A Wedding In The Family

“I guess we could go for a little while,” Angela replied. She regarded Adam’s expression of satisfaction with irritation. “You cheated.”

“Next time, I won’t need to,” he responded, and reached for Heather’s hand as they headed toward the door. “I want to lock up my office. When Heather is changed, meet me at the front door.”

“See you in a minute,” Heather said, pulling free from Adam’s grasp and running into the locker room.

“All right?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting Angela’s reply.

She nodded. “See you in a minute,” she echoed her daughter’s comment. “Ready or not.”

“I’ll be ready,” he responded, then disappeared through the door to his office.

But would she ever be ready to have another man in her life after living through twelve years of the mistake she’d made in marrying Dan Sanders? Was her judgment of men good enough that she’d ever take another chance with one? “No,” she reminded herself, “no, no, no.” She wouldn’t risk making the same error again, wouldn’t even come close to it…or to any man who might interest her enough to threaten her freedom. No one could be worth that Not even this guy.

Heather dried her hair quickly and changed into her jeans and a T-shirt. “Mom, I’m ready. Let’s go!” she said, motioning Angela toward the door. “Adam’s waiting.”

“Yes, he is,” Angela sighed, and they headed for the lobby.

“Mint chocolate chip.” Heather gave her order to Adam. “Two scoops. It’s my favorite.”

“And what is your mom’s favorite?” Adam asked Heather, but looked over at Angela for a reply.

“A small chocolate milk shake would be great,” Angela said immediately, hoping to squelch Heather’s probable response.

“But Mom, you always have that big caramel sundae with the peanuts and all that whipped cr—” Angela’s hand moved deftly to cover her daughter’s open mouth—a move it had made numerous times in six years. She caught the smile of amusement on Adam’s face. Angela had eaten only one sundae like that in the past six months, but Heather made it sound as though it was a part of her daily diet. She started to explain, but suddenly it was their turn at the counter.

“Mint chocolate chip, double-scoop cone and two large caramel sundaes with nuts and whipped cream,” Adam requested.

“The milk shake would have been fine,” she said, and released her hold on her child.

Adam’s laugh was gentle. “There’s no need to settle for ‘fine.’ This will be better.”

“That’s true,” she admitted, her mouth curving into a reluctant smile. Oh, well, she knew she’d never have a figure like Tiffany’s. Not even if she gave up eating altogether.

Soon they were seated at a table, enjoying the desserts. Conversation flowed between Adam and Angela, more easily than it had at the Open House. They discussed some activities at the center, and Angela’s job as principal. Heather added some thoughts of her own along the way. Then the youngster had a serious question for Adam.

“Are you a Christian?” They were the blunt words of a six-year-old.

Angela cringed. She would have asked him, too, but not quite so openly or loudly.

“Yes,” Adam answered easily, “I go to First Church on Third Avenue.”

“That’s where my sister-in-law attended before she and Rob moved away,” Angela said, suddenly distracted from Heather’s tactlessness.

“Lots of people go to church,” Heather continued. “But I mean are you really a Christian?”

“Yes, I accepted Christ into my heart over seven years ago,” he explained to Heather before turning his attention back to Angela. “You mean Rob, the lawyer turned minister? His wife?”

“Yes, Micah Granston. Shepherd was her last name before she married my brother. Do you remember her? She had very long reddish hair then. It’s much shorter now. She’s a teacher and an artist.”

“I’ve only been going there since I moved to this area about a year and a half ago. She may have left before I joined that church. How long have they been married?”

“About two years. A little more than that, actually,” Angela said. “So she would have been gone by the time you started there. But she always liked that church.”

“I do, too. It’s just what I was looking for,” Adam added. “Where do you attend?”

“Mount Pleasant on Oakwood Avenue,” Heather answered for her mother. “We’re Christians, too, you know.”

“I know,” he answered.

“How?” Heather asked, a frown scrunching up her freckled face. “How could you know without asking?”

“I guess…,” he began, “it’s just something I sensed.” His eyes rose to meet Angela’s and, for a long moment, held them. She couldn’t remember a look feeling any more intense than the heart-stopping gaze she now shared with Adam. Did he feel it, too?

But interruption came swiftly. Heather had more ground to cover. “My brothers are Christians, too, and Grandma and Grandpa, and so are Uncle Rob and Aunt Micah and Uncle Eric and—”

“I think he gets the picture, hon,” Angela interjected before glancing back at her daughter. “Heather may become the next preacher in the family.”

“She’d be good at it,” Adam said. “She could have a lot of converts under her direct style of witnessing.”

“Right, she’ll either have a lot or know the reason why not,” Angela replied with a laugh. She allowed herself to study Adam’s face. Touches of humor lingered around his mouth and eyes, but something about the set of his jaw made him, at times, she thought, look rather stubborn.

“Are your mother and father Christians, too?” Heather continued her quest for knowledge. She had inherited that quality from her grandfather, the snoopy one in the family, Angela thought with relief. There’s at least one flaw she hadn’t directly inflicted on her offspring. It was one generation removed.

“No, my parents weren’t saved. They weren’t interested in religion of any kind,” Adam stated. “In fact, I can’t remember being in a church with them for anything other than a wedding or two.” He glanced at Heather’s suddenly startled expression.

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “That must have felt weird. I mean, what did you do on Sunday mornings and Sunday nights?”

“We slept late in the mornings, and on Sunday evenings we…probably watched a lot of television if it was bad weather, and played outdoors if it was nice. It seems like such a long time ago,” he added.

Living under their parents’ roof had happened a long time ago for both of them, Angela thought His eyes met hers again with a contemplative look, and she wondered about the thoughts behind it.

“And they still don’t go to church?” Heather persisted.

Adam shook his head without looking away from Angela’s steady blue gaze. “They’ve both died. My father had a heart attack when he was only fifty-four.”

“So young?” Angela asked.

“That’s not young,” Heather informed them. “Mom, you know Grandpa is fifty-four!”

Adam and Angela both laughed a little. Then Adam offered, “I guess it depends on your perspective.”

Their perspectives both came from the thirty-something bracket. Angela guessed probably thirty-four or thirty-five for Adam as she glanced at his dark blond hair, cut short and tapered neatly to the collar of his plaid shirt. She particularly liked the crinkly laugh lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. That gave him a friendly, appealing look that Angela was certain she wasn’t the first female to notice.

She realized Adam was assessing her, too, from across the table, and wished for a moment that she could read his mind. Then she decided that it was probably better that she couldn’t. She might be disappointed. However, in the smokey gray of his eyes, she saw what she was sure was a gleam of interest.

Eventually they finished their ice cream and made the short walk to Adam’s silver pickup truck for the ride back to the center. Heather climbed into the middle of the front seat; Angela joined her on the passenger side, and Adam shut the door. Then he drove back to the large parking lot where he pulled the truck up next to Angela’s very used, dark green van. The wear and tear of three kids and their friends over the years had a way of aging anything. Including moms.

Heather hopped from the truck to her seat in the van, and Angela and Adam walked across to the driver’s door.