Page 105 of A Surefire Love
“He woke me up before that. We heard Dad’s phone ring. He won’t tell me any more than what I told you, but I think …” Carter’s voice grew rough. “I think my brother’s in trouble, and I don’t want it to get any worse, like it did with your brother. Dylan’s too afraid of Dad to tell our parents what happened.”
“Okay. It’s going to be all right.” He was still working out how that would be true, but reassurance seemed like the place to start. “Thank you for telling me.”
“What’ll happen?”
Anson sighed as he stared at the steering wheel. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but you guys really need to talk to your parents.”
“I’m telling you. Dad’s … look, he’s the reason I’m not on the basketball team.”
“What?”
“I wanted to be—that’s why I did the whole stagehand thing. And now that I know about your brother, I get why you reported us. It was pretty dumb to begin with. I kind ofthought if I got in trouble, Dad would stay around more to keep me in line or something, and Mom might be happy.”
Anson’s stomach churned. He never would’ve guessed that the acting out was a misguided attempt to save his parents’ marriage.
“With Dad, either he’s your biggest fan or your biggest enemy.” Carter’s voice faltered. “He’s a fan of me, so he didn’t believe I did anything wrong. All that happened was he got extra mad at you. He hasn’t liked you since the day I told him what you said about the odds of getting on a D1 team.”
Frustration cracked through Anson’s muscles, but he suppressed a reaction that wouldn’t help. “He won’t consider his own son an enemy.”
“Why not? He thinks Mom’s one.”
Anson wanted to say he was sure it wasn’t that bad, but how would he know? If the rift between Eric and Samantha had caused the kids to react in the ways Carter described, something major had gone off course. Knowing Blaze’s upbringing reminded him that parents didn’t always have their kids’ best interests in mind. Were Carter and Dylan in danger? What about Samantha—or even Eric?
Before he could pose a question, Carter said, “With me, Dad wants to talk about college and basketball, and he attends my games and stuff. He started the Division I talk. That was cool for a while, but at this point, it’d actually be good if he believed in me as a basketball star a little less. Like, if he could be okay with me playing for a less competitive team and working on a degree that’ll get me a jobaftercollege. But that’s how he is with me. Total fan. With Dylan, it’s different. Most of the time, Dad doesn’t even see him, but that won’t last if Dylan burned the church down. Dad would have him thrown in jail.”
“That’s not up to him.” Anson didn’t know who would decide, but Dylan was a minor. It likely was an accident. They wouldn’t send him to jail for that, would they? “How’s Dylan holding up?”
“He’s mostly been in his room. I think. Maybe he’s still sneaking out. He said something about running away, but he didn’t mean it.”
Anson rubbed his face. He’d underreacted to a kid breaking into the church. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. “What’s your family doing for Thanksgiving?”
“We’re going to my aunt and uncle’s house at, like, four.”
Which meant the Newsomes weren’t hosting and didn’t have plans first thing in the morning. “Is everybody still up?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Anson weighed his options one more time. The kids needed help. The sooner, the better, since it seemed likely Dylan had already made one devastating middle-of-the-night decision.
Is it my place to go have the conversation, Lord?
He’d already been fired, so he had little to lose by poking sensitive topics. Besides, Carter had chosen to open up to Anson, and neither of the boys seemed willing to talk to their parents alone.
“How about I come over, and we all have a talk?”
“Dad isn’t going to want to see you.”
“I’ll invite Pastor Greg too.” They’d need a mediator, and Greg was still an MOBC pastor who would want to be involved. “I imagine he’ll be able to make it.”
“Dad doesn’t hate him so much, but I don’t think he listens to him either.”
Probably not. “I’m going to pray that God will smooth the way.”
Carter was silent for a few beats. “You really think praying’s going to help?”
“I prayed quite a bit before I told you about Gury, and God answered those prayers.”
“Because I talked to you?” His flat tone suggested he wasn’t impressed by the evidence.
