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.”
“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.