Chapter Nine

Wednesday evening, Feb. 24, 2010

At first it looked like she wouldn’t show up.

Great. He had already had a hectic workday and it was a miracle he’d gotten off in time. He did not appreciate being stuck on the freeway just so that she would flake out on him.

Even Carla looked a little frustrated, until they both heard the door open from upstairs.

“She’s coming,” Carla said.

This time Stella wore her dark hair in a ponytail, and she wore an oversized grey sweatshirt with black skinny jeans.

“I’m here,” she sighed. “Do we have to stay here?”

From what David could tell, Carla didn’t like her daughter’s tone. But she masked it with a smile.

“Well, there’s a Starbucks down the street �" “

“There’s a Starbucks just about everywhere,” Stella cut in sharply.

Carla sighed slightly, touching Stella’s shoulder. “Then go to the one on Almaden and Blossom Hill. I need to do some work anyway. I’m planning an open house.”

Stella looked at her mother and lowered her head slowly. Carla stroked Stella’s hair.

“I’m feeling a little latte anyway,” David shrugged. “Come on.”

Stella looked at her mother again, as if she wanted to say something. Then she walked toward the front door and David followed her.

Minutes later David and Stella had purchased their coffees at the Starbucks, and now they sat down in the corner of the café. Despite the murmurs and music overhead, they could still hear each other, although David offered to sit outside.

“It’s February,” Stella told him, observing the light sports jacket over his white work shirt and slacks.

“It’ll be March in a few days,” he replied. “Spring will come soon, and I get hot easily. How are you doing?”

“I'm fine,” she said.

“Did you drink today?”

“No, drunks can take breaks, too, you know.”

OK, maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but could you cool it with the attitude? David sighed. OK, try again. He reached down into his laptop bag, pulled out Finding Faith and handed it to Stella.

“I wanted to give it to you.”

She took the book and stared at the picture of David on the cover. “Why?” she asked, not looking up.

“I thought it could help you.”

Stella looked at him sternly and flung the book down. It hit the table next to his coffee, and some droplets spilled onto the table.

“Hey!” David hissed, gritting his teeth and blotting the coffee with his napkin. He did not need a scene right now.

“Mr. Motivational Speaker big shot,” she laughed sarcastically. “You’re gonna give me a book to cure me?”

“Stella, I just thought maybe if you read �"“

“I’m not interested in reading some stupid self-help book written by someone I don't even know about, who thinks he can just quick-fix me, like he’s all that!” She waved a pointed finger as she spoke. Several heads turned and David looked down, hoping no one recognized him.

Maybe giving her that book wasn’t such a good idea after all.

You think? Giving her that was downright obnoxious.

“I’d like to go now, Mr. Know-it-all,” she declared, getting up.

“Wait…” he began and held out his hand. “Wait!” Two people at his left turned in his direction. So much for avoiding a scene. David lowered his voice. “Look, can we start over?”

She stared at him before sitting back down. Thank goodness.

He sat back now. “OK, maybe you can just talk about what’s on your mind.”

“I have nothing on my mind,” she replied.

“At all?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Just school.”

“You’re thinking of going back?” he asked.

“I’d like to.”

“Did you like going to University of Sacramento?”

“She managed a small smile. “I really liked school.”

Now David smiled. “What was your major?”

Her smile grew and her eyes sparkled. “Psychology.”

“Really?” he leaned in.

“Yes, really,” the smile vanished and she eyed him coldly. “Is that a problem? Oh yeah, Christianity and psychology don’t go together.”

David rolled his eyes. Oh brother. “Don’t be stupid. You know they’re fine together.” He stared at her. “You’ve got a bad attitude.”

Stella fell silent.

“Why do you act that way?” he demanded.

She turned away from him, as if embarrassed, but then she returned his gaze. “Why do you think you can help me?”

Good question. I’m only doing this cause Mark wants me to.

“Why do you think you can help me?” she repeated.

“I thought…” he used Mark’s reasoning. “…we could relate.”

“Relate to what?” she asked.

“Well…we’d …” he paused. It dawned on him that she didn’t know who he was. So Carla and Max hadn’t told her? Maybe they wanted her to find out for herself. Great. He could hear Mark telling him to open up about it to help her. Did he have to? And didn’t she want to avoid talking about the shooting anyway?

“Well?”

He couldn’t answer now.

“Oh, let me guess,” she sat back. “Let’s get someone from the church to tell me all these wonderful things about God, and how God allows us to go through things because He wants what’s best for us or that He ‘works all things together for good for those who love Him’. Throw some Christian verses at me and hope that I’ll suddenly become the good young woman who raises her hands to God.” She chuckled bitterly. “Let us praise God allowing you to go through a shooting where your best friend died and you can still feel the gun against your head. Praise glory. Hallelujah.”

David looked at the floor, a knot in this throat. Nick had a similar reaction, telling David God was dead to him in 2009. Now looked up at Stella with sad eyes.

This wasn’t worth it.

“Let’s just go,” he told her solemnly.

“Why? Did I hit a nerve?” she asked.

He rubbed his forehead and laughed sarcastically. “No it's just....you sound like my brother,” he blurted out.

Stella sat up now and sipped on her coffee. “Your brother?”

He looked at her.

“He doesn't buy this stuff either, huh?” she asked.

“He...” David shook his head and rubbed his forehead. “He used to love God and life.”

“Used to?” she leaned forward, her face showing concern now. “What happened?”

He groaned inside. Did she have to ask that?

“What happened?”

No answer.

Stella looked at him now. Her ornery look returned. “Are you trying to get me right with God because you can’t convert your brother?”

This perked him up.

“Stella, I wanted to talk with you. I’m not here to give you some Christian lingo,” he ran his hand through his hair and continued. “Okay, honestly, maybe I was…but that’s not what you need right now.”

She stared at him with a look of contemplation while she traced her finger around the top of her latte cup.

Now what could he offer? All his motivational tactics weren’t working.

He hated feeling helpless.

“Can I at least offer you my friendship?” he asked finally. “Doesn’t hurt to have one.”

She turned to look out the window toward the evening sky. . “I had one. I had a good friend.” A tear crept out of her eye and slid down her cheek. When he saw it, it cut him, and he reached out to touch her hand. As he did, he knocked over her coffee, spilling it into her lap. She jumped up.

“Ugh! What are you doing?!” she snapped. Patrons stared.

He jumped to his feet, grabbing for a nearby napkin. “Hey! I’m sorry.”

She quickly wiped the coffee off her dark-blue skinny jeans and looked up to say something when her eyes fell on someone at the next table and she went mute.

“Stella?” David prompted.

She didn’t hear him, but stepped up closer to a slender, college-aged, black male in a polo shirt. He sat with his back to her as he chatted with another black guy.

“Tracy?” She called out.

The man turned, revealing a baby-face with glasses.

“Oh,“ she muttered. “I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“No problem,” he assured, turning back to his friend.

She looked at him and then at David before rushing out of the Starbucks.

David blinked, surprised.

Go after her.

He obeyed the urge. Gathering his book and laptop case, he ordered another coffee for her and finished his own before walking out of the Starbucks himself. He found her sitting outside the building, her back against the wall and her knees to her chest. She watched Costco shoppers pull carts full of bulk foods to their cars.

“Hey,” he began tentatively. He held out the new coffee. “I got you another one.”

She looked up at him, her face wet with tears.

“You want it?”

She reached out and took it. “Thanks.”

“Stella �"“

“What is with you?“ she began, but then stopped. “Never mind.”

After a minute David laid down his things and sat next to her.

She looked at her coffee, drank some, and said, “You said you could relate. My parents told me you’ve spoken to high school and college students, but that’s all I know. How can you relate?”

So he had to go there after all? He couldn’t just tell her the right thing to do like he did his audiences?

But don’t you get it? She’s not your motivational fan.

“I’ve been through something tragic, like you.”

She turned to him. “Really? A shooting?”

“No, a tsunami.”

“A tsunami?” she asked, leaning in. Her eyes filled with curiosity and sadness �" for him.

She empathized with him?

“That one that hit during Christmas in 2004?” she asked. He nodded and she hesitantly asked. “Were you in Indonesia?”

“No, Thailand.”

She nodded, taking in what he said. She looked at him tenderly. “Was your brother there, too?”

He nodded slowly.

“Is that the reason he’s no longer a Christian?”

David answered abruptly, “It’s nothing I’d care to discuss.”

“Why?” She asked.

David got up quickly. “It’s getting late, and I have to work early tomorrow. I should be getting you back home.”

“Wait a minute,” she stood now. “You won’t answer my question?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

“So this is what it’s about?” she held her coffee. “You’re playing psychology with me? What am I, your charity?”

“Knock it off!”

“No, I won’t! You think just ‘cause you went through some disaster, you can relate to what I’m going through?” She shook her head. “I hate that you went through that. I’m sorry. But I'm not your charity, some bonus points you can earn to be right for Jesus.”

She flung the coffee into the trash bin to her right. Some of it splattered on her and David. He flung his hands up.

“You know what?” He jabbed his finger at her. “You’re impossible!”

“I'm impossible? You won’t answer a simple question!”

Some people walking in the parking lot looked their way, but continued on.

“I asked you, is that the reason your brother is no longer a Christian?”

David flung up his arms in frustration. “Look, yes �" I don’t know!” He shouted. He clinched his fists momentarily before stooping down and snapping up his laptop case and book. “Look, let’s just go, alright?”

She said nothing and reluctantly followed David back to his car.

They drove in silence, the frustration easing out of him as the music played through the car. He pulled up to her house and turned off the music, but neither of them moved. Instead, Stella looked at him.

“He looked just like him,” she muttered.

“Who?” he asked.

“The guy at Starbucks looked just like Tracy from behind.”

“Tracy Reynolds.“ David softened his tone now and turned to her. “Your friend.”

She nodded and looked own. She paused. “My parents told you what happened.”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Yeah.” She replied softly.

Now David found himself saying something he’d never expect. “My brother hasn’t been the same since…it happened. He seemed fine at first. But then he just…changed.”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. After another minute she spoke. “Sometimes I see Tracy everywhere, and I hope he’s still alive. But…” she paused. “Well, as you know, we all must deal with hard times cause the good Lord loves us too much to keep it from us.”

He looked at her, realizing he understood what she meant.

He’d thought that way too.

“I have to go.” She said. She took his Blackberry, which was on the seat next to him, dialed in her number and handed it to him. Then she took his book. “Thanks for this. Call me.”

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think -- any review or input would help