Holding On To Heaven (Allendale Four 2)

“Noah was okay.” I fight to add some enthusiasm but it was hard—if not impossible.

“You don’t like him?” she asked and a light bulb went off in my brain. Maybe this was the universe intervening. I could tell my mom about Noah and she’d get it.

“Noah is—”

“Your father is so excited you two have linked up,” she gushed, interrupting. “This fundraising deal at the church is huge and could really solidify him back in good graces with the head pastor. Your dad is really good at reaching out to people in the community and your involvement in connecting him with the Hancocks has really helped. He already spoke to Mr. Hancock today. He was impressed by you and said his son is smitten.”

“Mom—” I tried to interj

ect.

“Things are so different this time. Everything is above board. The job, the house…us. He’s been really great to me, Heaven. So much more attentive and transparent about his work—his mission. I know he’s pleased with the strides you two have made as well.”

I swallowed over the lump forming in my throat. “So things are going well?”

Her excitement shifted to something else. Something hopeful. “Really well, Heaven. It’s like it was before the trouble—back when you were little and we were all happy.”

“Mom, that’s great, but you’ve got to remember…”

“I remember,” she snapped. “I remember working double shifts and coming home to find you spiraling out of control. I remember the medical bills and doing it all alone. Finding that garbage about you on the internet—learning how bad of a mother I’d been.”

“That’s not true. You’re a great mom,” I said, feeling the weight of the day crashing down. “I’m just scared he’ll hurt you again.”

“I need someone in my life, Heaven. I love your father and I’m willing to take a risk on him. I think you should, too.”

I nodded even though my mother couldn’t see me, but if I spoke I’d probably break down. My mom was right. I’d put her through hell and back and it was her time to be happy. She’d given me that when she backed off about the guys. I understood what needing support was like. I got it.

“I still haven’t told your dad about the boys and what they mean to you, but he isn’t wrong about finding a nice boy with a good family. One boy, Heaven. You needed them in school but you’ve grown so much since then. I think you’re ready to live a functional, normal, Christian life. Don’t you?”

I pushed the lie. “Yes.”

“Noah seems like the perfect way to start.”

I didn’t reply and she didn’t seem to care, heading into reminders about fall break coming up and my return home. It’d be the first time we’d spend as a family again and she couldn’t wait.

I hung up the phone when she finished and texted Noah.

Fall break.

What?

I’ll play this game until fall break. Your rules. But after that we come up with an amicable breakup and my father gets the funding.

There was a pause before he responded.

Ok. I can make that work. But you don’t get to play that game like you did today. You’re all in when we’re in public.

Ok.

I tossed the phone on the desk and got into bed.

Over the next few days I sunk into a familiar mode. Functional on the outside, crumbling on the inside.

Monday morning started with a text from Noah, informing me of where we’d meet that day and when, with an added note of clothing suggestions and how to wear my hair.

Oh and a little lipstick would be nice.

In biology, Anderson noticed the hair first, eyes lingering over the bouncy waves that took me an extra hour that morning. It was the typical, “long-hair-girl” style, one Amber and I often mocked for being the most safe and unoriginal by our peers.