The Lights of Tenth Street (14 page)

“Thank you, sir.”

He walked her out the door of his office and asked his secretary to get her a packet of financial aid materials.

“Please call me if you have any further questions, or need help in the process. That’s what we’re here for.” When Ronnie nodded silently, he gave her an intent look. “I’m serious, Ronnie. It sounds like you’re swimming uphill, and you might need a boost from time to time. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“All right … and thank you.” Ronnie turned as the secretary approached.

“Here you are.” She handed over a large manila envelope. “That should have everything you need. You might want to go relax in the library for a few minutes and look through the materials. If you have any questions, you could just run over to the financial aid office. It’s not that far away.”

“I’ll do that.” Ronnie slotted all the papers she’d received into the envelope and hugged it to her chest. “Thanks for all your help, really.”

“My pleasure.” The brisk demeanor melted into a smile. “Good luck, Miss Hanover.”

The campus library was nearly deserted for the holidays, as Ronnie pored over catalog after catalog, flyer after flyer. So many classes! So many activities! Her eyes soaked in the pictures of international skylines: Paris … Shanghai … Sydney. An international exchange program—now
that
would be an adventure.

She flipped through the course catalog. To work in physical therapy, she could concentrate in premed … or maybe physical fitness … Four years of it! Maybe she’d even go on to get a masters degree! The tingle of excitement made her jumpy. She wanted to start classes now. She gave a little snort of amusement. Yeah, except for
that little hurdle called a high school diploma.

She turned to the next booklet, and her smile faded. Well, she would have to face reality at some point. Maybe if Mr. Woodward was right, she’d be able to get some grant money and take out fewer loans. She ran her fingers down the costs of tuition, materials, room and board, jotted some notes in her notebook, and pulled the financial aid materials from their envelope.

Ten minutes later, her note taking slowed, and then stopped. Ronnie read the fine print again, and again, then laid the packet on the desk and buried her head in her hands.

Parental agreement! She more than qualified for a “financial need” grant, but there was no way that her family would cooperate. Seth would never allow her mother to disclose their finances to the financial aid office, much less cosign a loan application so she would have enough to live on while she completed her degree.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight as the full reality hit her. She was going to have to be a part-time student. No four-year degree for her. She was going to have to keep working at The Challenger, and juggle day classes with night work.

If only she could find a way to get one of those grants.

S
herry pulled into the church parking lot and stopped the minivan in a spot by the front door.

“Okay all of you—out!”

Her voice was cheerful but firm. Five hours of raucous grade-schoolers was about all she could take. The science museum was kid-friendly, but still … thank goodness the parents took turns on field trip duty.

The chattering kids—all but Brandon and Genna—wrenched open the minivan doors, and scattered to the cars and vans dotting the parking lot. Several parents that Sherry didn’t recognize were standing or sitting on the church steps.

One woman glanced toward Sherry’s minivan, did a slow double take, and headed her direction.

Sherry rolled down her window, shivering a bit as the December air crept into the toasty vehicle.

The woman had an incredulous smile on her face. “Sherry—Sherry Rice?”

“I’m sorry, do I—”

“I’m Jo Markowitz, Sherry! From Harvard?”

“Jo!” Sherry jumped out of the minivan and hugged her old college friend. “I haven’t seen you in—gosh—eight, nine years?”

“Not since homecoming that first year out.”

“Right, right! What’re you doing here?”

Jo glanced at the church building behind her, a tinge of disbelief in her voice. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Sherry gave a small laugh. “Yeah, I bet you could.”

Jo watched a Volvo station wagon pull into the parking lot. A red-haired boy sat in the rear fold-down seat, his hair poking out at wild angles.

“Well, that’s my son. Hopefully he didn’t electrocute himself at SciTrek.”

“Um …” Sherry smiled. “I did see him try that electrostatic demonstration one too many times.”

“Well, that accounts for the hair. Plus, he’s a boy.”

The Volvo doors swung open and the kids bounded out. The redhead caught sight of Jo’s waving arm and ran up to her, nearly knocking her over with an
enthusiastic hug. He immediately started chattering about all they had seen and done during the day, until Jo gave him a good-natured “noogie,” pressing his face into her side to silence him. He howled and batted at her hands.

She released him and pointed toward Sherry. “Blake, this is Sherry Rice, one of my old friends from college. Can you say hi?”

He looked down at his toes, suddenly shy. “Hi.”

“Hi, Blake. I have a son about your age. His name is Brandon.”

The little face lit up. “I know Brandon! He’s on my basketball team. But … his last name is Turner.”

“That’s my Brandon. My married name is Turner. You know, Brandon’s in the van … why don’t you say hi?”

Jo gave her a direct look. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Listen, what’re you doing now? Could you take the time for coffee?”

Sherry hesitated, covering her indecision by looking at her watch.

When Sherry nodded, Jo pointed down Tenth Street. “You know that coffee shop in the bookstore? The kids could amuse themselves in the children’s section while we talk. I’ve got a commitment in a few hours, but until then.…”

Sherry shivered again. “That sounds great.”

Ten minutes later, the kids were happily exploring the latest electronic wizardry in the children’s section, clearly visible from the coffee shop, with firm instructions not to venture into the rest of the bookstore. Sherry found an empty corner with two plush chairs and sipped her hot tea, watching Jo fix her cream-and-sugar at a nearby countertop.

“There we are.” Jo settled into a cushiony chair with a contented sigh. “I love this coffee.”

Sherry barely nodded. The silence lengthened as they sipped their drinks.

“So Blake is in the Trinity Chapel School with Brandon? First grade?”

“Yes.”

“Are you married? Have other kids?”

“Yep, I’m Jo Woodward now. My husband’s name is Vance. We met right after college, at our church in New York City, while I was in nursing school. He’s a great guy, I’d love for you to meet him.”

“That would be nice, sometime. So no other kids.”

“Nope, just Blake. But he’s a handful!” Jo leaned forward, perched on the edge of her seat, her eyes gleaming. “Sherry … I know I haven’t seen you in years, so forgive
me if I just cut through the polite chitchat and ask you a question. Have you come back to the Lord?”

As Sherry nodded, Jo’s eyes filled with tears. She reached out and gave Sherry a fierce hug, whispering “Praise God!” over and over again. Sherry returned the embrace, and tears filled her own eyes. It had been so long …

Jo released her and gripped one of Sherry’s hands. “You don’t know how long I’ve prayed—” She broke off, her eyes watering again. “I can’t believe it. It’s so awesome of God to let me find this out. I’ve lost touch with your old roommate—does she know?”

Sherry laughed. “Are you kidding? Claire was the first person I called.”

“I’ll bet! So—what happened?”

“Well, you know what happened at school … and everything.” Sherry looked down, and she could feel her face turning red. “When you and the others came to Jesus, I turned further away. I know it makes no sense, but I was so furious and confused, I felt like I had to go against the pack and run as far from God as I could. Claire and I didn’t room together after that first year, and I pretty much spent the rest of college partying and living it up, and … well … you know all about the rest of that.”

“I remember. We were all praying for you, you know.”

“Yeah.” Sherry gave a short laugh. “Claire told me that several times, and I just yelled that I didn’t want any part of her or her God, and to stop praying for me. I’m so glad you all didn’t stop.”

“Me, too.” Jo gave an incredulous shake of her head. “God is so good.”

“So … after all that other stuff that happened, when I graduated I decided to pull it together a bit and move back down here.”

“You’re from Atlanta? I didn’t know that.”

“Well, not from Atlanta but from Georgia. My folks live a few hours away. But I really didn’t want to stay there; no good job prospects. And since Atlanta was the best market, I jumped right in, found a great job in marketing and lived the life of a swinging single woman.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Sherry sighed. “ ‘Oh’ is right. And what was supposed to be so fun just didn’t appeal to me anymore. It was like I was going through the motions. I started to get so lonely, I even began to return Claire’s e-mails. I found myself just wishing God would either kill me or prove to me that He was real.”

“But hadn’t you made a commitment to Christ when you were a teenager?”

“I thought I had, but I went through such a long rebellion it was hard for me to believe any of it anymore. None of my so-called friends or boyfriends bought it,
and the only ones I knew who did, were people from college like Claire and you … and Doug.”

“Ah, now were getting to the good part! You’re married to Doug Turner!”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, don’t torture me … how on earth did
that
happen?”

“Well, I have to tell you how I came to the Lord first. Believe it or not, I finally lost it one night in front of the stupid television. There was a cheesy show by a local pastor, talking about how no matter what we had done, God would forgive us and take us in. He told the story of the prodigal son, and about the transforming power of the father’s nonjudgmental love. I called Claire, sobbing that I wanted to be transformed, that I didn’t want to live this empty, shallow life anymore. She prayed with me on the phone.”

“Oh,” Jo held her hand to her heart, “that must’ve just made her so—”

“She was sobbing, too. I know it sounds stupid, but I was almost as joyful for her as I was for me. I know how much she prayed for me, all those years. The next day, she called me back and told me that I had to get plugged in to a good church, and to Christian friends. So this time, I really did it. I broke off my relationships with the men that I was seeing—”

“Men? Plural?”

Sherry looked sideways. “Does that really surprise you?”

“Uh … no … not really. Sorry.”

“So anyway, I broke off those relationships, and really pulled back from the other friends. I was pretty lonely for a few months, but I knew if I went back to that crowd, I didn’t have the resolve to stay the course. I had no idea how to find a good church, so I called a Christian man that Claire said was also working in Atlanta—our old college buddy, Doug Turner.”

“Oh,
now
we’re getting to it.”

“So he suggested that I go to his church with him on Sunday.”

“Let me guess—Trinity Chapel?”

“Trinity Chapel. I get plugged in, start growing in my faith, and then I notice that Doug starts looking at me across the sanctuary on Sunday mornings.”

“And the rest is history. What an amazing story.” Suddenly, Jo started and swiveled in her seat. “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot about the kids!”

“They’re fine. See?” Sherry pointed to where the two boys and Genna were squabbling over a book set. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them. So what about you? I didn’t know you were even in Atlanta. You don’t go to our church … do you?”

“No, we don’t, although we love the church’s school for Blake. We go to Good Shepherd Church.”

“Just a couple miles away.”

“That’s the one.”

“I’ve always wondered why some folks who have their kids in our school don’t go to our church.”

Jo swirled the coffee in her cup and studied it closely. “Well … we found a church that fits us better.”

“What do you mean, fits you better?”

“We wanted a church that focused on service. There’s so much need in Atlanta, and it just breaks my heart. The people at Good Shepherd are really loving, and pretty much everyone is involved in the ministry somehow. Our family volunteers downtown a lot. It’s good for Blake, too.”

“Yeah,” Sherry pursed her lips. “Trinity Chapel does some of that, but I don’t think it’s a huge priority.”

“That’s sort of what we felt, too. And Trinity just—Well, never mind.”

“No, what were you going to say?”

Jo looked up. “Let me ask you first: What do you like most about your church?”

“Well … it’s been my first real church, where I’ve learned about my faith. It’s a strong, biblical church.”

“That’s great, obviously. Anything else?”

“The kids like the children’s program, and the pastor is really nice.”

“You’ve made a lot of friends there?”

“Not as much as I’d like. That really would be nice, especially once Genna’s fully in school and I’ve got more time on my hands. But … well … it’s just hard to really connect with people.” Sherry gave a self-conscious shrug. “And there aren’t a whole lot of folks who would understand my past.”

“What does your past have to do with anything?”

Sherry looked up, surprised. “You’ve seen our church. It’s full of these perfect, happy people who grew up in Christian homes and have walked with the Lord for years. It’s nice to be in that environment—it keeps me on the straight and narrow—but they’d never understand.”

“But everyone’s made mistakes. We’re—”

“Not these folks. I mean, yes, we’re all human, but I’m telling you, these are good Christian people and they’d be shocked.”

“Well, okay, maybe … but you think they wouldn’t accept you?”

“I know they wouldn’t.”