Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(99)

I nod. “Because of the naked women you mean?” I saw more than what I allowed myself to admit.

He winces. “I mean because your friend is hurting.”

“He thinks he’s like his dad, but he’s also mad at his dad, and mad at God for showing his dad grace but not covering the whole family with it. Like his dad gets to walk away while they tend to the scars, or something.” I do my best to sum up Matt’s rant from several hours ago.

Roland shakes his head. “Buck doesn’t get to just walk away.”

“I know that, but I get what he’s saying, too. I used to think the same thing about you.”

“Used to?” Roland asks, pulling into the Wells’ driveway.

I nod, unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car. “I was determined to hate you.”

“And now?” he asks, putting his keys in his pocket and walking around the front of the car, standing across from me.

I shake my head. “I don’t hate you anymore. I don’t think I ever really did, honestly. I’m sorry about tonight,” I add in quickly.

Roland runs a hand through his hair. “I wish you would have come to me right away, but I’m glad you eventually did.”

I snicker at the double-meaning about coming to him that I’m not sure he’s aware of.

“Come here,” he says, holding out his arms.

I do, and feel at home in his hug. It’s the most at home I’ve felt in weeks. It’s scary, and it’s tense, and uncertain. But it’s wonderful. “Did you call my mom?”

Roland sighs. “Not yet.”

“What are the odds we need to tell her?” I ask, stepping back. “I mean, what are the chances anyone but the five of us—six counting Matt’s mom—will know or need to know about this?”

Roland sighs again and starts for the guesthouse. “I don’t know how to answer that, Kennedy. I’m not only a parent that was involved tonight. I’m on the faculty of Carter University, the pastor of New Life …”

“And internationally responsible for, like, everyone,” I add, resigned, following him into the house and onto the couch.

He nods. “I have a lot of moral and ethical balls in the air here.”

“So,” I ask, breathless with oncoming tears, “what do we do?”

Roland lowers his head for a moment and then grabs my hand, eyeing me. “Pray with me,” he requests, not asks.

“Of course,” I answer without hesitation. I mean, it’s the least I can do. I can’t imagine the scene my mom may have caused in or around the strip club tonight. All Roland did was remind me over and over that I did the right thing.

Now I need to do the right thing for him.

With our heads lowered and eyes closed, Roland starts. “Dear Lord, please guide our actions and decisions over the oncoming days and weeks. We don’t know what your purpose in what happened tonight is, Father God, but we do know it’s written in your plan.”

“All things work together,” I whisper without thinking. Matt hates the scripture, but it’s the only thing that’s giving me hope right now.

“As you state in Romans, Lord,” Roland adds, picking up where I leave off, “that all things work together for good to those who love you and who have been called according to your purpose.”

I lose focus on what Roland is saying as he finishes the prayer, because I’m stuck on one bit of scripture. One thorny bit I’ve never given much consideration to before, because it hasn’t mattered as much as it does in this moment.

All things work together for good to those who love God, is what the scripture says.



To those who love God …



My blood runs cold at the thought. The thought of Matt alone in his room, angry, hurt, and self-destructing.

What if he doesn’t love God? I know he thinks God doesn’t love him and he’s angry with God. But people get angry at those they love all the time, and continue right along loving them.

What if he doesn’t love God, though? How will things work together for him then?





Epilogue





Kennedy.




It’s been six weeks since Matt’s talked to me. Get out were his last words.

He’s never talking to me again.

If I weren’t getting powdered down by Today Show makeup people again, I’d probably try texting him again. I text him every single day. Once in the morning and once at night. I remind him that I love him and care about him, and he never responds. That’s okay though. I’ll keep doing it until he finally does talk to me or one of us dies because, even if he changes his number, I’ll find out.

Roland and Buck sat down with school counseling to arrange intensive sessions with Matt in order for him to be able to finish out the year. Per my request, and Roland’s understanding, they kept Dean Baker out of it. Chills race down my spine at the thought of what Weeble Baker would do with that information on Matt.

I’ve seen him though, even though he won’t talk to me. We have Roland’s New Testament class together, which is weird and awkward on a number of levels. I haven’t tried to talk to him in person yet because I need him to know that while I care deeply, I also respect his wishes to not speak to me, kind of. I don’t want him changing out of the class, so I walk the line I guess.