wry smile curling one corner of her mouth. “It’s a good thing Horizon isn’t a home for boys. We’d go broke buying groceries.”
“Just for that, I’m ordering double dessert.”
“I have no objections, since you’re picking up the tab.”
Lynn turned toward her residents. Erik had done plenty of observing in the past two days, and one thing he’d noticed right away was that Lynn almost always tried to include the girls in the decision-making. He had questioned the practice at first, but he’d quickly seen the wisdom of it. Giving the girls a voice in where the furniture went made them feel more a part of the home than just inmates in it, and debates over various issues taught them valuable communications and thinking skills. And it was done so skillfully, so matter-of-factly, Erik doubted the girls realized what was happening. His admiration for Lynn was growing even more quickly than his desire. That surprised him a little, humbled him a lot.
Lynn turned toward the sofa, where Regan was sprawled in insolent repose, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her combat boots on the table. “Regan?”
The girl’s expression was the consummate look of teenage boredom. “Who gives a rip?”
Lynn made no comment, but bent over and turned down the radio as Regan pushed herself to her feet and began roaming restlessly around the room. Lynnturned next to Christine Rickman, the painfully shy, very pregnant fifteen-year-old with honey-blond hair and big brown eyes. “Christine?”
The girl blushed a bit, a tiny smile curving her mouth. She glanced up at Erik but her eyes darted quickly back down and her blush deepened. “I don’t know.”
Tracy elbowed Michelle and said, “I think the senator should put his rod wherever he wants.”
Lynn arched a brow in silent reproach.
The doorbell rang and Erik groaned as Lillian went to answer it. “I don’t think this vote needs a quorum.
Somebody
make a decision!”
“Nail it to the wall, Erik,” Martha called from where she knelt on the floor with Barbara, sorting through stacks of books.
Barbara groaned. Tracy and Michelle burst into another round of giggles.
“Oh, my, it’s so good to hear laughter after the day I’ve had, I can tell you,” Father Bartholomew said. He followed Lillian into the room, wringing his hands and looking his usual disheveled self. A spike of brown hair stuck straight out from the left side of his head. Behind his crooked glasses, his eyes were bright with worry, and there was a telltale flush of color on his cheekbones. “I spent most of the day inWinona, with Bishop Lawrence bending my ear but good.”
Lynn’s heart gave a lurch as she turned toward the priest. “What did he have to say?”
“Plenty. God love him, he’s a wonderful man, but he can get on such a tear. Oh, my, you just don’t know.” Hands folded against his belly, he rolled his eyes heavenward and offered up a few muttered words in Latin.
“He’s seen Graham’s petitions?” Lynn asked.
“Yes, and the news on television and in the papers.” He flashed Lynn a look of apology. “And I’m afraid I had to tell him about the refrigerator.”
“Of course.”
“Though I assured him it was not your fault at all, Lynn, dear. He wasn’t a happy man, but I managed to work the news in nicely with the biblical story of casting the first stone. He thought it would make an excellent homily.” His face lit briefly with a glow of pride.
“What did he have to say about Horizon House?” Erik asked. He lowered the drapery rod and left it balancing on the step stool as he gave his full attention to the priest.
Father Bartholomew gave a dramatic little sigh. His brows pulled together above his nose in a worried peak. He shoved his glasses into place and triedin vain to straighten them. “Well, he’s none too pleased with me about letting the house out without the permission of the parish council, but he’s backing me up for the moment.”
“Thank
“Just for that, I’m ordering double dessert.”
“I have no objections, since you’re picking up the tab.”
Lynn turned toward her residents. Erik had done plenty of observing in the past two days, and one thing he’d noticed right away was that Lynn almost always tried to include the girls in the decision-making. He had questioned the practice at first, but he’d quickly seen the wisdom of it. Giving the girls a voice in where the furniture went made them feel more a part of the home than just inmates in it, and debates over various issues taught them valuable communications and thinking skills. And it was done so skillfully, so matter-of-factly, Erik doubted the girls realized what was happening. His admiration for Lynn was growing even more quickly than his desire. That surprised him a little, humbled him a lot.
Lynn turned toward the sofa, where Regan was sprawled in insolent repose, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her combat boots on the table. “Regan?”
The girl’s expression was the consummate look of teenage boredom. “Who gives a rip?”
Lynn made no comment, but bent over and turned down the radio as Regan pushed herself to her feet and began roaming restlessly around the room. Lynnturned next to Christine Rickman, the painfully shy, very pregnant fifteen-year-old with honey-blond hair and big brown eyes. “Christine?”
The girl blushed a bit, a tiny smile curving her mouth. She glanced up at Erik but her eyes darted quickly back down and her blush deepened. “I don’t know.”
Tracy elbowed Michelle and said, “I think the senator should put his rod wherever he wants.”
Lynn arched a brow in silent reproach.
The doorbell rang and Erik groaned as Lillian went to answer it. “I don’t think this vote needs a quorum.
Somebody
make a decision!”
“Nail it to the wall, Erik,” Martha called from where she knelt on the floor with Barbara, sorting through stacks of books.
Barbara groaned. Tracy and Michelle burst into another round of giggles.
“Oh, my, it’s so good to hear laughter after the day I’ve had, I can tell you,” Father Bartholomew said. He followed Lillian into the room, wringing his hands and looking his usual disheveled self. A spike of brown hair stuck straight out from the left side of his head. Behind his crooked glasses, his eyes were bright with worry, and there was a telltale flush of color on his cheekbones. “I spent most of the day inWinona, with Bishop Lawrence bending my ear but good.”
Lynn’s heart gave a lurch as she turned toward the priest. “What did he have to say?”
“Plenty. God love him, he’s a wonderful man, but he can get on such a tear. Oh, my, you just don’t know.” Hands folded against his belly, he rolled his eyes heavenward and offered up a few muttered words in Latin.
“He’s seen Graham’s petitions?” Lynn asked.
“Yes, and the news on television and in the papers.” He flashed Lynn a look of apology. “And I’m afraid I had to tell him about the refrigerator.”
“Of course.”
“Though I assured him it was not your fault at all, Lynn, dear. He wasn’t a happy man, but I managed to work the news in nicely with the biblical story of casting the first stone. He thought it would make an excellent homily.” His face lit briefly with a glow of pride.
“What did he have to say about Horizon House?” Erik asked. He lowered the drapery rod and left it balancing on the step stool as he gave his full attention to the priest.
Father Bartholomew gave a dramatic little sigh. His brows pulled together above his nose in a worried peak. He shoved his glasses into place and triedin vain to straighten them. “Well, he’s none too pleased with me about letting the house out without the permission of the parish council, but he’s backing me up for the moment.”
“Thank
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