Trusting Him. Brenda Minton

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СКАЧАТЬ Yeah, maybe so. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run him off. I’ll give him the chance he deserves.”

      “You’re a strong woman, Maggie. You’ll get through this.”

      Maggie nodded and walked to the door. She expected to see them driving up at any moment. Pastor Banks had driven the few hours to the state prison in central Missouri to pick up Michael because he had asked his family for one day to get settled before seeing them. It was nearly five o’clock. It wouldn’t be much longer.

      “I’ll be back in a sec. I have a cooler of bottled water in my car. I thought maybe you’d need something to drink, and I figured you forgot to bring something.” Faith slid past her and out the front door.

      Maggie watched Faith leave. Faith had asked her the same question as Pastor Banks. What bothered her about this? Michael Carson’s past didn’t upset her. Most people had a past. Not everyone had made mistakes as big as his, but hadn’t they all made mistakes?

      It wasn’t his past. It was hers that made this so difficult. Her memories of a mother who could never seem to quit using drugs, followed by Maggie’s own years of rebellion, were the real problem. Choices she had made, wrong decisions—those things haunted her. A night that she couldn’t reclaim added to the heap. A dark road, a guy she had trusted, pushing her to go where she hadn’t wanted to go.

      She walked away from the door, her heart racing as the memory continued to flash through her mind, an instant replay that had dulled with time but hadn’t faded.

      Greg had taken what she hadn’t wanted to give. She had trusted him, even considered that they might have a future together. Their future ended that night, sending her life on a completely different path.

      The door to the trailer rattled as it opened. Maggie jumped and turned, Faith’s red head peeked in. She smiled and held up the cooler.

      “Relax, it’s just me.”

      “I knew that.”

      Faith carried the cooler into the kitchen. “Nice place.”

      “He doesn’t have to live here.” Maggie took the bottle of water that her friend held out to her. “His parents have a home in River Oaks Estates. On the ninth hole of the golf course, I think.”

      “Claws, my friend? That isn’t like you.” Faith opened her bottle of water. “Sit down with me.”

      “I need to finish sweeping.”

      Faith backed up to the counter and with a hop she was sitting, the bottle of water next to her. “Why clean it for him if you dislike him so much?”

      Maggie shrugged. “Because I’m a nice person. And because I don’t dislike him. I don’t know him.”

      “You’re too sweet, Mags. And you gotta admire that he would want to live here, and not with his parents.”

      “Yes, that’s something to admire.”

      “So—” Faith looked down at the bottle of water she had picked up “—so maybe he isn’t another rich guy who takes what he wants without thinking of the consequences. Isn’t that what you’re thinking? You think he’s using his money to get what he wants. He’s out of prison, has a second chance, and now he’s going to walk in here and make it all better by doing a good deed.”

      Maggie looked out the window, concentrating on a sparrow that had landed on the railing of the deck. Was Faith right? Maggie sipped from her bottle of water, shrugging as she turned to face her friend.

      “Thanks for that, now I really feel like a heel. Yes, maybe that is what I’ve been thinking. I haven’t even met the guy but already I’ve put him in the box with other people who have let me down. I’ll work through it.”

      “Money or not, his life isn’t going to be a walk in the park.”

      “Life rarely is a walk in the park.” Maggie smiled at her friend. “But I guess we both know that, right?”

      Faith was a cancer survivor. Maggie had survived her father’s abandonment before her birth, her mother’s death and Greg. They had made a pact a long time ago to not dwell on darker days, but to move forward. But sometimes that was easier said than done. Sometimes life tossed in a few obstacles, just to keep them on their toes.

      Maggie wanted to think that Michael Carson was a temporary obstacle. He would get settled, get back on his feet and move on.

      “We’re both survivors, Maggie. Which is why, even though it hurts, you’re going to give Michael Carson a chance.”

      “Yes, I’m going to give him a chance. Mercy, isn’t that a key ingredient to living our faith?”

      “You got it, sweetie. We all need mercy, a little forgiveness and a second, sometimes a third, chance.”

      Maggie smiled, the appropriate response. She had received enough mercy, and more than one second chance of her own. But Michael Carson, this faceless entity, in her life and in her ministry?

      “Faith, I’m fine. You don’t have to babysit me. It’s been six years. I’m nearly twenty-seven, which makes me a grown-up. I’m not afraid to be here alone.”

      “I know, but I want to be here for you.” Faith smiled, her eyes sparkling with humor.

      Maggie got it then, and she felt like an idiot for not getting it sooner. “You’re not here for me. You’re here because your curiosity got the best of you. You just want to see him.”

      Faith put a hand on her chest, her eyes widening in an overly sincere fashion. “Mags, I can’t believe you think that of me. Honey, I’m hurt.”

      “And I’m right.”

      “Okay, I admit that idle curiosity might have something to do with my being here. I’m a writer, you know, I do like to study people. And I do care about you.”

      “The world is your…” For the life of her, she couldn’t think of the word. “Whatever.”

      “Stage?” Faith supplied. “No, not really. I think that would make me an actress.” She hopped down from the counter. “Let’s get some fresh air. This place smells like pine cleaner and bug spray. And I think I just saw a mouse.”

      “Yeah, I think he lives under the couch. Let me grab my purse and we can go.”

      Faith’s hand on her arm stopped her. Maggie turned, catching the compassionate look in Faith’s green eyes.

      “Maggie, remember, he’s not Greg, and he isn’t your dad.”

      “Yes, I know. I’m not judging him, Faith. I know all about making mistakes.”

      A car engine rumbled to a stop in the driveway. Maggie looked out the window, Faith nudging in right behind her. Pastor Banks got out of the car first. Michael Carson followed, exiting from the passenger side.

      Maggie pushed aside the lecturing voice inside her mind, the one that told her she was behaving like a teenager. Faith whistled softly, obviously not getting the same mental lecture.

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