Trusting Him

by Brenda Minton

  "I'm afraid we only have diet." She handed him a can and he took it.

  "It'll work."

  Maggie stood in front of the bench, not really sure what her next move should be. Her indecision caught his attention and he patted the spot next to him. That left her in a predicament. Sit next to him, or look further jerky and emotionally unstable.

  She sat next to him on top of the table. At least she could drink the soda and not concentrate on finding a topic of conversation they would both be comfortable with.

  "I like it here in Galloway. It's quiet and sometimes I forget that Springfield is just a traffic light away." Michael ended the silence. "And I really like living outside of town."

  "I've always lived here."

  "Really? Do you have your own place or do you live with your parents?"

  "I live with my grandmother." And she didn't want him to ask more than that. She knew he would. A quick glance in his direction and she saw the questions forming. "My mother passed away when I was in my early teens."

  "I see." But the tone, soft and a little distant, said that he didn't see. "And your dad?"

  She never had an answer for that question. Her dad, not in the real sense of the word, didn't exist. He didn't exist, had never wanted to be a part of her life, but yet he did inhabit her mind a lot. She thought of him, wondered about him and sometimes resented him.

  "Maggie?"

  "Sorry, I got lost in thought. No, I don't have a dad." She hated the word illegitimate, so she wouldn't use it. It made it sound like her life didn't count. And her life did count.

  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you to talk." He leaned back, looking up at the tree that spread like a leafy green umbrella over top of them. "I wanted to talk about something other than myself."

  "That's understandable. What happened?"

  He sat up, his eyes making direct contact with hers. He hadn't expected that question. She could see it in the widening of his eyes, that she'd taken him by surprise.

  "What do you mean?"

  She shrugged. "You left earlier, but now you're back, and I think that racquetball game was more than an exercise routine. It looked a lot like a guy trying to clear his mind by pounding the tar out of a poor defenseless ball."

  He smiled and glanced sideways at her.

  "I got pulled over." He brushed a hand through his hair. "The cop did it to mess with me. He checked my car, made me take a sobriety test. And then he let me go with the casual warning that he'd be seeing me around."

  "Nice." Maggie sat for a minute, sipping on the diet soda and trying to decide what else needed to be said.

  "I never expected it to be easy." Michael sighed. "But I didn't expect it to be this difficult. I know that I have to prove myself, but I'm not sure if I can ever measure up to what everyone seems to be expecting."

  "I'm sorry if I've been one of the people pushing you to measure up. That isn't what I intended."

  "Really?" He hopped down from the table. "So what did you intend to do?"

  Maggie shook her head. "I don't know, Michael. I don't think I planned on making you feel anything. If it makes you feel better, this is more about me than you."

  "Because you don't want me here, in your life and in your ministry?"

  "Not for the reasons you think." She gave him that, knowing he needed some kind of explanation. The reasons were too varied to go into detail. She didn't trust herself to be a good judge of character. She felt territorial and protective of her kids. And she didn't want to be let down. Multiple choice, with no wrong answers.

  "Are you going to share the reasons?"

  "No, I'm not." She stepped down from the table and stood a short distance from him. "I think it's enough that you know that I'm really trying. And I want you to succeed."

  "That's something, I guess." He tossed his soda can into a nearby recycling bin. "See you tomorrow, Maggie."

  She watched him walk away wondering if she could have said more. Of course she could have, she just didn't know what it would have been.

  Chapter FourMichael 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 unti
l 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."