The First Love Of Alipang Havens

Elizabeth's next words were carefully chosen. "Had he given you any sign that he was getting restless?"

Lorraine finished her tea, then answered, "Not unless it counts that he was annoyed at me for thinking so much about Quinn--especially after Quinn started pressing me about religion. But now I'm realizing something I never noticed before: Craig never talked to me about what made him decide he wanted to leave his first wife. Maybe he was looking around for a long time before leaving her; and maybe he was also looking around for a long time before..."

The adulteress, now served her own medicine, stopped in mid-sentence. Her eyes narrowed, yet didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. Elizabeth wondered if Lorraine were feeling anger at Craig, or embarrassment at how much of her story she had revealed to strangers, or--which seemed least likely--genuine shame for her own misdeeds.

"Lorraine, do you, um...plan to fight to get Craig back?"

"Not after the things he--no, I don't."

The hint was there in Lorraine's eyes that this time _plenty_ was being left untold. Watching her, listening to her, Elizabeth did not believe that any physical abuse had occurred; but there must at least have been a nasty scene recently. Then Elizabeth asked: "What will this do to your income?"

Lorraine's eyes grew more normal. "We have a pre-nuptial agreement. I get a condo to live in, and some money, but not a whole lot. I wasn't worried about that at the time; I thought it was true love with Craig. And I was so glad to be getting away from Wilson and his...well, the point is, I was grateful for the chance to fulfill myself, so I didn't worry about a new divorce that I was sure would never happen."

"It would seem you didn't. But while I said I was willing to talk for any constructive purpose, pardon me, but I don't see what my knowing your situation does to help you deal with it."

Lorraine's eyes narrowed again, this time looking as if close to tears.

"Quinn," she groaned, and paused. When her eyes were fully open again, she went on: "My son is all I have left now. I _really_ want to see him. Do you think your church could talk Wilson into letting me see Quinn?"

"Mr. Kramer isn't a member of our church; he's Baptist."

"Don't I know it! That--! Excuse me, I mean your church still has a lot of people who know him. If you told him that I sacrificed my new marriage because of how much I love my boy..."

"If we told Mr. Kramer that," replied Elizabeth, "we just might be giving you too much credit. By your own telling, you weren't and aren't certain that Craig left you _because_ you wanted to see Quinn."

Lorraine averted her gaze. "Busted. You got me."

"When you're busted," said Elizabeth, "you need Jesus to 'get' you."
 
Lorraine stood, fishing in her purse. "Here....This card has both my cellphone number, and the landline phone at my condo. If you folks are for real with your Christian compassion, you'll call me whenever you find any way to help me reach out to my boy." As an unconvincing afterthought, she added, "Thank you for letting me come over. Goodnight."

When she was gone, Betsy blew out an incredulous breath. "Quinn Kramer belongs to that woman about as much as the Baudelaire children belonged to Count Olaf."

"Right," said her mother. "She reminds me of what Dr. Havens says about welfare patients he treats at the Free Clinic--the ones who think he _owes_ them the voluntary aid he renders at a sacrifice to himself. I would think that having her own back stabbed with her own knife would wake Lorraine up. Apparently not."

"What do you think it _will_ take, Mom?"

"I'm afraid to think."


On Saturday morning, having been filled in on the peculiar visit by the peculiar divorcee, Kim undertook to make a call to Mr. Kramer. She didn't have Alipang with her anyway; Saturday morning Escrima classes had resumed, and both Alipang and Chilena were at Master Pitik's house. When Mr. Kramer answered, Kim didn't keep him guessing about the pretext for the call.

"Mr. Kramer, this is Kim Tisdale. I need to tell you that we got a surprise last night. Your ex-wife came to our house, wanting to talk with my Mom."

"Say what?? Lorraine was _there?_ What could she have wanted?"

Kim hated to be the one to give the answer, although Lorraine's apparent circumstances could not be helping her much with any underhanded schemes affecting Quinn Kramer. "She wants access to your son. She has grown more anxious about this ever since...Craig left her for another woman over the holidays."

 
Wilson Kramer had kept his head with bullets flying around him in the Middle East and Latin America; and he kept his head now. "Did she talk as if time were short for her to see Quinn? Is she moving away someplace?"

"I don't think so," Kim replied. "She gave us a card that indicates her present living quarters to be in the Washington Beltway area, not too far from us."

"Thanks for telling me this, Kim. If you or your Mom speak to Lorraine again, you can tell her that I'm willing to let her see Quinn, under conditions of MY choosing, provided Quinn wishes it. And I think he will wish it, because he was just getting started sharing the faith with his mother."

"That gives a direction for our prayers, then."

Wilson smiled at a thought. "Tell me, Kim, does your plural possessive pronoun take in a certain young Mr. Havens we know?"

"Yes, it does, sir. Alipang and I--well, you might say we're finding our way. With Jesus in the picture."

"I'm glad for you, Kim."


Lorraine, meanwhile, came close to having to face Jesus before she was ready. Driving back north on Interstate 95, she was forced off the road by a truck whose reckless driver was an illegal alien. As the trucker sped obliviously on, listening to salsa music, Lorraine had her own shrieks of terror to listen to when her car whacked a piece of barrier, then tilted and rolled over on the roadside. It came to rest upside down; but fortunately, it didn't burst into flames as it would have done in an action movie.

The first bypasser to do anything for her was a young man driving southbound. Pulling his own car out of traffic, he ran across to the accident scene as soon as he safely could. He found Lorraine still belted in behind the airbag, but the car not so crushed as to trap her inside. Once he had her word that she didn't think she was badly hurt--apart from bruising caused by the airbag itself--he used a pocketknife to deflate the airbag, and helped the woman extricate herself from the shoulder harness and from the overturned car.

As much out of the way of passing traffic as he could manage, the young man spread his coat on the ground for the woman to lie down on. Pulling one edge of the coat over her, he then cellphoned the highway patrol. The woman was in good enough condition to ask his name while they waited for help to show up.

"My name's Mike Jakekens, ma'am."

The biological brother of Chilena Havens didn't know Lorraine from Lady Galadriel; but he was going to have a story to tell when he paid his planned surprise visit to the Havens family. And she asked him enough questions to have an idea of his connections in Smoky Lake.

Lorraine did end up going to an emergency room to be safe, but she would soon be released. One of her former co-workers came to pick her up. Lorraine told this woman very little about her initial rescuer; but Mike Jakekens had left her something to think about...for the youth had spoken of God, thanking Him for Lorraine's survival.
 
When Mike arrived at the Havens home for his surprise visit, the surprise was on him. Chilena was out with Dan, and Alipang was waiting on tables at the Filipino restaurant. But the visit wasn't wasted; Mike had the sight of a powerfully pregnant Cecilia Havens. Also, he was able to tell Dr. and Mrs. Havens about his adventure on the Interstate, and by what he told, they were able to figure out whom it was that he had helped.

He read a storybook to Harmony, and lost a chess game to Melody, declaring that this showed the merits of homeschooling. Only after the little girls were put to bed did Eric Havens tell Mike about Alipang's unwanted adventure on Christmas Eve. Astonished, Mike asked, "How do kids at East High feel about it?"

"Some of them are actually _afraid_ of my son," Cecilia told him. "Did you ever hear anything so ridiculous? Alipang is as kind and sweet as he ever was! The only change is in the minds of people around him." Alipang's mother felt no irony in what she was saying; she was forgetting that she herself had once found him frightening.

Eric added, "I hear that now _nobody_ dares to behave rudely at the Pansit Paradise. What's more, Master Pitik has officially made Alipang an assistant Escrima instructor."

There was more conversation, with Mike bringing his hosts up to date on his parents' doings. Eric and Cecilia pressed him to stay overnight, rather than hit the road for home so late, and in winter besides. Thus, with his parents made aware of the stayover, Mike was around when Dan brought Chilena home. Talking with Dan gave the visitor a glimpse of his birth sister's life through her boyfriend's eyes.

Alipang had not yet come home (though a phone call to the restaurant had informed him of Mike's presence) when Dr. and Mrs. Havens retired for the night. Chilena was about to go to bed herself, when the sight of her biological brother trying out the famous downstairs-meeting couch brought a thought to her mind. "Mike, before you go to sleep, would you come upstairs with me, just to the landing? I want to show you something." So, clad in T-shirt and sweatpants just like Alipang (in fact, the sweatpants he was wearing _were_ Alipang's, though tight and short on him), Mike accompanied her.

No one, absolutely no mortal soul, would ever be told just how emotionally charged those dear downstairs meetings had been; but Chilena felt that Mike, who was not to blame for her severing from the Jakekens family, deserved to know a toned-down hint of it.

"Please sit close beside me on the top step....Good, next we hug. We're going to slide our fannies down step by step, without letting go of each other, till we reach the bottom."

On the floor at the bottom of the stairway, still in the embrace, Mike laughed and said, "That was nice, I guess; but what _were_ we doing?"

"That was something you missed out on: a stairway fight. By the way, I win, because I say I win."

Mike helped her to her feet, then let go of her. "I do envy Al. It must have been so much fun growing up with you as a sister."

Chilena sighed nostalgically. "Yeah, we had fun. Good night, Mike."

When Alipang came home, the house was dark. He whispered, "Mike? Just me, Alipang. We'll talk over breakfast, and at church if you can stay for it."

"Yes, I'll go to church with you," Mike replied.

A surprise awaited Alipang when he entered his room: the sound of a SSSSHHHHH, followed swiftly by Chilena pressing against him in the dark, sliding her arms around his neck, and drawing his mouth to her mouth as his arms reflexively went around her waist. This, the most emphatic kiss they had exchanged in some time, was followed by a whisper from Chilena: "I showed Mike what a stairway fight is, but just a mild version. He has a right to know something of how it's been for you and me; but the _real_ way it's been is still only for us and God to know."

They kissed again in the darkness...whispered love to each other...kissed yet another time...and then whispered goodnight, as Chilena sneaked out of Alipang's room.


~ ~ END OF PART TWENTY-ONE ~ ~​
 
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PART TWENTY-TWO:
NAVIGATING THE ROCKS​


Starting more than a week before Inauguration Day, Flora Lewiston directed the interior of Smoky Lake East High School to be ruthlessly plastered with leftover campaign posters advertising that successful candidate for whom the Principal had voted for absolutely no other reason but his skin color, never making the slightest effort to think through the likely results of his proposed policies. Teachers and students could barely see out any of the windows of the building now.

Yet Alipang Havens, though identical in skin color to the President-Elect, was unlike that man insomuch as Alipang WAS subject to having his beliefs and positions critiqued by Mrs. Lewiston. But this semester, the Principal's antipathy to the former homeschooler was destined actually to work in Alipang's favor.

A day came when Alipang was summoned to the Principal's office--and went gladly. On his way, he received thumbs-up signs from several persons who knew what was going on, including Wilson Kramer, Sammy Ashford, the Katon siblings, and Brendan Hyland. Kim Tisdale, also aware of the reason for the summons, had hugged him as a sign of sharing his optimism. So he breezed into the school's front office with a confidence which, on this occasion, was entirely justified.

"Have a seat, Al." Mrs. Lewiston had pre-placed the chair intended for him so it was farther from her desk than usual. She appeared to Alipang as if she were actually afraid of him; yet she had never seemed to be afraid of the selfish, predatory, sociopathic delinquents for whom she had long made excuses. Of course, none of those thugs had been Bible-believing Christians.

Alipang sat, resisting the impulse to slide the chair closer and see her flinch. "Thank you, ma'am. Have you had time to think over the suggestion my parents made?"

"I have, Al, and I think it has a good chance of working out for the best. If you can earn credits fast enough to graduate at the end of what would have been your junior year, that's one less person-year that has to be paid for; so the school board economizes while you benefit. How are your parents doing at lining up home-school equivalents for some of the senior courses you would normally take here?"

"Pretty well, ma'am. Calculus will be one. This summer will be highly productive, learning-wise." He would really be teaching himself whatever home courses Mom and Dad enrolled him in, so that Mom could concentrate on the new baby who would be on the scene by then. "And what has the school board said about allowing my native mastery of Tagalog to excuse me from the foreign-language requirement?"

Mrs. Lewiston smiled, more than half sincerely. "They've agreed on it." She was pleased with herself for the sales job she had done there. The local school board had members who were hardliners on Spanish first, Spanish last, and Spanish in between; but she had told them that Tagalog was really a dialect of Spanish, which was not totally false, only sort of inside-out. "So we almost have your requirements trimmed down enough to meet your goal. And the Vice-Principal came up with an idea to finish the process of making your higher courses this school year, plus next year plus this summer, equal two school years: waive your physical education requirement. In fact, he thinks we can let you drop out of THIS year's gym class and pick up Shop class a couple of weeks late. Then you can afford to take some elective next year just because you like it. I have agreed."

It stuck in Mrs. Lewiston's throat to let the boy skip gym classes on the strength of his being a martial artist and having outfought an adult gangster bigger than he; but this was her own area for self-restraint.

"I'll thank him on the way out, ma'am. I believe that will do it--and even without my needing to quit working at the Pansit Paradise. We'll notify you soon of all my courses for summer. Is there anything else, ma'am?"

"No, Al, you may return to study hall now."

"Thank you, ma'am." Alipang contendedly rose to go. Neither of them had mentioned something both of them knew: that Alipang's number-one motive to request this arrangement was a desire to cut in half that coming awkward period in which he would still be a highschool student while Kim Tisdale was already a college student.

Flora Lewiston was happy, too. This plan would enable her to get rid of Alipang in just one more year instead of two, yet not be injuring him.
 
On an evening not long after Alipang's meeting with Mrs. Lewiston, he and Kim arrived for work at the Pansit Paradise (Kim having picked up Alipang in her old white sedan), to be met with an announcement from Rafael Imada:

"The deal is closed! We _will_ have a branch operation at Rafferty's Truckstop! It will be a buffet setup, as we discussed last year. Do you two still feel up to running it?"

"We do!" Alipang and Kim answered in spontaneous unison, and laughed at the coincidence. Kim added, "Will there be an overlap with the truckstop's own workforce?"

"Yes, their cashiers will handle the money together with the already existing ice cream and fast-food operations. Members of my family will do the actual Filipino cooking. You two will only have to concern yourselves with getting customers into their booths, and food into the customers. Since you can't be expected to be there eighteen hours a day, seven days a week, Rafferty's will hire some part-timers to work under your joint direction."

"So there will be shifts when Kim and I _aren't_ on at the same time, won't there?" Alipang asked.

"Afraid so," Uncle Rafael admitted.

"That's the breaks." Alipang looked sidelong at Kim. "Good thing I don't like her that much." Then he ducked a swing of her arm, laughing. But he only laughed for a moment, as another question came to his mind. "Will we have to join a labor union to work at Rafferty's?"

"Not as things are currently," his boss told him. "But we have to see how 'Change' is going to change things."

For now, routine serving work still awaited the oddly-paired sweethearts. But an inspiring difference in the routine entered the restaurant in the form of Kim's moderate-Goth friend Peggy. Sitting where Kim would be her waitress, Peggy beckoned Kim to lean in so she could speak softly and semi-privately:

"I've been thinking a lot about what happened here on Christmas Eve. I've been thinking about just HOW different that was from being a super-mutant-Amazon-pirate-ninja in an online game. And I figured out, finally, that if I'm not as tough as I pretended I was....maybe I'm also not as _smart_ as I pretended I was. Maybe I need to do more learning and less posing."

Kim patted her friend's shoulder. "One of the smartest things anyone can do is to admit she needs to get smarter."

"Thanks, Kim. Now, um....who's a _male_ Christian you could name, that I maybe could learn some, you know, spiritual stuff from? Not that I'm turning around and saying women _can't_ teach me; but up to now I've been wanting _only_ women to teach me anything, and I think that needs to stop."

Kim smiled warmly. "I'll give you Pastor Stetzer's e-mail address. He's used to answering questions about the Lord; and he shows his wife Isobel all the e-mails he gets from young people, so you won't have to worry about her being suspicious."

That night after work, Alipang and Kim did not kiss even one time--Kim still was not excessively lavish in this department; but they did pray together for Peggy, which was a satisfaction in itself.
 
Great posts. Y'know there's nothing better than spending time in prayer or having a bible study with the one you love. My high school Bible teacher taught us how important it is to grow together in God. He equated it to a triangle. God being the top point of the triangle and the man and woman as the 2 bottom points. As they grow closer to God (going up the sides of the triangle) they, in turn, end up growing closer together.
 
The next time Eric Havens went to the Free Clinic to donate his dental skills, he found an unwelcome visitor there ahead of him: Rhoda Gardner, the public-radio hack with the program "Things To Consider," the same woman who last autumn had tried to smear the local Christian radio station for "hate speech." Ms. Gardner was now interviewing the people who were lined up for free care. Many of these were Hispanics who stubbornly refused to speak one word of English; the clinic provided interpreters for them, but Ms. Gardner was bilingual and needed no help.

The first thing Eric heard her saying in English as he came up behind her and her technician was addressed to a grossly fat black woman: "Does this happen _every_ time you come here? Having to stand in _lines_ to wait for your rightful service?"

The woman nodded. "Sure do. Like we ain't _good_ enough t'be let in right away like [obscenity] rich folks. We wanna know when da _change_ be comin'."

Rhoda poured on the sound-bite sympathy. "We've been wondering that for a long time, with healthcare under the corporate power structure. But it's coming now. Health will belong to the PEOPLE." This brought her cheers in slurred voices, mixed with random shouts of "Change!"

Rhoda added for her audience: "Not one doctor, dentist, nurse or technician helping at this clinic _ever_ donates more than three days in any week. You can see that the plague of greed is far from being rooted out."

"Excuse me," interjected Eric. "I'm Dr. Eric Havens, a dentist who serves here. No one who came to me here--including Lylah whom you were just speaking to--has ever paid the clinic a cent. I have never _been_ paid a cent for any work I did here. Tell me exactly where the greed is; I'm not seeing it."

"Maybe you would see it if you looked at the big, luxurious house you live in," Rhoda sniffed.

"Six persons are living in my house," replied Eric, "soon to be seven. And no one in this line gave money or labor to provide my family with that house. I give help to them, at a loss to my income, while they give nothing to me--but _I'm_ greedy?"

Rhoda Gardner turned to the man assisting her. "We've got enough. We'll fix it up in editing;" and the two of them returned to their hybrid car.

Eric paid them no more heed. He knew that they would lie on the air about how this encounter had gone; but he was thinking more about the effect they were producing on the line of non-paying patients.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the dentist exclaimed. "Has even one of you ever paid, even once, for what you've been given here?" No one had an answer. "Has even one of you ever _done_ anything for me, repaid me in any way for the care I give here?" Some of his hearers were finding the honesty to look ashamed of themselves. "No, you haven't. But that radio queen, who has _never_ healed any of you of the slightest hurt, thinks she has the right to talk you into agreeing that I and others like me are somehow cheating you if we _ever_ make any income for our own families. She pretends that she's protecting you against 'The Rich;' but she's really just warming you up to swallow anything her own preferred politicians promise you. You folks want change? How about _changing_ into people who think for themselves instead of chanting slogans?"

Only the indwelling Holy Spirit prevented Dr. Havens from quitting the volunteer work and telling the people in line to go ask their welfare-state politicians to clean and fill their teeth for them.

But he had one piece of satisfaction that day: the woman Lylah, here today for something other than dentistry, took the time after her appointment to ask his forgiveness for playing along with the public-broadcasting demagogue. Of course he did forgive her.
 
A Thursday evening was chosen for the opening of the Eastern Paradise Buffet in an extended section of Rafferty's Truckstop. (The word "Pansit" was not used in this location, because not enough truckers knew what it meant.) A Filipino couple and their grown children, connected some way to the Imadas, were in charge of cooking. Forty-something Sally Crandall, an assistant manager of the truckstop, was to be in charge of manning for customer service when Alipang and Kim could not be present. On this debut evening, she stayed with Alipang and Kim to make sure they were familiarized with the site, while they in turn made sure she was familiarized with Filipino foods (plus a couple of token more-or-less-Chinese dishes being included in the buffet to widen the appeal).

Chilena and Dan were among those who turned out to support the new venture; but the most intriguing customer was a beautiful woman with light-auburn hair which was fairly short, but not grotesquely-and-mannishly short.

Kim recognized her first. "Good evening, uh, Mrs.--?"

"Mizzzzzzz Lorraine Sloane. I'm using my maiden surname now."

"All right; welcome to the Eastern Paradise. Table or booth?"

"A booth, please. And I'm expecting two more persons to join me."

Kim's attention was riveted by this. "And would those be Mr. Kramer and Quinn?"

"They would. Wilson agreed to let me eat here with him and my son." The adulteress half-smiled, which turned her smug face wistful. "He even said he would pay."

Kim passed this intelligence to Alipang as quickly as she could, and he in turn told Chilena and Dan. Alipang soon spotted Mr. Kramer's car pulling up in the parking lot, and managed to slip outdoors inconspicuously. Intercepting Wilson and Quinn, he told them, "She's here in a booth, waiting for you. I have to keep working, but Kim and I will be praying for you."

"Thanks, Al," father and son replied in exact unison, then glanced at each other with a smile.
 
I think someone needs to emulate Dr. Haven's speech in post #391 in today's world, to help some of our fellow Americans realize the truth.
 
Unaccustomed to Filipino food, Lorraine dithered around at the self-serving stands as long as possible, interspersing trivial questions to Quinn about how he was doing in school. At last, when they all had full plates and were seated in their booth, she said something of substance, at least in her own opinion:

"Quinn, honey, I know that you want to please your Dad with your religious involvement. But can you tell me one thing? Are you pleasing _yourself?_ Is this Jesus obsession building _your_ self-esteem?"

Quinn purposely did not look at his father. What he intended to say in reply was his own idea, and he didn't want it cheapened, nor his father insulted, by his mother inferring that Wilson had _told_ him in advance what to say. "Mom, try to follow this analogy. If you were in an airport terminal, right in the boarding line to get on your flight, what would you say to someone in the line with you who asked if this line was leading to taxicabs?"

"I'd tell him he was in the wrong line," said Lorraine, trying to look as if she already understood where her son was going with this and nothing could surprise her. "So you're saying I'm in the wrong line?"

"I'm saying that your self-esteem question puts ME in the wrong line, Mom. Just as a jet airliner can travel farther and faster than a taxicab, so there's something that can take you farther than focussing on self-esteem. I'm in the line for God's love and blessings, which are _infinitely_ better than me standing in front of a mirror telling myself how great I am."

Lorraine shifted her gaze to her husband's eyes. "Wilson, is this the point of all the religion you've taught him? That he has to _hate_ himself?"

"Not at all," replied Quinn's father calmly. "He doesn't have to hate himself; but he does have to practice making it as natural to love others as all of us find it natural to love ourselves from birth. It's not about him tearing himself down, but it is about him building _others_ up. Okay, son, where were you?"

Now Quinn did allow himself to look at the man who had loved him and guided him and taught him what was right; he wanted his mother to see in his face the love and pride he felt toward his Dad. "I was just getting ready to use another illustration, Dad." He turned back toward Lorraine, and pointed past her to where Alipang was refilling a bin of lumpia. "You see my pal Alipang over there? His adoptive parents are living, breathing examples of what I'm talking about.

"The way Dr. and Mrs. Havens came to adopt him in the first place was by being missionaries in the Philippines. They didn't have to go there; they could have stayed in Richmond, which is where they lived before, stayed comfortable and well-off money-wise....and had LOTS of self-esteem. But they had their eyes on something else: esteeming _other_ people, and esteeming God above everything. So they spent years in the jungles and villages, helping poor people; and Alipang was one of the poorest, a homeless orphan in a slum. He was too old to be a cute poster-baby when Dr. Havens first met him; he was already scarred inside and outside by violence, and most couples would have been terrified to adopt him. But Eric and Cecilia Havens took on the challenge because....they were in the habit of caring about _others,_ not just themselves."

Lorraine glanced at Alipang. On the occasions when she had spoken to him at Redemption Free Church, he had seemed like a perfect gentleman. Yet by now, Lorraine knew what all of Smoky Lake knew, that this young gentleman was also a slayer--like Wilson. "That was quite a gamble they took," she said to her son.

"But the gamble paid off," Quinn assured her. "Alipang has never hurt anyone who didn't majorly deserve it; and to everyone else, he's as tame as a Saint Bernard. God, his adoptive parents, and his adoptive sisters, made sure that Alipang grew up with a heart full of love and kindness. But his family never would have done him so much good if they'd all been in their own little Me-First worlds, measuring everything by how it affected their self-interest."

Lorraine bristled. "I suppose you mean that _I've_ been in a Me-First world, thinking only of myself!"

Quinn touched his mother by his own initiative for the first time in this meeting--in fact, for the first time in years; and in spite of herself, Lorraine felt moved almost to tears as her son gently grasped her hands. "Mom, _isn't_ that exactly what you _have_ been doing? I can say so freely, because you don't have to _stay_ that way. The outward-looking love that the Havens family has is available to you, too. You could be as happy as they are, Mom; you could even--"

The boy stopped there, and silence fell. Neither of the adults present was ready yet to address the possibility which their son had spontaneously almost suggested aloud. Lorraine, because she was not yet _really_ sorry for what she had done to her husband and son...and Wilson, because he realized that Lorraine was not yet really sorry.

They all took to eating.

And Alipang, who did not need to have heard the particulars of the conversation to understand what was at stake, kept up silent prayers for the salvation of Quinn's mother...with ALL the further good that might ensue if she were truly converted and repentant.
 
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Some lighter conversation followed, between mouthfuls. Eventually a moment came when Wilson was up getting another helping, while his ex-wife and son were both in the booth.

Lorraine leaned conspiratorially close and whispered, "Now you can tell me: DID your father put you up to saying the things you've been saying?"

"No. He did _teach_ me the essentials of what I've been talking to you about; but it was my decision even to _allow_ you to meet with us like this, and my decision how much to say to you about the Lord. Think of this, Mom: what if we had invited you to eat here with us....and you had never taken anything to eat, because you refused to believe that the food really existed? Wouldn't you be kind of missing the point of being at the buffet?"

"I guess you mean that your God runs a buffet of blessings."

"Close enough, Mom. But He won't grab your head, force your mouth open by brute strength, and shove the food in between your teeth. You have to _want_ to eat."

Then Wilson rejoined them, and Lorraine had no more words alone with Quinn.

When they all were done and Wilson had paid, Lorraine tried a gambit. "Now that we've had one civilized evening, do you suppose I could take our son someplace on Saturday, just him and me?"

Wilson showed no emotion, but looked at Quinn. "Your call, son."

The boy shook his head. "You haven't earned it yet, Mom. God's grace _can't_ be earned, it's offered as a gift; but the trust of people to whom you intentionally broke promises, HAS TO be earned. You may still write to me; but I'll _trust_ you the day you kneel and receive Jesus as your Lord."

Lorraine departed in a subdued manner, as if she had been given much to think about, which indeed she had. Wilson and Quinn stayed on, aware of how Alipang, Kim, Chilena and Dan were bursting to talk with them about what had just passed. Dan was the first to ask a question: "Mr. Kramer, what do you think? Is she going to repent and believe? And are you going--" He visibly choked back what his impulse would have asked. "Are you going to let her have more visits with Quinn like this?"

"Probably," said Wilson, giving no sign of having noticed Dan's bit of self-editing. "When I married her, it became my duty to promote her spiritual welfare. _That_ function of a husband I can and should still perform."

Chilena was more spontaneous than her boyfriend. She came right out and asked, "What about the other functions? Will you take her back if she comes to Jesus?"

"Hang me if I know," Wilson answered. "She's killed, absolutely, any fleshly desire in me for her. But you never know what God might be planning."
 
On the following Saturday morning, Isobel Stetzer was at home alone, as her husband the pastor was visiting patients in Shilohsville Hospital and she had correspondence to catch up on. But there are always interruptions for a pastor's wife as there are for pastors.

Isobel's interruption took the form of a telephone call...from Lorraine Sloane, the former Mrs. Wilson Kramer, asking to meet with her. Isobel said she could come straight to the parsonage, since Tom Stetzer would be away for hours yet. And come Lorraine did, with a swiftness which revealed that she had already been close to Smoky Lake when making the cellphone call. But Isobel still had enough lead time to get in a substantial prayer for guidance.

Lorraine's peace of mind was helped by the fact of Isobel being a black woman, because Lorraine moved in those politically-correct circles where one is taught a dogma that hateful, judgmental attitudes are _only_ found in white people.

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice, Mrs. Stetzer; I really need to talk with a woman, and my current female friends aren't much use. Though I did speak with one woman last night who was helpful. Maybe you know her: Kathleen Jakekens?"

"Why, yes, or at least I know OF her: the birth mother of Chilena Havens. She and Mr. Jakekens gave up Chilena to Eric and Cecilia in a private adoption because they were going overseas...Here, have a seat. Want some coffee?"

"Yes, thank you, with sugar." As Isobel was pouring the coffee, Lorraine went on:

"You probably heard from the Havens family that Kathleen's son Mike helped me when I was in an accident on Interstate 95. I was already slightly acquainted through Craig (my second ex) with the corporation Mike's father works for; so yesterday afternoon I got around to tracing the Jakekens family so I could express my appreciation for what their son had done for me. I got to visit with Kathleen for more than an hour. Somehow, the conversation shifted from Mike to Chilena. Kathleen confessed to me how ashamed she and her husband were of having given Chilena away at age three, even though Dr. and Mrs. Havens are ideal parents who've given the girl a happy life. I was a little surprised at how much Kathleen's self-esteem was damaged by this, considering that Chilena _wasn't_ harmed by having such great parents raise her."

Isobel swallowed some of her own coffee, mentally repeated her prayer for guidance, and--

"It's perfectly true that Chilena could not have found better parents anywhere on Earth than Eric and Cecilia. They greatly _reduced_ the damage done to Chilena, but you can't say there was no damage at all. Chilena is a good girl, but she carries a lot of insecurity, a fear of abandonment. Her adoptive brother has helped her feel secure with his unwavering affection for her; but those who know them well, know that Chilena is highly possessive of Alipang. She had a hard time getting over her jealousy when Alipang finally found a girlfriend. No, abandonment of those who don't deserve to be abandoned is never without a cost to someone."

Lorraine looked away from the First Lady of Redemption Free Church--a true pastor's wife, already naturally beautiful, and now perceptibly shining with the presence of that Power Lorraine feared. "You're bringing this around to me, aren't you?"

"You invited me to do exactly that by even coming here," Isobel replied. "What else _could_ you have really wanted to discuss? This isn't about Mike Jakekens or Chilena Havens; it's about what you did to Wilson and Quinn Kramer. The only question is, do you want to be told you did no harm, so you don't have to feel bad? Or do you want to face responsibility, as Kathleen Jakekens appears to have done....and receive God's forgiveness?"

Lorraine was quiet for a minute. Finishing her coffee, she said at last: "How can someone maintain self-esteem if she agrees with some old religion that says she's a sinner who needs forgiveness?"

Isobel sighed. "When you were in your traffic accident, did self-esteem protect your car from crashing? If you were starving, would self-esteem fill your stomach? You and I need to discuss priorities..."
 
I really love this story Papa Joe. But I have noticed that Summer really isn't in it anymore. I know I should be working on my half of the story but I'm just having trouble. Anyway, great story!!!
 
N-Fan, the _reason_ why Summer Heron hasn't appeared in my narrative since the Christmas Day scene, is because she's _your_ character, and I don't want to contradict things you may wish to do with her.
 
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