He carried the game box to Chelsea’s room and knocked.
“Go away.”
“Come on, Chels. Open up for a sec.”
She unlocked the door but didn’t open it.
He went inside and found her sprawled sideways, face down, on the pink-draped canopy bed—her little-girl bed. The covers were all bunched up near her head as if she’d dived across the surface, scrunching them up as she slid.
He would not apologize for protecting her. She might not understand now, but she would someday when she had kids of her own. “Come on. Let’s play a round of Monopoly.”
“No.”
“I promise not to win.”
She sniffed. “You can’t promise that.”
“I promise not to put houses on my property.” She paused and he thought he had her.
“No, I need to work on my summer reading project.”
The paper she’d written two weeks earlier? “I thought you finished it.”
“I’ll check it over again.”
She wanted to check over a project that wasn’t due for three more weeks? Boy, he’d sure moved down on her list of fun people. “Okay. I’ll let you study.”
“You’ve got to work anyway.”
Why did she always say that as if he were committing a crime by holding down a job that provided for her? “I do have a split shift today. Gotta go back from seven to ten. But I can get Fred to cover for a little while.”
“So I’ve got Kristy coming over to stay with me?” Her sneer was no reflection on the babysitter.
“I know you want to stay alone. But not at night. Not yet.”
She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, then sat up. “Well, if you won’t let me do that yet, the least you can do is let me go back to the café.”
More than anything, he wanted to be a good dad. To keep her safe—physically and emotionally. Maybe this was one little thing he could bend on, though. “Can you promise me no boys?”
“I didn’t invite him today.” Her gaze darted away. “Well, not directly.”
“Is Parker your boyfriend?” He waited for her answer, holding his breath, wishing this day hadn’t come.
She shrugged. “No. We’re just talking.”
This boy-girl stuff was something Tina would have handled so much better. He sat down beside Chelsea on the bed and rubbed her back. “When a boy has his arm around you like that, then it looks like he considers you his girlfriend. Do you want to be his girlfriend?”
“Sort of. Maybe.” The sparkle in her eye, though, told him it was a definite yes.
“You need to make up your own mind and not be pushed into anything. Boys, well, they…sometimes they’re…pushy.” His face must’ve been as red as hers. He knew they needed a birds-and-bees talk at some point, but—
“I’ve had health class, Dad, if that’s what you’re trying to get around to.”
He vaguely remembered signing a permission form. “Okay. Good.” But he still might need Faith to talk to her.
“Everything is fine with Parker. I like him.”
Tina had always prayed for Chelsea. That God would be working in the life of the man she would marry someday. That God would protect Chelsea and prepare her to meet her future husband. But Gabe had failed to take over the duty, and now something—guilt—nudged him to at least consider praying for his child. But would God even listen to him anymore? It had been so long…” Chels, I don’t like this boyfriend-girlfriend stuff at your age. I want you to wait until you’re older.”
“How old?” Fire lit in her eyes as she challenged him.
Twenty-five? “We’ll figure it out later.”
He’d been spoiled. He realized that now. He had been Chelsea’s whole world the last few years. But now she wanted to broaden her horizons, to include others.
He wasn’t ready yet to let her grow up. And though he couldn’t stop her, he was determined not to let her rush it.
That evening, when they had a rare moment without a customer at the cafe, Faith sat at a table with Natalie—hard-working, honest, dependable and fun. The best employee she’d ever hired. She thanked God for her every day.
“Since I’ll be on vacation for two weeks, you’ll need to order supplies.” Faith handed Natalie a file folder. “Here’s the checklist I use. On Sunday evening after you close, you’ll need to do inventory. Then Monday morning, place the orders.”
Once they looked over the list together, Natalie seemed confident. “I’ve got it. No problem.” She closed the folder, handed it back to Faith, then slapped her hand flat on the table.
She was acting so strangely. “What—” Faith caught a glimpse of…a ring? Natalie had a sparkling diamond ring on her left ring finger. “What on earth?”
The young woman’s grin widened. Her eyes radiated joy as she trilled out a happy laugh. “I didn’t think you’d ever notice!”
“You and Vince got engaged?”
“Yep. Last night.” She wiggled her fingers out in front of her, the diamond flashing in the light.
Faith examined the ring closely. “It’s beautiful. Have you set a date?”
“Not yet. Now, back to earth. I’ve gotta go make the last batch of cookie dough.”
Faith resisted the twinge of envy. She’d never experienced the thrill of an engagement or a traditional wedding. Her marriage to Walt had been a quick, hushed trip to the courthouse accompanied by grim-faced parents. And she’d long ago given up on ever finding Mr. Right. Besides, Natalie had snatched up the best man around, even if he was ten years too young for Faith.
There’s also Gabe. The thought popped into Faith’s mind as she headed to her office to catch up on some paperwork. Yeah, he was a good man, too.
But everyone knew he would never be able to care for another woman like he had Tina. Though Faith had never met Gabe’s deceased wife, she’d heard over and over from friends at church what a paragon of womanhood she’d been. The perfect wife, perfect mother.
And perfect was not something Faith could ever do.
As she plunked into her chair, the phone rang. Gabe.
“I feel like I’m imposing on our friendship,” he said, “but I’m in a jam. Babysitter canceled last minute and Chelsea suggested I call you.”
She closed her eyes. She’d done her neighborly duty—had kept her promise to Chelsea. Had even agreed to help Gabe by having Chelsea come to the cafe that day. But babysit? “I’m here until closing tonight, Gabe. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’ll keep trying to find someone. Thanks, Faith.” He hung up.
She tried not to fret about letting him down, but she did feel a pinch of guilt. Monday nights weren’t very busy. And Natalie could probably handle it by herself. Faith could even come back after watching Chelsea and close up.
She smoothed her fingers over the desktop. Everything was in its place—as usual. But she straightened the pencils in the pencil holder anyway, trying to force them to stay evenly spaced around the container.
No. She would not get involved. Gabe could find someone trustworthy to take care of his child. Scads of women from church would love to watch Chelsea.
Gabe fought