It had been far too long since he’d made the trip to Bloomington. But this week God had seemed to make it very clear. He needed family time. Now. And so Luke and Reagan had driven their kids an hour west to Bloomington to hang out with their cousins at Ashley and Landon’s house.
The Baxter house—the place where Luke and his siblings had been raised. Ashley and Landon owned the place now, and they hosted get-togethers here as often as they could. The kids loved playing kickball out front or running through the backyard and splashing in the creek and pond that made up part of the ten-acre property.
Today it was a game of Ultimate Frisbee, and Luke was right in the thick of the action. Only Ashley, Kari and the youngest kids weren’t playing. Otherwise everyone was caught up in the game. His dad and Elaine were sipping iced tea from the porch, watching the action. Taking in every moment.
The next hour flew by as each team won a game, and in the final minutes, Dayne’s group took the last match. Exhausted, both teams dragged themselves to the front porch for water bottles. When he could breathe normally again, Luke raised his water to the sky. “I call rematch. Next time we’re together.”
Ryan laughed. He had been on Dayne’s team today. “You’re on.”
Everyone headed inside, where John and Elaine had joined Ashley and Kari in making dinner. The whole house smelled like pulled pork and baked sweet potatoes. Luke approached his dad and put his arm around his shoulders. “I’m telling you, Dad. You and Elaine could open your own restaurant.”
“From doctor to manager of a restaurant.” His dad chuckled. “I think I’ll stick to days like this.”
“Good idea.” Ashley grinned at Luke. She was working on a salad across the counter. “Otherwise they’d be too busy to cook for us.”
Elaine held up a plate of fresh sliced red peppers. “The secret is the local vegetables. Anyone can make a good dinner with the food we get at the farmers’ market.”
Half an hour later everyone was seated around two large tables in the dining room. Ashley and Landon used the old wooden table the Baxters had eaten at when they were growing up, and on days when the extended family was together, they brought in a second one.
So they could all be together. The way they loved best.
Luke’s dad led the prayer, and once the meal was under way, they went around the room and talked about what was new, how God had been working in their lives or how they needed prayer. Dayne and Katy and their kids were well. “We still haven’t found the story we want to develop for our investor. But we’re thinking it’ll be about religious freedom.”
Luke used his napkin and set it back on his lap. “I have a dozen cases I could tell you about.” He hesitated, thinking about his workload. “Nothing really sensational, though. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“Thanks.” Dayne looked pensive. “It’s so troubling. How commonplace attacks on religious freedom have become.”
Luke remembered the case that had dominated the media the past few days. “You heard about the principal in Indianapolis? The one being sued because of his after-school program?” He shook his head. “Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance, from what I can tell. He’ll lose his job and the program . . . and unless I’m missing something, he’ll lose the lawsuit.” Luke looked around. “That’s just the way things are now.”
Everyone agreed.
Next Brooke and Peter talked about a new program they were developing at their medical clinic. “It’ll be in conjunction with the initiative put out by the city of Bloomington earlier this year. Training people about the connection between physical fitness and mental health.” Brooke looked excited about the new opportunity. “It’s always something.”
Peter nodded, and Dayne looked around the table. “I forgot to ask . . . while we look for the right movie, if you all could pray about the one we’re working on. It’s a love story.”
“Yes, it’s beautiful.” Katy nodded. “Centered around the Oklahoma City bombing.” She looked around. “Remember that? Like twenty-some years ago?”
The others nodded. Luke was young, but he remembered the tragedy. “A hundred people were killed, right?”
“Actually 168 people.” Dayne paused to let that sink in. “It’s called To the Moon and Back.”
“To the Moon and Back?” Kari took a sip of water and turned to Katy. “Like the bedtime story?”
“Yes.” Katy’s eyes filled with emotion. “The main couple . . . both their mothers used to say that to them. But now it’s more like the story of their lives. They’ve been to the moon and back and still not found peace.”
“Wow.” Luke caught the vision for the film. “Sounds amazing.”
“It’ll be powerful.” Dayne took a deep breath. “Difficult, but powerful. A story of true healing and redemption.”
The conversation shifted to Ryan and Kari and the football season under way at Clear Creek High. “Those Flanigan boys score half the touchdowns.” Ryan laughed. “No one can keep up with them.”
During a lull, Luke looked at his niece Maddie. “Speaking of the Flanigans, how are things with Connor?” The oldest Flanigan boy was a sophomore at Liberty University this year.
Maddie’s cheeks turned pink. She looked down at her plate and then up at the others. “We’re struggling a little. Still friends, though.” She smiled at Brooke. “Mom and I were talking about him on our way here.” Maddie looked at Luke again. “He wants to talk to you about the cases you’ve been taking. He’s really thinking about going into film. But he’s not sure. Sometimes he thinks he might be a lawyer.”
Hayley, Maddie’s younger sister, motioned with her fork toward the others. “And yes, if you want to know, they are no longer officially boyfriend and girlfriend.” She raised her eyebrows. “But if you ask me, they’ll get married one day.”
No one was more loving and kind than Hayley, even when it came to a teasing moment like this.
“Thank you, Hayley . . .” Maddie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You never know. We’ll see.”
The meal was nearly over when Luke felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He took it out and read the message. It was his answering service. Apparently an urgent call had come in the day before. For some reason, the message was only getting to him now. Luke excused himself and headed out the front door onto the porch to listen.
“Mr. Baxter, you don’t know me. My name’s Wendell Quinn. I’m the principal at Hamilton High School on the west side of Indianapolis.” The man paused. “Mr. Baxter, I’m in a great deal of trouble. I run a voluntary Bible study here at the school, and now I’m being sued.”
Luke felt his heart sink. There was nothing he could do for the man. He had read enough about the case to know that.
“The truth is . . .” The man sounded desperate. “I need your help, and I wondered if you’d give me a call. I was on my knees earlier and God reminded me of your name. I’m not saying that to coerce you, but . . . there’s no one I’d rather have on my side than you.”
Wendell rattled off his phone number twice—just so Luke wouldn’t miss it. “I’ll be praying for your call. I’m not afraid, Mr. Baxter. But I definitely need some help here. Please call me back at your soonest convenience.”
For a long moment after the message ended, Luke stared out at the front yard where he’d grown up. Who would have ever imagined such a thing? A principal helps bring a school back from the brink of destruction, and now he’s sued? All because the solution involved God?
Luke went back inside the house and found the adults around one of the tables, drinking coffee and still talking. Luke tried to smile. “Where’d the kids go?”
Reagan laughed. “Every direction.” She explained that the younger boys had gone out back to explore the pond, while the older kids had gone upstairs to watch the last half of the Indiana versus Michigan football game. The little girls were coloring in the craft room.
The heaviness in Luke’s heart made its way to the surface. “I just got a message from the principal we were talking about, the one being sued for holding the after-school Bible club.”