“You’re wonderful with your daughter.”
Jared swung his attention to Kathleen. “What do you need to ask me?”
“I promised I would take Hannah shopping—for a bra.”
“Oh, I didn’t—I should have realized.”
“Most fathers don’t want even to acknowledge that their little girl is growing up. It doesn’t surprise me you didn’t think about it.”
He plowed his hand through his hair. “What else have I forgotten?”
“You’re doing fine. Being a single parent isn’t easy. I never realized how much I depended on John until he was gone.”
A frown descended on Jared’s face. He started for the stairs. “Do you want a glass of lemonade?”
The rigid set to his shoulders spoke more than words. There was a lot of pain bottled up in Jared. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of how much. Having gone through her own kind of pain, she wished she could wipe his away with the brush of her hand. Maybe being there as a friend would help not only Hannah but him, as well. She liked being needed as a woman to a man and missed that since John’s death.
“That sounds refreshing after our near jog here.”
“I’m sorry about that. I’ve always walked fast and with the problem concerning Hannah—” He shrugged, not finishing his sentence.
“I understand. I’m just glad I could help.”
“Make yourself comfortable on the porch. I’ll get the lemonades and bring them out.”
Kathleen made her way to the porch and sat in the wooden swing. She couldn’t forget the swift change in Jared’s demeanor. The dark shadows in his eyes revealed his struggle to maintain his composure, to push memories away. How much was he keeping inside? Men often didn’t talk about their emotions. They locked them away, denying they existed. Her yearning to feel needed, to help, grew.
The bang of the screen door alerted her to his approach. She glanced up and saw that he had himself under control, a neutral expression on his face. He handed her one glass and folded himself into a wicker chair opposite the swing. For just a second regret whipped through her—she told herself it was only because it was harder to carry on a conversation with him several yards away instead of next to her on the swing.
He took a sip of his drink. “Did Mark say anything more about why he smashed his guitar?”
She stiffened, reminded of her own set of problems. “No, he just insisted that he didn’t want to play it anymore.” Kathleen drank some of her lemonade to quench the ache in her throat.
“In my practice I’ve seen some teenagers have a rougher time growing up than others. Keep watching him closely. Be there for him when he needs you.”
“That’s just it. He doesn’t need me. He spends most of his time alone in his room when he’s at home.”
“Maybe he was more upset about the move than you thought.”
“When we got home last night, I talked to him again about it and he told me he didn’t care.” Guilt at the inability to help her son cloaked her in a heavy blanket, pressing her down.
“Did you believe him?”
“Yes. The last couple of months in Shreveport he wasn’t hanging around his friends like he used to. I tried talking to him about it but didn’t get anywhere. Do you think I was just hoping he didn’t care because I wanted to move?” She needed someone to tell her she had made the right decision in coming home.
Jared put his half-empty glass on the wicker table next to him. “Why did you want to move back to Crystal Springs?”
“I needed a change. My memories of Crystal Springs have always been fond ones.”
“But not Shreveport?”
She downed the rest of her lemonade as though she hadn’t drunk anything in days. “In Shreveport I found myself unable to move on in my life. I tried for a year and a half and finally acknowledged it wasn’t going to happen if I stayed.” Everywhere I turned I was reminded of how little control I have over my life, she silently added. I need control back.
“When you move, the memories go with you.”
“You can’t hide from yourself?”
“Exactly.” He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands, nothing casual about him. “Don’t give up on God. He hasn’t abandoned you.”
“I’ve lost my husband and now I feel like I’m losing my son.”
“If I can do anything about it, I won’t let you lose your son.”
The vehemence in his voice underscored his intentions, making Kathleen feel that she wasn’t alone. If she wasn’t careful, she could come to depend on Jared Matthews a great deal and she couldn’t let that happen. John’s death had rocked her world. She wouldn’t go through that kind of pain ever again.
Chapter Three
Returning to the church’s recreational hall Sunday evening, Kathleen cracked the door open and peered inside. Twenty teenagers sat listening to Jared describe their latest fundraiser. Mark had reluctantly agreed to coming this evening and was next to his cousin, Shane, his gaze on the floor. She wasn’t even sure if her son was hearing a word Jared was saying. Mark’s features were devoid of any expression. Seeing her son like that sent a chill down her spine.
Kathleen slipped inside the room while Jared wrapped up what everyone needed to do before the next week’s meeting. He caught her eye and smiled.
“Before we adjourn to the volleyball court, let’s pray,” Jared said, bowing his head. “Dear Heavenly Father, be with each and every one of these young people as they go through life. Help them to make the right choices and be there for them when they don’t. Amen.” Jared looked over the sea of teenagers. “The first game starts in ten minutes.”
The recreational hall emptied, all except for Mark, Kathleen and Jared. Mark slouched in his chair, continuing to stare at the tiled floor.
“Are you going to join us, Mark?” Jared asked, weaving his way through the rows of chairs toward Kathleen.
Mark shot Kathleen a look that spoke of boredom and disinterest. “Yeah, I guess.”
He pushed his lanky body, clad in black jeans and a black T-shirt, to his feet and trudged toward the door that led to outside.
When he disappeared from view, Kathleen released her pent-up breath in a rush. “I gather he wasn’t an involved member of the group.”
“No, but I did catch him listening a few times.”
“I hope he’ll get involved more. Otherwise this summer will be an extremely long one for him. I think all he’d do is sit in his room all day if I didn’t make him do chores around the house or help his grandparents some.”
“Besides listening to his music, what else does he do in his room?”
“He likes to draw. He’s been drawing a lot in a sketch book I got for him.”
“Have you looked at the sketches?”
“No, he won’t show them to me, and I haven’t wanted to invade his privacy.”
“Sometimes parents have to do things they don’t want to in order to protect their children.”
“You think I should check the drawings out without him knowing?”
“They may tell you what’s going on in his head. Try to get him to show you.” Jared swept his arm across his body. “Now, come on out and join the festivities.