Trusting Him

by Brenda Minton

  "I should have been a part of your life."

  "I can't talk right now." She scooted her chair away from the desk and walked to the window. "Maybe soon. Let me have time to think about this."

  "Can I see you in a few weeks? I'll be in Missouri on business."

  She tried to think of a reason she couldn't see him. Several excuses came to mind, but those would have been lies. And she would have been denying God's answer to her prayers. She couldn't say it was too late, but she wanted to.

  "Maggie, I'm sorry." He repeated the words he had already told her.

  "I believe you." She closed her eyes and rolled her neck, trying to relieve the tension. "I need time to think."

  She hung up and when she turned, Michael was still at her desk. He didn't turn away. He didn't even have the sense to look guilty.

  "You did this." She sat again, touching the bagel, not picking it up. Tears burned her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. She didn't need tears, not today, not over Jacob Simmons.

  "I did."

  "Why would you do this? What made you think you had the right to interfere in my life this way?"

  "I want to help." He shrugged. "Maybe it was a mistake. But then, maybe it wasn't."

  "This is my dad, not the roof, or coffee, or even Chance. This is a man who has denied my presence since before my birth."

  "I know."

  He got off the desk and squatted before her, taking her hands in his. She let him. His fingers were strong as they wrapped around her hands, holding tight. The comfort of that touch mixed in with anger. He had stepped into an area of her life that no one else had ever entered, not with this kind of action.

  She should feel something other than anger, but she couldn't allow that, not yet. What kind of person did this for someone?

  "This is my life, Michael, mine. I'm not sure why you thought I needed for you to come in and fix it."

  "Like you try to fix everyone else."

  She bit down on her bottom lip. "You can't fix other people, they have to fix themselves."

  "Sometimes they need a helping hand." He lifted her hand, brushing it against his cheek. "Isn't that what you do here for these kids, help them fix lives that others consider broken?"

  "And sometimes they need to be left alone. Some things can't be fixed." She pulled her hands free from his. "I'm sure that someday I'll thank you for this, but right now I need time to think. And I need to figure out how to stop being angry with you."

  "Fine, I have to go to work. I just wanted to bring you breakfast." He walked to the door, but then he stopped and turned. "You know, you don't make it easy to be your friend."

  She opened her mouth to respond, to tell him she hadn't meant it to be that way, but he turned and left, giving her the time alone she had thought she wanted.

  * * *

  Michael watched as the mouse crawled out of hiding, its whiskers twitching as it scurried across the floor to the crackers he'd left for it. It stopped midway across the floor and looked around, beady eyes surveying the room.

  "So, my little friend, we're a lot alike, aren't we? You aren't really wanted by most people. Sometimes I feel the same way."

  The mouse hurried across the floor, grabbed a piece of cracker and then disappeared behind the bookcase. The telephone rang. Michael looked at the caller ID before answering.

  "What?"

  "Mike, my friend, I think you still owe me money. And as someone who owes me, I'm trying to think of a way for you to pay your debt."

  "I'll send you a check."

  "That would be too easy."

  "What do want, Vince?" Michael closed his eyes, listening and feeling nothing, not even temptation.

  "Pick something up for me."

  "This is a setup, isn't it? I go pick up your package, you have someone there to break my legs."

  "You've been watching too many movies."

  Michael stood and walked to the front door. He looked out, watching as the rain poured down. The grass and trees were brilliant green. The sky had been gray for two days. He hadn't seen Maggie since the day of the phone call.

  "Mike, if you cooperate, I'll leave your friend alone."

  "You don't have to worry about that, she isn't my friend."

  It couldn't have come at a more convenient time, the fact that Maggie was upset with him. Contacting her father had put distance between them. It hadn't been his goal, his goal had only been to help her. It had worked to his advantage, though. If it meant getting Vince to leave her alone, it was worth it. Even if it meant losing her forever.

  "Vince, I'm not going to do your deal."

  "You'll regret that."

  "I regret a lot of things, most of them have to do with you. But this is one thing I won't regret. I'm done playing your games."

  A car pulled up the drive. Jimmy. He ended the conversation with Vince and opened the door.

  "You look good."

  "Thanks." Michael motioned his friend into the living room.

  "Do you want to go out tonight?"

  "No, I can't. I need to get laundry done, and I have some errands to run."

  "Do you ever do anything for fun?"

  Jimmy walked into the kitchen and opened the door to the fridge. He helped himself to a can of soda and offered one to Michael.

  "No, thanks. And yes, I do have fun."

  "Really, what do you do for fun?" Jimmy walked back into the living room. He surveyed the couch and the ancient recliner, choosing the recliner.

  "I…"

  "Gone on any dates since you got out? No disrespect to the time you spend with the lovely youth worker, but have you met up with any old friends other than myself, or gone out to dinner?"

  "No, I haven't." Michael continued to stand in the center of the living room. He caught sight of his unshaved face in the mirror over the sofa. "I'm not exactly the guy that girls want to take home to meet their parents. I'm a felon for life. That isn't exactly the résumé for dating success."

  "No, I guess you have a point there. But it wouldn't hurt you to get out once in a while."

  "No, it probably wouldn't. I'll work on that."

  Jimmy's attention shifted to the corner of the room. He grimaced, his eyes narrowing. "Is that the same mouse?"

  "Yeah." Michael hid a smile as the mouse slipped back under the entertainment center.

  "Why don't you get a trap?"

  Michael shrugged, unsure of the answer. "So, why are you really here?"

  "I didn't have a date, either." He smiled, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes. "And I'm worried about my dad."

  "Is he getting worse?"

  "Today was worse. And when I went to visit, he asked me to read the Bible. He's worried about eternity and I don't have answers."

  "You started at the right place. Keep reading the Bible to him. And call Pastor Banks."

  Jimmy looked away, focusing on the window as a flash of lightning lit up the room and thunder rattled the walls. "I thought you might be able to talk to him."

  "I could try, but I'm not sure how much good I would be."

  "You would do more than you think. No one can deny that you've changed. I give you a hard time, Michael, but I admire what you're doing. You're stronger than you think."

  Michael wasn't sure about that. There were days when he might have agreed. Not today. At least he knew he wasn't on his own. Even when he felt weak, he knew that God was there to give him strength.

  He wanted to share that with his friend, but he knew it wasn't the right time. Jimmy wasn't ready to hear, not yet.

  "I'll talk to your dad." The words were simple to say and the look of relief that passed over Jimmy's face made Michael glad he'd said yes.

  It was the one thing he felt good about that day. The other things all seemed tangled in confusion— Vince, church and Maggie.

  * * *

  Michael walked through the church a few days later. A quick glance at his watch and he knew he was late. A chaotic tangle of voices came from the kitch
en. He stepped into the room and into the middle of a party. Banners hung from the walls and balloons floated to the ceiling. Chance's birthday party, and he was late. He hadn't planned it that way and he knew he couldn't explain it to Maggie. She couldn't know where he'd been or what he'd been doing.

  Maggie looked up from cutting the cake. Her eyes flicked to his and then away. He crossed the room, greeting a few of the kids as he passed through the crowd. Being late served one purpose, it pushed the wedge between them a little deeper.

  "I didn't think you'd be here." She cut a piece of cake and handed it to him. "Chance was asking."

  "I'm sorry that I wasn't here sooner. I had other appointments. I tried to call, but kept getting your voice mail."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "Maggie, I am sorry."

  She handed him a stack of plates. "Can you serve the cake?"

  "I can. And a dish of humble pie if you would take it."

  "Stop."

  "Forgive me?"

  "I've forgiven you. I forgave you three days ago. I even called my dad. I'm going to meet with him when he comes to Springfield."

  His heart did a funny sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear that."

  He was glad she had forgiven him, and glad that she was moving forward with her dad.

  "We can't talk now. These kids are expecting cake and ice cream, and I have gifts to wrap."

  "Okay, I'll serve, you wrap."

  Michael took the knife that Maggie held out to him. He finished slicing the cake as she walked away. One of the girls picked up the stack of paper cups and started filling them with ice. Across the room the boys were hitting balloons into the air. It was a safe place for kids, somewhere to hang out.

  A safe place. Michael wished he had been involved in a group like this when he was a kid. Here the kids had positive peer pressure. He had watched them and listened to their conversations. Sometimes they were hard on one another, harder than an adult would have been.

  "Don't I get the first piece of cake?" Chance sat next to him, the bruise on his face had disappeared.

  "No way, girls first," Cathy teased, her face turning pink when Chance looked up, making eye contact with her.

  "Girls first, but after me." Chance continued to tease. When Michael set the first piece of cake in front of the teenager, Chance picked it up and handed it to Cathy.

  There were no lost causes in God's kingdom. Michael remembered that from the previous Sunday's sermon. Chance wasn't a lost cause, just a hurting kid that needed people who believed in him.

  Maggie was back, and she carried a stack of gifts. Michael took them from her and piled them on a table that wasn't being used. In the cool fluorescent lighting of the church kitchen, her face turned pink. She moved away from him and he let her go.

  The kids were begging to play darts. The look she shot his way looked like one that begged him to give her space.

  * * *

  "We're only going to play one more game."

  Maggie heard Michael's declaration and she couldn't stop the smile that sneaked across her lips. He'd said that three times already. After cake and ice cream he had challenged some of the kids to a game of darts. She had a sneaking suspicion he kept issuing the "one more game" warning because he kept losing and he wanted one more chance at victory.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall and shook her head. "No more games. It's time for you all to get home."

  A wave of moans answered, but the kids obeyed. They dropped the darts into the box and with a chorus of goodbyes they grabbed their stuff and headed for the back door. Maggie followed them out into the moonlit night.

  "See you on Sunday," she called out as they took off in a group.

  "They're good kids."

  Michael spoke from behind her, making her jump. She managed to stifle the scream, but couldn't do anything about the way her heart tried to race out of her chest. She turned, facing him with all the stability of a soft maple tree in a strong breeze.

  "Don't sneak up on me like that."

  His hand brushed down her arm and he nodded, as though he understood. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you knew I was here."

  "I didn't know."

  "I would never hurt you." His eyes sought hers, as if he wanted to convey more than the words said. "I called your dad because I wanted to do something for you. I wanted you to have that, because you do so much for others and you deserve to have something done for you. You don't deserve to be hurt."

  She closed her eyes as his words registered in her heart. Of course he knew. He had known about her dad, and he knew about Greg.

  "How did you find out?" She opened her eyes and saw that he had taken a step back. Good, because she needed that space.

  "I overheard. I was going to get a drink and you were talking to Pastor Banks."

  "You heard…" She sighed and shook her head. "You heard everything?"

  "Most of it."

  "I don't want to talk about this, Michael."

  "I know you don't, but you have to understand that what that guy did to you wasn't your fault. And he's only one man."

  "I know. In my heart I do understand that. It was a long time ago, really. It's in the past."

  She turned to walk away, but his hand on her arm stopped her. It didn't hurt and she didn't feel the dreaded shot of fear that she would have felt a few years ago. All wounds heal, some just take more time than others.

  "I know you don't want to talk. But I want you to believe me when I say I would never hurt you. I care about this ministry, the kids and you. It isn't always easy, doing the right thing."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I don't want to let you down."

  "I think I know that. Michael, thank you for calling my dad. It was a shock, hearing his voice, but it meant a lot to me that you would do that." She touched his cheek. "You won't let me down. I trust you."

  His eyes closed and his cheek moved into her hand. When he opened his eyes their gazes connected and Maggie wondered if her heart could handle the well of emotion brought on by his touch. Had she ever cared for anyone the way she cared for him at that moment? And was the emotion real, or something created by moonlight and a sultry summer night?

  "You don't know what that means to me, Maggie, that you trust me. You make me feel like someone who can be counted on. I want to be that person." He leaned, dropping a light kiss on her cheek. "Thank you."

  "You don't have to thank me." She looked down at their intertwined fingers and for the first time in a long time she felt truly protected. "Just be my friend."

  "Of course we're friends."

  She closed her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her. For that moment she was the girl that Michael Carson wanted in his life, even if they were only calling it friendship.

  Tomorrow she would deal with reality.

  Chapter FourteenReality had to be dealt with that night, before emotion had a chance to carry Maggie away on a roller-coaster ride she'd rather not take. For the reality check she went to Faith, who had no trouble keeping her in the real world. Faith would give it to her straight. Before heading across town, Maggie called home. When there wasn't an answer she remembered that her grandmother had gone to stay with a sick friend.

  Ten minutes later Maggie was knocking on Faith's door. It took a few minutes for Faith to answer. When she did, her hair looked like she'd styled it with a blender and her clothes looked like she'd pulled them out of the laundry basket. She didn't look at all happy.

  "Did I wake you up?"

  "Do you think?"

  "It isn't late."

  "I didn't get any sleep last night. I was making up for it tonight." She motioned Maggie inside. "What are you doing here?"

  "Gran is with a friend."

  "And you needed someone to cook for you?"

  Maggie followed Faith into the kitchen, the cats chased after them. "I can cook for myself. And since you can't cook, we'd have to order something. I needed a cup of coffee and I knew you'd have
some."

  "I have tea."

  "Traitor."

  She sat at the table and Faith settled across from her. The two of them sat in silence as Faith's "little darlings" curled around their legs, Persian kitty tails twitching.

  "So?" Faith finally said, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

  "My dad called a few days ago."

  Faith's eyes widened and her hand came down. "He called. Just like that? And you're just now getting around to telling me?"

  "It took me a few days to get a grip on my emotions. And it wasn't 'just like that.' He didn't suddenly decide to call. He had a little help."

  "A little help?" Faith walked into the kitchen and filled up the teakettle. "From above?"

  "Michael found him and gave him my number." She fiddled with a stack of papers. "It isn't like we couldn't have found each other sooner. He knows where I live."

  "So Michael called him. You mean, the Michael who is lumped into that category of men that you think you can't trust?" Her eyes lit up. "How sweet is that?"

  "I think it was more interfering than sweet."

  Faith rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh, please. Maggie, Greg was a rat. Your dad was a fink. Do not punish every other man in your life for their mistakes."

  "Yeah, I know. And you're right, it was sweet. But he also knows about Greg." She pulled a tissue from the box on the table, not planning on crying, but just in case it happened.

  "How?"

  "He overheard a conversation I had with Pastor Banks."

  "Nosy, isn't he?"

  "I guess. But what do I do now? He knows all of my secrets. He knows about Greg. He found my dad. He cares about the kids at church." She fiddled with the tissue, wrapping it around her finger. "The only thing he probably doesn't know about is my mother."

  "What is it that you're afraid of? Are you afraid you'll care too much and he'll let you down? Are you worried about the kids at church? I guess I don't get it. You've met a nice guy and he has done some very sweet things."

  What was she afraid of? Maggie thought it was possible that everything that Faith had said could be on the list. At the top of the list was trust. What if she trusted him and he let her down?

  "When does the floor fall out? When does he expose his true self?"