Page 91 of A Surefire Love
Instead of skirting the downtown area to get home, Blaze flipped on her blinker and turned. A couple of blocks later, she found a parking spot on the square and started down the path toward the gazebo. Many of the oaks retained their leaves, brown and rattling overhead.
A text pinged as she passed the chinkapin oak, and she found a message from Nolan.If they want a leader for Rooted, I vote they bring Anson back. I’m not going to take his place.
Great. If she didn’t lead, there would be no Many Oaks Bible Church youth group for Mercy. She ought to say she’d pray about it, but her testimony had done so much damage already, and she hadn’t even given it yet. She didn’t belong on the youth ministry team at all, let alone leading Rooted. Given how messy everything had become, maybe no one was qualified.
Where did that leave them? In God’s hands. Where they’d always been. She’d found that truth more comforting before the Lord had allowed the board to fire Anson.
They might just bring in a new volunteer to lead, she replied.
That’s fine. MOBC isn’t the right place for me anyway if this is how they operate.
I’m sure Anson appreciates the support.She sent themessage, wishing she’d been the one to give it to him, and put the phone away.
Ahead, late autumn had rendered the vines on the gazebo frail and sparse. She stepped up into the shelter and scanned the bench that hugged the perimeter. Not even a stray wrapper lay on or beneath the white slats. No signs that Mercy had been here. Not that her presence in the gazebo would definitively rule out a trip to the church.
Blaze drove the shortest route home, the one a girl on foot would choose, though it meant slower driving with more stops. It was quite a distance for an eleven-year-old to walk in the dark, and the church would’ve been another two miles.
In the garage, she stopped by Mercy’s bike. They’d upgraded her children’s bicycle to a small mountain bike last summer, and Mercy had zipped around the neighborhood with her friends. Once the weather had cooled and school started, the bike had been more or less forgotten. Blaze squeezed the front tire.
Totally flat.
Would Mercy ride it that way?
Her phone pinged. Expecting another text from Nolan, she pulled it out.
Anson.
Her eyes instantly watered, and with weak fingers, she opened the message.
I’m sorry we fought. I’m not in a great headspace. Haven’t slept much since Thursday. Can we try again in a day or two?
I hate this. I miss you already.
Unexpected and sweet, the messages twisted her stomach. She wasn’t in a great headspace either. Her fight with Anson had mostly sprung from her defensiveness aboutMercy. But no one knew she’d been out. As long as Mercy kept quiet and no proof indicating her surfaced, reconnecting with Anson shouldn’t be as hard as Blaze was making it.
Her legs ached from squatting by the bike, so she straightened to compose her reply.
I’m not in a great headspace either. A day or two sounds good. I’ll be at The Depot tomorrow. Otherwise, I’ll be home Tuesday night.
She’d heard couples needed to learn to navigate conflict, but it would’ve been nice if she and Anson could’ve made it past their second date before it crashed in on them.
Monday’s basketballpractice served as a much-needed mental break for Anson. One that ended abruptly as he left the gym and his phone went off with a call from Nolan.
Anson stopped at the exit to answer, looking out through the glass at the high school parking lot. The clouds hung low over the smattering of cars. “Hey, Nolan. What’s up?”
“It’s ridiculous, firing you. And then to say we’re not teaching anymore, except with these five-minute pre-recorded devos? Aren’t we a church anymore?”
“Yeah, I—”
“I’m not standing for it.” Nolan was more fired up than Anson had ever heard him—except perhaps during the fight on the bus all those years ago.
Uneasiness crept through Anson’s aching muscles.
“I’m going to bail if they don’t bring you back with a raise and a huge apology. I’ll get members to vote. You’d get your job back by a landslide, and we could elect a new board.”
“Hold on. Back up.” Anson clenched and released the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. In theory, he’d wanted someone to feel this way—everyone, actually—but a fight had cost Coach Voss his life, and this time, it could split the church. The damage to individuals’ spiritual lives could be devastating. Blaze had been wise to shy away from pointing fingers and toward extending grace.
“I don’t know all the factors that went into the decision. Let’s go slow, assume the best, and prioritize the ministry.” The words tasted like spoiled milk.
