Any Dream Will Do

Lloyd counted the money from the collection basket and readied the bank deposit for Monday morning.

Uncrossing my arms, I grew still and struggled to hide my defensive posture. “Why are you surprised, Alex?”

The head elder clenched his hands into tight fists, clearly uncomfortable and irritated. “It isn’t a secret that Shay went to prison for embezzlement.”

“She’s never tried to hide it,” I reminded him.

Alex gestured with his hands. “Most churches wouldn’t ask someone with that kind of history to count and deposit donations.”

“Were you aware that Hope Center plans to hire Shay as their bookkeeper?” I asked him. This was my way of letting him know that Hope Center trusted Shay and I didn’t feel we could do any less.

Alex nodded. “I heard. But bookkeeping is a bit less tempting than dealing with cash on hand, don’t you think?”

“What are you saying, Alex?” I asked, growing tired of this discussion.

He exhaled and pinched his lips together before he spoke. “Pastor, I am concerned for Shay, fearing she is being put in a position of temptation.”

“Shay would never steal from the church.” I would stake my retirement fund on it. “The only reason she stole the money was to save her brother.”

Alex nodded. “Her brother is in trouble again, isn’t he?”

It was hard for me to control my patience. “Yes, but Shay has no contact with him. Alex, please, what’s your point? My family is waiting.”

With a look of deep concern, he edged toward me. “Last week before the collection was given to Shay to count out for the bank deposit, I added up the cash donation myself.”

Cash wasn’t uncommon, but most parishioners contributed to the church either online or by writing a check. The cash donations generally came in small bills.

“And?” I asked, seeing that there was obviously more Alex had to tell me.

“It came to three hundred and twenty-five dollars in cash.”

“And?”

“The deposit slip showed only three hundred dollars. Twenty-five dollars was missing.”

“You could have easily added the amount incorrectly,” I insisted.

“I thought the same thing,” Alex agreed. “I wrote it off as a problem with my addition. Twenty-five dollars isn’t a large amount. However, to err on the side of caution, I decided that I would do the same thing this week.”

“Without Shay knowing what you were doing?”

“Correct.”

“And?” From the flow of this conversation, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was about to tell me.

“There was a hundred-dollar discrepancy.”

My heart fell and I closed my eyes while I struggled to find a plausible explanation. “The elders gather the collection plates,” I offered, although there wasn’t one I wouldn’t trust with my life. I’d known these men and women for the entire time I’d been at Seattle Calvary and found them completely trustworthy.

“Unfortunately—or fortunately, as the case may be—I was extra-careful to keep tabs on the money collected today. The only person who had access to the cash is Shay.”

“You’re sure?” I had a hard time believing it.

“Positive.”

With nothing more to say, I nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

Alex reached out and touched my sleeve. “Drew, I really didn’t want to be the one to tell you this. It hurts me, knowing how much faith you’ve put in her. I know you have strong feelings for Shay.”

“I do.”

To his credit, Alex looked utterly miserable. “I’m sorry.”

As best I could, I accepted his apology. I’d take a day to mull this over before I confronted Shay. While everything within me screamed she would never steal from the church, I also knew Alex wouldn’t stoop to lying about something this serious.

To complicate matters, Shay was at the house with the children. It had become part of our routine for her to join Mark, Sarah, and me for Sunday dinner.

My thoughts were heavy as I walked toward the house, my steps slowing with regret and worry as I approached.

Sarah had the door open even before I got to the porch. “We’ve been waiting and waiting.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, I had a quick business meeting.” I kissed the top of her head as I entered the house.

“I’m hungry and so is Shay.”

“Where’s Mark?” I asked. Generally he was one of the first to the table. He’d been going through a growing spurt and seemed to be hungry all the time.

“In his room. I don’t think he’s feeling well,” Shay told me.

Welcoming the excuse to escape for a few minutes, I sought out my son. Sure enough, he was lying on top of his bed, looking miserable. I sat on the edge of his mattress and pressed my hand over his forehead. “You feeling sick, buddy?”

“Yeah.” If he wasn’t playing his videogame or had his face stuck in his iPad, I knew something was wrong.

He didn’t feel feverish. “Upset stomach?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. It’s cramping. You aren’t going to force me to eat chicken noodle soup, are you?”

“Not unless that’s what you want.”

“I’d rather stay here and sleep, if that’s all right.”

“Sure. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Although Mark was at the age where he didn’t appreciate displays of affection from his father, I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“Dad,” Mark groaned. “I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me,” I said, struggling not to smile. His grandmother had knit him an afghan that was neatly folded at the foot of his bed. I reached for it and pulled it up over Mark’s shoulders. As soon as the knitted piece settled over him, Mark’s eyes drifted shut.

I closed the door as I left his room.

“Is Mark okay?” Shay asked as she finished dishing up the pot roast and potatoes with carrots.

“He might be coming down with something. He wants to sleep, and I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Shay carried the platter over to the table and sat down with Sarah on one side and me on the other. She automatically stretched out her arms for the three of us to link hands while I said the blessing.

For a moment, my words faltered before I could continue. When I finished, I opened my eyes and looked at Shay.

She must have noticed my scrutiny because she caught my eye and smiled softly. Looking at her now, so breathtakingly lovely, I found it hard to look away. It seemed impossible to believe she would steal from the church. Steal from me. Surely she understood what that would do to our relationship.

Although dinner was cooked to perfection, I had little to no appetite. Sarah insisted she play a game of Yahtzee with Shay after we finished with the meal. I was grateful, unsure if I would be able to keep up the pretense that nothing was wrong much longer.

“I’ll do the dishes,” I volunteered.

“We should all help,” Shay suggested.

“Dishes?” Sarah moaned as if I’d asked her to clear the church parking lot of snow with a single shovel. “Daddy, please. I’ve been wanting to play Yahtzee forever, but Shay said we had to wait until after dinner.”

“It’s fine,” I insisted. “I’ll do the dishes.”

Shay and Sarah played the dice game and I used the time stacking dishes in the dishwasher as an excuse to avoid talking to Shay.

She noticed, though. I knew she would. I’d never been good at hiding my feelings.

After I finished the dishes, I checked on Mark and wasn’t surprised to find him asleep. If he wasn’t feeling better in the morning, I’d keep him home from school. I left my son’s bedroom and carefully closed the door so I wouldn’t wake him. I found Shay standing behind me in the long hallway.

“Mark’s sleeping,” I whispered.

Shay’s gaze held mine. “Any problems over at the church?” she asked.

Her question left me wondering if she knew about the missing money. Made me wonder why she hadn’t mentioned it.