with God, probably even swim in the ocean. But, for him, it was too hard to imagine.
Raine fixed her eyes on him. “You disagree.” She tilted her head to one side. “So, tell me what you were thinking when you painted the picture.”
“We’re oppressed, and our only hope is to make a break for it.”
“Oppressed by what?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He stood and shoved the chair under the table. He wasn’t having this conversation.
“Where did you get such a bleak take on life?”
“Not everyone swallows the home-school -PC version of life. Look, I’m out of here. Enjoy the painting. Make it mean whatever you want.”
He turned and walked out. Part of him wanted to believe Raine. Part of him wanted to yank his foot out of the shadow, run into the ocean, and never look back.
#
Drew finished his stretches under the light of the moon. He looked around one last time for Jesse. Something must have come up. He had a lot on his mind. It was probably better for him to run alone tonight anyway.
He replayed Monday night’s argument with Rainey. Wow! Was he going to have to quit calling her Rainey? She knifed him on that one. He understood her protectiveness of Eddie, but it hurt when she came out snapping like a crawfish.
He ran hard, pounding out his frustration against the sand. At the jetty, he slowed his pace.
This shouldn’t be about him and his hurt. This was about Rainey. Eddie was tearing her up inside. Anyone who’d watched her at Lost Lagoon would have seen it. Lord, rescue Rainey from the co-dependent mess she has going with Eddie. Get that kid help. Throw his butt in rehab, jail, something. Pry him off Rainey’s back.
He ran back down the beach at half speed, thinking about Rainey’s plan to teach in Africa. She’d lifted her chin just a little when she told him that first night at orientation—like she dared him to challenge her. There had been steel in her voice. Was she trying to escape Eddie? At least she was committed to doing something for God. What about him?
He was twenty-five and still lived in the apartment over his folks’ garage. He doubted that was God’s grand plan for his life. But he never thought about it till Kurt left. He didn’t do separation from family—especially Kurt—well. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate little brother tag along if he followed Kurt to Japan. He couldn’t even choke down sushi.
He slipped into a jog thinking about the Africa Cries kids he hooked up with last winter when they were in town for concerts. He’d been captivated by the lanky, black-skinned boys, the girls with nubby hair as short as the boys’, the joy radiating from their faces when they told their harrowing stories.
He had the skill set to be a good music director. He already loved those kids. He tried to shake off the thought. But the smiles of the children had been stuck in his head for months, their singing voices, like phantoms he couldn’t bat away. He stopped, bent over with his hands on his knees. Okay. I’ll ask You what You want me to do. But would You take Your time answering this one?
He stood and wiped his face on the neck of his T-shirt. It wasn’t like this was the only big-ticket item on his plate. Jesse had shoved marriage front and center—getting Kallie and Jillian to pray for a wife for him. He smiled. That was underhanded, recruiting a three-year-old. God had a soft spot for kids.
Would he ever love and be loved? Yeah, he wanted that, a relentless tide of realization was coming in. He was going to have to settle things with Sam. He looked down the beach illumined by the full moon. Another sprint down to the jetty and back sounded good.
#
Raine walked along the asphalt road beside Missy. She rubbed her arms. The wind coming off the Atlantic was cool tonight. Maybe it would rain. Corrie , Missy’s co-counselor walked ahead with their campers strung between them.
“Do you think my brother is hot?” Missy looked over at Raine, her chestnut
Raine fixed her eyes on him. “You disagree.” She tilted her head to one side. “So, tell me what you were thinking when you painted the picture.”
“We’re oppressed, and our only hope is to make a break for it.”
“Oppressed by what?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He stood and shoved the chair under the table. He wasn’t having this conversation.
“Where did you get such a bleak take on life?”
“Not everyone swallows the home-school -PC version of life. Look, I’m out of here. Enjoy the painting. Make it mean whatever you want.”
He turned and walked out. Part of him wanted to believe Raine. Part of him wanted to yank his foot out of the shadow, run into the ocean, and never look back.
#
Drew finished his stretches under the light of the moon. He looked around one last time for Jesse. Something must have come up. He had a lot on his mind. It was probably better for him to run alone tonight anyway.
He replayed Monday night’s argument with Rainey. Wow! Was he going to have to quit calling her Rainey? She knifed him on that one. He understood her protectiveness of Eddie, but it hurt when she came out snapping like a crawfish.
He ran hard, pounding out his frustration against the sand. At the jetty, he slowed his pace.
This shouldn’t be about him and his hurt. This was about Rainey. Eddie was tearing her up inside. Anyone who’d watched her at Lost Lagoon would have seen it. Lord, rescue Rainey from the co-dependent mess she has going with Eddie. Get that kid help. Throw his butt in rehab, jail, something. Pry him off Rainey’s back.
He ran back down the beach at half speed, thinking about Rainey’s plan to teach in Africa. She’d lifted her chin just a little when she told him that first night at orientation—like she dared him to challenge her. There had been steel in her voice. Was she trying to escape Eddie? At least she was committed to doing something for God. What about him?
He was twenty-five and still lived in the apartment over his folks’ garage. He doubted that was God’s grand plan for his life. But he never thought about it till Kurt left. He didn’t do separation from family—especially Kurt—well. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate little brother tag along if he followed Kurt to Japan. He couldn’t even choke down sushi.
He slipped into a jog thinking about the Africa Cries kids he hooked up with last winter when they were in town for concerts. He’d been captivated by the lanky, black-skinned boys, the girls with nubby hair as short as the boys’, the joy radiating from their faces when they told their harrowing stories.
He had the skill set to be a good music director. He already loved those kids. He tried to shake off the thought. But the smiles of the children had been stuck in his head for months, their singing voices, like phantoms he couldn’t bat away. He stopped, bent over with his hands on his knees. Okay. I’ll ask You what You want me to do. But would You take Your time answering this one?
He stood and wiped his face on the neck of his T-shirt. It wasn’t like this was the only big-ticket item on his plate. Jesse had shoved marriage front and center—getting Kallie and Jillian to pray for a wife for him. He smiled. That was underhanded, recruiting a three-year-old. God had a soft spot for kids.
Would he ever love and be loved? Yeah, he wanted that, a relentless tide of realization was coming in. He was going to have to settle things with Sam. He looked down the beach illumined by the full moon. Another sprint down to the jetty and back sounded good.
#
Raine walked along the asphalt road beside Missy. She rubbed her arms. The wind coming off the Atlantic was cool tonight. Maybe it would rain. Corrie , Missy’s co-counselor walked ahead with their campers strung between them.
“Do you think my brother is hot?” Missy looked over at Raine, her chestnut
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