Authors: Nicole O'Dell
Chapter 31
It must have been very difficult for Olivia to confront her mom like that. What might you have said or done differently?
Holding people accountable is part of God’s calling for Christians.
“If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses.”
(Matthew 18:15–16
ESV)
How has Olivia followed that biblical guideline without even really knowing it?
Chapter 32
What if Olivia’s mom had died in the standoff? Would that have meant that Olivia was right about God?
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose
. (Romans 8:28
NIV)
How do you think Romans 8:28 applies to God’s intervention with Olivia’s mom?
Chapter 33
So everything gets better. Olivia’s mom is safe. Her evil stepfather is dead. She finds Jesus. Then she gets an oboe and a scholarship. It’s all too good to be true, isn’t it? What’s the one thing that still bothers her?
What do you feel insecure about?
Do you think it makes sense for Olivia to offer her mom forgiveness? What did she need to be forgiven for?
Chapter 34
There are things Olivia has to resolve to do on her own, like being committed to her personal prayer times, even if her friends don’t want to.
What things in your life remind you of that?
What do you do about it?
Olivia is a little worried about being on her own away from Diamond Estates. Do you think those concerns are reasonable and helpful? Why or why not?
Chapter 35
Think of Ju-Ju, Skye, Tricia, and Olivia.
What types of backgrounds do they come from?
Where is each of them in their walk with God?
What kinds of different roads did they take to get there?
Is it okay to travel different paths to arrive at the same goal: Jesus?
Chapter 36
What is the significance of the pearl necklace?
What do you think happens next in Olivia’s life?
How have you been challenged through this book?
Here’s a sneak peak at book 2 in the Diamond Estates series:
THE EMBITTERED RUBY
I
f only heaven and hell shared the same zip code,” Carmen Castillo sputtered into her cell phone as she huddled on the rusty fire escape. Anything for privacy. Even if it did put her at risk of a drive-by.
“You having a tough day, babe?”
“To say the least. I mean, I’m stuck here in Hackensack, New Jersey—some weird version of Hades on Earth. You’re still in Briarcliff Manor, New York, otherwise known as Heaven.”
“Let’s pretend. Close those gorgeous brown eyes and lay that pretty face on my chest. Now I’m squeezing. Do you feel it?”
Ah. Nate McConnell’s deep, velvety voice massaged the tension from her body. Her fingers tingled as she imagined stroking the prickly stubble on his face and then running them through his blond buzz cut. Next she tried to envision her dark waves lying across his thick biceps. That didn’t quite work. “It’s surreal. It’s like I’m watching someone else’s life fall apart on a TV special. Except it’s mine. All mine.”
Silence.
What could he say to her, after all? Carmen knew he loved her. They’d been together since Nate’s junior year and her freshman year. Her move must have hurt him, too—but obviously not like it had destroyed her. He still lived in luxury and kept the same elite zip code they’d both enjoyed all their lives. And he clearly wasn’t hurting enough to fight for her. But really, what did she expect him to do? Marry her? Yeah right. Like his parents would go for that. They barely tolerated Nate’s dating Carmen because of her Mexican heritage—though they didn’t know their disdain was so obvious.
Carmen wondered if his mom lay in bed at night and whispered, “Well, at least she’s half white,” as she tucked her silk sheets around her feet. Then Nate’s dad would turn out the light and mumble, “Yes, thank the Lord for small favors.”
Finally, Nate cleared his throat. “So where’s everyone else?”
“You mean you can’t hear the construction racket? I can barely think over the hammering and drilling. Mom and Kimberley are in my—er,
our
—room setting up … get this: bunk beds. Bunk beds? You’ve got to be kidding. I get to play Rock, Paper, Scissors with my little sister over who gets the top bunk. After never having shared a room for a day in my life.”
“Yeah. That must be a pain. I wouldn’t like sharing with Charlie.”
“At least your little brother is cute and you can kind of overlook his immaturity because he’s only three. Kimberley, well, she’s a spoiled brat. I’d almost rather share with Harper. She’s only ten, so she falls asleep early and is still kind of cute.” Carmen peered around the cracks to peek in the window. “Speaking of Kim, there she goes now. Towel across her shoulder, off to take a bath in the claw-foot tub. Would you believe she sees that as an adventure?”
“She’s only thirteen. Give her a break maybe?” Nate’s words sounded clipped.
Carmen gritted her teeth against her turbulent emotions.
Bet he’s glad he called
. “I’m sorry. I’m being horrible company. I can let you go and talk to you later.”
“Okay. You know I love ya, babe. But if you want to go, that’s fine.” The lilt in his voice gave away his relief. “Give me a call when you feel like it.”
It wasn’t at all what she wanted. What Carmen really wanted was a genie in a bottle to grant her three wishes. She’d even take just one wish. Or some ruby slippers.
There’s no place like home
. But if she couldn’t have that, she’d take time with her boyfriend. Was that too much to ask the universe? Carmen stared at the lifeless phone in her hand.
Apparently
.
How would she see Nate anymore? Maybe she could talk her parents into letting her live with Dad. Ugh. No matter how bad Hackensack was, it couldn’t be as bad as being around Dad’s girlfriend, Tiffany, and her pom-poms. Tiffany, who turned simple, everyday tasks into a cheer. “The coffee’s … ready? Okay!”
Rah, rah. Gag
. But Tiffany wouldn’t be around forever. No way. At least not if Carmen could help it.
Not ready to go back inside, Carmen closed her eyes. Maybe if she could imagine hard enough, she’d think she was back home taking a dip in the pool or soaking in the hot tub. She breathed air deep into her lungs, expecting the familiar smell of the cedar planks in the sauna. Instead, exhaust fumes from the buses and grease from the diner across the street attacked her senses.
No use.
Carmen slipped her phone into the pocket of her jeans and pried herself from the stucco wall she’d been leaning against. Crumbling plaster pelted the metal grid of the fire escape and then rained onto the street below.
A whistle pierced the din of street traffic.
Shielding her eyes against the sun, Carmen squinted up the street. Nothing there but two old men on a bus stop bench outside the drugstore. Down the street, little kids played on the uneven sidewalk. Where had that whistle come from? Finally, her gaze settled on four menacing teens leaning on the lamppost across the street. One dark pair of eyes drew hers like magnets. He cocked his head and stared holes into Carmen’s flaming cheeks.
Shirtless, he touched the black and gold bandanna tied around his bulging bicep. Then he shifted position, and Carmen saw the largest tattoo she’d ever seen in person. A huge lion head with a five-pointed crown on its head was inked on his right side, starting at his ribs and winding around to the middle of his back.
Carmen’s eyes roved to take in the dress of the others. All black and gold. The tattoos among them too numerous to count. Latin Kings.
Did that mean …? Oh, yep. There it was. A polished handle stuck out of the waistband of the tallest of the group. How many of the others had guns?
Great. Now she was alone on a narrow fire escape, in a place God had forgotten about, being leered at by a gang. Carmen wanted to be safe inside huddled on her bunk bed, but she had frozen under their glares. Too scared to move—too afraid to appear nervous or show any sign of weakness. What were they doing there outside her apartment? More importantly, why were they watching her?
The leader snapped his fingers, and a cigarette appeared at his lips. Another pair of hands flicked a lighter, and it sparked to life. He took a long drag and blew out the smoke in slow motion. Then he winked one dark eye at her and ran his tongue along his lips.
Carmen shivered as goose bumps speckled her body from head to toe. She flung the sliding door to the side and scurried back through the opening. She slid it shut, latched the lock, and lowered the bar until it clicked into place.
Don’t look. Don’t even turn around. Keep moving, and don’t look back
.
She could feel their laser-sharp gazes burning holes between her shoulder blades as she moved though the family room. A quick right and she was in the hallway. Three more steps to her room. Was she safe there? Were any of them?
Those jerks were going to be trouble. Carmen could feel it in her bones.
Main Street, Hackensack, New Jersey. Now there was a place to take a sightseeing tour. Carmen scuffed along the sidewalk, careful to avoid the side of the street where those guys had been standing and ogling her the day before. “Find a market,” Mom had said. Should have been easy enough.
Carmen walked past a run-down library that probably survived on nothing but castaway books from other libraries—like the one in Briarcliff. The grease smell from several hole-in-the-wall restaurants seemed to follow her down the street. And the gym boasted a life-size mural of a steroid junkie punching a bag.
There was no shortage of nail salons, barbershops, pawnshops, and lawyers’ offices. But a market? Maybe she could ask someone for directions. She lifted her eyes just enough to peek around for a friendly-looking pedestrian, but from the looks of things, she’d better explore on her own. She reached in her pocket and gripped her cell phone … just in case.
Ah. There, across the street, Giant Farmers’ Market. That should do it. Carmen waited for a car to pass and then jogged to the other side. Her head down, she pulled the glass door open and stepped inside. As her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting, she glanced around the store. Now, this place had some merit. Fresh. Bright. Almost happy.
Piles of colorful produce. Artichokes, chutney, guava, pomegranate. Some things even she didn’t recognize. Wow. The Latin aisle alone boasted rows and rows of bottles Carmen had never seen. Ethnic oddities, rare herbs, and … um … pig ears? Those might have to wait for another time. This was supposed to be a “milk, eggs, bread” kind of shopping trip. Maybe, since there was nothing else to do around here, she’d be able to practice for culinary school.
Thirty minutes later, Carmen hurried back to the apartment with plastic bags dangling from her wrists, cutting off her circulation. She’d had enough culture for one day. Odd, though—no one glanced her way as she shuffled along. Didn’t she stand out at all? Couldn’t they tell she didn’t belong here—that it wasn’t her home? Probably a good thing she blended in. Not like Kimberley, who was blond like their dad. Wonder how it would be for her?
Dead bolt. Lock. Second lock. The door swung open three inches then jerked. She shoved her face into the opening to see into the room. “Hey. Can someone come take the chain off the door so I can get in? These bags are getting heavy.”
Little Harper cartwheeled across the room, her tongue poking through the space where her tooth had once been. “Coming.” She closed the door and slid the chain off before skipping toward the kitchen.
Did that girl ever walk?
Carmen rushed through the door, reached her foot back to nudge it shut, then hurried to the galley kitchen. She heaved her packages onto the gold-flecked countertop and freed her wrists from the bags. Red rings remained where they’d cut into her skin. “Phew. I thought I was going to drop something.
Where’s Mom?”
“In your room.” Harper flashed a dimpled smile and bounded down the short hallway.
Carmen took a deep breath before entering her room. She’d been a real grump lately. Maybe surprising Mom would help make up for some of her bad attitude. “Hey, Mom. I’m back.” She stepped over the tools and packing material strewn across the stained and tattered carpet of her bedroom. After all, it wasn’t Mom’s fault they’d had to move into the dingy apartment. Which was probably rat infested. And should be condemned.
Well … not entirely Mom’s fault anyway. There had to have been a place across the river they could have rented. Yeah, yeah. This was close to Mom’s new job. Affordable. Carmen had heard it all. But did she buy it? She just hoped they hadn’t been dragged out to never-never land to make Dad feel guilty.