Break the Faith

by M. Mabie

  Regardless, she’d have options.

  Myra was industrious and didn’t shy away from work. Hell, she didn’t back down from any task put in front of her. Like me, she swept through chores, and before I knew it, I’d finished the few things I’d thought of to help her after only an hour.

  I’d missed church on Sunday, and for all the many things banging around in my head, I thought maybe catching the mid-week service wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It wasn’t that I had many decisions to make, mainly just the one about the building, but there was just a lot of moving parts in my life, spinning in different directions and speeds. If I wasn’t careful, they’d easily get away from me.

  Maybe it was all the chaos. Maybe not. Regardless, after a quick shower I headed to church.

  15

  Myra

  It was just my luck that the Help Wanted sign wasn’t on the doors at Hobby Lobby anymore, but I wasn’t surprised. Lots of people needed jobs. I could only hope that after I got my GED, they’d have another opening.

  Still, it was just another thing.

  I found the additional string I needed for the items I’d offered to make and some fabric in the discount bin that was definitely as good as anything else they had. Like usual, the whole department was on sale. So I filled my cart with all sorts of things. From zippers and buttons to replacement needles for my machine and new patterns. Even cushion foam that was usually very expensive was marked down a lot. The foam might come in handy to make some things for Abe’s furniture while I looked for a job in the coming months. Maybe it would add value and earn him more money.

  Of course, I’d have to play around with it first, but in my haste to take advantage of the sale, I tossed what I could fit into my cart and headed to the cash register before I made myself late for class. I really didn’t want to go, but I’d made a commitment to myself and I wouldn’t give up just because it was hard.

  Even though Hobby Lobby wasn’t hiring, I was going to get my GED and then I’d figure out what was next after that. One thing at a time, I thought as I unloaded my cart and paid.

  I walked into the classroom just as the clock struck six and took my seat. I’d only missed a few days, but there were two faces I’d never seen before and the room felt different.

  Then again, maybe it was just the ever-present attitude from Ms. Perry to my left.

  I didn’t make eye contact as I moved my bag under my desk at my feet to keep it out of the way. She had a habit of always moving it with her foot when it was in her path. Whatever I could do to avoid her I did.

  “Glad to see you, Myra,” Mr. Paxton said at the head of the class after writing a problem on the board. Math was where I had the most trouble. I could read the rules and understand the steps, but I had a difficult time applying them. There weren’t many resources I’d found that gave both problems and answers for me to work on. The workbooks I had were good, but I was so behind I would never get anywhere if I didn’t practice.

  I often wondered how much of this sort of math people in the workforce actually used. I hoped it wasn’t too much, and I couldn’t even think of a single situation where one would, but I’d be ready.

  Better safe than sorry.

  I didn’t reply out loud, but I gave him a polite, tight smile as I put what I’d need for class on my desk and clicked the lead out of my pencil.

  Hopefully, I was just having a bad night, and the work wasn’t getting harder. Because throughout the lesson and exercises, I remained confused and lost. Time seemed to drag. I barely took any notes, and I couldn’t keep up.

  It wasn’t a good feeling.

  I packed up before class even ended, and when our teacher dismissed us, I went directly to his desk.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Paxton,” I said, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

  “Myra, I hope you’re doing okay.” He pushed his glasses up his nose as he lifted his head to speak to me.

  “Thank you. I’m fine.” That wasn’t the truth, but I could have been worse. I could have been in Lancaster married off to some old man who was pumping babies into me. “In your email a few days ago, you mentioned a tutor. Is there a way I could get more information on that? I’m not doing very well in math.”

  He offered a sympathetic smile. “It can be a challenge. I’m not that great at it either. I know just enough to be dangerous. And, well, teach this course.” He gathered a few papers, stood and lifted his briefcase from the floor to the desk to pack it up. “Tutoring might be helpful for you. I don’t know what your budget is, or even how much the rates are, but I should tell you it’ll probably cost. It’s not a service provided for free like these courses.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much.

  “I don’t expect to get better at math—and science too, frankly—if I don’t dedicate a little more time to them than just every few weeks.” The sooner I finished with class and passed the test, the quicker I’d be able to really do something.

  My GED was one of the first things I needed to accomplish for myself, and so it got priority.

  “All right then. Ms. Perry is right here.” He peeked around me and said to the girl who I’d sat beside, “Casandra, Myra is looking for a tutor.”

  “Oh, no,” I interrupted. Her? “No. I’m sorry.”

  It wasn’t my intention to be rude to either of them. He was only doing what I’d asked, and I didn’t want to offend her—Casandra—but there was just no way. “No. Never mind. I don’t want to ... bother her. I’m sure she’s busy.”

  Truthfully, I just couldn’t fathom paying her to spend any more time with me than she already had to.

  “You’re looking for a tutor?” she asked, walking up beside me.

  “No, I was just asking about it.”

  Besides, why would someone qualified to tutor be taking prep courses? That didn’t make much sense. Mr. Paxton clearly underestimated how much extra help I needed. Maybe he thought I meant study partner.

  “I can do it,” she replied.

  “That’s okay. I only asked because I was curious.”

  Our instructors face glowed and his smile stretched from ear to ear. “Maybe you two should exchange numbers. Just in case. If you decide you want tutoring, you can call Casandra.”

  “Drop the Casandra crap, Dale,” she said. Then Ms. Perry faced me, but I only turned my head to her. “Cassie or Cas is fine. If you need a math tutor, I was third in my class.”

  I swallowed.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” she added and rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

  Was that her way of saying I was?

  “And I am?” I didn’t want to argue, and certainly not with her, but that had just been about all I could take for one day. I wasn’t a punching bag anymore.

  Mr. Paxton didn’t offer anything but watched my interaction with the young woman beside me.

  She stumbled over her words as she replied. “Well, I... I didn’t say that. I...uh...” It was the first time I’d witnessed her speechless.

  I said, “I’m not stupid either, and I’m not rude.”

  My heart raced. It wasn’t like me to speak out that way. As she scribbled something on a sticky note in front of her, my feet remained frozen.

  Then she handed the yellow square to me.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. This is my cell phone number. If you want help with math or other subjects, just text or call me.” She stepped back on her heel and scratched the back of her neck. “I’m sorry,” she said and marched out the door.

  “Ms. Perry really isn’t as bad as she’d like everyone to think.” Mr. Paxton’s voice jostled me out of the moment and my eyes went back to his.

  She had no trouble convincing me. “She’s not?”

  “She’s had a rough year.” He shrugged on his tan wool sweater. “Maybe you can relate.”

  I hiked my bag higher and pulled my car keys out of the side pouch where I’d stowed them. “I don’t know, but thanks anyway.”

&n
bsp; When I got to the car and checked my phone, I found a text from Abe.

  ABE: Going to Wednesday night service in town. You might beat me home. Thought I’d let you know.

  I replied and then drove home kind of dwelling on the lesser pleasant parts of my day. For whatever reason, I found a fast song on the radio and turned it up. Even the stop lights, all of which turned yellow as I approached, annoyed me.

  16

  Abe

  I’d never thought of church as entertainment, but that evening before the young woman pastor delivered her message, I enjoyed the escape of the music. They had a band and the upbeat tempo of most of their songs had my mood changing even more as they played at the end of the night.

  It was such a different atmosphere than the churches I’d visited before and almost a night and day comparison to my experiences in Lancaster.

  It was enjoyable. The parishioners smiled and laughed at the casual preaching that didn’t really feel like preaching at all. There were no threats of damnation. They weren’t subjected to diatribes of consequence of not abiding—to the letter—the teachings in the Bible.

  Their pastor spoke more like she was giving a lecture, like she was having a conversation. It was easy to listen to and connect with.

  That night her message had been about talking to God, and it struck a chord with me.

  So I was still sitting there lost in thought when a man around my age, maybe a little older, walked over.

  “Hey there, I’m Brad.” He smiled and looked behind himself to the pulpit. “Samantha’s husband. I’ve seen you come in a few times, and just wanted to say welcome and hello.”

  He sat in the pew in front of mine and offered me a handshake over the back of it.

  “Abe. Good to meet you.”

  “Just move to Fairview?”

  Usually, I wasn’t one for small talk with strangers, but he was just being friendly. I enjoyed attending their church, so I kept my manners in check. “No, been here for some time.”

  “Oh, well good. It’s always nice to see new faces.”

  “She’s a good speaker,” I said. “I haven’t enjoyed church in a long time. Truthfully, maybe ever.”

  “She’s much better at public speaking than I am, always has been. That’s probably why she’s the one up there and I’m not.”

  It was different to me that a woman was leading worship while her husband sat in the pews. I’d only ever known it the other way around.

  “You don’t preach?”

  “No.” He laughed. “Counselor at the high school. Guess I’m better at one on one. Still helping but saving teenagers from going to the wrong college isn’t the same as saving souls.” He chuckled again letting me know he was mostly joking. It sounded like he’d delivered that line before.

  “My girlfriend—well, my wife—she’s getting her GED.” I wasn’t sure how far Myra wanted to go with her education, but in the future if she was interested maybe Brad could help her find a school.

  “Girlfriend? Wife?” he asked.

  “It’s complicated.”

  A familiar sensation came over me as he glanced at my left hand. “A GED. Good for her.” Then he studied me a little harder. “Is she younger or ...”

  I hadn’t even thought about how it must have sounded. A man my age, who looked like me, talking about a girlfriend-wife getting a GED. I’m sure whatever he was thinking didn’t make me look all that great.

  “No, Myra’s in her twenties.” I took a breath and for whatever reason, just let it out. “We grew up in Lancaster.”

  He squinted. “Really? I’ve had a few students transfer to an academy there after getting into trouble.”

  “Well, that would be a punishment.”

  I wasn’t proud to say it, but it was the truth and there was no reason to pretend otherwise.

  He glanced at his wife again. Most of the band had left except for a few who were talking to her as she was putting things into a tote bag near where Brad had been sitting in the front.

  “I don’t want to keep you,” he said. “Just wanted to say hi and welcome. We’re glad you’re here, and of course we’d love for you to bring Myra.”

  Finding a church was personal, at least it had been for me. After over a decade of avoiding all of them and only just recently finding one that felt comfortable, when Myra was ready to go to church again—if that ever happened—whichever one she attended would be up to her.

  Although, I would invite her. I’d love for us to attend together, but I’d wait and see.

  “Thank you.”

  We both stood, and I looked at my phone to check the time, noticing Myra had replied. It was two gifs. A clip of Jim Carrey from Ace Ventura captioned, “Alrighty then.” And one of a young woman in bed, pulling the covers over her head and falling to the side.

  Class must have not gone well. I gained no pleasure from that, but I loved her tenacity regardless.

  Brad tapped the walnut pew between us and said, “And listen, I’m not trying to be pushy or assume anything—no judgement here—but if you guys ever need anything, we’re all here for you. This church family is strong, and we look after one another. We’ve got people from all walks and stages of life. So no doubt whatever it is, someone here can help.” Brad was a nice guy, that was unmistakable. He kind of reminded me of Myra in some respects. He seemed genuine and sincere. Normally, hearing someone say something like that would feel patronizing, but he only sounded like he meant it.

  “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you.”

  As I turned to go, his wife noticed us talking and waved. I grinned and motioned a reply with a few fingers in the air. It was odd to feel so at home in a place like that, but I did.

  I’d come in that night with a mess in my head and left somewhat comforted.

  The pastor’s words from earlier repeated in my mind as I drove.

  “When you’re going through struggles and trying times, it’s nice to have someone there with you who always knows where you’ve been and where you want to go. That’s what you get from talking to God.”

  As I drove, I talked to him, thinking to myself, in the silent cab of my truck. When I pulled into our drive, I thought maybe Myra was still in her car. The headlights were on, but it appeared she’d only forgotten to turn them off when she went inside.

  I couldn’t fix all her problems—maybe none of them—but I could at least prevent one from happening tomorrow. So I opened the driver’s side, found the knob, and turned them off for her.

  It was quite the sight in the cabin.

  Myra, cross legged on the island, eating dessert straight from the pan, an opened and half-empty beer beside her on the counter. Crumbles on her chin and raspberry on her shirt.

  Messy and sexy and in a brand-new way she turned me on.

  She chewed, and I took a seat at the island in front of her. She picked around the dish, foregoing pieces and digging right into the center. The fruity smell hit my nose, and I leaned forward, mouth open. Without a word, she loaded up her fork and steered it into my mouth. Since I didn’t need my hands, I wrapped them around to her bottom and pulled her closer to me.

  With her, I didn’t want personal space anymore.

  I swallowed and ran my fingers over the seams on the outside thighs of her jeans.

  “Talk to me.”

  She poked around the dessert again and said, “I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Start small.”

  “I talked to my sister-in-law Denise earlier, and she was a... a bitch.” The swear word from her wholesome lips almost knocked me off my stool. Her timing never disappointed.

  “What did she say?” I stretched my neck for another bite after she took one for herself.

  She shook her head to get her hair behind her shoulders and glared at the ceiling. “I guess nothing out of the usual. I shouldn’t have called her that.”

  “Hey,” I wiggled her hips between my hands. “Call ‘em like you see ‘em.”

  She huffed, a br
ief sardonic chuckle. “Right.”

  With a shrug, she picked up another forkful and fed it to me.

  I sucked it and decided to tell her about the job. Might as well get it all out there. “I have to go out of town for work.”

  Her brow relaxed, which was not how I expected her to react.

  “Tomorrow?” she asked. The coolness in her blue eyes warmed.

  “No. Sunday afternoon.”

  She squinted. “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good, I guess.” It would be a nice payday with the added overtime. Plus, the job was a great opportunity for the mill. There was just one con. “But I don’t like being away from you.”

  She hid her smile and puckered, revealing a tiny dimple on her chin I hadn’t noticed before. Unable to resist, I touched it and picked the fallen crust from the crumbly snack beside it and then licked it off my thumb.

  She sat the dish off to the side, kissed my cheek, and grinned against my skin. “I don’t like being away from you much either.” That soothed some of the sting.

  “Might be a few weeks. Maybe a month.”

  She grumbled. “Without coming home?”

  “I’ll be back and forth, but I won’t be sure when until we get going. It’s a large track of timber to fall, and we’re milling it too. Ted said a weekend might be possible here and there, but it’ll be play-by-ear from day-to-day.”

  “Okay.” Her head tilted to the side and her neck tempted me to kiss it, but I stalled when she continued. “I suppose that’ll just give me more time to study—which apparently I need to do constantly if I ever plan on passing the test. Mr. Paxton even suggested I use a tutor.”