Trusting Him. Brenda Minton
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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