Martha didn’t seem happy about that turn of events, and David didn’t blame her.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Just a few weeks. Until that point, she was constantly over at Monica’s. Then, suddenly, she’s not returning Monica’s calls and she’s spending a lot of time in Phoenix with Whitney, either at the mall or at the movies.”
Or in the desert while her mother thought she was at places where it would be hard to track her down. David wasn’t sure of that, though, and absolutely did not want to alarm Martha—or lose any of the trust he might be gaining with the young people in his church—by making a big deal out of something that might be nothing more than…than perhaps a school biology-project trip. Martha had enough real things to worry about. And David didn’t want to establish the reputation of being a tattletale or instigating mistrust between teenagers and their parents.
He’d have a talk with Shelley. Then, if his suspicions proved to have some basis in fact, he would go straight to her mother.
“Anyway,” Martha said, shifting her weight without changing her rigid position, “when she told me about Monica’s invitation, I encouraged her to go. I know Monica and her parents very well. And those girls have always been so good for each other.”
Even from his distant vantage point, David had seen that. When he’d first come to town and met with the parish youth, he’d found Shelley and Monica almost comical in the way they’d completed each other’s sentences. And irritating in their constant whispering, as though plotting his demise. Or, more likely, the demise of some young, unsuspecting stud at Shelter Valley High School.
“So what did you think of the sermon this morning?” They still had thirty miles to go. And he was determined to avoid the forays into the past that this trip was trying to foist upon him.
“I think you’re the strangest preacher I’ve ever met.”
David grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Glancing over at her, he was struck by the feeling that enveloped him and then was gone—as though he’d just had a perfect moment.
She was pretty enough, with that short sassy hair and her dark expressive eyes, but she was wearing, as always, a pair of unremarkable slacks and a button-down blouse. Nothing to write home about. Or have a perfect moment over, either.
So it must just be that he enjoyed her company. One sharp mind pitted against another. He could settle for that.
“Can I ask you something?” She’d been staring out the window, but turned to look at him.
“Of course.” He’d been waiting for a moment like this. A time without interruptions to discuss with her the things he’d learned that would make her life if not easier, certainly more bearable.
“I understand and can respect your decision to focus your life on your job. It seems more and more people are doing that these days, sometimes at the cost of a family. But from what I’ve seen, a guy only chooses to do that if he’s been burned…”
David’s fists clenched around the steering wheel as she paused. He said nothing.
“So have you?”
“What?” He knew what she was asking.
“Been burned.”
He couldn’t lie to her. “Isn’t that all part of the human experience?” The question was a cheap shot. And the only one he had. Get her to engage in a spiritual discussion, though, and he’d be safe.
“So you’ve been in love?”
He could tell her he loved everyone. Or tried to.
“No.”
“You haven’t?” He could feel her gaze, feel her curiosity. And her surprise.
Focusing on the billboards advertising an upcoming mall, the motels and restaurants at the next exit and then on the speed limit sign, David shook his head. He wasn’t the only thirty-eight-year-old man unvisited by cupid. Truth be told, he thought those who had been were in the minority. Romantic love was a fantasy perpetuated by fairy tales and romance novels. And women.
“Never?”
“Maybe. Once.” He couldn’t believe he’d said it. Hadn’t he just reminded himself that romantic love wasn’t real?
“Who was she?” Martha’s voice was more compassionate than curious.
“No one, really,” he told her with a quick glance in her direction. “Just a girl I knew in high school. I was only fifteen.”
What was it about this woman that threatened all the carefully held beliefs he’d developed over the years? How could she, in just a few short months, with a few innocuous questions, get from him something he didn’t even admit to himself?