Taking my cue, I hurried toward the back door leading out of the main sanctuary and into a hallway in the back part of the building. To my left a large sign announced the youth room with bright colors and bold graphics meant to draw attention. I hesitated. Should I go in or wait in the hallway for Ryan?
A boy poked his head out of the room and spotted me. “Hey! I’m Lamarcus.”
“Hey.”
He grinned. “You Mr. Ryan’s girlfriend?”
“What? No.” Kids. Didn’t their parents teach them not ask such things?
You did say you liked bluntness. I ignored the little voice in my head.
Lamarcus shrugged. “Okay. You hanging with us today?”
“Yeah.”
He grinned again and ducked back into the room. Oh, boy. This would be interesting.
Ryan popped through the sanctuary’s double doors and gestured toward the youth room. “Go on in.”
I almost pointed out I was waiting on him, but what would be the point? I stood there until he opened the door and then followed him inside. The room housed a TV and couch, several pub-style tables with stools, a refrigerator, and a circle of chairs. A couple of kids lounged on the couches, several ate pizza at the tables, and two boys played a card game. They all turned to look at me.
Ryan raised his hand. “Guys, this is Casey. She’s here for the summer and is going to hang out with us while she’s in town.”
Great. Now everyone would call me Ida’s nickname. I eyed him. And so much for one Sunday. Talk about taking a mile.
“And me, too, y’all.” Mira Ann’s animated voice preceded her bouncy curls through the door. She gave Ryan a sweet smile and grabbed my arm as if we were old friends. “Won’t this be fun? I’m sure you and I will be great friends.”
Did she mean that, or was she playing Ryan somehow? I glanced at him, but his smile never faltered. They’d probably discussed it earlier. “Uh, sure.”
Mira Ann gave me a squeeze and sauntered over to a group of teen girls sitting at one of the tables. After a moment, the hum of conversation and laughter filled the room again. Mira Ann laughed with four cute cheerleader types and seemed to have no problem doing what I clearly couldn’t. Why did Ryan need me when she obviously connected with the teenagers?
Across the room, two girls about sixteen years old sat across from one another at a pub table. One dressed in jeans and a baggy tee, her blond hair pulled into an unceremonious ponytail. The other, with mousy brown hair and thin features, wore high-top pink shoes, jeans with too many holes, and a Nirvana tank top. Both of them scrolled through social media on their phones and failed to engage with the human population around them. These must be the ones he needed help with. Not the others. They seemed fine with Mira Ann.
I studied the girls, trying to come up with something to say. How did you walk up cold to a teen and start a conversation? “How’s school going” seemed lame. While I had empathy for the wallflowers, Ryan failed to grasp one basic foundational issue. It took an extrovert to coax out an introvert. Awkward people lumped together only festered more awkwardness.
One of the girls, the one with mousy brown hair and sweeping bangs, suddenly looked up as though she’d sensed my gaze. We locked eyes. I gave a stupid little wave.
The girl cocked her eyebrow in that same way I always did when I gave people my cactus stare.
I smiled.
She didn’t. With a roll of her brown eyes, she turned her attention back to the pink phone in her hand.
That went well.
I stood there uncomfortably, not sure what to do next. Ryan moved off, engaging a group of boys in a game of flipping cups over. Once one of them flipped a cup, he got to place it on a tic-tac-toe board.
I stood there, awkward and mostly ignored, until Ryan called for everyone to gather around for the lesson. I stood in the back, watching. Ryan seemed good at this. He engaged the kids in the Bible story, drew real answers out of them with thought-provoking questions, and prayed for them at the end.
As the kids filed out, Mira Ann bustled over. “How about lunch?”
She wanted me to go to lunch with her? I glanced at Ryan, but he had his head bent in conversation with one of the boys.
“Unless you have other plans, of course,” she said sweetly, following my gaze.
She thought I had plans with Ryan? I shook my head. “No, I don’t have any plans.”
“Good. You can ride with me. Let’s go.”
Before I could garner a response, she flounced out the door.
6
The Magnolia
For the second time this week, I’d inadvertently agreed to a social interaction. How did that keep happening? The door closed on Mira Ann’s swaying form. She expected me to follow her. Just like that. What kind of person invited random strangers out to lunch? And worse, into their car? How did she know I wouldn’t hijack her or something? No way I’d ever invite a stranger to hop in and go to lunch. These people were crazy.
Kids cast me weird glances as they skirted me on their way out, revealing that the one social interaction I’d consciously agreed to had been a monumental failure. Ryan clapped boys on the shoulders and reminded teens to do their homework. One set of cheerleaders had a competition this week, and he promised to come support them.
When the last of the kids filed out, Ryan walked up beside me, his goofy grin indicating I hadn’t made a total mess of my first day. That, or my stupidity amused him.
“Next time maybe actually talk to the kids, huh?”
Yep. Definitely the latter. I’d blown the one thing he wanted me to do. “I told you I wasn’t good at this kind of thing.”
He regarded me for a moment, his stare seeking to decode me. Did he think I said stuff like that because I was trying to play some kind of game for attention?
I huffed and returned his stare. He wouldn’t get anything different from me. I was tired of being a chameleon. Always trying to fit in and be who I needed to be in any given place. People might not like the real me, but they didn’t like who I tried to be either. Derick’s betrayal, the loss of my home and job, and then Ida’s death had stripped me of the energy it took to try to make people like me.
I ran my fingers through the tangles in my hair. “Mira Ann said I was going to lunch with her. She took off before I could say anything.”
Ryan glanced at the door. “Yeah, she does that.” His broad shoulders expanded with a deep breath. “Want me to go with you?”
I didn’t want to go at all. “How about you go, and I go home?”
He laughed as if I’d been joking and gathered up empty cans and discarded candy wrappers and tossed them in the trash. I hurried to help. Maybe if I was too busy to meet Mira Ann, she would go on without me. I dumped pizza boxes into the trash and pulled the big black bag from the can.
“That would be rude, Casey.” Ryan finally said. His tone held no judgment, no annoyance. Only simple, clear fact. He straightened a few chairs and took the trash bag from me.
I could get used to this man. His honesty was as refreshing as a strawberry slushy on a hundred-degree day. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not—” I struggled to find the right words.
“Good with people?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”