Page 5 of A Surefire Love
Eric stiffened, his chin all but disappearing into his neck. “Everyone will benefit if you focus on the part of your job description that requires engaging youth activities.”
Anson braced his hands on the desk. “Carter told me point-blank that he doesn’t believe he needs a relationship with God.” How could that not break his father’s heart? It weighed heavy on Anson’s. “You, of all people, shouldn’t want me to cut back on teaching when one of my biggest prayers for this year is that your son would make a decision for Christ.”
“We raised Carter right, and he’ll make the right decision, but preaching at him hasn’t worked yet. If anything, he’s the prime example of why things need to change.” His wagging finger was the last thing Anson saw as Eric stormed away.
3
Anson slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a car in The Depot’s parking lot. He waved an apology to the other driver. Frustration and regret had him all over the place tonight.
He hadn’t realized until their meeting earlier that Blaze noted who attended shows. Considering the teary end of that conversation, he shouldn’t be here. But his girlfriend was inside, and she was one of the few people he could tell about his meeting with Eric. Besides, he might get a minute between sets to smooth things over with Blaze.
He pulled into a spot, grabbed his keys, and headed in.
The Depot was owned by Many Oaks’ one-and-only claim to fame, celebrity couple Philip and Michaela Miller. After growing up in Many Oaks, Philip made a name for himself with the rock band Awestruck. When he left the music industry, he returned home and transformed the abandoned train station into a restaurant and music venue. His pop star wife toured regularly while Philip played a few times a week with the house band.
Rumor had it, Blaze heard The Signalmen early on and pitched the idea of singing with them. Ever since, the marquee out front advertised Blaze and The Signalmen’s bi-weekly performances. She was so dedicated that she’d taken the stage alone once when the flu sidelined the rest of the band.
She’d been mesmerizing.
Yet the woman couldn’t get herself to church on time to save her life.
Then again, was Anson’s annoyance over her tardiness any better than Eric’s emphasis on numbers? Maybe next time it was his turn to preach, he ought to expound on valuing the heart over outcomes. Not that the Lord would want him bashing ideas from the pulpit when he didn’t fully understand the board’s decision—or its implications.
Responses trump reactions every time, Coach Voss used to say.
The restaurant’s dining room occupied the front half of The Depot. Even from there, Blaze’s voice beckoned him onward. A bar separated the restaurant from the music hall, and he squeezed between the people clustered around it.
While he waited for a bartender to finish up with other customers, he surveyed the music hall. Waitstaff navigated the tables at the back of the cavernous room. Families finished up late dinners. A handful of others dotted the dance floor. On stage, Blaze belted out a pop cover.
Since their meeting, she’d changed into a cropped tank top that skimmed the high waist of her jeans. Her rings and necklaces glinted under the stage lights. Her thick, wavy hair shimmered with every move.
Why did she claim her potential in some areas—like singing here—while leaving so much on the table in others?Worship team would be an easy fit for her, but she never stepped forward.
“The usual?” The bartender was already filling a glass with soda.
Anson nodded and turned his attention back to the room. He spotted his girlfriend’s sleek brown ponytail over at their usual table. She sat with a few of their friends.
Closer to him, at a bar-height table, perched a young girl with long dark hair and thick glasses. Mercy. She swung her feet as she took a pull of her milkshake. Two women shared her small table.
He’d handled Mercy’s little field trip the way he would with any student. He hadn’t realized she’d spend an hour crying over it.
“Here you go.” The bartender handed Anson his soda.
He paid and made a wide circle around Mercy’s table to where Sydney sat with her friends Madison and Honor.
Honor’s boyfriend, Jimmy, lifted his nearly-empty whisky tumbler toward Anson. “He’s a man,” he croaked over Blaze’s smooth tones. “He’ll understand.”
Honor’s shoulder lifted as she shifted away from her boyfriend. Sydney flicked a warning glance to Anson.
Another glass sat empty on the table by Jimmy’s seat. Anson wouldn’t come to The Depot if he begrudged others the occasional drink, but the show had started twenty minutes ago. Jimmy was moving fast.
Anson slid his arm along the back of Sydney’s chair as he took his seat. “I doubt I’ll agree, but you can try me.”
Jimmy scoffed, finished his drink, and stalked off.
“What was that about?” He looked to Honor for an answer, but she dropped her gaze.
Sydney tipped her head closer. “His boss promoted a woman over him. He thinks he’s better qualified.”
