Eight

After my prayers, I tried to fall asleep but my mind was refused to cooperate.

I couldn't stop thinking about the story Izabelle had told me about her and Kyle's childhood and how he'd come to love Ava.

Their mom had been killed in a car crash when Kyle was four, Izabelle seven. Their dad had worked a lot while their mom was alive, but after she was gone the pressure of raising two kids without a wife was more than he could handle.

Darryl Huxley had always been a drinker, but it wasn't until after his wife was gone that his sickness rocketed out of control and he gradually turned into someone they didn't recognize. A monster.

He started forgetting to do things like buying groceries, doing the laundry, and housework. Izabelle and Kyle had done what they could, but they were young, and it wasn't the same as when their mother was alive.

The first Christmas after their mom was gone had been the worst. They'd both wanted their mommy back and they'd hatched a plan. Walking to the mall to see Santa, they'd asked for their mommy to come home, too innocent to realize the impossibility of the request.

Izabelle said she'd known something was wrong by the strange look that Santa had given her, but she did her best to assure Kyle that everything was going to be okay. When they'd finally gotten home after walking a total of six miles to and from the mall in the bitter cold, their dad had been furious.

He'd been stumbling around, screaming and smelling of booze. When he'd unfastened his belt, Izabelle said she hadn't understood what he meant to do until he'd whipped them both.

Two weeks later, they awakened on Christmas morning to find their dad passed out beneath the Christmas tree, still drunk and lying in a pool of vomit.

"It's his fault!" Kyle had shouted angrily to Izabelle. "Mama's not here because of him! I hate him! I hate you!" His little fists had pounded Darryl until the man's big fist slammed into Kyle's jaw knocking him out cold. That was the Christmas they learned that there was no Santa Claus.

Nothing Kyle did pleased Darryl. It was as if Darryl hated him, and wanted to punish him for being alive. Izabelle had done what she could to protect her brother, but it wasn't enough, especially since Kyle was determined to shield his sister from their dad.

One afternoon Darryl had woken in a rage to find Kyle gone. Izabelle, who'd been throwing up all day, hadn't gone to school, but Kyle had and she'd tried to tell Darryl that.

"Stupid little rat!" He'd shouted stumbling out the door. "Wait till I get my hands on him!"

Izabelle began to cry and followed her dad to the bus stop where Kyle was about to be dropped off. She needn't have worried. Once five-year-old Ava Foster saw Kyle's dad, she calmly informed the bus driver that Kyle was supposed to be dropped off at her house that day.

Since Ava's dad was a school board member, the bus driver didn't hesitate and drove off leaving Darryl Huxley screaming and carrying on behind them.

Will Foster found out what happened and he insisted Kyle spend the night, but Kyle refused to leave his sister alone, so the Fosters went to pick up Izabelle. She'd begged Mr. and Mrs. Foster not to call social services. "They'll separate us. Please," she'd begged.

In the end, Mr. Foster forced Darryl Huxley into rehab and let Izabelle and Kyle stay with his family while their dad got help. Mr. Foster threatened to call social services and the police if Darryl didn't complete the rehab or if anything abusive happened again.

Izabelle and Kyle spent a lot of their childhood with the Fosters, and Kyle and Ava became inseparable. Some of the kids at school had started making fun of Kyle because of his old clothes and lack of school supplies, but Ava stood up to the bullies, taking Kyle under her wing and insisting her friends accept him.

They'd been best friends all throughout elementary school, and in middle school things between them changed. "Kyle started watching Ava with a look in his eyes that I knew meant he was falling for her," Izabelle had said. "When they were sixteen they were a couple, and I was sure nothing would ever break them up."

But they had broken up. Ava had fallen for another guy. Was that too much for Kyle and Ava to overcome? Did God want them to be together? I fell asleep pondering the answer.

***

"Are you avoiding me?"

Startled, I glanced up at Izabelle who'd taken the vacant seat across from me at Rachel's, our favorite coffee house.

"Of course," I answered cheekily. "I always avoid my very best friends. Offending them is the cherry on top."

"Sheesh, relax, weirdo. I was joking." Izabelle looked at me as if she thought I might have had too much coffee. "You should reconsider a second cup," she added, nodding at my large-sized coffee.

"You're funny."

"Hey, I talked to Kyle this morning and he mentioned that he had the best nurse in the entire city." Izabelle flashed a smile.

"Thanks. I was going to call you last night, but I went to visit Dad."

"I've been busy too. We still on for this weekend?"

"Absolutely. Girls night out, I can't wait."

Izabelle hugged me before she left, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was making a big deal out of nothing. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Izabelle found out I was harboring feelings for her brother, but it might put her in a difficult position since she was Ava's friend.

I made a quick stop at the office to turn in paperwork before heading out to see Kyle. It was early and I didn't run into anyone, which was good because I wasn't in the mood to hear Sandy talk about giving Kyle a bath.

I knew she wasn't serious, but I was still jealous. Groaning in frustration, I reached for my coffee and told myself to stop acting ridiculous.

I'd talked to my friend Sarah, from Bible study, about Kyle and Izabelle. She asked about my prayer life, and the question caught me off guard. I prayed but I wasn't sure what she meant by prayer life.

Apparently, she understood my confusion because she patiently explained, in a way that didn't make me feel inadequate, that I always needed to communicate with God even about the small stuff.

God had all of creation to watch over, I'd told her. I didn't want to bother him with insignificant details of my life when there were people who needed him far more than I did. The look on her face when I said that made me realize I was missing something that was crystal clear to Sarah.

"We all need God, Lucy. Trying to do life on your own is too risky," she'd said gently, and then she invited me to join her for Sunday morning service.

I never attended Sunday services. I told myself it was because I was too tired or had to catch up on housework, or I didn't want to go alone, but the truth was I wasn't ready. Church people were perfect, pious people who had mastered life. Most of the time I was a total mess, one coffee away from falling apart.

It had been years since I'd confessed to Kyle my fear of not fitting in at church. To my dismay, I realized I hadn't grown much in my walk with Christ since I still didn't attend regular services.

I was still pondering it half an hour later when I arrived at Kyle's house or Ava's house. I wasn't sure. He was sitting on the front porch with his laptop when I pulled up.

After our meeting yesterday, I wasn't sure what to expect from Kyle and I walked cautiously toward him, curious and excited about what would happen between us today. He lifted his dark head, smiled, and my heart grew wings.

"You came back." His deep leisurely drawl melted my heart.

He started to stand, but I shook my head and took a chair next to the patio sofa where he sat.

He was wearing a t-shirt, this one black with ARMY written on the front, and black sweats. His color was good and he seemed to be getting stronger, I noted making a point to keep my observations clinical.

"You didn't think I would?" My voice actually shook.

He closed the laptop, set it on the table to his left, and focused his attention on me. "I did. You've got mettle, and I am your patient."

"Right. You are my patient. I hope I didn't interrupt anything." I tipped my head at his computer.

"I'm taking some college courses online, but it's nothing that can't wait. I have a lot of time on my hands."

"That's great. I mean, not that you have a lot of time to kill, but taking college classes is productive. Anything interesting?"

"I'm finishing up some basic courses. Next semester I'll start classes in my major."

"What's that?"

"Mechanical Engineering."

"Wow. Impressive. I have trouble working the smart TV."

A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. "Entertainment has never been more complicated."

"Not for you, Mr. Mechanical Engineering," I teased with a playful punch to his bicep, which was rock hard.

"The army says I have a knack for making things work, and it's something I'm interested in. Do you want to go inside or can we do this here?" he asked, apparently ready to get down to business.

"Here is fine." I pulled his file out of my bag and clicked my pen. "How have you been feeling?"

"No complaints."

"Are you experiencing any pain?"

"Nothing unbearable."

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your level of pain?"

His dark brows drew together as he thought about it. "Two, maybe."

I glanced up and locked eyes with Kyle. "Hmm. A two," I repeated, thinking it was probably more like a six or seven. "Are you sure?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some patients, particularly men, tend to underestimate pain."

"That's a little sexist, don't you think?"

At first, I thought he was kidding, but after several tense moments and he hadn't broken a smile, I realized I'd offended him. "You're right. I should have said some people, not some men. Will you accept my apology?"

"I don't know," he drawled, leaning back like he was enjoying himself. "I'll have to think about it."

I flashed a smile, calling his bluff. "You've already told me you're not going to call my boss and complain."

"Yesterday was a different situation, Nurse Donovan. Sexism, well that's something I take seriously."

I looked up from my notes and stared at Kyle, whose expression was grim, and I stiffened. "I'm sorry. The comment was unprofessional."

His lips twitched. "Lucy, stop. I'm only messing with you."

I exhaled in relief. "Yeah, I knew that." Sort of. "Jerk," I whispered softly, smiling.

"What was that Nurse Donovan?" he prodded with a smile in his voice.

"I said hurt. Where does it hurt?"

"Sure you did."

"I'm serious. I am very meticulous with my adjectives."

"In that case, it hurts right here." He folded his fist over his heart. "See there's this incredible woman who is still trying to decide if she's going to give me a chance."

"You're flirting with me." I heard the amazement in my voice.

Our gazes collided. "Yes."

I felt edgy enough to jump right out of my skin. "You really think I need time to decide if I want to go out with you?"

"You ran off before dinner last night."

"What about Ava?" I whispered, flustered.

"I didn't invite her."

"You're living together, Kyle. That might be awkward."

He stared at me as if I'd grown another head. "Lucy, I live here. Alone."

"This isn't Ava's house?"

"No. It's mine."

Relief sank through me.

"You think I would ask you out while living with my ex-girlfriend?" He raked a hand through his hair, and I watched the muscles in his bicep bunch. "Maybe the reason you don't want to go out with me is that you think I'm the kind of guy who would do something like that."

I'd misjudged him. "I want to go out with you. I misunderstood. Izabelle said you and Ava were talking again."

His gaze was intent. "Is that why your emails changed?"

"Yes."

"I thought you'd lost interest or found someone else." Kyle let out short, humorless laugh.

"Neither of those." I shifted, feeling restless, and foolish. "I didn't want to interfere with your relationship."

Reaching out his knuckles lightly grazed my cheek and a small gasp escaped my lips. "I don't know what to do with you, Lucy, but I've been praying."

"What do you pray for?"

He leaned in, his gaze tangling with mine. "I'm leaving that up to God."