Page 3 of A Surefire Love
The statement hit like a physical blow. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard from her Saplings teachers that she was a handful. Talking out of turn, not memorizing her verses, not following instructions. But then”—he shrugged, mouth tipping—“she’s had it rough. Your mom was sick for a while before you lost her, wasn’t she?”
She clenched her jaw. Mom had been sick as long asBlaze had known her, but Anson was likely referring to the liver failure that had taken her in the end, not the alcoholism that had haunted Mom as far back as Blaze could remember.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” His voice softened. “I can’t imagine what it was like for Mercy to lose her Mom while she was so young. Having her half-sister take over as her guardian must’ve been an adjustment.”
As if Blaze hadn’t been Mercy’s primary caretaker most of her life. As if the fact that they had different fathers made them less connected. The anger boiling in her belly dropped her tone to a warning. “You think she’d have it better with our mom?”
Anson lifted his hands in a gesture of innocence. “No.”
What did he know about their lives? She’d been a fool to think she could offer her help and he’d do something as simple as take it.
She jolted to her feet. “For the record, the last four years have been the most stable of our lives.” Her voice shook. “Mercy is doing great. It’s time to reassess how you’ve labeled us.”
She wouldn’t be sending Mercy to Rooted. She might shop for a whole new church. She pivoted to leave.
Anson beat her to the door in three long strides. “I didn’t mean to say you weren’t doing a good job with her.”
“Yet you didn’t commend me on doing well either.”
“I’m sure you’re doing the best you can.” Despite his kind tone, he’d again pulled up short of a compliment.
Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her hate for them only spawned more. “I’m sure you are too.” She shouldered past him and hurried out.
2
Anson stood in the doorway as Blaze bustled off. Regret gnawed on his stomach. This wasn’t the first time he’d sent her away in tears. Apparently, in the last nine years, he hadn’t learned as much about navigating difficult conversations as he’d thought. He could chase after her, but he’d likely make everything worse.
Besides, Anson was the only pastor in the building that afternoon, so the man advancing down the hall was probably aiming for his office. The lights in the hall were off, but sunlight from the windows illuminated Eric Newsome’s trim build and business-casual clothing.
As Blaze walked past him, Eric turned his head to watch her, highlighting the distinct profile of his weak chin. That the head of the leadership board saw no need to greet her suggested she’d avoided eye contact.
Regret sank its teeth deeper. Anson never should’ve mentioned Blaze’s mom. And voicing doubts about her qualifications to lead? Another error. She’d always thrown him off balance, but that was no excuse.
Eric slowed as he reached him, eyebrows raised.
Anson wasn’t about to add gossip to his list of mistakes. “Working out some differences of opinion.”
“Ah.” He motioned to Anson’s office. “How’d your parents’ move go?”
“Smoothly. This was something like the sixth time they’ve moved for a job, so they have it down to a science.” He returned to his chair.
Eric shut the door before taking the seat Blaze had vacated. He must not’ve come for a casual chat. “Good. Glad they’re settled.” He gave a perfunctory smile. “I’m here to catch you up on the meeting you missed. There’s a new initiative I wanted to discuss before you saw it yourself.”
“Okay.” Anson kept his posture relaxed, even as he went on guard. Nothing significant had been on the agenda. If a new “initiative” had come up at the last minute, they should’ve notified him or postponed the discussion.
With only a couple of months’ experience as head of the board, Eric might not know that protocol. He shifted, widening his elbows. “We’ve noticed youth group attendance dwindling the last few years.”
“We had a couple of big graduating classes. The Henderson triplets were a quarter of Branching Out all on their own.” Though in truth, the whole church was down more than a third from its peak of about three hundred attenders ten to fifteen years ago.
“It’s not just graduates who leave. The James family and the Oxnards both switched to Grace Evangelical.”
“I noticed. I contacted both families about the summer student Bible studies, but they never responded.”
“What about fun events? Did you invite them to those?”
“Not specifically. I had already reached out twice to eachfamily before the first campfire and well before the water park trip. I wasn’t going to pressure them.”
