optimist. âYouâre right.â
âReady to go?â Jay stood in her yard, Wrangler jeans, a button-down shirt and his puka-shell necklace. She smiled, because she couldnât help herself. She liked that he had these two sides of his personality.
âIâm ready to go.â She smiled when Bailey kissed her cheek. âThanks, Bay. You mean the world to me.â
âDitto, chick.â
Bailey walked down the steps, punching Jay a little on the arm. âTake care of her. Sheâs my best friend.â
âWill do.â He shifted a little and looked down, his cheeks red.
Lacey pulled her door closed and twisted the knob to make sure it was locked. And then she walked across the lawn with Jay.
It felt worse than a first date.
It was anything but.
âClimb in.â Jay opened the passenger-side door and she obeyed, really not seeing the running board, and then falling over it. A strong hand caught her arm from behind and held her steady.
âVery graceful.â He said it with a smile that she could hear. âYouâre two for nothing on the accident scale.â
Lacey turned, frowning, and he was still smiling, a smile that showed dazzling teeth and the tiniest dimple in his chin.
âThanks.â She smiled back.
âYouâre welcome. Do you need help?â
He was teasing and that helped, for a second she forgot the case of nerves that was twisting her insides.
âIâm fine, and you can let go now.â She slid into the seat, aware of the place his hand had rested on her arm.
The truck was still running and Casting Crowns played on the CD player, songs of worship, loud and vibrant. She fastened her seatbelt and leaned back, waiting for him to get in. He did, bringing with him that freshly showered and spicy-cologne scent of his.
âLacey, you have to stop thinking Iâm the enemy.â He reached to turn the music down. âIâm sorry for knowing about you, aboutâ¦â
âMy record.â She looked out the window, watching farmland slip past them. Gentle hills, green fields, a few houses and barns. Not St. Louis, city streets and crowded neighborhoods of people getting by the best way they knew how. Some did better than others.
Laceyâs family had been one of the families not making it at all. Never any security or hope, just scraping and trying to survive.
âWeâve all done things.â Jay tried, she knew he really tried. He didnât get it. He couldnât.
âWhat have you done?â She turned away from the window to look at him. âWell?â
He didnât answer, but he smiled a little smile, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them. Both hands on the wheel in driverâs-ed position. He did everything by the book.
âDid you maybe sneak behind the barn and smoke once, years ago? It made you choke, might have made you sick, and you never tried it again?â
He laughed. âWere you watching?â
âNo, but I can picture your skinny little self out there with a friend, sneaking around with your contraband, your little hearts racing, hoping you didnât get caught.â
He laughed, and Lacey laughed, too. And it felt good. It felt like a moment of normal in a crazy, mixed-up world. A world that for a time had been on its axis, turning smoothly.
âYou picture me as a skinny little kid, huh?â
âYou werenât?â
âI was.â
âI know. Your mom showed me pictures.â
He groaned at that and shook his head. âOf course she did. So you see, weâve all done things.â
He didnât understand feeling dirty. He didnât know what it meant to walk down the aisle of the Gibson Community Church, wondering if it would be like the other times she had gone to church, wanting to be loved and walking out lonelier than ever.
She closed her eyes, remembering that first week in Gibson, when sheâd gone to church and she had gone
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