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Caitlyn
Caitlyn stood mesmerized, gazing at the sky. Kites of all shapes and colors, long tails streaming behind them, weaved through the clear blue sky over the lake. A panda swooped toward a butterfly. An octopus floated by, its eight legs waving beneath it. A stunt kite flew alone.
She glanced at Roland, who stood flying a kite beside her.
Gray eyes sparkling in the sunlight, he concentrated on working his kite up higher.
Contented, she sighed.
“Get your freaky brother out of my way!” Jarret shouted. “He’s gonna tangle up the kites.”
Caitlyn snapped from her trance and looked.
Toby, clutching the string of a huge orange fish kite, had come up behind Mya while Jarret was teaching her how to fly a kite. Toby had come up to everyone. And why not? They were all his kites anyway, sort of. Toby enjoyed flying kites, obsessively. So Mr. Brandt, the devoted father that he was, had accumulated a ridiculous amount of kites. Now Toby wanted to talk kites with everyone, but he paid little attention to kite strings.
After passing his box kite off to Dominic, Peter bolted across the field for Toby.
Roland looked, too, his dark brows knitting together. He was probably trying to decide if he needed to help. He and Jarret had been helping the whole time. Helping Mya that is.
Jarret left Mya and strutted back to Zoe. Zoe turned her back on him. He moved in front of her, but she turned again. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. She laughed and, eyes on her kite, got her feet back on the ground and pried his arms away.
Roland no sooner returned his gaze to his own kite when a shriek ripped through air. Mya’s shriek.
Roland shoved his kite string into Caitlyn’s hand and dashed for Mya.
Oh tragedy, Mya’s kite had crashed. Jarret ran to her, too.
A minute later, Zoe shuffled up beside Caitlyn, her eyes to the sky. “What are we going to do about that girl?”
Caitlyn sighed, watching Roland and Jarret argue with each other as they helped Mya with her kite. “I don’t know.”
“We need to fix her up with someone.” Zoe eyes narrowed in a calculating glare. “They’re actually fighting over who gets to help Mya.”
“Yeah. Maybe they’re just nice.” Caitlyn struggled with the kite strings, trying to keep hers and Roland’s good and tight.
“Someone else can be nice to Mya.”
“Hold this.” Caitlyn handed Zoe the spool of string for Roland’s kite and wound in her own.
“Who do we know that she could like?” Zoe said. “Not counting Roland and Jarret.”
Roland walked off from Mya and Jarret, cell phone to his ear. He headed for a picnic table in the shade at the edge of the field.
Caitlyn rolled her kite in faster, and it crashed to the ground.
Roland hadn’t noticed, but Jarret had done an about-face. Grinning, he strutted toward them.
Caitlyn took Roland’s spool from Zoe and strode out to meet Jarret.
“Here, hold this.” She slapped the spool into his hand and walked off, not giving him a chance to object.
Roland sat at a picnic table, facing the lake and deep in conversation with whoever had called him. He glanced as Caitlyn approached and nodded for her to join him.
She sat on the opposite end of the bench.
“. . . a miracle? A real miracle?” he said into the phone.
Caitlyn’s ears perked.
“Blood? Wow. Like real blood?” Roland leaned forward, resting the elbow of his phone arm on his thigh. “Jesus? Not some saint? Are you sure?”
Then he was quiet, just listening and giving an occasional uh-huh. Finally, he sat up and said, “I can’t believe you did that . . . No, not confession, the haircut . . . Of course, I won’t tell him . . . Yeah, yeah. I’ll try to get him to call you. Okay. Bye.” He leaned back against the picnic table and pressed a few buttons on his cell phone. Then his mouth fell open, and he sat staring at his phone.
Caitlyn scooted closer. “Are you okay? You look upset.”
“I’m not upset. It’s just . . . Look.” He turned his phone so she could see the screen. And the image of a handsome boy with a serious face and short dark hair. “That’s Keefe.”
“Keefe?” She squinted out at Jarret in the field. “I don’t remember him looking like that. I thought they were identical twins.” Examining the image again, she decided they did have the same long-lashed brown eyes, long nose, and strong jaw, though Keefe had a gentler, more mannered appearance. He also lacked the cocky sneer that Jarret always had, at least when talking to other guys.
“Yeah, they’re identical. He cut his hair.”
“Wow. He went from hair down to his shoulders to that?”
“Yeah.”
Caitlyn angled her body towards his, hoping she wasn’t about to be too bold. “I hadn’t meant to be listening in on your conversation, but I heard you say something about a miracle.”
He glanced then returned his gaze to the kites. “Yeah.”
“Were you talking to Keefe? Did he see a miracle?”
Roland nodded.
“What kind of a miracle? Can you tell me about it?”
He faced her. “I . . . don’t think so. I wouldn’t feel right about it. It’s not really my business to share. I . . . suppose you could ask Keefe when he gets back.”
As comfortable as she felt around Roland, his twin brothers made her nervous. She didn’t like the idea of asking either of them anything, but the urge to know gnawed at her. She had to find out. Miracles were meant to be shared. When her friend Dominic had been healed, no longer needing a wheelchair, it made her think about the relationship God wants with each person and the confidence everyone ought to have in Him. Somehow, she would ask Keefe about it when he returned.