 
Wayward Paths and Golden Handcuffs

S.J. Thomason
Published by S.J. Thomason at Amazon Kindle (ebook), Smashwords, (ebook) and CreateSpace (book)*

Copyright 2015 S.J. Thomason

ASIN: B00U2T4ZMS

ISBN-13: 978-1508781738

ISBN-10: 1508781737

Title: Wayward Paths and Golden Handcuffs

First Edition

Author: S.J. Thomason

Publishers: CreateSpace, Amazon Kindle, and Smashwords

Distributor: Amazon and Smashwords
*Amazon Kindle Version 1, CreateSpace Version 1, Smashwords Version 1 License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook and/or purchasing this book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others by any means for commercial or non-commercial purposes without permission of the author. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Names, characters and events depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination and are only fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, alive or deceased, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher.
Dedications

_This book is dedicated to my sons, my husband, and my Lord, Jesus Christ._ I am grateful to those I've encountered in my life who have shaped my opinions and thoughts about our Savior and have helped me to learn about His truths. I am also grateful that I've been blessed with the opportunity and ability to write this book. Finally, I'm grateful for my husband and two sons, my greatest blessings _._
_Unless otherwise noted, all scripture quotations are taken from the_ _Bible: New International Version. Copyright @ 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.TM NIV Church Bible, Large Print. Copyright @ 2011 by Zondervan._
"A life devoted to things is a dead life, a stump. A God-shaped life is a flourishing tree" Proverbs 11:28 (MSG) _._
_Being a CEO's son in the top one percent of income earners certainly has its perks, yet such diversions fail to impress Nick. Success to Nick is defined instead by helping those less fortunate and embracing Christianity. Success to his mom is defined differently, through a passion for work, a capitalization on assets, and a drive to accumulate wealth. Convincing his successful mother to follow Jesus' example is nearly impossible, though, since she feels that Jesus is only a myth, immortalized to control the masses. Then fate steps in and Nick finds himself clashing with the obstacles of alcohol, abundance, and adultery as he strives to outrun time and alter fate to present a compelling argument in support of Jesus to the mother he loves._
Contents

Chapter 1: Waterskiing in a Lightning Storm

Chapter 2: Her Act Will Be Hard to Follow

Chapter 3: A Rum Runner or a Banana Banshee?

Chapter 4: He Who Dies With the Most Toys Wins

Chapter 5: Summer Camp

Chapter 6: Must Have Won the Lottery

Chapter 7: Lowly Women

Chapter 8: The Lunch, the Homeless Man, and the Seagull

Chapter 9: The Fundraiser

Chapter 10: The Beach, the Beer, and the Cowboy Hat

Chapter 11: The Lunch Date

Chapter 12: Bless the Lord O My Soul

Chapter 13: Visions of the Hatteras Dancing in His Head

Chapter 14: Boating on the Bay

Chapter 15: An Afternoon at the Ramsey's

Chapter 16: Adding a Dose of Wind to a Whirlwind

Chapter 17: Squeezing a Camel through a Needle

Chapter 18: Imagine Yourself as a House

Chapter 19: A Day at the Zoo

Chapter 20: An End and a Beginning

Chapter 21: A Date at the Beach

Chapter 22: The Rush to the Hospital

Chapter 23: Let's Just Say a Little Butterfly Told Me

Chapter 24: The Decision to Believe

Chapter 25: Poor in Spirit and Rich in Love

Chapter 26: The Alleged Accidental Shooting
Chapter 27: Making a Difference
Chapter 28: The Divine Intervention

Chapter 29: Surprises

Chapter 30: Changes at Fox 'n Fields

Chapter 31: Wonder What the Poor People Are Doing?

Chapter 32: The Celebration
Wayward Paths and Golden Handcuffs

Chapter 1

Waterskiing in a Lightning Storm

Nick clutched the ski rope with ease as he slid across the salty water on his slalom ski. The sun was only a memory in the dark sky and the moon was all that lit the sea under his ski. Rain was drizzling and he could feel it collapsing against his upper torso and his legs, just under his khaki shorts. Nothing like warm, sticky rain on a hot night.

The thrill of the adventure engulfed him. Night waterskiing was fun. He'd never skied at night before, and it seemed particularly enjoyable in his beer-fueled body. As his friend Bob, or "Bobnoxious," maneuvered the boat in a wide circle around Orange Bay, Nick gripped the rope and stayed in its wake.

Bob yelled something, but Nick couldn't hear what he said over the boat's purring engine. He watched Bob as he pointed to a few big waves heading towards the boat, and felt himself hopping over them with ease when they arrived. His other friend Tanner was standing next to Bob, yet turned towards him with his beer in hand.

"Start taking notes!" Nick O'Brien boasted to his friends, yet he knew they couldn't hear him either.

He skipped over the wake behind the boat and made a wide circle to their right, carving a thick wall of water, which showcased his many years as a skier. Angling himself slightly, he skidded over to the other side of the boat and duplicated his masterful spray. His muscular body was in perfect shape for a battle on a ski with the water and the elements. Feeling proud and strong, he skimmed back to his friends' right side and sprayed his highest wall of water yet.

It was hard to see the stars since the sky was covered in clouds and the air was thickened by the misty rain. Though the light of the moon seemed to be fading a bit, he remained confident in his abilities; he was familiar with the ocean water and its waves. Chuckling to himself, he figured he'd probably be able to ski without a problem if blindfolded. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before realizing that skiing blindfolded would be impossible. The moon's reflection still guided him on the water as he moved about. The rain started to get a little thicker so he blinked his eyes a few times to free them from the blurry moisture.

"Yippee-yi-yay!" He screamed as he hit another wave and leapt into the air before landing perfectly once again. Nothing could stop him now, not even the beer rolling through his blood and playing with his mind.

The moon's light started to dim even more and the stars were no longer present. Traversing across the boat's wake was becoming more difficult as he strained to see the waves in the water past the newly thickened rain. The fun factor was fading away.

Seconds later, thunder rolled in and roared across the sky. Nick, who was well familiar with Florida's notoriety as the lightning capitol of the world, shuddered. Time to get back on the boat. Being on the water in a lightning storm was toying with death.

"Hey, stop the boat!"

They didn't hear him. The boat was still traveling at full speed.

He watched Bob as he turned around to face him briefly and pounded his fist into the air.

"C'mon! Stop the boat!" Nick demanded. "Lightning!"

Bob smiled and pounded his fist again. The boat kept traveling at full speed. More thunder. More lightning. Blinded by anger, Nick could barely make out the waves as they struck him.

"Oh God, please help me," he said in a panic. "What's wrong with him?"

He watched his friend, Tanner, as he grabbed Bob's arm and shook him.

The boat finally stopped. He popped off his ski in a second and swam at breakneck speed to get back onto the boat. As he climbed in, he could feel his blood boiling, along with a sudden desire to kill Bob, who should have cut the engine the moment the lightning started.

"Why'd it take you so long to stop?" What were you thinking man?" He said as he glared at Bob and panted.

"Hey, you looked like you were having fun. Didn't want to cut you short," Bob replied. "Let's get outa here."

Thunder was still roaring and lightning flashing in the sky as the three young men headed back to the boat docks at full speed. The night had become wrathful and it was no time to be on a boat.

Nick tried to contain his rage. He wanted to pound Bob, yet took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Bob was much smaller than he was and he knew that he could probably level him with a couple of punches.

After a long while and seconds before arriving at the docks, he said, "It was fun at first. Then it sucked, Bob. It sucked."

"Yeah, too much lightning. You guys up for heading back to my house? I've got more beer in the fridge." Bob didn't seem to comprehend his ordeal; he'd probably had too much to drink.

"Works for me," Tanner said.

Nick was still fuming. But he was still alive. He took a deep breath and found himself thanking the Lord in his thoughts.

"Okay, I'm game too."

A year would pass before he'd see Bob again.
Chapter 2

Her Act Will Be Hard to Follow

With her chin held high, she surveyed the crowd from their table in the front of the room by the stage. Nick compared her movements to those of a regal lion as it surveyed its jungle court from its perch on the side of a mountain. And just as the lion deserved the respect it received from the animals in the jungle, she deserved her position presently. She'd worked hard. Soon she'd be called to the podium to receive her award as one of West Florida's three most distinguished women of the year.

She was also Nick O'Brien's mom. He sat by her side at her table, surrounded by a group of women from the organization for which she worked: Fox 'n Fields. All were dressed in suits, yet none wore them as well as his mother. It was clear which of the bunch sat atop of the corporate food chain.

He was proud to be by her side, proud to be by the epitome of success. And she played the part well with her perfect posture and make-up, professionally manicured fingernails, coiffed blonde bob haircut, and crisp red designer suit. Her new gold Rolex watch with its diamond bezel sparkled against both the lights in the room and her office white skin, as did her diamond necklace. _She-power_.

According to the women at his table, celebrating the accomplishments of the filthy rich was always a treat in Orange Bay. And the Orange Bay Women's Awards Ceremony offered average folks that "delightful indulgence" each year. Having the opportunity to marvel at the designer outfits of the world's female millionaires in the top 1% stirred feelings of pleasure and wonder among those at his table, along with those they'd termed the "bourgeois" at other tables in the packed auditorium.

The event was kicked off with the introduction of the keynote speaker, Barbara Collins. She arrived at the podium in a dark green knit suit, which accented her silver grey hair as snow accents pine trees in the Colorado Mountains in the winter. Her appearance seemed a bit frail and her voice slightly quivered as she began her key note address.

"I'm excited to have this opportunity to let you know about the excellent work that we've done in our home over the past twenty years in service of the good Lord. The Collins' Foster Home provides a safe haven, support, and therapeutic and loving care for abused, neglected, and abandoned children. Its campus includes five homes on fifteen acres of land and it's located just outside of the city of Orange Bay in a rather rural part of the county. Each home features ten bedrooms: eight for sixteen children and two for the overnight caretakers. In all, we serve eighty children at a time."

Pictures of young children, teenagers, and adults whose lives she had touched were streamed on a large screen, tugging at the heart strings of all in the audience, particularly Nick, who noticed boys and girls of every race, some healthy and some disabled. All had two things in common: they'd been both challenged and blessed. Life had thrown them a curveball and Barbara batted it away and blessed them with a loving and secure environment. Nick felt inspired. As the pictures flashed before him, he noticed one more commonality: all wore smiles.

"Each and every one of the children in our home has a special gift and is a special blessing from God. It's been our job to find that gift and to make sure that they use it effectively in their lives. Some were gifted with the ability to write, so we've encouraged writing and the expression of their thoughts. Others were blessed with the ability to understand and empathize with others, so we've encouraged sales or teaching or counseling or social work. Others were gifted with mathematical skills, so we've encouraged pursuits in engineering, accounting, science, and finance. Still others were blessed with musical or artistic abilities, so we've encouraged advancement in the arts. Everyone has a gift. And everyone needs to know that. People need to know that they're special in their own way, blessed by our Lord." She paused and looked over the audience.

"What you may not know is that I've been battling breast cancer over the past few months. I was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer in late February and told that I only had a few months left to live. I chose to forego chemotherapy, since it would make me too sick to use my last days on this earth the way I want to use them. My life has been very rewarding and I now feel that I'm ready to meet my Father in Heaven." She paused and surveyed the room before turning her head towards the screen, which displayed children's pictures from her foster home.

"Don't worry about the fate of the community foster home. Jesus has blessed the home in remarkable ways and it will grow and thrive under new leadership, whom Jesus will inspire, to serve the growing needs of our community. We haven't closed our mission gap of serving _all_ of the children in need in our community as we can only serve eighty at a time. There is still much work to do."

Tears poured down the faces of the audience as they experienced an unusual blending of her pain, her passion, and her faith. Nick's eyes welled up with tears, which he quickly wiped off. He hated crying in front of others. Pulling his stomach inward, he drew a deep breath and tried to relax his thoughts. Again, his emotions were getting the best of him.

"Relax. Show control," he muttered under his breath as he looked down into his lap. After a few moments, he felt a bit of strength and again peered up at the podium.

He noticed that Barbara wasn't crying. Instead, she said, "Please hold back your tears. You should be rejoicing. I've completed what God called me to do and will soon walk with him in Heaven. And let me tell you that I can't wait to thank Jesus." Nick was surprised by the sudden change in her voice, which now exuded strength and power. It was clear that her frail body was no match for her inner strength.

The audience clapped and stood up in an ovation as she ended her speech and walked back to her seat at the first table. A press photographer followed her and shot photos.

Nick watched her as she arrived at her table and sat down. Her table was occupied by both women and men, and...

"Piper McCoy," he whispered to himself as he sat up straighter in his chair. "Beautiful." She was sitting at Barbara's table and looked radiant in her red suit jacket, black and white scarf, and upright posture. Nick always admired Piper, from the first time he saw her in high school in his freshmen year. He'd asked her out a few times, but she'd always rejected him saying she didn't date football players. He couldn't figure out why she didn't realize that they would be the perfect couple. They were meant for one another. He knew that from the moment he saw her and from the way she walked, and the way she talked, and the way she presented herself to others. No other woman was comparable to Piper.

He didn't want to give up on her. She was perfect, both on the outside and within. Her straight, mocha-colored hair and olive skin shone in perfect contrast to her pearly white smile and full cherry-colored lips. Nick stared at her for a few minutes before catching her attention. As their eyes met, he couldn't help but wink at her. She looked away. Ouch. Again.

"One day she'll realize what I know," he thought as he took a small sip of water from an icy stemmed goblet in front of him. A few drops of perspiration on the glass fell onto his lap, which he pushed off before penetrating his pant legs.

His mother was by his side, sitting in a somewhat stoical way. She turned to him and whispered, "Barbara Collins' act will be hard to follow." He looked at her and felt her thoughts. Unlike Barbara, she donated little to the poor and supported few, if any, charitable causes.

Fortunately for his mom, the two other award recipients were called to the podium first and one had a background more in line with hers. Candace Schwartz was also the chief executive officer of a Fortune 500 organization with over 200,000 workers. She shared her experiences with the crowd before closing with a few "words of wisdom." Her words were well received and the crowd erupted in applause as she exited the stage and returned to her table.

Nick's mom was introduced next. Catherine O'Brien stood up and walked to the stage in her red high heels, which precisely matched the shade of her skirt suit. After arriving at the podium, she began to share her experiences with the crowd, highlighting the ways she had advanced in her company through "determination, drive, passion, and working half-days." Half-days were twelve hour days, often seven days a week.

Little time was left for a personal life, but that was okay since her only son was now in college.

"My son Nick is off to a good start in life. He'll be graduating from State this December with a dual major in finance and business management and I expect that he'll earn his MBA in the next few years. Nick plays football for State, but he's more likely to capitalize on his intellectual skills and assets and follow my footsteps in the corporate world. Nick, please stand up."

Nick grinned as he stood up and waved at the crowd, noticing that many were smiling at him and clapping. Except Piper. She was no longer at the Barbara Collins' table.

"Must be using the restroom. What timing!" Nick lamented to himself.

"At Fox 'n Fields, we value a strong work ethic, an achievement-orientation, innovation, and good ethical values, so we hire and promote candidates who share our values and who aren't afraid of working hard and working smart. Those who succeed with us are promoted often and compensated generously. Those who fail are documented for poor performance and terminated. We don't tolerate laziness, sloppy work, unethical actions, or poor excuses. That's what drives us and that's what's always fueled the American Dream, which thrives at Fox 'n Fields!" Catherine paused as the crowd clapped. When they finished, she said, "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share my experiences with you this afternoon."

The crowd clapped again as she walked with authority back to her chair. She was stopped by the press photographer and posed for a few pictures, displaying her plaque proudly. Then she returned to the table and sat down.

"Great job, Mom. You were fantastic up there; an inspiration for everyone. Especially the hard workers."

"Thanks, Nick. You'll be recognized one day too; it's in your genes."

Nick surveyed the crowd and caught the eyes of the press photographer. The photographer smiled at him and Nick returned the gesture. His dark coffee-colored eyes then shifted to his mom. He looked like the type of man she'd be interested in; like his dad, and like him.

His dad had died when he was in the fifth grade in a car accident, but he didn't miss him that much; he didn't miss the verbal abuse. His mom didn't miss him much either; they'd never gotten along. She told Nick that he was jealous of her love for her only son.

And he loved his mom too. She had worked hard to give him a good upbringing and to instill her values in him. But she was probably lonely without a man in the house. Aside from the summers and breaks, he'd been away at State for four years and her only other companion was their dog.

Though his mind had trailed off, he still had his eyes fixed on the photographer who was still eyeing up his mom in a way that one would imagine a homeless man in a restaurant would eye up a filet mignon. He looked hungry, though he appeared to have a muscular body under his grey pin-striped suit. Standing around six foot four, he had a handsome appearance. His mom would likely appreciate his wavy dark brown hair, square jaw, and straight, Roman-sort of nose. And he appeared to be about his mom's age, early forties.

Nick's eyes gravitated to the man's hand. That's when he saw the wedding band on his finger. "Nope, that won't work," he said to himself, realizing that he didn't appreciate the photographer's apparent interests in his mom.

A short while later, the luncheon ended and Nick caught another glimpse of Piper at Barbara Collins' table. She and the others at her table got up and headed to the door.

"Mom, you ready?"

"Yes," she said as she stood up and grabbed her purse and plaque.

"Nice lunch."

"Indeed."

As he and his mom exited the ballroom and headed to the doors, Nick could see Piper through the windows in the hallway to the door as she was heading to a car in the parking lot. If only she appreciated his attention.

Then he spotted the photographer, who was standing just outside of the door of the event hall. He appeared to be waiting for them and was again eyeing up his mother who was walking by his side. As they exited the building, he seized his opportunity.

"Catherine, my name is Braedon Ramsey and I'm a free-lance press photographer and reporter. I heard you're hosting a fundraiser for Governor Kinnaird at your home next week. I support the governor as well. Would you allow me to photograph the event for a bit of publicity?"

His eyes were locked on his mom's eyes as he smiled, exposing his flawless teeth. Just as a tiger appraises its prey before moving in for the kill, the photographer stood before his mom, positioned to pounce and devour.

Pulling a business card from his pocket, the photographer offered further information about himself as he handed it to her. She studied the card and said, "I'll have to check with the governor to determine his comfort level on letting the press in, but it's likely that we can work this out, at least for a little while." She pulled her business card from her purse and handed it to him. "Give me a couple of days and then call me."

"Will do. Thank you, Catherine. Oh, is it okay if I call you by your first name?"

"Well that's better than other names one could call me," she offered with a slight smile, "Yes, you can call me Catherine."

"Hopefully I'll be seeing you soon."

"I'm sure we can arrange that."

Nick noticed his mom's eyes as she quickly glanced at the photographer's hand. Nick looked too. The wedding band was gone.

"I know I saw a ring," he thought to himself. "Cheater."

"Nick, let's get going," she said as she walked away from the photographer and toward her new Ferrari. He followed her and hopped into its passenger seat. Soon they were off. They took the same route home that they'd taken to the luncheon; the slower route along the bay that offered picturesque views.

"I don't like driving the Ferrari on the highway," she said, "too much debris flying around. Dents and scratches on this car would drive me crazy."

"No doubt about that."

The drive was pleasant on that breezy, sunny day, and the temperature was a perfect seventy degrees. She'd developed a new interest in classical music, which she played as she drove him to the house. He pretended to enjoy the music, but he didn't. Country music was what floated his boat. The day was about his mom, though, so he said nothing. As they reached Bayfront Drive, his mom turned to him and said, "What do you think of the new house?"

"House? It's a mansion, Mom. It's gorgeous. The decorator was worth it."

"How about inviting some friends over? It's a house for entertaining."

"Love to. But I'm going to try to find a job first. A paid summer internship. I'd like to get my foot in the door in a big company early. If not that, maybe I'll go for a camp counselor job. I've already sent out a few applications."

"Well, you know I appreciate that, Nick. You're showing the right attitude and your hard work will pay off. You'll see."

"Definitely buys the toys," Nick said as they approached the house. They drove up the driveway and into the garage.

Again he thought of the missing wedding band. "What did you think of that photographer?"

"He seemed okay. Why do you ask?"

"Oh. Nothing."

She looked over at him and grinned, shaking her head slightly.
Chapter 3

A Rum Runner or a Banana Banshee?

Braedon Ramsey lived with his wife and two-year-old twin daughters in a modest three-bedroom home in South Orange Bay. He'd spent the past twelve years working in journalism, while his wife taught in the second grade of a local public elementary school. They'd been married for almost a decade.

After he returned home from the luncheon, he slipped into some casual clothes and sat down on the reclining chair in the family room and kicked back. He could hear his wife cleaning in the kitchen not far away and could smell the scent of the lasagna that she'd prepared, baking in the oven.

He'd grown disinterested in his marriage, resenting his wife's lack of self-control and the weight she still hadn't lost since she'd gotten pregnant. She was a kind-hearted woman, though, and he didn't want to hurt her. He knew he was supposed to be a good father, husband, and provider.

He watched her as she entered the room in her all-too familiar moo moo housecoat, which she called a sundress. Playing the martyr, she swept the crumbs from the floor around his chair and the couches next to him into a dustpan. No words came from her mouth, but something about her movements exuded a hint of bitterness.

Appearing as an old, weary housewife, she'd pulled her mousy, brown hair into a tight pony tail, leaving no hair to frame her roundish face and her pale, tired-looking hazel eyes. She'd already removed the little bit of eye makeup that she'd applied that morning before school and had traded in her somewhat trendier school outfit for the moo moo. That's what he got to look at every day; a tired looking cow with a ponytail in a moo moo. So unfair.

And he was in better shape than he'd ever been in. Didn't she notice that? She used to compliment him daily, but now she rarely said anything about his physical appearance. The only compliments he'd heard in a long time were about the way he treated their children; she appreciated it when he took them for walks and to the park. That was about it.

He enjoyed doing those things, though, as Kaylee and Haley meant everything to him. They'd been a blessing in his life since the day they were born just over two years before. He wanted to give them a good life, a prosperous life.

But they were struggling financially. The daycare was expensive and he barely had enough to pay his bills each month. He was glad for the times when his mom could help out by watching the kids; but she had a day job, so the only time she could take care of them was on the weekends or at night.

They rarely needed her on the weekends, though. They never went out to eat anymore and rarely entertained their friends. Rarely entertaining was fine with Braedon as his friends had good-looking wives who kept themselves in shape and looked great at all times, while his wife was a slob. But she was a loving mother.

He checked his watch and figured he still had about fifteen minutes to relax before she'd be picking the kids up from the daycare. Quiet time. Time to reflect on the day. Soon the house would be filled with noise and chaos, and that was okay; the girls were a delight to be around and he loved them.

Unlike his wife. And he didn't blame himself for that. What she'd done to her body was her fault. She knew how he felt about extra weight, and how his mom's obesity had embarrassed him to no end when he was young. She knew he expected her to remain thin. Very thin.

Covering the fundraiser at Catherine O'Brien's house would be a treat. He knew where she lived as he'd checked the tax records and mapped the route to her house a couple of weeks before. In his old Toyota Camry, he'd driven by a few times and had admired its opulence.

Catherine O'Brien had become something of a celebrity in Orange Bay since her promotion to the CEO role at Fox 'n Fields. She'd replaced a CEO who'd been at the helm for twenty years, but whose ideas had become stale, contributing to the company's slump of late. Catherine had been profiled by many of the local newspapers and business periodicals, but he hadn't seen her in person until the luncheon. She was impressive. And thin. Hopefully she hadn't noticed his wedding band before he thought to remove it.

He considered the contrast between his wife and Catherine. Tricia was Catherine's opposite. She was frumpy and worn out, sporting either moo moo housecoats or shorts and worn t-shirts when home. And her shorts were often too tight and were always too short, exposing her chunky legs.

He cringed. "Her legs. Ugh. Why doesn't she cover those things up? The cellulite makes them ripple like jello when she walks."

He looked down at his own legs as he sat on his favorite reclining chair in the family room of his house and flexed his muscles. Flawless. The workouts had paid off. He glanced at his right arm and flexed his muscles, which tightened the sleeve of his long-sleeved fishing shirt. Shirts and shorts couldn't hide the muscles he'd accumulated and maintained over the years in his magnificent castle of a body. Women, aside from his wife of course, appreciated his body and his regal, proud ways; they lusted over him. Who wouldn't lust over perfection?

Again he thought of his wife's legs and felt a twinge of anger burning inside of him. He called out to her, "Tricia, how about joining me at the gym this weekend? They're running a family membership special."

"No thanks. How about joining me at the church with the kids?"

"Ha! Good one." He cringed, "Not even interested in fixing the problem." She was beautiful when he married her, when she was twenty-five pounds lighter at one hundred and ten pounds. At five foot eight, that was the perfect weight for her.

Then her doctor told her that she needed to gain weight if she wanted to get pregnant, so she gained a quick ten pounds and got pregnant. He thought, "That must've been the last time I slept with her. She still looked good. But she doesn't now, and I'm not sleeping with a fat chick."

"And she doesn't even realize she's fat." He shook his head in disgust, recalling the times when she had tried to sell him on her 'normal' weight and her 'naturally pretty' features. Sure, she had a pretty face. Just too hard to see it with the extra pounds that were framing it.

"The lasagna smells good. Let's remember portion control tonight."

He waited for her response, but heard nothing.

The pregnancy caused this problem, but it also produced the twins. Kaylee and Haley were his little strawberry delights with their strawberry blonde curls, freckles, button noses, and sunny dispositions. Tricia dressed them in a multitude of girly outfits with Paddington bear types of hats. Expensive outfits.

He thought of the debt. Their credit card debt had become unmanageable and he could barely make the minimum payments anymore. He'd complained about money to his wife, and had lashed out at her for giving some of it to the church, but things didn't change much.

The church. What a scam. She spent way too much time at the church volunteering in Bible studies, choir practices, Sunday school and the choir. What a waste. He never accompanied her there. It was silly that she'd even asked him; she knew how he felt.

Then he thought of Catherine. She was slender and wore just the right amount of make-up, which appeared to be professionally applied. Everything about her exuded wealth, from her straight white teeth to her immaculate clothing and professional haircut.

Wealth. He was living paycheck to paycheck and doing odd jobs to make ends meet. Pressure cleaning the neighbor's driveways, washing his friend's boats, and painting houses all helped to supplement their income. His wife should have been making money in her spare time too instead of volunteering and spending time at the church. Catherine got it; she didn't volunteer and she had tons of money.

What would he do with that kind of money? He pictured himself at the wheel of a yacht as it cruised along the bay in front of all the mansions. Or perhaps it would be a Cigarette boat? He started to envision himself at the helm of a Cigarette boat, racing along the beach in the Gulf of Mexico. He'd take the boat to Anna Maria Island, then to Sarasota, then to Sanibel Island where he'd fuel up before finishing his trip down to the Keys. There he'd proudly dock the boat in a marina, where he'd showcase it for a few weeks.

"I'll take a rum runner," he'd say as he ponied up to a local bar. Or perhaps a banana banshee? A rum runner or a banana banshee? Or both? Such decisions would be common after marrying Catherine. He chuckled.

His thoughts returned to his wife and their money, which was no money. And the struggles, the bills, the credit card debt, and her appearance. He was sick of it. "Thank God for the twins," he thought.

"Oh, and I've made a decision. I'll take the banana banshee with a rum floater."
Chapter 4

He Who Dies With the Most Toys Wins

As they got out of the Ferrari and headed into their new home, Nick's attention turned to its lavish amenities: the infinity pool, the tennis court, and the helicopter pad. His mom didn't own a helicopter, yet. But she might need one in the future, just to get around. Nick knew that some would consider each a vulgar display of wealth, given the space they required on one of the priciest chunks of land in the county overlooking the bay. And those considerations made him uncomfortable.

The mansion was fully automated electronically with all sorts of other bells and whistles. It had two three-car garages, which was far more than she needed to house her only car, the red Ferrari. She parked the Ferrari in the space closest to the door to the kitchen on one side of the home. Nick's Mustang was parked two spaces away in the same garage.

As he and his mom strode past the laundry room, Nick spotted a picture on the wall of a red Ferrari, along with a caption, "He who dies with the most toys wins." He snickered as he followed his mom down the hallway.

His little dog Chipper ran up, greeting him with her tail wagging wildly from side to side. Chipper was a grey-colored schnauzer-mix that they'd rescued from an animal shelter a couple of years before. He loved Chipper.

"Chipper, you're such a perfect dog," he said as he knelt to pet her. "Are you lonely in this big house?" She barked and licked him.

His mom walked into the kitchen and after a few more pets and pats, Nick got up and followed her.

"So when will your grades be posted?" She asked as she opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Monday. This semester worked out much better than the last. That's for sure. I think you'll like what you see."

"That's excellent. Nick, I'm so proud of you. I've already started planning the party for your graduation in December. It'll be big; promise that. I'll invite the governor and some big names in town too. It's important that we recognize our accomplishments and achievements, and earning your dual major degree from State is certainly noteworthy."

He followed his mom into the family room and sat down on one of the two couches. She sat down on the opposite couch and picked up the newspaper. The family room overlooked the pool and offered an expansive view of the bay, which Nick admired when he entered the room. It was breathtaking by anyone's standards.

A few minutes later, he headed back into the kitchen for a drink, which he grabbed from the inside door of a massive stainless steel refrigerator. Subzero refrigerator: the standard in mansions. He popped the top from the soda bottle and took a hearty swig. Refreshing.

"I'm going to send out more job applications today, mom."

"Good," she said. "You know you can always take a Fox 'n Fields' internship this summer."

"Yeah, I know that. Thanks mom, but I want to make it on my own. I don't want to be known as the kid who rides his mom's coattails."

"Don't let your pride get in the way of an opportunity, Nick. Fox 'n Fields has much to offer you and there's nothing wrong with capitalizing on your connections. Everyone does it. But of course you'd be held to higher standards than those without connections if you did."

"That wouldn't bother me, but I'm going to try something else first." He sat back down on the couch and again peered out the window.

After a few minutes, he asked, "Mom, do you really need all of this? I mean it's only you and Chipper now. I'm only here during the breaks and I'll be moving out after I graduate. This house is _gi-normous!_ How are you going to keep it clean? So many rooms."

"Yes, Nick. I can assure you that I need this house." She put the newspaper she was reading down by her side. "I've hired a maid who comes twice weekly and keeps it nice and clean. CEOs don't live in middle-class neighborhoods in rural areas; they live in homes more fitting."

"Fitting?"

"Yes, Nick, fitting. I'm in the upper echelon now, rubbing elbows with the board and other highbrows. I need to walk the walk and talk the talk, and I need to be able to entertain them properly in my home. If we were still in the other house, they'd have to drive forty minutes to visit through cow pastures and orange groves just to visit. And that house hardly had the amenities people expect."

"I don't want you to think that I don't like the house," Nick continued, "I do. But it just seems so opulent, you know."

"You'll grow into it, Nick. Opulence is good. I've earned opulence."

Nick felt her impatience with him. He also observed the designer labels on her slightly casual weekend outfit, which further reflected her desire to dress the part she felt was required of her in her new role.

"Mom, did I ever tell you how I found Jesus?"

"No. Do share."

Nick sensed a bit of sarcasm in her response.

"Well, I was down and out in December, right after Tyrone was killed in the football game. It was horrible. I was drinking too much. Couldn't focus. Couldn't think about my final exams." He paused and shook his head.

"Certainly impacted your grades. What happened to Tyrone was horrible, Nick, and I figured you were drinking to drown your sorrows. Your father was a big drinker, you know. Drank when he was happy and drank when he was sad. Just loved to drink."

"Yeah, I know. How could I forget that? I don't ever want to follow his footsteps though; he was such a mean alcoholic. I'm not mean when I drink, Mom, and fighting is the last thing on my mind." Nick looked at his mom who was nodding and listening intently.

He continued, "I hate to admit this but I think drinking is kind of fun, and it helps me to forget about things like Tyrone's death. Tyrone was awesome. He didn't know his dad and barely ever saw his mom since she was always working, but that didn't stop him or get him down. He was an excellent athlete. He had everything and would have gone pro."

"Nick, I'm very sad about Tyrone and I feel badly for his family too. I'm sure that they were counting on his success. We'll send them some money. He was a good leader to all of you and an excellent quarterback. It's a real tragedy. But despite that, Nick, I want to be sure that you don't lean on alcohol to drown your sorrows."

"Tyrone's family will appreciate money, Mom, as I'm sure they could use the help. As for me, things were much better in the spring. I found another way to deal with Tyrone's death: God. And Tanner helped me. He proved Jesus is the Son of God. He read me a passage from the Old Testament, Isaiah 53. Mom, Isaiah 53 predicts Jesus' crucifixion. The thing that got me was that the book of Isaiah was written about seven hundred years before Jesus' birth. In the Old Testament. Isaiah was a Jewish prophet and is still considered a prophet to Jews."

"Interesting," his mom said, "I didn't know that Tanner was a Bible thumper."

"His family is very religious."

"Oh."

"He helped me to become a believer. I've been going with Tanner to church at State ever since. We've been there just about every Sunday. Do you believe in Jesus, Mom?"

An uncomfortable silence followed. Nick took a deep breath as he waited for her response. "Well, Nick, I was raised to believe in Jesus."

"Well then, why don't we go to church? And why didn't you raise _me_ to believe in Jesus?" Nick asked feeling a bit of sadness, along with a hint of anger.

"I don't need to go to church," she said, "God appreciates hard work and goodness. And I've always been good to you and my subordinates at work. And I've taught you about the Protestant work ethic, which is all about God. God helps those who help themselves. He appreciates independence."

"I'm sure he likes that Mom, but I don't think God appreciates opulence," Nick challenged, "He wants you to use your money to help others in need."

Nick loved and respected his mom, but something about this new lifestyle made him uneasy. He was happy that she'd offered to help Tyrone's family out. God would appreciate that, if she actually did what she said she'd do. Sometimes she said things just to appease him and sometimes she forgot to make good on promises.

"Oh please. Nick, do you really think God wants me to give everything I've earned away? I've worked hard. Very hard. If everyone who worked as hard as I did gave it all away, they'd never be motivated to work hard again. The world would fall apart. We'd have no entrepreneurs and no workers and might as well be communists where everyone benefits despite their contributions. God wants us to prosper and work hard, Nick, and I'll betcha he's a bigger fan of capitalism than communism; he gets human nature."

Nick said softly, "I'm sure he wants everyone to be prosperous, but..." He felt a little queasy. Something didn't seem right. He knew how his friends on the football team lived; most weren't superstars and most would leave the glory. Many were part of families that were struggling to make ends meet. Many needed the football scholarships they were awarded. Nick didn't _need_ his football scholarship, but he was happy they'd given him one.

Nick was the back-up quarterback to Tyrone. He remembered how Tyrone had told him that his mom worked two jobs, but still had trouble paying the bills. She had probably counted on him to be the lifesaver, lifting the family out of poverty. Instead he was killed in a freak accident in the last quarter of a football game.

He thought of his other teammates. Most wouldn't make it to the riches of the NFL, freeing themselves from financial worries. These thoughts saddened Nick, who walked over to the patio door and looked out onto the bay. He'd never given much thought to poverty before.

It was one thing when he was in the middle-class neighborhood where everyone's homes and cars and income seemed about the same. Some had nicer cars than others, or a slightly larger house, or maybe even a pool, but all in all, the differences were minimal.

He was now living in a lavish home with a Ferrari and a helicopter pad. Pulled from his comfort zone of relative equality to his friends in his former middle class neighborhood to the extravagance he now knew. Extravagance made him focus more on those at the other extreme.

After taking a deep breath, he changed the subject. "Love the view here Mom," he said as he walked to the patio door and stepped outside, "nice weather today too. Look, not a cloud in the sky."

"Yeah, it's beautiful, isn't it?" She followed him into the patio. "Why don't you invite Tanner and the boys over next weekend? I'd love to see them again. I know you want to spend your time finding a job, but celebrating your accomplishments is important too. Celebrate the semester. I don't mind if you have a couple of drinks, but if anyone drinks, I don't want them to drive. No one should drive after drinking. If they want to stay overnight, we certainly have the rooms."

"Okay. You're right. I'm still going to work on getting a job this week, but I'll open up the weekend for entertaining. Thanks Mom."
Chapter 5

Summer Camp

On Monday morning, the phone rang.

"Hi Nick. This is Bonnie Toth, the summer camp staffing coordinator for the kids in the 9-12 age group."

"Hi."

"I've gone through the resumes and you're qualified for a position as one of our assistant camp coaches. Can you come in this afternoon for an interview? We have a tight schedule as camp starts tomorrow at 9 a.m. We need an assistant coach on the fields from 8:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. five days a week, Monday through Friday, through the end of July."

"Sure!"

"Excellent," Bonnie said just prior to giving Nick directions to the recreation facility.

Later that afternoon, Nick interviewed with Bonnie for the position and was hired. He was thrilled that he'd be starting as a camp coach the following day on the city's football fields.

The following morning, he arrived on the fields at 8:30 a.m. and looked for his new boss, Don Winston. The interviewer told him that Don was a retired professional football player who volunteered for the parks department in its summer camps programs each year. He was a big name in the late 1980s and early 1990s when he played for the Bears and the Bucs. Nick had heard of him before.

"Hi, you must be Don," Nick said as he walked up to a tall, muscular black man who was standing next to a large bag on the sidelines."

"You guessed it. And you're Nick?"

"Yup. This is my first day on the job, so just let me know what you need me to do."

Don pointed to the large bag, "This bag has pockets containing footballs, jerseys, and flags. Go ahead and sort the jerseys by size, pull the flags out and set them up separately, and put the footballs over there." He pointed to a small clearing. "The kids should be here in just a few minutes. There are always some who are early. Oh, and change your shirt into this one." He pulled a red shirt from a separate bag labeled 'coach' on the back.

"Sounds good," Nick said as he changed shirts. He proceeded to sort the equipment as directed.

A few minutes later, a boy walked up.

"Is this the Orange Bay summer football camp?"

"You got it son," Don said. "What's your name?" He grabbed a roster from a bag next to him, along with a pen.

"Danny Perez," he said.

"Um, okay, I see your name. Coach Nick has your gear so you can go ahead and get changed. Feel free to wear the jersey over your shirt if you want, or you can use the port-a-lets to change."

Nick handed him a jersey and a belt with the flags and the boy put the shirt on over his own. He went to the bleachers where he sat down and waited for the rest of the kids to show up. Other boys followed and soon they numbered twenty. Full house.

Don blew the whistle to let everyone know that it was time to start. "Okay kids, come on over here and let's form a huddle. My name is Coach Don and I'm here with Coach Nick. Your first plan of action is to listen closely. I'm going to share the rules of the game with you, along with the city's rules of the field, before we begin."

The kids formed a circle around Don. Two of the boys, Parker and Aiden, sat next to one another and nudged one another. They nudged one another again. Nick walked over and said, "Hey, cool it. You guys have to listen to Coach Don. It's all about respect, authority, and rewards. The rewards are great if you play by the rules."

"Hey, don't you play for State? You look familiar," Aiden said.

"Yeah, backup quarterback. I haven't had much playing time. Surprised you recognize me."

"I know all of the players on State. I hope to go there one day on a football scholarship. My uncle went there a while back on a football scholarship.

"That's great. Well, work hard and play smart and you'll increase your chances."

"Thanks Coach," Aiden said.

Nick studied Aiden. He had a thick build and dark brown eyes and a dark brown complexion. He looked like a young football player. He got up and moved away from Parker and sat down next to another boy a few feet away. Parker watched him as he left and shook his head. His freckled face framed his down-turned, saucer-shaped hazel eyes, which shone under his straight, matted brown hair. He was leaner and taller than his counterpart.

Coach Don blew his whistle and said, "Boys, are you ready to listen."

A halfhearted "yes" followed.

"That's 'yes sir!'"

"Yes sir," they replied in unison.

"Yes sir," Coach Don said loudly, "I can't hear your voices when you whisper like that.

"Yes sir!"

"Good. Let's play some flag football. The rules of the field include no swearing, only sportsmanship-like conduct, no littering, no animals, and treating each other and your coaches with respect. Can you all play by the rules?

"Yes sir!"

"Good. The rules of the game are consistent with those of regulation football, but there is absolutely no tackling. We don't want any concussions or other injuries. You understand?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good. I understand you've all played before and are familiar with the rules of the game, so let's get started." He separated the group into two teams randomly and all took to the field. Coach Don led the game and the calls, while Nick rotated the players on an off of the field. While doing so, he had a chance to get to know a few players, including Aiden and Parker.

"Coach, can I go in now?" Parker asked after rotating out of the game for two downs.

"Hold on, after this down you'll go in for Jackson."

"Okay," he said as he looked out onto the field, "Coach, how about if I go in for Aiden? He's playing QB and that's what I do best."

"No, right now you'll go in for Jackson. Aiden hasn't been on the field for very long. I'm going to rotate everyone through all of the positions to see what fits you best. You'll play both defense and offense."

"Okay Coach."

Nick could tell that Parker and Aiden had a history with one another, and seemed to want to pick on each other, so he figured he'd keep them separate that first day. They seemed fine when acting individually, as both seemed respectful when away from the other. He decided to get them to focus on teamwork over the course of the summer program. Kids need to learn to get along with one another.

A couple of hours later, the group went for lunch, sitting at the picnic tables between the football and baseball fields.

"Did everyone bring a lunch?" Don asked.

"Yes sir!" A few answered.

"No sir!"

"Okay, who needs a lunch?" He asked. To Nick's surprise, fourteen of the twenty kids hadn't brought their lunches.

"Don," he whispered, "didn't they know they were supposed to bring their lunches?"

"Of course they knew. Most of them come from impoverished families, so they're sent here without food. I supply it to them. That's my way of giving back." He opened a large cooler, which he'd lugged to the picnic tables from his truck during the practice break, and pulled out twenty large bags containing sandwiches, carrots, and apples. He further distributed bottled waters, bags of chips, cookies, and extra sandwiches for the especially hungry. Many seemed especially hungry, and Don was prepared. Nick was inspired.

"This is great, Don. I really like what you're doing. I'll bring the food and drinks tomorrow!"

"You don't have to do that Nick. That will probably eat up all of the money you're earning here. No, that's my way of giving back. I had a successful career in the pros, so I need to do something. You can do something else." He paused for a minute and added, "The kids really need a mentor. I'm a mentor to them, but you're closer to their age. They'll probably better relate to you. See those kids Parker and Aiden over there," he said as he pointed to the two Nick had talked to earlier.

"Yeah."

"They're two Collins' kids, from a community foster home. They could use a mentor. Both have had troubled pasts and they need a good role model. Lead by example, Nick, and you'll make a tremendous difference in the kids' lives."

Nick studied Parker and Aiden. They didn't seem troubled, per se, but they were picking on each other. "Just like brothers," he thought.

"Okay, then. Glad to be a mentor. Thanks Don." He walked over to the table where Parker and Aiden were sitting and took a seat in the middle.

"Hey guys. Good to see you today."

"Thanks Coach," Aiden said. Parker and the others chimed in a "thank you" as well.

They made a bit of small talk while eating their lunches. When lunch was finished, all got up and threw away their bags, napkins, and cups and prepared to return to the field. That's when Nick decided to talk to Aiden a bit more."

"So, what brings you here? Love of football?" Nick asked.

"Yup. Love of football. Sometimes I just need to get out. You probably know that I'm one of the Collins' kids. Parker is one too. My parents are dead. Died a couple of years ago. Car accident. My dad was driving. Drunk."

"Geez, I'm so sorry to hear that Aiden."

"He was always drunk. And mean. But I loved my mom. She never drank like him. She should have been driving that night instead of him." Aiden wiped a tear from his eye.

"Hey, thanks for opening up with me on that. I'm sure it's hard to tell people."

"Thanks. What's worse is that my uncle adopted my little brother. He said he couldn't handle both of us. It's just not fair."

"Be strong Aiden. Have faith in your future. I know you'll do great things one day," Nick said as he looked behind Aiden and noticed Parker, who appeared to be eavesdropping.

"Hey there, Parker."

"Hey."

"So you're a Collins' kid too?"

"Yup. Life sucks for me. But the home isn't that bad."

"Wanna open up about it?"

"Nope," Parker said.

"No problem. I'm here for you."

Nick watched Parker as he ran across the field to gather his gear for further practice.

"His parents are in prison. They were addicts and had a meth house," Aiden said.

"Wow. That's a tough one," Nick said.

"Yeah. Well, I'm going to grab my gear," Aiden said, just before running across the field.

"Sounds good."

Nick took notes on each of the kids' talents as he assisted Coach Don during the practice. He determined that they all had something to offer the team, and that several were blessed with extraordinary athletic talents. They could even secure college scholarships if directed properly. "They just need the right guidance," he said to himself, "and to stay out of trouble in their later school years when trouble always rears its ugly head."

***

After practice, Nick again walked up to Aiden and Parker.

"Hey, it was great practicing with you guys today. I can see you've both got a lot of talent. Aiden, you're a natural out there. Great arm and great throw. And Parker, wow! You run faster than most of the guys I know on the college fields. Keep it up, boys, and you'll make names for yourselves."

Aiden looked at him, "Thanks Coach. Your words mean a lot to us."

"Yeah, thanks Coach. See you tomorrow," Parker added.

Nick watched them with a smile as they left the field and climbed into a white van that was waiting for them in the parking lot. He wanted to help those two kids, and he wanted to find out more about the Collins' Foster Home and about the other kids there. He recalled success stories from Barbara Collins' speech at the luncheon. "Hopefully they'll find success," he thought.

He watched them climb into the van and close its door. Then his eyes turned to its driver. A woman. Drawing closer, he realized that he knew the woman: Piper McCoy.

"Wow! What a coincidence." His eyes opened widely as he took a deep breath.

"More than a coincidence," he huffed as he began strolling towards the parking lot. He _had_ to say hello. This was too much. This was....meant to be. His pace picked up as he watched her turn her head and look at him. Tilting her chin up with a slight smile, she acknowledged him and backed the van out of its parking spot. Then she changed gears into forward and drove away.

"Nice to see you too," he whispered.

As he walked back towards the field, his thoughts moved away from Piper and back to the kids. His first day on the new job had been great. "This isn't even like work. It's fun. I'm helping them and, actually, they're helping me."
Chapter 6

Must Have Won the Lottery

Tanner plugged Nick's new address into the navigator on his cell phone before leaving his condo, just west of Orange Bay. He tossed his overnight bag in the bed of this truck, hopped into the front seat, and backed out of the parking lot. Before long he was on Bayfront Drive. Soon he saw the O'Brien home, and Bob in the driveway smoking a cigar. He pulled up next to him and parked.

"Dude! Long time, no see. What's the good word?" He asked as he climbed out of his truck.

"Whole lotta nada. Looking forward to tipping a few. Brought the cigars. Swisher Sweets." Bob took a long pull on his cigar.

"How's that Swisher?"

"Sweet." Bob exhaled, blowing smoke from both his mouth and nose. His get-up was amusing; always played the redneck part well, even though he was originally from Michigan. This day he donned a cowboy hat, snakeskin boots, a button-down plaid shirt, and a pair of khaki shorts, which exposed his knobby knees.

"Nice duds. You kill me, man." Tanner laughed as he grabbed his bag from the bed of his truck. Bob pulled what he could from the end of his cigar before throwing it to the ground and smashing it with his boots. He didn't appear to have an overnight bag.

"Didn't want to walk into the McMansion alone," he said. "First I thought he won the lottery. Then I googled his mom while waiting for you. She's a big time CEO now. Probably should have worn my best boots and ironed my shirt." Bob laughed, exposing his crooked teeth and a piece of tobacco. "But, nah. That would be takin' it too far."

"Far upgrade to the old crib, huh?" Tanner said. He glanced down at Bob's worn boots and said, "No worries on the get up; you know that Nick's a casual dude. It's all about flip flops, cowboy boots, and good times."

Tanner considered his own tousled blonde mop, wrinkled fishing shirt, and flip flops to be fine attire in the home of his good friend. At least he'd washed. He was all about cleanliness. Unlike Bob. When they reached the front door, he knocked. A dog barked. "Must be Chipper," he said to Bob.

A couple of minutes later, Nick opened the door, wearing an outfit almost identical to Tanner's. His well-coiffed dark hair contrasted his recently whitened teeth. Tanner made a note to whiten his own teeth.

"Thanks for coming," he said, "Come on in."

They followed Nick into the house.

"This place is awesome," Tanner said.

"Thanks." Nick replied, still walking toward the kitchen.

As they reached the kitchen, Tanner watched Bob checking himself out in the mirror on the wall. There was a wink just before he said, "Hey, I gotta hit the head. Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, it's down the hallway to the right," Nick said as he pointed to the hallway.

Tanner followed Nick around the island in the center of the kitchen where both found a swivel bar chair to sit on. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Nick's mom as she came out of a back room and walked into the kitchen.

"Good to see you, Tanner. I heard another voice. Was that Bobnoxious?"

"Yeah, he's in the bathroom. Good to see you too. Love your new house."

"Thank you."

Tanner swiveled his chair to get a glimpse of the view outside. "Great view!" He could see a flock of doves as they flew together in the distant sky over the bay.

"We really like it too. It's peaceful here. Can I get you something to drink? We have soda, orange juice, apple juice, beer, or bottled water."

"I'll take a soda," Tanner answered, wanting to impress Nick's mom and trying not to seem anxious for beer, though he knew he'd have a few later, just to be social.

"That works for me too. Thanks, Mom."

She grabbed two bottles of soda out of the refrigerator and placed them in front of Tanner and Nick on the kitchen island.

"Thanks, Mrs. O'Brien," Tanner said.

"You're always welcome, Tanner. Well, I've got to finish a report. It was good seeing you," she said. "I'll be back in a little while to say hello to Bob."

"Nice seeing you again too."

Tanner watched her head back into her home office. She seemed different than she was in their old neighborhood, more attentive to a professional appearance. In the past, he'd seen her donning much more casual outfits.

"My mom's still the same, always working, traveling, or in her home office. Married to her job and its golden handcuffs." Nick said.

"Well her success shows," Tanner said. "This place is awesome!"

Nick nodded with a half-smile, "Yeah, but you can't take it with you."

Tanner smiled at Nick. He understood Nick's response.

"Have you tried out the church just up the road? I see it's a fellowship church in the same denomination as ours. I wouldn't mind going to the service there tomorrow morning." Tanner said.

"No, I haven't been there. My mom doesn't do church, but I'm game."

A few minutes later, Bob entered the room and plopped himself down in a bar chair. "This is good stuff, buddy," he said as he looked around. "Nice crib."

Nick stood up and went to the fridge. "Beer, soda, or water."

"Really, Nick, you have to ask? C'mon."

Nick grabbed three beers and handed two to his friends. "You guys bring your swim trunks?"

"Nope, but don't worry. I'll keep the shorts on."

"Good!"

"I've got mine," Tanner said. He got up and said, "I'll be right back."

When Tanner returned, Nick led them onto the patio.

"I'm gonna fire up the grill in a little while. We have burgers, dogs, and chicken. You name it and I'll cook it. Oh, and check this out." He opened a large cooler, stuffed to the brims with waters, sodas, beers and ice.

"Cool. I'll eat what you're eating. What's good for you is good for me," Tanner said as he plopped himself on a chaise lounge and looked over at Bob.

"Yeah, I'm game buddy. Whatever you feel like cooking. I'm drinking."

Bob paused for a few moments before adding, "Hey, tomorrow I'm going bungee jumping with Flypaper and some girls he met last weekend. Nothing like bungee jumping in the woods. You guys wanna come?"

"No thanks. Doing something with Marlis tomorrow," Tanner said.

"Yeah, thanks but I've got other plans tomorrow. I might be game some other time," Nick added.

Bob started peeling off his cowboy boots, which exposed a yellowed pair of socks and his sweaty calves. He rolled off his sticky socks and freed himself from his shirt, before removing his cowboy hat. That exposed his dark brown hair, which was matted down on top of his head and matched the patch of fuzz in the center of his pasty white chest.

After standing up and stretching, he grabbed a couple of pool floats and jumped into the pool, making a hearty splash. "Wonder what the poor people are doing today? Ha! Yo, Tanner. Can you hand me my beer and hat?"

Tanner handed him his stuff and caught a glimpse of his dirty fingernails. Sharing the same water with Bob was going to be painful, but he'd have to suck it up. Chlorine. Thank God for that.

He sat back down on the chaise and guzzled down a beer. It tasted good chilled, like liquid gold. He'd have to pace himself though. Didn't want to get drunk. "Just a few beers," he told himself, "Just a few."

But that wouldn't be easy with Bobnoxious around. The last time he saw Bob, he was drunk on a boat in a lightning storm. He recalled that night and the way it had started out as so many nights with Bob do. With alcohol. Alcohol probably fueled Bob's plan.

Tanner pictured him on his patio that night as he said, "We're always talking about old stories. Regurgitation blows. Let's make some new stories. I'll fire up the boat. You with me for some night skiing?" Lightning wasn't in the plans, but Bob probably figured that the lightning was a bonus. "Now he can tell a story about fools," he thought. "Fools lucky to be alive."

A few minutes later, he jumped in the pool, followed by Nick. The three basked at opposite ends and listened to country music, which blared from the patio speakers. The beers started flowing and Bob started telling stories about Flypaper, which cracked Nick and Tanner up. Tanner had heard some of the stories before, but Bob's new tweaks made them better.

Suddenly Bob had a serious look. "Dude, I hope you're planning a gig here. This place is a chick magnet with serious scoring potential."

Nick laughed, "Yeah, I'm thinking about it."

"Well think harder, pun intended," Bob said as he pulled himself out of the pool and strolled over to a palm tree, where he relieved himself.

"So classy. At least he didn't do it in the pool," Tanner thought.

***

"Barefoot Bluejean Night" by Jake Owen was the last song Tanner remembered hearing. A cheeseburger was the last thing he remembered eating. What he couldn't remember when he woke up on the chaise lounge by the pool was the number of beers he'd drunk. Or when Bob and Nick left. Or where Nick told him he'd be sleeping.

He walked into the house and spotted the time: 3:13 a.m. Creeping through the kitchen and towards the front door, his steps were silent on the marble floors. The stairs jutted out in front of him as he approached the front door, and he turned to his left and climbed up them.

No one was occupying a room halfway down the hallway. Now he was in the bed in that room.

"Just a few beers. Yeah, right. Just a few beers." He felt disgusted with himself as he slipped himself under the covers of a queen-size bed and fell asleep.
Chapter 7

Lowly Women

Nick woke up the next morning, showered, and put on a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. He headed down the stairs and out the front door for the paper. That's when he noticed that only Tanner's truck was still in the driveway. Bob's was gone. He walked back into the house and into the kitchen and looked out onto the patio. Tanner was no longer on the chaise, yet his shoes were by its side. "Good. Must be upstairs sleeping."

"I need to go to church," he thought to himself.

His mom strolled out of the downstairs' master bedroom a short while later. She'd already jogged, showered, and appeared ready for the day.

"Top of the morning to you, Mom," Nick said with a smile.

"Top of the morning to you too!" She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out some orange juice.

"Would you like to join us? We're going to church today, to the big fellowship church just down the road."

"No, no thanks. I have work to do," she said as she sat down on one of the swivel bar stools along the kitchen island.

"Are you sure, Mom? It's always good to learn about God. I've learned a lot at church."

"Well that's special Nick, but I'm not a fan of the church. There's too much corruption, too many cover-ups, and too few women in leadership positions."

"Mom, I know there are some bad people in the church, but they shouldn't ruin the whole bunch. Believe me. I've learned a lot from the good ones."

"For what?" She stammered, "How are you going to use this knowledge? Church knowledge certainly doesn't pay the bills. Plus they expect you to give them ten percent of your salary in tithes, which would be around $1.2 million dollars annually for us. There could be a better use of your time, and your money. I'd rather give my hard-working employees raises." She paused and added, "The average pay for median employees in my organization is $35,000. I'd like to raise that to $40,000, but of course that would go against our board's desires to keep payroll costs to a minimum."

Nick pulled out a calculator and said, "So you make just over 342 times the average worker in your company? And if you gave them the $5,000 raise, you'd be making three hundred times the average worker. Seems a bit much."

"Oh, Nick, that's the norm in U.S. firms. Look it up," she snapped. "Plus, I work harder than my employees and I've put in my time!"

Nick thought, "Not 342 times harder," but he decided to keep that quiet. She seemed testy, so he figured he'd get back to the original topic.

"Mom, you should know that it's important to learn about Jesus."

"Jesus," she sighed, "that famous myth."

"I thought you said you believed in him," Nick said, feeling a great sense of disappointment. Now he knew why she'd never brought him to church.

"Yeah, I believe he lived. I just don't believe everything they've written about him, such as how he walked on water, turned water to wine, and turned a few loaves of bread and pieces of fish into enough food for thousands. That stuff was written later by people to perpetuate the myth and control the masses through religion. People needed controls in those days."

Nick's heart sank. Deep down, he knew she was wrong, but standing up to her was difficult. He respected her in so many ways, and her worldly knowledge far exceeded his.

"When I was your age, I believed in Jesus too. And when I was younger than that, I also believed in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. My mom taught me to be a believer and we went to church every Sunday all throughout my childhood.

Then I went to college and started reading books by philosophers. Famous ones like Friedrich Nietzsche. That's when I realized that Jesus is only a myth whose persona was developed by men after he died to control people. Look around the world. Most wars are waged over religion. Consider World War II, the battles in Northern Ireland, the genocides, and all of the terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists. It's all about religion and religious control. The world would be a better place without religion and religious controls. We don't need religion anymore."

"That's your opinion and I have mine." he said. "I'm still going to church. I'm not going to risk my salvation and I wish you wouldn't risk yours."

His mom shook her head and smiled, "Please Nick. Get realistic. Kids in their twenties are always so idealistic and liberal. They all want to save the world. By the time you reach your forties, you understand the way the world works, so you shift to conservatism. You can't save the world so you worry about saving yourself."

"Mom, can you imagine a world in which everyone's out for themselves? It would be an ugly place, devoid of empathy and full of selfishness. The greatest example of selflessness is in Jesus. Look at the way he died for us. Look at the sacrifices he made for us so that we can go to Heaven. You do believe he died on the cross, right? You do believe that he suffered, right?

"Yes, there's proof of that from Roman and Jewish historians," she responded, "Even Nietzsche acknowledges his death on the cross, yet goes on to say that he was merely a teacher and a political criminal who simply fought against the world order of his time."

"You're scaring me Mom. I'm worried about you."

"Please, Nick, grow up! Your beliefs only reflect your age and your lack of knowledge. Read Nietzsche and the other philosophers of his time. They were able to see past Christianity and religion."

"Nietzsche? I'm not reading his crap." Nick was frustrated. He couldn't keep arguing with her and he'd just have to accept the fact that she wouldn't be joining him at church that morning. Or ever.

But at least she believed that Jesus had lived and had acknowledged his death on the cross. That was a start. The pastor at the church at State had indicated that the 1.6 billion Muslims in the world refused to acknowledge the historical Roman and Jewish texts outside of the Bible that documented his death on the cross. Their prophet Muhammad said that Jesus was merely a prophet.

His thoughts returned to his mom. He knew that she was watching him from her seat along the kitchen island when he let out a loud huff as he pulled a dozen eggs from the refrigerator and started to beat them viciously with a fork in a bowl. She finished her juice and put the glass into the dishwasher, before returning to her office.

***

A short while later, Tanner, freshly showered and shaved, appeared in the kitchen in a pair of khaki pants and a slightly wrinkled pink button down shirt.

"Perfect timing my good friend, breakfast is served," Nick said as he placed Tanner's steaming hot plate of eggs, bacon, and toast on the kitchen island.

"Looks great. Thanks!"

"You wanna eat on the porch?"

"Sure, sounds good."

Nick and Tanner carried their plates onto the porch and Nick went to the cooler for bottled waters. Then they relaxed and enjoyed their meals.

"Rough night last night, dude," Tanner said, "How many beers did you drink? I lost count myself."

"Three."

"Really? Geez. I think I had ten. Don't even know. But what I do know is that I've got a headache that'd kill a horse," Tanner lamented as he chugged down his water.

"Yeah, drinking is so easy," Nick said as he looked at Tanner's bloodshot eyes.

"It's just so easy to drink on a hot day with good friends and good music," Tanner said.

"Yeah," Nick said, "and Bob. Man, that guy cracks me up."

"You know he'll keep working in his cabinet shop until he's ninety. He and his dad are doing well. They've got all kinds of business in North Orange Bay. Builders have been calling, subbing them jobs. Bob's loving it."

"That's cool. He's a hard worker. Hard worker and hard drinker," Nick said.

"So true."

After they finished, they carried their plates and water bottles to the kitchen and put them in the sink and garbage, respectively. It was time for church.

***

When Nick walked into the church, the first and only person he recognized was Barbara Collins, the woman who'd inspired everyone with the work she'd done to help foster children at the women's luncheon. Barbara was sitting in the first row, and Nick and Tanner sat in the row behind her. Her silver hair reflected against the lights of the church as she turned around and greeted Nick with a smile. "I remember you from the luncheon. I hope you and your mom are doing well." Her sapphire eyes shone brightly but her body seemed a little weaker.

"Yes, we are. Thank you. It's good to see you. This is our first time to this church. My name's Nick and this is my friend, Tanner."

"Hello, Nick and Tanner. I've been coming here for more years than I can remember. You'll like this church," she said softly before turning back around.

Nick reflected on her story.

"What a brave woman," he thought, "battling cancer yet still inspiring others. She's an inspiration to us all."

The choir started singing songs and everyone stood up to sing and praise the Lord. Tears came to Nick's eyes as he sang along. Feeling good, he knew that he was where Jesus wanted him to be; praising him, loving him, and learning about him.

When the songs ended, the pastor walked to the stage. After a few introductions and greetings, he began his sermon.

"Consider the world today and the way it's different from the world in biblical times. Life was difficult back then as people suffered from the constant threats of plagues, leprosy, and other maladies not prevalent in the developed world today. Beheadings and stoning were common. Death was always around the corner, so people found comfort in prayer."

"When hardships aren't knocking, people often forget to pray. And many aren't praying regularly in the United States as they only turn to prayer during times of hardship. That's where there is a paradox. Even though life is easier in these times, life is more dangerous than it's ever been. Some people feel they just don't need God, and religion has nothing to offer them."

"That's just the way that Satan wants it. He thinks the earth is his wonderland and he's scheming and plotting for ways to destroy you and your fellow humans. Complacency is his best friend. Materialism and abundance are his lovers."

"Satan loves complacency because it blinds us to the injustices occurring around the world, preventing us from using God's gifts to bring about change. Many of our fellow humans are facing incomprehensible daily struggles, not just struggles for food and shelter, but struggles for basic human rights."

"Let's put aside our complacency and focus on those in need. Consider Nigeria, where the Boko Haram recently kidnapped almost three hundred girls from their school and forced them to convert to Islam and memorize chapters of the Qur'an. Their leaders bragged of the rapes, mutilations and the way the girls were married off to their captors. Boko Haram, translated to English means 'western education is sin.'"

"ISIS, the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria, has also been gaining power. They've marked Christian homes with the Arabic 'n' symbol, which stands for Nazarene, a derogatory term for Christians. Homes with the n symbol are doomed to persecution. In some places, they've been told to flee, convert to Muslim, or die by the sword. Thousands have fled and today there are no more Christians in Mosul, which is the historical Ninevah where God had sent Jonah. Those who refused to convert to Muslim and ended up dying by the sword are now residing in Heaven. And their killers, who chose to live by the sword, will die by the sword, as Jesus foretold in Matthew 26:52."

"The Arab region is the setting of the Bible. And just like it was in biblical times, women are still afforded few rights there. In Afghanistan and Pakistan, for example, women are forced to wear full body veils, or burqas, and aren't allowed an education. Stories of brave women seeking education, and being murdered for it, abound. In those countries plus many others, it's not uncommon to witness women being stoned for adultery, yet not tried properly or fairly in courts for the offenses their husbands claim. In Saudi Arabia, women are prohibited from driving cars. They can only be chauffeured by males. In many countries of the Arab world, women are treated as they were treated during biblical times, as possessions or dogs."

"Some claim the Bible to be a fictional tale of symbolism, perpetuated to instill beliefs and control others. Well, consider this. If the Bible were only fiction, why would its authors permit a woman, Mary Magdalene, to be the first to discover Jesus' empty tomb? Jesus' resurrection was the single most important claim in the New Testament. Jesus' resurrection was the claim that inspired Christianity and billions of believers in following years. Jesus' resurrection was the claim that changed the world. Yet the Bible tells us that lowly _women_ made that discovery."

He paused and then continued, "God ordained men to hold many of the leadership positions in the church, yet Jesus proved that he loves women equally. He demonstrated his love by allowing Mary Magdalene and other women to discover his empty tomb. He bucked tradition and his times in favor of the meek, the humble, and the persecuted. And just before his death, he rode in to Jerusalem on a humble donkey, as predicted hundreds of years earlier in the book of Zechariah (9:9): 'See your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, a colt, the foal of a donkey.'"

The pastor paused before leading the congregation in a prayer.
Chapter 8

The Lunch, the Homeless Man, and the Seagull

By four that afternoon, Nick's mom had finished most of the work she'd intended to do that weekend. He watched her walk into the family room and saw her look at the Bible he was holding. She couldn't know that he was building a case for Jesus, especially for her.

"Nick," she said, "what do you think of heading out to a nice lunch at the Beachfront Grill in St. Stephen's? It's beautiful outside. I could go for some grilled seafood and a bit of reggae."

Nick smiled and stood up. "That sounds great Mom. I'm gonna get changed. You want to go now, right?"

"Works for me."

Nick was excited about having lunch with his favorite girl, his mom. She was always working, so relaxing with her to the tunes of steel drums and reggae singers was going to be a treat.

Skipping every two stairs, he charged up to his room to change into his shorts, flip flops, and a t-shirt, which bore a large picture of a sailfish on its back. His teeth felt a little fuzzy, so he brushed them again and combed his hair into place, applying gel to keep it from flying around in the wind in the Ferrari. He considered his teeth and hair to be his two best assets.

After returning to the stairs, he grabbed the stair rail and skipped every three stairs down before landing in the hallway on his way to the family room. His mom was waiting for him on the couch with a copy of BusinessWeek in her hand.

"Ready?" She asked.

"More than ready."

They walked to the garage and opened it. He didn't need to ask her whether they'd be taking the Ferrari. It was a given. His Mustang wasn't even considered.

Nick slipped into the passenger seat and watched his mom climb into the driver's seat before igniting the engine and pulling out of the driveway. They were off. They headed south along Peace Boulevard before getting on the skyway bridge to St. Stephen's.

As they started crossing over the bridge, Nick watched a variety of yachts, powerboats and sailboats as they moved about in the water. Fishermen, boaters, and water skiers of all ages were enjoying that hot summer day on the bay. They appeared as specks in the distance, yet he could feel their excitement on the water. Being on the bay was an exhilarating experience and one of the great benefits of living in Florida. He gazed at that water and felt his short hair as it battled the salty breeze and his skin as it drank in the warmth of the sun.

"Perfect weather today," he said.

"Definitely."

The Ferrari glistened in the sun as it headed down the tall bridge over the bay and into St. Stephen's. Nick noticed an old Volkswagen bus and a row of battered and aged cars parked along the Bayfront beach, which butted up against the roadway. Dark-skinned families were gathered by picnic tables and grills and umbrellas. Small kids were playing on the beach, clutching buckets and shovels, with their caretakers standing nearby, knee high in the water with fishing poles.

None appeared to be in his new class, he thought, the upper class. They were probably enjoying a rare day of fun between the long work weeks in their low-paying jobs. Or maybe they didn't have jobs or couldn't find jobs. Maybe some lived there, using their beat up cars and vans as their shelters and the public restrooms and ocean as their amenities and source of food.

He wondered whether those fishing were fishing for sport or for dinner. And he considered whether they needed to fish to eat dinner or simply to make ends meet. One small child lifted her head up from her sandcastle project and pointed to the red Ferrari, which made Nick feel a little uncomfortable.

He looked over at his mom. She was wearing a long aquamarine-colored sundress, with matching sandals and oversized gold hoop earrings. Her short-bobbed, blonde hair, which was usually sprayed firmly in place, blew freely in the wind, expressing a rare moment of freedom from her role as a CEO.

"I wonder if the people fishing are catching their dinners," Nick said.

"Could be."

"Well if so, I hope they catch what they need," he said. "I feel sort of guilty passing them in the Ferrari. So many people have nothing and are struggling these days."

She sighed. "Nick, you've developed such a soft heart for the poor. Where did that come from? I know your dad was missing the empathy gene, so it didn't come from him. I draw a distinction between the truly needy and those too lazy to advance themselves. You should draw the same distinction. Most people are just lazy. If they worked hard, they'd be CEOs too. Everyone makes choices. People can choose hard work or they can choose to take it easy. They can choose between getting an education and staying in dead-end jobs."

"Mom, I don't think people necessarily choose to take it easy or stay in dead-end jobs. Some may not care about money or possessions. Maybe they'd rather serve as missionaries or live simple lives in simple jobs. Some can't get through school. Maybe they can't pass calculus or write a paper. It's not because they're lazy. It's because they were born without minds for education."

"You make some good points, Nick, but there are other options for those without book smarts if they want to make money. You don't need to be a brain scientist to make a good living in real estate, construction, or the military. Those are just a few examples. It's all about making the right choices and having a strong work ethic."

Nick reflected on her words. She turned down the exit and before long arrived at the Beachfront Grill.

As they pulled up to the valet, Nick noticed a middle-aged man sitting nearby on the sidewalk bordering the street wearing a scruffy pair of jeans and a bleached-out plaid button-down shirt. His face was full of hair and his sandy blonde hair was knotted and straggly. The exposed skin on his face and hands was sunburned in a deep tomato-like color. He looked up at Nick as he climbed out of the Ferrari and held up a sign, "Will work for food."

Nick reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, the only bill in his wallet. His mom came around the car and grabbed Nick's arm.

"I hope you're not giving that to the bum! He'll just use it to buy alcohol or drugs. The bums have been overrunning the businesses here lately. There are way too many of them and their population is growing. If this continues, they'll be putting the retail establishments out of business. The beach will be filled with dilapidated buildings and bums. No one wants to see them and no one wants them here. Feeding them with money is like feeding the seagulls. Can't get rid of them either."

Nick looked at the man again, who didn't appear to be drunk, but did appear despondent. Tired and worn, he looked as if he'd fought a war and lost. Maybe he had fought in a war. Maybe he'd served in the military. He put his money back in his pocket and walked into the restaurant behind his mom.

A voice sounded itself in his mind, directing him back to the man. When his mom went to use the restroom, Nick hurried out the front door and over to the man, who appeared to be watching the cars as they sped along the road in front of the restaurant.

"Here you go, man," he said as he handed him the twenty, "God bless you."

The man looked at him with piercing green eyes and smiled, exposing several missing teeth. "God bless you," he said as he pulled himself up from the ground and stretched. "I'm gonna get me some food." Nick watched him as he strolled across the street and into a fast-food restaurant.

Hopefully he hadn't heard what his mom had said. The poor guy needed some dignity.

He returned to the restaurant and found his mom reading the menu at a table outside, across the patio from the band, overlooking the ocean. Facing the ocean, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

"Mom, I gave him the twenty bucks anyway. He needed food and I watched him go across the street and into a fast food restaurant."

"Small miracles. Most bums head into the liquor store after you give them money."

"Not the one we saw." Nick grabbed the menu and scanned it. "Shrimp, burgers, pork, yum."

"I'll probably get a salad with iced tea," she said.

Nick studied his options, finally deciding on the bacon burger. He closed his menu.

A few minutes later, a man in his early forties stepped up to the table with a pad of paper and a pen in his hand. "Hi, my name's Miguel," he said cheerfully, "What can I get you to drink? Rum runners are two-for-one right now and we're running a special on house wines and beers.

Nick felt a strong urge to order a beer, but considered his company.

"I'll take an unsweetened iced tea," Nick's mom answered.

"I'll take an iced tea too, but sweetened," Nick said.

Miguel left to get their drinks, just as the band members returned to the stage. The sounds of steel drums and Caribbean beats soon permeated the air. The singer in the band wore a Jamaican red, black, and gold woven hat over his dreadlocks and somewhat resembled the late Bob Marley. He sang his "Three Little Birds" and "No Woman No Cry" songs just as Bob would have sung them.

The restaurant was starting to fill up, which was likely due to a combination of the music, the salty sea air, the happy hour, and the early bird specials. The latter probably attracted the large number of older patrons who were now sitting at the tables around Nick and his mom. "Not too shabby. Probably spend a lot of time here."

"Here are your drinks. Are you ready to order?" Miguel asked as he set the drinks in front of them.

"In just a moment, Miguel," his mom said.

"OK, no worries and no rush. We have plenty of time. So, are you here on vacation?"

"No, we live here," Catherine responded, still studying the menu.

"It's nice here, isn't it," Miguel said.

"Very nice. We love this place," she said.

Nick noticed the way she avoided his eye contact as she answered his questions. He'd make up for that.

"Yeah, it's awesome here," Nick said as he looked into Miguel's smoky eyes. "How long have you been working here?"

"Ten years, just had my ten year anniversary."

"Congratulations!" Nick said, "Did you celebrate?"

"Sure, I went out with the other servers after work. They bought me a few drinks."

Nick saw his mom turn her head towards him as he asked, "How about the owners? Did they recognize you?"

"Yeah, they recognized I've been here ten years, after I told them. They don't keep track of those sorts of things." He chuckled.

"Well, I'm ready to order," Nick's mom said.

Miguel pulled out his notepad and pen.

"I'll take the grilled salmon salad with the balsamic vinaigrette dressing on the side, cooked medium rare."

"I'll take the bacon burger, cooked medium well with the fries and ketchup. No pickles or tomatoes, please."

"Okay, I'll put your order in and be back soon. Enjoy the atmosphere."

Miguel left and walked over to another table.

"Choices, Nick, choices. We recognize our employees for years of service. They wouldn't have to let us know. In fact, I feel like I know each and every one of them. I may not know them by name, but I never forget a face. We celebrate every ten years of service with a lavish ceremony and each employee gets a check for a thousand dollars. That's when I connect the faces to the names, when I'm handing them the check."

"A thousand bucks is generous mom. I'm sure they appreciate that."

The band continued with another reggae song and Nick's thoughts turned to the music as he waited for his burger. Relaxing in his chair, he breathed in the salty air and enjoyed his surroundings. Young teenage girls and boys played volleyball over a net in the near distance. Pelicans and seagulls were hovering overhead, periodically landing to scoop up any food dropped by the beachgoers. Just above him, the restaurant had lined the open air with fishing pole wire, which kept the birds from taking the patrons' food. Nick appreciated that. The seagulls had a reputation for being aggressive with food by the beach.

Miguel approached with their food and placed their plates down in front of them. The food looked steaming hot and delicious and the aroma of his grilled burger penetrated his senses. He popped the bun off and loaded it up with ketchup and salt. Then he took his first bite.

As he swallowed, a particular seagull caught Nick's attention. It was skipping under the tables and moving closer to their table. Maybe it was hungry.

"Little opportunist," His mom said as she threw a couple of croutons to the ground to feed it, but it ignored the croutons.

"Guess it doesn't like croutons," she said.

Nick threw the seagull a small piece of his hamburger, which the bird also ignored. The bird seemed content just to stand under their table. "Strange bird," Nick thought.

Miguel returned to the table. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, we're good. Some interesting seagulls here," Nick commented.

"For sure," Miguel said, "some say they're like the people. They don't want the handouts, just the attention. Maybe they want attention for their causes."

"And what are seagulls' causes?" Nick's mom asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"They want to help others by showing them beauty, freedom and peace. They don't fight or judge one another. They live simple lives and take from the environment only what's needed. They're just humble creatures with dreams."

"Well said, Miguel," Nick said with a wink.

"Interesting," his mom added in what Nick perceived to be an insincere remark.

***

When Nick arrived home, he went to his room and reflected on his mom's views on the choices that people make. He wondered why some made such poor choices, while others made excellent choices in their lives. He also questioned why some were driven to help others while others were driven to help themselves. Social classes and demographics popped into his head. God's plans and gifts and expectations popped up next.

"What does God expect of the poor, who are often born in such abusive and rough homes? He can't expect them to give much to the church, or work hard, or go to college, or help others when they have so few blessings...can he? And what about the wealthy who make poor decisions or who judge others harshly? How harshly does he judge them? What if they attempt to make amends? When is it too late?"

He flipped open his laptop computer and went to the webpage of his church, wondering whether his pastor had discussed these issues in any of his past sermons, which had been posted on-line. He read a few sermon titles before coming upon one that read, "Social Classes and Expectations." He clicked on the title and adjusted the volume of his computer so he could hear the pastor's sermon, which was as follows.

"Today I'm going to discuss social classes and expectations. A large charitable organization just released a study indicating that forty five percent of Floridian households, or 3.2 million people, can't afford the cost of living. They can't afford basic housing, healthcare, food, childcare, and transportation. Despite our booming tourist industry, almost half of Floridians are struggling, in both the lower and the middle classes. Yet Florida is also home to ten of the world's richest billionaires and is ranked 18th in the country in per capita income. These facts suggest a large gap between the rich and the poor, and economists point out that this gap has grown substantially since the 1970s."

"Some of the wealthy and some in the middle class don't see it. They don't want the attention of the poor and don't want to pay attention to the poor. Perhaps this reasoning is behind the laws in three major Florida cities right now prohibiting people from feeding the homeless in public places. They don't want to see them. They'd prefer to surround themselves by beauty, not by blight."

The pastor read the Prodigal Son parable, which was about a young son who ran off from home and blew his inheritance through lavish living and a wild lifestyle. After he ran out of money, he returned home humbled, and his father was elated when he saw him. So pleased that he'd returned, he threw a celebration for him. His older brother, who'd always lived sensibly in ways his father would appreciate, was furious. His father had never thrown such a party for him.

Nick had heard the story before and had always wondered why the father never celebrated the older son. Surely the older son's efforts and sacrifices should have been recognized. But they weren't, the pastor noted, because the older son was too self-righteous.
Chapter 9

The Fundraiser

Braedon Ramsey pulled onto a side street near the home of the O'Brien's and parked his Camry within a line of cars, which butted up along the curb. He was wearing a dark blue suit and tie, along with a pair of brown shoes that he'd shined up for the occasion. With his camera gear in hand, he followed a group of attendees to the entrance of the mansion.

Within minutes, Braedon was on the outside deck of the O'Brien home surrounded by Kinnaird supporters at his fundraiser. He spotted the governor, who seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with a stocky, bald man in a black suit, the mayor. Time to get the party started.

"Greetings, my name's Braedon Ramsey and I'm with the press. Would you mind if I photographed you two for publicity purposes?"

"Not at all," the governor responded with a warm smile. His slicked-back wavy red hair and Scottish complexion reflected against the setting sun as he towered over the mayor next to him. Both smiled as they adjusted their suits and ties for Braedon's camera.

Braedon snapped a few photos before shaking their hands.

"Thank you, Governor Kinnaird and Mayor Blackburn. I appreciate this opportunity." He said as he turned away. Glancing around the room, Braedon looked for other photo opportunities. And Catherine. Still no sight of the latter.

The attendees at the event had each paid $10,000 for a seat at one of the many tables in the deck areas and living areas of the opulent home. They appeared to be wealthy as they mingled with one another in their Armani suits and designer dresses, which far exceeded the price point of his own slightly tattered suit. Braedon assumed many to be the usual sorts of business people who typically funded the governor's political party.

The governor's platform was focused on reducing taxes through fewer governmental regulations and oversight. He'd promised to put more money in the hands of the working folks in the population by reducing the expenditures to the entitled and the "handouts" to the impoverished. This stance appealed to Braedon and to Catherine, for different reasons. Braedon was focused on fewer governmental regulations and oversight, while he figured that Catherine was focused on reducing taxes to the wealthy.

The governor wouldn't get his vote, however. Convicted felons couldn't vote in Florida without going through an extensive application process. Braedon had no time for that.

He considered the governor's position as he moved through the home capturing photos of the party guests, whom he assumed were in the highest tax brackets, the _uber_ rich. That's when he saw Catherine. She was talking to one of the caterers in her kitchen, and she looked radiant in the cream suit and skirt that she wore, which was draped in a stylish black and cream silk scarf. Her matching cream-colored high-heals perfectly accented her outfit, which exuded wealth. As he watched her, he waited for an opportunity to re-introduce himself.

Her son appeared out of the hallway and walked right up to him. Or one could say that he charged him; he appeared to be on a mission.

"Hi, I'm Nick O'Brien. We met before at the luncheon."

"Well, hi Nick. Yes, I recall meeting you with your mom. This is quite an event," Braedon said as he noticed Nick looking at his ring finger. Had he seen the ring at the luncheon?

"Yes, it is. My mom likes it that way. So, you support the governor?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Well, my mom and I differ on that one. But that's okay. I support my mom."

"Yes, I support your mom as well. I'm glad that she's hosting this event. Quite a turnout. Should be a boon to the party. And you support his opponent?"

"No, I didn't say that. I consider myself an independent. I have my causes, which don't always align with those of either party," Nick responded.

"I see. Well, it was nice talking to you," Braedon said as he moved himself away.

"Yeah," the son said halfheartedly as he moved closer to his mom in the kitchen.

Braedon noticed that Nick was now blocking his access to his mom. And that seemed intentional. It was clear that he must have seen the wedding band at the luncheon. He'd need to buy some time before approaching her again, after his son had moved on.

He turned around and circulated around the party, making small talk with many of the guests and taking numerous photos. The photos were primarily of the governor with his wife and a variety of his constituents, along with photos of people he didn't know and those who appeared to be in the know. Then it was back to Catherine, who was now standing on the veranda.

"What's with the kid?" Nick was again in front of him.

"Hi, Nick."

"Hi."

"You know, I understand why you consider yourself an independent. I should probably tell you why I support the governor and his party. My late wife always supported him and it's my little way of carrying that torch. I'm not really a political junkie. I don't really follow either party, but I want to show support for my deceased wife. She passed away a couple of years ago after a long battle with cancer. I loved her dearly."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. I'm sure things haven't been easy for you. You have my prayers."

"Thank you." Braedon said as he watched Nick walk into another room. The obstacle was now gone.

"Hi, Catherine," he said as he held out his hand to shake Catherine's.

"Well, hello. Are you enjoying the fundraiser? We've far exceeded estimates. At least half of the crowd more than doubled the $10,000 required for a seat at a table."

"That's very impressive indeed! I've taken some excellent photos. Would you be interested in meeting with me tomorrow over lunch so that I can show them to you, for your approval prior to publication?"

"Sure, that sounds like a fine plan. Where would you like to meet?"

"How about the Bayfront Restaurant at noon?"

"Done. I'll add it to my calendar. By some good fortune, I have nothing else on my calendar tomorrow. See you then," she said as she smiled before turning her attention to one of the caterers.

Braedon smiled back. He'd done what he intended to do, so he packed up his camera and exited the party.
Chapter 10

The Beach, the Beer, and the Cowboy Hat

The sun shone brightly through Nick's bedroom window as he decided that a day at the beach was in order. He slipped on his gear, jumped into his Mustang, and headed over to Tanner's place to pick him up. On the way, he picked up a twelve-pack of beer, bottled water, and a bag of pork rinds from a convenience store.

Soon the two friends were cruising along the highway heading south towards Siesta Key with songs of escape by Jimmy Buffett blaring from the radio. It was just after 2 p.m. when they arrived and positioned themselves in a central location on the beach near a popular drinking establishment.

The restaurant provided ample opportunities for female interactions. "Bonus," Nick thought. He'd been dating at State, but with no one in particular. The only girl he was interested in was Piper, but she'd shown no interest in him. So why couldn't he stop thinking about her? Maybe he should try to put her out of his mind.

Tanner used to be on the hunt with Nick, but he'd recently reignited his high school relationship with Marlis, one of Piper's friends. Marlis was a sweet and petite Asian girl whom Tanner adored.

They plopped their chairs down and took their seats, popping their first beer as they enjoyed their little escape from reality.

"Check out the blonde in the hot pink bikini," Nick said.

"Yeah, she's gorgeous, like a Swedish supermodel."

As Nick watched the blonde walk by him and head into the water, he spotted something familiar. The cowboy hat. And under the cowboy hat was the skinny body of his friend Bob. Bob spotted him at about the same time and waved. Nick watched him as he walked over to his chair, which was in front of theirs around four hundred feet away. The chair was propped next to another chair, which was seating a male with olive-colored skin. The male stood up and turned towards Nick and Tanner.

"Hey, it's Gonzalez! Sweet." Nick was thrilled to see Juan Gonzalez, also known as "flypaper" for his effect on the ladies. Juan and Bob grabbed their chairs and each side of a large cooler and headed towards them.

"The day's just about to get ugly," he said to Tanner.

"Yup."

"Hey there. What's the good word? I've got a ton of beer in the cooler," Bob said as he walked up and set the cooler down. He'd already gotten too much sun as his chest, shoulders, and nose appeared to be fried. "Sun's hot today, but the beer's cold."

"Boiling hot," Tanner said. "We have beers in our cooler too."

Bob and Juan positioned their chairs next to the cooler and sat down.

"It's a good beach day," Nick said. "Plenty of lovely ladies on this beach."

"Cheers to that amigo. Check her out," Juan said as he pointed to the same blonde that Nick had been admiring. She was now coming out of the ocean.

A few minutes later the band started playing in the restaurant behind them. Sounds of steel drums and reggae singers dominated the air as Nick swigged down his beer and grabbed another one, along with a handful of pork rinds. While crunching on a pork rind, he surmised that the day was better than he'd expected. Relaxing. Glassy water. And not a cloud in the sky.

But it was hot. The sun was baking their bodies to a crisp, and encouraging them to keep hydrating. With beer. They'd already run out of water.

At some point, Juan struck up a conversation with the Swedish-looking blonde in the hot pink swimsuit. She was now sitting next to him on a towel in the sand. Her name was Emsley and she looked like she enjoyed Juan's company, staring at him intently from behind her gold-rimmed sunglasses. She was slowly sipping on the beer he'd given her as they chatted.

"I'm here with a few friends," Nick heard her say. "I'll get them." She got up and walked over to a small group of girls sitting on beach chairs about a football field away. They stood up and gathered their things and walked over to join them.

"These are my friends: Kelly, Jenna, and Kirsten."

"Welcome," Juan said with a slight Hispanic accent as the girls plopped their chairs onto the beach in front of them. He pointed to Nick and said, "That's Nick and he's Tanner. They play football at State University. And this is Bob."

"Hi all," Kelly said.

Juan flipped open the cooler and said, "Anyone want a beer?"

"Sure," Kirsten said as Juan distributed beers to each.

Once they were all established in their seats, Bob piped up with a story.

"You guys will remember this one," he said as he looked at Nick and Tanner. "We were drinking on my back porch when buckets of water started crashing down from the sky. So I said, 'Let's hit the bay on skis.' Cuz that's what you do in the rain at night when you've got a boat and live near the water. So we loaded up the boat with some beers and gear and hit the boat docks."

He looked at Nick. "Nick offered to be first. He got out there under the shining moon and ripped across the ocean, making waves and spraying mountains. Then came the lightning. That's when he really did his magic. Swear he walked on water as he dashed back and heaved himself into the boat. He wasn't afraid. No sir. He battled that lightning like that Norse god Zeus."

Tanner laughed and piped in, "Nice finish, but Zeus is a Greek god."

"Yeah, but does it really matter?" Bob replied.

"Good one Bob," Nick said, "Could've killed me. But good story."

The girls laughed. They were cute, but not as cute as Emsley. Nick watched Bob as he shifted his attention to the petite brunette in the yellow bikini named Jenna. She was the only one shorter than he was and she seemed interested in him too.

As he glanced over at the other two girls, Kirsten, the six-foot tall, full-figured girl with coffee-colored eyes and bushy brown eyebrows, caught his attention. Her long dark eyelashes contrasted her short, spiky bleached blonde hair. Not his type really, but maybe that didn't matter. He watched her guzzle down the last of her beer with a sense of ferociousness unfamiliar to most girls.

"Want a beer?" He said to her as he reached into his cooler.

"Sure," Kirsten said, so he handed it to her. Without missing a beat, she used her other hand to crush the first can and shove it into the sand by her side. Her hands were larger than most women's hands and could probably comfortably grip a football.

"What an animal," Nick thought. "I guess I'll play along, as long as she's playing on the other team."

Tanner made small talk with everyone. He didn't seem interested in pursuing the last girl available, probably staying faithful to his girlfriend. The last girl was called Kelly and she was Irish-looking with a weak chin, freckles and a pair of tortoise-shell sunglasses.

***

Two cases of beer later, the group made their way into the beachside restaurant where they ordered rum punches, which were served up in enormous fish-bowl types of glasses. Bob ordered floaters for everyone, which he generously dumped into each of their glasses. No complaints there.

The singers were rocking on the stage, so they all decided to dance to the reggae music with their punches in hand. The rum punches were good. A little too good.

Feeling buzzed and blurry, Nick soon realized that he needed to sit down so he walked over to the bar and grabbed an open seat. That's when he noticed that the sky was swirling, and that Tanner was seated two seats away at the bar, staring blankly out into the ocean. Juan was dancing with Emsley and looked like a salsa dancer with perfect gyrations to the music. And Bob was dancing with the petite brunette with the moves of a drunken cowboy. The tall animal with the bushy brows and the Irish-looking girl were now dancing with each other. Nick couldn't remember any of the girls' names aside from Emsley's. She was the hot one, but flypaper had dibs on her. He always had dibs.

Nick looked over at Tanner and mumbled something about being hammered, but found he couldn't string a full sentence together. His drink fell out of his hand in front of him and crashed and shattered on the floor.

"Let's get outa here," Nick slurred as he got out of his chair to pick up the pieces of glass. A server came over with a broom to help him. "You ready?" Nick asked Tanner.

"Yeah."

They signaled to Bob and Juan that they were leaving.

"Rookies," Bob called out shaking his head, "Hey, when's the party at the McMansion?"

"Soon," Nick mumbled.

They walked onto the beach and scooped up their belongings and headed over to the parking lot. After tossing their empty beer cans into a trash bin, they packed up their car and hopped in. Nick wasn't concerned about driving under the influence; he was too buzzed to think about that.

As he drove down the road along the beach listening to country music, his buzz became more intense; his head was spinning and he traveled in and out of coherence. It was 8 p.m. and the sun was setting, though Nick didn't realize it as he was still wearing his sunglasses. Toby Keith was blasting on the radio, and Tanner was passed out in the passenger seat. He didn't see the girl crossing the street, the eight year old trailing her parents to the beach. Swerving by, he barely missed her. Barely. Somehow they made it back to Orange Bay. Somehow. He dropped his friend off and drove to his house. After parking in the driveway, he made his way into the house, up the stairs, and into his bedroom where he passed out.
Chapter 11

The Lunch Date

Braedon decided that khaki pants, loafers, and a button-down shirt would be the perfect outfit for his lunch meeting with Catherine that Saturday after the fundraiser. He arrived early in his Camry and parked a block away, avoiding the services of the valet.

"Valets are too expensive," he said to himself.

After approaching the hostess, he requested a table for two near the window. She guided him to the perfect spot, which was the most romantic spot with a nice view of the bay. He positioned himself in a chair that faced the entrance, so that he could watch for Catherine. And he kept his eye on the door.

Fifteen minutes later at exactly noon, Catherine arrived at the door. As the hostess guided her to the table, Braedon studied her outfit and her fashion sense. She wore a pair of black high heels, a tight pair of black pants, a powder blue silk sweater, and a matching chiffon scarf. Impeccable. What a contrast to the frump at home.

Braedon stood up from his chair to greet her, flashing his pearly whites. "Right on time. Good to see you, Catherine."

"Good to see you too," she said as she sat down in the chair opposite him and folded the napkin in front of her on her lap.

"Well, shall we begin?" He asked as he pulled a package of photos from his brief case and started presenting them to her, one by one. "Select the ones you prefer and I'll be sure that those are the ones used to highlight the fundraiser. I believe I've captured photos of all of the well-known locals, including the two area mayors, the university president, and several CEOs."

Catherine flipped through the pictures and identified a few favorites. "Nice work, Braedon, I'm impressed. You have a good way of capturing the mood as everyone appears jovial and confident."

"Thank you!"

A female server arrived at the table and asked for her drink order. Braedon had already ordered himself an iced tea.

"I'll take an unsweetened ice tea."

"Okay, I'll be back with your drinks and can take your order then, if you're ready."

"Thank you," she said without looking up from the pictures. The server headed into the kitchen.

Braedon admired her appearance. She epitomized wealth, success, confidence and beauty. He wanted her. And that. Badly. In every way. He pictured himself with her in bed and drew a deep breath. _She power_.

***

When she was finished selecting the photos she felt best presented the governor's campaign, Braedon separated them and tucked them back into his briefcase. Just in time for the meals.

"Two mahi mahi salads with the dressing on the side," the server said as she placed their plates in front of them.

"Thank you," Catherine said.

"Yes, thanks, Wendy," Braedon added, reading her name from her name tag.

"Delicious mahi mahi," he commented in between bites. "What do you think?"

"Yes, very good."

"Thinking of dessert?"

"No, I don't do dessert," she said, "save for a red wine sometimes after dinner."

Braedon laughed, "Either do I. And red wine is my dessert too. That must be what's kept you in such fantastic shape."

"Thank you for the compliment. Yes, I definitely watch my diet. Staying in shape isn't as easy as it once was. I'm also an avid runner. I run at least three miles a day each morning before going to work, around 5 a.m."

"That's great. I run sometimes too, but I mainly work out in the gym."

"I can see that," she said, "you look good. Very chiseled."

"So where are you from, Catherine? Were you born in Florida?"

"No, Chicago. How about you?"

"Right here in Orange Bay. I left to go to college in Richmond, but then I returned. I love Orange Bay. It's hard to leave."

"It is beautiful here. Richmond's nice too. Do you have any family here?"

"Yes. How about you?"

"No. Everyone is up North. Nick and I will probably get up there this Christmas. It's been too hectic at work lately to plan a family trip."

"Yeah, I imagine in your position that you cherish your free time."

"Yes, I do. I cherish my time with my son. There's just never enough of it. But he has a life too. He's at the beach today with his friends."

Braedon continued the small talk, sharing a few details of his past, but of course omitting references to his wife and kids and Mom. The Camry would be the only link he shared with her to his other life, if they took things further. He'd cleaned it out and washed it, eliminating the fruit loops and crushed crackers in the back seat. The Camry was old and needed a new paint job, but at least it was paid in full. A newer car wasn't affordable.

She shared details of her background, which were mainly focused on her work experiences, and her work ethic. It was clear that she had a low tolerance for laziness and excuses. And people who made poor choices.

"Lazy people ruin a society," he said, trying to impress her with his similar beliefs. He wanted to be sure to point out any similarities between her life and his.

She'd indicated that there was a husband, but she'd lost him eleven years before and didn't care much about him. Loves and adores the son. The son. The very protective son. He'd need buy-in from the son. It was easy to relate to a person who didn't love her spouse but loved her child, but Catherine wouldn't be privy to that similarity.

"It's time to take a chance," he thought. Rejection wasn't something he'd experienced with women before, so he figured his odds were good.

"Catherine, would you be interested in having dinner with me tonight? There's a new Italian restaurant in the art district that I'd love to take you to for a nice meal and a bit of red wine." He looked closely into her eyes and smiled, "I don't get out much. It's been a while since I lost my wife to cancer."

"I'd love to have dinner with you."

"Excellent. I'll pick you up at 7."
Chapter 12

Bless the Lord O My Soul

When Nick awoke on Sunday morning, he couldn't recall how he'd gotten home. He looked in the garage, but his car wasn't there, so he popped the garage door open to check the driveway. "There it is," he said, feeling a sense of relief. "Man, I'm lucky to be alive." His Mustang was half parked on the lawn and half parked in the driveway, offering him a glimpse of his condition the night before. A few feet away from it sat an old faded Toyota Camry.

"Must be the maid's car."

He went back upstairs and showered, humming Carrie Underwood's "Jesus Take the Wheel." After finishing and toweling off, he put on a pair of khaki pants and sat down on a chair in his room to reflect on the day before.

"Where'd I go wrong?" He said aloud, "Next time, I'll bring fewer beers and tons of water. And sodas. We needed sodas yesterday. And sandwiches. Did I even eat last night? That would've helped for sure. What a loser." He was mad at himself for letting the liquor get control of him.

He recalled a little girl crossing the street in front of his car with others. Could have hit her. Could have killed her. But instead he skidded by her.

"Thank God."

Pulling himself up, he made his way to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. The mirror was fogged up, so he wiped it with his hands in a circular motion. His reflection showed his bloodshot eyes and razor stubble.

Grabbing his razor, he attempted to shave, but his hands were shaking and his eyes felt fuzzy and unable to focus. And they itched. But he couldn't give up. Half-way done. "Keep going. Concentrate."

"Okay, good," he said. Shaving took longer than usual with three unexpected nicks, but his face was now free of stubble.

"Eye drops, where are the eye drops?" He moved bottles around in his medicine cabinet, shoving them back and forth.

"Perfect," he said as he pulled out a bottle and squirted a few drops into his eyes. "Now I just need something for the pounding." He grabbed an aspirin bottle from the cabinet and popped the cap open, somehow losing control of it. The bottle was now on the floor and aspirin tablets were scattered all around it.

"Oh, come on!" He knelt down and picked up the aspirin tablets and placed them on the countertop, catching a whiff of his breath. "Ugh." He got up while gulping two aspirin without water and reached for his toothbrush.

"Hopefully they won't smell the alcohol," he mumbled as he brushed his teeth for the second time and swished some mouthwash. The alcohol was still in his system.

***

A short while later, he walked into the church and sat himself in a seat in the back, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Still smelled.

The service opened to much singing, loud singing. The choir belted out the songs and the audience sang along. People were clapping and swaying to the music. They seemed happy, truly happy. Nick felt happy too; something about the songs made him smile. They were uplifting and in praise of God. Two of the songs were from Matt Redman, "10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord)," and Chris Tomlin, "How Great is Our God."

When the songs ended, the pastor stepped onto the stage. He quoted Psalm 103 (ESV) as he announced, "Bless the Lord O my soul and all that is within me, Bless His holy name!" He shared a story.

_"_ _There's a story in the Bible about a rich man and a beggar named Lazarus in Luke 16:19-31, which I'd like to share with you in today's context. Living in Florida, I'm sure you've had the opportunity to witness the lifestyles of both the rich and the poor. Well imagine this. Imagine that you grew up in a modest home across the street from a family with two sons in a middle-class neighborhood. Things were tight, but their parents worked hard to make ends meet. Both sons went off to college and became successful."_

_"_ _Twenty years after they'd graduated, they were both living in lavish multi-million dollar homes. Their parents were still living in the same house, which was falling apart, yet the sons paid no attention to that, or any of their parents' needs. Both sons were too busy attending to their own needs. And they needed the services of a lawn man, a pool company, and a maid."_

_"_ _Five more years went by and the first son's lawn man's wife was diagnosed with cancer. The cancer bills started piling up and they were forced to move out of their small home and into an apartment, which they rented. His wife died. He was devastated and struggled to come to grips with his wife's passing."_

_"_ _His work suffered and he lost several major lawn accounts. He could no longer pay his bills and had little food. Soon his landlord kicked him out."_

_"_ _Feeling he had no other choice, he went to the son he'd worked for in the lavish home and knocked on the door. Wanted to know if he could borrow some money. The son told him he needed to work harder and to take care of himself. 'God helps those who help themselves,' he said, smugly. Plus, he'd noticed too many weeds on the side of his house."_

_"_ _Soon both the son and the lawn man died. The son found himself in hell perched over a raging fire, while the lawn man was carried to Abraham by angels. The son saw the lawn man standing next to Abraham and asked him to send him some water, because hell was blazing hot. Abraham reminded him of all of the good things he'd had in life and of all of the bad things the lawn man had had. Now the son was in agony, while the lawn man was in Heaven and a great chasm was between the two that couldn't be crossed."_

_"_ _The son begged for pity, asking that the lawn man be sent to warn his brother. Abraham declined, telling him if he didn't listen to Moses and the prophets while on earth, he wouldn't believe in someone being raised from the dead."_

Nick thought of his mom and her position in her company over thousands of workers and cringed.

"Wonder if anyone ever asked her for a loan. Wonder if she helped the entry level minimum-wage workers who were likely struggling to make ends meet."

He recalled the homeless man from the restaurant, whom she'd shunned. Who else? She needed to be warned, but would she listen?
Chapter 13

Visions of the Hatteras Dancing in His Head

When Braedon awoke on Sunday morning, he found himself lying next to Catherine and wrapped in silk sheets. As he scanned her bedroom, which was expansive and tastefully decorated in creamy sand and ocean hues, he noticed a large picture window opened to a panoramic view of the bay, which was breathtaking and peaceful.

"This is living," he thought as he gazed out the window and watched the bay. A sailboat moved along the water and he imagined himself at its helm with Catherine by his side. And his two kids in the back. He'd somehow integrate them into the picture. Just needed a good story. Stories were his life, so surely he'd come up with something reasonable.

"I could get used to this," he said to himself in his dreamy state, "Not a care in the world."

Then his thoughts were shaken with a nasty memory of his frumpy wife sweeping around the house. "Poverty sucks. Focus on the boats, Braedon. The boats and the water. This is where you need to be." He tried to expunge his wife from his thoughts, but couldn't.

He recalled the excuse he'd used before heading out for his date with Catherine the night before. "Don't wait up. It'll be an all-nighter. Sunday morning press release. I'll catch you guys after church." She always believed him and never even checked his stories. "Gullible," he thought.

The clock in the room read 11:15 a.m.

"Can't believe we slept this long. I thought CEOs were early birds." He thought. "Then again, we probably didn't get to sleep until around 4." 11:16 a.m. "I need to get going. In a nice way. Don't want to blow it here."

He put his arms around Catherine and spooned himself against her body. She moved her body in acceptance but didn't say a word. It had been a long time since he held a woman closely and had physical relations. He hadn't slept with his wife since well before the twins were born.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning to you, too."

"Last night was incredible Catherine. I haven't had such a good time in so many years. Dinner, dancing, and wine with the most beautiful woman in the world was no less than amazing. I felt so alive. Everything was just so perfect. Especially the end. Making love to the most incredible woman in the world was a gift from God. You are so passionate and loving and smart. I think I've met my soul mate."

"I enjoyed the night too, Braedon. Thank you. I haven't had such a good time in a long time either. You're a great dance partner."

From the corner of his eye, Braedon noticed the dog sitting in a chair across the room. It appeared to be a small schnauzer and it was glaring at him, growling. Immediately he decided that he didn't like the dog.

"Chipper, stop!" Catherine called out. The dog barked and hopped off the chair and leapt onto the bed where it pounced on top of him as it scampered over to its owner.

"Chipper, down!" The dog jumped off the bed. And then jumped back on.

"Note to self," Braedon thought, "after the wedding, the dog goes." He went to pet the dog, but it growled and jumped back off the bed.

"Unfortunately, I have work to do today, Braedon, or the day would be ours. Perhaps we can get together again soon?"

"I'd love to, Catherine. My schedule is more open than yours, so just let me know when you're available and I'll be there. I can't imagine myself any place else." He got up out of bed and got dressed and kissed her goodbye.

"Braedon," she said with a warm smile, "I look forward to seeing you again soon."

"Likewise, beautiful lady."

Braedon caught a glimpse of the bay again as he left the room and immersed himself once again in his fantasy role captaining a boat. That's when he spotted the 60-foot Hatteras docked at the mansion's boat docks to the far right of the window. "I could get used to this," he said to himself as he left the room and exited the house.

Within a few minutes he was at the helm of his old Toyota Camry, cruising down Bayfront Drive, with visions of the Hatteras dancing in his head.
Chapter 14

Boating on the Bay

Nick arrived home from church in the early afternoon and changed into a casual pair of swim trunks, a tank top, and flip flops. Since he was still fighting a nagging headache and a queasy stomach from the day at the beach the day before with Tanner, he thought he'd attempt to sweat out the alcohol by roasting on a chaise lounge by his pool.

"Mom, you home?"

"Yeah, I'm in my office. I'm finishing up a report for the board, due tomorrow morning. 8 a.m. meeting. What are you up to?"

"Just got back from church. Thought I'd sit by the pool for a little while and veg."

"I should be done in a couple of hours. Do you want to test drive the boat?"

"Love to. Sounds good," Nick said hoping seasickness wouldn't get the best of him, given his raging hangover. He certainly wouldn't be telling his mom about the day before at the beach. She'd be furious if she found out he drove drunk. Things just got out of hand. Stupid moves.

With a towel in hand and an icy soda, he headed to the shady side of the patio and plopped down on a cushioned chaise lounge. He wadded up his towel and stuffed it under his head as he flattened the chaise into a horizontal position. The summer heat and humidity soon overtook him and he fell asleep.

***

Around 3 p.m., his mom woke him. "Nick, you ready for the boat ride?"

"Yeah, sure Mom," he said as he glanced over at the pool clock. "Wow, can't believe I slept for so long. This chaise is comfortable."

"I can't believe you slept for so long either. You must be worn out. I've packed a few drinks and a couple of sandwiches for the boat ride and its gas tank is full."

"Great," Nick said as he sat up on the chaise, kicking in the remnants of his headache and its dull, throbbing pain. He pulled himself up and grabbed his sunglasses and towel and followed his mom to the dock. Was there anything else he'd need to bring?

"Mom, do you have the motion sickness medicine?"

"Yup."

"Okay, can I get a couple of those pills?"

His mom handed him the pills after he climbed onto the boat and he popped them into his mouth, washing them down with a bottle of water from the cooler. There was nothing worse than being seasick on a boat, especially with a hangover.

She'd purchased the yacht with her signing bonus a few months back but it hadn't been delivered until the day before. It was stunning, spacious, and powerful.

After they unleashed it from the ropes on the dock, she took the captain's chair and revved up the engine as Nick sat by her side in the passenger seat. They backed out and pulled out into the bay.

"Nothing like a cruising on a Hatteras yacht," she said, "especially one fresh from the manufacturer with a multi-million dollar price tag. Watch the reactions of the people we pass."

Nick saw a boat in the distance and his mom accelerated towards it. The boat was small, perhaps around twenty feet. Its three male passengers turned to the Hatteras and waved. Nick waved back and smiled. "I see what you mean Mom. Boat envy. You get a superiority complex in this thing."

"Well, hopefully not a complex."

Nick knew how to run a boat too; they'd owned a couple of smaller boats in the past and he used to take them out on the water with his friends. The Hatteras was much larger, though, but the principles were the same. "Can I take a shot at the wheel?" He asked.

"Sure," she said and they swapped seats.

Captaining the Hatteras was an exhilarating and masculine experience. He could feel his hair blowing in the wind and the sun at his back as they cruised south alongside rows of mansions to the tune of the yacht's soft purring motor.

"We'll have to think of a name," she said.

"How about Liquid Assets?"

"No, sounds like something an accountant would name a boat."

"How about Rum Runner?" Nick asked.

"Sounds like something a drunk would name a boat. Or the mafia during the Prohibition. How about Lady Luck?"

"Now you're sounding like something you're not - either a gambler or Frank Sinatra," Nick said. "Bob's boat's called the DILLIGAF. How about that?"

"No thanks. I know what that stands for. Good joke Nick," his mom said as Nick laughed at his own humor.

Then she added, "I'll have to think more. Maybe we'll get some ideas while cruising."

"Wait, Mom, how about the 'Protestant Work Ethic'?"

"Hmmm. I like it. Maybe that's what we'll name it. I was afraid you were moving away from believing in the Protestant Work Ethic, you know, with your religious leanings."

"No, of course not. You can believe in religion and Jesus _and_ the Protestant Work Ethic. They're not mutually exclusive. There are at least seven statements in the Book of Proverbs that endorse a strong work ethic and frown on laziness."

"Well that's encouraging," she said.

Soon they were cruising along the public portion of the beach in front of hundreds of beachgoers and a handful of restaurants and condominiums. The ride was exhilarating and Nick's hangover started to subside.

"This boat really handles well, Mom."

"Well, it's really a yacht and its width is what makes its ride so smooth."

They rode down to Anna Maria Island and enjoyed its clear blue waters. Nick could see schools of colorful fish swimming by, along with a few jellyfish and dolphins.

"You see the dolphins jumping. Look over there," he shouted to his mom.

"Yeah, nice. Dolphins and popcorn clouds. Paradise."

At that point, Nick's mind was focusing on the ocean, the boat, the fish, and the beach. Few of his thoughts were devoted to anything else, including anything he'd learned in the church that morning. The hangover was finally gone.

"Mom, thanks for all you do for me."

"Thanks Nick. I'm sure you'll own your own Hatteras one day. You have success in your genes."

Off in the distance, Nick could see another Hatteras. He was traveling faster and was soon able to make out its name: "I'll take a Scotch."

"Nick, that's the governor's yacht!"

They approached a bit closer and were now riding about four yacht lengths behind. Nick fixed his eyes on the governor, who was at the wheel wearing a fishing shirt and a baseball cap. His outfit only partially obscured his carrot-colored hair and Scottish complexion.

Facing forward as he ran his yacht, Nick confirmed his identity when he turned towards the woman to his left. The woman was wearing a red bikini, which contrasted her milky white skin as stripes contrast one another on a candy cane. Or perhaps a Coca Cola bottle, as her hourglass figure more resembled the curves on a Coca Cola bottle. She was neither too heavy nor too thin, but womanly, yet with a protruding belly. Possibly pregnant.

"Definitely not the governor's wife," Nick said.

The governor put his arm around the woman, gripping her at the top of her shoulder and drawing attention to her dark, bouncing ponytail. They stood closely for a short time before she moved away and walked towards the back of the boat, kneeling down to get something on the floor.

"Definitely pregnant," Nick said.

"Uh huh," his mom responded.

As if she could hear them, she looked up at Nick and his mom and smiled with a wave. Big smile.

Nick waved back. "Pretty lady," he thought to himself.

"Nick, slow down. I don't want _him_ to see us. He must have gotten his mistress pregnant. Again."

Nick slowed their yacht down and moved away from the "I'll take a Scotch."

"Mom, you knew he had a mistress? Who is she? Why would you support him in a fundraiser?" Nick stared at the woman who was slowly fading off into the distance.

"I support his causes, not his personal life and I have no problem separating the two. I don't know who she is. No one does. This is all hush hush."

"Mom, if he can't keep his own house in order, how can he be expected to keep the state in order?"

"Nick, almost all of the politicians out there have a certain sort of moral flexibility when it comes to their personal affairs. I'm sure his opponent suffers from the same vices."

"That's sad, Mom."

"It is. But that's the world we live in."
Chapter 15

Sunday Afternoon at the Ramsey's

When Braedon arrived home after his date with Catherine on Sunday morning, he found his house empty. Tricia had told him that she'd be taking the girls to the church, so he figured they'd be back soon, probably in the early part of the afternoon.

After slipping on some comfortable clothing and a pair of flip flops, he made his way to the family room, plopping on top of his favorite reclining chair. Nothing like relaxing in solitude.

He turned on the television and flipped the channels until he landed on a show about the _uber_ wealthy. That got his attention. Yachts. Mansions. Cars. A man with an upper class English accent moderated the show, which was designed to spur envy and desire from the masses and portray the wealthy as people who were living the ultimate dream. Braedon dozed off into his own very similar dreams.

A few minutes later, the garage door opened and he woke up to the sounds of the chirpy little voices of his girls.

"Daddy!" Kaylee called out as she ran into the house in her red and white strawberry sundress.

"Kaylee! How was Sunday school? I missed you."

"I missed you too Daddy. Miss Jackie taught us a lot today about Jesus. He died for us on a cross."

"Yes he did."

"Daddy!" Haley called out as she entered the house from the garage in a sundress that matched her sister's.

"Haley!" How was your day at Sunday school?

"Good Daddy. Why don't you go to church? Don't you want to learn about Jesus?"

"Yes, but I already know everything there is to know about Jesus."

"You know everything Daddy. What's for lunch? I'm hungry."

Braedon looked out into the garage through the door, which had been left open by Haley. He didn't see his wife. "Where's Mommy?"

"She's on the phone in her car."

"Oh. Well, I guess I can make lunch. What do you want? Peanut, butter, and jelly sandwiches?"

"Yes," both said in unison.

After pulling himself up from his comfy chair, he walked into the kitchen, where he grabbed the ingredients and plates to make the girls lunch. He cut up a couple of apples, poured milk, and placed their lunches on the kitchen table before he sat down alongside of them.

A few minutes later, Tricia walked into the kitchen.

"How was church?"

"Good. I just found out they need help this afternoon sorting the filled shoebox donations for the kids in Guatemala. I'm going to head over there in an hour, after I change into something more casual. You'll be home to watch the girls, right?"

"Yeah, I'll watch them. Gladly. When will you be back? What do you want to do for dinner?"

"I should be home around seven. There's some leftover pizza and lasagna in the fridge. Are you okay with fending for ourselves tonight?"

"Sure, no problem. That's a good way to save money."

Without further comment, she left the room and headed towards their bedroom. Braedon noticed that she looked better than usual in her black pants and purple knit top. They fit her well, though they didn't hide the weight she needed to lose. You could still see her bulging pregnant-looking stomach and tell that her legs were chunky.

"Church. She lives at that church," he thought, feeling a spurt of resentment.

His little strawberry delights were by his side eating their sandwiches. "Girls, what do you want to do today? Want to go to the park?"

"Yeah!"

***

Braedon stood behind Haley and Kaylee on the swings and pushed them. Their strawberry blonde hair blew in the wind as they giggled in delight. They were beauties and he was lucky to have them in his life.

Catherine would be a nice addition to his life too. He pictured himself in the Hatteras with her at his side and the girls just behind him as he steered the boat along the bay. The girls would love the Hatteras.

"Do you like boats?"

"Yeah, I love boats," Kaylee answered.

"Me too. Are we going to go boating?"

"Hopefully sometime soon. Hopefully."

Braedon thought of his wife. She needed to be out of the picture. How could he make that happen? He'd already told Catherine and her son that his wife had died of cancer, but she was very much alive. Would killing her be the solution? Or could he simply make her disappear?

It wasn't like he had a squeaky clean police record, but his felony was for something much different than murder. He'd dealt marijuana in college, just to pay his bills since his parents couldn't help him out. At first, he sold small bags of marijuana to friends only, but he soon progressed into much larger quantities, which he sold to friends, and friends of friends. Soon he found himself rubbing elbows with major drug dealers and that's when the cops stepped in and snagged him.

"People are much more lenient about marijuana today," he thought.

He'd never told Tricia about the marijuana problems he'd had; she probably wouldn't have married him. She was squeaky clean.

Maybe he could convince Tricia to go away on her own. Divorce him. Move on.

But he wanted full custody of the girls with her child support, of course. Then again, if he set up camp with Catherine, child support from Tricia wouldn't be necessary. Still wanted full custody. Tricia wouldn't give that to him without a battle.

How could he let Catherine know he had kids? He never told Catherine he _didn't_ have kids. He just said his wife had died of cancer. How could he explain that she didn't actually die and was still very much living? Should he say that he had two previous wives: one alive and a second who'd died of cancer?

"Complicated. I'll need to work on a story," he thought.

He sent Catherine a text message, "I can't stop thinking about you. I want you. When can I see you again?"

No reply. Maybe she didn't hear the chirp on her phone. Maybe her phone was in another room. His mind turned to his daughters as he pushed them on the swings.

"Higher Daddy, push higher!"

"Okay, hold on," he said to Haley as he pulled her swing back and launched it high into the air.

"Me too. Push me high," Kaylee shouted.

"Okay, here goes."

As he pulled Kaylee back on her swing, his phone chirped. After he released her, he pulled it from his pocket and read Catherine's message. "I'd like to see you soon too, but I'm just too busy this week with work."

"Hold on girls," he said as he backed up from the swing set to text Catherine back. "Soon works for me, but now would be better."

Hopefully he didn't come across as desperate. Maybe he should have waited a few minutes before sending the message. No chirps. No reply yet.

His thoughts returned to his wife, the baggage. How could he get rid of the excess baggage?

A minute later his phone chirped. "I'll try. Have to travel on Thursday. Will try to see you after I return."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for your call."
Chapter 16

Adding a Dose of Wind to a Whirlwind

It had been a week and a half since he'd seen Catherine and the delay was making him cranky. Braedon was used to quick-paced, whirlwind sorts of romances and his romance with Catherine was off to a snail of a start. He'd sent her quite a few text messages since he'd last seen her, but her response hadn't changed. Always too busy. Annoying.

He looked at the clock in his car and noted the time: 4:30 a.m. Time for a run in Catherine's neighborhood. He climbed out of his car, which was parked in the parking lot of a gas station down the road from Catherine's house, and stretched. His body felt achy, which was nothing new. The body of a man in his forties was much different than the body he'd relished in his youth. Yet he still looked good. Really good. He flexed his arm muscles and enjoyed the view. Eye candy.

Walking towards the sidewalk, he reflected on the last time he'd seen her. They'd spent their first night together and it was magical. She was beautiful, rich, and thin, which was everything he'd ever wanted. But she was also playing hard to get, which was more annoying to him than anything else. He wasn't used to a challenge and didn't feel he had the time to deal with one now. Women had always fawned over him, while Catherine was too busy for him.

Jogging down the road, he soon entered her neighborhood. He positioned himself by a tree just down the road from her driveway and waited. And watched. He stared at her front door and itched to see it open. Hopefully she was back from her business trip. He didn't know for sure. Her text messages offered few clues.

About fifteen minutes later, the door opened. Catherine stepped out in what appeared to be a bright neon green jump suit. She ran down the driveway and turned down the walkway heading away from him.

"Perfect," Braedon thought. "I can follow her from behind." He jogged slowly behind her and searched for an opportunity in which he could bump into her in the least of obvious ways. Of course he didn't want her to think he was stalking her. Far from it. He was merely injecting a bit of wind into what was supposed to be a whirlwind of a relationship.

She turned down a road and headed south and he followed her, maintaining a distance just far enough to be sure that she couldn't hear his footsteps. He couldn't hear hers. She moved ahead of him and passed by a couple of side roads before turning down the third. He turned down the first side road and sprinted to the next cross road. Then he turned right in an effort to catch up to her.

Success.

"Catherine, Wow. Fancy seeing you here," he said with a puff of breath as he stopped in the walkway in front of her.

"Well, hello Braedon. Nice to see you. What brings you out here in this early morning hour?" She started jogging in place.

"Just thought I'd catch a jog. I don't live far from here you know. I'm just east of Bay-to-Bay.

"Oh. That's convenient."

"Would you be comfortable with the idea of jogging together?" He asked.

"Sure, why not? So, how have you been?" She said as started jogging again. "C'mon, I gotta keep moving." He jogged quickly to catch up to her and stay by her side.

"Good. Things have been slow at work so I've been able to catch up on some old business and finish a few projects around the house this past week. How about you?"

"Busier than ever. I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Maybe we can see each other again for dinner soon."

"I'd like that. How about Friday?"

"No, I can't do Friday. Corporate dinner."

"Saturday," Braedon asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Boy, I wish. Saturday is booked too. Maybe the following weekend."

"How about a night during the week?"

"I can't promise that. Things have been too busy at the office to plan a dinner."

"Lunch?"

"Sure, maybe lunch."

"When?"

"Braedon, I'm sorry. I don't have my calendar on me and will need to check it. I'll let you know. I'll text you."

"Okay, Catherine. I understand. I'd just like to move this relationship along. Seems like we're lagging and that's not my style."

"Your style?"

"Well, you know."

"Sure," Catherine responded. "Well, I better head back home. Nice to see you again." She turned around and headed back towards her house.

"Hmm. I hope I didn't seem desperate," he thought as he started feeling a bit regretful for going jogging at all.
Chapter 17

Squeezing a Camel through a Needle

A few weeks later on Friday evening, Nick was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a hot dog and a bag of potato chips when his mom arrived home. It had been another great day at the summer camp and he wanted to tell his mom all about it. Plus he was looking forward to a fun night. Bob and Tanner were going to join him for a night out on the town.

His mom told him that morning that she'd be going to the doctor's in the afternoon to get the results of a second test following a routine colonoscopy. When she walked into the kitchen, he noticed that nothing seemed routine about her appearance. Instead, she exuded despondence and humility.

"Nick," she uttered as she walked to the table and sat down in the chair next to him, "I have cancer...and a morbid prognosis."

The words shook Nick's world. Time stopped. He zoned off as he recollected the joy he'd found with his mom as a small child. She'd always protected him from his dad's harsh words and was his hero in life. Cancer. Morbid prognosis. Cancer. The words replayed over and over in his mind as he struggled to grasp their meaning and impact on his life.

Things felt surreal. The kitchen seemed to be swirling and twirling and he felt sick to his stomach. Soon tears splashed out of Nick's eyes as he looked into his mom's red eyes. He drew a deep breath and stood up to hug her. She met his hug and they stood wrapped in one another's arms for a long while.

Taking another deep breath, he said, "How bad is it Mom? Do you have to go through chemo?

"It's not good Nick. Not good at all. Stage four. It's aggressive and it's in several of my organs, including my liver. He said that I need to get my affairs in order and that I only have a few months left. I'm hoping that the cancer center in Pinellas has a breakthrough treatment. Otherwise it's chemo." She trailed off and whimpered as she went to the kitchen counter and grabbed a tissue.

"Mom, I don't want to lose you. I need you. We need each other."

His words made her cry harder, which crushed him.

They soon moved into the family room where they sat down on a couch. Nick reached out and held her hand and they sat in silence. Second passed. Then minutes. At least fifteen minutes passed before she stood up.

Choking back her tears, she said, "I need to make a few calls. I'm not going to report to work tomorrow. I'll be taking a leave of absence. I don't know if I'll be going back any time soon, or at all. They'll need to find a temporary replacement. Or a permanent one." She walked into her home office with her shoulders slumped. Nick had never seen her in such a state.

He fell to the floor and prayed as thoughts of his mom's cancer diagnosis flooded his mind.

"Jesus, please don't take my mom. Please. I love her. Please don't take her away. She's not ready," he said as tears poured out of his eyes.

He got back onto the couch and took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he prayed again.

A few minutes later, his mom walked out of her office and sat down beside him. His thoughts turned to her salvation.

"Mom, this may sound like a funny question. But what's in your will? Is anything going to charity?"

"Everything goes to you Nick: the house, the car, the yacht, the savings. It's all yours."

"Mom," Nick said, "I don't want everything. I'll need money to finish college, but I don't want anything beyond that. I want you to give the rest to the church."

"What?" She scoffed, "why would I do that? I don't go to church. I want you to use the money, and to share it with your family one day. I want you to live the life I've worked so hard for you to live."

"I don't want that life. If you give me the money, I'll donate what I don't need for college to help others. I'll donate to the church. But I'd rather it come from you. I want Jesus to know that you helped the church. Mom, I want you to end up in Heaven," Nick said.

"Nick, I'll end up in Heaven. I've been a good person," she said.

Nick thought about Jesus' words, which indicated that it would be easier to squeeze a camel through a needle than to get a rich man into Heaven. His eyes welled up in tears again. Over the next hour, neither said much, as he reflected on the situation and their lives and fates in silence.

An hour later, he thought to text his friends, telling them that he wouldn't be able to make it out that night. "Got some very bad news today," he wrote, "Maybe another time."

"I've gotta pray alone," he thought. "She might freak out if she knows what I'm saying."

His mom was still sitting in silence on the couch when he announced, "Mom, I'm going to take a shower." He got up from the couch and left the family room and headed up to his room. But he couldn't take a shower since that required some energy and he was drained. Plunking down on his bed, he prayed once again.

***

Later that night, Nick found himself deep in prayer. He was lying on his bed, under his covers with his eyes closed as he concentrated on what he'd determined would be his most important prayer to the Lord.

"Jesus, thank you for the many blessings you've given me. Most especially, thank you for giving me the mother you chose for me. She's always helped me and encouraged me and directed me along almost all of the right paths. She's instilled a strong work ethic and good moral principles. I know she doesn't believe in you right now, but if you give her a little more time, I'll convince her. Just give me the right words to say." Nick took a deep breath and tried to empty his mind of any random thoughts.

A picture of Jesus came to mind. It was a picture that had been painted by an artistic child prodigy named Akiane at the age of eight based on a vision she'd had in which she was with Jesus in Heaven. The picture became a sensation when the little boy who inspired the book "Heaven Is For Real" endorsed it based on his own supernatural experience in Heaven with Jesus. Nick found the picture on the internet and it was now etched in his mind. Jesus' thick mane of brown, wavy hair and emerald eyes were vivid and central to the picture, which if brought to life would light up the world.

Nick prayed and felt his body become lighter as it freed itself of his fear and pain. A peaceful feeling overcame him and he realized that he was in a state that he knew he'd been pursuing all of his life. He'd struggled to capture the same feeling while drinking beers, but that buzz was dwarfed by the inner sense of peace he was experiencing in the present moment. Airy and free, he felt relaxed and still as he relished his new meditational state, which soon put him to sleep.
Chapter 18

Imagine Yourself as a House

Rejection. It was something Braedon had never experienced in his love life, yet Catherine had succeeded in blowing him off. The church. Also something he hadn't experienced. He hadn't been to church in years, but something made him want to go to church that Sunday morning. Was it the rejection or maybe just guilt? Or could it have been a response to his daughter's question to him about going to church? He didn't know. His mind was too clouded to figure out the answers to those questions and his body felt like a hollow shell, devoid of any meaningful purpose.

He'd always lusted for power and money and control over his life and had spent the past few decades focusing on his body, building and shaping it into his castle, so impressive and beautiful that any woman he'd ever wanted practically fell at his feet. They fought over him when he was young. Fought. Tricia, who was extremely beautiful when younger, won that battle and he stayed faithful to her for many years, until he met Catherine. Catherine was a widow in her forties and should have been an easy target, but she rejected him and shattered the castle and broke him. Why? What did he do wrong?

He sat himself in a seat in front of the choir and quietly waited for the service to begin. Braedon Ramsey didn't know what to expect, barely recalling the last time he'd stepped into a church. Probably someone's wedding.

But something inside of him nagged at him. He felt the need to do something different in his life and his wife's influence led him to the church. Being in the church that morning just seemed right. He'd started to have second thoughts about the way he'd been treating their marriage and felt guilty and mean for devising evil ways to make her disappear in his mind.

He couldn't hurt her; she was the mother to his children and she was kind and sweet. And he'd been unkind to her and abusive, but that was all about to end. Things were going to change for the better. He pictured her on their wedding day with her big warm smile.

"You know. She really doesn't even need make-up; her complexion is perfect. And she isn't really fat. Just a little heavier than I'd like."

The choir and the singers filed in and positioned themselves in the choir stands. No sign of Tricia. Yet.

She'd taken the kids to an earlier service and he expected to see her in the choir of the current service, but he didn't. Maybe she was teaching one of the Sunday school classes. He didn't know. His kids often went to back-to-back Sunday school classes to accommodate both her teaching and choir duties in the church, which extended over two services at 9 and 11 a.m.

He hadn't spoken to Catherine since that early morning jog, save for a few text messages the following week. She had mentioned work, but little else. He realized that she was blowing him off when she stopped returning his text messages at the end of the week. It was shocking, but maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe he needed to focus on his own family.

He turned his attention to the choir, sans Tricia. "Maybe she's teaching the Sunday school class now. That must be it. I must have mixed up her schedule."

The singers stood up and began singing songs of joy and praise, uplifting the congregation surrounding him. Braedon was impressed. He didn't expect to see people excited in the church. This church was different from the somber one he recalled from his childhood and he liked this church much better. It made him feel good. The words of the song, "How Great is Our God," from Chris Tomlin streamed across a flat screen television.

After the songs ended, the pastor stepped up to the stage in a crisply ironed greyish button-down shirt and a darker pair of dress pants. He welcomed newcomers and thanked the church members. Then he started his sermon, which was about gaining God's favor.

"God favors those who are humble, broken, and contrite in spirit and he even says that brokenness should be a regular condition. This concept is explained well by C.S. Lewis in his book _Mere Christianity_ , which I'll paraphrase for you from my memory."

He paused and looked over the congregation, catching Braedon's eyes. "Imagine yourself as a house. God helps you to fix its drains, repair its cracks, and refurbish its appliances. You needed this help, so you're not surprised. But imagine your surprise when God starts knocking down walls, putting in new kitchens and baths, and adding bedrooms and room additions. It hurts abominably and you wonder what on earth he's up to. You thought you were going to be a decent little cottage. But he had plans for a palace, one in which He plans to live himself. You see, he wants you to be perfect, just as he is perfect, and humble and kind, just as he is humble and kind."

"Jesus wanted his early disciples to be perfect too, and they encountered numerous challenges along their pathway to God. Early Christian teachings were considered blasphemous to Jews, Romans, Greeks, and others practicing other religions, so many early Christians were stoned and martyred in brutal ways. Saul's story from the Book of Acts provides one example. Saul started off as a Christian persecutor and the Bible tells us that he witnessed the stoning of the first Christian martyr, Stephen, who was a man full of God's grace and power. While Stephen was being stoned by his persecutors, he looked up to Heaven and 'saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God' (Acts 6:8; Acts 7:56)."

"Next, the Bible tells us that Saul was travelling down a road to Damascus with plans to identify and murder Christians who were following _the Way_. He was struck down by a light from Heaven as he heard a voice say, 'Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?' He asked, 'Who are you, Lord?' The voice said, 'I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting' (Acts 9: 4-6). Saul was blinded for three days at which time he fasted. When his sight was restored by God, he became one of the Lord's greatest disciples, going on to write half of the books of the New Testament. Saul became known by his Roman name, Paul, and traveled to many countries, spreading God's message. He endured numerous beatings, snake bites, floggings, shipwrecks, and eventually a beheading, yet never feared, for he knew his efforts to spread the good news of Jesus Christ weren't in vain."

"Paul's experiences were similar to Jesus' other disciples' experiences; most encountered brutal persecutions and deaths. Yet they willingly accepted their fates _because they had witnessed Jesus' death, resurrection, and ascension into Heaven_. They had also received the power of the Holy Spirit soon after his ascension. Had the apostles not seen Jesus after his death, they would have undoubtedly remained huddled up in their homes in hiding, which is where they retreated in fear for three days when Jesus was crucified."

"Fellow Christians, these passages tell us that Heaven is real, and worth it, worth brutal earthly fates fighting for Jesus. Paul's experiences also suggest that God forgives and accepts even some of the worst sinners, so long as they repent and devote their lives to him and accept Jesus as their Savior."

"Let us pray."

The church prayed along with the pastor who soon ended the service. Then its attendees strolled out of the church and into the parking lot.

Braedon waited in line for the pastor who was shaking hands with the churchgoers in front of one of the three sets of double doors. The other churchgoers appeared warm, yet unfamiliar, which surprised Braedon since he'd spent most of his life in Orange Bay. He scanned the crowd again and this time spotted the son. "What was his name?" The son looked like a young version of him with dark hair, gelled and styled, a tall muscular frame, and a confident stride. Good looking kid. The son looked at him before walking away.

"As if he didn't see me."

His attention turned to the pastor. As he studied him, he determined that that he was a kind man, full of knowledge and wit. His dark brown hair was sprinkled with grey and generously framed his chunky round face and weak chin. Standing just under six feet tall, he was broad shouldered and a little stocky with a belly that gripped the bottom of his shirt just over his belt. After a handful of attendees shook the pastor's hand, it was Braedon's turn, so he grabbed the pastor's hand tightly and thanked him. The pastor looked at him warmly and said, "Thank you for coming! God bless you."

"Your sermon today helped me and I just want to say thanks."

The pastor said, "Braedon, God worked through me today to get to you."

Tears came into Braedon's eyes. "How did you know my name?"

"How do you think?"

Braedon smiled. "Wow. I'll be back next week."

He thought of heading over to the Sunday school classrooms in the large building next door to the church to meet up with his wife and daughters, but realized that he didn't know where they were. They'd probably be gone before he got there anyway. He'd just go home and tell his wife about his visit to the church.

As he drove, he reflected on the sermon, focusing most closely on Paul and the apostles. "Heroes. True heroes. Brave and fearless."

A sense of peace soon came over him and he felt a calmness that he'd never felt before. The empty shell of a body he'd been occupying was empty no more.

"Please forgive me Lord. I'll change. I promise."

When he got home, he changed into his comfortable clothes and kicked off his shoes before strolling over to his favorite chair in the family room. A Bible in the bookshelf caught his eye, so he grabbed it just before sitting down.

"They should be home any time now."

He couldn't wait to see them to tell them about his day in the church. Couldn't wait. And while he waited for them, he'd read a few Bible passages. So much learning to do.
Chapter 19

A Day at the Zoo

After dinner that night, Tricia left to go back to the church to work on organizing charitable distributions to Guatemala. He wasn't happy that she was gone and had left him alone with the girls, but he'd started to understand her interests in working with the church and helping others. She'd told him that she was happy to hear that he was in the church that morning and that she was bummed that she'd missed him. She'd taken time off from the choir to attend an important session of a Bible study on the book of Ephesians about marriage.

"She's doing all of the right things."

He sat in the reclining chair in the family room and watched his daughters, who were circling a coffee table in front of him in a game of tag. They were being a little too noisy, so he figured he'd try to get them to calm down.

"Girls, wanna watch a movie? How about Shrek?"

"Yeah!" Kaylee responded.

"No," Haley said in her tiny voice, "I don't want to watch a movie. I play with my dolls."

"How about playing with your dolls here in the family room, while Kaylee and I watch the movie?"

"Okay Daddy." Haley went into her bedroom and collected her dolls and carried them into the family room, where she plopped them on the floor. She returned to her room and soon appeared in her doorway with her dollhouse. It was almost as big as she was and she was having a difficult time dragging it into the hallway.

He got up from his chair and walked over towards her. "Haley, let me help you with that." The doll house was a little heavy as he gripped it tightly and carried it from the hallway to the family room. It was another splurge from his wife, but spilt milk.

"Try not to think about those things. Try not to think about money."

He knelt down to the ground and placed each of her dolls into a separate room of the dollhouse. "How about that, Haley?"

"Thank you Daddy," she said as she sat down in front of the doll house.

He returned to his favorite chair and Kaylee crawled into his lap. Feeling comfortable and loved, he cuddled with his daughter and simultaneously flipped the channels to find the Shrek movie on his remote. Seconds later, Shrek and his sidekick donkey appeared on the flat screen television.

"Yay," Kaylee said.

"Girls, do you want to go to the zoo tomorrow? I'll take you out of daycare, if you want, to go to the zoo. We can look at zebras and elephants and snakes and monkeys."

"Yeah, Daddy," Haley said as she jumped onto his lap next to her sister.

"I wanna go too," Kaylee said, "but I don't like snakes."

"Well we can skip the snake exhibit. They have penguins and birds and kangaroos there too. Okay, it's final then. Tomorrow we'll go to the zoo. Maybe Mom will play hooky from school and join us."

***

The girls fell asleep in his lap, so he carried them into their bedroom and tucked them into their beds. He always enjoyed watching them sleeping, so peaceful and innocent. Quiet time. He returned to the family room to wait for his wife.

"Why have I been so critical of her?" He thought. "She really isn't that fat. Probably normal by societal standards. Just a little out of shape."

Braedon reminisced about his life and his upbringing, questioning his feelings on weight gain and obesity. His mom came to mind. When she had married his dad, she was probably a size two, appearing thin and radiant in their wedding photo. After she gave birth to Braedon, she was a bit larger, but still at a generally accepted weight for her height. Then she plumped up like a balloon. By the time Braedon was in high school, she'd topped 200 pounds. When he graduated, she'd reached 250.

It had embarrassed him when she picked him up from school and his friends made fun of him. They made so many 'your mama' jokes that he could barely face them.

She made him angry and resentful, so he'd asked her to avoid high school events, especially his graduation. She showed up anyway. He didn't want her to show up for his college graduation either, but she did anyway. She never listened.

"Why did she love food so much?" Baking and cooking were her hobbies, and eating was her passion. She ate at least six meals daily, supplemented by cookies, pies, and cakes. She never stopped eating and crunching and munching and grazing all day long. "How about a pizza for lunch?" She'd ask. "How about a pizza for dinner?" She'd order two pizzas, one for herself and the other for the family. Pizza made him sick to his stomach.

"But she also loved me." It wasn't until his mid-twenties that he decided that he'd accept her as she was and love her unconditionally. But he'd also decided that he didn't want to accept anyone else under the same circumstances, particularly the woman he married.

But maybe Tricia wasn't on the same obesity track. Maybe she was at a comfortable weight and would stay there for the rest of her life. Maybe he'd been overly critical of her and overly worried about her weight gain possibilities.

The garage door opened. "Braedon, I'm home," she called out as she entered the house.

"Hi Trish. How was the church?"

"Good, helped over a hundred kids in Guatemala tonight. They're happy for that."

"That's great Trish. I think I'll start joining you. You've been setting such a good example for the kids and I'd like to be a good example too."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah, I think you're doing the right thing and I need to make a few changes in my life. Church is a good change. Next Sunday, I'll join you. Maybe help you in Sunday school too. What do you think?"

"Wow Braedon."

He looked at her as he waited for an additional sign of approval, but she was just staring at him. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, cuffed up under her knees, and an airy button-down cotton shirt. She looked casual, and somewhat fashionable. He noticed that she had eye makeup on, along with a bit of red lipstick and blush. Maybe she was starting to care a little more about her appearance. He didn't know for sure.

"Are you okay with that, Trish?"

"Well, maybe in a month or so as far as Sunday school goes. They've set the schedule and the lessons, so I won't need any help for a while."

"Okay, well, that's cool," he said.

He studied her expression, which seemed a little cold. Maybe she was a little bitter about the way he'd treated her over the past few years. He'd need time to make up for that, but he'd do what he could. After all, she was his wife and the mother of his children and it was time he did things right.

"Well, I'm going to hit the hay. I'm worn out," she said as she started to turn around.

"Hey, Tricia."

"Yeah?"

"You look nice tonight. How about joining me at the zoo tomorrow with the girls? Play hooky from school. I told them I'd take them out of the daycare to take them there. We'll have a nice family day."

"No, I can't do that. The comprehensive exams start tomorrow in the school. Sorry."

"No problem. I understand."

"Goodnight Braedon."

"Goodnight."

***

Braedon was prepared for a long day at the zoo. He put suntan lotion on the girls before leaving and dressed them in sundresses with comfortable sandals and floppy hats. He packed diapers and backup clothing too, in case either had accidents or something unexpected happened. With toddlers, backup clothing was a necessity. He'd also packed a small cooler with bottled waters, snacks, and sandwiches for the girls and planned to carry the cooler into the zoo in the bottom of the double stroller.

He and his daughters arrived at the zoo at 8:30 a.m. on that relatively cool, sunny Monday morning. Braedon wheeled the girls in the stroller through the parking lot and up to the ticketing agents where he paid for an annual family pass. The pass was on sale that week, and he considered the price quite a bargain for unlimited attendance over the coming year.

"Where do you want to go first, girls? If we go left, we'll see the monkeys. If we go right, we'll see the giraffes."

"Giraffes," Haley said.

"No monkeys," Kaylee said.

"We'll flip a coin. If it lands on heads, we'll see the giraffes first and on tails, the monkeys. He flipped the coin and said, "Monkeys it is. Don't worry Haley, we'll see everything here today. We'll circle around and hit the giraffes before leaving the park."

"Okay Daddy. Can we get cotton candy?"

"After lunch. I brought lunches for you. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, raisins, and chips."

"Can we eat now so we can get cotton candy?" Haley asked.

"No, in just a little while. After we see the kangaroos, we'll have lunch in the park area."

"Okay Daddy."

"I love you two. You're my little strawberry delights."

"I love you too Daddy," Haley said.

"Me too!"

He wheeled up to the monkeys and the girls admired them in their jungle-like habitats, which were filled with ropes, hammocks, and trees atop a stream and surrounded by caves, rock, and grass. They made a variety of noises that varied in pitch and volume as they scampered around the grounds and swung between the trees. A mother monkey sat on top of the hammock, feeding her young.

"I like the monkeys," Kaylee said as she climbed out of the stroller. Haley climbed out of her chair and stood next to her. They both stepped onto the ledge, which bordered the habitat, and studied the monkeys. Braedon stood next to them.

"I like the monkeys too," Braedon answered. "They're the animals that are most like humans. They have feelings and they're smart, and wouldn't you like to swing from tree to tree without a care in the world?"

"Yeah," Kaylee answered, "can I?" She looked up at her dad with her crystal blue eyes, wide open and curious.

"No, not here, but maybe we'll hang a swing from one of our tree branches at home sometime."

They watched the monkeys for a little longer before hopping back into the stroller and heading to the tropical birds' nest area. Both of the twins loved birds and the birds at the zoo were all sorts of species in all sizes and colors.

"Are you ready to see some birdies?" He asked as he stopped the stroller in front of the birds' nest area.

"Yeah. I love birdies," Kaylee said.

"Me too."

The girls hopped out of the stroller, which he parked in the stroller area, and all three walked inside of the birds' nest area.

Braedon loved being outside with his kids. Neighborhood walks, parks, theme parks, the beach, and the zoo were ideal ways for a dad to bond with his daughters. It was so much better than being cooped up inside of the house on a sunny day. He decided that they'd be using the annual family pass to the zoo often.
Chapter 20

An End and a Beginning

Two weeks later, on a Friday, the front page of the local paper revealed that Barbara Collins, the renowned founder of a community foster home, had passed away the night before. She'd finally lost her battle with cancer. Nick read the article as tears streamed down his face. He recalled Barbara's many good deeds and the way she served others. She exemplified a term he'd learned in school: servant leadership.

Then a different photo on the front page caught his attention. It was a photo of a man he'd seen before at the luncheon and at the fundraiser, and most recently at the church. The photographer. Braedon Ramsey. He thought of the missing wedding band and of the wife who'd died of cancer. He read the headline, "Pregnant Woman Shoots and Kills Husband, Thinking an Intruder." The story that followed indicated that Tricia Ramsey had purchased a gun for her family's protection a couple of years prior to the shooting, which she hid in her nightstand. When Braedon Ramsey arrived home from work in the middle of the night, the room was dark and she mistook him to be a burglar and shot him. She was mortified when she discovered her error and called 911 immediately. They had two twin toddler girls.

"Karma. He got what he deserved. He lied about his wife, probably after Mom. Cheater." He reflected on the way he noticed Braedon in the church the previous Sunday. "Faker."

He thought of his mom and the chemotherapy she'd just begun. It had already weakened her quite a bit; she was having difficulty walking and seemed very depressed and tired. Nick had offered to quit his job at the summer camp to become her full-time caretaker, but she wanted him to continue to work to keep his mind off of her cancer. She'd hired a nurse named Fey from a home healthcare facility to tend to her medical needs and to administer fluids and check on her vital signs and progress. Nurse Fey took her to her doctor appointments and chemotherapy sessions.

"I need to be here for her this fall," he said as he searched his phone for the State University Registrar's phone number. "Maybe I can take on-line classes from home," he said as he got up from his chair and dialed.

His hopes were confirmed after two calls to the Advising Office and the Registrar's Office. He'd be awarded his diploma in December following successful completion of three business courses. He called his coach and shared his plans and fortunately, his coach was supportive. "Probably wouldn't have been so supportive if I starred on the team, but since I was only a backup..."

Nick returned to the couch and turned the pages of the paper to read the rest of the story about Braedon Ramsey. Tricia Ramsey was pictured in a headshot.

"She looks familiar, but from where? Was she at the fundraiser or at the church or someplace else?"

He continued reading the article and discovered that she belonged to the church he attended. "Sad," he said, "I must have seen her before in the church. Now she'll have to take care of three kids all by herself." He finished the paper, folded it up, and carried it to the recycle bin in the garage, tucking it under other papers in the bin. "No sense in showing this to Mom. She's already depressed enough. She doesn't need to know that the guy who was flirting with her was married and is now dead. No need for that."

The phone rang, so he got up and walked into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello."

"Hi, is this Nick?"

"Yes, who's this?" Nick sensed a familiarity of the female caller's voice.

"Piper McCoy."

Nick's heart raced and he felt his hands shaking. Piper? Is this a dream? He struggled to compose himself before saying, "Hi Piper! It's great to hear from you."

"Nick, I heard about your mom. I'm so sorry. You probably don't know this but my mom died of cancer when I was in the seventh grade. I miss her so much," she said in a shaky voice. "I thought I'd call to offer you support."

"Wow, thanks Piper, I really appreciate it" he said as his face lit up. "Geez, I thought you hated me."

"Hated you? No. I never hated you. I just didn't want to date you since you always seemed like you were on the prowl for women. Marlis told me a few weeks ago that you've changed since Tyrone's death, though. And she told me a few days ago about your mom. I started thinking about calling you."

"I'm glad you did."

"But my thoughts didn't turn into action until I talked to Parker and Aiden."

"What did they say?" Nick asked. "You know I saw you in the parking lot on my first day of coaching them, but you drove away before I could say hello."

"Sorry about that. I shouldn't have done that. I didn't want to talk to you because I didn't think you were my type."

"Didn't think?" Nick asked, feeling a ray of hope.

"Yeah. Didn't think. I like gentlemen. But then I started thinking more about you. You looked like a loving son to your mother at the luncheon and you've been a good example to Parker and Aiden on the field. Maybe my judgments of you were in error. Parker and Aiden told me that you're a really great guy. And that you really care about them. And that they admire you."

"Really? Parker and Aiden said that?"

"Yup. That's when I knew I needed to call you."

Nick smiled. He started feeling a bit lightheaded as his thoughts were racing. He said in a slightly audible voice, "Could be fate."

He figured he'd give it a shot. "Piper, would you want to talk more in person? Maybe we could go to the beach?"

"Sure, I'd love to."

"Really?" He said excitedly, "how about tomorrow afternoon? I'll come over and pick you up."

"That sounds nice Nick," she said, "why not?"

He confirmed a few details along with her address before hanging up the phone. Nick couldn't believe the way the day had taken a turn for the better, from depressing and sad in the beginning to exciting and hopeful in the end. The mixed emotions caused his stomach to twist and turn, causing a passing bit of anxiety and the need to throw up. He took a deep breath and the feeling passed.
Chapter 21

A Date at the Beach

Nick pulled out of the driveway with Piper's address plugged in to the navigation system on his mobile phone. She lived just outside of his old neighborhood, which was about forty minutes away. He listened to Christian music and hummed along as he drove to her house, feeling both light-headed and light-hearted. Time for a fun day with a gorgeous girl.

As he drove, a sign advertising a Christian bookstore caught his eye and he remembered how he needed a Bible with both the Old Testament and the New Testament as his pocket version only contained the New Testament. He turned into its parking lot and parked.

"Can I help you," a friendly voice asked as he strolled through the front door.

"Just looking for a Bible," he answered.

"Aisle four."

Nick walked over to Aisle 4 and picked out a New International Version Bible. He paid for it and returned to his car.

"Tomorrow, I'll go through the Old Testament," he said to himself as he placed the Bible on the floor behind the driver's seat.

A short while later he approached her house, which was an older ranch-style house with beige trim and white shutters. Marigold flowers lined the walkway to her front porch, which featured by two oversized terracotta planters holding flowering hibiscus bushes. He parked in the driveway and took a deep break, still feeling the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Don't overthink this," he said, "she's just a girl." He walked to the door and knocked.

The girl who answered the door looked like a younger version of Piper. She was wearing a ponytail and a blue sundress and was probably around ten years old.

"She must have been very young when her mom died," Nick thought to himself, "poor little girl."

"Hi," she said.

"Hi, is Piper home?"

"Piper! Someone's here to see you," she yelled.

Piper came to the door wearing a light yellow sundress over her swimsuit and a pair of black flip flops. She'd coordinated the color of her sundress with her polished fingernails and toenails, which contrasted her olive skin and dark hair. She carried a beach bag, which she'd stocked full, and a folding beach chair.

"Are you ready?" Nick asked.

"Yup," she said as she closed the front door behind her and followed Nick to his car. He popped open his trunk and helped her put her things inside of it and then dashed to her door so that he could open it for her.

She smiled at him as she tucked herself into the passenger seat.

"Thanks, Nick."

He hopped into the driver's seat and ignited the engine. They were off. He fiddled with the radio stations before landing on a country music song that he liked, which he played at a low volume so as not to stifle any conversation.

They engaged in small talk, mainly about the weather and sports. Safe subjects for a first date. About an hour later, they arrived at Holmes Beach in Anna Maria Island, so they parked the car in the first available parking spot they found. Parking spots on Saturdays in Anna Maria Island were always difficult to find, so Nick felt lucky. They got out and grabbed their beach gear from the trunk and headed onto the beach.

"How about here?" Nick said as he stopped mid-way between the parking lot and the ocean on the beach.

"Works for me."

They positioned their beach chairs next to one another and assembled their towels and tanning gear before sitting down. Nick had packed a small cooler of sodas and waters, which he positioned between them, leaving the beer behind. He hadn't felt the urge for a beer in a couple of weeks, ever since he'd started praying more intensely, and he was glad for that.

He opened his cooler. "Thirsty?"

Piper looked into the cooler. "Thanks Nick, I'll take water."

"So, how was your spring semester at State?" He pulled a water bottle from the cooler and handed it to her and grabbed a soda for himself.

"Good. I graduated. Walked down the aisle. And I just landed a job at HHB Networks as a marketing assistant. I'm going to be handling a good portion of their social media."

"Cool. I'm double majoring in finance or management, so I won't graduate until December. My original plans were to catch one last semester on the football field to try to get a little more action and attention than I'd gotten before. But I've decided to take my final classes on-line. It's not like the NFL was calling anyway. And I need to be home for my mom."

"That's cool. Could be safer off the field anyway," she said. "So dangerous with all of the concussions and injuries. I keep thinking about Tyrone's death too. And his poor family."

"I know. I do too."

She nodded as she looked at Nick and said, "How's your mom?"

"Well, I can't say she's doing better. The chemo's been awful. It kills the good and the bad cells inside of you and it's weakened her quite a bit. She's tired and depressed and just isn't herself. We have a nurse who comes by to help out, and I help out when I'm home as much as possible. But she has stage four cancer and the doctor's words are all doom and gloom. All I can do now is pray for a miracle."

"I'm so sorry, Nick. My mom had cancer too, so I know what you're going through. It's awful."

Both became quiet for the next few minutes as they stared out into the ocean. The breeze was light and the waves were smooth, with few whitecaps. The blue sky bore a handful of popcorn clouds, and little other than the sounds of waves and seagulls could be heard, which masked the sounds of the rings coming from Nick's cell phone.

"Wanna go for a walk," Nick asked.

"Sure." Piper stood up from her chair. He stood up next to her and the two walked down the beach. She carried a small bag for seashells and walked next to Nick, occasionally picking up seashells as they headed south along the water. They walked and talked and Nick found that he greatly enjoyed her company; she was very easy to be around.

Finally feeling comfortable, he asked the question that had been bugging him. "So, what made you change your mind about football players?"

"I didn't change my mind. That was just an excuse. I really just didn't want to date you."

"Geez, tough crowd."

She continued, "Well, you seemed sort of obnoxious in high school, and even that time when I saw you at State and you used that story about how you wrestled with a shark on me. That had to be one of Bob's stories."

He chuckled.

"But then Marlis told me that Tanner told her that you'd changed since Tyrone's death, and that you'd grown up. She told me that your mom had cancer and I felt that I needed to give you my support. I'd been kind of mean to you, you know, but I was always attracted to you."

Nick felt a twinge of excitement. "You definitely kept my head spinning, but I kind of liked that. You kept me on my toes. I never used the shark story on anyone else again," he paused. Maybe I should give it to Bob."

She looked at him with a warm expression and said, "It was pretty bad, Nick. I'm glad you dropped it."

He started wading out into the ocean and she followed him. They spent some time floating in the water as they got to know one another a bit more. She was very attractive and he was still on his guard as he didn't want to do or say anything stupid. He was still digesting the fact that he was with his dream woman on the beach. As they floated in the water and bounced up and down in the waves, his mom came to mind.

"I hope she's doing better today. The nurse was going to take her to the doctor. I hope everything is okay." He looked over at Piper, who nodded her head in an understanding way, and again admired her physical appearance.

"Love, love, love, the way her figure fills out that yellow bikini," he thought to himself. He didn't want to say anything about the bikini, however, because he feared that his words could come across the wrong way. Piper's straight dark hair, camel-colored eyes, olive skin, and full lips gave her the appearance of an exotic beauty. He couldn't help but think of sleeping with her and those thoughts held his attention for a while.

But his dreamy thoughts were interrupted with thoughts of a plane crashing and burning to the ground. Something wasn't okay. He felt a rush of sickness and sadness well up inside of him as he turned to Piper, "Oh, man. Something's wrong. It's weird, I feel like something bad just happened. In Orange Bay. Something bad just happened in Orange Bay, which is at least an hour away from us." His hands were trembling.

"Piper, I need to go check my cell phone. I'll be right back," he said as he sprinted out of the water and back to the chairs.

When he arrived, he wiped his hands on his towel and pulled his cell phone from his bag. He'd missed five calls from the home health care center. He quickly called them back.

"Hi, it's Nick. Everything okay?"

"No," responded Nancy, the director. Nick's heart sank.

"Your mom and nurse Fey were in an accident on I-275. They were hit head-on by a driver going the wrong-way. They're lucky to be alive Nick. They've both been taken by ambulance to the intensive care unit at the hospital by your house. Your mom is unconscious." Can you get over there? Your mom needs you."

"I'll be right there. I'm about an hour away, but I'm on my way," Nick said as his eyes filled with tears.

"Piper," he yelled as he ran down to the water, "Can you come with me to the hospital? I don't have time to get you home first. My mom and her nurse were in a car accident. They're in the ICU!"

Piper swam and then ran out of the water, grabbing her bag of shells from the spot she'd left it on her way back to the chairs. She helped Nick gather their belongings and then both rushed over to his car, throwing everything in a sandy heap into the trunk. They were sandy too, but they didn't have time to rinse their feet. They were off and on their way.
Chapter 22

The Rush to the Hospital

With Piper by his side sitting silently, Nick drove his Mustang off the Island and through Bradenton until he reached the I-75 exit. He drove on to the ramp and began to accelerate. By the time he entered the highway, he was going fifty miles an hour. Within a couple of minutes, he was going seventy. Eighty. Then ninety.

"Nick, please slow down! I'd like to get there alive."

"I need to see her. I don't think she'll make it out of the hospital, Piper, and I need to talk to her before she passes. I have something to tell her."

"Oh, Nick, don't worry. I'm sure she knows you love her."

"She definitely knows I love her," he said. He slowed down to eighty miles per hour to mitigate Piper's concerns.

But his thoughts were still racing. He still hadn't fully accepted his mom's fate when he learned of her cancer, but he'd been watching her over the days since and a future without her had started to sink in. Her face had paled and she'd lost some hope and the chemo was just killing her.

A serious automobile accident for someone in that condition was like a death sentence, but she couldn't die yet. He needed more time to prepare his case for Jesus and he hadn't been making the best use of the time he'd had with her since he found out about her diagnosis. He'd just now picked up the Bible with the Old Testament included and he should have done that a long time ago. The proof was in the Bible, especially in the Old Testament passages. "Lord, please give me the time to read the passages to her." He repeated the words over and over in his mind as he raced north on the highway. The ride seemed to be taking forever. He pushed the gas a bit harder and was now traveling at eighty-five miles per hour.

Jesus words' played in his mind, which were his words about the way it would be easier to squeeze a camel through a needle than to get a rich person into Heaven. "I'll make sure her money goes to good causes. I'm sure she would have donated it herself if she'd had time to think about it. I'll take care of it for her," he bargained. "Please, just let me have a little more time with her."

He didn't see the police car hiding in the brush on the side of the highway, and didn't notice that it was now just behind him. But he heard the siren, so he checked his rearview mirror. That's when he saw the cop behind him and the blue lights flashing, forcing him to slow down and pull over to the right side of the road.

"Oh, this is just great," he complained to Piper. "Just great."

The cop walked up to the driver's side of the car and peered into the window.

"License and registration please."

Nick fumbled around a bit, looking for his wallet, which was wedged inside of his glove compartment. He grabbed his driver's license and handed it to her before searching the glove compartment for his vehicle registration. Soon both were in her hands.

He watched the cop in his rearview mirror as she returned to her car. Her short and somewhat chunky frame jiggled a bit, but she exuded a cool confidence. Fidgeting in his chair, he felt anxious to get to the hospital as he waited and watched her in the rearview mirror. And waited. And watched. She'd already taken too much of his time and his time was more valuable now than it had ever been. Seconds passed. Then minutes. More fidgeting.

"It's okay. Don't worry, we'll get there in time," Piper said.

He looked at her and asked, "Piper, do you believe in Jesus?"

"Absolutely!"

"Well my mom doesn't. I've been building a case for Jesus since I found out she didn't believe in May to convince her that he's our Savior, but I'm not done yet. I need to reference the passages in the Old Testament that predicted Jesus' life, but I just bought the Bible this morning. It's in the back seat."

"How about if I drive so you can find the passages?"

He looked at her. No one else had ever driven his before and he wasn't terribly comfortable letting her drive his car.

"Have you ever driven a Mustang? Mustangs are powerful, you know."

"Nick, I can handle it. I'm sure I won't need the strength you needed to overcome the shark!"

He smiled and shook his head.

The cop returned with his driver's license and vehicle registration, along with a speeding ticket. She reprimanded Nick before returning to her car and driving off.

Piper waited until she was out of sight before getting out of the car and exchanging seats with Nick who hopped into the passenger seat with the Bible in his hands. It was time to search for the passages.

As he searched, he tried to hold back the tears, but failed. Tears streamed down his face as he thought of his mom and her fate. And his fate. She meant so much to him and she was all that he had. With no brothers or sisters or relatives in the area, he'd be all alone.

Nick grabbed a pen and a sticky pad from the glove compartment and began to mark the chapters of the Old Testament that he'd heard discussed by the pastors over the months since he'd started going to church, starting with Isaiah. Then he marked Genesis 3:15 and Zechariah 9:9.

Piper was at the wheel of the Mustang, driving down the road around seventy-five miles per hour, slightly above the speed limit but in the generally accepted safe zone from ticketing.

Other than the sounds of page flipping and the purring of the engine, little could be heard in the car. Nick had turned the radio off early on because he found it too distracting. He was trying to concentrate his thoughts as best he could at that point.

He thought of Tanner. Nick grabbed his phone from the center console and handed it to Piper. "Can you speed dial number two?" He asked. "Tell Tanner we're on our way to the hospital and ask him if he'll meet us there. I'm going to need his help."

Yet before she could dial, the phone rang.

"Hello," Piper answered. "Sure," she said and handed the phone to Nick.

"Hello."

"Nick, it's Nancy. I'm with your mom now. She's still unconscious but her vital signs are good. She's a strong woman."

"Yes, she is," Nick confirmed with a hint of a grin, "We're about ten minutes from the hospital. Had a delay, but we'll be there ASAP."

He looked up at Piper, who was driving the car a little over the speed limit. "Piper, I'm sorry this has been such a horrible first date. I promise that if you'll go out with me again, the next time will be much better. I promise."

She chuckled, "Yeah, can't say I've had a date like this before. Who knows what's next?"

He turned to her and smiled warmly.

"Nick," she said, "I'd love to go out with you again. You have more character than I ever realized."
Chapter 23

Let's Just Say a Little Butterfly Told Me

After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled into the hospital parking lot. Piper found a space in the parking garage on the third floor and the two exited the car and walked to the entrance of the hospital.

"Can I help you?" the woman at the front desk asked.

"Yes, I'm Nick O'Brien and my mom Catherine O'Brien came here by ambulance a short while ago. Can you please let me know which room she's in? Oh, and can you let me know the room of Fey Rodriguez? She's her nurse and she arrived by ambulance."

The woman checked the computer in front of her. "Your mom is in 316b in the ICU and Ms. Rodriguez is in 301a, just down the hallway." She gave him directions to the room.

Nick and Piper hurried down the hallway, up an elevator, and down another hallway to her room. He held his Bible tightly by his side and had prepared the things he wanted to say. He hoped to find his mom awake.

When he entered her room just in front of Piper, he found her in her bed attached to a number of tubes and wires. A nurse greeted him and then left the room. He walked up to his mom and took a chair by her side. She was pale, almost ghostly, and he quickly noticed the bandages on her face. The rest of her body was covered in sheets, and it pained him to think of what was under the sheets, the other outcomes of the accident.

Piper sat down in a chair by the window and Nick pulled another chair up to the bed. He grabbed his mom's hand and held it tightly, and prayed. After opening his Bible to the verses he'd identified on his ride to the hospital, he wondered whether she'd be able to hear him if he read her the verses. Probably not. Her eyes were closed and all he could hear from her was the sound of her heart beating on the heart monitor. She was sleeping. Or vegetative. Closing the Bible on his lap, he chose to wait.

He looked around the sterile room and at the heartbeat monitor and at all of the tubes in his mom's body.

"She may die soon," he thought as he studied her body, and he'd be left all alone. A feeling of loneliness and sadness blanketed his mind and ruptured any sense of positivity he could stir up within him. If she died, he'd be the only O'Brien to carry on the family name. No siblings. He'd always wanted siblings.

But he had Tanner. Tanner was like a brother and he was on his way to the hospital. Hopefully he was near; he needed to see his friend. And he was happy to be with Piper too. Piper was a dream to be around.

"Jesus, if she must die now, please let her join you in Heaven," he prayed, "Please. She's been the best mom ever. I couldn't have asked for more. She helped me so much with my dad. I wouldn't have made it without her."

"It's time to give the Bible a try." He opened the Bible, which was still sitting on his lap, and read a few passages from the book of Psalms. His mom's face showed no response. Nothing. Not wanting to give up, he read her John 3:16. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." Still nothing. Her hand hung limply by her side on the hospital bed and he felt the urge to grab it and squeeze it, which he did. Still nothing. So he turned to other passages that he'd identified on his way to the hospital and read them all. No sign from his mom. Nothing.

He flipped the pages to the book of Isaiah and read her chapter 53, which described Jesus' torture and crucifixion.

"Mom, that passage was written about seven hundred years before Jesus was born. He held her hand tightly. Still nothing.

Twenty minutes passed before Tanner walked into the room, carrying both a Bible and a book by C.S. Lewis. He pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of Catherine's hospital bed. He held her other hand and prayed with Nick silently.

"I read her a bunch of passages from the Bible, which I thought would help her. She told me she doesn't believe in Jesus, you know. That's why she never took me to church."

Tanner's eyes filled with tears as he looked at Nick's mom.

"I'm so sorry, Nick. I'm here for you and I'll do what I can to help you. And your mom. She was always good to me."

Nick faced his mom and said, "At a time in Israel when women were treated as second class citizens, much as they're still treated today in some countries of the Arab region, Jesus gave Mary Magdalene the privilege of making the most important discovery in the Bible; the discovery that he has risen. Why would the males who wrote the chapters of the Bible have made that part up? Why would the male church scholars who determined which chapters to incorporate into the Bible select the four gospels, which all identified Mary Magdalene as the discoverer of Jesus' empty tomb? Wouldn't they have crafted a story that was more acceptable to the leaders of their times? They were trying to recruit and blasphemy was a death sentence."

Nick looked over at Tanner, who was sitting in a chair in his favorite fishing t-shirt and worn tan shorts. Just under his rumpled blonde mop, he watched Tanner smile and say, "I bet Jesus is here right now with us, blessing us and praying over your mom."

After a few more minutes, a nurse arrived. She was carrying a notepad and started checking Catherine's vital signs. She made a few notes and was just about to leave the room when Nick asked, "How's she doing?"

"Well, she's still alive," the nurse replied before leaving the room. Nick didn't like her answer, which came across as far too apathetic.

He read Psalm 23 to his mom and looked for a response. Nothing.

Tanner followed up with a message he'd read by C.S. Lewis. "Mrs. O'Brien, you may be like those people who consider Jesus merely a prophet or a great moral teacher. I like what C.S. Lewis said about that. He said that one must _never_ say the very foolish thing that people often say about Jesus, that they are ready to accept him as a great moral teacher, but they aren't ready to accept his claim to be the Son of God. If a mere mortal made the sorts of claims that Jesus made, he would not be a _great moral teacher_. He would have been either a lunatic, similar to a person who claims to be a poached egg, or the Devil of Hell. People can either accept that Jesus is the Son of God and fall at his feet and praise him, or they can decide that he was a madman or something worse. Considering him to be merely a moral teacher is patronizing nonsense. Jesus did not give us that choice."

"Good one, Tanner," Nick whispered, "well put." He hadn't heard those words before, but they applied to his mom. He and Tanner each held one of her hands, but he still felt no response. Nick wondered if her spirit had already left her. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his strength and stood up.

"Tanner, could you stay here for a few minutes? I need to check on my mom's nurse. She was driving the car when they had the accident. She's just down the hallway."

"No problem, Nick, I'll stay here."

Nick walked down the hallway to see how Fey was doing. Fey was a petite woman with salt and pepper hair, probably in her fifties, and of Hispanic descent. She spoke with a slight accent and Nick decided that she'd probably been raised in one of the Central American countries. He knew little else about her, other than the fact that his mom really liked her. When he got to her room, he found her awake, though injured and in a neck brace.

"How are you doing?" He asked, "I'm so sorry about the accident."

"Oh Nick," she responded, "It's not your fault! That driver was going the wrong way down the highway. We didn't stand a chance."

"Well I'm glad you're conscious and I can talk to you. My mom is still unconscious," Nick uttered.

"Well, she can hear you, Nick. She's listening to each and every one of those Bible passages you've been you've been reading to her."

"How'd you know that?" Nick was astonished.

"Oh, let's just say that a little butterfly told me," she answered with a wink.

Nick was a bit taken aback. She'd never talked like this before. "Butterfly?" He stared at her for a short while. "Fey, do you believe in Jesus?"

"Are you kidding? You bet I do! And I know he's standing next to me right now praying over me and giving me strength. I should be getting out of here no later than tomorrow. He's doing the same for your mother too."

"You give me hope Fey," he said as he walked up to her and gripped her hand. "Thank you and God bless you. I'm sure he has a place prepared for you in Heaven."

"God bless you too. I'm sure he has a place prepared for you too. Now go back and tend to your mom. She needs you."

Nick bid goodbye and headed back to his mom's room. He couldn't wait to share Fey's message with Tanner. When he arrived, he found Tanner sitting next to his mom, praying over her audibly.
Chapter 24

The Decision to Believe

Nick held his mom's hand tightly, yet let her go when the doctor approached. He moved his chair back to let the doctor do his work. He watched as he checked her pulse and changed the supply of fluids in her feeding tubes.

"How's she doing?" He asked.

"About the same."

Nick moved to the other side of the bed where Tanner was sitting.

"Tanner, mind if I hold her hand?"

"Of course not buddy," Tanner said as he gently let Catherine's hand go so that Nick could hold it. Nick held tight. He prayed silently as he watched a heartbeat line on the monitor next to her bed. Her heart was still beating.

He winked at Piper who was watching them from her chair by the window.

"Nick, I'm sorry that you're going through this."

"Thanks Piper. And thanks for being here."

"Well, the company couldn't be better."

Nick smiled as he turned to his mom. "Mom, if you can hear me please listen to this. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. No one can find the Father without first going through his son Jesus, who died for us and for our salvation. He forgives sins and will forgive even some of the worst sinners so long as you believe in him. Ask for forgiveness and believe in him, Mom, and you will be saved."

He waited but couldn't detect any sort of response.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on her," the doctor said as he left the room.

Nick felt his mom's hand as it suddenly gripped his hand. _She whispered, "Please forgive me Jesus."_ He felt her hand become limp as the heart monitor flat-lined. Nurses and doctors rushed into the room to revive her. They pumped her heart and tried several methods of resuscitation. Nick watched them, half in shock, as he backed the chair he was in away from them to give them some clearance and stood up.

As he stared at the frenzy of doctors and nurses in the room hovering over his mom, he whispered the Lord's Prayer, over and over and over in a slightly audible voice.

A doctor pushed the heart pump, vigorously and methodically, while Nick stared at the heart monitor. "C'mon Mom. You can do it. Please Lord."

A few minutes passed. Then something unusual happened. The monitor indicated that her heart had started beating again and her body soon regained some color. The nurses and doctors cheered as his mom appeared to be gaining strength. A few left the room, while a few stayed. Moments later, only one nurse remained in the room. She'd been stabilized.

"I love you Mom," he said as he moved closer to her hospital bed. Watching her closely for a reaction, he grabbed her hand and held it tightly. He could feel her grip his hand in return and watched her as her face regaining all of its color.

Her lips moved. "Love. I felt love. So much love."

Nick hugged her as tears fell from his eyes. Tanner and Piper followed.

"Mom, maybe all of this is just God's way of working on you to bring you closer to him."

"I have much to learn," she whispered.

"I love you Mom. I'm here with Tanner and Piper, a girl I'd like you to meet when you feel well enough."

Nick, Tanner, and Piper soon fell back into their seats as they watched Catherine.

The final nurse in the room took her vital signs. "She's doing better. It looks like she has the will to pull through this. Regaining consciousness was a big achievement. But she'll need to rest as she recovers from her two broken ribs. Other than that, she has no other physical injuries, aside from a few minor cuts and scrapes."

Nick took a breath and stood up and walked over to the window to look out over the city of Orange Bay, over its many buildings and streets. The sky was still bright as the sun wouldn't set until around 8:30 p.m., which was two and a half hours away. He thought of Christmas with his mom, and Easter, and his birthdays, and Thanksgiving. He felt blessed to be her son.

"Hey, I want to check on Fey. You guys want to join me?"

"Sure," Piper said as she stood up.

"Okay," Tanner said.

The three walked down the hallway and into Fey's room. They walked in and walked right up to Fey and each gave her a hug.

"She said she felt love, Fey. Lots of love."

"But it's not her time," Fey said, "Jesus wants her to complete her mission on earth. She has many gifts and can use them to serve him very well."

"Thanks Fey. You're so insightful."

Piper and Tanner smiled at her.

"Nick," Fey said as their eyes met, "she had the ears that could hear."

Fey looked at Tanner and Piper, "Thanks for offering your support. Your prayers and love have been heard and felt."

"Thank you for your kind words," Piper said.

"For sure," Tanner confirmed.

Nick smiled. "I'm going to head back into my mom's room. Rest up, Fey."

"Thanks, Nick."

Nick, Piper, and Tanner returned to Nick's mom's room and sat down on the chairs in the room.

"This is a hard one," Nick said, "I really appreciate you two for being here with me. You've really helped my mom. But it's getting late. I know you need to get going."

"We're here for you, Nick," Tanner said.

"Yeah, Nick, we are," Piper said.

They all adjusted themselves in their chairs for comfort and watched Nick's mom as she lied in the hospital bed. She looked stronger than she'd initially looked and it appeared that she'd win this battle. It appeared that she wanted to win this battle, and her battle against cancer. She'd been given strength.

A short while later, Tanner said, "Hey, I think I'm ready to head out, head home, grab some grub. I'm a little tired."

"No problem, and thanks for coming by. You really helped my mom."

Nick turned to Piper, "Are you ready to get home?"

"Yes," she said, "I'm a little tired too."

"Thanks Piper. Thanks for coming with me to the hospital. You're the best."

Nick got up and the two walked through the hospital corridors to its front doors. He planned to return to the hospital after that and would spend the night in his mom's room, if permitted by the hospital staff. Otherwise he'd camp out in the lounge just down the hallway from her room.

As they exited the hospital and headed to its parking garage, Nick looked upward into the sky and said another prayer. That's when he spotted a magnificent double rainbow. His eyes welled up in tears, but tears of joy.

"Piper, look at the double rainbow."

"It's beautiful. What colors!"

"Piper, have you ever seen a double rainbow show up on a sunny day?"

"No, I can't say I have."

Nick put his arm around her and winked, "Nothing is impossible with God."

***

While driving Piper home, Nick reflected on the day. He thought of how it started in such a pleasant way at the beach and ended in such a surprising way in the hospital. He looked at Piper and smiled. He was lucky to be with the girl he'd admired all through high school.

"Nick, you've impressed me today. It's too bad I didn't realize what a great guy you were a long time ago."

"I probably wasn't such a great guy a long time ago. Life's changed me."

"It does that."

'I'm glad you were with me today, Piper. You're a good woman."

"Thanks, Nick."

Nick turned on the radio and flipped stations to a Christian station. He heard "Lord I Need You" from Matt Maher and hummed along. He heard Piper humming with him and he could tell she was familiar with the music. That made him happy.

When he pulled into her driveway, he said, "Wait just a minute." He stepped out of the car and circled to her side and opened her door, hoping to be as chivalrous as he could without seeming too cheesy.

"My dear."

"Why, thank you Nick." Piper stepped out of the car and he walked her to the door. He thought of trying to kiss her but decided he'd be the complete gentleman.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Sounds great. I had a nice time with you Nick, even in the hospital."

"Likewise, Piper. I can't wait to see you again."

She walked up and hugged him and they held each other tight.

***

A short while later, he pulled his Mustang into the garage and walked into the house.

Chipper was there to greet him, as always. The miniature schnauzer mix always brightened his day. She was a blessing, the perfect dog. He thought of a bumper sticker he saw while driving to the beach and recalled its words, "Who rescued whom?" He knelt down to pet Chipper before grabbing her leash.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Woof!"

"Let's go."

He slipped on her leash and walked her out of the front door and onto the lawn where she immediately did her business. Then he walked her around the neighborhood. She sniffed and chased squirrels and lizards all along the way, as always.

"So spunky and curious. Our little chief security officer," he thought. They walked for about an hour before she started to seem a little more relaxed and ready to return home.

"You ready girl?" Nick knew her answer as they turned back towards the house. Once they got home, he fed her the usual fancy fare that his mom had purchased for her. His mom put Chipper on a pedestal and treated her very well. He fluffed her blanket and placed it on her dog pillow to prepare a place for her to sleep. She climbed onto her pillow and stared at him.

When he turned to go up the stairs to shower, she followed closely behind. Once he was finished and dressed, she followed him back down the stairs. She watched him as he prepared himself dinner. Nick relaxed on the couch with her for a short while before heading back to the hospital around midnight.

"Bye girl. Watch the house. I'll be back first thing in the morning." Nick watched as Chipper resumed her place on her pillow and stared at him with her lonely eyes. He felt a little guilty.

"See you soon Chipper." He closed the garage door and got into his car and headed back to the hospital. He knew it was going to be a long night, and that he wouldn't be sleeping well, but he hoped the blanket and pillow he'd brought along would make things somewhat comfortable.
Chapter 25

Poor in Spirit and Rich in Love

Nick woke up the next morning and found himself lying across two chairs in the waiting room of the hospital with his pillow under his head and his blanket bunched up at his feet. He checked his watch. 6:13 a.m. He got up and patted his hair down and tucked his t-shirt in to his shorts before strolling down the hall to his mom's room with his pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.

When he walked in, he found her propped up slightly on the hospital bed and awake.

"Hi Mom. How are you feeling?"

"Better. Thanks. I didn't sleep much last night, but that's alright because I've had a lot of time to think about things."

"Mom, tell me more about the love you said you felt yesterday. Do you realize the heart monitor flat-lined just before you said that?"

"Yes, I watched it from above. I watched you too and the nurses and your friends and I could hear your prayers. Then I saw my life flash before my eyes. I saw each and every one of the times I've been given the opportunities to help others, but failed to do so. I saw the way my pride and my possessions and my ego blocked me from seeing those opportunities and instead led me to judge those with other missions in life. And I felt an immense love and passion stronger than anything I've ever felt before."

Nick watched her. She appeared vibrant, like a true fighter, yet humbled as a fox would be humbled by a mighty lion in the jungle.

"Things are going to change. I promise. I can't believe I've been so blinded from the truth for all of these years. I've been greedy, caring too much about my work ethic and success and my ego. None of that is important. You're important, as are all of the people with whom I work, interact, and encounter. You've been right about a lot of things, Nick. And I'm not going to die with my riches and my wealth and a meaningless epitaph. I'm going to die a blessed woman, poor in spirit and rich in love. I want my epitaph to say something about the way I've served and not the way I've lived."

"Mom, nurse Fey thinks that God has given you another chance. You're going to beat the cancer mom. No doubt."

"God willing, Nick, I'm going to beat the cancer. I think he's giving me a second chance and I'm going to seize it with a passion like you've never seen. I'm going to let Jesus work through me to make some significant changes in my life and in the lives of those around me."

Nick smiled. "Mom, I'm excited. I have an idea of a place where we can start. Of course I want to be by your side in this."

"Are you thinking of Barbara Collins' foster home?"

"Wow. Yes. Exactly."

"So am I. And I have some ideas. As soon as I get out of here, let's get over there."

"When will you get out Mom? Do you know? Has the doctor said anything yet?"

It may be a week or so. I'm not sure. I left a message for my other doctor about rescheduling my chemo therapy sessions, due to the accident. The doctor here says I need to rest and recover from the car accident a bit more first."

"That makes sense."

"Oh, and Nick. I've decided that I'll be changing things at Fox 'n Fields as well. I don't need the sort of compensation they're paying me. And we don't need that ostentatious home. We can live quite nicely in something more modest in downtown Orange Bay with a fenced- in yard for Chipper.

Furthermore, I'm going to look into the compensation packages of our employees. There are thousands of hard workers at Fox 'n Fields who are likely struggling to make ends meet for their families with the salaries we're paying them, given today's inflation rates and the high cost of living.

I'm going to speak with the Board about more significant pay for performance plans that incentivize, inspire, and reward those workers. There's no reason that average, mid-level workers shouldn't be pulling in at least $70,000 a year for what they do. It's time I set an example for other CEOs and our boards to follow.

"I totally agree with you. Wow. You amaze me Mom."

"It's not about me anymore. It's about others."

"God bless you Mom."

Both were quiet for a few minutes before Nick stood up. "I'm going to check on nurse Fey."

"Okay."

He walked down the hallway, but found that Fey had already checked out of the hospital. He was glad for that. "She's amazing," he thought to himself as he returned to his mom's room.
Chapter 26

The Alleged Accidental Shooting

A week and a half later, Nick was getting ready for his job at the summer camp when the doorbell rang. He opened the door, finding two cops waiting for him.

"Hi, my name is Officer Brian Beatty of the Orange Bay Police department and with me is Officer John Canfield. We're investigating a shooting and need to speak with Catherine O'Brien."

"A shooting? What are you talking about?" Nick studied the two officers, who were young and fully uniformed with holsters and guns. They appeared a bit stiff and far too serious.

"Well, we can't go into details as we're currently investigating this occurrence. Is Catherine O'Brien available?" Officer Beatty adjusted his stance as he spoke. He was slightly taller and a bit heftier than his counterpart, who seemed to be the proverbial silent partner, and it appeared that his striped beige trousers were two sizes too small. Then he noticed that his partner's pants appeared two sizes too big. "Hmmm. Pants swap?"

The officers appeared anxious, so he broke himself away from his thoughts. "She's sleeping right now. She's recovering from two broken ribs in an auto accident last week, and beyond that she's battling cancer. Do you really need me to wake her up?"

"It would be greatly appreciated in our investigation, sir," Beatty said.

"Okay, hold on just a minute." Nick closed the door and went into his mom's bedroom.

"Mom," he said, "can you talk to two cops? They said there's been a shooting and they'd like to talk to you about it. Not sure of much more."

In the same moment, Nick thought of the press photographer and the newspaper article he'd read about his death a few days before.

"Sure, Nick, I'll come to the door. Give me a few minutes to get out of bed and get dressed. My ribs are killing me."

Nick left her room and returned to the front door.

"She's getting dressed. It's hot out here. Do you guys want to come in?"

"That's okay, sir. We'll wait here."

"Okay, well, she should be here in a minute," Nick said as he closed the door. He sat down on a chair in the living room by the front door and waited for his mom. Within a few minutes, she walked up slowly and opened it.

"Please come in. I can't stand outside in the heat right now in my condition."

Within a minute, Nick found himself seated next to the two cops and his mom in the living room.

He looked again at Beatty's pants when he caught Beatty's beady brown eyes watching him. "Sir, can you please leave the room? We need to talk privately with your mom."

"Sure." Nick went to the next room where he was within an earshot, unbeknownst to the cops.

"Mrs. O'Brien, do you mind if I record our conversation?"

"No."

Nick listened to Beatty as he read his mom her rights and then proceeded to recount the story of the press photographer, his pregnant wife, his young daughters, and the alleged accidental shooting.

"Alleged?" Nick thought.

He heard Beatty say, "We've identified a number of text messages between you and Mr. Ramsey. They indicate that you had a relationship with him, which may or may not have ended prior to the shooting, which occurred on Thursday, June 26th.

Nick shuddered.

"Yes, there was a very brief relationship. We dated twice on the same day, which was the day after a fundraiser I held in my home on May 16th. Braedon was taking photographs at the fundraiser. That's how I met him. The first date was about the fundraiser and my approval of the pictures. The second was a dinner that night."

"But you didn't date him again after that?"

"No. I didn't. I saw him once after that while on my morning jog. He seemed pushy and desperate and it felt a little like he was stalking me. Not my type at all. I also didn't know that he was married. He told me his wife had passed away a couple of years earlier of cancer. Of course I didn't realize he had a pregnant wife at home or small children."

Nick stepped into the room. "Sorry, but I overheard you talking. You guys need to know something. That guy is a snake. He told me that his wife had died of cancer so he could go after my mom. That was at the fundraiser. The shooting was karma. Probably his wife's anger over her husband's cheating."

"Really? That's good to know. And your name is?"

"Nick O'Brien."

"Okay, thank you to both of you. Your help is appreciated. When you're better, would you two mind coming down to the police station to take a deposition?"

"No, I don't mind. I'll come down," Nick answered.

"I will too. Oh, and let me ask you this. Am I going to find my name splattered in all of the papers? Please say no."

"No, not while this is under investigation. We have no intention of leaking this to the press or it would distort the investigation and make it difficult to identify an unbiased jury."

"Thank you."

Nick looked at his mom, who was sitting silently in a chair.

"Mom, I hope you don't mind, but I had to say something. You know, I saw a wedding band on that guy's finger at the Women's Luncheon too. He took it off before he started flirting with you. I should have told you that before. I should have told the police that too. I'll let them know when we go down there."

"That would have been helpful, Nick, but that's okay. You didn't know that I went on a date with him, so you had no reason to tell me. If I would have pursued the relationship, I would have said something to you, but I'd chosen not to pursue it."

"When you have wealth, you always have to be wary of suitors without wealth. You're always questioning their interest in you and looking for flaws. It's difficult because sometimes you don't know if you've made the right judgment call when you either remain with them or break up. In this case, I made the right decision."

"His wife could have read the text messages that he sent to me, which would have indicated that he hadn't been faithful to her. Whether an accident or on purpose, it's probably some sort of karma. He shouldn't have been cheating on his pregnant wife. Plus he had two small daughters. What a shame. Men. Sorry Nick, but some men use the minds under their belts when making decisions."

"True, Mom, but not all of us."

"Well, I know you're perfect, Nick. You're my son. Let's talk about something different. I'm going to rest a bit more and then at 3:15, let's drive over to the foster home for our appointment."

"Sounds good. I'll be back from the summer camp around 2:45. That will give me time to shower, shave, and put on my dark blue suit."

"Good, I plan to wear a blue suit as well. We'll blend nicely together."
Chapter 27

Making a Difference

After a long drive past orange groves, cow pastures, strip plazas, and a few scattered homes and planned communities, Nick and his mom pulled up to the Collins' foster homes in the Ferrari. Nick was driving and his mom was by his side with a pillow wedged between her body and the seat belt, so that it wouldn't rub too hard against her sore ribs. They circled around the property along a road before entering the parking lot and choosing a parking space a short walking distance from the front door of the main facility.

The main facility was a large, freshly painted crème-colored home with rust-colored shutters and matching flower pots under the windows. It could be distinguished as the main facility by the sign that hung over the double doors, "Collins' Home." Its appearance matched the other homes on the wooded property, which were neatly organized along a circular road. As Nick walked up, he looked off to his right where he saw a large pond and a couple of young boys fishing. Beyond that, he noticed basketball courts and tennis courts, which were also occupied by boys and girls, along with a few older staff persons.

"Nice-looking homes," Nick said as he noticed that each of the two story homes was freshly painted and featured colorful flower beds and freshly mowed, healthy green grass. The windows appeared sparkling clean and everything looked very new.

"Definitely. This looks like a good environment for kids. Look at the playground over there," she said as she pointed to a large playground, with swings, slides, and climbing stations to the left of the main facility. The swings and slides were green, while the frame of the playground appeared to be a brown-colored artificial wood. It all blended into the natural wooded environment well.

"Nice."

They walked through the front doors and greeted a receptionist.

"We have an appointment with the board. Nick and Catherine O'Brien."

"Nice to meet you, Nick and Catherine," an older Hispanic-looking woman replied. "They're waiting for you just down the hallway and to the right. The Conference Room."

"Thank you," Nick said as they walked to the Conference Room. There they found eight board members, who all stood up to greet them. The one at the head of the mahogany-colored rectangular conference table greeted them first.

"Greetings! My name is Joan Landers. I'm serving as the chair of the board right now, in place of our founder Barbara Collins on an interim basis. These are our other board members, who each voluntarily serve three-year terms: Brian Cummings, Michael Richter, Janet Riley, Bob Chang, Ed Saltieri, Tyrell Perez, and Damien Dominguez.

"Nice to meet you," Nick said as he went around the table and gave each a hearty handshake. He observed that they represented varying demographic groups, which he determined would pair well with the varying demographics of the children's population in the home. He further observed that all were wearing suits. He was happy he dressed the part.

He noticed a framed picture of Jesus on the wall, which was the same one he'd seen before that had been painted by the child prodigy Akiane. Next to that picture was another picture of Jesus. This time he was kneeling down in front of a group of small children. A verse below read, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these (Matthew 19:14)."

His mom said, "I'd love to go around the table and shake all of your hands, but I'm recovering from a car accident. Please excuse me as I sit down." She pulled out an empty seat from the middle of the table and sat down.

"No problem, Catherine. We will pray for your speedy recovery," Joan said. "Everyone, please sit down." The group moved around the table and took their seats. Nick sat by his mom's side.

Joan turned to Catherine and Nick and said, "Thank you so much for visiting us in the Collins' Foster Home. We're proud of our Christ-inspired mission and vision and all that we do to serve the Lord and our children. We're also honored that you're here with us today. What brings you two here?"

"We're well aware of Barbara Collins' legacy and would like to offer our assistance in achieving your fine mission. Please tell us more about the home," Catherine said.

"Wonderful! Well, our mission statement is simply to 'Provide secure, safe, therapeutic, and loving homes for abused, abandoned, and neglected children.' We currently have the facilities to provide care and shelter for eighty children at once. We're blessed with a good number of volunteers who help us in our efforts, along with a handful of full- and part-time paid staff members who live here. We further have counseling, nursing, and therapeutic people and facilities, since our children have endured a variety of difficult physical and mental abuses and/or conditions. We partner with a variety of children's organizations, hospitals, churches, nonprofits, and local and state governmental organizations."

"Our location is ideal. We're situated on fifteen acres of property and have the option to purchase an additional twelve acres of adjacent land if we secure the funding and the plans for additional home sites. We're further zoned for the "A" rated public elementary, middle, and high schools, so our children can attend those free of charge. They're bused a short distance to those schools during the school year. Those with disabilities that extend beyond those serviced in the public schools are provided schooling in the highest rated special education programs in the county. We also take advantage of other free county services offered by the parks and recreation departments to expand our children's visibility in the community and to engage them further in the community."

"We're proud of what we've achieved, yet we have dreams to achieve more. We estimate that there are around a thousand children currently living in foster care homes in our county as a result of abuse, so there is still much work to do to help these children. Many move frequently between foster homes and never find a permanent place to consider home. Many end up frustrated and homeless once they are taken out of the homes when they turn eighteen. We want to provide our children with a sense of permanence and security, so they need not worry about rejection, further abuse, or the challenges associated with parental frustrations and bleak futures."

"Education provides a future for our children, so we do all we can to ensure that they end up in either college or in vocational schools, depending on their skill sets. We have relationships with several of the state and private universities, along with a large number of vocational schools, and we offer assistance in completing scholarship applications and related applications to ensure that our children take those paths. We don't want our students to miss any of the educational opportunities that may be available to them and to take wayward paths. We further should note that we have relationships with college recruiters and high school counselors for the purposes of ensuring successful futures for our students. We have an extremely high success rate and many of our so-called graduates end up returning and volunteering in our facility."

Nick said, "Great work! So, in a perfect world, you'd be able to offer safe and secure homes to the additional thousand children in the county, right? Your mission gap is a thousand?" He waited for an answer from Joan, who was wearing a grey pinstripe pantsuit with a crisp white button down shirt. Her dark skin and short, curly black hair gently blended with her outfit and projected warmth, while her bright white smile and the whites of her deep brown eyes both contrasted and merged with her outfit.

"In a perfect world, no children would need our services. What a shame that we don't live in a perfect world. In our imperfect world, our mission gap is a bit smaller. Some of the thousand have been well-placed in the well-functioning foster homes and some are nearing adulthood, while others get adopted, particularly those under five years of age. We estimate that there are three hundred children we could help if we had the means and the facilities. We consider ourselves a "best kept secret" and we're always working on ways to get the word out. There are many people in our county who'd be glad to help us out, if they knew we existed. We need better public relations and a strong social media campaign."

Nick looked at his mom, who was taking notes on her tablet. She said, "So, the five homes each provide shelter for sixteen children?"

"Yes, each home features eight bedrooms, double occupancy. We've considered triple occupancy, but we feel that a larger occupancy would make socialization more difficult for our already challenged children. When there are three, one is often left out."

"To shelter an additional three hundred, you'd need a hundred and fifty bedrooms of double occupancy. If each home provided ten bedrooms, an additional fifteen homes could satisfy those needs, right?"

"Ten bedrooms could be difficult. The homes would need to be redesigned and we'd have to add another staff member for each home," Joan said. She pulled out an income statement and a balance sheet, which documented all of the financials associated with running the foster home.

Catherine took the paperwork and placed it down in front of her on the table. "Let me take a moment to study the numbers. You can continue the conversation as I'll keep my ears tuned in."

Damien said, "Well, let me just say that we appreciate your interest in Collins. This place is so rewarding. I started here as a volunteer and made my way onto the board. I find giving and serving so much more rewarding than receiving and taking."

"Amen to that," Janet added.

Michael added, "We do the best that we can to ensure that our children make a positive difference in this world, and making a difference in their lives makes a difference in our lives. Whew. Lots of differences and here we're all working together."

Nick chuckled. He'd responded to each of them with a nod of approval as his mom continued with her review of the numbers.

She looked up. "These numbers seem reasonable and in line with my expectations of a facility of this type. I've been studying your organization for a short while and am interested in your mission. I love what you're doing for the children."

Joan added, "Children are our future and the future of our world is in their hands. Aside from providing them with a safe and secure environment, we try to do what we can here at Collins to guide their future paths by instilling Christian values and identifying and utilizing their callings and gifts. Our late founder Barbara was all about identifying their spiritual gifts and blessings to help them develop their futures."

"I applaud your work and the work of your founder, Barbara Collins," Catherine said. "I had the great privilege of listening to her when she served as the key note presenter at the Orange Bay Annual Women's Luncheon a couple of months ago." She looked at Nick and grabbed his hand. "Nick and I would like to provide some of the funding that you need for an expansion. What we can't fund, we'll raise. I have numerous connections in the region who would be happy to contribute to this excellent cause."

"Wow!" Janet exclaimed. "That's wonderful news."

The board members glanced around the table as they nodded their heads with wide smiles before looking back at Catherine and Nick. Joan offered a hearty "God bless you two and God bless the children! You've answered our prayers." She paused and said with a slight chuckle, "Perhaps Barbara is up there by his side cheering us on too."

"God inspired us to be here and we're so glad to have this opportunity," Nick said in a serious tone.

Catherine said, "Can we take this list of expenses and any architectural plans you've drawn up for the current homes or for additional homes to our people? We'd like to iron out some specifics and numbers in the next couple of days. And I'll need to make some calls to a few of my friends from the Chamber and Fox 'n Fields. Would you be willing to meet again on Thursday?"

"Absolutely."

"Excellent. We'll see you then," Catherine said. "It was a great pleasure meeting with all of you."

"Likewise," Joan replied.

"Yes, we're honored indeed," Damien said.

She and Nick got up, shook hands, and walked out. Nick could feel the excitement in the room as he exited and walked down the hallway with his mom to the front door. Feeling a mix of passion and joy, he smiled. His mom was smiling too, seeming truly happy.

"Giving is always superior to receiving," he said.

"Definitely."
Chapter 28

The Divine Intervention

A few weeks later on a late Tuesday afternoon, Nick was having a snack in the kitchen when the phone rang.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi, this is Joan Landers. Is this Nick?"

"Yes."

"Nick, I'm thrilled to report that they've broken ground on the new home sites and facilities this morning and they've completed the roads. The general contractor tells me that everything should be ready by December 15th, God willing. I'm so excited Nick! I'm now in the process of filling the vacancies with the kids who have the greatest needs in the county. Fifty kids. We'll be sure to keep siblings together to make the transitions easier. This is amazing. We'll certainly need to plan a celebration come December. It will be a Merry Christmas indeed!"

"That's excellent news, Joan. We're thrilled too. I'll let my mom know when she gets back from her doctor's appointment. There's nothing better than giving kids the lives they deserve."

"Nothing better, Nick. Nothing better. And many thanks to you and your mom. You've made a difference in the lives of so many children."

"Thank you Joan."

***

Just over an hour later, Catherine and nurse Fey arrived home from her appointment with the doctor. She was going to be given an update on the success of her first round of chemo based on the x rays and scans she'd just taken. Nick watched her closely as she slowly entered the kitchen and walked into the family room, followed by nurse Fey. He wanted to gauge her mood to figure out how he should respond.

"Nick, I have news."

"Yeah?" He looked at her but couldn't determine whether she was in a good mood or a bad mood. Maybe she was concealing something. That wasn't good. He watched her as she sauntered a little closer to him in the family room and stopped just in front of him. He got up from the couch and gave her a gentle hug. Nurse Fey remained in the kitchen, watching the two.

"What'd you find out Mom?"

"Well," she said solemnly, and then paused for Nick's reaction. Nick felt as if she were about to drop the death bomb. She continued, "I met with the doctor, who went over my x-rays and scans. Nick," she said in a slightly upbeat tone, "the cancer's still there, but it's receded by 50%. The good news is that I'm done with chemo treatments for six weeks and within a week or so, I should feel well enough to return to work, part-time. And this time, the doctor said there's a chance that I could beat this thing."

Nick took a huge breath and sighed, "That's good news, right Mom?"

"Yeah. A little good news never hurts. But keep praying for me."

"You know I will." He hugged her tightly and looked upward, saying a prayer in his thoughts for her recovery.

"Nick, I hate to say this but my ribs are still a little sore."

"Oh, sorry about that." He released her and backed up about a foot.

Nurse Fey said, "I'm praying for you too, Catherine."

"Well I have good news for you and Fey too. They broke ground on the first five home sites today. The roads are complete and they anticipate that everything will be done by December 15th."

"Excellent. That's just after your graduation. We'll have to plan two parties!"

"No Mom, I disagree. How about one celebration of the home sites with all of your friends and all of my friends, new and old, and of course you, Nurse Fey? Graduations happen every semester, but how often do you hear about a family who helped fifty kids at Christmas time by providing them all homes? We should throw a huge celebration with all of the staff and the kids in the foster home. I can already see the lights and the tables and the crowd and the Christmas tree and a gigantic Nativity scene, which would dwarf the Christmas tree. We'll place it smack dab in the center of the lawn in the middle of the home sites in the big play area. We can light it up with all sorts of bright colors: red, green, yellow, blue, purple, and more. And we'll play traditional Christmas songs and contemporary Christian music all night long. "Silent night," "Joy to the World," "Away in a Manger," and all of the good contemporary songs. Happy birthday Jesus!"

"Love it, Nick. And why not have the party double as a fundraiser for the children and more homes? I've been able to secure some funding already, but a fundraiser always helps to secure more. I'll call some of my connections with deep pockets."

"Great plan!"

"Agreed," Nurse Fey added.

"We're going to have a blessed life Nick, a life of giving."

"Amen to that," Nick said as he smiled at his mom and Nurse Fey.

"Yes, amen," Nurse Fey added.
Chapter 29

The Surprises

Wednesday, July 23rd, began in an ordinary way. Nick got out of bed, showered and dressed before heading into the kitchen for breakfast. He made himself a plate of eggs and sausage and downed a glass of orange juice before his mom came into the kitchen at 6:30. She entered the room with a bright smile.

"Top of the morning to you, Mom!"

"Top of the morning indeed. It's a little rainy outside, but I imagine it'll let up by the afternoon. I'm heading back to work today. Thrilled about that."

"Yeah, we'll probably head inside of the sports complex today for a little basketball. If it lets up and the fields dry, we'll get to play football. The kids like basketball too, so either option's cool."

Nick strolled over to the front door and headed outside to retrieve the newspaper, which was waiting for him at the end of the driveway. The morning was misty and the air thick and hot, which wasn't unusual in the Florida summer. Nick picked up the newspaper and pulled off its wet plastic wrapping while simultaneously skimming the headlines. The most prominent headline didn't get his attention, but an article just below it did: "Husband's Accidental Shooting by Wife Perhaps Not Accidental."

"Crap," he said when he saw the picture of Braedon Ramsey. "They leaked it anyway."

He folded the paper to conceal the headlines and headed back into the house.

"Gotta use the bathroom. Be right back," he shouted as he headed upstairs.

The article discussed the alleged accidental shooting by Tricia Ramsey, who said she was an active member of the Fellowship Church. She sung in the choir, taught Sunday school classes, and was an active volunteer there for years. Her husband, an independent press photographer and reporter, had had at least one affair with the CEO of Fox 'n Fields, Catherine O'Brien. Text messages indicated that the two had dated, confirmed by O'Brien by police investigators. O'Brien further indicated that she was unaware that Mr. Ramsey had a wife or children. He'd indicated to her that his wife had passed away of cancer a couple of years before they met. She'd broken off their short relationship soon after it started.

"Those cops are the worst," Nick thought. "They told her it wouldn't be leaked. Now Mom looks like an adulterer, though she didn't even know he had a wife."

He flipped the paper open to page 7 to read the continuation of the story. There he saw the picture of Tricia Ramsey and her two twin daughters in front of a Christmas tree. Braedon Ramsey wasn't pictured in that shot, which appeared to be professional.

"Cute girls. Pretty Mom."

The story ended with the comment that Tricia Ramsey was 5 1/2 months pregnant when the shooting occurred and that investigators were trying to determine whether the incident was accidental, provoked, or premeditated. They couldn't determine whether she had read the text messages or had knowledge of the affair. An investigation was underway.

Nick studied the picture of Tricia Ramsey and reflected on the story. She had indicated that she was an active member of the same church he attended, yet he didn't recall seeing her there in the choir. The choir captured much of his attention during the service since they generated much of the excitement in the church.

"Nope, don't recall seeing her in the church. Maybe she sings in a different service."

He studied her picture and then remembered something.

"Mom needs to see this."

***

A short while later, after his mom read the article, Nick said, "Look at her picture. Does she look familiar to you?"

He watched her as she studied the picture of Tricia Ramsey by the Christmas tree with her children and slowly shook her head.

"Mom, is she the same woman we saw on the boat with the governor last month?"

"Sure looks like it. I like to think that I never forget a face and I distinctly recall her face as she smiled at us that day. That's the same big smile. Now the mistress has a name: Tricia Ramsey. And she was visibly pregnant then, consistent with a pregnancy at four and a half months." She paused and appeared to be reflecting on the situation.

"Didn't you say that the governor's mistress had been pregnant before?

"Yes, I did."

"I wonder if those twins are his. Look at their hair. His same hair color. Braedon had dark hair and eyes, and those kids have reddish hair and light skin and eyes. Tricia has brown hair and a darker complexion than those kids..."

"Nick, I don't know what to do about this. I hardly want to out the married governor. He's a powerful man and I've been supporting him for the past few years. We've raised all kinds of money for his campaign and the election is only a few months away."

"I'm not sure what to do either. But what I do know is that I saw her with the governor and the last time I saw Braedon was at the church. He was there a couple of weeks ago and I saw him standing in a line waiting to shake the pastor's hand. I never saw her in the church, Mom, and she told the press that she sings in the choir. I'll bet."

"I'll need to think about this Nick. And we need to think of their children. Would they be better off without their mother, because she could be imprisoned? Where would they go? And what about her unborn child?"

"Maybe Governor Kinnaird needs to worry about that. He's probably freaking out right now. Dirt bag."

"I'm sure he is. Hopefully there are other witnesses aside from us who can report this to the police."

"What if no one does? Who wants to go up against a powerful governor with billions at his disposal? And Mom, think about it. This could cost him the election."

"True," she said as she shook her head.

"Do you still support his platform? His opponent would be better for the people. Michael Clark supports education and the environment and children's programs and welfare programs."

"They've always painted Clark to be a bleeding heart tree hugger. And welfare programs often discourage working. Those programs are bloated and in need of serious reform."

"Yeah...well which candidate do you think is most likely to work on reforming them while still working in the best interests of the people of Florida?"

"I don't know. I guess you're asking which is the lesser of two evils. Nick, I need to think things over. I'm still not sure what to do here."

"Okay, Mom. Well, I gotta get to work soon and I know you do too. Let's talk more tonight."

***

On his way home from the summer camp, Nick stopped at the grocery store and picked up a steak, some shrimp, pasta, and salad items so that he could surprise his mom with a nice dinner when she got home. He knew she'd be home around 7 p.m., so he had some time to make preparations.

He cleared the centerpiece from the dining room table and set out candles, along with their best china from the china cabinet, glasses, and silverware. Classical music played softly in the background as he marinated the shrimp in a light blend of dill and herbs and the steak in a garlicky, pepper seasoning. Everything was ready for the grill around 6:45, but he put the steaks on first, since they took longer to cook. Then he boiled and prepared the bowtie pasta with a touch of butter and parmesan cheese. The shrimp were added last. Finally, he tossed an arugula and spinach salad with raisins and pecans with a small spritz of Asian ginger dressing.

By the time his mom walked through the garage door at 7:15, everything was ready.

"Wow. Nick, you've outdone yourself," she said with a wide grin as she approached the table and put her briefcase down on the counter. "What's gotten into you? You've never cooked up a meal like this before for me."

"Well, I thought we should celebrate your first day back at work. I love you Mom."

"I love you too. Thank you. This all smells delicious." She sat down at the table next to him and folded her napkin on her lap.

"Nick, I think we need to say grace.

"I agree."

"Thank you Lord for everything you've blessed us with in our lives and for all of the people and the opportunities around us. Please help us to avoid wayward paths and to fulfill our missions in your name as we strive to grow closer to you and to walk with you. Thank you for this meal, Lord, and for my son, for whom I'm forever grateful. Amen."

"Amen to that."

"Nick, I was thinking of ways to deal with the governor's mistress issue on my drive home when a line popped into my head."

"Yeah. What was it?"

"And the truth will set you free."

"That simplifies things. So we can report how we saw her on the boat to the police?"

"Yes, Nick. The police can carry the ball forward, but at least they'll have more to work with. It wouldn't be fair to Braedon or those twins if the police operated with only partial information. Self-defense, murder after provocation, and premeditated murder are very different types of crimes with very different pardons or punishments. Hopefully they'll get to the bottom of things."

"And we'll keep our eyes on the case for the children's sake to ensure that they find a good home if their mother does go to prison. If she did plan the murder, it's the least I can do for Braedon who can't defend himself now or be a dad to those kids."

"That makes a lot of sense Mom. When do you want to report this?"

"Let's head over to the police station after dinner."

"Okay."
Chapter 30

Changes at Fox 'n Fields

To help his mom in her struggles with cancer, Nick decided not to go back to State to complete his final coursework in the classroom that fall. He'd take his final classes on-line.

That offered him the benefits of being able to oversee the development project at the Collins' Foster Home _and_ being able to spend more quality time with his friends and those he'd loved: his mom, Piper, and Tanner. The cancer made him realize just how short life was and that he needed to embrace each moment of his life fully, appreciating those around him. He sat on a couch in the family room and reflected on his recent experiences.

The doorbell rang. Nick got up to answer it, following his barking dog Chipper to the door.

"Hi," an older grey-haired man with a bushy mustache said. "Is your mother home?"

"Yeah, just a minute." Nick went into his mom's office to get her.

"Mom, someone's here for you."

Catherine got up and walked to the front door, while Nick returned to the couch.

A few minutes later, Nick watched his mom and the man walk into the kitchen. She pulled up a bar chair along the kitchen island and invited him to sit down. Nick wondered whether he should give them privacy. Maybe he'd just stay quiet.

"Nick, this is Leo Lazenby. He's our executive vice president and chief financial officer."

"Hi," Leo said. "You must be Catherine's pride and joy. She speaks highly of you."

"Thanks!" Nick said. He decided to stay put on the couch. It didn't appear that they needed him to leave.

After pouring two glasses of iced tea, his mom said, "I've come to the realization that as the CEO of our organization, my responsibility is to my employees. A recent study by United Way found that almost half of all Floridians can barely make ends meet. They can't afford basic expenses for food, travel, and housing, let alone expenses associated with any vacations. A significant number of our own employees are facing these struggles. So as I troll around in my Ferrari or on my yacht, my employees are scrimping on the amount of mayonnaise that they can add to their bologna sandwiches. Is that fair? Therefore, I'm going to announce my voluntary pay cut to the board in our meeting tomorrow morning. I'll be taking a 95% pay cut."

"Oh Catherine. Please. Save me from your bleeding heart. You and I have earned our positions and our pay, through our hard work, education, and commitment to this organization." Leo contorted his face in such a manner that it was barely recognizable. His nose crumpled with his mustache buckled under it, while his narrow dark eyes squinted.

"Leo, I'm not asking you to take a similar pay cut. I'm not asking any on the board to do that. Instead, I'm sharing with you my plans as the person who sets an example for those in her organization. Everyone else can make his or her own decisions."

"Catherine. I think you're making a mistake," Leo stammered. "You'll be paid less than all of the other board members. You haven't been paid that little in years. How will you adjust to the new pay? You've been making at least a million bucks for the past five years. And then we gave you the significant pay increase that you're now enjoying. From the looks of this house, you need every penny you make. I'm sure that the tax bill alone is a couple of hundred thousand a year. That would be about a third of your new salary."

"Well, I'm planning on selling this house, so the tax bill won't be an issue. Leo, consider this. Right now, excluding me, the average pay for the next five highest paid senior leaders in our organization for your salary, incentives, stock options, and bonuses is $9.2 million annually. Tan Nguyen, who works as an assistant plant manager in the next building is making $35,000 per year. Tan supports his wife and two kids on that income, which he supplements by delivering newspapers at 3 a.m. in the morning. He gets to work each morning by 7 p.m. and usually leaves just before 7 p.m. He gets home, catches a bit of shut eye, and then gets up to deliver papers for an extra $1,500 per month. Tan isn't alone. Thousands of our employees are living similarly. Is that any way to live?"

"No, but we're not Tan, Catherine, or those other employees. Tan probably doesn't have a college education or an MBA degree."

"Tan has a college education, just not the graduate degree."

"Still, Catherine. We've all put in our time. He can work his way up as many of us did."

"Leo, I did the calculations before coming here today. You are currently being paid two hundred and fifty times what Tan is being paid."

"So. I work harder than Tan."

"Two hundred and fifty times harder, Leo?"

"Okay, good point, Catherine. All I'm asking is that you don't get the board to reduce our salaries involuntarily. We should have a say in this."

"Agreed Leo. That wasn't my plan. Here's my plan. Starting on September 1st, Fox 'n Fields will implement a new pay for performance plan, which includes several components: profit sharing for all, a productivity improvement plan for those in our manufacturing facilities, and individual incentive programs for those selling merchandise in the individual stores. Workers will now share in the profits, as long as there are profits and not losses, so each will have some 'skin in the game.' Our employees in manufacturing will engage in a new productivity improvement plan in which they will share the savings associated with determining and implementing ways to cut materials, labor, and overhead costs. Our sales and merchandising employees in the retail stores will engage in individual incentive plans, specific goal setting, competitions, and employee recognition programs. By my estimates and benchmarks of other organizations with similar programs, we are likely to generate a seven to nine percent increase in profits for the productivity improvement plans alone. Finally, I'm going to charge a couple of teams with investigating the possibility of a Fox 'n Fields line of perfume, along with a potential Fox 'n Fields credit card. Profit margins on perfumes can be as high as 95%, while in-store credit cards can be very lucrative. These plans together should result in a fifteen to twenty percent increase in profits, which account for increased employee morale, improved customer satisfaction, and increased sales. The increases in profits will offset increases in pay due to profit and productivity sharing and bonuses. I estimate that these plans will raise the average pay for our workers to at least $50,000 annually, if not more. Those who work hard will likely earn much more."

Nick liked what he heard, so he looked up at Leo to check his expression, which now appeared stagnant, yet his mustache was still strangely bunched up under his nose.

"The board will probably be receptive to your plan. Just don't push them on the salary issues. No one other than you will want to take a pay cut. What happened to you? Did you get hit on the head in that car accident?"

"I guess you could say that I had an epiphany."

"Fair enough. I'll support your plan in our meeting tomorrow."

***

Nick was happy to hear that the strategic plan was accepted by the majority of those in senior leadership the following day. Catherine was the only one to take a pay cut, but the good will from the pay cut she took spread throughout lower levels of the organization.

Employees, stockholders, and the media hailed the program as "forward-thinking," "incentivizing," and "brilliant." Headlines referred to Catherine O'Brien as the 'people's CEO' and as 'an example for all to follow.' They wrote stories describing her as the CEO with a heart and a golden touch. She was compared to other CEOs who'd made similar moves in their organizations, including the CEO of an electric company, the founders of an ice cream manufacturing firm, the CEO of an on-line shoe retailer, and the founder of an investment conglomerate. A ripple effect soon followed and numerous CEOs of Fortune 500 organizations around the United States took similar steps.

Catherine O'Brien took it one step further and joined the country's richest CEOs in their pledge to give vast sums of their fortunes back to charitable organizations. Catherine's organization of choice was the Collins' Foster Home.
Chapter 31

Wonder What the Poor People Are Doing?

In early September, Nick and his mom both closed on their mansion and moved into new home. Their new house had four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a two-car garage and was located in downtown Orange Bay, just minutes from the Fox 'n Fields office. It was in an ideal location and at a reasonable price, given real estate prices in the area and trends. Nick felt a lot better about his new home than he did about the mansion. It wasn't lavish, just simple elegance, and it represented living within one's means in more modest ways.

Chipper seemed happy in the new home too, probably even happier than she'd been in the mansion; it featured a fenced-in backyard where she could roam freely. And it didn't have a pool, which she probably liked. She couldn't swim very well and had fallen into the pool at the mansion a couple of times before being saved by Nick's mom. Her afternoons now consisted of a series of running patterns designed to protect the family from the local squirrels and lizards.

***

Nick was enrolled in three on-line courses at State, which he needed to successfully complete that semester to graduate in December. He worked about as hard in those courses as he would have worked while in the classroom, yet the distractions of football and women at State weren't present, so his grades were higher than usual.

In mid-September, Nick accepted an internship at Fox 'n Fields in its finance department. He was added to the team investigating the income potential associated with a new Fox 'n Fields credit card, which was one of his mom's new strategies.

Though he said he didn't want to ride his mom's coattails, the opportunity to investigate and possibly implement a portion of his mom's strategic plan was too good to pass up. Plus the job was ideal, given his skill set and academic knowledge, and he considered it to be a stepping stone to higher level positions in the organization.

He'd use the skills and attitudes that his mother had always instilled in him to succeed. Her words rang like bells as reminders in his mind, "work hard, work smart, and be conscientious and efficient. Take on the extra tasks that no one wants with enthusiasm and never whine, complain, or gossip. Show up early and stay late and dress for the role you want. Give more than you take and always be humble, thankful and appreciative. And most importantly, never forget that you're expendable; there are always at least ten people banging on the door for your job." Nick wanted to work his way to the top, so he planned to wear a suit or at minimum a shirt and tie each day on the job.

He was also overseeing the construction and development of the new homes on the Collins' Foster Home campus during this time and thinking of way to get the word out about the home. Being a 'best kept secret' wouldn't help when attempting to raise funds for its causes.

That's when Piper stepped in. She'd been volunteering at the home for years by counseling and assisting with the children. Nick convinced her to use her skills in social media to help to promote the home. By mid-October, Piper had secured over three thousand followers and fans in two short months on each of three social media accounts by generating a significant buzz about the kids, their promising futures, and the generosity of the community.

Piper also worked with Nick to plan and promote the upcoming celebration/fundraiser at the home, to be held on Friday, December 19th. In early September, he and Piper sent out the first round of 'save the date' letters for the celebration/fundraiser to all of his friends, his mom's friends, a number of his mom's employees and board members, members of society, philanthropy groups, individuals in the area who'd been recognized for their giving, and all of the groups with which the foster home was affiliated. In mid-October, they sent out formal invitations to all of the same parties. He also sent an invitation to Michael Clark, along with his wife and family. Michael Clark would be challenging Scott Kinnaird in the governor's race in early November. To his delight, over four hundred people confirmed their attendance at the celebration, including the gubernatorial candidate and his family.

***

During the last week of October, Nick's mom caught him in the kitchen one morning before work. "How about inviting some friends over this weekend for a little celebration? .We have so much to celebrate, most notably your upcoming graduation from State and the new homes under construction at the Collins' Foster Home."

"And Halloween."

"Oh yeah, Friday will be Halloween. I never really liked that holiday."

"Me neither. But I like costume parties. You know, I think I will have a party, Mom. I haven't seen Tanner and Bob in a while. I'll give them a call. Nick picked up his cell phone and walked into his room. After he confirmed that Piper could make it, he called his friends.

"Tanner, I'm having a costume party. Can you and Marlis come by Friday night? You can wear costumes if you want."

"Sure dude. Sounds good. We'll see you then."

Nick then dialed Bob. "Hey Bob. Having a small costume gig on Friday night. Wanna come by? Costumes are optional."

"Are clothes optional too?"

"No."

"Bummer. Flypaper threw a clothing optional party last month. It was a total blast."

"I'm sure. Flypaper lives alone. I don't think my mom would appreciate a bunch of naked people running around her house."

"Fair enough. I'll be there. 'Bout time you threw a gig. I've been waiting."

"Oh, Bob, we moved. We're in downtown Orange Bay. Smaller house, much smaller."

"What! You sold the mansion? Dude. Why? You should've thrown a party before you left. I'm disappointed in you dude. That mansion was a chick magnet."

"Well, this house isn't a bad replacement. It's in downtown Orange Bay, right by the shops and restaurants."

"Pool?"

"Nope, but I'll pick one up just for you before you get here."

"Pick one up?"

"Yeah, they're selling inflatable pools at Go-Mart. I'll pick an inflatable up with a couple of rafts."

"Okay, you got me. That sounds cool."

***

That Friday, Piper came over early and helped Nick get ready for the party. They hung a few party decorations, balloons, and orange Halloween lights around the outside of the house, which supplemented the pumpkins and fall decorations already adorning the front porch.

Nick filled a large cooler with ice and refreshments and poured a variety of chips and dip into some party bowls. Piper sorted carrots, zucchini, and celery on a plate, centered by some veggie dip. Submarine sandwiches, chicken wings, and hot dogs would further provide good nourishment for their friends.

He put on a cowboy hat and mask hat and offered the same to Piper.

"Thanks, now we're matching," she said as she sat down on the couch and put her hat and mask on. "Everything looks good. They should be here in a few minutes."

"Yup." Nick sat down next to her and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for helping me get things ready."

"You're welcome."

Bob was first to show up.

"Hey there," he said as he strolled in wearing a worn pair of jeans, cowboy boots and an old t-shirt. "Nice place."

"Thanks. What are you dressed as?"

"A rodeo star."

"That's cool. The cooler is out back."

"Perfect," he said as he moseyed out of the back doors and onto the patio.

Tanner and Marlis showed up next, followed by a handful of other friends. A few wore costumes, but Tanner and Marlis chose to dress as themselves.

"Grab a drink and make yourselves at home," Nick said as he guided each into the house, "the cooler is on the patio deck and the food is in the kitchen." He walked into the kitchen and grabbed himself a paper plate and filled it up with chips and wings.

The country music was rocking in the background as everyone milled about and made conversations with one another.

"Great party, Nick. This was a good idea," Piper said as she walked into the kitchen and joined him, filling a plate with some veggies and a chicken wing.

Nick licked his fingers and said, "You helped, sweetheart. It wouldn't be the same if you weren't here. You've been the best girlfriend a guy could have. I love you, Piper."

"I love you too, Nick."

He put his arms around her and kissed her in the middle of the kitchen.

"Get a room," Bob shouted.

Nick backed off and laughed. "Nice one, Bob."

"Hey, where's that pool?"

"Out back. I filled it up just for you."

Nick turned his attention back to Piper. She looked perfect, as always. She was wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans, a black belt and black high heels, which was casual yet feminine. He planned to marry that girl one day. "Follow me," he said as he took her hand and led her to the couch, where they both sat down next to one another. "You are just so easy and comfortable to be around."

"And so are you."

"Hey," Bob called out from the back yard, "Nick."

Nick got up and walked out onto the patio to find Bob in the inflatable pool, floating on a raft, which was just slightly smaller than the pool itself. He was fully dressed in his jeans, shirt, and boots.

"Hey Nick, I got a question." Bob leaned back on his raft and put one hand behind his head with the other gripping a can of beer.

"Yeah?"

He took a long swig before saying, "Wondering what the poor people are doing right now."

"They're probably sitting in a pool just like that one."

"You got that right. Big underground pools are so overrated."

"Hey, how about coming to the Collins' Foster Home fundraiser party in December? We're building homes to house another fifty kids and celebrating construction completion then."

"Yeah, that sounds cool Nick. Thanks. I like kids. Hope to have a couple one day."

"Me too."

Nick was about to turn around and head back in the house when Bob said, "Hey man, where's your beer?"

"In the house, next to Piper."

"Oh, I got it. You're hoping she'll slip some drugs in your drink so she can take advantage of you."

"Yeah, right."

Bob lowered his voice. "You've tagged her, haven't you?"

"I'm a gentleman, Bob."

"Gentleman? I don't see any gentlemen around here. I was talking to you, Nick. If you invited gentlemen to this party, you'd best ask them to leave. My belly's rumbling from all of the beans I had at lunch."

"Man, you're gross."

"Only on the weekends, Nick. I save my best jokes for you." Bob chuckled as he downed the rest of the beer in his hand and grabbed the one he'd placed by the end of the inflatable pool.

"Keep those jokes coming and you won't get any of the ladies to join you in the pool," Nick said with a laugh.

"Nick, I hate to break it to you, but this pool isn't for socializing. It's for show. I'm just getting warmed up here for the ladies while they enjoy their beers. I'll be out to make my moves when they're ready for my kind of sophisticated humor."

Nick laughed before heading back inside and sitting down next to Piper. The beer he'd left there was more of a prop than anything else. It had been there all night, unopened, and was now warm.

***

The following Monday morning, Nick turned on the television and watched a reporter as she stood in front of the county courthouse and announced, "The jury has come to a decision in the Ramsey case, which we'll report to you right after the break."

"Mom, you gotta hear this," Nick shouted up the stairway. "The Ramsey case. They're going to announce the verdict."

She walked down the stairs and entered the family room as the reporter continued. Nick could see that she was still fighting the cancer inside of her with every bit of energy she had. Three rounds of chemo hadn't cured it yet, but he had hope.

"After much deliberation, the jury has found Tricia Ramsey guilty of first degree murder for the premeditated murder of her husband, Braedon Ramsey. She is being held without bail as she waits for her sentence, which the judge will decide in three weeks."

"During the trial, it came out that Mrs. Ramsey had been having an affair with Governor Scott Kinnaird and was the mother of two of his children, young twin girls, currently staying with relatives. She'd claimed to be an active member of the Fellowship Church, yet no one at the church confirmed her presence in any of the activities in which she'd claimed to be active, though a few recalled her dropping her girls off at Sunday school. She was also pregnant and due to deliver in late November. Custody of the children was to be decided at a later date. The governor couldn't be reached for comment."

"Just crazy, huh Mom. Poor kids. Hopefully things will work out for them. I wonder if he'll lose the election next month."

"Yeah, the timing couldn't be worse for Kinnaird. Michael Clark must be celebrating." She paused and said, "We'll have to follow up on the girls. Probably owe that to Braedon. Maybe I judged him more harshly than I should have."
Chapter 32

The Celebration

Nick was thrilled when he found out that the homes had been completed, two weeks ahead of the expected date of completion, and the new foster children were able to move into their new homes on December 1st. The staff, volunteers, and others ready to serve the new children had been organized early, so the earlier date worked well for everyone involved.

By December 19th, the date of the celebration/fundraiser, the children had all been moved into their new homes. They'd be the center of attention at the party that night. Nick thought of the line he'd read on the picture in the conference room a couple of months before about the way that Jesus loved the children.

Nick, Tanner, Marlis, Piper, Bob and sixteen of the older foster children spent the day decorating the grounds with a life-sized manger, a Christmas tree, and lights and decorations. Parker and Aiden, the boys Nick knew from the summer camp, were among the children. They worked hard to help set up the tables and chairs, without bickering once with one another. That was an achievement for those two, who were like brothers.

Having the party outside was ideal, given the size of the crowd and the open space available and the weather. The weather couldn't be more perfect; cool and sunny without a cloud in sight.

The set-up ran smoothly. After the rental company built a center stage and dropped off dozens of large round and rectangular tables and chairs, Nick and the group set them up and dressed them with heavy white table cloths. They placed flower bouquets in the centers of each of the tables that had been donated by one of the board members. The plates, silverware, and pale blue napkins were next.

The Christian band arrived about an hour before the party began and set up their drums, guitars, and sound equipment on the stage. They'd offered to play free of charge for the event, which Nick was thrilled about. They were one of his favorite bands.

Nick's mom arrived late in the afternoon. She walked up to Nick in a festive, yet elegant, ocean blue dress. "This looks great. You and your friends and the kids have done a wonderful job of getting things ready."

"Thanks Mom. It's really come together well. People should start getting here in about an hour. Joan checked in and she and the other board members plan to get here a half hour early."

"Great. Well, the weather couldn't be better and I love the manger. I've never seen one so large. How about the kids? Where will they be sitting?"

"A few of the older ones will be seated at the tables with the adults, and the rest will be with the staff and care workers at the tables over there." Nick pointed to the right of the round tables to twenty-five rectangular tables, which had been neatly organized in rows of five.

"Good work. Well, I'm excited. I'm going to walk over to the main facility and see if I can't catch a board member. I'll be back in a few."

"Okay, Mom."

A van approached and Nick noticed that Joan was behind the wheel. She pulled into the parking lot, which was adjacent to the party area, and hopped out before opening the door behind her. Nick could see a good number of colorful floral arrangements.

"Hey there. I thought I'd put these around the stage where the band will be playing. Also, thought I'd set up any extras along the walkway."

"Great plan. Thanks Joan."

"No, thank you, Nick! This all looks excellent. I'm looking forward to tonight.

Several vans then entered the campus and pulled up alongside Joan's van in the parking lot. Six men, wearing white catering outfits, exited the vans and walked up to Nick.

"Where do you want us to set up?"

Nick pointed to an area to the left of the tables, where they'd arranged a few rectangular tables for the food. Four bars serving drinks would be in all corners of the grounds.

"Okay, will do," the head caterer said as they returned to the vans to collect their equipment and the food and drinks.

Bob walked up to Nick, "Hey man, thanks for inviting me. This is really great."

"Thanks, Bob."

Nick walked over to Parker and Aiden, who were unfolding a rectangular table. "Great job guys. We really appreciate your help."

"Thanks Coach Nick. We appreciate your help too," Aiden answered. "You've made a big difference here."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be around to see you guys get out of this place one day and get yourselves into a good college football program."

"Thanks, Coach!" Aiden said.

"That means a lot to us Coach," Parker added.

***

At 6:10 p.m., the sun set, so Nick, Tanner, Piper, and Bob turned on the many lights that were adorning the grounds. With all of the lights, the night appeared as the day. Christmas music played over the speakers, which would be used to fill the time between the band's songs.

The first guests arrived at 6:30 p.m. and by 7:00 p.m., the party was bursting at the seams with guests and foster children. The staff had dressed the children in fancy Christmas outfits, which had been donated by the board in recognition of the party.

"They look adorable, Nick, "Piper said, "I love the little girls' bouncy polka-dotted skirts and red tops. And the teens' outfits, leggings and oversized button-down blouses, look like something I'd wear. Very nice. Oh, and the boys look good too. Can't complain about sporty beige pants and solid button-downs."

"Yeah, they're looking good."

Nick then heard a champagne glass clank and spotted Joan on the stage with the microphone in her hand. "Hello. My name is Joan Landers and I'm the interim chairman of the board of the Collins' Foster Home."

The crowd clapped and turned their attention to Joan.

"I just want to be the first to welcome all of you to this blessed event in which we will be celebrating our Lord and Savior's birthday and celebrating the opening of five new homes on our campus. The homes are now occupied by fifty children, including many sibling groups, from our county. They're staffed with loving and caring full-time and part-time employees and volunteers who attend to their security needs and any issues that arise. We are truly blessed to be able to open our homes and our hearts to these special children."

The crowd clapped again.

"And we owe all of this to Catherine and Nick O'Brien. They came to us last summer and listened to our needs and our dreams. Without blinking an eye, they agreed to fulfill our dreams by building ten additional homes on our campus. Without blinking an eye, they opened their wallets and donated generously to this worthy cause. Thank you, Catherine and Nick O'Brien."

The crowd clapped loudly as they turned to face Nick and his mom. He blushed as he felt the eyes of over five hundred people on him. He smiled and looked at his mom, intentionally attempting to shift the attention to her. She's the one who donated the money.

"Catherine and Nick, would you please come to the stage and say a few words?"

"Didn't prepare anything," Nick thought. "Hopefully Mom has something to say."

He followed his mom to the stage and helped her climb up its stairs.

"Thank you, Joan," his mom said as she took the microphone. "I'd like to share a story with all of you. It's a story of a CEO who for many years cared about her son, her company, her ambitions, and her possessions. That was it. She lived in a mansion and had a yacht and drove a Ferrari. She snubbed her nose at anyone who didn't share her same ambitions or work ethic. She threw around strong opinions and judgments of those who'd made different choices in their lives, placing all blame on them for any of their poor choices. That CEO was me.

My son was my saving grace. He cared about others, whether the homeless man we found sitting outside of the Beachfront Grill, the people he saw fishing in the ocean for their dinners as we drove by in our Ferrari, the kids he bonded with while coaching at the summer camp, or for the thousands of people living in Florida who'd suffer if changes weren't made to our education, environment, or welfare programs." She paused as she looked over to Governor Clark and his family and said, "It's a blessing that you were elected, Governor Clark, since you have a heart for the people. I wish I'd thrown a fundraiser for you, but apparently one wasn't needed."

The crowd laughed and clapped.

"Well, God wasn't appreciative of the life I was living, so he thought he'd throw me a curve ball. On Friday, June 13th, I was diagnosed with stage four cancer and told to get my life together because I only had a few months to live. But I was still stubborn and judgmental and self-righteous. My son told me that if I died, he'd donate most of his inheritance to the church, so I balked, because that's what you do when you're married to your possessions. Apparently I needed more help seeing the light."

"Two weeks later, my nurse and I were on the way to a chemo appointment when we were hit by a car heading the wrong way down the highway. I found myself in a coma on the hospital bed. When I became conscious, I could hear my son and his friend Tanner desperately reading the Bible to me, hoping to share the good word of Jesus Christ. I finally listened. I'd denied my Savior before and had doubted that he was anything more than a myth. My son and his friend proved me wrong using words from both the Old and New Testaments."

"Soon I found myself in the warmth of a very bright light and I felt a love unlike any other love that I'd ever felt in my life; it was all-encompassing, forgiving, and compassionate. Jesus Christ. My life flashed before me and I had the epiphany that God wanted me to have."

"Not too long later, the doctor announced that my cancer was getting better and that there was a possibility I could pull through this. That's why I'm here. I want to share everything I have with all of you. Thank you, all of you, for giving me this opportunity. And most especially, thank you Nick. If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened." She turned and hugged Nick, whose eyes were streaming tears. He hated crying in front of a crowd, but this time he couldn't control himself. He wiped his eyes and whispered into his mom's ear, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here."

The crowd clapped wildly as both stepped off of the stage. Nick scanned the crowd to find his friends. He first sighted Bob, who was sitting next to a pretty blonde girl. Bob spotted him and gave him a thumbs up and a toothy grin. Then he saw Piper, Tanner, and Marlis, who were seated at the next table over. The empty chair next to Piper was calling his name.

"I'm going to head over to my friends' table."

"I'm going to go sit next to Joan," his mom said.

Nick strolled over to the table with his friends and sat down next to Piper.

"Thanks for all of your help today," he said with tears still welling in his eyes.

"I can't imagine any place else that I'd rather be," she said.

The band began to play a song that everyone knew: "Joy to the World, the Lord is come, Let earth receive her King..."

***

Throughout the night, under the lights, and to the tune of an assortment of Christmas songs, people walked over to the Christmas tree carrying gifts for the children. They donated scooters, bikes, games, books, toys, clothing, and money to the children and the home. By the end of the night, the tree was surrounded by hundreds of gifts, which were piled high and far. Across from the tree, a donation table held a large stack of envelopes, carrying the generous donations of the donors at the celebration. People's donations far exceeded the expectations of Catherine, Nick, and the Board. They were overjoyed about everyone's generosity and would soon plan the construction of more homes.

***

Six days later, on Christmas morning, the foster children awoke to find gifts waiting for them around a Christmas tree, which the caretakers had set up in each of the homes. Joan reported to Catherine and Nick that the children were thrilled when they opened their gifts. That day many celebrated better Christmases than they'd ever had. Nick was pleased that they were thrilled, but the thrill he felt far exceeded anything they could have been feeling. Giving is always superior to receiving.
_About the Author:_

S.J. Thomason lives with her two rambunctious, yet adorable sons, handsome hubby, and chief security officer/pooch, her schnauzer-mix dog. She works as a college professor, teaching business management courses in a medium-sized comprehensive university. That helps to pay the mortgage. In her spare time, she publishes academic articles on human resource selection, assessment, and performance, yet derives her greatest sense of satisfaction when writing on Christian themes.

She's spent the past few decades attempting to reconcile the logic and rationality of nature with the unexplained force of love within. World religions address the latter, yet none so perfectly and comprehensively as Christianity. By diving into the academic, literary, and church communities, she's found many answers to the complicated questions of life, strengthening her commitment and dedication to Christ. She can be reached via email at alwayslearning1225@gmail.com or on Twitter @sjthomason1225.
_A Closing Thought_

_I'm riding down the road, with Jesus at the wheel._

_He lightens up my load, through Him my pain is healed._

_Lord, bless me on our way; that I use your gifts well._

_Help me not to stray, with You I yearn to dwell._

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