Free The Beresfords by Christina Dudley Page A

could save up babysitting money this summer and buy my very own.
    Instead of picking up his box again and going inside, Jonathan took a seat on the steps. “Got a second, Frannie? I wanted to talk to you. You’ve always been my sounding board.”
    “Of course!” I plopped down beside him and hugged my knees to my chest, Walkmen and money and music forgotten.
    “How was babysitting?”
    “Fine. Everything went fine. What did you do the rest of the day?”
    “I went down and talked to Pastor Donald. Tammy’s interning in Children’s this summer, and I was wondering if he could use me somewhere.”
    I couldn’t prevent a little gasp. “You want to work in Children’s, too?” Had he prayed about God wanting him to marry Tammy and found out it was really the case?
    Jonathan gave me a curious look. “Not particularly. But what would be weird about that? You think you’re the only one who’s good with kids?”
    Trying not to sigh with relief, I collected myself. “No. You know I don’t think that at all. I just thought it would be weird if you wanted to work with Tammy, since you guys aren’t together anymore.” And since she turned out to be a freak, I added inwardly.
    “We’re still friends,” Jonathan said. He was watching me, and I wondered if a readout was going across my forehead like the ticker in Times Square: Yes, I crawled out on the roof yesterday night and overheard you talking to Tammy…and it was eavesdropping…and I am totally guilty…
    “Did—what did Pastor Donald say?” I asked, brushing a hand over my face.
    Jonathan looked away and stretched out his legs. “He asked what I was interested in, and I said helping out with the youth group. They always need extra sponsors for the activities and trips and stuff.”
    “Would Rachel and Julie like you there?”
    “I don’t think they would care. Rachel’s graduated, and Julie has her own group of friends. I’d be hanging with the guys, anyway. But Pastor Donald thought I was too young.”
    “What do you mean? Wouldn’t that make you perfect because you can still connect with them?”
    He grinned. “It was code. He was worried I would try to date the high school girls. We had to have a long talk about boundaries.”
    “Do you—want to date the high school girls?” I managed after a moment.
    “Frannie, what do you take me for? I want to volunteer, not make passes at teenagers.”
    “Oh.”
    “Anyhow, I convinced him I wouldn’t be a predator, so he’s good with that. My first assignment is to go to Price Club tomorrow and pick up food for the barbecue.”
    “But Uncle Paul said you and Tom would be working for him this summer, especially because he’s gone in China.”
    “Yeah…Tom’s the businessman. What Dad meant by that is lots of data-gathering and analysis by me while Tom lunches out with bigwigs. Not that I would want to switch roles! I figure I’ll put in twenty hours a week at Core-Pro and then I’m free to volunteer at church. It’s not like helping big companies outsource their manufacturing gets me up in the morning.” He waved this off. “Enough about all that. That isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.” Running a hand through his hair, he gathered his thoughts.
    “How do you like the Grants, Frannie?”
    With my mind full of Tammy, and Jonathan not wanting to date teenagers, this question caught me completely off guard. The case for the Imperials tape slipped from my fingers and bounced off the concrete step. “Oh! Oh—I hope I didn’t break it.”
    “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He brushed it off and laid it beside me, waiting for me to speak.
    “Tom seems to like them a lot,” I said at last. “And the girls think they’re cool. Well—I don’t know how Rachel feels about Eric Grant now, after he—”
    “I asked what you thought of them, Frannie.”
    I knew that. I swallowed. “I think…I think everything’s a joke to them.”
    “You mean to Eric.”
    “To both of them,” I