Trusting Him

by Brenda Minton

  "Can I help?"

  "Yes, you can get the keys out of my car."

  "That isn't what I meant."

  "I know." She handed him the hanger she'd brought from the house. "I know you mean well, Michael, but this is something I have to deal with."

  "If you change your mind…"

  The sweetness in his expression curled around her heart. She wanted to touch him, to let him in. She reached up, resting her palm on his cheek, but only briefly.

  "Maggie, Maggie, I don't think you have any idea what you're doing." He sucked in a breath and walked away.

  No, she didn't know what she was doing, and that was the problem. She hadn't known what she was doing with Greg. She'd gotten in over her head and then she hadn't been able to get away. With Michael she was already floundering.

  She watched as he worked at the wire hanger. He straightened it into a hook and held it up for her to inspect.

  "Have you done this before?"

  "You remember that I haven't always been a good guy, right?" He grinned as he felt around the edge of the window. "Couldn't you have made this a little easier, though? If you had just left the window open an inch…"

  "That wouldn't have been any fun." Maggie smiled, relaxing as the banter between them eased the tension of a few minutes ago.

  Michael held the piece of wire at different angles and then pulled it back. Maggie leaned against the door and watched.

  The hanger slid between the door frame and the window. Michael twisted it and tried to turn it toward the lock. The fixed concentration gave him a cute, boyish look as he bit down on his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes to study the job at hand.

  As if making that face would help the process.

  "Maybe we should pray," he suggested after another unsuccessful attempt.

  "For God to help us unlock my car door?"

  "Hey, we have not because we ask not. Isn't that what Pastor Banks said in his message this morning? Didn't he say that God is the God of small problems and big alike? I fully believe He is also the God of small miracles, and getting into this car will be one."

  "So pray."

  "I have." He stepped away from the window, giving it the evil eye. Like that would make a difference.

  "And?"

  "I don't think I can do it."

  "You tried."

  "I wanted to do more than try. It's like this car is defying me to gain entrance."

  "I doubt if the car has thought through its motivation."

  Michael tried again, slipping the hanger expertly between the window and door, this time hitting the lock. He turned and grinned as he opened the door. Maggie applauded his talent.

  "Thank you. I really couldn't have done it without you."

  "I enjoyed today." He smiled with the words, convincing her of his sincerity. "Your grandmother is quite a cook."

  "Yes, she is." What else could she say? She jiggled her key chain and focused on a butterfly that flitted through the air.

  "I should be going."

  "Why did you call this morning, Michael?" Not what she had meant, but the words tumbled out.

  "I felt like we ended things on the wrong note last night. But maybe there's more to it than my fumbling attempts at friendship. Whose mistakes am I paying for?"

  Words failed her, and that didn't happen often. What should she say…that they were her own mistakes?

  "Well?" He shrugged. "No comments?"

  "It's just…" She looked up, wishing she could read his heart and know his intentions. "After going to your home, meeting your parents, I wonder how long you'll be here to help us."

  "That's a snobby thing to say."

  She shook her head. "What?"

  "You saw where my parents live, and so now you think I'm too good to be here? That I don't belong? The problem is, I don't know if I belong anywhere. Contrary to your opinion, I don't belong in my parents' world. I visit there, but I don't fit, and I haven't fit for a very long time." He lowered his gaze to meet hers. "And from what you've just said, I don't belong here, either."

  "No, that isn't it."

  "Really? To me, it feels like the way it is."

  "I don't want the kids hurt. They're starting to trust you. If you leave, you'll become another person in their lives who has let them down."

  "Is this about them, Maggie, or is it about you?"

  She couldn't answer that question, but he smiled as though he knew the answer and then he walked away.

  Chapter TenMichael rolled out of his bed on Monday morning at a few minutes until six. Four years of early rising had made it almost impossible to sleep late. He stood up, stretched and took a moment to enjoy the fact that his back didn't ache from sleeping on a four-inch mattress.

  When he came out of the shower the telephone next to his bed was ringing. He picked it up as he reached for his shoes.

  "I haven't seen you in a few days. I thought you realized that you still owe me?" The voice caught Michael off guard.

  "Why are you calling me?"

  "Mike, I'm hurt. We have a lot of catching up to do."

  "It's too early in the morning for this, and I don't really have anything to say to you." He started to hang up but Vince stopped him.

  "Oh, I think you do." He laughed. "Maybe your lady friend will make the payment you never did. That's a good idea. I should stop by and visit her."

  "Stay away from her." Stay cool, Michael. He closed his eyes and tried to follow that advice. "Stay away from her. Stay away from the church. This is between us."

  "Then remember to keep it between us. And keep Katherine out of it. You know she isn't good at keeping quiet. Don't make me have to do something that you'll regret."

  Michael hung up. His dad expected him at the office, but he couldn't go until he knew that Maggie was safe. And he had to check on Katherine. As much as he hadn't wanted to renew that friendship, he couldn't leave her hanging.

  * * *

  The knock on Maggie's office door caught her by surprise. She looked up from the book on her desk as Michael walked into the room carrying a cup of coffee. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Not even eight and he hadn't shaved. What was she supposed to say to him? He wasn't supposed to be here on Monday.

  "You look as if you didn't expect me to come back." He sat in the chair across from her desk. "You know, if we're going to be hanging out in here, we really need to get more comfortable furniture."

  Maggie closed her book. "If there was money in the budget for furniture, we would probably spend it on something more important."

  "I see." He set his coffee down on her desk. Hers. So what was he doing here and why did he think "they" needed more comfortable furniture?

  And what should she say to him?

  "Maggie? I asked if you would like a cup of coffee. It's fresh, I just made it."

  As much as she hadn't wanted to be bothered, she really needed that cup of coffee. She nodded and pushed her empty cup across the desk. "Please."

  Michael's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything as he took her cup. She watched him walk from the room, taking a deep breath as soon as he was gone.

  When he returned he had a cup of coffee. He set it down in front of her with a packet of cream and several packets of sugar. The subtle fragrance of soap and cologne mixed with the stronger aroma of fresh coffee. Maggie smiled up at him, determined to make this work. He had surprised her, showing up this early.

  Her reaction to seeing him had come as a bigger surprise.

  "Thank you. I needed that." She smiled, feeling more at ease as she adjusted to his presence.

  He started to speak but stopped. Maggie set her cup down.

  "I'm sorry, Michael, I guess you just took me by surprise this morning."

  "You expected me to just show up for a few hours a week. Oh, no, wait, I remember. You expected me to show up for a while, and then get tired of playing church."

  "No, not really. I shouldn't have said that. You know, the tongue can really get a perso
n into a lot of trouble. Especially if said person is grasping, trying to explain something she doesn't understand." She tossed him a freezer bag of chocolate-chip cookies. "Could this be a peace offering?"

  "Yes, sure. Why not?"

  "Breakfast of champions," she murmured as she dunked a cookie into her coffee. It was good coffee, not the cheap stuff they normally bought for the church kitchen. She took a big drink and savored the flavor.

  "Where did you find this?" she asked.

  Michael shrugged off her question. "I bought it downtown."

  "It's really good."

  "Maggie, I want to be a real part of this ministry."

  She finished her cookie before answering.

  "You know, you're ruining the cookie-and-coffee ritual with all of this jabbering."

  His eyebrows shot up. "I didn't realize this was a special moment in your day."

  "It is, and since you insist on talking, the moment is blown." She smiled, amazed by her own ability to tease him and seeing that he was just as amazed. His eyes widened as she continued. "I know you've been gone for a few years, but you might need to read a textbook on being 'male' in the modern age. Maybe buy one of those 'Men are Martians' books or something. You're supposed to hide your emotions, not lay them out on the table." While she talked he reached for a pen and paper. "Excuse me, what are you doing?"

  "Taking notes. Obviously, I missed this class in college. Okay, repeat that part about hiding feelings."

  Maggie lifted the cup of coffee and took a long sip to hide her smile. She set the cup back on the desk and leaned forward, resting her arms on the desktop.

  "Okay, here it is. To be male in this day and age you're supposed to keep your emotions on the inside, not talk them to death. When the woman starts talking emotions, long-term commitment or feelings, you're supposed to smile, nod and stare into space as you think about your next meal or what kind of car you want to buy."

  He circled the words "buying car" on the piece of paper and added a few exclamation marks after "hide feelings." Maggie watched him take notes and felt her tension slip completely away. It was replaced by some other emotion, one that she wasn't really able to define.

  "Got it?" She allowed her smile to sneak out. How could she not smile when he was sitting across from her, chewing on the eraser of the pencil as he studied his notes?

  "Got it. Be cold. Be unfeeling. Play it cool. Do these things and women will love me." He dipped a cookie in coffee and took a bite. "Does it help that I'm dangerous, a guy with a past and a known bad boy?"

  "Of course, the danger element is always good. That makes you unattainable, and some beautiful woman will set her sights on you."

  "Very interesting." He stared off into space.

  "Michael?"

  He ignored her.

  "Michael, are you listening to me?"

  "Oh, I'm sorry, I was thinking about cheeseburgers. Were you talking to me?"

  Maggie picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it. The missile made contact with his forehead. He picked it up off the floor, tossed it in the air a couple of times and then aimed it at the trash can in the corner of the room.

  "I think you have it down pat." She emptied the coffee in her cup. "And now I have work to do."

  "Is that my cue to leave?"

  "It should be. You have a job to go to, right?"

  He leaned back in his chair, taking the front two legs off the ground. His hands were behind his head and he didn't seem to be with her on the leaving part.

  "Maggie, do me a favor."

  "If I can."

  "Be careful, okay? When you're out, watch who is around. Keep your car doors locked."

  "Are you trying to scare me?"

  He shook his head, but she didn't buy it.

  "No, I'm not. And I debated with myself about not telling you this. But there are people from my past who are dangerous. They really don't like that I'm clean."

  Fear sneaked in, even though she told herself to not fear.

  "I'll be careful, but you be careful, too."

  "I will. See you this afternoon." He grabbed another cookie from the bag and walked out the door.

  * * *

  "I would really like to see the neighborhood and learn more about the people here." Michael smiled at the widening of Maggie's eyes when he brought up what had been on his mind since he'd showed up at the church that afternoon.

  He had been here since four o'clock, after having spent a day at the office worrying about her and thinking through his next step with Vince.

  "Okay, I think we can manage a tour of the neighborhood before the kids show up. I have a photographer coming today to give them lessons. I need to be back before he shows up." She reached for her purse and dropped it into an open filing cabinet. With her foot she closed the drawer. "We could take a walk around the block. That's probably the best way to see the people and get to know them."

  "Sounds good to me."

  Cool spring air and a strong breeze whipped against Michael's face when they walked out the back door of the church. He hadn't expected the sudden drop in temperature, not after a week of eighty-degree days. Next to him, Maggie shivered. He pulled off his jacket and handed it to her. A smile of appreciation lifted the corners of her mouth as she took it.

  "What kind of homes do most of these kids come from?" he asked as they walked down the path toward the street.

  "It varies. Working-class families aren't always dysfunctional."

  "I realize that. I know quite a few wealthy, dysfunctional families."

  His hadn't been one of the dysfunctional families, and so his spiral into drug addiction had really rocked the foundation of his home. What had happened? His parents had dealt with their own feelings of guilt, and they had all realized that sometimes the world creeps in and people take the wrong path.

  At his side, Maggie nodded toward a small house with a neat yard and a newer sedan parked in the drive. "Cathy lives there. She's fifteen. Her mom is a nurse. Her dad died in a car accident four years ago. Cathy's mom works hard, but she makes time for her kids. Cathy has always been in church. We just try to pick up some of the slack for her mom."

  He didn't have a comment, and Maggie seemed to be in her own world as she shared the stories with him.

  "Chance lives there."

  The house she motioned to was surrounded by an overgrown lawn. Several broken-down cars littered the drive. A new sports car was parked in the carport. That didn't fit the picture. Michael felt a shudder of apprehension as he looked at that home.

  "Do you know anything about his family?" Michael took hold of Maggie's hand and they crossed the street.

  "Enough. Chance hasn't had the best time of it. His mom is in and out of the home. It's a long story."

  "I'm willing to listen."

  "We'll be late. Remember, the kids will be at the church."

  Michael glanced back over his shoulder at the house on the corner. He didn't know much about Chance, but he knew that it would take a strong kid to survive that life.

  "Maggie, I wish you wouldn't stay at the church alone at night."

  "I'm not afraid." She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes softening. "Stop worrying. I've been doing this for a few years now, and I really am careful."

  Of course she was. He knew that, but it didn't take away the uneasy feeling that continued to grow.

  * * *

  The kids gathered around the photographer. He'd brought them all disposable cameras to practice with. Maggie sat next to Michael because sitting somewhere else would have been rude. Chance smiled their way and snapped a picture.

  "I got a shot of the lovebirds." He sat back in his chair and laughed at the joke.

  "Not cool, Chance." Michael shook his head at the teenager.

  No, definitely not cool. Maggie started to get up, to put distance between them and end the thoughts zooming through the minds of the curious teenagers.

  "Kids can come up with some strange ideas
," Michael said as he leaned over and whispered, "Insane ideas."

  The photographer, the father of a church member, invited them all to go outside. The kids rushed after him, leaving chairs scattered everywhere. Maggie went behind him, straightening the chairs.

  "You really love these kids, don't you?" Michael was next to her, helping to straighten the room.

  "I do love them." Because she looked at them through Faith's rose-colored glasses, seeing potential. "I was one of them."

  Michael stepped back, eyeing her with disbelief reflecting in his hazel eyes. "I don't see that."

  "That's because I had potential." She managed a smile. "People look at the kids, at the way they're acting and not at the reason they act that way. What's going on in their lives that makes them behave the way they do."

  "You're skirting the subject. We were talking about you."

  She headed toward the door with Michael behind her. As she reached for the knob, he touched her hand, stopping her. Maggie turned, carefully avoiding eye contact. His shoes were very nice.

  "I'm not talking about my life. The past is the past."

  "But somehow still strangely with us." His hand was still on hers, his fingers brushed her knuckles.

  Maggie pulled her hand out from under his. "I was one of these kids. My only anchor was my grandmother and a Sunday school teacher who taught me that Jesus loves me."

  "And someday maybe you'll tell me the rest of the story?"

  "Maybe someday."

  They walked outside. The kids were snapping pictures, laughing, pretending to be great photographers and models. They were dreaming of what they could be. That's what Maggie wanted for them. She wanted them to dream big and to realize their potential.

  John, a studious boy with short, dark hair and wire-framed glasses was aiming at a squirrel perched in the oak tree next to the church. Michael left the group and wandered up to the boy. Maggie could hear their conversation, and she smiled.

  "Newspapers need photographers, John." Michael pointed to a bird's nest and John aimed. "No one would think you're crazy for wanting that. You could take classes at the community college."

  "I never thought of that." John held the camera up and focused. "I just know we can't afford the university."