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“Pastor Banks said I would find you here.” He glanced in Chance’s direction, offering the teen a smile that Chance wasn’t keen on accepting. “I was looking for materials on the adult Bible study.”
“Oh, I have an extra copy. Or you can get one from Don. He leads the group.”
“Good. I tried the bookstores, but they’re sold out.”
And for this he needed to hunt her down? Maggie wasn’t buying it.
“Michael, this is Chance. He’s one of our kids.” She hoped her smile would be contagious and Chance would give a little.
He did. He stood and held out a slightly dirty hand for Michael to shake. Michael took it in a hearty grip. So, he wasn’t afraid of dirt.
“Nice to meet you, Chance.”
“Same to you, man.” Chance stood a few inches shorter than Michael. His body was gangly, like most teens, and his blond hair needed to be cut. Or at least that was Maggie’s unasked-for opinion.
“Do you need help with the flowers?” Michael’s attention turned to focus on the box of plants still waiting.
“No, we’re fine, and you aren’t really dressed for this.”
“I don’t mind getting dirty.”
Chance laughed, but Maggie ignored him. “No need. Really. We’re good.”
He stood in front of her for several long seconds before he finally nodded. “I understand. Well, I have somewhere I have to be, anyway.”
“See you Sunday at church?”
He nodded and walked away. Maggie felt like an idiot. He wanted to help. She could have let him. Instead he backed out of the drive and she let him go.
It didn’t bother him. Michael told himself that as he drove away from Galloway, heading south on a paved farm road, toward his place. He didn’t need Maggie Simmons’s approval. She didn’t have to like him. It would help, but it wasn’t a requirement.
What bothered him was that she had made it pretty obvious his help wasn’t needed. He wondered if she planned on continuing that theme when he did start working with the youth.
The whole world needed for him to prove something to them. He had to prove he was clean. He had to prove that he could be depended on. Maggie Simmons seemed to want more than anyone, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it was that she wanted.
One thing he thought he knew for sure. She wanted him out of her life. He couldn’t give her that. He had a few things to prove to himself. He could be trusted. He could stay clean.
Maybe it would be better if Maggie reserved some of her determined dislike for him until he had proven those things. He wasn’t really the kind of person she needed to rely on, not when he wasn’t even sure if he could be relied on.
A few miles from his house he changed his mind about going home. He had seen a motorcycle dealer a mile or so before his place. For a few days he had been thinking about buying one. He hit his turn signal and headed in that direction, the windows down, letting the breeze sweep through the car.
Flashing blue lights disrupted his plans. He glanced in his rearview mirror and groaned. A quick glance down at his speedometer and he realized he hadn’t been speeding. As a matter of fact, he was going under the speed limit.
He pulled to the side of the road, hit the hazard lights button and waited. He had his license, registration and insurance card ready. The officer approached, his hand on his gun, looking prepared for anything. Michael rolled down his window.
“Officer.”
“Mr. Carson.”
Michael waited, knowing he didn’t have a prayer if he got upset. He knew the drill and had been prepared for this. That didn’t lessen the sting. Fresh out of the pen, of course he would be watched. And any wrong move could land him in trouble.
“Could you step out of the car, please? Keep your hands up so I can see them.”
Michael pushed the door open and stepped out, hands up, palms out. He had been here before. The difference this time was that he hadn’t done anything wrong. And that did make him mad.
“Could you tell me what I’ve done?”
“Routine traffic check. You swerved a little back there.”
Michael shook his head. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Turn around, put your hands on the hood of the car.”
Michael obeyed, but his insides shook. Anger, some pretty self-righteous indignation and a healthy dose of humiliation were doing battle inside of him, and were ready to roll out in one overwhelming emotion.
He flicked his gaze to his right and watched as the officer did a cursory check through the windows of his car. Looking for drugs was Michael’s guess.
“You won’t find anything in there.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word for that? Sorry, I’m not in the habit of trusting felons.” The officer came back. “We’re going to do a field sobriety test.”
“Fine.” Michael turned to face the man, who stood several inches shorter than he did. “I’ll do whatever you say. But I’m clean. I’ve been clean for four years.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
Michael laughed at that. “Oh, yes, I did. Do you think drugs don’t get through the doors of a prison?”
“Straight line, heel to toe.”
Michael walked the line.
The steady thumping sound wasn’t familiar. Maggie walked out the back door of the church, trying to figure out what she’d been hearing for the past thirty minutes. For a while she had ignored it, and then she’d thought that maybe Chance had stuck around after they’d finished planting flowers. Now it was starting to grate on her nerves, like the dripping of a leaking faucet.
The red sports car in the parking lot surprised her. Michael Carson. How long had he been here? And why hadn’t he come inside? She walked around the corner of the building and spotted him. He wasn’t alone. That surprised her more than his presence. Chance was with him.
They were playing racquetball off the retaining wall next to the church. Michael would hit, the muscles in his arms tightening and perspiration soaking the back of his shirt. Chance, not so sure of this sport, would come back, making a solid effort.
They were talking. Maggie couldn’t hear them, not from her vantage point. But they seemed to be having a real heart-to-heart. Not wanting to disturb them, she stayed near the building, happy to observe without getting involved. Even if a corner of her heart felt a little envy. Chance wasn’t always the most trusting kid. He didn’t take easily to people outside his social circle. And he wasn’t given to smiles like the one he wore at the moment.
Maybe Chance found it easier to trust than Maggie did. She would like to think so. It would be good if he could connect with a man, someone who could be a role model.
She wasn’t quite prepared to put Michael Carson into that position. Not yet. He needed to show them that he could be that person.
“Hey, look who came out to join us.” Chance waved his racquet. “I told him you were still here.”
Michael nodded. He didn’t smile. That had to be because of her earlier dismissal of his offer to help. She crossed the parking lot to where the two now stood, racquets held loosely at their sides. Michael held the ball, bouncing it lightly in his hand. His gaze came up, connected with hers, making her doubt that it had been a good idea to come out here.
Broad daylight and she didn’t feel safe. Not that she felt in danger. Not really.
Chance cleared his throat, his eyes narrowed. He shot a look at Michael and then back to her. A casual shrug and he handed the racquet he held to Michael.
“I need to go. I, uh, have homework.”
Maggie came out of her daze. “Don’t lie, Chance.”
“I should have homework,” he hedged.
“See you tomorrow.” Tomorrow was Sunday, and church. Chance hadn’t worked up to that, not yet. She didn’t pressure him, just casually asked from time to time.
“Maybe tomorrow.” He darted away, and she knew he wouldn’t be there.
Michael started to move away. Maggie couldn’t let him go, not yet. She had to apologize. He didn’t deserve to have her push him away. She could let him work with her without letting him into her life.
She really had to work on that trust issue. Or so Faith kept telling her. She had to trust herself to make the right choices, and trust the people in her life not to let her down.
“I have some cola in the fridge inside, or bottled water. Do you want one?”
He stopped, turning with eyes widened in surprise. He pointed to himself and smiled. “Are you talking to me?”
“I’m talking to you.”
He held up the racquets and the ball. “Do you play?”
“No, I don’t play.” Well, that came out totally wrong. She managed a tight smile. “Racquetball. I don’t play racquetball.”
“That’s what I thought we were talking about.” He laughed, the sound sort of carefree and delicious, better than coffee with cream.
And just the fact that she had that thought meant that Faith had been a very bad influence on her.
“It’s nice out here.” She nodded toward the picnic table under the shade of a huge oak tree. “We could sit in the shade.”
Not inside, confined in her office. She glanced toward the parking lot where her car was parked and so was his. People could drive by and get the wrong idea.
Michael nodded his understanding. “Not ready to face what people will think if it gets around that we were here together?”
Forget the delicious coffee-and-cream laugh. “That isn’t it at all. I don’t want to give people room to speculate.”
“Ah, speculation. Yeah, I know what you mean. People do like to assume the worst.”
The way his eyes shifted away from her, she thought that there was more to that comment, something he didn’t feel like sharing. Probably the same something that had brought him back here with a racquet.
Speculation. Now she was doing it. Maybe he liked racquetball and didn’t want to go to the club to play. “I’ll get the colas and meet you back here.”
When she walked out of the church carrying a couple cans of soda, he was sitting on top of the picnic table. His long legs, clad in shorts, were stretched out in front of him. She felt a moment of envy, seeing his tan, and guessing that it came easily for him.
He smiled, an easy smile that lifted one side of his mouth and flashed straight white teeth.
“I’m afraid we only have diet.” She handed him a can and he took it.
“It’ll work.”
Maggie stood in front of the bench, not really sure what her next move should be. Her indecision caught his attention and he patted the spot next to him. That left her in a predicament. Sit next to him, or look further jerky and emotionally unstable.
She sat next to him on top of the table. At least she could drink the soda and not concentrate on finding a topic of conversation they would both be comfortable with.
“I like it here in Galloway. It’s quiet and sometimes I forget that Springfield is just a traffic light away.” Michael ended the silence. “And I really like living outside of town.”
“I’ve always lived here.”
“Really? Do you have your own place or do you live with your parents?”
“I live with my grandmother.” And she didn’t want him to ask more than that. She knew he would. A quick glance in his direction and she saw the questions forming. “My mother passed away when I was in my early teens.”
“I see.” But the tone, soft and a little distant, said that he didn’t see. “And your dad?”
She never had an answer for that question. Her dad, not in the real sense of the word, didn’t exist. He didn’t exist, had never wanted to be a part of her life, but yet he did inhabit her mind a lot. She thought of him, wondered about him and sometimes resented him.
“Maggie?”
“Sorry, I got lost in thought. No, I don’t have a dad.” She hated the word illegitimate, so she wouldn’t use it. It made it sound like her life didn’t count. And her life did count.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk.” He leaned back, looking up at the tree that spread like a leafy green umbrella over top of them. “I wanted to talk about something other than myself.”
“That’s understandable. What happened?”
He sat up, his eyes making direct contact with hers. He hadn’t expected that question. She could see it in the widening of his eyes, that she’d taken him by surprise.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “You left earlier, but now you’re back, and I think that racquetball game was more than an exercise routine. It looked a lot like a guy trying to clear his mind by pounding the tar out of a poor defenseless ball.”
He smiled and glanced sideways at her.
“I got pulled over.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “The cop did it to mess with me. He checked my car, made me take a sobriety test. And then he let me go with the casual warning that he’d be seeing me around.”
“Nice.” Maggie sat for a minute, sipping on the diet soda and trying to decide what else needed to be said.
“I never expected it to be easy.” Michael sighed. “But I didn’t expect it to be this difficult. I know that I have to prove myself, but I’m not sure if I can ever measure up to what everyone seems to be expecting.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been one of the people pushing you to measure up. That isn’t what I intended.”
“Really?” He hopped down from the table. “So what did you intend to do?”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know, Michael. I don’t think I planned on making you feel anything. If it makes you feel better, this is more about me than you.”
“Because you don’t want me here, in your life and in your ministry?”
“Not for the reasons you think.” She gave him that, knowing he needed some kind of explanation. The reasons were too varied to go into detail. She didn’t trust herself to be a good judge of character. She felt territorial and protective of her kids. And she didn’t want to be let down. Multiple choice, with no wrong answers.
