The Cinderella Plan. Margaret Daley
day looking for a runaway, making flyers, dealing with Rex Givens. I hope you’re hungry, because I’m planning on having dessert in celebration.”
“Celebration?”
“Yeah. Hopefully I’ve found a way to help Dylan.” Caleb’s spirits lifted even more when he saw the smile grow on Anne’s face. He grinned in return, feeling like a teenage boy discovering the appeal of girls.
“What if the Givens decide to keep Dylan?”
Pulling away from their house, Caleb said, “I’ve got the feeling they won’t mind me applying for the job. They’ll probably welcome it. From what Rex said, they would much rather have an easier child to parent.”
“And if Dylan leaves their house, they’ll have room for another one?”
“Yep.”
Anne thought of her own parents and their lack of involvement in raising her. They had been wrapped up in their teaching at the college and their research projects. Although she still lived with them, even now she rarely saw her parents. She sometimes wondered if the only reason they had wanted her to live with them—in fact, they’d insisted—was so she could watch the house when they were gone, which was a lot lately with her father on the lecture circuit.
“Parenting shouldn’t be a business,” Anne said, then instantly regretted revealing her thoughts. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from expounding on the subject.
Caleb stopped at a red light, throwing her a glance. “I agree. Being a parent is the most important job there is, and it should never be taken lightly or for granted.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“No. They were in their forties when they had me. They tried for years and had actually given up when I came along. They told everyone I was God’s little surprise for them.” Pressing his foot on the accelerator, he drove through the intersection.
Anne heard the love in his voice. “Then you were an only child?”
“Yes. Even though my parents were older, I kept bugging them for a brother. It never happened.” He parked in front of the diner and switched off the engine, angling toward her. “I didn’t like being an only child. When I have a family, I want a whole house full of children. How about you?”
“I was an only child, too. I didn’t much like it, either.” She purposely avoided answering him about having children of her own. She also wanted a whole house full of them, but she didn’t think that would happen. Her marriage prospects were slim. They shared a dream but not a future.
He started to say something, seemed to think about it and decided not to. Instead, he turned away and got out of the car. Hurrying around the front of the car, he opened her door for her before she had a chance to gather her purse from the floor and do it herself. For a second she almost felt as if she was on a real date, but then reality hit when she glimpsed herself and Caleb in the plate glass window along the front of the diner. They were such an unlikely pair. The best she could hope for with Caleb Williams was friendship.
Inside he grabbed a booth with bright blue vinyl seats near the front and slid in, peering at the poster of James Dean on the wall above him. She gave James a quick smile. An old Elvis song played on the jukebox at the back of the diner, its catchy tune causing her to tap her foot to the beat. So many odors vied for dominance. Anne drew in a deep breath and relished the scent of beef sizzling above all the other aromas.
“Hmm.” He flipped open the menu. “It always smells so good in here. I wish I was a better cook than I am.”
“You don’t cook?”
He shook his head. “What I do when I’m desperate isn’t what you would really call cooking. I have a lot of frozen dinners and prepared foods. How about you? Do you like to cook?”
“I can cook, but I can’t say that I like to. It’s not that much fun to cook for just yourself.”
“Don’t you live with your parents?”
“Yes, but they aren’t home that much to eat what I make, so I resort to frozen dinners, too.” Anne opened the menu and skimmed it, already knowing what she was going to have.
When the waitress, Miranda Jones, came to the table a few minutes later, Caleb gave her their orders, then took a long sip of his ice water. “I’m so relieved that you’ll be helping with the decorations this week. I hope it won’t be too much extra work for you.”
Unwrapping her utensils, Anne smoothed her napkin in her lap. “No. The only night I can’t make it is Wednesday night. I volunteer to hold babies at the hospital that evening.”
“Hold babies?”
“Actually, I usually do it twice a week, but I think I can get someone to do my Friday shift since that’s when we’ll be putting up all the decorations for the carnival on Saturday.” She leaned forward, loving the topic of conversation. “I sit in a rocking chair and hold, talk to and even feed the babies, who need someone to do it for them. There are some babies—many of them preemies—who are in the hospital for weeks and need to be held and loved, either because their parents can’t always be there to do it or because they don’t have parents who want to. I think it’s the best job in the world.” Especially since I don’t know if I will ever have my own children to hold, she silently added.
“I didn’t realize there was such a job. You’re right. It would be great. You would probably enjoy working in our nursery on Sunday.”
Anne stared down at her plate. She knew so little about God and Jesus, only what Grandma Rose had told her as a little girl. When her gaze returned to his, she said, “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a church for a service other than a funeral or a wedding.”
Chapter Three
Caleb relaxed back in his seat, the noise of the jukebox and the patrons in the diner fading into the background as he riveted his attention to Anne. “Then you should come to our service one Sunday.”
“I don’t know.” She fidgeted with her napkin, balling it up. “My parents are atheists.”
“And you?” Caleb gritted his teeth, almost afraid to hear her reply.
“Confused. I don’t know what I am. When I was a little girl, I used to visit my grandma and go to church with her. Then I would come home and my parents would have nothing to do with going to church even when I would ask them about it.”
The tension washed from him as he sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. “On Sunday afternoons I have a group at the center. We discuss our faith, the Bible, the challenges of being a Christian in today’s world. Come join us. Some talk, some just listen.”
“I don’t know. I—I’ll think about it.”
“We start at three and go till we finish.”
“No set time to end?”
“Sometimes we’re in a talkative mood, other times not. There’s no pressure put on the group. It’s a time to explore our faith.”
Miranda brought their dinners and first placed Anne’s plate in front of her, then Caleb’s. The scent of roast beef, slathered in a thick, brown gravy, wafted to him, reminding him he was hungry. He watched Anne pick at her cheeseburger and fries and wondered what she was thinking.
Lord, help me to reach her. She needs me. She needs You in her life.
Caleb listened to Gina give the opening prayer before they began their Sunday afternoon faith session. When the girl finished, his gaze slid toward the door into the TV room at the center. Was Anne going to come? he wondered, fighting the disappointment that she wasn’t sitting with them.
He could remember Teresa in college and their long talks about God. He’d thought he could show her the importance of the Lord, but in the end he hadn’t