Indivisible. Part 35

"I want to not be what I am."

She could almost feel her heart swelling and breaking inside her. "Have you tried?"

"Phobias don't just go away."

"Not by themselves. But maybe it's like baking. You have to start somewhere."

His larynx rose and fell. "I'll have a lemon tart."

She slipped on a glove, grabbed a tissue, and handed one over. "You know what I like? You're a compulsive truth teller. Like me."

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Everyone wants to be with you. I see how they look at you. That guy who sells cars looks at you like you're a juicy steak he wants to gobble up."

Piper laughed. "Doesn't he just."

"He doesn't tell the truth."

"How do you know?"

"I can tell."

"Miles. There might be things you can do to get over it. Tia's a therapist. Maybe she could help."

He lowered his chin and shook his head. "I've tried."

"Some of the things I've tried have not turned out. But I keep trying."

"It's not the same to make a stringy goat-cheese roll. That doesn't hurt people."

"Unless they have to eat it."

He didn't laugh, just sighed.

"All I know is the dough has to rise," she said. "If you bake it before it's ready, it won't turn out. But if you wait too long, the holes get too big."

He gave her a slow blink, then went to a table with his tart-just as the police chief came in. Miles could hardly bolt right in front of him, but he didn't even try.

Jonah slid him a glance, then came to the counter, looking even more ragged than yesterday.

"Are you all right? It seemed like you needed to talk last night."

He paused, then shrugged. "My mother had a heart attack."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"It could have been worse. They've cleaned things up now."

"Tia will wish she'd been there."

"Don't bring it up, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Please. She's dealing with things her own way."

And maybe that was the problem in a nutsh.e.l.l. "Can I get you something?"

"Bear claw. Coffee. To go."

Jonah carried his bag to the table where Miles sat.

Miles slumped like an old stuffed bear. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"There's still the matter of rest.i.tution."

Miles looked up at him, then to where she watched, then back. "You're not taking me to jail?"

Jonah stared at him. "Take care of it yourself, and we won't have to talk again."

A timer rang, and Piper hurried to the kitchen. When she came back, neither man was there. Tucked beside the register, she found an envelope with Tia's name. Inside, ten one-hundred-dollar bills.

Four more hours, Tia estimated, and she would be home. They hadn't discussed details, but she supposed she could live in the house until it sold. She told them she'd be counseling, but she would need to fulfill the licensing requirements, complete an interns.h.i.+p of supervised experience, pa.s.s the NCE, and of course find a place to work-or start her own practice.

Her hands clenched the wheel. Even if she had a doctorate-an MD in brain surgery-her mother still would have said, "What could you possibly know that would help someone?" "What could you possibly know that would help someone?"

At first she had taken courses to keep from losing her mind, then to understand her mind and the minds of others. But that wasn't enough. Faith had found a place, and with it the Hopeline and all the people she'd listened to and prayed with.

What did she know? That it didn't matter what she knew. G.o.d put a spark inside every person and gave her the desire and insight to help them ignite it. If all she did was keep one spark from guttering, then that was enough.

G.o.d! The heart cry came without words. She didn't care about a career, about letters behind her name. She wanted to help people break free of the cages of condemnation, abuse, and fear. To heal their wings and watch them fly. That was the stream of living water from which she'd drink. The heart cry came without words. She didn't care about a career, about letters behind her name. She wanted to help people break free of the cages of condemnation, abuse, and fear. To heal their wings and watch them fly. That was the stream of living water from which she'd drink.

She almost laughed out loud when her cell phone played the tone for a forwarded Hopeline call. At some point she'd really need to earn a wage, but right now, she drew a breath and answered. "Hopeline."

"You said talking helps."

She hadn't recognized the number, but she knew the voice. "It certainly can."

"I want to make an appointment."

"You don't need an appointment. I'm listening now."

"It would be better in person."

"This is the Hopeline number, Miles. It's a prayer line.

"Piper said you're a therapist."

"I have a counseling degree, but I'm not licensed to practice yet."

"I don't care about that."

"But I don't have an office or ..."

"I'll come to the store. To the candle store."

She stared at the great hulking shoulders of the mountains drawing nearer. "I'll meet you there tomorrow, and we can talk about it. Nine o'clock?"

"The store doesn't open until ten."

"That will give us an hour before I have customers."

"Piper liked the candles."

Tia smiled. "She liked them very much."

"You're back!" Eager to hear it all, Piper rushed to Tia and took the overnight tote from her shoulder. "I can't tell if you're happy or sad." She followed Tia up the stairs to unpack.

"Both I guess. Mostly relieved. A little scared."

"You?" Piper heaved the tote onto the bed.

"I told my mother I was through watching the store."

"Wow. How'd that work out?"

"She didn't seem to care." Tia unzipped the bag. "But when she sells the store, she's selling the house too. That's the part that affects you. I don't know how long we'll have here."

"I thought it was your house."

"I've been making the mortgage payments and renting out the room, but my parents hold the t.i.tle. They'll make a killing selling it, the way values have escalated, but I won't see a dime."

"What will you do?" She removed Tia's hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

"I was hoping we could find something together."

Her heart rushed. "I hope so too."

"But honestly? I won't have any income to speak of for a while."

"What about counseling?"

"I have to get licensed. Then I'm starting from scratch, building a client base."

"Miles wants help." Piper stashed the items in the bathroom.

"I talked to him. We're meeting tomorrow to discuss a strategy. If he'll agree to work with me under Carolyn's supervision, it would be a start."

"Do you think he will?"

"He seems motivated." Tia formed a sly smile. "Any guesses why?"

Piper flounced on the bed. "Can you help him?" It surprised her how much she hoped so.

"Phobias can be symptoms of psychosis or trauma. If it's the first, then no. But therapy can be effective for the other."

Piper leaned one ankle against the opposite knee. "He's goofy, but ... he couldn't ever swindle someone."

Tia's eyes softened. "I just hope you're not trying to rescue him to compensate for your family."

"Gosh." She stared up at Tia. "You mean all the people they've taken unfair advantage of?"

"Something like that."

She didn't dismiss the possibility. "Miles is sweet and funny and wants to dump his junk. I just hope he can."

Tia put the last of her clothes into the laundry hamper and zipped the empty bag.

"So ... how did the rest of it go? Was Reba glad to see you?"

"Maybe a little. We didn't have much time. She has a new baby-which I didn't know."

Losers. Creeps. Dolts.

"Anyway, I apologized. Again. Then my mother arrived and showed me the street."

Piper stared into her face. "What is wrong with those people?"

Smiling through the tears, Tia sat down beside her on the bed. "I'd say I committed the unpardonable sin, but they probably think my sin was being born."

"Well, I'm sure glad you were." Piper wrapped her arms around Tia.

Tia hugged her back. "I wish my decision wouldn't mess things up for you."

"We're not there yet."

She nodded. "I have some savings and the merchandise in the store. Miles says a single candle can keep a person from freezing to death."

"Miles!" Piper jumped up and s.n.a.t.c.hed the envelope from the dresser.

Tia took it, puzzled.

"For damages."

She frowned. "I didn't ask-"