Page 32 of Deliver Me

Her words were cut off when the doorbell rang, and they both looked at one another in confusion. It was late and the roads were icy, neither of them had been expecting company.

He rose quickly, hurrying to the door with Mia close behind him as the doorbell rang again, fast and desperate.

“It could be someone who lost control of their car and ended up stuck in the ditch,” Mia speculated. “The roads were getting slick when I came home earlier.”

But he opened the door to a familiar face, not a stranger.

“Ms. Daniels? Are you okay? Mia, honey, grab her stuff off the porch. What’s going on?”

He pulled Kennedy in out of the cold, her nose and cheeks red from the biting wind and her eyes puffy and watery from the tears that were freezing on her lashes. At her feet were two small bags, stuffed to overflowing with clothes.

She didn’t answer his questions, eyes searching wildly until she found Mia and then launching herself forward into Mia’s arms.

Mia caught her and shot her father a confused look as she tried to guide her friend into the warmth of the living room. “Hey, let’s get you warm, okay? Did you walk here?”

Kennedy nodded, hiccupping through her sobs.

“Dad, can you grab her a blanket? She’s freezing.”

It took them almost half an hour, several blankets, and a cup of hot cocoa to get her warmed up and calmed down enough to answer their questions about what happened.

“They kicked me out,” she said dully, staring into the fire and refusing to look at Pastor Anderson.

“Your parents?”

Kennedy nodded, looking at Mia with fresh tears brimming in her eyes. “Someone saw me in Abilene. I finally got brave enough to go on a date and I guess they told my parents.”

Mia looked at her dad, at the confusion on his face. He wasn’t putting it together just yet. “She was on a date with a girl,” Mia whispered.

His brows drew together, and Kennedy’s lip trembled, expecting the worst. “So, they kicked you out into the cold, with nothing but two bags of clothes? They made you walk to … Did they even know where you were going? That you would have somewhere to go? Or were they expecting you to sleep outside tonight?”

“I don’t know. They took my phone so I couldn’t call anyone. Told me they were paying for it and they wouldn’t be spending any more money on …” she wiped her face on her sleeve as another round of tears began. “They called me names,” she finished.

“And you came here,” Pastor Anderson said.

Kennedy nodded. “Mia told me I could if something ever happened. She said that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the streets because I’m … because I like girls.” She looked up at him, waiting to see if Mia was right or if she was about to be kicked out into the cold for the second time that night.

“Of course, you can come here,” he said, patting her hand reassuringly. “We have an extra bedroom upstairs and Mia can help you get settled. I’ll go by your parent’s place tomorrow and see if they’ll give me the rest of your clothes and personal items.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Let’s get you settled, and Mia can find you something to eat if you’re hungry.” His voice was calm, but Mia knew that was only for Kennedy’s sake. She could feel the anger he was trying not to show.

She smiled at him gratefully as she grabbed Kennedy’s bags. Their own disagreement lay fresh and unhealed between them, but she knew that he would never do this, no matter how much he disliked her decisions. He loved her, and they would work it out.

In the meantime, he would have some unpleasant words for Kennedy’s parents about their failures as parents and as Christians, both of which required them to love their daughter unconditionally and not throw her out of their home.

She got Kennedy settled and tucked into her new bed and then crept back downstairs to find him still sitting in his chair, staring pensively into the fire.

“Is she alright?” he asked when he looked up and found her standing hesitantly in the doorway.

“Yes, she’s sleeping.”

“I’m glad you told her to come here. I hate to think what might have happened to her otherwise.”

She sat down on the couch again, tugging the blanket over her legs, and waited.

“I still don’t know that I agree with the choices that you’re making,” he spoke slowly, carefully weighing each word, “but I owe it to you to hear you out about why you think these things will make you happy.”

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