Rebecca looked over the invitation samples Ben spread out on Jerry’s desk. They were fairly standard invites, though each included a slightly different wording that drew attention to the problem of food insecurity in the U.S. and Washington, D.C. in particular.

“Where’d you get these numbers?” She tapped the statistics on the paper.

Ben arched an eyebrow. “I do a lot of research in my job. Adding on those stats was a pretty simple thing. There are national organizations out there that focus on inward reaching hunger abatement, you know. It’s not all up to grassroots projects like the mission.”

Rebecca bristled. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’m just surprised...”

“That I have any idea about hunger and poverty that isn’t in Africa. Yes, you’ve made that clear. And I keep trying to tell you that I’m hoping to expand Bread of Heaven’s horizons and help others—including the people who work for us and our donors—realize that the problem is widespread and closer to home.”

“Why?”

Ben frowned. “Why what?”

Jerry cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but...can we just choose an invitation and whatever else needs to be done? I’d really like to get to the hospital. Melissa, the night manager is on her way and as soon as she gets here, I want to be ready to leave.”

Rebecca swallowed a snide retort for Ben. “Why don’t you go, Jerry? I can hold things down ‘til she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” Jerry opened a desk drawer and started tossing files from his desk into it.

“As long as you don’t mind me making the decisions for the open house.”

Jerry shook his head. “This was supposed to be all you anyway. You don’t mind, Ben?”

“Not if you don’t. I’m happy to run with things if you’ve all got too much going on here. I understand...”

“I want to be involved.” Rebecca put her hand on top of the invitations and managed a smile. Hopefully a sweet one. She still needed to hear his answer to her question, but that could wait a minute or two more until Jerry was on his way.

“Even better.” Ben returned her smile and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be praying for your god daughter, Jerry.”

“Thanks. I—we all—appreciate that. I’ll let you know if anything happens, Rebecca.” Jerry gave a terse nod and disappeared into the hall. He bid good night to the people he bumped into along the way, their brief conversations echoing into the office.

Ben cleared his throat. “Can we get back to the invitations?”

“No. I want to know why Bread of Heaven is doing this. They’ve been around for years and always focused on international aid, specifically in Africa. So why suddenly shift their focus?”

“Haven’t I gone over this with you already?” Ben combed a hand through his hair. “One, it’s not sudden. We’ve been partnering, mostly behind the scenes, with local food banks in major cities across the country for the past eighteen months. This is our first foray into a more visible partnership, I’ll grant you, but it’s not out of the blue. Two, we chose the mission because we’re based here in D.C. and we didn’t want to spend time and money flying to other cities. If our open house is a success here, then we might talk about expanding down the road, if we can get the volunteer force we need to make it work. Three, none of the above would apply if it wasn’t for me pushing to get this initiative started. I love that we’re making a difference internationally, but I drive through the city and see the many struggles of people who live less than forty miles away. How can I not want to help?”

Rebecca pressed her lips together. Could she believe him? “What about the money, the donors Bread of Heaven is hoping to gain from this? What if we lose donors to the mission because they catch a vision for international aid instead? We can’t afford to have that happen.”

Ben shrugged. “What about the Bread donors who realize they need to be making a difference at home and can only afford to support one charity? There’s a potential for both of us to lose. But I really believe that everyone is going to win.”

It was possible. But wasn’t it just as likely that the big, well-known group would win? Sure, Rebecca was the biggest donor to the mission, and she wasn’t planning on switching her donations, but the trust fund could only go so far, and there were so many people who needed help. Which meant that any additional donors would be worth having. She sighed. “All right. I guess we’re both going to have to trust God to provide.”

He smiled. “Right. He’s the only one who never lets us down. And since I firmly believe that both organizations are doing what He’d have us do, spreading salt and light in our own ways to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and even the ends of the earth, then it stands to reason that He’s going to equip us to do that work.”

Objections raced through her mind. It wasn’t as if everything always worked out perfectly for people who were trying to do God’s will. On the other hand, worrying about it didn’t fix anything. Trust. That was cropping up a lot these days. Trusting God wasn’t as hard to swallow as trusting Ben. Or her dad. One step at a time. “All right. What do we need to do next?”

“You’re all set.” The woman behind the desk at the animal shelter smiled and tapped the completed, and signed, paperwork together before filing it. “If you have any questions or need suggestions for a vet, that sort of thing, please give us a call. Don’t be surprised if it takes a week or two for them to settle in.”

Rebecca peered in the cat carrier where two six-month-old kittens were curled together, resting. “Thanks. Come on you two, let’s head home. I hope you’ll like all the presents I got for you.”

The woman’s chuckle followed Rebecca through the door. She set the carrier on the seat and frowned. Would it slide off if she had to stop suddenly? She didn’t want the darlings to go flying. There wasn’t much room between the backseat and the front but...she tugged the seatbelt down and around the carrier. That should help.

She shut the door and slid behind the wheel. “All right Lucy, Mr. Tumnus, let’s...”

Her phone rang and she sighed as she shifted back into park. No sense driving while on the phone if she didn’t have to.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Ben. Is this a bad time?”

Was it a bad time? She couldn’t honestly say yes. But she wasn’t ready to talk to him. Last night at the mission had been all business and, as such, straightforward. But if he was calling on a Saturday morning...that had to be personal, didn’t it? “No. Not really. I just picked up two kittens from the animal shelter and was getting ready to take them home.”

“Ah. Did...do you have plans for the rest of the day?”

“Just spending time with the cats, watching them acclimate. That kind of thing. Why?”

“I was hoping you might be interested in getting together. We could go for a walk or to dinner. Just friends, hanging out.”

“Are we friends, Ben?” Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut. What was she doing? Oh, to be able to pull those words back into her brain where they didn’t sound quite so stupid.

He sighed. “I hoped so. We were once. I’d like to be again. Is that possible?”

Friends. They had been friends. In love, yes. But also friends. And even without knowing the truth, they’d had a deep, solid friendship. For the summer. Would it have continued if they’d kept in touch? She wanted to say yes. So. “Yeah. Maybe it is. Look...I don’t know about leaving the cats alone on their first day. Do you want to come over?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll text you my address. Give me two hours?”

“Done. See you then. Thanks, Rebecca.”

She ended the call and banged her head on the steering wheel twice before shifting back into reverse. Maybe in two hours she could figure out how this was going to work.

Rebecca smoothed a hand over the light-weight lavender sweater she’d changed into. She’d resisted the urge to put on khakis, or something even dressier. This was friends hanging out. She didn’t need to dress up. But the holey long-sleeved t-shirt she’d worn to the animal shelter was too ratty even for Jen and Sara. She just hadn’t been sure how messy getting the cats into the carrier was going to be. It had been relatively anti-climactic.

Mr. Tumnus hopped down the stairs and scampered around her feet, batting at the frayed edges of her jeans. She laughed. Sweet little boy. She reached down, scooped him into her arms, and scrubbed his head. He gave a low, throaty purr. Lucy, the white patch of fur on her neck gleaming, ran through the room, skidding to a stop just before colliding into a wall. She let out an annoyed meow as she reversed direction. Mr. Tumnus squirmed and Rebecca let him jump down. He pounced on Lucy and the two tumbled together across the living room as the doorbell rang.

Rebecca pressed a hand into her stomach. Friends hanging out. Right. A memory of one of their kisses after the staff campfire ended flitted through her mind, setting her nerve endings on fire. They had chemistry, that was undeniable. But that was then. She pulled open the door and her mouth watered. A cornflower blue polo stretched across his toned shoulders and was tucked into jeans that fit like they’d been made specifically for him. Chemistry certainly wasn’t going to be a problem now, either. She cleared her throat. “Hi. Come on in.”

He grinned and slid his hands into his pockets as he followed her into the living room. “This is nice. Not too far from everything, but you’re also not in the thick of all the traffic all the time. You can probably even get to the grocery store without sitting through multiple traffic light cycles, can’t you?”

“Depends on which store I decide to go to. But sometimes, yeah.” Rebecca glanced around the room. Had it really been so long since she had guests that she’d lost the ability to be a hostess? “Um. Can I get you something to drink? Or snacks? I probably have some snacks.”

“I’m good. Thanks.” Ben’s gaze traveled around the room. “Can I meet the cats?”

“Oh. Um, sure. Though I’m not positive where they are. They were running around exploring a minute ago. I can go look for them?”

“Don’t do that. If I know cats, they’ll be running through here before too long and I’ll get to meet them then.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

Rebecca chuckled. “I’m nervous. I don’t know why, well, I do know why, but it’s silly. And now I’m rambling. I’ll stop.”

“Take a breath. Do you want to sit outside? You have a deck or something, right? Would that make you more comfortable? Or we could go for a walk around your neighborhood or head to the mall? I haven’t been to Springfield Mall in forever. Didn’t they just redo it?”

He was trying to put her at ease. It was helping. A little. “No, that’s silly. I do have a deck, but no furniture on it yet. I was hoping the end of season sales would finally have something that I liked and could afford. That combination is proving strangely elusive.”

Ben snickered. “No white plastic chairs from the nearest discount store for the low, low price of five dollars? That’s mostly what we have. And since they’re so cheap, when they inevitably break or get covered in that weird green not-quite-moss, not-quite-mold that happens to them, we don’t feel bad about sticking them on the curb for the recycling guy.”

“And that right there is the difference between men and women.” Rebecca shook her head and pointed to the couch. “You can sit, if you want. I didn’t mean to keep us standing here.”

Ben sat, stretching his leg so his knee was mostly straight, and sighed. “You mentioned you stopped running and said it was a long story...”

She pursed her lips. There was nothing inherently wrong with that story, though she’d leave out a few pieces. Like how it was a well-known fact that Becky MacDonald was a distance runner and so it was yet another thing that had to go. “It’s probably not as long as I made it out to be. I started developing stress fractures. I thought at first it was just shin splints. I tried different shoes, orthotics, you name it. I went to coaches and had my form evaluated, none of it helped. Finally got some x-rays done. I had to stop for several months and then eased back into things, but within six months, I was in agonizing pain again and the fractures were back. The doctor said I should consider giving it up. Do you still run?”

“No. I was never really a runner. I just wanted to hang out with you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I never would have guessed that. You always kept up fine. You’re joking with me, right?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t want to do anything that would make you think I was a wimp. So I pushed through it. Then when I’d go back to my cabin to shower, I’d stand under the hot water and try not to cry. It did get easier after the first month, but I never liked anything beyond it being time with you.”

Heat spread across her cheeks. He’d done that for her? “Oh. Well. Thanks.”

“Sure. And hey, now that neither of us run anymore, we can go for a not-run sometime.”

“I believe they call that a walk.”

He shrugged. “Tomato.”

“Potato.” She laughed. “I haven’t thought of that in years. I...oh, there’s Mr. Tumnus.”

The silver tabby bounded into the room and pounced on Ben’s leg. He laughed and reached down to tousle the kitten’s fur. “He’s adorable. But not a faun.”

“Yeah, well, he’s got those markings on the top of his head that look like little horns. It seemed to fit. Plus, I love Narnia. Just the idea that there’s a whole other world lurking in the back of a wardrobe, that Aslan might pull me into it at any point to come and help, or just be with him?”

Ben ran his hand down Mr. Tumnus’ back and up his tail. The cat purred before darting off again. He shook off the cat hair and wrinkled his nose. “Make sure you brush him or he’s going to get hairballs if he keeps shedding like that.”

“They mentioned that at the shelter. But apparently he loves to be brushed, so that’s good. The other is a tuxedo—she’s a little shier, so we might not see her. But I named her Lucy.”

“You had to, didn’t you? I mean, if you’ve got Tumnus, you must have Lucy. Then the two of them can sip tea while you’re away at work.”

She grinned. She’d missed this. Unlike the handful of other guys she’d dated, he’d always seemed to “get” her. “Exactly. You know what? Let’s go for that walk.”