The signs are all there… but why are they pointing in all different directions?
Casey Campbell’s sophomore year is ending, and an exciting summer break is just ahead. Pool time, hanging out with friends old and new, spending more time with a certain chemistry lab partner – all are on the agenda! And oh yeah, a Driver’s Ed course. That will be a breeze, right?
But as usual, there are always bumps in the road. Will Casey’s newly formed step-family survive a surprise visitor from the past? How should she support a friend who confides a serious, secret heartache? Is Casey’s crush actually interested in someone else?
And then…
How can you even really know if God is real?
Join Casey as she navigates her summer (in her step-brothers’ old car, of course) and figures out what signs to follow… and which to question.
"Follow The Signs" is the third book in the High School 101 Series.
This particular book deals with discussions about premarital sex, and mentions that marriage is intended between a man and woman. The story and content is handled in an honest yet compassionate way and does not contain graphic descriptions or anything that I would not allow my own teen or tween to read. In addition, grief and depression are discussed in relation to a mother abandoning her family, part of an ongoing story line. As always, topics are addressed from a Christian perspective.
My favorite part is the deepening of relationships between the characters and delving into more of their histories, fleshing them out a bit. I hope that readers will see God as more than just a giver of "do's and don'ts", and perceive the love behind His commands.
Chapter 3 – Road Work Ahead
Roads do not upgrade or maintain themselves. Bridges do not repair themselves or rebuild themselves. -
Martin O'Malley
“She just left one day,” James said simply. “Jackson and I came home from school, and the babysitter was there with Jefferson as usual. He was only two.”
She abandoned her two-year-old with a babysitter, with no warning? I did the math- James would have been about ten years old, and Jackson would have been nine.
“Mom usually didn’t get home from her job until after five anyway. When she was late, our sitter tried to call her and left messages, but Mom never called back. So the sitter called my dad, and he came right home. When he walked into their bedroom, he found the note.”
James continued talking, his voice a monotone and devoid of any expression, as if he had rehearsed this story repeatedly and was tired of telling it. I sat and listened, as still as a stone.
“I didn’t know about the note for years”, James said. “Dad didn’t want to burden a kid with information I couldn’t understand. But she apparently said she couldn’t handle the expectations in her life anymore, and that our family was better off without her, stuff like that. She said she would stay in touch.”
Harrison did stay in touch with Nicole, begging her to come back home, promising her whatever help she needed. She had struggled with depression for a long time.
“But in the meantime, Dad had three young boys to care for, and he did the best he could. My Grandma Marie, his mother, came and lived with us for three years, until Jeff started kindergarten.” He shook his head, smiling slightly. “Grandma put her own life on hold to help us. She had a boyfriend all that time who was wanting to marry her, but she wouldn’t do it until she was convinced us boys were all settled. Dad had to practically evict her.”
I remembered meeting Grandma Marie and her “new” husband at Mom and Harrison’s wedding last December. She had seemed really nice, but now I had a whole new respect for her.
“She’ll be at your graduation next week, right?” I asked.
“Oh, we’ll have a houseful,” James confirmed with a groan. “My mom’s parents will be here, too. We don’t see them very often, maybe one weekend a year, and then I have a few aunts, uncles, and cousins you haven’t met yet, who are coming. And my mother, apparently.” For the first time, his tone was faintly bitter.
“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked, cautiously.
This time the acid in his voice was crystal clear. “The last time I’ve seen my mother? I’ve watched her faithfully once a year on my birthday, on video calls. She hasn’t had the time or the ability to actually come and see any of us, face to face, in about eight years. Eight. Years.”
I let my mind absorb that fact. The missed holidays, the bedtime stories, the ordinary routines of a family with young kids and teenagers, just…abandoned.
“And now she decides it’s time to invite us back into her life? After all these years, when we needed her so desperately? She doesn’t have any idea of the hell she caused for my dad. And for me, Jackson, and Jefferson, her sons”, he spat out. “No. Idea. If she wants to make her grand appearance now, at a family event, for the family she bailed on years ago, then fine, she can do whatever she wants. But I won’t spend time with her.” He paused. “Or maybe I just can’t. Not yet. Maybe never.”
I looked over at James. It was hard to see his face that well in the dark, though the porch light helped a little. His words were angry, so harsh. But it was the look on his face that tore my heart up.
It was the expression of a little boy’s grief, still recognizable on the face of a young man.