When she walked through the door her dad was waiting for her. A half-empty bottle of some kind of liquor was on the end table beside him. Before she could say a word he stood. “Do not tell me . . .” He charged toward her, his feet unsteady, eyes blazing. “Do not tell me, young lady, that you were at that . . . that Bible club today!”
His words slurred, and for the first time in Cami’s life she was sure her dad was going to hit her. She clung to her backpack and with her other hand reached for the doorknob. If she had to escape, at least she could.
“Don’t run away. You will not make a mockery out of me. You unnerstand?”
“Daddy . . . w-w-what’s wrong with you?” Her words were a shriek.
Her father rushed at her once more and this time he swung at her. Right at her face. Cami moved just in time and her dad’s fist went through the wall near the front door.
That was all she could take. Cami hurried back outside and began to run. Tears streamed down her face, but she kept running. As fast as she could. Away from her dad, away from his anger. His toxic view of life.
When she was three blocks from her house, when her sides were shaking and her lungs were gasping for air, Cami used her phone to call Jordy. “Please! I need your help.”
Jordy was there in minutes and he drove her back to his house. Together with his dad, they came up with a plan. Because she was eighteen, there was no need to call Child Protective Services.
Cami didn’t want to press charges against him, but still, the main concern was her immediate safety. One of the teachers, Michelle Smith, lived a few blocks away with her husband and two kids. They had a guest room and at times they took in Hamilton students who needed a place to stay.
Of course, if Cami had told any of them that her dad had nearly hit her, they would have gotten her help right away. But Cami didn’t want to make that part public. Not yet. For now, it was enough just to be away from her dad.
Cami was still crying when Mrs. Smith pulled up to take her home. Jordy hugged her. “Remember our talk . . .” He searched her eyes. “Before all this happened? Remember?”
It took Cami a moment, but then it clicked. The conversation they’d had more than once about college and staying close. “Y-y-yes.” Her teeth chattered. “You’re not . . . m-m-mad at me?”
“Mad?” Jordy pulled her close again and held her for a long time. When he leaned back, he looked deep into her eyes. “How could I be mad at you? None of this is your fault.”
Cami nodded. Gratitude filled her heart. Jordy was still on her side. Even still . . . “I’m so scared. My dad . . . he’s going to kill me. N-n-now that I left him.”
“No.” Jordy put his hands gently on her shoulders. His dad and Mrs. Smith were talking in the kitchen, so for this moment they were alone. “He’s not going to kill you. We are going to ask God for a miracle, and we are going to believe that will happen.”
A miracle. Yes, that was what she needed to pray for. Gradually Cami felt herself begin to relax. Jordy pulled her into another hug and they stayed that way for a long time. In his arms she stopped shaking. Her fears faded and she felt safe. Protected. He made her feel like a princess, like the most important girl in the world.
They stayed in the embrace until Mrs. Smith and Principal Quinn returned to the front of the house. Cami pulled herself back a bit and let her eyes find Jordy’s once more. “Thank you.”
“It’s going to be okay.” He looked like he wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t. Not here, not now. “Believe, Cami.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Let’s pray.” He didn’t blink, didn’t look away.
The smell of him filled her senses, a mix of his cologne and his shampoo, maybe. Cami tried not to think about it. She looked at her principal and Michelle. “Is it okay if we pray first?”
“Of course.” Principal Quinn smiled at Jordy. “God’s still in this story. Jordy’s right. We need to pray for a miracle.”
That’s just what they did. But as Cami rode with Mrs. Smith to her house, doubts pounded her. Cami remembered a terrible storm last spring where she’d been caught walking to the bus stop. Lightning and thunder had ripped through the sky and then it had begun to hail. Ice chunks the size of golf balls rained down on Indianapolis, and Cami could only hold her backpack over her head and pray she wouldn’t be killed by them.
When the bus finally arrived a few minutes later, Cami had welts on her arms and shoulders from the pounding hail.
That was how she felt now. Only instead of hail, she was being beaten down by doubts. What if her father found her? What if he didn’t let her get her clothes from her house? What if he came to Mrs. Smith’s house and killed them all? What if Principal Quinn went to jail for reading the Bible with them? And what if they stopped allowing the kids to pray?
By the time Cami entered her new bedroom and shut the door behind her, she could barely breathe for the doubts assailing her. That’s when she remembered her Bible. She took it from her backpack and found the marker in the middle. She had placed it in a section that had given her hope when she first read it.
Cami reviewed it again now. It was from Isaiah 41. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
The words brought physical comfort. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid, do not be afraid. Saying them was like a mighty shelter, protecting Cami from the doubts that flew at her from every side. Do not be afraid . . . do not be afraid.
And as Cami fell asleep she thought about Jordy, how wonderful she had felt in his arms. How deeply he cared for her. Then her mind drifted and she had the strangest feeling. A feeling that told her God was in control and she could fall asleep in His arms. Whatever might happen in the days ahead, He would go before her. He would protect her. She knew this for sure.
Because the feeling was complete and absolute peace.
13
Reagan felt the weariness in her shoulders. Luke had come home late again last night. Two nights this week already and it was only Thursday. The kids were at school and she had set aside the next hour to work on Luke’s party. Ashley had already confirmed that Landon was fine with hosting the party at their house.
But all Reagan wanted to do was drive down to Luke’s office and tell him the truth: Things were getting out of hand again. Luke meant nothing by it. He loved the kids and her. The problem wasn’t the job. It was his way of thinking.
Like he’d lose the important cases unless he worked around the clock.
She felt sure God wouldn’t want Luke to strive like that. If Luke would put his family first, God would make up the lost hours on his cases. Reagan sighed. Yes, a trip to the office wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Yet even as she toyed with the possibility, a different thought hit her.
The photo booth.
Brooke had brought the idea up a few days ago when Elaine, Brooke, Kari and Ashley got on the phone with her and dreamed a little. “What if we get one of those photo booths for the party? They send someone to run the machine and handle the photo strips. They bring silly hats and props.”
All of them had loved the idea, so Reagan had made a few phone calls.
Now it was settled. The photo booth could be delivered to Landon and Ashley’s house Sunday after church and they would position it just off the entryway. Reagan could hardly wait to share the news with the others. She got everyone onto a group call, and the conversation quickly shifted to the possibility of an ice cream sundae bar and what type of dinner food they should have.
At the end of the hour, when Reagan hung up, she felt happier than she had in days. And suddenly it hit her. The sad feeling about Luke’s excessive work was gone. And of course! This was just what she was supposed to do. Believe that changes in Luke would come from God, and stick to doing what she could do.
Love Luke with all her heart.
? ? ?
WENDELL HAD NEVER disobeyed authority in all his life.
Until now.