“So you were avoiding me.” There’s a bite to my words I can’t seem to control. “Why? Did I dosomething to offend you?”
“No,” she whispers.
“Say something?”
“No.”
“I don’t . . . understand.”
“I guess I was embarrassed.” She ducks her head, her blonde hair shielding her face. “You’ve always been there.”
I lift my hands up and throw them down to my sides. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’d think that was a good thing.”
“But you saw everything. Every mistake, every flaw, every stumble—no matter how I fell short, you were there to witness it. And that’s just of what I remember. Drunken moments where I blacked out or the missing memories from my head trauma. Sometimes I wonder what else I can’t remember. What did I say? What did I do? How many more apologies do I need to make?” Her head tilts up, and I catch the watery haze in her silver eyes. “You were a reminder of all my mistakes.”
“Reese...” I kneel next to her. “I’m not going to apologize for being there for you. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. I was watching out for you because I care what happens to you... maybe cared more than I realized back then. You are and always have been special to me. Even before you started drinking, I’ve had to keep an eye on you because I knew your family wasn’t going to do it. Des was lost in his head most days, and your granny couldn’t keep up at her old age. I prayed about you a lot, and to be honest, I still do. But I don’t think just my prayers are enough. When is the last time you prayed?”
Her lips quiver. “Des did when?—”
“I didn’t ask about your brother. I asked about you.”
Rubbing her chest, she lets out a long sigh of defeat. “A long time ago.”
“It’s an easy fix, you know?”
“Nothing about me iseasy.”
She blinks, focusing on the tire. With a quick jerk, she dislodges the nail from the rubber. A high-pitched whistle sounds, the tire deflating even faster. She jams a piece covered in clear goop into the hole and quickly yanks it out, the odd piece wedged inside, plugging up the hole.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Now we wait for the rubber cement to dry. It needs about ten minutes before we can inflate the tire.” Her hand catches mine, linking our fingers together. “Be honest. Do you think I made a mistake letting Des purchase this motorhome? I’m supposed to be a good mechanic, yet I missed all these problems. Des’s repair bill keeps ticking up. I’m worried we are going to roll into Rocosa on a unicycle.”
“I think it’s impossible to predict every worst-case scenario. But you tried your best with your Mary Poppins suitcase. Though I wonder if God is slowing us down on purpose.”
She blinks. “What? Why?”
Tapping my fingers on my thighs, I debate my answer, knowing it’s a touchy subject for her.
“My mom used to say it was God calling us back to Him. We never need Him as much in the good times as we do in the bad. But really, we should need Him all the time.”
She chews on her lip, lost in thought. “What about my granny? Why would He allow her to suffer like that?” Her fingers clamp around mine, almost painful. “She was a good person, Tris. Better than I could ever be.”
A broken shadow hovers behind her eyes, a haunted expression that has my heart clenching in sympathy. How long has she been grappling with her doubts and hurting in silence? I plop to the ground and throw my arms around her, pulling her close onto my lap. If I could take her pain, I would.
“Oh, Reese... She wasn’t being punished. We live in a fallen world, destroyed by sin. It’s not meant to be perfect, norare we. But it doesn’t mean God loves us less. In fact, He loves us more. He never gives up on us, even when we push Him away.”
“I think I’ve done a lot of pushing too,” she says into the fabric of my shirt.
My hand brushes over her hair and down her back.
“Is this why you haven’t been back to church?” I ask quietly.
“It’s hard to worship what you don’t understand.”
“There’s a name for that—faith. Still believing through the doubt. Have you prayed for answers?”
“I didn’t think to.”
