Not that he minded pinch hitting for the Youth Minister, Caleb Williams. After all, serving the Lord was Scott’s priority in life. And Scott didn’t begrudge Caleb taking his family on vacation until after Thanksgiving.
The Youth Center buzzed with activity. Normally, the center resembled the inside of a YMCA, complete with an exercise room, a television room sporting comfy secondhand couches and beanbag chairs, an arts-and-crafts room with tons of supplies for the many art projects offered and a small cafeteria.
Today, however, the center looked more like Santa’s workshop. The place was bursting with toys, wrapping paper, kids and…what was Naomi’s little dog doing?
Scott made a grab for the long-bodied, short-legged animal as it ran past him with a curly-haired doll hanging from its jaws. “Whoa, Buddy.” He scooped up the dachshund. “That’s not for you.”
Fourteen-year-old Tiffany skidded to a halt beside him. Her freckled nose wrinkled up in exasperation. “He’s such a rascal,” she exclaimed and took the squirming dog from Scott.
As she held the animal in her plump arms, Scott pried the doll out of Buddy’s mouth. Inspecting the doll, he shrugged. “Doesn’t look too bad. His teeth didn’t puncture the plastic.”
“Hey, Pastor Scott, should we put together the tricycle?” Jeremy, the star athlete of the local high school, called from across the room.
Leaving Buddy to Tiffany’s care, Scott waded through the mounds of toys and kids to where Jeremy and Billy stood beside an unopened box with the picture of a child’s red trike on the front. Both boys wore what seemed to be the fad of the day, long basketball shorts and hooded sweatshirts.
“Hmm. Good question. Let me ask Naomi if she has a specific child in mind for this and get back to you. In the meantime, I think the tire store downtown still has a box for us to pick up. Take some bags with you so you can leave the box there. That way people can continue to donate.”
Jeremy nodded and nudged Billy. “We’ll take my truck.”
Scott watched the boys leave. Pride filled his chest for the way the senior boy, Jeremy, was providing such a good role model for the younger, troubled Billy.
He glanced around and spotted the Reverend’s wife. Skirting the mayhem in the middle of the TV room, Scott headed toward where she sat on the floor putting the finishing touches on a wrapped gift. Naomi’s short-cropped red hair sported a paisley bandana that tied at the top, the ends of which poked straight up like dog ears. A few gray strands of hair reflected the overhead light.
Scott smiled with affection at the woman he considered to be a second mother rather than his superior’s wife. “How are we doing over here?”
His gaze took in the stacks of pretty wrapped gifts surrounding Naomi and the two young girls sitting in a semicircle on the floor.
Naomi looked up, her vivid blue eyes twinkling. “Did you ever imagine we’d have this many gifts after only three days?”
Scott chuckled. “No. The generosity of this town is a blessing.”
They’d only distributed the donation boxes to the many willing businesses around the community of Chestnut Grove the previous Friday night. Now on Monday afternoon, the outpouring of donations surprised them all.
This was a community of friends and family who pulled together to take care of each other. Scott felt blessed to be serving the Lord in Chestnut Grove. Here, at least, he was accepted, flaws and all.
“At this rate we’ll be able to put a toy in every underprivileged child’s hand at Christmas for miles around,” Naomi stated and held out her hand to Scott.
He helped her to her feet. She shook out her legs. “Whew, sitting on the floor at my age isn’t a good idea.”
One of the teenage girls giggled.
“You’re not old,” another girl, Nikki, commented. “At least you don’t act old. Not the way my parents do.”
The compliment was as close as the girl had come to saying she cared. Scott knew Naomi had been doing her level best to break through the teen’s protective barriers. Nikki liked to dress in all black and considered herself an Emo. When Scott was younger the term had been Goth. But whatever the phrase of the day it still conveyed the emotional chaos and confusion he remembered.
Naomi touched Nikki’s blond head in affection. “You girls carry on while Scott and I have a chat.”
She led Scott to the vacant cafeteria where she poured herself a cup of coffee. Scott declined her offer and took a seat at the round eating table. “The kids were wondering what to do with the boxed tricycle.”
Naomi sipped her coffee. “Leave it for now.”
“Okay.” He trusted Naomi’s judgment. Reverend Fraser was blessed to have such a good wife. Scott hoped one day he’d find a soul mate, someone willing to serve the Lord along side of him. Someone who’d accept him as he was, without trying to change him the way Sylvia had. She’d been his one serious girlfriend from high school through college until he’d decided to go into the ministry.
She’d dumped him then, saying she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. But Scott knew the truth. Sylvia hadn’t wanted to be a pastor’s wife.
Scott leaned forward to place his elbows on the table and press his palms together. “I just sent Jeremy and Billy to collect the toys from Paul’s Tire Emporium. I figure next Saturday should be soon enough to have the kids out collecting from the bins around town again. I can’t imagine we’ll get much more than we already have.”
Naomi gestured to him with her cup. “It was a brilliant idea on your part to start the drive early this year. We can get this done and out of the way so we can all enjoy the upcoming holidays ourselves.”
Sometimes his impatience paid off. “I’m firming up plans with the food bank for the Thanksgiving dinner the church will be hosting. We need more volunteers, so if you could get the word out that would be great.”
“I certainly will.” She set her cup down and leaned forward. “How’s your family?”
“Good. I talked to Mom yesterday. She made a point of telling me she expected me at the dinner table on Thanksgiving.”
Scott would rather spend the majority of Thanksgiving Day helping feed those less fortunate than himself. At least that was the best explanation he could give his family. But the main reason he had declined to spend dawn till dusk at his parents’ house was the constant teasing he took from his siblings.
Sometimes he could escape to the game room in the basement with all of his nieces and nephews, but even there he wasn’t safe. His sibs would hunt him down.
Growing up the youngest of four, he’d always borne the brunt of the jokes and pranks. He didn’t understand or appreciate the rough ribbing. He sometimes wondered if the taunting hid the fact that his brothers and sister hadn’t wanted another sibling. He’d been a surprise for his parents, a fact his siblings loved to remind him.
It didn’t help the family dynamics any that Scott wasn’t cut from the same cloth as the rest of the high-achieving Crosbys. His father had been disappointed that Scott hadn’t followed his siblings into a professional career. His mother clucked over him as if he was still in kindergarten.
All in all, spending time with his family was stressful for him.
Naomi’s gaze turned speculative. “Scott, when are you going to find a nice girl and settle down?”
Scott coughed at the unexpected question. “I beg your pardon?”
“I worry that you work too hard. A young man should have some fun in his life. And you won’t be young forever.”
He didn’t need the reminder, but hearing