I stared at him, trying to understand his angle. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I failed you once,” he said, his eyes earnest. “I don’t want to do it again.”
Something in my chest twisted painfully. For a brief moment, I considered it. Considered letting someone in, letting someone help. But then I remembered all those nights on the street, all those years of struggling alone.
“Thanks, but I’m good where I am,” I said, standing up. “Pastor Mike’s place is fine.”
Brooks nodded slowly, disappointment clear on his face. “Offer stands if you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” I assured him, dropping a five on the counter and heading for the door without ordering.
The cool evening air hit my face as I stepped outside, bringing with it a momentary clarity. I took a deep breath, trying to push down the emotions Brooks had stirred up. I didn’t come back to make peace or rebuild bridges. I came back to collect my inheritance and leave. Nothing more.
As I walked back toward the parsonage, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number.
???: This is Mike. Maggy gave me your number from your sign-in sheet. Just checking if you’re coming back for dinner? Made extra.
I stared at the message, unsure how to respond. The thought of going back to that house, of facing those blue eyes and that genuine smile, made something uncomfortable stir in my gut. But I was hungry, and the alternative was going back to Dolly’s where Brooks might still be sitting. And he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.
I texted back before I could overthink it.
Me: On my way
When I reached the parsonage, the smell of something delicious wafted from inside. My stomach growled in response. I hesitated at the door, suddenly aware that I was walking back into a situation I’d tried to manipulate earlier. Would Mike mention what happened? Would he pretend nothing had occurred?
Only one way to find out.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, following the smell to the kitchen where Mike stood at the stove, stirring something in a large skillet. He’d put a shirt on, I noticed with a mix of disappointment and relief.
“Hope you like taco salad,” he said without turning around. “It’s about the only thing I can make well. Goes over well at potlucks too.”
“Smells good,” I admitted, hovering awkwardly in the doorway.
Mike glanced over his shoulder, those blue eyes meeting mine briefly before returning to the pot. “Grab a bowl. It’s ready when you are.”
I did as instructed, taking a bowl from the cabinet. Mike tipped the browned beef into a big bowl he’d already filled with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and what looked like crushed up Doritos. He took my bowl and filled it generously, the rich, spicy aroma making my mouth water as he passed it back.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the bowl to the small kitchen table.
Mike joined me a moment later with his own bowl, setting a bottle of ranch between us. I began to eat immediately, but he stopped, clasping his hands together.
“Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord. Amen,” he said softly.
“Do you really think God cares about that?” I asked, glancing up at him. “You made the food. What did he have to do with it?”
Mike smiled despite my rude tone. He was always smiling. “I’m not sure. It’s more of a force of habit now. My parents always said a prayer before meals so I just keep doing it.” He gave a small shrug before picking up his fork. “But then again, I feel like you can’t be too careful, you know? I’ll take all the heaven points I can get.”
“Heaven points?” I scoffed. “Are you serious?”
He just grinned. “It was a joke.”
“A pastor that jokes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What will they come up with next?”
Mike laughed, a warm sound that somehow made me want to smile despite my determination to stay annoyed with him. “We’re not all fire and brimstone, you know. Some of us can actually take a joke.”
I shoved another forkful of taco salad into my mouth to avoid responding. It was good.Reallygood, actually. The spices were perfect, and the crunch of the Doritos added texture that made the whole dish work.
“This is decent,” I admitted grudgingly.
