The ice helped relieve the pain, but I wanted to check out the damage in a mirror. I cracked open the door to the dark bedroom, and I found Rusty, laying on her bed. She jumped up when she saw the bag of ice on my mouth.
“A ping-pong ball did that?” Rusty dug some sparkly, purple lip gloss out of her backpack. “Here, now nobody will know.”
I uncapped the gloss and spread it on my lips. It hurt a little when I rolled it over the bruise. “So, what have you been up to while I’ve been getting beat up by the Ping-Pong Champ of the World?”
Rusty sat back down on her bed and smiled. “Um . . . I just asked Jesus into my heart.”
“What?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And then, today, I heard what Diane said at the baptism, about how she used to think God didn’t like her very much.”
I plopped down on my bed and shook my head. “I know. How could she believe such a silly thing?”
Rusty stood up. “But Riley, that’s exactly what I always thought too, since my mom left and all.”
“Seriously?” I sat back up. “You thought that God didn’t like you?”
Rusty looked at me and nodded.
“Wait,” I said. “When did you do this?”
“When did I do what?” Rusty looked confused.
“Ask Jesus into your heart.”
“A little while ago. I was sitting in that beanbag chair over there, and —”
“I don’t think you can do that.”
“What?”
“Become a Christian while I’m playing ping-pong.”
Rusty crossed her arms. “Well, apparently I can, because I did.”
“But, I wasn’t here with you.”
“It’s okay, Riley. It was something I needed to do by myself. You’ve been here for me, and it’s because of you that I even heard about Jesus in the first place.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Rusty plunked down in the beanbag chair. “But I have to admit, I’ve been a little confused. Your family seems, well, perfect I guess, so I figured that Jesus wouldn’t be interested in a messed-up person like me.”
“You think our family is perfect? That’s funny. You have seen me and Brady fight, right?”
Rusty laughed. “Yeah.”
“And I get grouchy sometimes.”
Rusty held her hand up in the air. “Riley, I get it now. No one is perfect. And that’s why Jesus died — to take the punishment we each deserve for all of our sins.”
We both sat there, quiet for a moment. I lay down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. “So . . . you really asked him in? While I was playing ping-pong?”
“Yep. And now I really want to find my mom, so I can tell her about Jesus.”
I sat up, rubbed my lip, and looked down at my Riley Mae running shoes.
Maybe this contract thing wasn’t such a big mistake after all.
I thought about all that had happened to bring Rusty and me together as friends. It probably wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t started working for Swiftriver, which caused our softball team to need a shortstop to take my place. And before all the drama on Half Dome, I had been trying to figure out how to wear the “Good News Shoes” that the Bible teaches about in Ephesians 6:15 — and to share with Rusty how she could have peace with God through Jesus. But then the accident happened and we flew to Montana and everything got messed up.
Or did it?
Rusty stood up and came over to sit with me on my bed. “Riley? Will you help me find my mom?”
I smiled. I put my arm around Rusty and gave her a big squeeze. “Yeah. I don’t really know how yet, but yeah.”
God, please help me know what to do. Rusty needs her mom.
I thought about my own mom, and how she’s been there for me my whole life. Our hallway at home is filled with pictures of me and her every year on my first day of school — standing next to her police car, which also happened to be my ride.
That gave me an idea. “Hey Rusty, do you have a picture of your mom?”
“Just one.” Rusty unlatched a chain from around her neck. She pulled a locket out from under her shirt and opened it.
“You’ve had her picture with you this whole time? We can probably look her up on the Internet or something!”
Too bad the picture was so teeny. All I could make out was a person with reddish hair, holding a baby who must have been Rusty.
I squinted at the picture. “I can hardly see her face at all! This could be my mom. Or Fawn. Actually, if Matt grew his hair out a little more, it could be him.” I giggled. “Are you sure this isn’t your dad?”
Rusty grabbed the locket back from me. “Hey, quit making fun. It’s all I have.”
“I’m sorry. It’s a nice picture, but we have to find another one. Maybe you could ask your dad —”
“Nope. Not gonna do that.”
“Okay. Then we’ll have to find her another way.”
“I’ve been praying,” Rusty said.
“That’ll work.” I punched her in the arm and smiled. “Christian.”