Wishing Pearl Page 10

  “Do I know him? Mark Stapleton has been a huge blessing to us. He covers us in prayer and offers consistent financial support as well as physical help whenever he can. He had a big part in the construction of this room.”

  Mom smiled. “That’s wonderful.” She turned in a full circle, taking it all in. “How often do the girls use it?”

  “They’re in here some of each day, depending on what’s going on. We monitor their time on electronics like video games, but we allow plenty of time for everything in moderation.”

  “How do you control things like that?” Olivia crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Ben.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. We just limit the number of hours this room is open. Everyone gets to choose what they want to do while they’re in here.” Ben smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Once a month there’s a free day where the girls can do whatever they want to for twenty-four hours. No bedtime, no food restrictions, no game-room limits. It’s all up for grabs. Everyone has a blast on free day.”

  Once a month? Hah! That was how Olivia lived her life every single day. “Interesting.”

  “We want to teach the girls about balance. There’s a time for everything—including recreation.”

  “That makes perfect sense, Ben.” Mom gazed into his eyes.

  Was she actually flirting with him? Gross.

  Ben flipped off the lights and pulled the door closed then tested the lock.

  “But why is it kept locked?” Like Fort Knox around here.

  “Well, Olivia, we try to keep things pretty scheduled. We believe that the best way to keep teens out of trouble is to keep them busy.” He nodded at Mom and then turned back to Olivia. “If we left that door open all the time, girls would spend hours and hours a day in there. But that kind of activity is done only after it’s earned—schoolwork, chores, fresh air … that all comes first.”

  “That’s how it should be, Ben.” Mom sighed. “I wish I’d instilled priorities like that back when I had the chance. Instead, I made Olivia’s private bedroom very much like that game room back there.”

  “Yeah, that’s a mistake many parents make. But it’s never too late to set things right.”

  Mom didn’t look convinced. “Not sure I have the energy to do that unless something else changes first.” She jerked her thumb at Olivia.

  “Sometimes those types of adjustments need to happen simultaneously. One of the aspects of Diamond Estates that we haven’t talked about yet is that we require a counseling connection with the family.” Ben turned the corner down another long hallway.

  “A counseling connection?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Whitford.” Ben turned back to Mom. “That helps us assure that the girls don’t just come here and exist separately from their families. We require a joint counseling session by conference call once a week and a private call with either parent at least once a week. We feel that it’s necessary to prepare the home environment to be ready to accept a changed girl and to support those changes so they last.”

  Mom grinned. “That sounds like a wonderful thing, and it makes perfect sense.”

  “Yeah. Before we started this aspect of the program, girls just returned home and often went right back to their old lifestyles because no one was prepared.”

  Or, better idea, Olivia could run away with Jordyn and never look back. They could move into the city and get an apartment or something. Could she convince Jordyn to go with her?

  They followed Ben past the public bathroom.

  “I’m going to take a detour in here, if that’s okay.” Olivia tipped her head toward the door.

  “Sure. You can meet us in my office when you’re finished. Just follow this hallway and take the second door on the right.”

  Olivia pushed through the swinging door and hurried into a stall then quickly shut and locked the door. She lowered the lid and sat down on the toilet. A moment alone. Finally. She dropped her head into her hands and fought back tears. What was she doing here? How had her life become such a mess? No doubt Mom and Ben were talking about her right now. How troubled and hopeless she was.

  Oh, Daddy. Why? Why did you leave me?

  Where were her smokes? She fumbled in the pockets of her hoodie and pulled out the little box. She put one to her lips and lit it like a starving person at her first meal in a week. She inhaled the heady smoke and held it in her lungs.

  The bathroom door squeaked and banged into the wall as someone flung it open.

  Olivia gasped but didn’t let any smoke escape. She lifted her feet and wrapped her arms around her knees so they wouldn’t slip down again and sat perfectly still. Hopefully no one would find her hiding out in a stall like a scared little girl. Smoking.

  Feet slapped on the tile in angry stomps across the room. The intruder flipped the faucet on full blast and let the water stream into the sink.

  Masked by the noise of the water, Olivia slowly let the smoke stream from her body. Hopefully the air fresheners would mask the smell and the person would leave quickly. She flicked the cigarette into the toilet just as the water turned off.

  Ssssp. The cigarette fizzled out as it sank.

  Peeking through a slit, Olivia saw a blond ponytail bobbing as a narrow set of shoulders shook with unmistakable sobs. Oh no. Should Olivia go to the girl? She didn’t know her, and whatever her problem was, it was none of Olivia’s business, but how much worse would it be if she got caught hiding—

  Whoosh!

  The sensor triggered the autoflush when she shifted positions. Oh no! She lowered her feet. Maybe the crying girl would think Olivia was just using the restroom and not realize she’d been hiding in there. Just act natural. Olivia clicked the latch and let the door swing open.

  No such luck.

  A set of icy blue eyes glared at her. The tears were gone, but the redness gave away her pain. “Who are you, and why were you hiding? And what’s that smell?”

  “I wasn’t hiding.”

  “Yes, you were. I checked for feet.” She turned back to the sink. “But whatever.”

  “Is everything okay?” Olivia took a step toward the tiny powerhouse. Maybe someone had hurt her. Could it be Ben?

  “Look. You’d be real smart to mind your own business … whoever you are. And if I were you, I’d go back to where you came from before you get caught smoking in here.” She flung her ponytail over her shoulder and stormed out of the bathroom.

  Olivia took a deep breath and waited a moment before leaving the restroom in case the girl was out there. Peering down the hallway, confident she was alone, Olivia hurried to Ben’s office and slid into the seat beside her mom in front of a large desk and several mismatched bookcases.

  Controlling her breathing so they wouldn’t ask questions, Olivia shielded her eyes from the bright sun coming through the window.

  Ben adjusted the window blinds to avert the bright afternoon sun. “Is that better?”

  “Oh, it’s just fine. Thank you.” Mom blushed. “No need to worry about us.”

  Ugh. Quit gushing, Mom.

  Ben pulled a folder from the file cabinet behind him. He swiveled and placed his forearms on his desk in one swift motion.

  Olivia snapped her gum and crossed her arms, waiting for Mom to drop the bomb that she had no intention of bringing Olivia home with her.

  “Well, you’ve had the grand tour. You’ll meet some of the girls and staff in a few minutes. You basically know what we’re about here at Diamond Estates. But I want to share something with you—something that might surprise you both.” Ben pursed his lips and rocked back in his chair. After a moment he looked in Olivia’s eyes with a solemn expression. “If this weren’t just a visit—if you had come here planning to stay with us—I’m sorry to say, I’d have to send you back home with your mom.”

  Mom gasped.

  Olivia’s eyes widened. Hah! Maybe there was a God after all. And maybe He did answer prayers. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud.

 
“Why is that, Ben?” Mom’s attempt at an even tone sounded strained.

  Don’t be too disappointed, Mom. Guess you’re stuck with me. Olivia smirked and raised an eyebrow. I’m not even good enough for this place.

  “Well, Mrs. Whitford, I hope you can understand.” Ben pulled on his square chin, accentuating the deep cleft. “We’re here to find the diamonds in the rough. We work hard to uncover God’s finest jewels by chiseling at the layers of pain, sin, fear, and whatever else is piled on top of the beauty. We are completely ineffective at that work when the pearl wants to stay in its oyster, so to speak.”

  “But—”

  Ben cut Mom off and turned to Olivia. “Basically, dear, you have to want to be here. You have to want Jesus to get ahold of your life. You have to want to change.”

  Mom closed her mouth.

  “There are girls all over the country who come here because they are desperate to let go of their messed-up lives and give God complete control.” Ben tipped back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. “Not only will we not fill one of their spots in the program with a girl who doesn’t want it, but we also can’t let a bad attitude permeate the house and negatively affect the girls who have come to do the hard work and surrender themselves fully. Sometimes negativity sneaks in the back door when we’re unaware. But we can’t just stand back and welcome it into our midst.”

  Olivia parted two of the vertical blinds with her fingers and peered out at the bright, snowy mountain-scape while he spoke. Did she want to change her life? What about God? Maybe it was time to let Him back in. Parts of her heart felt hollow and longed for those long-ago Sunday school days when she’d memorized Bible verses and sang silly songs about floods and armies that somehow made her feel close to Jesus. But He didn’t answer her prayers then—when she needed Him most. And her prayers in years since had continuously been ignored. Why bother turning to Him now?

  “Can you understand that, Olivia?” Ben spoke in a near whisper.

  The metal strips fell back against the window. Olivia looked from her mom to Ben and shrugged. “I guess.”

  Ben frowned and held her gaze for a few moments. He blinked first. “Mrs. Whitford, you should pray—pray for Olivia, her decisions, her faith. The staff and I here at Diamond Estates, we’ll pray, too. I sense in my heart that there’s something truly special about your daughter. That the Lord is calling out to her. Unfortunately, this program requires dedication, and it isn’t effective when girls come kicking and screaming.”

  Mom’s brimming eyes begged Olivia. “I’m so fearful for your future—for what you’re going to do next. Don’t you have anything to say?”

  What could she tell them? Did Mom expect her to beg? That wasn’t happening. The conversation needed to end. Now.

  “When’s dinner?” Olivia’s aloof response probably came off as very rude, but the conversation had grown too heavy and she felt like a kitten cornered by rabid dogs. Was she expected to make this easy for them? After all, she hadn’t asked for the visit, and she certainly didn’t want to stay. This wasn’t her idea, and it wasn’t her job to make them feel at ease.

  Mom turned to Ben, her shoulders slumped, and lifted both hands as if to say, I give up.

  With a nod and a resigned sigh, he checked his watch. “Dinner is now. Shall we?” He stood and waited for them to rise then led them from the room. An awkward silence reverberated through the hallway on the walk to the dining room until Ben cleared his throat. “Mrs. Whitford, please don’t worry too much. Everything takes time—at least the things worth waiting for. Sadly, girls often have to hit rock bottom before they’re ready to reach up a hand for help. We’ll pray for some kind of intervention—a miracle—before it comes to that.”

  Olivia raised her eyebrows. Hello? I’m still here. She resisted the urge to wave her hands in front of their faces. Instead, she listened to the click-clack of boots on the stone floor—hers and Ben’s. The tip-tap of Mom’s stilettos sounded silly in the enormity of the old building.

  Ben stepped in front of them to allow a pack of three girls, led by the blond from the bathroom, to pass in the other direction.

  Mom tugged at Olivia’s hand. “You’re being so rude.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Mom, shh.” Olivia peeked back at the girls. The two followers were giggling—at her, most likely. How embarrassing. Then her eyes locked with the leader of the pack. Her ponytail had swung around and hung down her front like Lady Godiva. But it was those brown eyes that caught Olivia’s attention. They were full of anger. For what? Olivia hadn’t done anything to her except try to help. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault that she’d been crying. From the way it looked in the bathroom, someone had hurt her pretty badly. And it sure wasn’t Olivia.

  Just as quickly as the hate flashed in her eyes, it disappeared. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and pranced away, the other two close at her heels.

  “Here we are.” Ben opened the door and ushered them into the noisy room. He waved at the dozens of girls who shouted a cheery greeting to him. At least he seemed well liked—unless something in the water made them act like zombies.

  Ben steered them to the cafeteria line where he handed them each a plate. Mom went right for the salad bar. Olivia hung back and surveyed the room. Clusters of four to six teenage girls of every size, shape, and ethnicity shared the tables. Some eyed her suspiciously, some just looked on in interest, some completely ignored her. Those were the ones who made her nervous.

  Ben helped her select some food and then walked her to a table of three of the most blatant ignorers who hadn’t even glanced at her yet. He set down her tray in front of an empty seat and slid the chair back for her to sit down.

  Great. Could he make this any more awkward?

  “Just enjoy yourself here with the girls, Olivia. Your mom and I are going to talk privately over dinner.” Ben smiled at each girl. “Introduce yourselves and make our guest feel welcome, okay?”

  Were grown-ups always so clueless?

  “So. Whatchu in for?” A tiny girl with a thick Spanish accent chewed on a toothpick and narrowed her eyes to suspicious slits.

  Was she serious? “Excuse me? I’m not in for anything.”

  “Ju-Ju. Come on. Give her a break.” A beautiful girl—like an African princess—turned to Olivia. “I’m Tricia. What’s your name?” Rather than reaching out for a handshake, she took a bite of her lasagna.

  “I’m Olivia. It’s nice to meet you, Tricia.” With the emphasis on Tricia. She turned to Ju-Ju and smirked. “I’m not in for anything. In fact, I’m going home tomorrow.”

  “You’ll be back.” A pretty girl with long shiny brown hair and sparkly blue eyes spoke with confidence. “I’m Skye.” She reached out her hand.

  Olivia accepted the handshake. “No, I’m quite sure I won’t be back.” What did Skye know anyway? Olivia blew on her french onion soup.

  Tricia, Skye, and Ju-Ju looked from one to the other like they shared a secret. “It’s too late. You’ve fallen under the spell.” Skye wiggled her fingers like a magician as she spoke.

  “The spell?” The place got creepier every minute.

  “God’s will is like a spell. You’re on the path, and He ain’t about to let you go now. You might as well not fight it.” Skye chuckled. “Unfortunately for the three of us … we had to learn the hard way.”

  “Got that right.” Tricia’s eyes clouded over as she looked out the window. “If only I’d known then what I know—”

  Ju-Ju snorted. “Oh, get real. Like either of you would have done a single thing differently. You”—she pointed at Tricia—”wanted the boys’ attention a little too much, and you’d have done anything to get it. And you”—Ju-Ju jerked her thumb at Skye—”hated your preacher papa too much and would do anything to get back at him. You were both going down no matter what.” She shrugged. “So what? You’re here now, and she’s going home. But she’ll be back soon.” She gestured toward Olivia. “After Diablo does a lit
tle more work on her.”

  Tricia shuddered. “You say that so coldly … so matter-of-factly. Like it’s not important.”

  “It doesn’t really matter though, does it?” Ju-Ju shrugged again. “La chica could change her mind, beg to stay … but she won’t. Which is fine. It’s her journey. But mark my words”—Ju-Ju pointed at Olivia—”you’ll be back.”

  Over my dead body.

  Chapter 11

  This party’s a bust. We’re out of here.” Jordyn’s blood-red eyes shot daggers toward her boyfriend who stood across the room, flirting with another girl. She jerked Olivia away from a pot-smoking cluster where she’d just taken a huge hit. “Brett’s being such a jerk. I’m totally through with him, and I want to leave right now.” Jordyn stormed toward the front door.

  Olivia nodded and followed, holding in her breath for as long as she could. When she ran out of oxygen, she blew the smoke from her lungs and gasped for fresh air. “Hold it a sec. Where’s Bailey?” Olivia searched the faces in the dark room, hoping Bailey might be in better condition to drive than Jordyn seemed. Olivia obviously had no business getting behind the wheel either.

  “She’s not coming. She said she’s staying over with Aaron.” Jordyn scowled. “Right there’s another couple who should break up. Like Aaron isn’t cheating on her. Please. I’m through with men—I guess Bailey’ll have to find out the hard way that they aren’t worth her time.” Jordan tripped over the threshold of the front door and stumbled out onto the porch. The heel of her right shoe snapped off and flew into the bushes. She clutched the railing until she steadied herself.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Olivia watched Jordyn’s unsteady swagger down the driveway. Not good. “We could always call a cab.”

  “No. There’s no way I’m leaving my car here overnight. That would mean I’d have to deal with Brett tomorrow when I came to pick it up. No thank you.” Jordyn waved a hand back and forth. “Besides, what would we tell our parents if we got dropped off in a taxi?” She shook her arms and jumped up and down a few times. “I’ll just suck it up. It’ll be fine. Not like it’s the first time I’ve driven after a few drinks.” She almost toppled over as she climbed into the driver’s seat and pressed a button, trying to unlock the door for Olivia, but the window buzzed down instead. And then back up. It took her three tries to find the right one to pop the lock.