How Sweet It Is - Alice J. Wisler [82]
To which Bubba mutters, “I’m trying to sleep.”
There is a last cry from Bobby. “When will it be breakfast? Why can’t it be morning already?”
thirty-seven
What’s wrong with Rhonda?” I ask.
Robert glances back at the area behind us where the tents are and says, “She’ll be all right.”
“Did the talk about God upset her?”
When the children were finally settled in their tents, Robert, Zack, Rhonda, and I had circled around the campfire with mugs of decaf coffee. I’d supplied the coffee—Starbucks Hazelnut. I even provided a small carton of half-and-half. We boiled the beans in a pan with water until the water was the color of charcoal. Then we filtered the dark liquid into our mugs. The taste wasn’t Starbucks, but it was hot and strong.
Our discussion centered on God and building the kids’ faith in Him despite all the hardships the children had been through and continued to deal with.
Zack said he had solid hope that showing God’s love to each of the kids would result in something positive. He said he felt every child who attended The Center had showed improvement.
Rhonda disagreed. “They can’t experience love,” she said as her eyes reflected the fire. “They’ve been too scarred.”
Zack asked if she thought they were a lost cause.
She said, “No, but I don’t expect any miracles anytime soon.” Her tone was melancholy. Her shoulders slouched, and I wanted to tell her to sit up straight, but I’m glad I didn’t. After all, talk of Lavonna Dewanna and her hunchback isn’t welcomed at every event.
Zack said, “Don’t give up.”
“On what, Zack?” she demanded.
If ever there was an undercurrent, that was it. Clearly, she was no longer referring to the kids at The Center, or the other children she and Zack worked with at Social Services. She was jabbing at something else.
He looked over at her, across the flames. In a steady voice, he said, “Only on the kids.”
She left after that, heading to the tent she shared with Lisa and Charlotte.
Now, after pouring another cup of coffee and adding cream to it, I try again. “Is Rhonda okay?”
Robert eyes Zack.
Zack tosses a stick into the fire. “She’s mad at me.”
“Oh.” I understand the feeling. I’ve been mad at him, too. I guess we’re all taking turns. Except Zack and Rhonda went out on a date so this is probably some sort of lovers’ quarrel. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with love anymore. I think of Jonas’s words: “No, no. They went out to talk things over. Zack is like that.” Well, I don’t know if Jonas knows what is really going on. I sure don’t.
The fire crackles, and we hear the boys talking in their tent. I wonder if any of the kids is capable of being quiet for any length of time. I see the beams of flashlights dart across the tops of the tents from inside. I hear Rainy say, “Let’s tell ghost stories now.”
Darren calls from his tent for Zack, and Zack leaves the fire.
Robert edges closer to me. “You know Rhonda has been trying to get Zack’s attention for months.”
Well, I would say so. I recall their embrace in the kitchen when I walked in on them at the end of August.
“Zack thinks he has to be nice to everybody. I tell him that he has to learn when it comes to being chased by someone you aren’t interested in, you have to show some character.”
“You told him that?”
“I sure did. He has to tell her where she stands.”
In his arms in the kitchen is what I think, but I say nothing.
“I had this woman chase me once.” He looks up at a sky of piercingly bright stars and a moon partially covered by a wispy cloud. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
I try to remember if anyone has ever hounded me for a date, or for my attention. Nope—unless you count Lester Hurman, and that was back in sixth grade, when I had braces and wore a training bra.
Robert is about to say more, but Zack returns and eases his lean body onto a stone planted across from me. The fire illuminates the features of his face as I wonder if he really doesn’t care for Rhonda. Then I shift on the flat stone where I am seated, draw my knees to my chest, and think, Give it up, Deena. You have sworn off