The Cinderella Plan

Rex cleared his throat. “The only thing I can think that set Dylan off last night was he didn’t get to see a TV show he had wanted to. With five children in the house, he has his chores that have to be done and he wasn’t through with the dishes when the show came on.”

“I understand.” Caleb forced himself to keep his hands from clenching at his sides. Chores were an important part of a family, but, like Anne, he wasn’t so sure about the Givens’ motives for taking in foster children. He’d been around other foster parents, especially Reverend Fraser and his wife, who loved their charges and their home reflected that love. When he’d been inside the Givens’ home, he didn’t feel that kind of love for the children. They were a business to Rex and Cora Givens. “I’d like to counsel Dylan on a formal basis. He needs more than he’s getting right now coming to the center and just hanging out.”

Rex straightened his large frame in the small chair, its creaking sound permeating the porch. “You can say that again. Dylan’s more than Cora and me can handle. He resents any work we want him to do around the house. His attitude has been affecting the others in the short time he’s been here.” He crossed his arms. “Frankly, we don’t know what to do about the boy anymore. We’re thinking of calling the state to place him somewhere else.”

Caleb’s hand curled into a fist. “Let me work with him first. Give me a chance.”

“He’s been going to the youth center for the past month and nothing about his attitude has changed.”

“It takes time, Mr. Givens,” Anne said, shifting next to Caleb, her hand brushing up next to his fist, as though she sensed his tension and was trying to reassure him.

Her soft voice tempered Caleb, and he uncurled his hand. Lord, what do I do? Dylan needs me.

“I can’t let the boy disrupt my household and set the wrong example. I have four other children to think about.”

Caleb didn’t want Dylan to be moved from foster home to foster home if there was a better solution. “Give me until the end of this month before you make a decision. Please.” He gave up fighting his feelings and took Anne’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her surprise reflected in her expression, but he didn’t release his hold nor did she pull her hand away.

Rex rose. “Fine. But if things don’t get better soon, I’ll be talking to Dylan’s case manager about another foster home.”

Caleb stood at the same time as Anne, their clasped hands dropping to their sides. For a second he had a strong urge to grab hold of her again. Stunned by the need, he stepped away. “Don’t say anything to Dylan about your plans.”

“You’ve got four weeks, Reverend. Things have got to get better or Dylan needs to go back to the state.”

Anne stiffened and started to say something but stopped herself. Instead, she stalked down the steps and walked toward his Suburban. Caleb watched her until she stopped at the curb and waited for him. He, too, fought the anger roiling in his stomach. Rex Givens wanted only easy children to raise. Life wasn’t that simple. Caleb wondered how much of the man’s attitude Dylan was aware of.

“What’s her problem?” Rex asked, tossing his head in the direction of Anne.

Caleb bit back what he really wanted to say to the man about children being precious resources, not commodities to trade in when something didn’t go just right. He needed a chance to counsel Dylan and that meant going through Rex Givens. “I’ll start working with Dylan after school on Monday if that’s okay with you,” he said, rather than answering Rex.

“Fine.” The large man shuffled toward the screen door. “Personally I think it’s a waste of your time. But then it’s your time, not mine.”

Caleb hurried from the porch before he said something he shouldn’t. Anne leaned against his car, her ankles crossed, her arms folded over her chest, nothing casual about her stance. When she lifted her gaze to his, all the anger he felt was deep in her eyes. He reached around her and opened the door. She slipped inside.

When he slid in behind the wheel, the swirling tension in the small confines of his Suburban escalated to a minitornado. He twisted around to look at her and try to defuse the moment.

“I can’t believe that man! Did you hear him? Those children don’t mean a thing to him. I know foster parents aren’t always easy to find, but he and Cora shouldn’t be ones at all. I—” Her mouth closed about the words she was going to say, the line of her jaw hard.

Anne’s face in her self-righteous anger was a beautiful sight to behold. She was like a female bear protecting her cubs, intending to throw her body in the way of danger. The zeal in Anne appealed to him. Why had he never seen it before? Because she was a master at keeping herself in the background, of blending in so no one noticed her. But he noticed her now—the flushed cheeks, the blue sparkle in her eyes, the full pouty lips.

“I know. I wish I had an—” Caleb stopped, an idea forming in his mind.

“What?”

“I could apply to be Dylan’s foster parent.”

The fury siphoning from her, Anne smiled. “That would be perfect! Then he wouldn’t have to leave Chestnut Grove if there wasn’t another family to take him in. He’s been making friends here. I would hate to take that away from him. And the best part is, you can work with him and maybe help him.”

Caleb started the engine. “It might work.”

“It will work. I have a good feeling about it.”

He slanted a look toward Anne. “It’s dinnertime. Want to go grab something to eat at the Starlight Diner?”

“I—I—” Flustered, Anne snapped her mouth closed, color tingeing her cheeks a pretty rosy hue.

“What? No? Yes?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ve just realized I’m starved. It’s been a long day looking for a runaway, making flyers, dealing with Rex Givens. I hope you’re hungry, because I’m planning on having dessert in celebration.”

“Celebration?”

“Yeah. Hopefully I’ve found a way to help Dylan.” Caleb’s spirits lifted even more when he saw the smile grow on Anne’s face. He grinned in return, feeling like a teenage boy discovering the appeal of girls.

“What if the Givens decide to keep Dylan?”

Pulling away from their house, Caleb said, “I’ve got the feeling they won’t mind me applying for the job. They’ll probably welcome it. From what Rex said, they would much rather have an easier child to parent.”

“And if Dylan leaves their house, they’ll have room for another one?”

“Yep.”

Anne thought of her own parents and their lack of involvement in raising her. They had been wrapped up in their teaching at the college and their research projects. Although she still lived with them, even now she rarely saw her parents. She sometimes wondered if the only reason they had wanted her to live with them—in fact, they’d insisted—was so she could watch the house when they were gone, which was a lot lately with her father on the lecture circuit.

“Parenting shouldn’t be a business,” Anne said, then instantly regretted revealing her thoughts. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from expounding on the subject.

Caleb stopped at a red light, throwing her a glance. “I agree. Being a parent is the most important job there is, and it should never be taken lightly or for granted.”

“Are your parents still alive?”

“No. They were in their forties when they had me. They tried for years and had actually given up when I came along. They told everyone I was God’s little surprise for them.” Pressing his foot on the accelerator, he drove through the intersection.

Anne heard the love in his voice. “Then you were an only child?”

“Yes. Even though my parents were older, I kept bugging them for a brother. It never happened.” He parked in front of the diner and switched off the engine, angling toward her. “I didn’t like being an only child. When I have a family, I want a whole house full of children. How about you?”

“I was an only child, too. I didn’t much like it, either.” She purposely avoided answering him about having children of her own. She also wanted a whole house full of them, but she didn’t think that would happen. Her marriage prospects were slim. They shared a dream but not a future.

He started to say something, seemed to think about it and decided not to. Instead, he turned away and got out of the car. Hurrying around the front of the car, he opened her door for her before she had a chance to gather her purse from the floor and do it herself. For a second she almost felt as if she was on a real date, but then reality hit when she glimpsed herself and Caleb in the plate glass window along the front of the diner. They were such an unlikely pair. The best she could hope for with Caleb Williams was friendship.

Inside he grabbed a booth with bright blue vinyl seats near the front and slid in, peering at the poster of James Dean on the wall above him. She gave James a quick smile. An old Elvis song played on the jukebox at the back of the diner, its catchy tune causing her to tap her foot to the beat. So many odors vied for dominance. Anne drew in a deep breath and relished the scent of beef sizzling above all the other aromas.

“Hmm.” He flipped open the menu. “It always smells so good in here. I wish I was a better cook than I am.”

“You don’t cook?”

He shook his head. “What I do when I’m desperate isn’t what you would really call cooking. I have a lot of frozen dinners and prepared foods. How about you? Do you like to cook?”

“I can cook, but I can’t say that I like to. It’s not that much fun to cook for just yourself.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“Yes, but they aren’t home that much to eat what I make, so I resort to frozen dinners, too.” Anne opened the menu and skimmed it, already knowing what she was going to have.

When the waitress, Miranda Jones, came to the table a few minutes later, Caleb gave her their orders, then took a long sip of his ice water. “I’m so relieved that you’ll be helping with the decorations this week. I hope it won’t be too much extra work for you.”

Unwrapping her utensils, Anne smoothed her napkin in her lap. “No. The only night I can’t make it is Wednesday night. I volunteer to hold babies at the hospital that evening.”

“Hold babies?”

“Actually, I usually do it twice a week, but I think I can get someone to do my Friday shift since that’s when we’ll be putting up all the decorations for the carnival on Saturday.” She leaned forward, loving the topic of conversation. “I sit in a rocking chair and hold, talk to and even feed the babies, who need someone to do it for them. There are some babies—many of them preemies—who are in the hospital for weeks and need to be held and loved, either because their parents can’t always be there to do it or because they don’t have parents who want to. I think it’s the best job in the world.” Especially since I don’t know if I will ever have my own children to hold, she silently added.

“I didn’t realize there was such a job. You’re right. It would be great. You would probably enjoy working in our nursery on Sunday.”

Anne stared down at her plate. She knew so little about God and Jesus, only what Grandma Rose had told her as a little girl. When her gaze returned to his, she said, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a church for a service other than a funeral or a wedding.”

Chapter Three

Caleb relaxed back in his seat, the noise of the jukebox and the patrons in the diner fading into the background as he riveted his attention to Anne. “Then you should come to our service one Sunday.”

“I don’t know.” She fidgeted with her napkin, balling it up. “My parents are atheists.”

“And you?” Caleb gritted his teeth, almost afraid to hear her reply.

“Confused. I don’t know what I am. When I was a little girl, I used to visit my grandma and go to church with her. Then I would come home and my parents would have nothing to do with going to church even when I would ask them about it.”

The tension washed from him as he sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. “On Sunday afternoons I have a group at the center. We discuss our faith, the Bible, the challenges of being a Christian in today’s world. Come join us. Some talk, some just listen.”

“I don’t know. I—I’ll think about it.”

“We start at three and go till we finish.”

“No set time to end?”

“Sometimes we’re in a talkative mood, other times not. There’s no pressure put on the group. It’s a time to explore our faith.”

Miranda brought their dinners and first placed Anne’s plate in front of her, then Caleb’s. The scent of roast beef, slathered in a thick, brown gravy, wafted to him, reminding him he was hungry. He watched Anne pick at her cheeseburger and fries and wondered what she was thinking.

Lord, help me to reach her. She needs me. She needs You in her life.

Caleb listened to Gina give the opening prayer before they began their Sunday afternoon faith session. When the girl finished, his gaze slid toward the door into the TV room at the center. Was Anne going to come? he wondered, fighting the disappointment that she wasn’t sitting with them.

He could remember Teresa in college and their long talks about God. He’d thought he could show her the importance of the Lord, but in the end he hadn’t been able to and he’d had to acknowledge he couldn’t marry someone who didn’t believe as he did. He would have been asking for trouble before their marriage even began. Cutting his losses had hurt him deeply because he had loved Teresa, but when he married, it would be for a lifetime.

“A friend at school asked me the other day that if Jesus was really the son of God, then why did He die like He did? Why didn’t He just save himself?”

Jeremy’s question pulled Caleb out of the past and firmly in the present. “What do you all think?” He scanned the fourteen faces of the teenagers in the group.

Tiffany waved her hand in the air, bouncing up and down on her chair. “I know why. I know! He died for our sins.”

“He died because He was finished with His message to us. Christ had done what He was sent to do,” Gina added.

As Billy gave his opinion, Caleb saw Anne at the doorway. She listened to the different children’s opinions but didn’t come any farther into the room. A lightness entered his heart at the thought she had come to hear about God. There was hope.

Leaning forward, Caleb rested his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands loosely together. “What you say is all true. But more importantly, Jesus was resurrected to show us the way, to show us not to fear death, that He would be waiting for us when our time came. No other has come back from the dead like He did.” As Caleb talked, he noticed Anne step into the room. “He wanted His disciples to go out into the world and spread His word. And Christ wanted no doubt in their minds who He was. How would you have responded if He had shown Himself to you three days after He had died?”

Anne eased into a chair next to Nikki near the door. The young girl bent toward Anne and said something to her. Anne smiled, then glanced at him. Caleb’s heartbeat increased. The sound of voices melted away while his attention clung to Anne across the room, experiencing a connection to her that he hadn’t before.

She was here. She had taken her first step toward the Lord. His heart sang with the news and all the possibilities. Hope flared into a full-blown promise.

An hour later when the discussion died down, Gina announced, “I brought brownies for anyone who is hungry.”

The teenagers made their way to the table along the west wall where the brownies and some soda were set up. Anne hung back, moving toward the door.

“You aren’t going to leave without saying hi, are you?” Caleb asked, eager to see what her impression of the session was.

“Hi.” She sidled a step closer to the door. “You didn’t tell me I would be one of two adults at this meeting.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important. You know everyone here.” He spread his arms wide. “What did you think?” He positioned himself between Anne and the door, not wanting her to leave just yet.

“Interesting. I particularly liked Billy’s comment about seeing Jesus after He died.”

“I think ‘wow’ just about sums it all up. Leave it to a child to put it into one word.”

“Kids do have a way of getting to the point.”

“So?” He propped his shoulder against the door frame, folding his arms over his chest, hoping he appeared casual, nonchalant.

“This past hour has given me a lot to think about.” Anne looked back at the group. “Where’s Dylan?”

“He’s never come to one of these meetings.”

“So you haven’t had time to talk with him anymore?”

He shook his head. “But we’re going to meet tomorrow after school.”

“Before we work on the decorations?”

“Yep.”

“Anne, it’s nice to see you here,” Gina said, interrupting them. “Want a brownie?” She held up a nearly empty plate, thrusting it between Anne and Caleb.

“I’d better not. If I ate one, I would want two.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having two brownies. How about you, Caleb?”

“Thanks.” Caleb took one from the plate, his palms sweaty.

“Catch y’all later. Got to get rid of the rest of these. I can’t take them home! Mom would so not be happy.” She went back to the other kids for a soda.

“Only a child who is reed thin would say that about two brownies,” Anne said with a laugh, looking up at Caleb.

“I’m glad you came.”

She pinned him with an intense look. “Why?”

“Because I want you to experience Jesus as I do.” Which was true, but Caleb wondered if it wasn’t more than that.

Caleb read the e-mail from Kimberly Forrester a second time before deleting it. He missed the theology talks over coffee they’d had while they’d both been missionaries together at the same mission in Africa. He missed their friendship, which had grown while working together, and wished an ocean didn’t separate them, but he understood her need to serve God the way she thought He wanted. In her e-mail it sounded as if she was accomplishing what she had set out to do. He was glad for her, but it left his own failure to reach Dylan as a disappointment.

Yesterday at their first formal counseling session, the boy hadn’t said more than two words—good bye—at the end of the longest fifteen minutes Caleb had experienced. He would try again today and prayed he could get through to the boy.

Shutting down his computer, Caleb rose to see what was keeping Dylan. He should have been here by now. When he walked outside, he noticed the boy sitting on the steps, chin resting in his palms, shoulders hunched.

“Dylan, I was worried about you.”

Dylan remained silent, his face averted.

Caleb eased down next to the boy who twisted away. “What’s wrong?”

“If you must know,” Dylan muttered and brought his face around for Caleb to see.

“How did you get that nasty cut?”

“A fight.”

“When? With who?”

“Today after school.” The boy squared his shoulders, defiance in his expression now, as though he silently challenged Caleb to say anything about him fighting.

“What happened?”

“I got tired of a couple of guys making fun of me. I decided to fight back.” Dylan’s eyes narrowed, his body stiff, as though he were ready to fight all over again.

“Did fighting solve your problem?”

The child shot to his feet, his hands fisted. “Yes. They’ll think twice before taunting me again.”

“What were they taunting you about?” Caleb rose slowly, weary from lack of sleep and concern over Dylan.

His knuckles whitened, his body grew even more rigid. “Because my father is a drunk. Because—” He whirled about and raced up the steps, disappearing into the center.

Caleb heaved a sigh and followed the boy into the building, the anger he felt gripping Dylan charging the air with an intensity that was thick, heavy. He found him in the TV room, watching a program. Caleb walked over and switched off the set. Dylan’s mouth firmed into a scowl, his forehead creased with deep lines. He lowered his gaze, staring at the floor at his feet.

“We need to talk about this.” Caleb moved toward the boy.

Dylan jerked his head up and stabbed him with an angry look. “No, we don’t. I don’t care what people think. I was just tired of them talking to me.” He turned away as though Caleb wasn’t in the room.

Rage encompassed every inch of Dylan. Caleb was at a loss about what to do to help him. Please, Lord. I need Your guidance more than ever with this one. I can’t fail him.

“You know, Dylan, no matter what you do, I am still here for you. I care about you, enough that I have put in an application to be a foster parent. Your foster parent.”

The only sign Dylan heard his words was a slight stiffening. Otherwise his head remained averted, his lower lip stuck out in a pout, his arms crossed over his chest. Silence eroded Caleb’s confidence that one day he would be able to reach him. He moved to stand in the boy’s direct line of vision.

“I didn’t ask you to be my foster parent,” Dylan finally muttered, his gaze lifting to Caleb’s.

“I know. I want to be.”

“Why?”

“Because I think we need each other.”

“I don’t need you.” Dylan dropped his gaze away, hugging his arms to his chest.

“But I need you.”

For a long moment Caleb wasn’t even sure that Dylan had heard him this time. Then the boy drew in his lower lip and chewed on it, his shoulders now bowed as though he were an old man. In many ways he had seen more of the darker side of life than most at his age. Thinking about the boy’s past only reaffirmed Caleb’s need to pierce through Dylan’s armor and reach him. He hadn’t lied to the child. He needed him.

Dylan was his chance to right a wrong.

Tension knotted Anne’s neck, causing her shoulders to ache and a dull pain to throb behind her eyes. She stood and stretched, rolling her head. She had spent an hour looking through the old ledgers, and yet, she hadn’t found anything to help Kelly. Maybe the answers weren’t in the books, but she couldn’t rule them out.

Checking her watch, she hurriedly shut the book and put it on the top of the stack of old ledgers for the adoption agency. She hadn’t realized how late it was. She needed to get to the youth center to help make the decorations for the carnival. With a glance out the window she noticed that dusk began to blanket the landscape.

Snatching up her purse, she rushed from her office, arriving at the center ten minutes later. The lights in the building blazed as the dark shadows of night crept closer. She was never late, but she had become so absorbed earlier in the ledgers that she’d lost track of time, which was most unusual for her. Lately she had felt many things about her life weren’t usual. She didn’t like not having control over what was going on. But worse, she was wrestling with whom she was, questioning how she saw herself.

In the arts-and-crafts room, Caleb looked up from sprinkling silver glitter all over a large star. “I was wondering where you were. I was going to give you fifteen more minutes and then send out a posse.”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen someone look at the clock so much,” Gina mumbled, whisking the star away from Caleb and replacing it with another one to be decorated.

“He was cutting out the stars until he cut off one of the points. He’s been banned from using a pair of scissors.”

Anne offered a weak smile. “Sorry I’m late. I got busy and forgot the time. What do you need me to do?”

“Help Caleb with the stars.” Gina moved over to let Anne sit next to him. “He needs help. Desperately.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” Caleb muttered and proceeded to dump more glitter on the table than the star in front of him.

As Anne worked, her arm brushed against Caleb’s. She started to scoot her chair over to give them more room but noticed that Gina had her penned in. The teenager flashed her a smile and winked. If Anne didn’t know better, she would think that Gina was sitting too close on purpose. But why would she do that?