Scott bristled. “I don’t think serving the Lord is a waste of my time.”
She gave him an indulgent look. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Serving the Lord is wonderful, but a man of God like you needs a helpmate in life. God doesn’t want all of us to be alone.”
Uh-oh. Scott blinked. He knew the youth of the church had played matchmaker with the Youth Minister, Caleb, and Anne, the former church secretary, now Caleb’s wife. It sounded as if Naomi wanted to pick up where they’d left off. Better put a stop to this pronto. He held up a hand. “I’m content with my life. Besides, I have so much on my plate with Caleb on vacation I think I should wait until the time is right.”
“That excuse will only last so long you know,” she commented with a gleam in her eyes.
Scott stood and backed away as if putting space between them might stop Naomi from whatever was going on in that head of hers. “I better get back to the kids.”
He didn’t want to give Naomi any chance to try to fix him up with someone in the congregation. That could jeopardize the acceptance he enjoyed in Chestnut Grove. Besides, he hadn’t lied when he’d said he had too much on his plate right now. But he also hadn’t wanted to admit he didn’t know if the time to find a wife would ever be right. He would hate to disappoint another person that he loved.
Naomi watched Scott shoot out of the cafeteria as though the Hound of the Baskervilles was on his heels. The man certainly was gun-shy of relationships.
As far as she’d seen, Scott kept everyone at an emotional arm’s length, even while he’d bend over backward to be of help. She understood how hard his decision to follow God’s call into ministry was on his relationship with his family and knew there was a rift or something that needed healing. But she sensed loneliness and a deep hurt in Scott, as well.
“Lord, how would You have me help this young man?”
Naomi waited a beat. An idea formed in her mind. “Ah, yes. Thank You, Lord.”
She knew what to do.
After washing her cup out and putting it on the drain pad, she went to her office where she fired up her computer. With a few clicks and some creative thinking, she added Scott anonymously to the growing number of members in The Kingdom Room.
“Sometimes people need a little help recognizing that the right time is right now,” she stated aloud and sat back. Now all she had to do was wait and watch the fun happen.
“Go to sleep and good night, my sweet prince,” Trista cooed softly to Aidan as she gently laid him in his crib. The teddy bear motif on the bumpers and mobile included little cubs frolicking in the grass and always made her smile. She’d found the crib and bedding at a secondhand store in Richmond. They were perfect for her little boy.
She tucked the blanket more securely around Aidan. Heartbreaking joy squeezed her chest, bringing tears to her eyes. She touched the downy softness of his dark hair. If anything were ever to happen to him, she didn’t think she could take it.
“Oh, God, if You’re real, please watch over this little life,” she whispered with a small hiccuping sob.
Aidan stirred. She quickly backed away to keep from disturbing him further. He needed his sleep. She did, too, but sleep had become hard to find ever since Aidan’s birth. She was terrified he’d need her in the middle of the night. She’d read all the baby books she could find and still feared that something bad would happen.
Being a parent was the most nerve-racking thing she’d ever experienced and she could only imagine that her anxiety would grow along with Aidan.
The sound of the phone ringing in the living room made her wince. Quickly, she left Aidan’s room, keeping the door cracked open, and rushed to answer the phone.
“Hello?”
Silence greeted her.
Trista frowned. “Hello? Is someone there?”
Straining to listen, she swore she heard the sound of muffled sobs as if the person on the other end of the line were trying to keep their tears quiet. Then the line went dead.
An eerie chill crept up Trista’s spine as she replaced the receiver. She didn’t know who had her number other than Kelly, Ross and her office. Fearing something had happened to her brother or his wife, she quickly snatched up the receiver and dialed their home number.
“Hi,” her brother’s booming voice intoned.
“Is everything okay?” Trista asked, skipping the pleasantries of greeting. She noted the blinking light of the answering machine. She’d forgotten to check it again when she’d come home from work.
“Yes. Why?”
She could hear the wariness in his voice. She couldn’t blame him with all the problems that had plagued the adoption agency of late. First the discovery of so many adoption records having been falsified over the years. Then Kelly received that threatening note at the Fourth of July celebration, and less than three weeks later the offices had been broken into and set on fire.
And just last month, Ross’s SUV’s front windshield had been shattered and another note left behind, demanding they stop investigating the phony records. “Is Kelly there? Is she okay?”
“She is. Trista, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She rolled her tense shoulders and shifted the receiver to the other side of her head. Her sweatshirt bunched up as she moved. She tugged at it. “I just received the strangest call. When I answered, there was no response, but I’m sure I heard crying.”
“Hmm. Do you think Mom could have called you?”
Trista scoffed. “No. She can’t even remember my name. How would she know where to call me?”
“I have no idea. But Alzheimer’s is a strange disease.”
A disease that was hereditary. A knot formed in her stomach. “Yes, well…be that as it may, I don’t think it was Mom.”
“It was probably a wrong number. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Whoever it was will call back if it was important,” Ross commented. “Kelly says you’re coming over Saturday to cook dinner.”
“Yep. Kelly requested lasagna. Will you make one of your killer salads?”
“Of course. Hey, I was thinking of driving out to visit Mom on Sunday after church. Will you come?”
Trista closed her eyes as guilt and resentment warred in her heart. Ross was so good at visiting their mother in the nursing home outside of Richmond. For Trista, the visits were torture. Michelle Van Zandt barely recognized her only daughter.
The last time Trista had gone to the home, Michelle had become so upset because she’d thought Trista was there to steal her husband away.
Henry Van Zandt had died from liver failure years ago. That their mother still worried her husband was cheating on her only served to instill in Trista a loathing to ever go down the matrimonial road again.
After her disaster of a marriage to Kevin and watching her mother’s decline, Trista vowed to concentrate on her son to make sure he didn’t grow up making the same mistakes his family made. She’d even bought a book on how to prevent Alzheimer’s, for herself and Aidan.
“Trista?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We’ll see.” That was as much commitment as she could give at the moment.
Ross sighed. “We can talk about it more on Saturday.”
Perfect. Now she was going to have to endure his lecture on how she should forgive their parents for the past and how their mother needed them now. She was well practiced in tuning