Right Where I Belong (6 page)

Shaking her head, Maureen laughed softly. “I’m glad you didn’t lose any of that humility I so admired, Brian.”

“Enough chitchat.” Jack rubbed his hands together. “I brought these men along to work. Pastor Brian only works one day a week, you know, so I figured he was overdue.”

Apparently sarcasm is a national pastime. I think I’ll make it here just fine.

Chapter 9

O
ver a decade working in upper-level management in international corporations, and I can’t even get an interview with a small firm here!” Maureen slammed her laptop shut and stood from the table, her chair scraping loudly against the tile floor. “Divorced, unemployed, unattractive—”

“Maureen, you are beautiful and intelligent.”

“And unemployed.”

“Because of the recession. You know that. But something will work out. God has the perfect job out there for you. You just haven’t found it yet.”

“Just like God had the perfect marriage for me?” Maureen spat. “I’m sorry, Natalia. But God and I aren’t on very good terms right now.”

Natalia walked over to Maureen and took her hand. “Someone very wise once told me that the trials we face in our lives help shape us into the person Christ wants us to be.”

Maureen shook her hand from Natalia’s, walked into the living room, and fell into an overstuffed chair. “Oh, Natalia. It’s easy to say that to someone else. It’s much harder to believe it when it’s happening to you.”

“So you don’t believe anymore?” That couldn’t be true. Not after all the conversations she and Maureen had had, all the times Maureen had shown her verses that spoke to both their hearts. Maureen wouldn’t forsake the God she loved.

“No, it’s not that.” Maureen sighed, raking her hand through her short, blond hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I wake up every morning thinking today is going to be different, but it never is. Every night I go to bed angry, hurt. Alone. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone,” Natalia suggested. Not for the first time.

“No,” Maureen shouted, crossing her arms and closing her eyes. “This is humiliating enough without crying to Pastor Brian or Carol about my problems.”

“If your arm was broken, would you feel the same way?”

“What?”

“If you fell from the stairs and broke your arm”—Natalia sat on the couch across from Maureen—“would you go to the doctor and get it taken care of? Or would you sit at home and try to fix it yourself?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Maureen, your heart is broken. Your spirit is broken. There’s no shame in getting help so you can heal. That’s what the body of Christ is for, right? Pastor Eduardo back
home always said that. We help each other—mourn with those who mourn and weep with those who weep.”

“I don’t know. Right now, I just want a job. I need a job. Once I have that then maybe I can think about seeing a counselor. Maybe.” Maureen stood and walked back to the table, then opened her laptop.

The conversation was over. For now, anyway.
All I can do is pray for her. God, help her. Make her see how much she needs you right now. Help her to forgive Papa and to forgive herself so she can move on.

Natalia walked up the stairs and smiled when she entered her room. The Youngers and Jack had put everything together. No boxes in sight. Her dresser—tall, light-colored with six drawers—stood to her left, the bed sat under the window, the red curtains functioning as a backdrop to her headboard. On the right, she had a small desk with a rolling chair.

Pulling the chair out, Natalia turned on her laptop. As she waited, Natalia looked at the picture on her desk—her last day of school. All her friends were smiling, Natalia in the center. They had thrown her a huge party. She laughed when they brought out hot dogs, fries, and apple pies.

“We want to get a taste of what you’ll be eating from now on,” Carmen had joked.

Natalia clicked on to the Internet and pulled up her e-mail. A note from Carmen, the title
Please Come Back!
screaming at her.

Natalia read the message and laughed, amazed that Carmen could sound just as dramatic in an e-mail as she could in person.

After the morning she had, Natalia debated whether or not to consent to Carmen’s plea. Going back home was so tempting. Maureen was falling apart, and Natalia didn’t seem to be helping. At all.

Natalia’s eyes drifted to her Bible. She opened the front cover and saw the verse Pastor Eduardo had written on the first page the day he baptized her. “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the L
ORD
, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ Jer. 29:11”

He had handed her the Bible and shown her that verse. “Remember this, Natalia. There will be times when your faith is shaken, when you don’t understand what is happening. Remember that God has plans for you. And those plans are good. Trust him. He will never, ever let you down. He will never leave you.”

Okay, God. You have me here. There is a plan. A good plan. I will trust you.

Natalia thought back to Carmen’s e-mail, then jumped up. “School!”

After running down the stairs, Natalia almost ran into the back of Maureen’s chair. “I have to register for school! You said it starts at the end of August. That is just two weeks away! I need to get the book list and buy uniforms and—”

“Calm down, Natalia.” Maureen looked up and sighed. “There’s a Christian school right at the church. I called the principal while we were still in Spain. Your father has paid your tuition already. We do need to get you registered, but it’s not a big deal. The school is much smaller than your school in Madrid—just a few hundred students . . .”
Maureen stopped speaking when she realized Natalia had stopped listening.

“You mean everyone there is a Christian?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. But the teachers are all Christians, and Bible is one of the subjects taught.”

“Someone is going to teach me Bible every day?” Natalia was so excited she could barely contain herself. “I have so many questions. I was just praying the other day that God would help me understand what I am reading. And look at the answer. A Christian school!” Natalia hugged Maureen. “Can we go now? I want to see it. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this. That is the best news I’ve heard since we came here.”

Maureen shook her head and mumbled something about hoping Natalia wouldn’t be disappointed, but she was barely listening. Natalia grabbed her bag and threw on shoes, then was up the stairs and back down in less than thirty seconds.

Maureen wasn’t quite so fast. Natalia waited impatiently, imagining what the school would look like and what it would be like to have teachers who were Christians and classmates who shared her faith instead of ridiculing her for it.

Ten minutes later the pair pulled up to the church.

“I know you said the school was associated with the church, but I didn’t realize it was part of it.” Natalia tried to imagine where the classes were held.

“Yes, my Sunday school class was in the high school building. That building over there”—Maureen pointed to her right—“is the elementary building. The portables behind that are where the middle school classes and art classes meet. The choir and band rooms are in the same
building as the sanctuary. The school offices are here, right next to the high school building.” Maureen pointed straight ahead, toward what looked like a house. “This used to be the church’s parsonage.”

“The what?”

“The house where the pastor and his family lived,” Maureen said. “Years ago, many churches provided housing for pastors. When the school started twenty years ago, the parsonage was turned into the administration building.”

“But where do the Youngers live?”

“They own a house about ten minutes from here, right on a lake. It’s beautiful.”

“But I thought he worked here full time?” Natalia asked.

“He does.” Maureen shrugged. “The church pays him well. He’s not wealthy, but he makes enough so he can provide for his family.”

Natalia was shocked. At her small church in Spain, the pastor had to work another job because the church could barely afford to pay for its building. She couldn’t imagine a church having enough money to pay a pastor to live on.

“The pastors’ offices are over there, in the same building as the sanctuary.”

“Pastors? There is more than one?”

“Sure. Pastor Brian is the senior pastor, then there’s Pastor Mike, the associate pastor. And, there’s the youth pastor and the music minister.”

“And the church pays them all?” Natalia asked, bewildered.

“Of course.” Maureen opened the door to the administration building.

Natalia had more questions, but she’d have to wait until
later. The secretary, a kind-looking woman in her fifties, stood behind a tall counter filled with brochures, letters, and assorted potted plants.

“Good morning. Welcome to Tampa Christian School! How can I help you?”

“My name is Maureen Lopez.” She winced at the last name. “I don’t have an appointment, but I was wondering if we could see Mr. Lawrence. My stepdaughter will be going to school here this year, and we wanted to plan her schedule and maybe get a tour of the school grounds.”

“Of course! But the guidance counselor, Mrs. Williams, will need to help you with the schedule. She’s out of town this week—gone to camp with the little ones.”

“Oh.” Maureen sighed, giving Natalia an “I’m sorry, maybe later” look.

“But,” the secretary continued, “Mr. Lawrence is in. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk with you and show you around.”

Before Maureen could respond, the secretary picked up her phone and pressed three buttons. In less than a minute, the door behind Natalia opened.

“Maureen!” boomed the principal—a tall, wiry man who looked to be about the same age as Natalia’s father. He hugged Maureen, then moved to hug Natalia. Unsure of what to make of this man, Natalia hugged him back, tentatively, then stepped away.

“Come in, come in!” he said, walking toward his office. He suddenly turned. Natalia almost ran into him, so abrupt was his movement. “Oh! I’m sorry, Natalia. I already feel like I know you, so I didn’t even think to introduce myself.
I’m Mr. Lawrence, principal here at TCS.” He stuck his hand out and Natalia shook it, smiling. This was one of the most energetic men she’d ever met.

“Pastor Brian was over here just this morning, bragging on you and saying what a help you’ve been to Maureen. Little Brian was pretty impressed too.” Mr. Lawrence winked.

“Little!” Maureen laughed. “I barely recognized him when he came over this weekend.”

“You’re telling me.” He motioned for the women to enter his office. “I said good-bye at the end of the school year, looking down at his little red head, and came back in the fall looking up! Have a seat, ladies.”

Natalia sat in the plush leather chair, Maureen beside her in a matching chair. Mr. Lawrence walked behind a large mahogany desk and pushed aside a stack of papers.

“Résumés,” he explained. “We need a PE coach, a band director, and a Spanish teacher. All by the end of the month. Lots of applications for band and PE, but none for Spanish. That’s always hard to fill.”

Natalia looked at Maureen, eyebrows lifted.

Maureen shook her head emphatically.

Mr. Lawrence caught the exchange and clapped his hands. “Señora Lopez!” He laughed. “Of course. You would make a great Spanish teacher. You were always the kids’ favorite Sunday school teacher.”

“Teaching Sunday school and teaching Spanish are
very
different, Jim.” Maureen frowned.

“But a teacher is a teacher,” Mr. Lawrence countered. “And you are a teacher.”

“No.” Maureen sat up straighter, her chin up. “I am an international corporate businesswoman.”

“Maureen.” He leaned forward. “I have no doubt you are a very gifted businesswoman. But teaching, while paying less, is not a career to shun. Here, it is a calling. We get the privilege of investing in the lives of young men and women. And those young people go out into the world and take what we’ve taught them, being lights in a dark world. This is one of the most fulfilling jobs you could ever have.”

Maureen laughed. “I’d forgotten what a salesman you are, Jim. And I agree, teaching is a calling. But it’s not
my
calling.”

“How do you know?” Natalia asked. “You have been looking for a job for three weeks. Nothing is opening up. And here there just ‘happens’ to be an opening for a Spanish teacher. Don’t you think God could be in this?”

“I like this girl.” Mr. Lawrence beamed.

“I do too,” Maureen responded, frowning. “But I don’t agree. I have no desire to be a Spanish teacher.”

Her tone made it clear that the conversation was over. Mr. Lawrence recognized it too, but a wink from him when Maureen’s head was turned let Natalia know that he would pray Maureen changed her mind.

“Got the last of the desks moved out of Mrs. Kennedy’s room.” Brian Younger Jr. poked his head in Mr. Lawrence’s office. His crystal blue eyes widened when he saw Natalia.

“Brian.” Mr. Lawrence stood. “I was just about to give Miss Natalia here a tour. But I’m sure she’d rather see the school with you than with me.”