Chapter 35
Aside from the hum of the furnace and Blaze’s pleased laugh, the conference room was silent. She set her laptop at the head of the table and sent a picture of the eight empty chairs to Anson.
What am I looking at? he asked.
I’m first to arrive for a meeting! I don’t think this has ever happened before.
Congrats. Lots of firsts for you today. I’m proud of you.
She read and reread that last sentence. There were only two firsts—this and tonight, when she’d share a pared-down version of her testimony with Rooted. Both would’ve been a struggle before the prescription.
With the medicine, distractions didn’t make her late as often. And she’d been able to focus while planning her Rooted talk with Anson.
Movement at the doorway prompted her to lower her phone. Tony spotted her, peeked at the empty chairs, and stepped in. “I saw the leaderboard. Selina sold five cars last week?”
Blaze’s chest expanded. “She’s a natural.”
He braced his hands on the back of a chair. “Actually, I ran into her in the break room just now. She says she had a good trainer.”
Blaze had been half-asleep on the wrong medication while training Selina, but she had dedicated large blocks of time to her new hire. The Lord must’ve been helping Blaze even before the medicine had. “Whatever caused it, it’s driving Thomas crazy.”
Tony scoffed. “A little competition will do him good.”
“Speaking of, I wanted to talk to you about reworking the monthly sales leader bonus to factor in some additional metrics. Some of the team cuts corners, like not accounting for bald tires on a trade-in. They still haven’t beaten Selina that way, but with some adjustments to the bonus, we could give them incentive to be more careful. ”
Selina tapped on the open door.
Tony motioned her in. “You always were a good idea person, Blaze. You’re on to something. Stop by my office after this, and we’ll work it out.”
She hadn’t been this proud of her work since she’d won the sales leader bonus four months in a row. “Will do.”
“Keep up the good work, ladies.” Tony ambled out.
Blaze typed herself a reminder to follow up with him.
By the time she finished, Thomas had arrived.
Moments later, the rest of the sales team took their seats, and she stood to start the meeting.
As she reviewed the first report, another first happened—she spoke with the calm confidence of someone who was thoroughly prepared.
She followed an agenda, had answers for each question, and a vision for her team. And she couldn’t stop smiling.
Anson’s strategy to “run into” Carter at the community center might not work.
He’d been fired almost three weeks ago. Most days since, he’d run drills on the center’s basketball courts, hoping the student would show up.
Still hadn’t. Nevertheless, Anson had nowhere else to be on a Wednesday night as Rooted met without him.
Last week’s youth group had bothered him less because Nolan had hosted and shared his testimony.
Tonight, Rooted normally wouldn’t meet since it was the night before Thanksgiving.
A fact Anson hadn’t mentioned when Blaze told him her plan to host the group and share part of her story.
Despite knowing what she planned to say, Anson longed to be there.
To support her. To watch the kids’ reactions.
Instead, he was on a basketball court, waiting on a student who might never come.
He dipped into lunges while dribbling. His body had borne the brunt of his unoccupied time since he’d been fired. The initial soreness had faded, and his muscles responded to the workout with ease.
As kids came and went on the other side of the court, he worked through single-person drills. His mind and heart weren’t in it—they were wrapped up in prayers for Blaze and the students.
He took his first shot at the basket and missed the backboard entirely.
Walk me through the valley, Lord.
Even as he prayed, he fought doubts that this might not be a temporary valley. This sense of being adrift might be permanent. His new normal.
On second thought, God, you might need to carry me.
He sighed, rebounded the ball, and returned to the mark he’d been shooting from. A form appeared in the nearest doorway. He took his shot. It bounced off the rim. On his way to rebound, he checked to see who’d stopped.
Sydney waved as she stepped into the gym. She wore slacks and a plain black top, probably about to leave for the day. “You’ve always been fun to watch on a court.”
He passed the ball from one hand to the other. “Thanks.” They hadn’t spoken in months, aside from conversations required for youth group. He hadn’t expected a compliment to end the silence between them. “I heard you and Ray are stepping up for Branching Out. I’m glad.”
She crossed her arms and nodded. “It seemed like the thing to do. I know your heart for the group and wanted the mission to continue, even if you couldn’t be the one to do it.”
“Careful.” He returned to the line and shot again. This time, the ball went through the hoop. “My mission got me fired.”
“Sometimes, that’s what we’re called to.”
The ball bounced against the hardwood beneath the net, but Anson made no move to go get it. “Getting fired?”
“Or crucified. Or stoned. Or imprisoned. Or boils.”
“Boils?”
“Like Job. If you think about it, you could’ve been given a much harder assignment.”
He laughed and ran after the ball as he followed the idea.
So many heroes of the faith had endured trials despite their obedience.
He knew that, yet only now applied it to losing his job.
Maybe he hadn’t misunderstood God’s leading.
And if he hadn’t misheard last time, he could listen again now with some hope of getting it right.
With the ball braced between his wrist and side, he rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye.
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Sydney smiled softly. “You’ll be all right.”
Maybe he would. He and Sydney had shared many talks like this one. Her take on difficult situations had steered him well the entire year they’d dated. “You’re wise. You know that?”
She chuckled. “You’re welcome to tell me. I don’t turn down compliments.”
“You said some good things the last time we talked too. I’m sorry I didn’t see the truth about us sooner. And for the pain I’m sure I caused you.”
She nodded slowly. “Me too.”
He turned toward the basket, resuming his drill.
“You can’t get by on your coaching wages forever. What’re you going to do?”
“Not sure yet.” He didn’t like his options, especially after watching Blaze’s face fall as he described them.
“I won’t have any basketball coaching positions until summer, but we’re looking for a facilities manager.” Her voice lifted. As the director of the community center, she filled a few positions every year.
“Is that a janitor?” After a job with so many interpersonal dynamics to navigate, spending time cleaning might prove cathartic.
“More like a handyman and equipment monitor.” She outlined a couple more details about the position, but another person arrived in the doorway behind her.
Dylan—with Carter in tow.
Joy swelled in Anson’s chest, and a grin overtook his face. Dylan waved at him. Carter glowered.
Sydney stepped aside to let them in.
“Hey, Sydney?”
She looked over her shoulder.
“Thank you. I don’t know about the job, but I appreciate the offer.”
She waved and walked away as the brothers stepped onto the court.
Between clarity from their conversation and his gratitude that the Lord had brought the Newsome brothers to see him, Anson could take on the world. Or at least Carter and Dylan. He lifted the ball. “Two on one? Winner buys burgers?”
“You mean loser?” Dylan half-danced, half-strutted onto the court.
“Nope. Winner. For the record, that’s going to be me.”
“We’ll see about that.” Carter clapped his hands, demanding the ball.
“Pride really does go before a fall.” Dylan’s voice echoed around the court. “But we’ll still let you buy us food anyway, right?” He smacked his brother with the back of his hand.
The basketball propped against his hip, Carter studied Anson. “You lost on purpose.”
Anson lifted his hands. Dylan had served as a handicap for Carter, but as soon as the game started, Anson had been distracted by an idea.
One he credited to God. After begging the Lord for direction, Anson couldn’t very well ignore Him—even if the prompt meant doing something he had avoided for years.
“You won fair and square,” he said. “But yeah, dinner’s on me.”
“We already ate.” Carter passed the ball from one hand to the other in a slow, steady rhythm.
Dylan stood on his toes. “We could eat more.”
“You drove here, Carter?”
The student nodded.
“Meet me at The Depot?” Only after the offer was out did he remember Eric’s dislike for the place. “Just check with your parents first, okay?”
“I’ll text Mom,” Dylan said. “She won’t mind.”
“Maybe I do.” Carter held the ball and looked between Anson and his brother.
“You promised.” Dylan grabbed Carter’s arm and pulled. “Come on.”
Promised what? He’d ask, but the community center was closing. Perhaps he could figure it out at the restaurant. He led them outside.
At The Depot, they took a booth in the dining area. Dylan gleefully ordered more food than any one person—even one who hadn’t already had dinner—could eat, but once the waiter walked away, he became as quiet as his sullen brother.
Anson considered diving right into his story about Gury, but something—the Lord, he hoped—prompted him to start with a question. “Did you come to the community center looking for me?”
Dylan shot a bright look at his brother, but Carter only scowled.
Dylan pressed his hands on the tabletop and leaned toward him until his chest hit his wrists.
“The fire inspector says someone lit candles in the sanctuary. They found what was left of them on the stage. They were supposed to be for Christmas Eve.” He leaned back, jostling the seat and Carter in the process.
Anson absorbed the information. That the candles had been taken from the closet by the youth room enforced his suspicion that their repeat visitor had started the fire.
When he’d stored the candles there, he’d checked for signs of whoever was sneaking in.
Instead of helping, it seemed he’d put tempting flammables directly in his or her path.
“Do they still think it was an accident?”
Dylan shrugged and nodded. “Do you think the person who did it will get in trouble? I mean, the candles were supposed to be burned in church, so it’s not like it was wrong to light them.”
They might as well be back on the court, playing two-on-one, only Anson couldn’t afford to lose this match. He needed to find out what the brothers knew.
Carter rolled his eyes. “You’re making him think you did it.”
“What? No!”
“Western burger.” A burger piled six inches tall with toppings landed in front of Dylan.
Dylan’s eyes darted to the waiter who’d dropped it off, but the guy didn’t miss a beat as he unloaded the rest of Dylan’s order, including fries, a milkshake, and fried cheese curds. Carter accepted the plate with his onion rings. Anson had ordered the same.
Once the waiter left, Anson said grace, then the boys started eating. His own appetite having evaporated, he studied the brothers. “What do you know about the fire?”
“Nothing,” Dylan blurted.
That elicited another eye roll from Carter. “Just what we told you.”
“How did you two learn about the investigation? It’s not wrapped up yet, is it?”
Dylan gulped down a bite of burger. “The leadership board keeps meeting at our house.”
“Those meetings are supposed to be confidential,” Anson said. Even without an ongoing fire investigation, the board covered sensitive topics—details about struggling members, conflicts within the body, and employment decisions.
“Yeah, but you should be included.” A glop of barbecue sauce and mayo slopped over Dylan’s pinkie and dropped to the table. “You shouldn’t have been fired.”
“Telling me what they’re saying isn’t going to change what happened.”
“My dad’s a bully. Nobody stands up to him but you.”
Dylan’s declaration drew a sigh from Carter, who rested his elbow on the table, his cheek against a loose fist.
“Who has he been bullying?”
Dylan lowered his gaze to the mountain range of food in front of him.
Carter studied his brother, the corner of his mouth tight.
These two had a secret, but as clearly as Anson had once felt the Lord directing him to give up his basketball scholarship, he knew it wasn’t the boys’ turn to talk. It was his.
“Did you guys know I used to have a brother?”