Page 17 of Playing With Fire

Ricky couldn’t look away.

She continued. “I once found myself at the table between an Irish backpacker who Silas had found sleeping on a bench in the park, and a former General Motors executive who had just got out on parole for insider trading.”

Ricky stiffened. “That doesn’t sound like responsible parenting. They should be protecting these kids, not exposing them to risks.”

His gaze narrowed. He began staring at each adult as though assessing them as potential criminals.

“You don’t believe in redemption?” The voice at their shoulder was a deep, pleasant baritone, delivered in the quick, clipped style of born and bred New Yorkers.

Jodi turned with a smile. Ricky threw the newcomer a cool but polite look.

“Silas Beecham.” The tall, good-looking man wore a curious combination of scruffy but high-end jeans with a much-laundered UNICEF cotton sweater and a pair of new red sneakers.

He nodded at Jodi and thrust out his hand at Ricky, who took it with a guarded smile. “You must be Ricky Sharp, local hero and according to your mom, most eligible bachelor in Temple Mountain. Big shoes to fill.”

Jodi felt a wave of color creep up her neck. She eased away, a little alarmed at the waves of machismo between the two men.

Maybe it was a New York thing. Silas Beecham might be a preacher now, but the tough, competitive streak which had served him so well on Wall Street still lingered beneath the surface.

And Ricky? Jodi guessed that no one made it to the New York City Fire Department without being ready to literally walk through fire.

Ricky’s voice was light but she could sense the steel beneath. And so, from Silas’ challenging gleam, could the preacher.

“What can I say?” Ricky shrugged with faux modesty. “My mom made me a Captain America costume every year for Halloween until I left for college. And that’s only because I refused to wear The Hulk mask once my skin cleared up.”

His smile was thin. “But I can tell you this. Captain America knows evil when he sees it. And he doesn’t invite it back for supper.”

Silas thrust his hands in his pockets and laughed.

Jodi bit back a sigh. She knew what was coming.

“Redemption is fundamental to democracy,” said Silas mildly. “And to our justice system. If we don’t believe that a person can atone for their mistakes and truly change, we are simply condemning humanity to repeating mistakes. It’s saying...”

“It’s saying that bad people will always be a danger—that abusers will never change.” Ricky’s face had darkened. “And that people who have charge of innocent children ought to be protecting them and not exposing them to risk.”

Jodi looked from one to the other. The two men were almost nose to nose, and she couldn’t help but think about how they were similar, yet different. Both strong, confident men who weren’t shy about speaking their mind. Both successful in professions where there was no room for vacillation or second guessing. And yet the lens through which they viewed the world had set them poles apart.

Ricky was fractionally taller and much leaner, his olive complexion and deep-set dark eyes almost piratical against the stocky blondness of the minister.

“Risk? Is a homeless man necessarily more dangerous than a slick executive?”

The verbal sparring continued. Jodi backed away slowly until she caught Hattie’s eye. Hattie was directing traffic, some folks to set the table, others to bring in the piled plates of food.

“Judah, honey, remind Alma that the iPad goes on the kitchen bench until supper now, and please check that no one has left the tap running in the downstairs washroom. Josh, come here please my love, for you I have a special job.”

Judah obediently unfolded his long legs, giving his brother a not so friendly kick on the way past. Josh lunged forward, about to tackle his brother to the floor when he caught Hattie’s stern eye.

She smiled at him fondly. “Can you get Jaime from her cot? She’s always so good for you.”

Josh’s blunt features flushed with pleasure. He scrambled to his feet, and ambled through the door towards the stairs.

Jodi shook her head. She scooped up a bowl of potato salad and a handful of paper napkins.

“Hattie the lion tamer. Honestly, I don’t know how you get those kids to cooperate. Most people would take one look at their history and head for the hills. It’s like you and Silas go looking for hard cases.”

Hattie hefted a platter of sliced ham. “Suffer the children, right?” She looked like a child herself in an oversize shirt and skinny jeans. Her face was alight with enthusiasm.

“It’s taken a lot of work to get that baby girl settled, and Alma has really come out of her shell. And the twins...well they are what they are. Boys turning into men, full of spit and vinegar as my grandma used to say. But in the end, it’s not that complicated. We love those children. And love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

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