<< Go Back

At the Crossroad (Sweet River Redemption) (Volume 2)

By Christa MacDonald

Order Now!

Erin Sullivan hung up the phone and resisted the temptation to kick something. Since this was the teacher’s lounge and not her office, she closed her eyes instead and took a deep, hopefully calming breath. She could smell the mint tea that the guidance counselor stocked in the staff pantry, the leather of the lounge chairs, and the coffee pot left half-full on the beverage bar. The downside of being the athletics director at Sweet River Christian Academy was that her office in the gym was right in the middle of the action, but far from soundproof and definitely not private enough to make a call to a parent concerning their two sons. And especially not when those two sons were about to be kicked off the hockey team for yet again failing to attend practice.

The teacher's lounge was part of the administrative office, and since it had a door that could be closed, and so would be empty as a tomb at four in the afternoon, it was the spot Erin usually chose for these kinds of calls. Slowly exhaling, she realized that her calming breath hadn't done its job. She said a quick prayer, hoping that the knot of angst she felt in her stomach would disappear once her heart was emptied out and her head was clear. A soft knock split the silence, and she heard the door creak open.

“How'd it go?”

She didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was. Katherine MacAlister was both the director of the school and her friend, and Erin had briefed her on the continuing struggles with the Murphy boys. Katherine knew how difficult calling a parent could be and that a call to Claire Murphy would be that and more. The Murphys were a legacy family, with three generations having transitioned from students to donors. That was a boon for the school, but Claire tended to see it as a reason to receive special treatment. Erin didn't believe in giving anyone special treatment.

“It went awesome." Erin turned to Katherine with a wink. "Claire has resolved to make sure that her sons are at every practice from now on, and she's taking me to lunch tomorrow to celebrate what a fantastic job I'm doing."

“And without the sarcasm?” Katherine raised an eyebrow.

“About how you'd imagine.” She ticked off Claire's excuses on her fingers. “It's not her fault the boys missed practice because her car was in the shop. Practices don't matter anyway. We always schedule them at an inconvenient time with little respect for the effort parents have to put into these things. She ended with a zinger though.” Erin tried to imitate Claire's smooth diction. “I assume that a woman like you would understand.” Erin mimed slamming a phone receiver down. “Dial tone.”

“A ‘woman like you’?”

“She said something about how her husband works so much she might as well be a single mom, and no one understood how hard she has it.”

“That doesn’t seem like her. She’s normally on top of every detail. She heads a committee on the PTO and that’s not a small amount of work.”

“She seemed a little tense.”

“Huh,” Katherine looked thoughtful. “Could be it’s as simple as not having a car.”

“She picked them up today in one.”

“Well . . . I'm trying to assume the best of Claire, but maybe it's too late in the day for soul calisthenics."

“Soul calisthenics?” Erin had to laugh. Katherine had a gift for odd turns of phrase. “I love that, but after today it would have to be more like soul boot camp.”

“The Murphys are a challenge.”

“To be honest, I don't really mind them. They're like most boys; they've got more energy than activities to occupy it. They're not bad kids, but they need structure. That reminds me, I've been meaning to ask you if we can add a morning PE elective. It would be before first bell, but after breakfast for the boarding students.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing to get their heart-rates up, something to get their muscles stretched and their brains focused. We could start with the kids who seem to need it, and then open it up for others if it's a success.”

“That's a great idea. I'll take a look at the schedule.” Katherine began to leave, and then swung around. "Do me a favor though; send me an official proposal, because this is something that will need an okay from the board. It's your bright idea, so I figure you can do the paperwork.”

“Thanks, boss,” Erin called as Katherine walked away with a wave over her shoulder.

Erin left the lounge, calling goodnight to the admin staff as she headed back to the gym. The dance team was finishing up as she walked in. Tchaikovsky was playing over a set of small speakers propped up on the bleachers. The girls were all in a line, going one by one to do a series of steps that ended in a grande jeté. They spotted her and instantly begged her to join them. Although it had been years since she had studied ballet seriously, her body hadn't forgotten much. Erin toed off her sneakers and joined the back of the line behind the smallest girl who gave her a thumbs-up. The girl was tiny, but clearly talented, as she executed her steps well and had perfectly flat legs on her mid-air split.

Erin's jeté wasn't as grande as she would have liked, but it was fun all the same. “How'd I do?” The girls all cheered as if she had soared eight feet high with perfect legs. The teacher gave her a wink as she rounded up her students and then headed for the locker room. Erin waited until they left, then took a look around the gym to be sure it was empty. Satisfied that she was alone, she raised her arms and began to dance. She started slowly and then moved into a series of chaînés. Her hair swung off her shoulders and she could feel the wide smile form on her face as joy—there was no other word for it—filled her heart.

She didn't get the chance to dance very often. Her little house, while being perfectly lovely, didn't have a room large enough. Sometimes before or after school she would try to get in a session in the gym, but she was almost always interrupted. However, a night like this, with no one scheduled for at least another hour, meant that she could dance off the stress of that phone call in peace. In her mind she still heard the music playing as she twirled and circled her way across the floor. When she missed a step and had to catch herself before landing on her backside, she laughed out loud, her mood so different from when she started. She tried the grande jeté again and nailed it.

Clapping sounded from the corridor doorway, and she spun around to find Dr. Daniel Connors, pastor of Calvary Church, leaning against the door frame as if he had been watching, a slight smile on his lips. Erin's breath caught, and a thousand butterflies took off in her stomach. She hadn’t seen him in a while since she had started attending New Day Baptist. When her daughter Brittany and husband Jake moved to Greenville, they started attending New Day Baptist since it was closer to their new house. Erin wanted to keep the whole family together on Sundays. It was tough leaving Calvary and driving to church rather than walking, but she felt her daughter needed the support and New Day Baptist had solid preaching. Not like Dan’s, but it was good.

“I'm sorry I startled you. I was hoping to find you in your office.”

Her stupid heart kicked up its rhythm, and if she wasn't wrong, the heat on her cheeks meant that she was blushing. Dan was in his usual suit, but he had taken off the jacket and loosened his tie. His hair was a bit rumpled too. For some crazy reason it only made him more attractive in her eyes. He looked approachable, not that she ever would.

“I'm afraid I'm not going to be at the meeting tonight. I meant to email you days ago, and it slipped my mind. It's been a hectic week. I figured I could tell you in person.” He looked tired, like life had taken too much out of him today. If not for her screaming crush on him, she might have asked him what was wrong in case talking about it would help. Not that she would ever talk with the man. He had been the pastor of the church for almost four years, and she hung on his every syllable, but never said more than 'Hello' and 'Goodbye' to him.

“So . . . if that's okay with you.”

Erin's tongue was still frozen in place. It was always like this when she ran into Dan unexpectedly. Or, truthfully, whenever she was near Dan at all. She had a full-body reaction to the man. Her brain froze, her tongue tied, her heart fluttered, and her stomach became a butterfly air show. No one else did this to her. She had been around men more attractive than him and hadn't suffered from paralysis. It was something about Dan.
Finally, she pulled her synapses together. “Sure.”

“Okay.” He stood in the doorway for what seemed like an unusually long time before he waved and then left.

Erin grabbed the stuff she had dropped earlier and all but ran back to her office. Of all the people she could be hung up on, she had to pick Dr. Dan Connors. He might be single, but he wasn’t likely to be interested in her. What did she have to offer a well-educated church pastor who had traveled the world? The only place out of state she’d ever been was over the border to Canada and down to Florida. She was the widow of a man who’d dropped out of high school and whose only claim to fame was his beer chugging record at Flannigan’s Bar. Half the town looked down their noses at her. No man of God would want anything to do with her and Dan was so far out of her league she would never stand a chance. If only her heart would realize that before it was too late.

****************

Dan headed for the parking lot, his mind in a whirl. He needed a minute, maybe ten, to shake off what he was feeling. The image of Erin Sullivan twirling across the floor, her hair in a fan of gold around her, a smile like he had never seen on her face, was burned into his brain. As soon as she had spotted him she had turned into her usual deer in the headlights. Her shyness meant he had never gotten to know her despite her attending his church and running the after-school basketball program he had volunteered for. It was almost as if she was intentional in her avoidance, but that made no sense. He had never gotten the impression she disliked him.

“Any chance of a lift?” The husky, slightly distant voice called Dan back to reality. He looked up to find Pete Coleman, the local game warden, soon to retire after surviving a brutal attack from a suspect, slowly making his way out of the school toward him. Pete was leaning heavily on his cane as he walked, but otherwise seemed in good shape.

“Of course.” Dan opened the passenger side door for him.

“You sure it's no trouble?” Pete gave him a quizzical look. “You seemed deep in thought.”

Dan knew many things about Pete and paramount among them was his sage-like ability to look into a person’s soul. Dan didn't want anyone looking into his soul today. It was a swirling mess. “I've got an hour before my next meeting, plenty of time to drive up to your place.” He crossed over to the driver’s side and got in, started up, pulled out of the parking lot and headed out of town, up the mountain where Pete lived.

“How are you doing, Pete?”

“Oh, can't complain. Well, I could, but it wouldn’t do me any good.” Pete settled his cane next to his leg. “Doctor says I’m fine considering the extent of damage the aneurysm did. Therapy is harder than I thought it would be, not being able to drive is a pain, having my daughters fuss over me is getting old, but . . .” He took a deep breath and let it out. "That right there? Breathing in and out? Beats the alternative."

Dan was glad to hear it since the struggle back from brain injuries like the one Pete had suffered didn't always go well. Dan would know. He had been watching that struggle fail for years and living with the consequences.
Pete spoke, and it was like he had been reading Dan's mind. “I saw you at Brookings Rehab the other day. Figured you were vising your mom. How's she doing?”

The lead weight that always seemed to be in his gut got heavier. He knew the question was a kind one, but he would rather no one ever ask it again. Every visit with his mom produced the same mix of guilt, anger, and sadness. There was no way he would burden anyone with that. Each visit to Mom was a challenge to his natural optimism and a test of his faith. Since the day that he flew home to Maine in a panic, not knowing what the stroke might have done to her, he had watched his mother lay in her hospital bed or sit in her wheelchair and stare into space, maybe mumbling a few phrases if it was a good day, as the weeks, months, and now years went by.
“She's about the same,” he offered flatly.

“And how are you?”

How was he? Useless. That was the honest answer to Pete's question. Only a miracle would change his mother's condition, and despite the thousands of prayers sent up, God had said ‘No’. Each visit he made was fruitless and demoralizing.
“I'm about the same too, I guess.”

“Hmm. Saw you signed up to coach basketball again. Were you up at the school to meet with Erin Sullivan?”
Dan's stomach did a strange flip. “Uh, sort of.” The image of Erin dancing popped into his head only to be replaced by her expression of surprise and fear when she had spotted him standing there. “I'm surprised she chose teaching as her vocation. It must be a challenge with her shyness.”

Pete looked at him like he had two heads and both were spinning. “Shyness?”

“Yeah, she's super shy. She doesn't say a word to me unless she has to. She’s said more to me in an email than she ever has in real life.”

Pete gave him an odd look, shook his head, and muttered, “Sometimes it's the bright ones . . .” But he didn't bother to explain. "Your best bet is to talk to Erin. See if you can make her more comfortable around you. Put a little effort in."
Dan didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure there was any point in going out of his way to befriend Erin. She was going to a new church so he saw little of her now. Strangely, that thought made him feel wistful.

As the minutes ate up the miles out to Pete's house, Dan thought about Erin. It made sense that she was a dancer since she had a fluid kind of grace. It was beautiful the way her hair moved with her. He imagined it was soft and silky. Immediately, he shook the thought off. Nothing good could come of contemplating the beauty of a woman so unsuitable for the kind of life he wanted. He wasn't sure how much longer he would stay in Sweet River. His heart yearned to return to India. Sometimes he would dream he was back at the mission, in the heat and the spicy air. When he woke from those dreams, it was always with a stab of disappointment that they weren’t real.

Someone as shy and delicate as Erin wouldn’t be able to handle a place like West Bengal. Besides the spiritual element, it took both emotional and physical strength to handle foreign missions. In the years that he had been home, he hadn't met anyone he thought was prepared for the harsh realities of the climate, the living conditions, or the work. He wasn't going to make a wife miserable for his own comfort, so he had stayed single, content with his current vocation. He never longed for anyone.

At least not until today, until he had seen her smile and her large blue eyes, and had suddenly felt that hit of desire—something he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. Pete had to be nuts suggesting he talk to her. It would be best if he left her as alone as she apparently wanted to be. What would be the point of pursuing her if he ended up going back into missions anyway?

But later that night, long after he'd dropped off Pete, after he’d sat through his meetings, after he'd heated a frozen pizza and ate it watching a Celtics game, he could not get her out of his head.

Order Now!

<< Go Back