Chapter 62
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Kit’s house sits on a street where the trees still hold their ground against the houses.
Basketballs echo. Families pass on the sidewalk with their dogs and strollers.
Like a neighborhood you’d see on TV, but Colorado-flavored.
The Talbots are great. I twitch every time they insist we call them Chelsea and Archie, but it’s cool how they treat us like adults.
Kit’s brothers, Mav and Grey, are hilarious, and we’ve already adopted them as Junior Flooders.
They’d fit right in at Mayberry—true pranksters.
It’s nearly midnight now, and I’m still staring at the ceiling.
Levi is passed out next to me. I have this feeling that I should talk to Archie one-on-one, but I don’t know if it’s the Holy Spirit’s leading.
Or if he even does that for me anymore. Either way I might get brave here soon.
Archie said he’d love to chat if we ever want to bug him during his workday—just look for his office door open. Extremely cool of him.
The first day has been better than expected.
I try not to avoid Sophie unless she’s alone.
But that means I have to see her constantly—in the airport, down the hall, at breakfast. It’s like stepping into the ring with my hands tied behind my back.
Every minute near her lands sharp and deep, rattling something loose inside me.
I tell myself it’s all part of the healing process.
Inoculation, one day at a time. But catching her washing the dishes when no one was looking?
I didn’t need to see that. And curled up in an armchair, eyes closed, cradling her Bible? That one dropped me to the mat.
She hasn’t been wearing makeup, golden hair swept back and forgotten in a clip. She’s never needed the extra effort, but what does it mean? That she’s moving on? If only it helped. My mutinous heart won’t surrender. It claws for the helm, barking orders I refuse to follow.
I hate that she can see me like this—nothing like who I was. I hate that she knows. But I shouldn’t. This will force her to move on. And that’s good.
Outside this guest room is Kit’s basement living room, complete with a fantastic sectional sofa. When we got home from tubing this afternoon, I napped hard, but now I’m wired. And hungry. Finally giving up on sleep, I sneak upstairs to see if I can find a snack. A light is on in the office.
“Oh, hey, Mr. Talbot—ah—Archie.”
“Austin, hey. You’re still up?”
Out of nowhere, a verse surfaces. One Dad’s said a couple times. Listen to advice and accept discipline, and at the end you will be counted among the wise.
“Yeah, hey, I know now probably isn’t the right time,” I hedge, “but maybe while I’m here I can talk to you about something?”
He smiles like Kit. “Now’s a great time. Get your coat and hat and I’ll make a fire. You like s’mores? Hungry enough for a hot dog?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you. I could eat three if you can spare them.”
He laughs. “Absolutely. Meet you out there.”
It’s midnight, and I’m gonna hang out with my friend’s dad on the back deck.
Is this you?
Doubt nags. Haven’t I wrecked any chance of that?
Archie builds a fire like he’s done it a thousand times, and soon it’s roaring.
The heat pushes me out of my coat. I skewer all three hot dogs at once.
He hands me a bottle of hot sauce, and we shoot the breeze about Mayberry and basketball while my second dinner blisters perfectly.
I talk up Levi, not that he’ll need it, then drag the hot dogs into a bun.
The smell alone says I’m gonna sleep like a rock after this.
When Archie passes the tub of s’mores supplies, I wish I could mow his lawn for a year. This is a beautiful night.
“It seems like you’re going through it right now,” he says.
I let out a breath and twist the skewer. “Yes, sir. A … brutal breakup.”
He grimaces, like he’s reliving a painful memory.
“It’s Sophie.”
“The Sophie who’s—” He points upstairs.
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh. Ouch.”
Whatever he’s thinking, it’s worse.
Silence drifts in, and the fire simmers.
A few minutes later, he speaks up. “Mind if I tell you about my own brutal breakup?”
“Sure.” I guide two marshmallows to the glowing embers.
“Chelsea and I broke up for a year.”
I glance up. No way. Them?
“It was, without a doubt, the worst year of my life. We’d only been dating a few months, but I was out of my mind in love with her, acting like a crazy person. Even in that short time, we found maintaining our boundaries to be excruciatingly difficult.”
I almost drop the skewer. My heart races, like it instinctively knows something important is happening. But I kind of don’t want it.
If this is you, help me stay and hear it.
Archie settles into his patio chair, steady and unbothered, like this is the most normal topic in the world.
“What’s meant to be an antidote in marriage is poison too soon.
Part of our problem was that I wasn’t pulling my weight, but a good portion of it is what Chelsea started calling the Snowball Effect. ”
“The Snowball Effect?” I stack my double s’more—they have Reese’s instead of Hershey’s, a stroke of genius—and sink into it.
“A snowball at the top of a hill is inclined to roll down it. As it does, it collects more and more snow. It’s just physics. Same with kissing. Enough said?”
I finish my bite quick. “Yes, sir. But you got back together?”
“We did. We committed to keeping Jesus above our relationship always, God blessed our efforts, and I got to marry that woman.” He holds his hands out toward his home, still astounded after twenty some years. “All these blessings.” Archie is straight up dropping teardrops. “God be praised.”
What a man. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you combat the Snowball Effect the second time around?”
“We quit playing the game.”
“Sir?”
“When we talked over the fresh relationship we were creating after the year apart, we decided to quit kissing until we were engaged. Even that was tricky, but then we had a short and specific time to wait.”
And just like that, Kit and Levi’s no-kissing rule clicks.
“It’s uncanny,” I say. “The beginning is so much like me and Sophie.”
He hums softly. “Maybe that’s why God has us talking.” His gaze meets mine. “I know we just met—it’s up to you how much you want to share.”
I slap the back of my hand and suck it up. “I’ll try to keep it short.” Talking about her hurts bad, but somehow it helps too. I spit it all out, even the Graham weekend. CliffsNotes, but he gets it. I finish with my humiliating blob-like state.
“I’m really sorry you’re going through that.” He sits silent, heavy. I hope he’s praying. “How are you and Jesus in the middle of this?”
I hesitate. “Not great, sir.”
He watches.
“I haven’t really prayed in weeks.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m not sure.”
I guess you know?
“It’s like I don’t know how anymore.” I rub my aching eyes.
“It’s different now?”
“Well, of course.” I readjust. “I mean, it couldn’t be the same now.”
He bends forward.
“The way it was before … it’s not really in the cards anymore. With God, I mean.”
“How so?”
I hate this. I don’t wanna talk about it. But I also don’t want to leave Archie hanging, so I fumble for an explanation he’ll understand. “Do you manage anybody, sir? Like, employees?”
“I do, yes.”
“What would happen if one of them stole stuff and broke things? And then they didn’t show up to work for a month? What then?”
“I’d fire them.”
I give a slow nod. “I’m not saying I lose my salvation or anything. But I’m kind of … grandfathered in.”
“What if it was one of my kids?” he presses. “Ask me what would happen if Grey did those things.”
Something stabs my insides, but I risk a glance up. “What would happen?”
“He’d still be my son, and no less than before.”
I suppress a head shake.
“Grey’s learning about cars, and I love it when he changes the oil for me.
But it’s a bonus. A cherry on top. I just want him to be with me, love me back.
He could take my car out without asking and total it, and yeah, I’d be ticked.
There would be consequences. But I’d still want him here with me.
Do you see? It’s very dangerous to look at God like your employer, Austin.
It’s a completely different role—for him and for you.
Jesus taught us to pray ‘Our Father who is in heaven.’”
I’m silenced by emotion. The fire blurs. A long moment sits between us.
“God, you’re so good to us,” he prays. “We love you. Show this fine young man how you love him, how it is to be your son. Honor him with his own Chelsea to care for. Guide him into a beautiful life of simplicity. A life with you.”