Trusting Him. Brenda Minton
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?
Chapter Five
Michael pulled over when Vince drove up behind him a few hours later. The call that Noah had suggested he make had been made. There would be no turning back. He parked in a well-lit parking lot, not wanting this first meeting, one that he wasn’t really sure about, to be in a dark alley somewhere.
He let Vince approach him. In his rearview mirror Michael watched as the man he once considered a friend stepped out of his Corvette. Four years had aged Vince. He was thin, his skin was sallow and he looked ten years older than he should have.
A person couldn’t put drain cleaner in their body without doing serious damage.
“Michael Carson, long time no see.” Vince leaned in the window. “How’s church life?”
“Fine, it’s working for me.”
“Is it, Mike, or are you just making a good show of recovery?”
Michael stared straight ahead, finding the answer that he needed. “Draw your own conclusions, Vince.”
Vince laughed. “You were always a hard one to figure. I’m not sure yet if I even want to talk to you. But I do know one thing. You owe me.”
“That’s your opinion.” Michael reached to turn off the radio. “I have to go.”
“See you soon?” Vince put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “You know, Mike, I don’t like to play games. If I find out that you’re playin’ me, you’ll be sorry.”
“I’m not playin’ you, Vince. I’m trying to stay out of jail.” He moved his shoulder, shaking Vince’s hand free. “I might see you around.”
Vince stepped back from the car and Michael pulled away. His heart raced in his chest, needing a way out. He needed a way out. This time, though, he wasn’t alone. If God was for him, who could be against him?
He had something else to keep him moving forward. He had Maggie and the kids at church. For the first time in a long time he felt needed, and like he could be of use to someone.
Michael’s first outing with the kids, and Maggie almost felt sorry for him. She had watched him climb into the driver’s seat of the van full of teens, looking slightly on edge. Were the tight lines around his mouth due to the kids or had something else happened? Probably the kids. They could be an overwhelming bunch. Especially when ten of them showed up, like tonight.
Ten teenagers, two adults and one twelve-passenger van, on their way to the bowling alley. Maggie wondered if this would fit her grandmother’s idea of a promising date.
She glanced sideways at Michael, who had insisted on driving. His concentration was on the road, but from time to time he glanced into the rearview mirror to check on the kids. From beneath half-closed eyes she studied his profile, strong with a generous mouth that smiled often, and hazel eyes flecked with green. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew the color. His steady gaze often connected with hers, startling her with the intensity of his attention.
He glanced her way and caught her staring.
“Something on my face?” He grinned and then flicked his attention back to the road.
“No.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” And she couldn’t finish, because she wouldn’t lie. The truth would have sounded ridiculous. I’m staring at you because you’re so stinking gorgeous you don’t look real. Or maybe, It scares me to be here in the dark with you and I’m glad we have ten teenagers to keep us honest.
Both thoughts were so out of character that she quickly pushed them aside. These were “Faith” thoughts. Faith was the quirky one. Maggie had always been pegged as the serious one. Her entire life she had been the kid the teachers labeled as “shy” and often keeping to herself. Her mother would read the notes on the back of the grade card and ask her why she didn’t play with the other kids.
The list had been long. She felt silly in her yard-sale clothing, the other kids teased her for being shy and they asked why she didn’t have a dad.
Faith