“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.
“Are you going to share the reasons?”
“No, I’m not.” She stepped down from the table and stood a short distance from him. “I think it’s enough that you know that I’m really trying. And I want you to succeed.”
“That’s something, I guess.” He tossed his soda can into a nearby recycling bin. “See you tomorrow, Maggie.”
She watched him walk away wondering if she could have said more. Of course she could have, she just didn’t know what it would have been.
Chapter Four
Michael left church on Sunday afternoon without being caught by any well-meaning parishioners or Maggie. He needed to get away, to escape the prying eyes that watched with open curiosity. And after the way their conversation had ended yesterday, he didn’t want to talk to Maggie.
What he didn’t need was company. The car parked in his driveway came as a surprise and a letdown. He felt his insides tighten at the thought of company, another person wanting to see how he was doing.
The door of the convertible opened and a man stepped out. Michael pulled up next to the car, finding a smile for Jimmy Grey, a longtime friend, and someone he hadn’t seen in four long years. Jimmy had been one of the few friends who had written letters.
“About time you got home.” Jimmy flashed his big smile. His curly blond hair was cut short, keeping the curls in control to some degree.
“I was