Page 46 of Bidding on a Second Chance
“She’s already more optimistic. I just was hoping we’d have smooth sailing long enough that she’d really trust God again.”
“Smooth sailing doesn’t result in deeper trust. We learn we can rely on God when we choose faith in stormy seas.” Cody had a point, even if he added flair to the last two words, as if he thought he deserved an award for carrying the metaphor through. “If you’re not the one to break the news, it’ll be a lot worse.”
More truth, plain and simple. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Sooner than later.”
Graham nodded. As soon as he could find the right way to say it.
* * *
Graham rehearsed what he’d say to Piper as he drove to her house on Monday morning. The sun slanted yellow between the houses and illuminated the snow with a warm glow.
Too bad his mood was as dark as a storm cloud at the prospect of telling Piper about the robbery. Finishing up the furniture would give him an excuse to continue to spend time in her store, and maybe she’d fall for him despite herself.
But only if God helped her past her fear.
He sighed as he shifted his truck into park. After a knock, he let himself in the back door. The scooter waited at the top of the stairs. He deposited it in the truck and came back. Teddy skittered across the kitchen floor, all paws and clumsy balance.
Piper would have a seventy-pound dog on her hands in no time. He clipped a leash on the puppy, then set the ball of energy back on the floor, unable to match that level of enthusiasm and spirit when he was about to lose Piper. Again. “All set?”
“Yes.” She stepped in from the living room without a scooter or a crutch. Slow and stiff, she worked her way toward him.
Since what he had to tell her could result in this being the last time they did this, Graham took her hand as she braved the first stair. He held her hand down the steps and all the way to the truck.
Once they’d settled in the cab, he backed the truck onto the road. “How was your weekend? We hardly got to talk at church yesterday.”
“Whose fault is that?” she teased.
“Sorry.” He’d arrived late, and then she’d gotten tied up in conversations afterward. He could’ve waited for her to wrap them up, but he’d thought the story of the robbery would be best told in the privacy of Second Chances this morning. Bryce was at school, not waiting for her to feed him lunch, and since the store didn’t open for a couple of hours, they could talk as long as they needed to.
“Well, if you must know, Bryce and I had a bit of a rough patch. He told me he’d rather live with his dad. That he hates it with me.”
“He’s a kid. Don’t take it personally.”
“It’s hard not to. And the whole thing has me wondering what’ll happen when Ryan tells him the truth. I mean, if the road’s this bumpy now, what’ll he do when he’s mad at his dad, too? Kent mentioned my brother was mad at the world back in high school. What if Bryce ends up the same way?”
“Hey.” Graham flipped on his signal to turn onto Main Street. “You’re not supposed to worry like this, remember?”
He stopped at the sign on the corner and spared her a glance, willing her to recover. He needed her to be able to handle a tiff with Bryce. If she couldn’t, what were the odds she’d take the robbery in stride?
“You’re right.” Her smile seemed rueful. “It’s still hard sometimes. I want everything to turn out amazingly for him. I hate feeling like I’m not doing right by him or like no matter what I do, I can’t guarantee the future I want for him.”
“You’re doing a good job, Piper.” He put the vehicle back in motion. “Everyone has a rough morning now and then. Don’t read too much into each little hiccup.”
“Maybe. He does seem a lot better today.” A block passed. “Anyway, how about your weekend?”
The innocent question tied his organs in knots. This had to be how people felt when he pulled them over for a minor traffic violation while they had a carload of contraband. He focused on safely parking behind Second Chances. He had planned to tell her this morning, but how had he planned to word it again? As if spinning the situation would help him any more than it’d help a suspect. He’d been trained to read people, and though Piper might not be able to apply that skill to strangers, she knew how to read him.
Piper’s feather-light touch on his forearm should’ve barely registered through his winter jacket, but his chest jolted like she’d zapped him with a defibrillator. “You seem tense. Is it because the Quick Stop was robbed?”
Another jolt. “You heard?”
She nodded, eyes sad but forehead unfurrowed. “Lucy texted me a picture of the article that ran this morning. I see why you were worried to mention it to me.”
“You do?”
Then why was she calm? Perhaps she hadn’t been growing attached to him the way he’d imagined she was. The only alternative explanation, almost too good to be true, was she’d learned to trust.
