Brenda Minton - Trusting Him

“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 mutt. Who said dogs were a good judge of character?

“No, I wasn’t waiting, just getting fresh air. I hadn’t really expected you today.”

“Yes, well, I had to leave work early, so I thought I might as well swing by here.”

“Had to leave work early?” She grimaced as the question came out. “Sorry, none of my business.”

The lines of his mouth tightened into what wasn’t exactly the carefree smile she had noticed when he’d first stepped out of the car. He sat next to her on the steps. The dog switched sides and nudged into his arm.

“You know, my life is a continuous learning experience, with a lot of lovely surprises thrown in along the way.”

“Really.”

He stroked the dog’s head and in turn the animal licked his hand. “You don’t really want to hear this, do you?”

“I do, but I don’t know how much you want to share.”

“Thanks, because this isn’t something that my parents want to hear. They would like to think that everything is perfect.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I got called in for a random drug test by my probation officer.” He looked up, his eyes connecting with hers, seeking something. Understanding maybe? Or compassion? She breathed in, not sure which response to give.

“Is that standard?”

“Or do they suspect me of something?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, it isn’t your fault. Yes, it is standard. Somehow I pushed it to the back of my mind. But today it happened.”

“How did it go?” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to ask the right question or give the correct response for this.”

“Join the crowd. This isn’t exactly something I planned for my life. And I doubt that you thought you’d be thrown into the role of supporting someone who is going through this.”

“So, we’ll get through it together.” The words slipped out and once again she knew she’d said the wrong thing. But this time for a different reason. She couldn’t be the one getting him through this. She had already tried that. She had been the supporting one, trying to help her mother.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold you to that. But I appreciate you listening to me.” He stood and reached for her hand to pull her to her feet. “And in case you’re wondering and you’re too polite to ask—I’m clean.”