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“The room is full most of the time. Where’s Samantha? Wouldn’t she come with you?”

Aimee answered, “I didn’t ask her. She came upstairs and announced that she was going to the mall with Jennifer. Instead of arguing, I told her that was good so she wouldn’t be alone while I went to church.”

“She looked as if she thought I’d lost it, but she didn’t say anything. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be with me, yet she doesn’t want me to go anywhere without her either. Rather ironic, isn’t it?”

The service felt a little like coming home. It was a familiar blend of hymns, prayer, Bible reading and a sermon. The minister gave a powerful sermon on the text “Choose You This Day Whom You Will Serve?” Now that she had recommitted to a closer walk with God, Joshua’s words when he called the Hebrews to repentance held particular significance for Aimee. Before the service was over, she realized how good it was to be worshiping with God’s people again.

Aimee didn’t see Jacob as she left the service. She felt a slight hurry to face Samantha and stop putting off the inevitable. She prayed for guidance on how to approach her daughter when she got home, for she didn’t want to antagonize Samantha and cause her to be even more rebellious. But as a parent, she was responsible for guiding her daughter toward maturity and hoped to reestablish a loving connection.

She drew a deep breath when she heard Samantha enter the house. Sam was carrying a bag from one of the shoe stores in the mall. No doubt she’d been spending some of the birthday money her grandparents in Florida had sent her.

“Hi, Mom,” Samantha said, and quickly turned to go to her room.

“Come in here for a moment, please.”

Samantha paused on the threshold. “Why?”

“We need to talk,” Aimee said, and Samantha’s eyes narrowed a bit. Still holding her package, Samantha flounced down on the couch opposite Aimee’s chair.

Drawing a deep breath, Aimee said, “I’ve done a lot of thinking since you left for Jennifer’s sleepover yesterday. I’ve concluded that I haven’t been a good mother to you.”

Samantha’s gray eyes, so much like her father’s, opened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Aimee said, “I’ve given you too much attention, too much love, too much freedom to choose your friends and make other personal decisions. Lately, you’ve been acting self-centered and disrespectful, at least to me, although I hope you show respect to other adults. Starting today, that has to change.”

“What does that mean?” Samantha’s eyes studied her mother pointedly.

“For starters,” Aimee answered, “from now on I expect you to assume some household chores, at least to clean your room and make your bed. And I’m taking you to school and picking you up as I’ve always done. When our relationship is better, we’ll talk again about you riding to school with Jennifer.”

Speechless for a few seconds, Samantha finally said, “You’re kidding, right?”

Shaking her head decisively, Aimee said, “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“Mom, when can I have a life? Stop treating me like a baby.” Samantha stared at her mother as if she were a monster.

“I’ve given you more freedom than I should have, and I’m not sure that was a good thing. I also had a call from your math teacher, and I didn’t like her report. Your grades need to improve overall. If you don’t carry a B average the rest of the year, you may have to take classes this summer.”

“That isn’t fair!”

“Perhaps not, but that’s the way it will be.”

“I’ll tell Grammy!”

“I’m sure you will, but Grandmother Blake isn’t your mother. She doesn’t get to decide what you do. Besides, I don’t think she would interfere in my decisions anyway.”

The phone rang, putting their discussion on hold as Samantha bounced out of the chair and ran to answer.

She soon returned and handed the cordless phone to Aimee. “It’s for you.”

“Who is it?” Aimee asked, thinking if it was Erica, she’d return her call later.

“I don’t know.”

Aimee sighed with exasperation. “Hello.”

“Aimee, this is Jacob Mallory. I had some information about our Siblings program in my car this morning that I meant to give you, but somehow I missed seeing you leave.”

“Erica and I left through the side entrance.”

“If you tell me where you live,” Jacob said, “I’ll drop it off at your house this evening. Or I have another suggestion—there’s a meeting of Siblings directors and volunteers Tuesday night. We’ll be discussing plans for the future. If you’ll attend, you could get an idea of what we do and meet the people you’d be working with if you decide to join us. I’ll pick you up if you want to go.”

Aware that Samantha was staring at her accusingly, Aimee deliberated slightly before she said, “I’d like to go to the meeting, and it would be great if you’d stop by for me. We live at 305 Simpson Place.”

“I’ll pick you up at half past six. Will that work?”

“That would be fine. See you then,” Aimee said and hung up the phone. To Aimee’s surprise, Samantha didn’t demand to know who had called, so Aimee didn’t comment on the belligerence reflected in her daughter’s eyes.

“That was Jacob Mallory,” she explained. “I met him at the meeting Friday night.”

“And you’re already going on a date with him?”

“It isn’t a date,” Aimee explained. “He’s invited me to a meeting to learn more about Substitute Siblings, a volunteer organization he and his grandmother founded.”

Samantha’s eyebrows lowered in an angry frown. “Is that the group who looks after orphans and street kids?”

“I understand that’s part of their work,” Aimee said.

“Mom!” Samantha shrieked. “If you have anything to do with them, everybody at school will make fun of me. How can you treat me like this? You’re so mean!”

Samantha ran to her room sobbing. Aimee jumped up and started to follow, but at the top of the stairs, she stopped abruptly. If she gave in to Samantha’s demands now, she might as well forget steering her daughter in a different direction. Although it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, Aimee turned a deaf ear to her daughter’s theatrical sobs, went to her own room and shut the door.

Chapter Four

A robin that seemed to be singing from her windowsill woke Aimee the next morning. She lifted her head and through bleary eyes looked at the clock. Suddenly wide awake, she threw back the blanket, put on her robe and hurried to the head of the stairs.

“Samantha,” she called. “Get up. The alarm clock didn’t go off. We leave for school in thirty minutes.”

“I’m not going! I’m sick.”

Startled, Aimee lifted the bottom of her robe and hurried downstairs. Samantha’s door was open, and Aimee went in without knocking. Samantha was lying on a stack of pillows, a pitiful look on her face. Her eyes were swollen, and she was sniffing as if she had a cold.

Aimee got a thermometer from the adjacent bathroom cabinet and took her temperature. It was normal. So was her pulse rate.

“Stick out your tongue,” Aimee said. Samantha closed her eyes and complied.

Observing her daughter carefully, Aimee wondered if this was a stunt to get sympathy. If Samantha had been crying, that would account for the red eyes and stuffy nose.

“It’s too late for me call in to stay home with you. Erica isn’t working today, so I’ll ask her to check on you a few times. And I’ll call during my lunch break. You know, if you’re too sick for school today, you’re too sick to stay after school and cheer in the game.”

Samantha’s glare was almost more than Aimee could stand, but she turned away quickly. While Aimee dressed she heard the water running in Samantha’s bathroom, and when Aimee was ready, Samantha was standing beside the door, fully dressed, with her backpack over her back.

“Feeling better?”

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