have.
A person couldn't put drain cleaner in their body without doing serious damage.
"Michael Carson, long time no see." Vince leaned in the window. "How's church life?"
"Fine, it's working for me."
"Is it, Mike, or are you just making a good show of recovery?"
Michael stared straight ahead, finding the answer that he needed. "Draw your own conclusions, Vince."
Vince laughed. "You were always a hard one to figure. I'm not sure yet if I even want to talk to you. But I do know one thing. You owe me."
"That's your opinion." Michael reached to turn off the radio. "I have to go."
"See you soon?" Vince put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "You know, Mike, I don't like to play games. If I find out that you're playin' me, you'll be sorry."
"I'm not playin' you, Vince. I'm trying to stay out of jail." He moved his shoulder, shaking Vince's hand free. "I might see you around."
Vince stepped back from the car and Michael pulled away. His heart raced in his chest, needing a way out. He needed a way out. This time, though, he wasn't alone. If God was for him, who could be against him?
He had something else to keep him moving forward. He had Maggie and the kids at church. For the first time in a long time he felt needed, and like he could be of use to someone.
* * *
Michael's first outing with the kids, and Maggie almost felt sorry for him. She had watched him climb into the driver's seat of the van full of teens, looking slightly on edge. Were the tight lines around his mouth due to the kids or had something else happened? Probably the kids. They could be an overwhelming bunch. Especially when ten of them showed up, like tonight.
Ten teenagers, two adults and one twelve-passenger van, on their way to the bowling alley. Maggie wondered if this would fit her grandmother's idea of a promising date.
She glanced sideways at Michael, who had insisted on driving. His concentration was on the road, but from time to time he glanced into the rearview mirror to check on the kids. From beneath half-closed eyes she studied his profile, strong with a generous mouth that smiled often, and hazel eyes flecked with green. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she knew the color. His steady gaze often connected with hers, startling her with the intensity of his attention.
He glanced her way and caught her staring.
"Something on my face?" He grinned and then flicked his attention back to the road.
"No." She forced a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." And she couldn't finish, because she wouldn't lie. The truth would have sounded ridiculous. I'm staring at you because you're so stinking gorgeous you don't look real. Or maybe, It scares me to be here in the dark with you and I'm glad we have ten teenagers to keep us honest.
Both thoughts were so out of character that she quickly pushed them aside. These were "Faith" thoughts. Faith was the quirky one. Maggie had always been pegged as the serious one. Her entire life she had been the kid the teachers labeled as "shy" and often keeping to herself. Her mother would read the notes on the back of the grade card and ask her why she didn't play with the other kids.
The list had been long. She felt silly in her yard-sale clothing, the other kids teased her for being shy and they asked why she didn't have a dad.
Faith hadn't come along until later in her life to drag her out of her shell. And Maggie had been there for Faith when she'd struggled with cancer treatments.
"I should probably warn you that I've never been bowling." He slowed to make the turn into the parking lot of the bowling alley.
"You've never bowled?" Now he tells her.
"Don't act so surprised, millions of people haven't. It wasn't on my mother's list of lessons we took." He shot her a grin and winked. "But I can speak two languages and waltz…if that would help."
"Probably not. Don't worry, we can teach you to bowl."
"That's what I was afraid of." He continued to smile as he pulled into a parking place. "Is there any
A person couldn't put drain cleaner in their body without doing serious damage.
"Michael Carson, long time no see." Vince leaned in the window. "How's church life?"
"Fine, it's working for me."
"Is it, Mike, or are you just making a good show of recovery?"
Michael stared straight ahead, finding the answer that he needed. "Draw your own conclusions, Vince."
Vince laughed. "You were always a hard one to figure. I'm not sure yet if I even want to talk to you. But I do know one thing. You owe me."
"That's your opinion." Michael reached to turn off the radio. "I have to go."
"See you soon?" Vince put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "You know, Mike, I don't like to play games. If I find out that you're playin' me, you'll be sorry."
"I'm not playin' you, Vince. I'm trying to stay out of jail." He moved his shoulder, shaking Vince's hand free. "I might see you around."
Vince stepped back from the car and Michael pulled away. His heart raced in his chest, needing a way out. He needed a way out. This time, though, he wasn't alone. If God was for him, who could be against him?
He had something else to keep him moving forward. He had Maggie and the kids at church. For the first time in a long time he felt needed, and like he could be of use to someone.
* * *
Michael's first outing with the kids, and Maggie almost felt sorry for him. She had watched him climb into the driver's seat of the van full of teens, looking slightly on edge. Were the tight lines around his mouth due to the kids or had something else happened? Probably the kids. They could be an overwhelming bunch. Especially when ten of them showed up, like tonight.
Ten teenagers, two adults and one twelve-passenger van, on their way to the bowling alley. Maggie wondered if this would fit her grandmother's idea of a promising date.
She glanced sideways at Michael, who had insisted on driving. His concentration was on the road, but from time to time he glanced into the rearview mirror to check on the kids. From beneath half-closed eyes she studied his profile, strong with a generous mouth that smiled often, and hazel eyes flecked with green. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she knew the color. His steady gaze often connected with hers, startling her with the intensity of his attention.
He glanced her way and caught her staring.
"Something on my face?" He grinned and then flicked his attention back to the road.
"No." She forced a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." And she couldn't finish, because she wouldn't lie. The truth would have sounded ridiculous. I'm staring at you because you're so stinking gorgeous you don't look real. Or maybe, It scares me to be here in the dark with you and I'm glad we have ten teenagers to keep us honest.
Both thoughts were so out of character that she quickly pushed them aside. These were "Faith" thoughts. Faith was the quirky one. Maggie had always been pegged as the serious one. Her entire life she had been the kid the teachers labeled as "shy" and often keeping to herself. Her mother would read the notes on the back of the grade card and ask her why she didn't play with the other kids.
The list had been long. She felt silly in her yard-sale clothing, the other kids teased her for being shy and they asked why she didn't have a dad.
Faith hadn't come along until later in her life to drag her out of her shell. And Maggie had been there for Faith when she'd struggled with cancer treatments.
"I should probably warn you that I've never been bowling." He slowed to make the turn into the parking lot of the bowling alley.
"You've never bowled?" Now he tells her.
"Don't act so surprised, millions of people haven't. It wasn't on my mother's list of lessons we took." He shot her a grin and winked. "But I can speak two languages and waltz…if that would help."
"Probably not. Don't worry, we can teach you to bowl."
"That's what I was afraid of." He continued to smile as he pulled into a parking place. "Is there any
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