Thanks go to RelentlessOnanism for reading an early draft and giving feedback.
Angie Haskins was watching TV, listening for what she now felt was inevitable: the sound of her husband, Charles, exiting his study to come find her. The expected sound came, and there he was, in the doorway. His greying hair was uncharacteristically frazzled, as if he had been pulling at it, and he looked worried. Angie paused her show, knowing what he would ask her.
"I can't do it. I can't spare the time, Angie. This is too important, I have to get it right...can you fill in for me again?"
"Of course, dear. Do you want to let Nick know, or should I?"
"Uh, can you? I need to get back at it. Thank you, I'm sure you're doing fine, despite your inexperience."
Angie nodded in a 'you can count on me' way, and Charles returned to his study. She watched him go, worrying over how much pressure he was putting on himself. Sure, it was an important occasion, but he was new at it; no one expected perfection the first time.
Sighing, she went to inform their son that she would continue to fill in as Youth Group leader for his father. She knocked on his door, and then pushed in without waiting for an answer. He was at his computer, headphones on, playing some game.
"Nick, when you have a moment," she said.
He nodded, continuing to work at his keyboard and mouse.
Angie waited patiently, eyes roaming over her son's form. He was like his dad in many ways, but his hair wasn't usually one of them. It was tousled, but she was sure it was on purpose, unlike Charles'. Seeing it made her want to take a brush to the messy mop, something her mother would do to her...which was why she held back.
Something apparently untoward happened in the game, and her son sighed with frustration. Tugging his headphones down around his neck, he turned to her with raised eyebrows, his piercing blue eyes fixed on hers. "What's up, Mom?"
"Your dad needs to work -" she started, but he interrupted her.
"On his sermon. Yeah, I figured. You're running Youth Group tonight?"
Angie nodded. "I know you were hoping he could go back to leading it, but right now isn't a good time..."
Nick shrugged. "It's never a good time anymore. Ever since he got set on 'his path', he hasn't had time for anything. It's fine." His tone said it clearly wasn't fine. He turned back to his computer.
Angie wanted to say something, to reason with her son, but it was ground they'd already covered, so left his room instead. He was going to have to learn to live with his dad having different priorities. She went back to the living room, pondering her husband's newest obsession and how it had affected their lives for the millionth time.
His devotion to the church had always been strong, but his recent drive to become a Deacon had taken it to a whole new level. If that was all it was - devotion - it would be fine, but he'd had to drop many aspects of family life in order to study and pray before his ordination. Things like the Youth Group, or spending time with Angie, had been...put aside.
Angie didn't place herself above Charles' call from God, and did her best to be a good supportive wife, but it was a difficult adjustment. Even months later, it was still a daily challenge to stay patient, but Angie did her best to keep patience front and centre whenever she found herself tested.
She went down to the kitchen to pack up some muffins to take to the meeting, knowing they would have to leave soon. "Nick! The bus is leaving!" Angie called up the stairs, when she was done. "Get a move on!"
Banging and thumping followed, then footsteps crashing down the hardwood steps from the second floor. He careened around the corner, six feet of eighteen-year-old boy almost running into her.
"Slow down, you're going to cause an accident," she said, reaching out to steady him. She noted how big his arms had gotten, as she was no longer able to even curl her hand around his biceps.
"It sounded like you were leaving right away," he protested.
The blonde giggled. "Almost. If I didn't threaten to walk out the door, you'd still be dragging your feet. Now put your shoes on and take the muffins to the car."
Nick groaned at being manipulated and bent to pull his shoes on while Angie went to get her purse. By the time she was ready to go, Nick was out the door to the car.
Phone, purse, chapstick, check. On the way, she stopped at the hallway mirror and checked that her blonde waves were still in order; the same blonde that adorned her only offspring's head. She kept hers much neater.
"We're headed out, be back in a few hours!" she called out to the house, knowing her husband wouldn't hear her, but wanting to update him anyway.
The heels of her flats clapped the paving stones from the front door to the driveway, where her KIA Sorento was waiting, son inside. She could see him slumped in the front seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, which made her grin. He was doing it to get a rise out of her. Tsking, she popped the driver's door open and said her line, "Sit up, you'll ruin your posture."
"Moooom," Nick faux-protested, slowly pushing himself upright while Angie started the car. It was a well-worn exchange from when he was younger, one that had started as an instinctual parroting of her mother's nagging. Thankfully, Nick's teasing had turned it into a fun interaction, instead of an annoying one.
Taking the opportunity to do some real nagging on the short drive, Angie said, "Try to look enthusiastic at the meeting today, the youngsters look up to you to set a good example."
"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I can stop going after I graduate, right?"
"You know you can, but your father and I would appreciate it if you continued on in a leadership role. It'll look good on your resume; employers look for that kind of experience."
"Not if I hate it and yell at the kids," he mumbled.
Angie shook her head, reminding herself that he was young and wanting to stretch his wings. Her happy-go-lucky boy had turned into a wilful teenager with his own ideas when she wasn't looking. "We won't pressure you, but we trust you'll listen to God and do what's right."
He didn't reply, simply staring out the window at the clear skies.
It was a nice, warm late spring, and predicted to be an even warmer summer. Angie wasn't looking forward to the blistering heat inside the church on Sunday mornings, when the old air conditioner predictably broke down. Last year had been torture, and Angie had had to rely on constant prayer and dreams of arctic winds to get through it.
The rest of the short drive to their church passed in silence, Angie using the time to sort out her week. Tonight was Youth Group, tomorrow was choir, Friday night was free, Saturday was the bake sale planning meeting, and then of course...Sunday.
Sunday: the big day when her husband, the newest Deacon, would present his inaugural sermon. Angie was nervous for him, but had faith he would do well. He'd practiced a few choice lines on her, and they'd been full of righteous zeal, his fine voice ringing through the house.
That voice was his finest feature, and to Angie's shame, she'd had to cross her legs to contain her tingling reaction to his performance. She'd hoped he would come to bed early that night, but she fell asleep waiting. Unfortunately not unusual nowadays.
Angie pulled into the Deacon's parking spot, hers to use when Charles wasn't there, and put the car into park. She looked over at Nick. "Remember, big smiles. You're happy to be here. Now, grab the muffins."
Mother and son made their way into the church hall, finding a chaos of youth from age 12 to 18. The older ones congregated in the corner while the young ones shouted and threw rubber balls at each other, creating a stunning din. Angie took the tray of muffins and let Nick go meet his friends, heading to the kitchen to set up the snacks and juice.
"Hi Janey," she sang. She placed the container down on a counter and put her purse aside, reaching for an apron.
Janey, another of the church parents who helped the Youth Group meetings, threw a smile her way. She was a cute brunette with happy eyes, heavy breasts and 'baby-making' hips on a thin frame. Her and Angie had been called twins many times, and apart from their hair, it was kind of true. They'd been friends for years, and did a lot of church activities together.
The younger woman was in the middle of pouring cups of the watered down 'juice' they served. It was more like coloured water, but the kids guzzled it after an evening playing games. "Hi Angie. The kids seem to be in high spirits today. Is it a full moon, do you think?"
"Full moon, or the good weather is giving them extra energy. Either way, let's hope we can work some of it out of them. I'll get Nick started on leading them through an opening prayer, okay?"
Janey nodded, still pouring.
Angie popped her head out of the door and managed to dodge a ball carelessly flung her way. "Watch your aim, Henry," she called, kicking the ball back to him. She waved to her son, who sauntered over, face not as cheery as she would like. She smiled brightly at him, trying to remind him without reprimanding, and said, "Can you get us started with a prayer, please?"
Nick grumbled but turned and raised his hand. The signal was quickly picked up by the other youth, and by magic the room quietened as each kid saw the hand in the air and stopped their play. Balls were tossed aside, and the group of twenty kids gathered around Nick.
Angie watched with satisfaction as her son lead the group through an opening prayer. He'd always been good with the younger kids, and she couldn't help thinking, for the millionth time, how he deserved some brothers and sisters. As always, the thought summoned the scowling face of her mother, and it was quickly discarded.
When the prayer was done, she stepped in and quickly divided them into groups by age, giving each one an activity. The last group were the oldest - Nick and three other boys who had grown up in the church together - a coincidental clutch of boys born to the parish in the same year.
"Well, boys. The time is yours, do with it as you will, but I suggest you keep brainstorming your end of year activity. You haven't got much time left, and your options are severely limited at this point, thanks to your lollygagging." Angie turned away, intending to see if Janey needed a hand, but was stopped by Nick's voice.
"Wait, Mom, we know what we're doing."
She turned back, arranging her face into a carefully neutral but interested expression. She'd been filling in as a Youth Leader for a few months now, and had heard this declaration before; each idea had been shot down for reasons of cost, practicality or appropriateness.
Nick said, "We want to go camping."
"Oh! Well, that's easy enough. Where do you want to go?"
