Page 1 of Here With Me

one

It was time, beyond time, to leave Heritage, Michigan, and return to Costa Rica—if only David Williams could convince his directors at Christ in the World Mission that he was ready.

To be needed.

To help people.

To go.

Instead, David was stuck in a tiny town, practically trapped in his late grandparents’ old farmhouse. His only use? Fulfilling his sisters’ designs to turn this place into an Airbnb.

The cool August breeze whispered over his skin as David worked at a makeshift table, a couple of sawhorses for his miter saw, in the driveway of the old farmhouse.

Gravel crunched under tire wheels, but he didn’t need a distraction now.

“Still working I see.” Nate Williams, his cousin, walked across the gravel driveway.

David set the board aside. “These are the last shelves I need to cut to finish up the built-in.”

Picking up one of the freshly cut boards, Nate nodded to the front door. David grabbed the remaining two pieces on the saw, checked to make sure the power was off, and followed Nate toward the front door.

“Heard anything from Lance?” Nate pushed through the door of the old, two-story farmhouse and tossed his keys on the table.

David set the boards against the new built-in he’d constructed in his grandparents’ living room. “Do you know what they decided?”

“I sent off my recommendation yesterday via email, but I’m not part of the meeting today.”

David tried to hold back a wince. He had hoped Nate was part of it. After all, it could only help to have his cousin and pastor of the local church on his side. But maybe the letter from Nate would be enough to convince the board he was well enough to return to his job as a teacher for the children of missionaries in Costa Rica.

Nate ran his hand along the last set of shelves David had installed. “This looks good.”

David grunted a thanks. The shelves did look good. Especially as a backdrop to the two couches and coffee table that his sisters had ordered. They called it “farmhouse chic”—whatever that was. All he knew was that it was the last project his sisters wanted before they listed the place as an Airbnb. Of course, they couldn’t do that until after he returned to Costa Rica. Who knew how many people would want to come vacation in Heritage?

The clock chimed the bottom of the hour. The day was ticking past him at a snail’s pace. With the offices closed for Labor Day, surely the director wouldn’t make him wait until Tuesday for an answer, or would he?

David picked up his cordless drill on the coffee table then pulled a couple of wood screws out of his carpenter’s belt—he was almost out of them. Hopefully he had enough to finish installing the shelves.

David measured and marked where the shelf would go, and Nate stepped closer, taking the shelf and pressing it against the wall. Then he picked up the level and set it on top. “Are you sure you’re ready to leave all this behind and return to Costa Rica? Your sisters have enjoyed having you here these past six months.”

David adjusted the shelf and checked the level. “School is starting next week. I really wanted to be back before this new year began. Besides, I haven’t seen them much. They’re busy with their own lives.” Leah with her new baby, and Caroline had her hands full with two girls and another baby on the way.

David lined up the screw in the predrilled hole then lifted the drill. When his hand started to shake, he lowered it as his gaze shot to Nate. The guy’s stare fixed on the wall—at least he hadn’t seen. He drew a slow breath and stretched his fingers then tried again. This time he connected with the screw. David slipped his hand into his belt for more screws and pulled out the last three. Just his luck. Short three screws for the final shelf. “I’m gonna need to run and pick up more screws to finish these last few shelves.”

“You should have messaged. I could have stopped at Hoover’s on my way over.”

Hoover’s. The local hardware store—the one he’d turned his back on all those years ago. No way could he shop there now. It would be easier to drive to Ludington.

“I’ll run to Lowe’s.” David looked at the time. Three forty-five. “But I’d like to be here when that call from Lance comes in. I hate talking and driving.”

“You don’t have to continue to hide out here.” Nate walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water at the sink.

Hiding hadn’t crossed his mind. But he liked to keep the past in the past.

David followed, pulling out a root beer from the fridge. He opened the top, and the pop fizzed before he took a long drink, taking his time to respond to Nate. They’d had this conversation a few times now. “I get out. Talk to people when I do.”

“You’ve been home six months, and you’ve hardly left the house.”

“I’ve counted every day I’ve been here. That’s why I need to get back.” David picked up his wallet and keys to his grandpa’s Subaru Brat and walked to the front door.

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