Page 71 of Share with Me

Brinley remembered the corner stain on the popcorn kitchen ceiling when they had arrived from church for lunch. Probably a leaky roof up there. And before that, Aunt Ella had almost tripped on those unnerving loose pine boards on the porch. If Brinley had her way, she’d call Tobias Vega right away—

This is not my house.

Why did she feel strongly, then? In her heart, she knew she couldn’t help it. She wanted to make life easier for him, for his grandma. Yet what Dad had told her when they went around St. Simon’s and Brunswick and Jekyll buying up foreclosed properties came to mind.

Sometimes the best way to help people is to let them go through the difficulties. Bailing them out would short-circuit their life lessons.

“I’m sorry, Ivan.”

“What for?” Ivan was running water over a large pot.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“I know.”

Brinley watched Ivan squirt dish liquid into the large pot. He swirled the soapy water with his hand.

“Let me help load the dishwasher.” Brinley reached for the door.

“The dishwasher is broken.” Ivan dropped forks and knives into the large pot that he had turned into a wash basin.

“Oh.”

“It has been broken for years.”

Years?“Why is it still here?”

“There’d be a hole there if we take it out.” He paused. “And I don’t know how to remove it.”

“That’s easy. I’ll call Toby—”

“No. Don’t call anyone.”

Brinley remembered overstepping with the plumber. “I’m sorry.”

Ivan stopped what he was doing and wiped his hands on the dishcloth hanging off the door pull below the sink.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. Ever wonder why I didn’t date for six years? I can’t afford it, Brin. I can’t bring a girl to this dump. I can’t let her see where I live. And here you are.”

And here I am.

Brinley tried to choose her words carefully. It seemed to be a touchy issue. What could she say to ameliorate his angst? Maybe something Yun would say? Well, Yun would refer back to God.

“What do you think your Bible would say about it?” Brinley caught herself by surprise at what came out of her mouth, but it seemed to surprise Ivan more.

“My Bible?”

As if he was asking, “What do you know about my Bible?”

“I was thinking that when I had tea with your grandma on Friday, she talked about the Bible a lot. Seems to me it would have the answer to your po— uh, problem.”

Whew. Good thing she didn’t saypoverty.

“The Bible says I should trust God.” Ivan started washing the silverware. “I’ve been trusting God for years and still things have been bad for us.”

“Let me try to understand this,” Brinley said. “Trusting someone implies trusting his take on things, right?”

“Pretty much.”

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