Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I nod, understanding that her experience might have been less than positive. “Well, hopefully, we can make it a bit more interesting for Nate.”
As I speak, I notice Nate coloring on my calendar. Smiling, I walk over and gently slide a children’s book and a box of crayons from the youth group drawer across the desk. “Here, Nate, you might enjoy coloring in this instead.”
Nate looks up, his face lighting up at the sight of the new crayons and book. “Thanks,” he exclaims, quickly diving into his new activity.
Returning to Eva, I see a hint of relief in her eyes. “I’m glad he’s enjoying himself,” she says softly, her gaze lingering on her son.
“Church doesn’t have to be boring,” I say with a smile. “It can be a place of learning and discovery, especially for children.”
She smiles back, though there's a trace of uncertainty. “I hope so. I want Nate to have a different experience than I did.”
“Can I ask about him? Why hasn’t he come to church with you yet?”
Eva’s face morphs into one of disappointment, sadness etching deep lines in her features. “Nate’s father has custody. It hasn’t been easy.”
The whole picture clicks into place instantly. The reason she needs money, why she’s taken the job at Club Greed and disguises herself—it’s all becoming clearer. Every sacrifice, every clandestine action, is for Nate.
“I’m so sorry, Eva,” I say softly, the weight of her struggles pressing down on my heart. “That must be incredibly difficult.”
She nods, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “It is. I miss him every day we’re apart, but I’m doing everything I can to get him back. That’s why I need the money so badly—to fight for custody. His father... he’s not a good man. Nate deserves better.”
I feel a surge of compassion and a renewed determination to help her. “I understand now. We’ll do everything we can to support you. You’re not alone in this.”
Eva looks at me, a mix of gratitude and vulnerability in her gaze. “Thank you, Father Carmichael. Your support means more than you know.”
As we speak, Nate remains blissfully unaware, his focus entirely on his coloring. He’s so innocent even though there's this whole adult world swirling around him. I watch him for a moment, his small fingers carefully choosing crayons, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. This little boy is at the heart of everything Eva is fighting for.
Determined to lighten the mood, I gesture toward Nate and say, “He’s quite the artist. Maybe we have a future Picasso here.”
Eva smiles through her tears, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “He loves to draw. It’s one of the few things that always makes him happy.”
“Well, we’ll make sure he has plenty of opportunities to express his creativity here,” I assure her. “And remember, we’re here for you too. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Eva nods, her expression a bit brighter now. “Thank you. It means a lot to have someone to turn to.”
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound being the soft scritch-scratch of Nate’s crayon on paper.
I have so many more questions brimming, wanting to be asked, but I can’t voice them. For the most part, I just want to be close to her. To wrap an arm around her and make her feel seen. But that’s not how a priest acts. I need to remember why I’m here. And it’s not to sprout feelings for a single mother or to take advantage of her. She needs me as a priest, as somebody willing to help her in her time of need.
It makes everything different now.
I stand, trying to shift the mood. “Want to play on the playground?”
Nate’s face erupts into laughter. “Yes, I love the slide. Is there a slide?”
I nod with a genuine smile. “A big one. Let’s go, and Mommy will take your new coloring book and crayons home for you.”
“Can I take them to Daddy’s house?” Nate asks his mother, and I see Eva’s face fall flat at the question, the weight of their situation pressing down.
But she recovers quickly, her voice steady. “Sure thing.”
We head outside to the playground, and the afternoon light filters through the trees, casting a warm glow over the scene. Eva and I sit together on the swings, their gentle creaking the only sound besides Nate’s joyous shouts as he runs around us, going up and down the slide over and over.
“Thank you for this. You’re a good man,” Eva says, her voice sincere. A dark shadow passes over my face as I hear her words.
I’m not as good as she thinks I am. In fact, it wasn’t very long ago I was somebody completely different.
I watch Nate play, his laughter filling the air. Eva’s gratitude and trust only make my internal conflict more pronounced. I’m supposed to be a guide, a source of strength, but the feelings I have for her threaten to undermine everything.