A Mother's Promise. Ruth Scofield

We’re contracting with Buck’s Barbecue for lunch, but we’ll still need some set-up and clean-up help.”

      After that, Michael launched into the serious side of the meeting. He gave a message from Romans, and Lisa stilled her wandering thoughts to concentrate.

      “Most of us in this group are reaching for higher gains now, more than just the material things that topped our list of needs in our twenties and thirties. We’ve somehow missed the narrow road.

      “Those decades have also shown us how vulnerable we are to human mistakes. What the Bible calls sin. We’ve discovered our own weaknesses and deeper needs, and often we are anxious or depressed, and we’re desperate to feel God’s love and forgiveness. I’d like to remind you all that loving us is what God does.

      “As we wrap up the evening, let’s go home with these words from Romans 8:35-39. ‘Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

      ‘As it is written, For Your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.

      ‘No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.

      ‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’”

      Nothing? Lisa wondered. Not even her sins? The thought was reassuring, as Beth Anne had told her.

      But what about this terrible thirst for revenge?

      Lisa pushed the thought down, along with all the ugly reasons for feeling that she was unlovable. She clung to the soothing words of love and forgiveness. Perhaps Beth Anne was right about her needing this group.

      They adjourned for coffee and refreshments, which were set up toward the back of the room. It was someone’s birthday, and Pam had brought a cake. Everyone made a production of singing “Happy Birthday,” then the people milled around, talking among themselves.

      Lisa glanced at her watch. This was the point at which she wanted to run. She had to be home by ten, anyway. But with Beth Anne’s eagle eye on her, she didn’t have a chance to slip out unnoticed. When Cindy came up to speak with Beth Anne, Lisa nodded and smiled, then moved to stand at the end of the table.

      Ten minutes. Then she’d leave.

      “So it’s Lisa, huh? What’s the last name again?” Lisa turned to see Ethan standing behind her. She noted his brown eyes had warm amber glints, like the amber earrings she’d once owned.

      “Marley.”

      “I’m Ethan Vale.” He picked up a foam cup and offered, “Coffee?”

      “No, thanks.” She glanced at the exit. Five. She’d give it five minutes more.

      “You don’t drink coffee?”

      “Sure. Sometimes.”

      “But you don’t want any now? Actually, I like to watch my caffeine intake, too. Does it keep you awake? I can get you something else.”

      “No. Um, thank you.” Her truck keys made a nice satisfying lump in her denim pocket. If she left now, she’d have time to run by Aunt Katherine’s house. Just to look at it. These days, she could come and go at her own choosing—as long as she was home before curfew.

      “I think the kitchen has a supply of tea,” Ethan said. His inviting gaze urged her to make her request known. “Or lemonade wouldn’t bother you. How about some cake?”

      “No, thanks.”

      “Why not? You can’t be one of those women always on a diet.” His quick glance down her form-fitting jeans held an admiring glint.

      “You can’t be one of those men who never turns down a sweet,” she countered. Everything extra she ate went right to her hips, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

      “Aw, come on. It’s chocolate.”

      “So?”

      “So, chocolate is one of my favorite vegetables, and I always eat my vegetables.”

      Yeah, this guy thought he was cute, all right. At least two of the other women thought so, too, from the envious glances tossed her way.

      “Thanks, but no thanks,” she muttered. “I have to go.”

      Giving Beth Anne a quick wave, she made a beeline for the double doors.

      Ethan followed her. “Hey, I’ll walk you to your car.”

      “You don’t have to bother. I’m used to being on my own.”

      “Really?” He opened the outside door and allowed her to precede him. “No boyfriend?”

      “No.” The thought of anyone in their age group having “boyfriends” or “girlfriends” seemed ludicrous to her.

      Never mind, she thought. Engaging in useless conversation that passed as flirting was another habit she’d given up. Besides, her mind kept jumping ahead. She wanted to race across the parking lot and gun the truck’s engine into action. Why had she thought it an advantage to park in the corner space?

      “Did you just move here or something?” Ethan asked as they made their way across the lot.

      “Yes…no. I, um, just moved to Independence.”

      “I used to live in Kansas City. In Westport. But now I live here in River’s Edge. Hey, want to do a movie on Saturday?”

      Lisa climbed into the truck and held her breath as she turned the key in the ignition. She sighed in relief when the engine started. Uncle Fred insisted the truck ran like a top, in spite of the body rust.

      Would Aunt Katherine allow her in the house at this hour?

      “So how about it?” Ethan’s tone cut into her thoughts.

      “Um…can’t. Have to go, really. Nice meeting you, Ethan.”

      “Okay. See you next Thursday.”

      “Sure, sure….”

      Maybe.

      Chapter Two

      Katherine Barge, the woman Lisa had called “aunt” all her life, was really her mother’s cousin. She and her husband, Mark, lived in a forty-year-old ranch-style house in Kansas City. They’d been the only ones Lisa’s mother, Betty, could turn to for any kind of help during Lisa’s troubled youth, and they’d grudgingly given Lisa a home for a while. But Katherine’s help always carried a heavy dose of look-at-all-I’ve-done-for-you grievances and warnings of dire consequences to pay if Betty didn’t find some backbone to cope with life.

      Her mother never had, Lisa admitted.

      Then it became “if Lisa doesn’t mend her ways…” Katherine also berated Betty’s weakness when it came to disciplining her daughter.

      Katherine enumerated Betty’s failings over supper almost every night. If Betty hadn’t chosen to marry that no-good lowlife, Rick—against her very sound advice, Katherine usually included—then she wouldn’t find herself in such a bind now. If Betty had stood up to that bully, she wouldn’t have sustained the black eyes or broken arms or been abandoned. If Betty would only snap out of this so-called depression and get a job, then she could make it on her own.

      Katherine’s list stretched to include Lisa. Her teenage transgressions piled higher as the months dragged out. She didn’t clean the kitchen properly. Her skirts and her shorts were too short, her hair was worn too wild. She took forever at her homework, keeping the household up late. And if she continued to hang out with that crazy wild kid down the street, she’d find trouble.

      What Katherine complained of most was the way the boys looked at Lisa.

      Lisa’s