What Light

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

There’s a knock on our trailer door the next morning. I open it as Caleb’s about to knock again; his other hand holds out a to-go coffee cup with a lid to me. It’s a sweet gesture from a guy whose eyes look so sad and whose hair isn’t combed.

Instead of hello, he says, “I was awful.”

I step down to his level and accept the drink. “You weren’t awful,” I say. “Maybe a little rude to Abby and your mom…”

“I know,” he says. “And when I got home, Abby and I had a long talk. You were right. She’s more okay with everything than I am. We talked about our mom and how we might be able to make this easier for her, too.”

I take a first sip of the peppermint mocha.

He steps closer. “After she and I spoke, I stayed up the rest of the night thinking. My problem isn’t about working things out with Abby anymore, or with my mom.”

“It’s about you,” I say.

“I got no sleep last night thinking about that,” he says.

“Judging by the look of your hair, I believe you,” I say.

“At least I changed my shirt.”

I look him up and down. The jeans are wrinkled but the maroon long-sleeve button-down is working for me. “I can’t take the whole morning off,” I say, “but can I walk with you to church?”

His church isn’t far, but it’s a gentle rise most of the way. The remaining heaviness from last night dissolves further with each corner we turn. We hold hands the entire time to keep us close while we talk. Every so often he rubs his thumb up and down over mine, and I do it right back.

“We went to church a few times when I was little,” I say. “Mostly with my grandparents for the holidays. But my mom went all the time growing up.”

“I try to make it every week,” he says. “Slowly, my mom’s been coming back, too.”

“So you’ll sometimes go by yourself?” I ask. “Were you offended when I said I don’t?”

He laughs. “Maybe if you said you went all the time because you thought it made you look good. I might consider that offensive.”

I’ve never had a conversation about church with my friends. It feels like it should be uncomfortable with someone I like so much, and who I want to like me, but it’s not.

“So you’re a believer,” I say. “Have you always been?”

“I guess so. I’ve always had a lot of questions, though, which some people are afraid to admit. But it gives me something to think about at night. Something other than this girl I’m hung up on.”

I smile at him. “That’s a very honest answer.”

We turn up a side street and that’s when I see the white-steepled church. The sight of it feels like I’m being allowed to glimpse such a personal side of him. This guy I met a few weeks ago comes here every Sunday, and now I’m walking there with him, holding his hand.

We stop to let a car pull into the parking lot, which is filling up fast. A few middle-aged men in orange reflective vests guide cars to the remaining open spaces. Caleb and I walk toward two etched glass doors with a large wooden cross above them. A line of several men and women, young and old, stand outside the doors greeting people as they enter the lobby. Standing to the side, probably waiting for Caleb to arrive, are his mom and Abby.

“Sierra!” Abby bounces over. “I am so relieved to see you. I was afraid my bone-headed brother scared you away last night.”

Caleb throws her a sarcastic grin.

“He brought me a peppermint mocha,” I say. “It’s hard to say no to that.”

One of the greeters behind them checks his phone and soon they’re heading in, closing the glass doors behind them.

“Looks like it’s time to go in,” Caleb’s mom says.

“Actually,” Caleb says, “Sierra has to head back.”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” I say. “But Sundays get busy, especially the week before Christmas.”

Caleb’s mom points a finger at him. “Something I almost forgot. Do you think you can disappear this afternoon?”

Caleb looks at me, confused, and then back to his mom.

“I’m getting a delivery and I’m trying to keep it a secret from you. And this year, I’m determined to not let you spoil it.” She turns to me. “When he was little I had to keep his presents at work because he sniffed out every hiding place at home.”

“That’s horrible!” I say. “My parents could keep mine in their bedroom and I’d do everything to not go in there. Why would I want to accidentally see what I’m getting?”

Caleb ignores my innocence and challenges his mom. “You really don’t think I can sniff out this delivery?”

“Honey…” She pats his arm. “That’s why I said it in front of Sierra. I’m hoping she can teach you to value anticipation.”

Oh, I’ve been anticipating a lot with this boy. “I’m watching you,” I say to Caleb.

“Figure out something to do until dinner,” his mom says.

Caleb looks at his sister. “Apparently I’m supposed to disappear this afternoon. What should we do, Abby-girl?”

“Figure it out now or later,” their mom says, “but I’m going inside. I don’t want to sit in the balcony like last time.” She gives me a hug and then walks inside the church.

Abby tells Caleb to get me a flyer for the candlelight Christmas Eve service. She says, “You should definitely come with us. It’s so beautiful.”

Caleb asks me to wait right here, and I watch him jog toward the glass doors.

Abby looks me directly in the eyes. “My brother likes you,” she says quickly. “Like, really likes you.”

My entire body tingles.

“I know you’re not here much longer,” she continues, “so I wanted you to know that in case he’s being a total guy with his feelings.”

I don’t know how to respond, and Abby laughs at my silence.

Caleb walks out holding a red flyer. He offers it to me but it takes a moment to stop staring at his eyes. On the printed side is a drawing of a lit candle surrounded by a wreath and information about the service.

“Time to go in,” Abby says. She loops her arm through Caleb’s and then the two of them head inside.

Yes, I say to myself, I like your brother, too. Like, really like him.