But he also knew that they scarred just as deeply as anyone else did.
Those boys and their parents deserved the best his family and the Scotts could offer, and nothing—not even Jenna—should distract him from giving it.
“I sure hope after all that time in there that you two washed your hands,” Kelly said to her sons.
“We did, Mommy.” Only one of them answered, but they both held up their hands.
The waitress took their order, and soon the twins were wolfing down their waffles as if they hadn’t eaten in months. Not true, of course, since their parents had already mentioned the pizza they’d eaten in their hotel room late last night.
“Boys, you need to slow down. This isn’t a race,” Kelly admonished them as she set her fork aside.
Dylan shook his head. “Obviously you weren’t a boy who grew up with brothers. In my house, everything was a race or a contest.”
“I can vouch for that,” Jenna told them. “The Warren brothers competed over who could spit the farthest or cross his eyes the longest, even who had the most ear wax.”
Because Dylan couldn’t help smiling at the shared memory, he was glad she wasn’t looking his way. But she would know about those things. She’d been there for many of those contests and other incidents. He remembered clearly just how important it was to him to win when Jenna was around.
“You really do understand our boys, then,” Brad said.
“It sounds as if you’ve known each other a long time.” Kelly looked back and forth between them, searching for a connection.
“Since birth…or a little before,” Jenna said, smiling.
“Our mothers are best friends, so they stuck us kids together a lot.”
He hadn’t intended the comment to sound so harsh, but he failed, and an awkward silence settled over the table. He suddenly felt bad—he didn’t want to hurt Jenna. He just didn’t want to get pulled back into a friendship that had caused him so much pain. But being around her brought back so many memories, most filled with laughter rather than sadness. It confused and frustrated him that though he knew he should steer clear of her for his own good, part of him was willing to be drawn in again. It didn’t do any good for him to wish he could have found an excuse not to work on a team with Jenna. He simply had to work with the situation as it was.
“Anyway…I think we’ve addressed all the details.” Dylan glanced down at the list of tasks in front of him and then to the list of clothing and shoe sizes next to Jenna’s coffee cup. “Can any of you think of anything we haven’t covered?”
“Will Santa miss us this year because he doesn’t know we’re at a hotel, instead of our old, burned-up house?” Ryan asked, suddenly serious.
Dylan swallowed, his heart aching for the child’s distress. The twins’ concerns might not have been as obvious as those of their parents, but they were there.
The adults glanced at one another across the table. The boys wouldn’t fully understand how much they’d lost in the fire for a while—the memories and surety that they would always be safe. The grown-ups already knew.
Connor tilted his head to the side. “Do you think Santa will get it if we leave a note for him at our old house to tell him where we are now?”
“As long as we put a cookie and some milk with it.” Excitement replaced the worried look on Ryan’s face.
“Hey, those are clever ideas, boys.” Kelly managed a reassuring smile for her sons.
The waitress stopped by the table to leave the check, and Dylan nabbed it before anyone could look at it. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and set his credit card with the bill.
Brad glanced at the credit card that represented a free breakfast, and he gripped his hands together. “I don’t know if all this is the best idea. Your church has already done so much with the hotel room and all.”
Kelly leaned her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. All through breakfast, the two of them had been holding hands. “You’ll have to forgive my husband. It’s hard for him to accept help. We’ve always made our own way before, and…” As her voice broke, she glanced away, dabbing her eyes with her napkin.
“Pride. It’s a tough thing.” Brad tried to laugh, but his voice was thick with emotion. “With me out of work and now…this, we’re not in a position to be able to turn down help, for the boys at least. So thank you for everything.”
“Okay, then,” Dylan said. “First we’ll—”
Brad rushed on as if Dylan hadn’t spoken. “But as soon as we’re able, we’ll repay every cent.”
Reverend Boggs held his hands wide. “Now, Brad, there’s no need to worry about that right now. These two families are just trying to do as our Lord directed to feed and clothe those who need it. You would do the same if the situation were reversed. Remember in Matthew 25:40, Jesus said, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’”
“It’s just hard.” Brad shrugged, not quite on board.
In a surprising move, Jenna reached over and squeezed Brad’s hand. “Think of it as only temporary.” Her smile was warm enough to convince even the most determined person to change his mind. “When you’re back on your feet, you can help out somebody else who’s going through a tough time. That way the help keeps moving.”
When Jenna released his hand, Brad sat straighter in his seat. “Okay. We’ll do that.”
It was all Dylan could do not to stare at her with his mouth gaping open. He’d never seen her like this before, so generous and selfless, so focused on someone else’s need. She was…different.
Don’t go there. You can’t afford to. Not again.
“That’s great.” Jenna pushed back from the table and stood. “Now why don’t you all get back to the hotel? You probably could use a relaxing day after yesterday. We’ll take care of some of these details and have you resettled in no time.”
Reacting to her cue, Dylan came to his feet. The others around him stood, as well.
“In no time,” he repeated, stepping over to shake hands with Brad.
Jenna was less formal, hugging Kelly first and then bending to offer each of the boys a squeeze. They only grimaced a little.
As she moved on to hug Brad and the minister and his wife, Dylan slanted a perplexed look her way.
He couldn’t help but think about how she’d tried to make it easier for the Denton family to accept assistance, seeming to care as much about their feelings as their physical needs. The Jenna he remembered wouldn’t have thought to reach out to anyone else. She’d always been too preoccupied as the epicenter of her own universe. But was it possible that she had changed.
Again, he forced himself not to read too much into her efforts. She was probably just hurrying the process along so they could finish their charity project and get on with their Christmas activities.
Preoccupied,
