“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.”
“I know that.”
“So, let’s go tell the kids the truth about my life.”
She stood and turned to walk up the stairs. On the last step she stopped and waited for him to join her. He hadn’t moved. “Are you ready for this?”
“I’m ready.”
The shuttered look that fell over his expression closed her out. That was fine. She didn’t mind being closed out. It meant she didn’t have to get involved. Of course, it felt as though she was already pretty involved.
“If you’re sure.”
“Of course I’m sure. Just a moment of doubt.”
“We all have those.”
“You’re right.” He took the steps two at a time and passed her. When he reached the door he opened it, motioning for her to enter first. “After you.”
End of conversation, just like that. Maggie let it go. She had a group of kids waiting for her. They were her ministry—not Michael.
The kids were behind the church playing basketball. Michael followed Maggie out the back door. As they stepped outside, she turned, offering him a smile that she probably meant to be encouraging. He didn’t feel encouraged. He had dropped by to visit the kids from time to time; he and Chance had connected, but this time it felt different. This was a step forward. This meant really immersing himself in this ministry.
It also meant that he now had to be up front with the kids. They needed to know the truth, the whole truth, before they heard rumors and invented their own stories about his life.
“Hey, guys, let’s all sit down on the picnic tables.” Maggie’s voice grabbed the attention of the kids. The ball dropped to the court, to be picked up by Chance. The huddle of kids climbed on the tables, watching expectantly.
They were looking at him.
Maggie reached behind her, grabbing his hand to pull him forward. “Michael Carson is going to start joining us on a regular basis next week. He’ll be here at least three afternoons a week, and he’ll help us on different weekend activities.”
The enormity of his commitment hit home. Doubts whirled around inside him, calling him a fraud and making him question if he had the ability. What if he let them all down?
“Hi, guys.” He stepped forward. Maggie’s hand dropped from his arm. He hadn’t realized until it was no longer there how much that touch had meant to him. “I guess I’ve met most of you, so today isn’t as much about introductions as it is about getting real.”
Maggie moved from his side. She took a seat at the picnic table, next to one of the girls, and nodded for him to continue. His gaze remained locked with hers.
“Most of you probably know that I’ve been in prison for the past four years.” He grinned and Maggie responded with a smile that settled in her blue eyes. “I guess I can start by saying that I’m an addict. I’m also a Christian. I’ve been clean for four years, and I plan to stay that way.”
The kids remained quiet. There were nine of them today. They were an odd assortment. One girl looked to be fourteen. She had wire-framed glasses and a soft expression. Timid. But she looked happy. Another girl had dyed her hair black, and her gaze seemed to dare him. The boys—most were sweaty teens who wanted to play basketball and chase girls. One boy looked wary and angry with the world.
They wore expressions that ranged from contented to hopeless to lost and angry. From Jesus Saves to I Hate My Life, like the carvings on the desk in Maggie’s office.
He understood those feelings. He had gone from one extreme to the other. Maggie’s encouraging smile brought him back to the present. He smiled down at her, ignoring the array of questions flashing through her eyes.
“If any of you have questions, I’m willing to give you the answers that I can. If I can’t answer, I’ll tell you why. If you don’t have questions today, then maybe tomorrow. Or next week. But I’m always here if you need to talk, if you need anything.”
Always here. He realized the importance of those words. Other people were counting on him. Maggie. She was counting on him, too.
The boy with the lost look shook his head. Michael waited, wondering what he would say, if he would say anything.
“Whatever, man,” the kid whispered. He glared at the table, his jaw muscles clenching.
“Whatever?” Michael took a step forward, stopping when he saw the worried look on Maggie’s face. “What does that mean?”
“It means that adults always say they’re going to ‘be there for you.’ But most of them aren’t.”
“I’m sorry.” Michael was. He was more sorry than he could say that this kid felt that people weren’t there for him. What had happened to create cynicism in someone so young, with so much life ahead of him? “I can’t help what other people have done. But I can tell you that I’m going to be here. And I think that you already know that Maggie is here. She’s always here.”
The kid glanced in Maggie’s direction. He sort of smiled. “Yeah, she’s here.”
Michael didn’t know what that meant, but it frightened him for Maggie’s sake.
The last kid left at six o’clock. Maggie did a final check of the building and walked back to the kitchen where Michael waited for her. She held up her keys.
“Are you ready to go?”
“More than ready. That was more exhausting than I ever imagined. And those guys can really play ball.”
“You’ll get used to it. And don’t forget about Friday night.”
“Friday night?” The puzzled look told her he’d already forgotten.
“Bowling. We try to have a regular activity at least twice a month on Fridays. This Friday is bowling, and I thought you might like to go. Look, if you have something else to do…”
“No, I’ll be here.”
She shrugged and he followed her out the back door. His cell phone rang as she was locking up. As hard as she tried to ignore him, his conversation carried.
“I don’t think I can see you. But if you need help,