Connie's POV:
We were mostly quiet during the drive home. It was after midnight, and I had to fight to stay awake as my eyelids grew heavy.
The tires ground to a halt in the driveway, and Jeff hopped out and jogged over to open the passenger door for me before I even realized the car had stopped. He walked quietly beside me toward the front door—close, but not too close. We hadn't revisited our conversation from the drive earlier that evening, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching for any hints of what I wasn't saying out loud.
Our eyes men, and he shifted his gaze toward the house, which was aglow with Christmas lights. "The house looks great," he observed. "Jules and Buck did a great job with the lights."
"Yeah, but I couldn't watch when they were doing it, though." I cringed at the memory. "They scared me half to death crawling around up there."
We reached the doorstep and stood there silently, his serious dark eyes gazing down on me. I fumbled with my keys, not sure why my fingers suddenly seemed incapable of holding onto anything.
"You…you know what else scares me?" I faltered, continuing my previous train of thought.
"What?" He stared back at me, bewilderment shadowing his gaze.
Suddenly, I was reaching for his hand. "This. This scares me." What was I doing?
I searched his eyes for some hint of what he might be thinking. He stood so close to me that I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. I wished he would just pull me in and kiss me. Tear down my carefully-constructed defenses. But I knew he had too much respect for me to ever do something like that without my express permission. And that thought scared me even more. Maybe this was real.
"You know what?" He looked down at my hand, turning it over in his, lacing his fingers through mine. A chill ran down my spine.
"What?"
"It scares me, too."
Goosebumps.
"It does?"
"You bet it does. I mean, you did reject me once already, didn't you?"
I giggled, then recovered my serious tone. "Look—" Deep breath. "I'm trying to run a business and go to school and raise a teenager and…"
"…And you're just not ready yet. I understand."
"No, wait, Jeff…" I couldn't let go.
"It's okay, don't worry about it. I want you to take all the time you need to think and pray about it." He squeezed my hand, a twinkle in his eye. "I'm not going anywhere."
Hmm, pray about it. I felt a prick of conscience. It seemed like I'd been too busy to pray about much of anything lately—just blundering from one panicked moment to the next.
I opened my mouth to say something but couldn't find the words.
"Thanks, Jeff," I whispered finally.
His fingers slipped slowly through mine as I turned to let myself into the house.
"Goodnight, Connie."
"Goodnight, Jeff."
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing deeply. I closed my eyes. God, what do I do about this? I prayed silently.
A sudden, soft rustling sound drew my attention, and my eyes snapped open. The house was dark, aside from the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. But as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed the silhouette of a person seated on the floor beside the tree.
"Jules?"
She turned toward me, a rather blank expression on her face. "Oh, hey Connie."
"What are you doing up?"
She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."
"Something on your mind?"
"Not really…"
"Which is Jules-speak for 'Yes, really.' What's bothering you?"
"How do you always do that? You've been hanging around Mr. Whittaker too long." She paused for a moment, like she was pondering what to say next. "It's…my mom. She wants me to go back to LA with her."
"What?!" My heart began to pound, and I couldn't keep the alarm out of my voice. "Are you going to go?"
"I don't want to. I really, really don't want to. But I'm worried about Mom. Her boyfriend Ricky… He's been…hurting her. If I go back…maybe I could…I don't know…protect her? Help keep her safe?"
"Jules…" I knelt down on the carpet beside her and took a shaky breath. "You know you can't do that."
"I know. But I just…" She buried her head in her hands. "I don't know what to do, Connie."
"Has she reported him?"
She shook her head. "I've been begging her to for a long time, but she won't do it. She's left him a few times…but she always goes back."
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. So much weight resting on a little girl's shoulders. It seemed like I was always finding out new parts of my sister's story, but I had a feeling there was so much more I would never know.
"I'm so sorry, Jules." I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts, then began again slowly, "One of the toughest parts about growing up is realizing that we can't always protect the people we love. We can pray for them and be there for them when they need us, but ultimately they make their own decisions."
"I know," she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Do you want me to maybe pray with you about it?" I offered.
"Would you?"
"Of course I will."
I laid my hand on her shoulder and spoke aloud to our Father, the great Healer of broken hearts.
When I was finished, I gave my sister a gentle hug and got up to make my way upstairs and to bed.
"No, no, no, sit back down." She patted the carpet next to her. "I'm sorry, I kind of made this all about me, didn't I? How was your night? I want to hear all about it."
"Okay, okay," I relented, sitting back down again. "Well, first of all, there is no need to be sorry."
"And…?"
"And…it was really…good. Great. Really great. But confusing. And everything's so complicated."
"Complicated how? Connie, Jeff is a great guy, and anyone can see he's crazy about you."
"Really?" Deep down inside, I knew she was right, so why did I feel so much embarrassment at hearing it out loud?
"Yes, really! You know, this may be total speculation on my part, and it's going to sound weird coming from me, but maybe you should take a chance and trust somebody for once."
I smiled and nodded slowly. "Maybe I should."
She could be remarkably insightful for a 16-year-old.
We sat together in silence for a few more minutes, before heading upstairs and to bed. I drifted off to a fitful sleep, my heart, body and mind exhausted.