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“I’m not hungry,” he said, not turning away from the computer in his lap.
She tried not to let his words sting. “Oh. Okay. Well…” She shrugged, trying to put on a positive face. “It’ll be here when you’re ready.” She couldn’t look at the other two men. She didn’t want to see the pitying looks on their faces, or worse, looks that said they agreed with Will’s decision to shut her out.
She looked down at her own helping of spaghetti, her appetite suddenly gone like the bridge near Lecanto in the hurricane. She forced herself to take a few bites. The silence in the house was suffocating her. She set her plate down. “I’m going to step outside for some air.”
Hannah went to the back door and stepped out on the small porch.
A moment later, the door opened behind her. She glanced back to see that Pierce had joined her. She hadn’t even realized she harbored hope that Will would come out, but she had no doubt that he’d sent Pierce out to play watchdog. Will didn’t want her anymore. She was just going to have to accept that.
“Did you finish your dinner?”
Pierce shrugged. “Most of it. Thanks for cooking. Usually, we end up living on gas station cheeseburgers or whatever we can scrounge.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said genuinely. She’d always loved cooking, even offered to do it for her mom and Jeremiah back in the day. Until Jeremiah had declared her food to be utterly disgusting and tossed it at her in a fit of rage.
She hadn’t cooked anymore after that.
But cooking for this team of men felt different. Like she was giving back some small piece of all the care they’d given her since the coffee shop.
Pierce tucked his hands in his pockets. “So, you’re a reporter, huh?”
She gave a half smile. “Trying to be. Not a very good one, I guess.” She shrugged. “I should probably just give it up. Get a job at the Screaming Peach or somewhere with health insurance and just move on.” She sat on one of the iron patio chairs and looked out over the tiny yard, surrounded by a tall wooden fence.
Pierce pulled out a chair for himself, the metal shrieking in protest as he dragged it on the concrete. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? I’m the same age as you. Younger even.” It was easier to deflect and focus on the title instead of the truth of his words. Hannah had never been a quitter.
Pierce’s boyish smile came easily. Why couldn’t she have been hung up on him? He was fun and young and apparently forgave easily. He couldn’t be more different from Will Gilbert.
Will’s smiles were few and far between, but wow. Each one felt like a little gift. And Pierce’s smiles had never made her stomach do somersaults.
Darn.
“I’m not a quitter,” she told him after a while. “But I’ve been trying to be a real reporter for years with nothing to show for it.” A heavy sigh escaped before she could filter it. “Feels like maybe it’s time to move on. See what else God has in store for me.”
“You’re one of those, too?” he asked with an irreverent eyeroll.
“One of what? A Christian?” she asked with a light laugh. “Yeah, I am.”
Pierce looked confused. “Why? Your life sucks.”
This time, her laugh was loud and unchecked. “You’re not wrong,” she said through the laughter. When she finally composed herself, she smiled at him. “People don’t—or at least, they shouldn’t—love God because he makes their life somehow easier. It’s not a magic cure for the problems of this life. I may not have money or a job or a family, but I have God. And I believe that his blessings will come. Maybe on this earth, or maybe in heaven. Either way, I know I’ll be all right.”
Pierce nodded slowly, his eyes on the yard. “I hope you’re right,” he said finally.
“I am. But I know I won’t have any regrets about believing, even if I’m wrong.” She felt the rest of her words laying heavy on her heart, prompting her to say them. “Will you have regrets, Pierce?”
He didn’t answer, just shifted his gaze to his hands.
She stood and headed back inside, laying a hand gently on his shoulder as she passed. “I’m here if you need to talk,” she offered, praying he would take her up on it.
Despite all of Pierce’s light-hearted jokes and boyish charm, there was a hint that he was searching for something. She knew what it was and hoped that he would find it before it was too late. She couldn’t imagine seeing and doing the things that these men had to do without having her faith to lean on. She knew that the same was true for Will. In their conversations, he had admitted his struggles with guilt and evil, but hearing him talk about how his faith gave him hope and strength was really inspiring. It was the same as how she relied on her faith, even when things looked bleak.
When Hannah went back inside, she saw that Will’s plate was no longer on the counter. He was in the same spot on the couch as when she had walked outside. Had he eaten it?
She brushed aside the pointless question. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t his mother.
When she scraped her plate into the trash though, the sight of a full serving of the meal in the trashcan nearly brought her to her knees.
