Chapter 4 #2
He’d lived a life without her. Just as she had. All those years ago, she would not have thought it possible that she would have to hear about his life instead of being in it. That she would no longer know him seemed an impossibility back then. Until he proved how wrong she’d been.
She was still as angry and hurt as she’d always been. Surely there was a statute of limitations on a broken heart? For heaven’s sake, she was a grown-up woman, not some lovesick teenager.
“Dinner’s ready,” Grace called out from the dining room.
They headed that direction. Her heart sank when she realized there were name cards at each place setting and she was next to Roan.
She told herself to be a grown up and just sit.
So she did, smoothing her napkin in her lap and studying the beautiful spread.
Pot roast, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, fresh rolls.
“Before we eat, may I say grace?” Pastor David asked.
“Yes, please,” Walter said.
They bowed their heads, and Reese found herself peeking through her lashes at Roan. His head was bowed, hands folded. He had a scar on his right hand that hadn’t been there fifteen years ago. She couldn’t help but be curious about how he got it.
“Amen,” Pastor David finished.
“Amen,” they echoed.
“All right, let’s eat,” Walter said, starting to pass dishes. “Don’t be shy. There’s plenty.”
For several minutes, they focused on filling plates and making small talk before digging in. The food was delicious, and Reese relaxed somewhat despite Roan’s presence next to her. She could practically feel heat radiating from his body. Surely just her imagination?
“Okay, well, now that we have food, let me tell you why I’ve asked you here,” Grace said.
“It’s not to solve a mystery,” Walter said, chuckling.
“Darn, I thought we were going to find a dead body at any moment,” Roan said.
Reese giggled.
Roan turned his head, catching her gaze for a moment, looking pleased that she’d laughed at his joke.
She quickly sobered, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“Yes, well, you’ll have to throw that kind of party at your own place,” Grace said, laughing. “In all seriousness, Walter and I have been talking about something for a while now, and recent events have convinced us it’s time to act.”
Walter set down his fork. “We want to start a program for at-risk youth here in Sugarville Grove. Something to help kids who are falling through the cracks.”
“What kind of program?” Mrs. Chen asked, leaning forward with obvious interest.
“Mentorship, primarily,” Grace said. “Practical support, activities, community connection. We’ve been researching similar programs in other towns, talking to social services. There are kids right here in our community who need help, and we think we can provide it.”
“This is something we should have done years ago,” Walter added. “Grace has been volunteering with foster families through the church. The stories we’ve heard are heartbreaking.”
“I see it every day at school,” Mrs. Chen said. “I have students I worry about constantly. Kids dealing with trauma, poverty, family dysfunction. I do what I can, but there’s only so much I can do within the confines of the school system.”
“Exactly,” Grace said. “We’re thinking something informal to start. A pilot program this winter. Maybe four or five kids who could benefit from mentorship and support.”
“What would it look like, practically?” Pastor David asked.
“We’re calling it The Bridge Program,” Walter said. “The idea is to bridge the gap between where these kids are and where they could be.” He went on to paint a picture of what they imagined—weekly dinners, mentorship pairs, activities, resource connections.
“The church can provide meeting space if needed,” Pastor David said. “And I can help with resource connections—food bank, clothing closet, counseling referrals.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Grace said warmly.
“I can identify students who need help.” Mrs. Chen leaned over her plate, her eyes alight. “I have several in mind already. I’m happy to be the liaison with the school, handling permissions and privacy issues.”
“Exactly what we need,” Walter said. “Which is why we hoped you’d like to join us.”
Kris stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I like this. I like it a lot. You’ll need community support, though. Fundraisers. Maybe partnering with some local businesses.”
“Which is where you come in,” Grace said with a smile. “Kris, you know everyone in this town. If you endorse this program, people will listen.”
“Plus you’re Santa,” Roan said. “Kids trust Santa.”
“Fair point,” Kris chuckled. “All right, I’m in. I can help with community outreach, maybe organize some fundraising.”
“Thank you,” Grace said. “Can I count on you to help me plan a fundraising gala?”
“Of course you can. I’m thinking Mia would be willing to host it at her new restaurant,” Kris said.
“Excellent idea,” Grace said.
“What about activities?” Mrs. Chen asked. “That’s where a lot of programs fall short. Kids need something to do, somewhere to belong.”
Grace turned to look at Reese, and suddenly she understood why she was here.
“Reese, we were hoping you might offer some dance classes. Movement as an outlet, a way to express emotion safely. Especially for kids who might not respond to traditional talk therapy.”
All eyes turned to her. She felt her cheeks warm.
“I—sure,” she said. “I’d be happy to. I have studio space available several afternoons a week.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Chen said. “I have a student in mind who I think would really benefit from dance.”
“And Roan,” Walter said, “we were hoping you’d do the same with the gym. Physical training, teaching discipline and self-respect through fitness.”
Roan nodded slowly. “Yeah. I can do that.”
Reese’s stomach tightened. Did this mean she would have to work side by side with Roan?
She glanced at Grace, who was looking remarkably innocent.
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Grace said. “We start with four kids. Mrs. Chen, you mentioned you had some in mind?”
“I do.” Mrs. Chen pulled out her own notes. “I’d want to talk to them individually first, make sure they’re interested.”
“Tell us about them,” Pastor David said.
Mrs. Chen took a breath. “Well, there’s Cody Mercer. Sixteen, in foster care after his mother died and his father couldn’t handle it. He’s angry, acting out, but, underneath it, he’s just grieving.”
Roan went very still. Reese noticed his knuckles whiten slightly on his fork.
“Emma Pritchard,” Mrs. Chen continued. “Fifteen, parents are going through a nasty divorce. She was once a straight-A student, but her grades have declined. I’m worried about her mental health.”
Reese’s heart clenched. She knew the pressure to be perfect while everything crumbled.
“Marcus Jenkins,” Mrs. Chen said quietly.
“Fourteen, mother has an opioid addiction. I’m not supposed to know this but she disappeared a few months back.
He’s essentially homeless, couch-surfing with friends.
Sweetest kid you’ll ever meet. He never complains or causes problems, but I don’t think he’s getting enough to eat.
And I don’t know how much longer I can keep him out of the foster care system. ”
“Oh my,” Grace whispered, pressing a hand to her chest.
“And Julia Smith. Seventeen. Five months pregnant. Parents kicked her out. She’s living with her grandmother who has limited income. Smart girl, with plans for college, but that’s all out the window now.”
“What about the father?” Pastor David asked.
“She won’t say who it is, other than he doesn’t live here,” Mrs. Chen said.
The table was silent for a moment.
“I think starting small is a good idea,” Pastor David agreed.
“And we’ll need mentors,” Walter said, looking around the table. “Grace and I will both be involved, obviously. Pastor David, I imagine you’ll provide support as needed?”
“Of course. That’s what I’m called to do,” Pastor David said.
“I can help with activities, transportation, logistics,” Kris said. “Whatever’s needed. My wife can help us too.”
“That’s perfect,” Grace said. Then she looked at Reese and Roan. “I’m hoping you’ll both be willing to mentor these kids. Especially Cody. He needs both of you.”
Reese’s head snapped up. “Both of us?”
“He needs a male figure, obviously,” Grace said. “Someone who understands that kind of loss. But he also needs to learn discipline and emotional regulation. That’s where you’d come in, Reese. Between the two of you, you could provide different perspectives.”
Roan was looking at her now. She could feel his gaze, even though she was staring at her plate.
“What do you think?” Walter asked.
What did she think? Was Grace trying to put them together? Hoping to spark a long snuffed-out flame? Regardless, this was a kid who needed help. If she could be a part of it, she would.
Reese nodded. “If you think we can help him, then yes. I’m willing to try.”
“Roan?” Grace asked.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice like an emery board over a broken nail. “I’m in.”
Their eyes met. And, for a moment, she was seventeen again, looking into the eyes of the boy she loved
“Wonderful,” Grace said. “Now, this program will need funding. We’ll cover the initial costs ourselves, but, for long-term sustainability, we’ll need community support. I’m thinking we should host a fundraiser. A gala, perhaps. Something elegant that brings the whole town together.”
“When were you thinking?” Pastor David asked.
“The third week of December,” Grace said. “Before Christmas gets too hectic. And I’ve already spoken with my daughter-in-law, Mia, about using her new restaurant—the old historic dance hall she renovated last year. It will be perfect.”
“That building is stunning,” Reese said. “She’s done an amazing job with the restoration.”
“It would give us a chance to introduce the program to the community,” Walter added. “Let people know what we’re doing and why it matters.”