Page 37 of A Surefire Love
But to help herself and Mercy, she ought to get on board while her sister was still so excited about the bandwagon.
After dinner, she and Mercy sorted through the food on the floor. They would donate the unopened items to a food pantry. They carried the rest—minus some chocolate, a bag of chips, and a box of Blaze’s favorite soda—to the trash can outside before heading to the church.
By the time they entered the youth room, Anson was already running through opening announcements for the ten students who’d come. Maybe they needed to offer moreenticing food to increase attendance. Pizza? Although that was probably a processed food that could worsen Mercy’s ADHD.
And perhaps Blaze’s. If she had it.
The kids sprang up and dashed toward the hall, and she realized announcements had ended. Nolan went with the students.
Anson pulled an inflatable ball from the bottom shelf of the supply cabinet. Passing the ball from one hand to the other, he turned from the cabinet and froze upon seeing her lingering. “There a problem?”
So many problems. She could use an outside perspective, especially from someone with experience with kids, but he’d hardly said two words to her since the canoe trip, and he’d skipped both Monday shows since. Seemed a little extreme to avoid her for being clumsy. She shrugged and stepped into the hall.
But wasn’t giving advice part of what pastors did? Anson cared about the students. He’d probably break his silence to help Mercy.
Blaze started for the gym at a slow pace, forcing him to catch up. Once he was beside her, she said, “Mercy was diagnosed with ADHD. Do you think putting her on medication right away is a bad idea?”
Anson’s brow furrowed. “Medication isn’t a choice to be made lightly.”
“Exactly. It’s just, she’s struggling in a lot of ways. I don’t know. All the implications and options and revelations are overwhelming. This whole time, I suspected we were the problem. Apparently, she did too. I never knew she thought that about herself. Now that I know it’s a disorder, I don’tknow if I should be relieved or depressed. Especially since I think I might have it too.”
He blew out a breath. “If those are the options, pick relieved.”
Maybe that was wise.
Anson jogged ahead then, leaving her to walk alone past the sanctuary, offices, and kitchen. She scoffed. What was that? Two platitudes and then he bolted? His absence at her shows and his reluctance to talk to her couldn’t be coincidence. Something had gone wrong.
If they were going to serve the youth together, she’d have to find out what.
14
Anson never had occasion to avoid one of his leaders before. Good thing, since youth group left him a sitting duck. Or, at the moment, a kneeling one. He reached under the couch to collect another remnant of the kids’ unauthorized jellybean war.
The students had picked up the majority before heading out. Because of an early shift, Nolan had jumped ship when the students left.
Blaze, however, lingered. “Hey, girls, can you check the gym for my phone?” There was a theatrical flair to Blaze’s voice as she addressed Hadley and Mercy.
Suspicious.
Likely happy to escape cleanup duty, the girls’ incessant chatter faded as they trotted off.
Blaze didn’t waste time once they were gone. “You can’t be this mad over the canoe thing, can you?”
Since she was so determined to be unavoidable, he sat up.
Her hands rested on her hips. She wore a graphite, long-sleeved top that looked softer than anything he’d ever owned. “You’re avoiding me,” she said.
Not well enough. He lowered his head and stuck his arm back under the couch. “I’m focusing on my responsibilities.” Including his responsibility to Sydney. His fingers touched a wrapper—one that didn’t deflate under his touch. He dragged the item out. A granola bar, still sealed. With another sweep of his arm, he brought out a stash of candy, granola bars, an apple, a sports drink, and a soda. Nothing had been opened. Had someone stashed this on purpose?
“You never said thank you for the cookies.” Hurt wove through her tone.
“Thank you. They were unnecessary but good. The students said so too.” He scanned for other stray items. Something as large as a couch cushion blocked the light near his feet.
“The students said they were unnecessary?”
She had a point. He could keep his distance and still be polite. He abandoned his treasure hunt to smile at her. “Good—we all thought they were good.”
“You were stung by a wasp, Blaze.” She’d lowered the pitch of her voice. Was that supposed to be him? “What happened was completely understandable. And by the way, ADHD makes a lot of sense. I’m glad you’re pursuing the help you and Mercy need to thrive.”
