And the Greatest of These Is Love: A Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (14 page)

“K. You take care of yourself.”

“I will. See ya.”

“See ya,” she said, half-heartedly, but he was already out the door and gone.

She sighed and looked around the now-empty room. The defeat and resignation of the situation around her finally took its toll. What good was this place anyway? What real difference did it make to kids like Irvin or any of them for that matter? Even after he’d worked his heart out in school, he still wouldn’t be able to afford college, and thus he was doomed to live out his life in a minimum wage job here in Collins or in some other place just like it — if he made it that long.

At the moment, closing the place would have been merciful. Hanging on, waiting for the end, saying good-bye over and over again was killing her. She wasn’t good at good-byes. She never had been. With that depressing thought, she looked around the room again and shook her head, got up and went over to her own desk where she sank down, curling one foot under her.

“Where’s Irvin?”

She looked up from her paperwork, startled at first, but when she saw Andrew leaning in her doorway, the desperation hit her hard, and she felt like her heart would stop for real. Swallowing, she ducked back to whatever it was she was supposed to be doing that she didn’t even remember anymore.

“He’s gone,” she said, trying to keep the desolation from her voice. It didn’t work.

He pulled up from the doorframe and closed the distance between them in five strides. “You okay?”

“No,” she said, honestly, shaking her head. Her heart had never felt like this before, like it was shattering in slow motion.

Slowly he came around the desk, knelt beside her, and put his hand on her back. His touch made her already tenuous hold on control falter.

“What can I do?” he asked, looking at her with concern.

“Nothing,” she said as a single tear slid down her cheek. She shrugged a helpless, pitiful shrug because she couldn’t even be strong enough not to cry. “There’s nothing anybody can do.”

He reached up and over, gently brushing the tears away with the warmth of his thumb. The touch of his hand on her cheek ignited something deep inside her, something she had long ago buried under a mountain of guilt, shame, and fear, and her mind tore loose from its moorings.

It startled her to the core, and in one breath, she knew she had to get away from him. Get some space, some distance between them before she totally lost herself. She stood up suddenly, almost without her body willing it to, thinking only that she had to get away from him and make him stay away from her.

Her mind wouldn’t focus. All it could do was tell her body to look busy. Going around the desk, around him, she grabbed up the eraser from the tray and began running it over the board without seeing anything in front of her. Fear, desire, and guilt were fighting a battle to the death in her very soul, and suddenly nothing was making any sense.

“Gabi?” He stood slowly and came over to her. Gently he put his hands on her arms to stop her frantic movements. “It’s all right.”

Somewhere deep down inside her a tiny crack broke through the dam she had painstakingly built around her heart over the course of the last ten years, and as the first tear slipped through it, the little control she had fought so hard to maintain slipped away, too.

“I can’t do it.” Letting her arms go limp, she leaned forward and rested her head on the chalkboard. Tears spilled over her lashes, and her breath stopped in her throat. “I can’t.”

Slowly, tenderly, Andrew turned her around and pulled her in to his chest. He held her there, rubbing her back, breathing because she couldn’t.

“Gabi, it’s okay,” he said softly. “I promise you, we’ll fix it — whatever it is.”

“No.” She shook her head and choked back the tears. “We can’t fix this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s all a lie, that’s why.”

“What’s a lie?”

She snorted a sarcastic, hard sound that sounded a lot like anger. “All of it. That everything’s fine. That if they work hard enough, these kids can get out. That if I love them enough, I can make a difference. It’s all a big, fat lie. Every last bit of it. Don’t you see? Nothing we do makes any difference.”

“Gabi, come on, that’s not true. Look at Irvin,” he said, trying to look at her and keep her next to him simultaneously, which wasn’t working all that great.

“Yeah.” She sniffed sarcastically into his sweatshirt. “Exactly. I’ve told him all these years if he worked hard enough, he could go to college, that he could make it. Who was I kidding?” she asked, pushing away from him so suddenly he didn’t think to be ready to catch her as she left him and went back over to her desk. “Irvin’s stuck, Andrew. They all are, and no amount of work is ever going to change that. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!”

She kicked her desk drawer, and it slammed closed with a bang, echoing through the room.

“He did his part, and I let him down,” she said, closing her eyes as pain slashed from her soul into his and echoed there. “We all did.”

“No, Gabi.” Andrew shook his head, following her to the desk where he stopped in front of it. “Don’t you see? You’re helping him overcome the obstacles to get him to his dream. You said so yourself last night.”

“Yeah? Well I lied,” she said as the anger took over for real then.

Panic gripped him. He had to get her to see what he did. “Gabi, you didn’t lie.”

“I did, too.” Her gaze came up to his, hot and filled with fury. “I told him I’d help him get into whatever school he wanted to go to, but you know what? I can’t do that.” She backed up, gnashing her teeth together. “I can’t. I can’t help him get in because I don’t have what this world runs on. I don’t have the money, and all the other help in the world is useless without that.”

In a cloud of tears, the fit began to pass and dejection took over.

“But there’s money out there,” he said, wondering why she had suddenly given up. He had seen the determination in this woman, and it was like tempered steel — hard and true. “We can help him find it.”

“We?” she asked shortly as her gaze sliced into him. “No, Andrew, when Monday comes, I’m going to be here to do this alone, and you’ll be back in your own world where you belong.”

The truth of that statement hit him like a ten-ton truck, and he struggled to catch his breath from the blow. Monday. Monday. When they walked out of here tonight, that would be it. End of research, end of story. He would go back to hassling DAs and judges far, far away from the center and Collins, and the kids, and...

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, resisting the temptation to give in to the desperation he suddenly felt. “Don’t give up on Irvin yet, okay? Please. He’s a good kid, and I can’t tell you how much he respects you. If you give up on him, that will be the nail in his coffin. Give it a week. One week, Gabi. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Gabi didn’t see what one week would help or hurt at this point, so it really didn’t matter if she accepted his proposal or not.

“Fine, one week,” she said, breathing a sigh of acquiescence which took the rest of her energy with it. “You know I’m really exhausted. I think I’m just going to go home and go to bed.”

Andrew looked like he’d just been shot. “You want to go out for coffee or something?”

However, she ducked her head and looked away. Her body and heart were screaming at her to accept his invitation, but her mind warned her to stay away. He was leaving. That was reality, and getting involved with him at this point would be a deadly mistake. It was time to let him go and just get on with what was left of her life.

“No, Andrew,” she said, slowly, and the tired sound in her voice was no act. “I really need to get some sleep. Somebody’s been keeping me up fixing windows and stuff this week, and I’m exhausted.”

“Oh,” he said, the disappointment echoing through the tiny syllable.

Then, in silence she gathered her things, turned off the light, and locked the door. He followed her down the hallway, wishing he could make the next few minutes last a lifetime.

It occurred to him as he stepped through the door to the outside that he wasn’t the same man who’d entered this building five days before. He’d grown in ways even he couldn’t explain, and most of it was because of this beautiful woman standing right next to him. Somehow he had to prolong this, to talk to her, to make her understand what she did to him.

She locked the door and turned for the parking lot without saying even a word.

“Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” he asked, the desperation sounding even in his own ears.

“No, Andrew. Thanks, but I really need to be getting home.” She smiled at him for a heartbeat, and then ducking her head, she made her way across the parking lot.

However, he just couldn’t let her go like this. Not like this. Not like for forever. Pushing his feet, he hurried after her, oblivious to the permeating chill in the air. “Can I call you sometime?”

She never even looked at him. “About the story?”

“Yeah,” he said, thinking that was as good as excuse as any.

“Yeah, I guess so.” What difference did it make what she said, Gabi reasoned. He wouldn’t call her anyway. They all said that — to make you feel better or something. But they didn’t call, and Andrew wouldn’t either.

He matched her step-for-step all the way to her car. “Are you coming here tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, sighing because she was so tired of fighting the losing battle. “I think I’ve had enough of this place for one week.”

“Oh,” he said slowly as if that truly mattered to him, which she knew it didn’t.

At her car, she summoned her courage and her dignity. “Well, Andrew,” she said, exhaling hard and extending her hand. “It’s been nice to know you.”

Andrew took her hand in his, but no words would form in his head as he looked at her.

“Take care of yourself.” She smiled up at him and nodded. “I’ll be looking forward to reading your stories this week.” Dropping her hand, she kept nodding. “Thanks for all your help, and I hope everything goes well for you.”

He should say something. Something brilliant, something witty, something to keep her from getting in that car and driving away, but his mind was so jumbled that no rational thought was getting through.

“Well, I guess, I’ll see you around.” And with that, she crawled into the car and waved to him.

In the next second, she slammed the door, and in a second more the motor roared to life, running over the trance he seemed to have fallen into.
Do something!
his heart yelled.
What?
his head yelled back even as nothing moved. One more small, sad smile and she drove away.

Her car was out of sight before he moved again.

“Idiot!” He pounded himself on the head. “What were you thinking? She’s gone! Gone! Are you happy now? What an idiot!”

As she drove, the streetlights blurred in front of Gabi, and the tears in her heart filled her chest to overflowing. He was gone now, but life would never, ever be normal again.

The pounding in her head woke Gabi just about the time the sun began peeking through her curtains. The events from the parking lot the night before replayed themselves in her head as they had nonstop since she had driven away from him.

How could she have been so stupid as to fall for him? How could she be so weak, so gullible? He was a jerk. She knew it from the start, and nothing had changed. Andrew Clark was a jerk, and she was better off without him, her head told her sensibly, but her heart wasn’t listening. It was making up little fantasies about seeing him again, about him calling, about him holding her again, about them dancing in the moonlight together.

She took two aspirins hoping that would make the whole thing go away and went to make breakfast.

Andrew considered going to the paper, but with four stories in the can, and the other two all but completed on his laptop, there really wasn’t a reason to. Besides, if he was honest about it, the newsroom was the last place he wanted to be right now.

He considered his options, thinking again how stupid he was for not at least getting her number. How dumb was that? “Can I call you sometime” should always be followed by, “and what’s your number?” Now even calling her was out. There was, however, one viable option left.

With that thought, he picked up the phone and dialed the number.

Gabi sat, mourning over her charcoal-colored eggs. All she could do was push them around her plate — around and around and around. She had to get out of here or she would simply go crazy. That’s all there was to it.

But where? her mind asked as if to ruin her escape plans.

“Anywhere, but here,” she finally said, grabbing up her sketchbook and pencils — the eggs forgotten.

“Uncle Drew!” Greg came running down the stairs.

“Hey, Greg.” Andrew gathered him into a bear hug, thrilled beyond words to be with him again. “How’s it going, Buddy?”

“Great! Mom says you’re taking me to soccer again,” Greg said, his excitement bubbling over as it so often did.

“That’s right,” Andrew said, and he did nothing to stop the smile. “I hope that’s all right.”

“All right? It’s stupendous!” Greg dashed out of the room calling, “I’ll get my stuff.”

“He’s a great kid.” Andrew stood and smiled at Pam who was standing there watching them.

“Yeah,” she said, not really sounding like she cared much one way or the other. “Are you sure you want to do this, Andrew?”

“Of course, I love spending time with Greg.” He ducked then, just a touch. “By the way, where’s Bryan?”

She sighed. “Another case. If you ask me, he’d rather be at the office than here.” With that, she plopped down on the overstuffed couch and thumbed through a magazine.

Andrew contemplated asking what her plans for the day were and then decided not to. “Oh, well, I was just wanting to ask his advice on something.”

Disinterested would have been a step up. “He’s supposed to be here later, maybe you can ask him then.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Oh, no.” Pam sat straight up. “What’s today?”

“Saturday?” Andrew’s eyebrows went up at her sudden panic. “The 25
th?
”

“The 25
th
? Where is my head? Greg has an eye appointment this afternoon,” she said, suddenly extremely flustered. “He can’t go to soccer unless I go with him.” Then she shrugged. “Well, I guess he’ll just have to skip soccer this week.”

Knowing how that would crush his nephew, Andrew thought fast. “Oh, Pam, come on. What time’s the eye appointment?”

“2:30.”

“Tell you what I’ll take him to soccer, and we’ll meet you at the Icicle afterward. That way you don’t have to drive all the way over to the park to get him,” Andrew said, hoping she would agree to the plan.

“Oh, that’s too much trouble. Greg doesn’t have to go today.” It was like she had no idea how much Greg loved playing soccer.

“It’s really no trouble,” Andrew said, just as Greg came back in with his backpack.

“I’m ready!”

“What do you say, Pam?” he asked, sliding his fingers into and over Greg’s head, willing her to say yes. The last thing he could take was seeing another child be crushed under agendas and plans they had no control over.

“Well, okay, but I’ll be there at two. Don’t be late,” she finally said, irritated, but obviously relieved to have the morning to herself.

“We won’t be late,” Andrew promised, happy to have averted shattering Greg’s heart over a crummy eye appointment.

Greg went over and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Bye, Mom.”

“Bye,” she said, accepting the kiss without so much as noticing he was standing there.

Andrew looked at Greg and raised his eyebrows as if they were about to make a daring escape. “Let’s bolt.”

It was still early when Gabi pulled up to the curb of the park. The chill in the air was getting colder. Not many people would be here today, but that was all right with her. She wasn’t up for conversation or crowds anyway. With her sketchbook and pencils, she walked slowly across the grass. Soon even this escape would be covered with snow, and therefore inaccessible. Winter. The dreaded season was upon them.

She curled herself onto the bench and laid her sketchbook in her lap. The trees surrounding the little clearing stood out in stark contrast to the gloomy, gray sky as she began sketching the scene before her.

“And we wrote Halloween stories, and Miss Liemer’s going to hang them out for the carnival.” Greg chattered away as the little red sports car made a left and crossed the bridge. “I’m going to be a dragon for Halloween, you know? I’ve got the whole suit and everything. Mrs. Sanders didn’t want me to, but Dad said I could.”

Andrew was glad he didn’t have to carry much of the conversation because his mind was not in the car. It had drifted somewhere else while they were writing their Halloween stories. He wondered what she was doing. Saturday, and she could be anywhere. He didn’t even know where she lived, and he berated himself for that again.

“So, what do you think?” Greg asked, and there was a long silent pause. “Uncle Drew?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, Greg, what did you say?” Andrew asked, embarrassed for zoning out in the middle of the story.

“What do you think about the Raiders?”

“The Raiders?”

“Yeah, the team we’re playing today,” Greg said, his excitement losing steam.

Andrew glanced over at him and smiled. “Well, I think if you play like you did last week, they won’t have a chance.” He pulled the car to the curb and stopped there.

“You really think I play good?” Greg asked, searching for encouragement as he wound over himself.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve never seen anybody play as good as you.” Considering how little soccer he’d ever witnessed, the comment wasn’t even a lie. “You got your stuff?”

“Of course.” Greg got out and came around to Andrew’s door. “Come on. I don’t want to be late.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” He did a final check of the car, got out, and hit the lock button. He looked more appropriate this week, he thought as he crossed the grass. No three piece suit for him today, and if it was up to him, there would be far fewer of them in the future, too. Nope. Stonewashed jeans and a celery green button down. Casual and perfect for this kind of outing. He was proud of himself for that. Maybe he was learning after all.

Greg ran on ahead of him and was already on the field warming up when Andrew entered the clearing and with one glance saw her — sitting on the bench. His heart jolted as if struck by lightning. The butterfly was back.

Gabi smiled when she saw her favorite subject suddenly appear on the field. The brown hair, the square jaw, the eyes. It was strange, she thought, as she looked at him, he reminded her of someone.

“Hi there.” At that moment Andrew leaned over the back of the bench, and her pencils scattered from her hand.

Jumping, she spun around in the same motion. “Andrew? What in the world are you doing here?” She couldn’t believe her eyes as he grinned at her, stood and came around the bench where he quickly collected the pencils on the grass. Suddenly closing her eyes ever again sounded like giving him an invitation to disappear, and she was afraid to close them for fear he’d be gone again. Those eyes. Green eyes. Dancing and smiling at her. They looked just like...

The puzzled look that crossed her face stopped him from making the comment on his lips.

“What?” he asked, holding the pencils and surveying the face he had grown to love. He handed them to her though she looked like she never so much as saw them before he sat down and put his arm across the back of the bench. He laughed and looked down at himself. “What? Do I have something on me?” He rubbed his chin embarrassed, but still she just stared at him.

Then, slowly Gabi looked from him out to the field, and suddenly the pieces fell into place and exploded at the same time. This is where she had seen him. At the park, last week, with his son. Andrew had a son? Her mind pushed that back and forth. How could that be? He had a
son
?

“Oh. Wow, can I see?” he asked, noticing the sketchbook still lying on her lap. He took it from her before she could think to protest. “Wow. This is great! It’s Greg. Right? Man, I never knew you were this good. This is amazing.”

One-by-one he flipped slowly through the pages as she sat in horror and confusion.

“Wow, Gabi, these are really good. I bet Greg would love to have this one.” He held one drawing up so she could see it, but at the moment nothing was registering through the haze of questions attacking her brain. “Where did you learn to draw like this? It’s amazing.”

Only now did she remember. The three piece suit, him bending to congratulate his son — Greg. Greg was his son. Andrew had a son. The phrases raced around in her head like frightened pigeons, but she couldn’t make any sense of them. He’d never mentioned a son. It seemed that at some point he would’ve mentioned a son, but then again, he was a natural with the kids at the center. Obviously he’d had more practice than she knew.

“Greg is really good,” she said, slowly, nodding toward the field as her heart shredded.

“Yeah.” With a proud smiled Andrew nodded. “He reminds me of me when I was his age.” He wrinkled his face and laughed. “Except I don’t remember having that much energy.”

“He’s a cute kid,” she said, fighting not to let him hear what she was feeling.

“Takes after his father,” Andrew said, and her heart sank. And they were back to how terrific Andrew Clark was and how deplorable everyone else was in comparison. Full circle had never ached like this. “He’s got Bryan’s eyes.”

“Bryan?” Gabi asked in confusion. “Who’s Bryan?”

“Bryan, my brother — Greg’s father,” Andrew said, looking from the sketches and over to her oddly.

Her eyes widened. “Greg’s…? But I thought...?”

The end of the sentence hung between them for an awkward moment as Andrew looked at her, confusion tracing across his serious face.

“You thought — what?” he asked, and then it hit him. His eyes widened as well. “You thought Greg was my son?”

She shrank over her shoulders. “Well, you do look an awful lot alike.”

“Well, I’m flattered — I think.” Looking down at the sketches, he lifted the book. “Have you ever thought about doing something professional with these?”

That struck her as just this side of ridiculous. “The sketches?”

“Yeah. They’re really good. I mean they’re really, really good.”

“There’s not much money in art,” she said, embarrassed, wishing she could make the sketches disappear. “Besides I wouldn’t want to take time away from the center. You know. Not now anyway.”

Not now. Next week she would have to, but not right now. It went unspoken, but the thought ran through both minds simultaneously just the same.

“So, I bet you’re excited about going back to the newsroom,” she said, trying to make conversation even though she hated it.

“I guess,” he said with no excitement whatsoever.

It was work to not sound heartbroken. “So, what kind of story are you doing next? Save the whales?”

“No.” He laughed. “I’m more of a hard news kind of guy.”

“Oh, like the DA that just got busted?” she asked, totally oblivious to the storm going on in his world. She’d heard about the scandal on the alarm radio every morning this week. It was apparently a big deal.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said, half-heartedly.

“Story of the year and you’re stuck out in Collins at the youth center,” she said, shaking her head. “Ouch. I bet you were thrilled.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t so bad.” With half a smile, he put his arm across the back of the bench once again as he crossed an ankle over his knee. “I got to wash a few windows, read a few stories, hang around with you.” His eyes said things Gabi knew she would be in trouble to believe. “It wasn’t so bad.”