Waking Up In Charleston

Susie didn’t look convinced. “I’m not scared of bugs.”

“Snakes can climb up there, too,” Jimmy exaggerated. “And big ole birds can swoop in and carry little kids away.”

Susie’s eyes widened. “You’re not that much bigger than me. How come they won’t get you?”

“’Cause we’re tough,” Larry said.

“And we’re boys,” Jimmy added. “They only come after girls.”

Caleb listened to the exchange with amusement, then waited to see what Susie’s response would be.

She hugged Amanda a little tighter, then announced imperiously, “I don’t want to be in your ole tree house. Mr. Caleb and me are gonna build a playhouse down here and I’m gonna have tea parties and cookies and you can’t come in, so there.” She gazed into Caleb’s eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely, short stuff. It’ll be the best playhouse in all of Charleston,” he promised.

“And only me and you and Mommy can come inside,” she added emphatically.

“Seems fair to me,” Caleb said.

“Okay, now that we’ve agreed to all these building plans, I think it’s time for you guys to take your baths and get to bed. Scoot,” Amanda said, setting Susie back on her feet.

All three kids headed for the house, but Susie ran back and held her arms out to Caleb. When he’d picked her up, she kissed him. “I love you, Mr. Caleb,” she said.

“Love you, too, little one.”

He put her down reluctantly and watched her run off.

“I’m sorry you’ve gotten dragged into yet another housing project for this family,” Amanda told him. “You don’t have to do it, if you don’t have time.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” he assured her. “I like your kids.” He hesitated, then added, “I can think of someone else who might want to help.”

She studied him with a narrowed gaze. “Oh?”

“Why don’t you give your father a call? I’ll bet he’d enjoy giving the boys a hand.”

“Are you crazy?” she retorted bluntly. “Why on earth would I call my father under any condition? And what makes you think he’d even take the call, much less come over here?”

“A lot of time has passed, Amanda.”

“Not since the last time I reached out to him. He all but laughed in my face when I tried to turn to him for help after Bobby died. I swallowed my pride then, Caleb. I won’t do it again.” She studied him with undisguised dismay. “Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

He regarded her somberly. “Because I know a day will come when it’s too late and you’ll regret it with all your heart that you didn’t try harder.”

Her expression remained stoic and determined. “I’ve long since learned to live with regrets. My relationship with my father is what it is. There’s nothing I can do to change it.”

“Amanda, surely you know better than that,” he chided. “Aren’t you even willing to try?”

“Stop pushing me on this, Caleb,” she responded heatedly. “Stop trying to make it sound as if I’m throwing some stubborn little snit. It was my father’s decision to cut me out of his life. He’s going to have to be the one to reach out. I’m done.”

Caleb heard the unyielding tone in her voice and decided it would be prudent to back down. Otherwise she might start asking a whole lot of questions he didn’t want to answer, such as when he’d become such an advocate for Big Max.

“Okay, you’ve made your point,” he said quietly, trying to hide his disappointment.

She frowned at him. “Don’t you dare look at me like that,” she snapped.

“Like what?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“As if I’m disappointing you.”

“Sorry. It’s the circumstances that disappoint me, not you specifically. Nothing is more important than family, and I hate seeing people turning their backs on the ones they have.”

“Then go have this chat with Big Max. He’s the one who’s raised rejection to a whole new level.”

“Maybe I will,” he said mildly, wondering if she hadn’t inadvertently given him the perfect excuse to do what he’d already been attempting to do—build a bridge between these two.

She seemed startled by his response, but then her shoulders squared stiffly. “Just don’t bother reporting back to me. I don’t want to hear anything you might have to say about my father.”

Caleb sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Let’s get back to the tree house for a minute. Maybe the boys are right and Josh will help. I can probably put it together, but it’s bound to be sturdier with an expert on the premises. He’d be a help with Susie’s playhouse, too. And he may well have leftover supplies, so there won’t be many expenses. I’ll give him a call.” He forced a smile and moved on. “Did you see the look in your sons’ eyes when you agreed to let them do this? They’re over the moon.”

Amanda’s anger visibly faded and she smiled slowly. “They were, weren’t they? For the first time in I can’t remember how long, it feels good not to have to deny them something they want.”

“A little denial isn’t bad for a child,” he reminded her. “It helps them learn that sometimes you have to work hard to earn the things you want.”

“I know, but I would give them everything if I could,” she said.

He understood the sentiment, but he couldn’t help reminding her, “That’s how Bobby felt, and look where it led.”

“Believe me, no one is more aware of that than I am,” she said soberly. “And if I forget it from time to time in my desire to make up to them for the bad times, I hope you’ll bring me back in line.”

“You’re a good mother, Amanda. I don’t think you need me to tell you what’s right.”

A part of him wanted to tell her, though, that he’d always be around if she needed him to fall back on, but it was the wrong thing to say, the wrong time to say it.

“I should go,” he said instead. He needed to remind himself that this wasn’t his home, wasn’t his family and that he’d already overstepped the boundaries tonight.

“But you barely ate any of your pizza,” she protested.

“I’ll take a couple of slices home with me. I can eat while I’m going over my sermon for tomorrow.”

He thought he detected disappointment in her expression, but she was quick to recover and offer a bright smile.

“I’ll wrap it up for you,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you to stand up there in front of the entire congregation and have to wing your way through a sermon, though something tells me you could do it. You have quite a way with words.”

“It’s probably best if we don’t put that theory to the test,” he said.

Inside, he accepted the pizza from her, then headed for the door. “Good night, Amanda. Thanks.”

She regarded him with surprise. “For what?”