Chapter 8
Blaze caught a glimpse of her sister in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry Amelia didn’t come around, but we’re going to have fun tonight.”
“None of my friends are coming.” With her head turned toward her window, only a thick shock of dark hair and the rim of her glasses were visible.
“If it makes you feel any better, I won’t know many people either.”
“Yeah, but you’re a grown-up.”
“I still feel more comfortable when I have friends, especially when I start something new.” She’d come to Christ as an adult, and something told her that youth group would be different than the Bible studies she’d attended.
Considering her inexperience, it was no wonder Anson had hesitated to let her join the team.
“Can I bring my book in?” Mercy had never cared much for reading, but she was ahead of the assigned chapters in A Wrinkle in Time. “Ms. Johanssen says books can keep us company when we’re bored or alone. She says reading is really good for us.”
“I’m sure it is, but you won’t be bored tonight. Or alone.” Chuckling, Blaze turned into the church parking lot. “You know what we’re supposed to do during hard times?”
“Pray.” Mercy’s voice held a store of skepticism.
Blaze didn’t bother trying to coax more enthusiasm as she watched for kids and a parking spot. “Lord, I pray you’d connect us with the right people so we can all show each other a little glimpse of your love.” She navigated into a spot and parked. “Thank you for the gift of community. Amen.”
The church glowed in the late-day sun. Children ran for the main doors, adults trailing behind. Beside the building, Anson was hanging a volleyball net. A circle of chairs and a snack table waited nearby.
Blaze grabbed her purse and a bag filled with snacks. “If nothing else, we have the best peanut butter cookies this side of the Mississippi. We’re bound to make friends.”
Mercy slinked from the backseat.
Blaze stopped at the table. Bottles of soda and juice and bags of potato chips weighed down a vinyl tablecloth. “Do you want me to open any of this?” she asked.
Anson turned from the net, one hand holding it in place. “We’ll play the game first, so better keep it covered for now.”
She added her bag of treats—the cookies she and Mercy had made, plus pretzels and gummy bears—to the collection. With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and gave Mercy a peppy smile. “Let’s go make some friends.”
Mercy trudged inside. Laughing and raised voices spilled from the youth room and into the hallway. Mercy, one step ahead, passed the threshold first. An inflatable ball drilled her in the ear. She squawked and shielded her head as the ball bounced away.
“Sorry.” The boy didn’t even look at Mercy as he retrieved the ball.
When he launched it again, Nolan intercepted it. “Let’s save it for outside.” He nodded to Blaze, clamped the ball between both hands, and returned his attention to the two kids he was talking with.
About ten students laughed, played, and chatted. Mercy bit her bottom lip and her eyes darted around the space.
Blaze rested a hand on her shoulder. “We’re meeting here quick, then we’ll all go outside and play some games.
Let’s find a seat for a few minutes.” She guided her through the fray to a couch, only then noticing a blond girl with flushed cheeks.
She picked her nails as her eyes mimicked Mercy’s half-panicked, half-envious scan of the room.
Compassion and hope welled up, and Blaze nudged Mercy toward the girl. “Let’s sit over there.”
Mercy plodded over and plopped onto the far side of the couch.
Blaze took the seat between the girls and angled toward the blond. “I’m Blaze, and this is my sister Mercy. What’s your name?”
She swallowed. “Hadley.”
“Are you here with anyone?”
She shook her head. “My mom wanted to go to an exercise class but didn’t want to leave me home alone. But I’m twelve. I would’ve been okay.”
Blaze put together the age, name, and the apparently single mom to place Hadley. “Is your mom Ashley West?”
Hadley nodded, her ponytail bouncing. “You know her?”
“Sure. She was ahead of me in high school. She was nice.” Ashley had started off popular, but when word of her pregnancy broke, she’d been ostracized. She and Blaze hadn’t exactly become friends, but they’d had each other’s backs a few times.
It would be Blaze’s pleasure to look out for Ashley’s daughter.
In fact, this was an answer to the prayer she’d offered in the car.
God didn’t usually move in her life in such obvious ways.
Her request must’ve lined up with what He wanted for once.
Perhaps Blaze was learning. She sat up straighter.
“What do you like to do for fun, Hadley?”
Blaze looked so amazed she’d caught the ball that Anson didn’t have the heart to tell her she’d stepped out of bounds. The kids weren’t so merciful. Even her own teammates cried, “You’re out!”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open, and she looked down at her feet. Her shoulders slouched, but she surrendered the ball to another player.
On the sideline, she fell into conversation with Hadley, one of the new students. By the looks of their hand motions, they were talking strategy, even though they’d only have a few more minutes to use it since parents were due any moment.
The first minivan pulled up. A woman got out and waved at her son. Anson headed over to her to give his spiel about the canoe trip.
When he returned courtside with a signed permission slip, Hadley was jabbering while Blaze’s face remained the picture of patience. Impressive.
Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the parents came. As he gave his canoe pitch one last time, Blaze packed up the snacks. He collected the last slip, then jogged back and snatched a peanut butter cookie as she dropped the lid on the container.
She pulled back with surprise. “Big fan?”
He swallowed his bite and held up the remaining half of the cookie. “Yeah. Whoever made these outdid themselves.”
“We did.” Mercy appeared at her side with a hand raised proudly.
Blaze chuckled and set the lid aside. “You can take them. We left a few at home.”
“You said you liked baking. I didn’t know you were a master chef.”
Her hands fluttered until she clasped them together.
Had the compliment been too much?
A sweet smile lifted her lips. “I’m a master internet searcher. After that, all I do is follow the recipe.” She clipped the last bag of chips shut and stashed it in a bulging grocery bag. “Where do you want this?”
Mercy snuck a cookie and slipped away.
Anson decided not to out her. “In the youth room. The kids can eat it on Sunday.”
“Okay.” Blaze scanned the lawn. “Need anything else from me?”
Besides the snack table, which he and Nolan would carry in, the only thing left out was the net. Nolan had that under control, so Anson passed her a permission slip and pen. “Just your signature. I know you’ll be along, but we still need one for Mercy.”
After Blaze signed, he helped Nolan with the net, and the sisters left. Only the container of cookies remained on the table. Anson set them aside, and he and Nolan took opposite ends of the table to carry it in.
“Fourteen kids were here.” Nolan paused as he turned the table to navigate a doorway. “Close to that goal of doubling already.”
“There’s always more the first night.” The trick would be getting the kids to come back with friends.
He hoped his devotional about the first disciples telling others about Jesus would inspire the kids.
They’d also used small group time to pray for friends who might need the hope and community youth group offered.
All that, and the part that had made the kids light up? His promise of a Rooted hoodie for anyone who brought a friend. Then again, could he blame the kids for valuing the wrong things when the leadership board was doing the same?
With the table back in place, Nolan dusted his hands. “Numbers aren’t everything.”
They certainly weren’t supposed to be.