A Test of Faith (26 page)

“You speak to her with
respect
.”

“Right!” Faith threw the carrot she’d been holding at the sink. It bounced off the counter and spun onto the floor. “I have to
show
respect, but I don’t
get
it.”

“Faith!”

Anne heard the warning in Jared’s tone, but Faith was on a roll. “Faith, fix your hair. Faith, change your clothes. Faith, do the dishes. Do this, do that!” She stomped around the kitchen. “Why am I the only one around here who does any work?”

She pointed at Anne. “
She
comes home from work and falls asleep in her chair or on the couch.” She crossed her arms over her heaving chest. “I’m not your daughter, I’m your
slave
.
At least you could have had more kids so I’d have someone to help me!”

Anne had had enough. More than enough. Ten times more than enough. “You need to take a break and calm down.”

Faith made an exaggerated bow. “Yes, Master. Whatever you say, Master.”

“Faith Adelle, I swear—”

A harsh laugh cut through the room. “No, you don’t. You never do. You’re too
holy
.”

“That’s
it
!”

Faith shrank back against the wall, staring at her father. Anne understood the sudden alarm on her daughter’s face. Faith had never seen her father so angry—but then, neither had Anne. Suddenly the rebel vanished as acute remorse washed over the girl’s features. Anne had the fleeting impression even Faith was shocked at how far she’d gone this time.

And suddenly, there, standing in front of them, was their little girl, the Faith they used to know, a daughter who adored her father and was brokenhearted at a harsh word from him.

Anne’s heart constricted, and she put her arms around her daughter. “Faith …”

“Daddy, I’m sor—”

Jared put up a hand, halting both Faith and Anne. “Go to your room, Faith.”

“But Daddy—”

The cold, cutting glare he gave their daughter sent shock fluttering through Anne. As did the tone of his voice. Hard. Rigid. Utterly void of warmth. “I don’t want to hear it. Right now, all I want is for you to go to your room before I say something we’ll both regret.”

Faith looked from her father to Anne, tears balancing on her lashes, lips trembling. “Mom …”

Anne’s heart shattered. She started toward Faith again, but Jared caught her arm, gave one abrupt shake of his head. “To your room. Now.”

The young girl’s tears flowed in earnest now. She pushed away from the wall and raced down the hallway. When the door slammed shut, Jared turned to take Anne in his arms. She
felt the shuddering breath that seemed to come from the depths of his heart.

Anne couldn’t speak. Could only hold him close, her face buried in his chest.

His bewilderment flowed in low, hoarse words. “She seemed so much happier after camp. Wasn’t she better?”

Anne nodded.

“I thought … I thought things were better.
She
was better.” His arms convulsed around Anne. This was tearing him apart.

“She was better, for a while. But something happened.”

He leaned his head against the top of her head. “We’re losing her, Annie.” His broken, ragged voice was choked with tears. “We’re losing our little girl, and I don’t even know why.”

Anne squeezed her eyes shut, as though to close out the reality of what was happening.
Help us, Lord
. She drew in her breath on a sob.
You’re the only One who can
.

eighteen

“I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU LET THAT WITCH GET TO YOU.”

Trista flicked the ashes from her cigarette, the sparks dancing in the darkness.

Faith dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt, her hands gripping the thick metal chains on the swing. Though Lincoln Elementary had closed down several years ago, the city kept the playground open, making it into a park.

Faith was glad. She loved these swings. They reminded her of being little. Of being happy.

Of being liked. By her mom.

Yeah, she’d be crazy about you if she knew where you were right now
.

Faith clenched her jaw and stared into the darkness. So what? So she’d snuck out. So it was almost two in the morning. Big deal. She’d been doing it for months now, and her parents were none the wiser. She’d been so nervous at first, so sure she’d get caught. But it was easy. No need to battle with her parents, to do the screaming fits. Just come and go as she pleased.

And times like today, when they sent her to her room? No
problem. She shut the lights off, put pillows under the covers to look like she was sleeping, and out the window she went. A step off the half roof to the big tree beside it, and within seconds she was on the ground, ready to go.

And I’m not gonna feel guilty about it anymore, either
.

She’d never admitted it to Trista or Dustin, but as much as she figured she had the right to do what she wanted, she couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Until today. After the way Mom and Dad talked to her…

Hurt lodged in her chest, right behind the breastbone, as she remembered their voices, their anger.

Their disappointment.

“So?”

Faith turned at Trista’s demand. “So … what?”

Trista rolled her eyes. “So why do you let her get to you?”

Faith wished she knew. But she didn’t. She didn’t understand it at all. “She just does, okay?”

With a flip of her long, blonde hair back over one slim shoulder, Trista shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, it’s stupid, you know? Your mom should accept you for who you are, not keep trying to make you something different.” She shifted in her swing. “And all that talk about God and church. I mean, what’s up with that?”

Faith looked away. “Nothing’s
up
with it. She talks about it because she believes it.”

“Yeah? So why isn’t she living it? I mean, isn’t she supposed to love you … what’s that word they use all the time?” She waved her hands in the air. “Unconditionally. So, why doesn’t she love you like that?”

Faith opened her mouth to argue, to tell Trista she was way off base, then she shut it. How could she argue? Her parents
didn’t
love her that way. Not that Faith could see.

“
I
accept you that way.” Trista’s cajoling voice wrapped itself around Faith, spreading fingers of resentment through her heart, her soul. “And so does he.”

He?
Faith followed Trista’s gaze, and in the glow of the streetlight saw Dustin walking toward them with that long-legged stride of his. His bike sat on the street. Man. She’d been
so inside her head she hadn’t even heard him drive up.

“Yeah … from the expression on his face, I’d say he likes you
fine
the way you are.”

Trista’s slow grin—and the gleam in Dustin’s electric eyes as he drew close, his smile all for Faith—brought a quick surge of heat to Faith’s cheeks. Her heart constricted. Trista was right.
She
accepted Faith. So did Dustin. It was her stupid parents who were self-righteous and judgmental.

“Hey, babe.” Dustin leaned down, weaving his fingers in her hair, and brushed his lips against her cheek.

Faith reached up. Caught his face with her hands. He hesitated, his eyes locked with hers.

No kissing? It made sense when she was young and stupid.

Now she knew better.

She slid her hands across Dustin’s cheeks, linked her fingers at the back of his head. Urged him forward.

His gaze slid to her mouth, and a smile crept across his lips. He cupped her face, his thumb caressing the line of her jaw, and his mouth covered hers with a hunger that made her tremble.

She gave herself freely to the passion of the long, delicious kiss, losing herself in the rush of heady emotion coursing through her.

Who needed rules?
This
was all that mattered. Feeling this way. Being held. Being cherished.

Being Dustin’s.

When he raised his head, Faith caught Trista’s look. She didn’t need to say a word for Faith to understand.

See? I told you so
.

Faith punched Trista in the arm, and she chuckled.

“Hey, is that any way to treat your best friend?” Dustin leaned against the swing frame, watching them with a half smile as he pulled his cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket.

“It is when she’s bugging me.”

One brow rose, and he looked at Faith over the flame touching the tip of his cigarette. “Bugging you?”

Trista pushed off, sending her swing soaring. “You talk to
her, Dustin. I’m not getting anywhere.”

He took a long drag and lifted his face to the sky, blowing a stream of smoke into the air, watching it rise like wispy fingers reaching to the sky. Then he lowered his head to meet Faith’s gaze, and his half-lidded expression made her fidget. “Let me guess. We’re talking about the nag again?”

Trista’s giggle drifted around them, and Faith looked away.

“You got it.” Trista’s voice grew louder then fainter as she swung past Faith. “I’ve been saying Faith’s mom should accept her the way you and I do, as she is. If she really loved her.”

A pang sliced through Faith. “Of
course
she loves me. She’s my mom.”

Oh, yeah. That was lame
. A glance at Trista and Dustin told Faith they thought so, too.

Trista’s long, slim fingers waggled at her as she swung by, waving the stupid words away. “Yeah … okay. Whatever. Your mommy loves you, as you are.” The mockery in Trista’s tone drew Faith’s fingers into fists on the chain of the swing.

“Hey, Dustin, you gonna share?”

He pushed away from the swing set, tapped a cigarette out of the pack, then held it and the lighter high. Trista snatched them as she went past. Faith watched her light the cigarette on the fly, then toss the lighter back to Dustin.

“You’re welcome.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then looked at Faith again. “It just, you know, seems like a total waste of time to let her get to you. I mean, so she’s your mom. So what? They get pregnant and have you, so they think they own you?” She took a long drag on her cigarette, then blew out the smoke, leaving a trail in the air as she swung.

Like those ice crystal trails a jet leaves behind as it slices through the air, way up in the sky…

Dustin snorted. “Like anyone wants to own you, Trista.”

“Hey!” She flicked ashes at him. “Doesn’t matter what they want. Nobody owns me.”

Faith shook her head at her friends and pushed off, swinging high into the sky, staring up at the stars. If only she could really fly, really soar away, free…

Like Trista. She was free to do what she wanted, when she wanted. No one gave her the third degree about where she was going, who she’d be with, when she’d be home.

Faith closed her eyes, face turned up to the night. Why couldn’t her parents be more like Trista’s? She kicked the dirt again as she swung by.
Why can’t they leave me alone?

A wicked laugh coaxed Faith’s eyes open. Trista had stopped swinging, and the grin on her face was pure trouble.

Faith braked her own swing and came to a stop beside her friend. “What?”

“Your mom.” Trista waggled her perfectly plucked brows at Faith. “Wouldn’t she have a cow if you didn’t come home tonight?”

Didn’t come …?

Dustin came to stand behind Faith, one hand smoothing her hair, caressing the side of her neck. “I like the sound of that.”

Trista’s smile grew. “Yeah. Think about it. No phone calls. No asking permission. You don’t show.”

Dustin let out a whoop. “Perfect! Let her sit there and wonder where you are.”

Faith started to comment, but Trista cut her off. “Will she ever see you again? Will the last words you said to each other be angry ones? And the longer you’re gone, the higher her fear gets—” she flicked her cigarette into the air, watching it arc and fall, leaving a trail of red sparks in the darkness—“until she turns into a little puddle of panic.”

Trista clutched her hands in front of her, filling her features and tone with an exaggerated sorrow. “Oh, what have I done? How could I have been so mean to my poor, sweet little girl?”

Dustin’s appreciative chuckle surrounded Faith. When he laughed like that, deep in his throat, it did funny things to her. Made her feel good and worried all at the same time.

His hands lifted her hair off her neck, and she felt him letting it fall through his fingers. “This could be great.”

“Yeah.” Trista nodded and pushed off, setting her swing in motion again. “That’d teach her good. Leave you alone or lose
you.” She grinned at Faith. “Bet she’d keep her mouth shut then.”

Faith liked the sound of that.

Dustin’s hands covered hers on the swing, the strength of his fingers making her feel protected, cared for.

Loved.

His hands slid down, gripping the swing near the seat. He pulled her, swing and all, back and up, holding her there, suspended in the air for a moment. She felt his breath, warm and tantalizing, as he whispered in her ear. “Ready to fly, baby?”