Читать книгу Trusting Him - Brenda Minton - Страница 9

Chapter Four

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Michael left church on Sunday afternoon without being caught by any well-meaning parishioners or Maggie. He needed to get away, to escape the prying eyes that watched with open curiosity. And after the way their conversation had ended yesterday, he didn’t want to talk to Maggie.

What he didn’t need was company. The car parked in his driveway came as a surprise and a letdown. He felt his insides tighten at the thought of company, another person wanting to see how he was doing.

The door of the convertible opened and a man stepped out. Michael pulled up next to the car, finding a smile for Jimmy Grey, a longtime friend, and someone he hadn’t seen in four long years. Jimmy had been one of the few friends who had written letters.

“About time you got home.” Jimmy flashed his big smile. His curly blond hair was cut short, keeping the curls in control to some degree.

“I was at church.”

“Oh, yes, the newly reformed Michael Carson. I like it.” Jimmy’s hand extended. “It looks good on you, man. I guess a little religion never hurt anyone.”

“It sure wouldn’t hurt you.” Michael moved back and leaned against the side of Jimmy’s convertible.

“No, it wouldn’t hurt. So, tell me, how are you and were you ever going to call me?”

Michael fished his keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go inside. I’m starving, and I could use a cup of coffee.”

“You’re actually living here?” Jimmy nodded toward the sixty-foot-long, single-wide mobile home with its small front porch and metal siding.

“I like it. I might see if the church will sell it to me. I wouldn’t mind building a house out here someday.”

“Funny, ten years ago I wouldn’t have seen us here with me as the good one.”

Michael laughed, knowing that Jimmy didn’t mean anything by that. If anything, he agreed. Jimmy had always been the rebellious one. Michael, unfortunately, had been the one who’d made the wrong choice. No excuses. He’d messed up. He’d paid. He didn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

“I’m glad you came out, even if you weren’t invited.” Michael unlocked the front door and motioned Jimmy inside.

“Good grief, is that a rat?” Jimmy stepped to the side in time for Michael to see the mouse run under the couch.

“Just a mouse, but he’s pretty good company. He doesn’t eat much, he never talks and he doesn’t hog the bathroom.”

Jimmy glanced back, shaking his head. “You’re a strange dude. So, have you seen Katherine?”

It had to come up. “No, and I don’t plan on seeing her. That part of my life is in the past. We were never in love. We were just cohorts, hiding our drug use from our parents. I can’t let myself get pulled back into that codependency.”

“I guess that’s probably true. And she is seriously in trouble. She’s down to about a hundred pounds. Her parents are finally starting to get that she has a problem.”

“My mom still thinks she’s just thin, and I should give her a call.”

“I’m not sure if you should.”

Michael nodded as he pulled lunch meat and cheese out of the fridge. “Do you want mayo or mustard?”

“Neither. Do you have a tomato in there?”

“Do you think this is a restaurant?”

They were sitting on the back deck eating their sandwiches when Michael worked up the courage to do what he had been putting off. He could have said it in a letter. That didn’t seem right.

“Jimmy, I need to apologize to you.”

Jimmy dropped his feet from the railing to the floor of the deck and tossed the last corner of his bread into the yard. “Why do you think you need to apologize to me?”

“It’s time for me to make amends to the people I hurt. When we were roommates in college, I stole quite a bit of money from you. Dad had cut me off. I needed a fix, and I didn’t care who I had to hurt to get it.”

“Shoot, Michael, I knew you did that. I forgave you a long time ago.”

“Yes, but I need to apologize, because I need to start forgiving myself. I probably owe you about five hundred dollars.”

“Forget it.”

“No.” Michael stood and leaned against the deck so that he could face his friend. “I have to do this. Tomorrow I’m going to get the cash and bring it to you.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, why don’t you put the money in the offering plate? I don’t need it and I don’t want it. Don’t soothe your conscience by doing something that I don’t want you to do. I’m not mad, and I’ll only be mad if you try to pay me back.”

“I have to do this.”

“You have to make amends? Yeah, okay, so make amends. Is that why you’re working at the church? Are you making amends to God, too?”

“No, that’s something else. I know that people are going to think that, but it isn’t about making amends. I really feel like this is something I’m supposed to do.”

Jimmy stood, patted Michael on the back and headed for the door. “I’m glad to hear that. I don’t want to think you’re brainwashed.”

“It’s church, Jim, not a cult.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you know church has never been my thing.”

“I know it hasn’t. But if it hadn’t been for God, I wouldn’t have survived the last four years. I probably wouldn’t have survived the four years before that, either.”

“Probably not.” Jimmy stopped in the center of the kitchen, looking distinctly uncomfortable with the “God” talk. “I need to go. Dad needs some help with things around the house.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Fine. The Alzheimer’s is in the early stages, so he’s still Dad. I know that will change in the next few years.”

“Jimmy, if you need anything, I’m here.”

He smiled. “You know, Mike, it’s good to hear that. I’ve missed you. Not just for the last four years, but before that. You were gone for a long time.”

Eight years of his life, gone. Four years to meth and four to prison. But it wasn’t just about the lost years. It was more about lost friendships, lost experiences and lost trust. He couldn’t get back what was lost, including those eight years, but he could definitely make the next eight years count.

Or he could mess up. Maybe being aware of that fact would help him to be stronger.

May fifteenth. Only two more weeks of school. Maggie relished the thought, knowing it meant no more homework for the kids or for her. Algebra was so not her thing. Which explained why she had escaped for a few minutes of fresh air while the kids played darts or went out back for a game of basketball.

She absently rubbed the soft ears of the black Labrador sitting next to her. The animal looked up with sad brown eyes. He belonged to one of the neighbors, but he liked the attention and the leftovers the kids gave him.

A flash of red pulled her attention away from the dog and to the intersection a block away. Michael Carson. She hadn’t expected him today. He had stopped by a couple of times a week, slowly introducing himself to the kids and getting to know the routine. He had been distant, sharing little of his new life with her. But on Sunday night the elders had given him permission to become a real part of the team.

Michael stepped out of the car and waved. His boyish grin flashed brightly on his tanned face. Maggie’s gaze traveled down, taking in the T-shirt that stretched across athletic shoulders and the faded jeans that looked worn and comfortable. She pulled on a cloak of detachment that would make it easier to deal with him. The dog pushed against her leg, snarling softly at the new arrival.

“Are you out here waiting for me?” He held his hand out to the dog, who sniffed and then licked, having decided the stranger could be a friend.

Stupid mutt. Who said dogs were a good judge of character?

“No, I wasn’t waiting, just getting fresh air. I hadn’t really expected you today.”

“Yes, well, I had to leave work early, so I thought I might as well swing by here.”

“Had to leave work early?” She grimaced as the question came out. “Sorry, none of my business.”

The lines of his mouth tightened into what wasn’t exactly the carefree smile she had noticed when he’d first stepped out of the car. He sat next to her on the steps. The dog switched sides and nudged into his arm.

“You know, my life is a continuous learning experience, with a lot of lovely surprises thrown in along the way.”

“Really.”

He stroked the dog’s head and in turn the animal licked his hand. “You don’t really want to hear this, do you?”

“I do, but I don’t know how much you want to share.”

“Thanks, because this isn’t something that my parents want to hear. They would like to think that everything is perfect.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I got called in for a random drug test by my probation officer.” He looked up, his eyes connecting with hers, seeking something. Understanding maybe? Or compassion? She breathed in, not sure which response to give.

“Is that standard?”

“Or do they suspect me of something?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, it isn’t your fault. Yes, it is standard. Somehow I pushed it to the back of my mind. But today it happened.”

“How did it go?” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to ask the right question or give the correct response for this.”

“Join the crowd. This isn’t exactly something I planned for my life. And I doubt that you thought you’d be thrown into the role of supporting someone who is going through this.”

“So, we’ll get through it together.” The words slipped out and once again she knew she’d said the wrong thing. But this time for a different reason. She couldn’t be the one getting him through this. She had already tried that. She had been the supporting one, trying to help her mother.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold you to that. But I appreciate you listening to me.” He stood and reached for her hand to pull her to her feet. “And in case you’re wondering and you’re too polite to ask—I’m clean.”

“I know that.”

“So, let’s go tell the kids the truth about my life.”

She stood and turned to walk up the stairs. On the last step she stopped and waited for him to join her. He hadn’t moved. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’m ready.”

The shuttered look that fell over his expression closed her out. That was fine. She didn’t mind being closed out. It meant she didn’t have to get involved. Of course, it felt as though she was already pretty involved.

“If you’re sure.”

“Of course I’m sure. Just a moment of doubt.”

“We all have those.”

“You’re right.” He took the steps two at a time and passed her. When he reached the door he opened it, motioning for her to enter first. “After you.”

End of conversation, just like that. Maggie let it go. She had a group of kids waiting for her. They were her ministry—not Michael.

The kids were behind the church playing basketball. Michael followed Maggie out the back door. As they stepped outside, she turned, offering him a smile that she probably meant to be encouraging. He didn’t feel encouraged. He had dropped by to visit the kids from time to time; he and Chance had connected, but this time it felt different. This was a step forward. This meant really immersing himself in this ministry.

It also meant that he now had to be up front with the kids. They needed to know the truth, the whole truth, before they heard rumors and invented their own stories about his life.

“Hey, guys, let’s all sit down on the picnic tables.” Maggie’s voice grabbed the attention of the kids. The ball dropped to the court, to be picked up by Chance. The huddle of kids climbed on the tables, watching expectantly.

They were looking at him.

Maggie reached behind her, grabbing his hand to pull him forward. “Michael Carson is going to start joining us on a regular basis next week. He’ll be here at least three afternoons a week, and he’ll help us on different weekend activities.”

The enormity of his commitment hit home. Doubts whirled around inside him, calling him a fraud and making him question if he had the ability. What if he let them all down?

“Hi, guys.” He stepped forward. Maggie’s hand dropped from his arm. He hadn’t realized until it was no longer there how much that touch had meant to him. “I guess I’ve met most of you, so today isn’t as much about introductions as it is about getting real.”

Maggie moved from his side. She took a seat at the picnic table, next to one of the girls, and nodded for him to continue. His gaze remained locked with hers.

“Most of you probably know that I’ve been in prison for the past four years.” He grinned and Maggie responded with a smile that settled in her blue eyes. “I guess I can start by saying that I’m an addict. I’m also a Christian. I’ve been clean for four years, and I plan to stay that way.”

The kids remained quiet. There were nine of them today. They were an odd assortment. One girl looked to be fourteen. She had wire-framed glasses and a soft expression. Timid. But she looked happy. Another girl had dyed her hair black, and her gaze seemed to dare him. The boys—most were sweaty teens who wanted to play basketball and chase girls. One boy looked wary and angry with the world.

They wore expressions that ranged from contented to hopeless to lost and angry. From Jesus Saves to I Hate My Life, like the carvings on the desk in Maggie’s office.

He understood those feelings. He had gone from one extreme to the other. Maggie’s encouraging smile brought him back to the present. He smiled down at her, ignoring the array of questions flashing through her eyes.

“If any of you have questions, I’m willing to give you the answers that I can. If I can’t answer, I’ll tell you why. If you don’t have questions today, then maybe tomorrow. Or next week. But I’m always here if you need to talk, if you need anything.”

Always here. He realized the importance of those words. Other people were counting on him. Maggie. She was counting on him, too.

The boy with the lost look shook his head. Michael waited, wondering what he would say, if he would say anything.

“Whatever, man,” the kid whispered. He glared at the table, his jaw muscles clenching.

“Whatever?” Michael took a step forward, stopping when he saw the worried look on Maggie’s face. “What does that mean?”

“It means that adults always say they’re going to ‘be there for you.’ But most of them aren’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael was. He was more sorry than he could say that this kid felt that people weren’t there for him. What had happened to create cynicism in someone so young, with so much life ahead of him? “I can’t help what other people have done. But I can tell you that I’m going to be here. And I think that you already know that Maggie is here. She’s always here.”

The kid glanced in Maggie’s direction. He sort of smiled. “Yeah, she’s here.”

Michael didn’t know what that meant, but it frightened him for Maggie’s sake.

The last kid left at six o’clock. Maggie did a final check of the building and walked back to the kitchen where Michael waited for her. She held up her keys.

“Are you ready to go?”

“More than ready. That was more exhausting than I ever imagined. And those guys can really play ball.”

“You’ll get used to it. And don’t forget about Friday night.”

“Friday night?” The puzzled look told her he’d already forgotten.

“Bowling. We try to have a regular activity at least twice a month on Fridays. This Friday is bowling, and I thought you might like to go. Look, if you have something else to do…”

“No, I’ll be here.”

She shrugged and he followed her out the back door. His cell phone rang as she was locking up. As hard as she tried to ignore him, his conversation carried.

“I don’t think I can see you. But if you need help, I’m here.” He looked away, his brow furrowing. “No, I don’t think so. Katherine, it isn’t too late.”

Maggie walked on to her car.

“Wait.” Michael jogged up to her as she was digging through her purse, looking for her keys. “Sorry, I had to take that call. It was an old friend. One that I can’t help.”

“You don’t have to explain to me.”

“I wasn’t explaining, I was just talking. I grew up with Katherine. Now she’s in a place where I don’t know how to help her.” He looked away, but when he turned, his smile was back in place. “Are you going home, or do you want to grab something to eat?”

“I’m going home. I have to help my grandmother with the yard.”

“I see. Yes, I guess I should head home, too. I keep forgetting that I have a lawn to mow.”

“See you Friday, then.” She reached for her door handle, but his hand shot out, circling her wrist. When she glanced over her shoulder, his hand dropped to his side. “What?”

“Maggie, the boy with the glasses, the one who doesn’t think he can count on anyone. Be careful of him, okay?”

“What?”

“Be careful. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being overly cautious.”

“You are. And don’t worry, I am careful.” She opened the door and slid behind the wheel. “Friday, Michael. Don’t forget.”

He was still standing in the parking lot when she pulled onto the street. His cell phone was to his ear. She couldn’t help but wonder who he was talking to and if he was falling back into old habits.

“Vince called again.” Michael opened the front door for his brother. It was Thursday and he’d just had his second meeting with his probation officer. That should have been enough stress for one day. If only that could be the end of it. “I’m not sure if I can take this.”

“You have to decide.” Noah pulled off his black-framed glasses and slipped them into the collar of his shirt. “Nobody is going to force you. If you want to call Officer Conway and talk to him, do. If you don’t, then hang up when Vince calls. Get your number switched to unlisted.”

All good points. Michael tossed a crumb of bread into the corner of the room and avoided Noah’s questioning look. “It’s for the mouse.”

“I don’t think I want to hear this.”

“Probably not.”

“Why don’t you get a dog? Normal people have dogs.”

“The mouse doesn’t eat as much.”

Noah walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of tea. “Michael, make a decision.”

“I have an NA meeting tonight.” Michael had survived the kids. Narcotics Anonymous, his first meeting, sounded simple after a dozen or so teenagers.

“Michael, you can’t discuss this at NA.”

“I know that.” He brushed a hand across his face. When he looked up, Noah was at the door. He never stayed for long. “I think I can do it. The next time Vince calls, I’ll talk to him. He says I owe him money. He’s trying to use that on me.”

“So let him. Use it as a way to get in. As an informant, the police want one thing from you. They want names. You’re the only one who can decide what you want to do about this.”

“What I want to do?” He sat in the sideways-tilting recliner. “I want to move past this. I want for this to not be my life.”

For a minute Noah’s expression softened. “I know. Remember, someday this will be the past. Right now you have to concentrate on what has to be done. Get it over with so that you can move on. Make the move into Vince’s life, Michael.”

Noah made it sound so easy, like something that people did on a daily basis. But who really went out of their way to make a deal with the devil?

Trusting Him

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