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I tossed my phone on the cushion beside me and unpaused the TV. I didn’t know much about forging, but given that stilted conversation, I probably knew more about it than I did women.
* * *
Mondays weremy second day off. Pastors had to flex their weekends a bit, since Sundays were, obviously, workdays. I spent my morning tidying up the apartment and going for a long run. I liked to drive over to one of the parking lots for the Mount Vernon trail and then run beside the Potomac down to the end of the trail at Washington’s house, then come back. It was about fifteen miles round trip, and I could do it in just over two hours.
Every now and then, I toyed with trying for the Marine Corps Marathon. Or any marathon, really, but the Marine Corps made sense since it was right here. I’d done a handful of halfs, and liked them well enough. But I didn’t know if I had the full twenty-six miles in me.
I’d never tried.
On work days, I kept my runs to five miles. I had a couple of nice routes to choose from and liked to vary from day to day.
But I looked forward to Mondays and the time spent with my feet slapping the trail along the river. It was my best praying time.
Today I’d been distracted. I tried to funnel the thoughts into actual prayer, but couldn’t quite pull it off. Still, when I got back to my car, sweaty, lungs burning, and that warm pull in my muscles that told me I’d gotten a good workout, my head was clearer. More settled.
I was going to let the pastor know I didn’t plan to apply to grad school.
My stomach clenched. I didn’t like the idea that I’d be letting him down, somehow. Disappointing him. But I just didn’t feel called to do that. Right now, I didn’t feel any call to a senior pastor position, either.
I liked working with the youth. I liked knowing I was helping to shape the next generation of the Church. And hopefully I was giving them the tools that would help them stand firm and hold fast to their faith when they went off to college and out into the world as adults.
And Kayla?
Well, we’d already agreed to dinner. Beyond that, I didn’t know. I liked the idea of having a girlfriend—or a wife. People would stop asking about it then. Stop implying that I was some sort of creeper for wanting to help with the youth as a young, single guy.
I popped the trunk and dug in my duffel for a towel. I scrubbed it over my head and neck before tossing it back in the trunk and shutting it.
My phone rang as I slid behind the wheel.
I fought a groan when I saw Pastor Chaz’s number, but I tapped to accept the call. “Hi, Chaz.”
“Luke. I’m glad I caught you. How are you?”
“Good. Just finished up my long run. Yourself?” I didn’t bother starting the car. I’d likely need to look something up or take notes or any variety of things it would be better not to do when driving. The pastor didn’t call to chit chat. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve had a call from one of the parents expressing concern about the Mexico trip.”
My heart sank. I’d sent all the kids home with a detailed brochure about the trip yesterday. “That didn’t take long.”
The pastor gave a short laugh. “I know. And I know I approved everything before we even reached this stage, but I told her I’d talk to you and see if there was any room for change.”
“What’s her concern?” I imagined it was one of two things. The cost, which I couldn’t really do anything about. We were flying to Mexico. That was never going to be inexpensive, but I’d managed to wrangle a decent deal if we were able to get enough people to commit to going. Or it was the fact that we weren’t doing any sightseeing.
“The schedule.” Pastor Chavez paused to clear his throat. “She expressed concern that the kids would be traveling to another country and missing out on all the opportunities to actually experience that country while they were there.”
I tried counting to ten. It didn’t help much. “How is helping out citizens of that country not experiencing the country again?”
“Luke.” The pastor’s voice carried a warning. “Is there any way to take either the first or last day and change it into something touristy?”
My kneejerk response was no. That wasn’t why I wanted to take the kids on this trip. If they wanted to go see the Mexican beaches, they should talk their parents into a family trip. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “For starters, it would increase the cost. Right now, our transportation costs once we land are minimal. We don’t have to pay for lodging, either, as we’ll be rolling out sleeping bags in the church right there in the village. The village, which isn’t anywhere near the beach. I’m assuming it’s the beaches that she thinks her child needs to see?”
There was a pause. “She did mention the beach. Or the ruins.”
“Right. Well, we aren’t going to be near either of those. Best case? We could spend a day in Mexico City. But that would necessitate a hotel. And probably more chaperones than I was planning on, because I don’t think we’d do as well in the city trying to get around as a huge group. We’d need to split into teams of four or five, each with an adult.” I shook my head. The logistics sounded horrible. “And I’m not sure what there is to see there in the first place. I’m sure there are museums or something, but I don’t think the kids are going to be jumping for joy about that as an option.”
