You Don't Know Me by Susan May Warren

Author:Susan May Warren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Romance, FICTION / Romance / Contemporary
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2012-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Annalise’s words had skewered Frank right through. There’s no happy ending for people like me.

Certainly there had to be. He couldn’t be the guy who destroyed her life—again.

The football game played in the next room, in the final quarter, but he sat at the kitchen table in the darkness, drinking a cup of nuked coffee, too on edge to watch.

Instead, his gaze fixed on Helen’s light shining like a beacon.

Nathan had nearly glared him right out of the pew this morning. But what was Frank to do—trust that Garcia wouldn’t find them in the house of God?

Although his gun tucked into his ankle holster had felt just a smidge irreverent. And really, did they have to sit near the front? What happened to being a good Baptist and filling up the back row?

But they’d survived church, and frankly, sitting there, singing “Amazing Grace” and “How Great Thou Art,” along with a mix of contemporary praise songs, had stirred a dormant thirst inside him. Margaret had been a churchgoer, and when they first married, they’d attended together. But then he began to travel, and his schedule became so busy . . .

Still, that pastor had some good words, and they rang in Frank’s head as he stared out the window at the light. “He redeems me from death and crowns me with love and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things. My youth is renewed like the eagle’s!”

Being here with Annalise and her family, with Helen, he felt redeemed from the death that had become his life. Felt again like a young man every time Helen looked at him.

I knew I didn’t deserve to be happy.

Maybe none of them did. But suddenly he wanted to try.

He took another sip of coffee. Then he put it down, grabbed his jacket, and slipped out the front door.

He had a moment of pause right after he knocked when he heard voices inside. Oh, what if—?

“Frank.” Helen stood in the door, dressed in flannel pants, an oversize sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a hair clip. A movie played behind her—something in black-and-white. “Come in.”

Her house smelled like apple pie, and the dishwasher hummed below the voices on the screen. Only the glow of a lamp lit the family room, where she’d created a nest with a red afghan on the old tweed sofa.

“I interrupted you.”

“You interrupted Bing Crosby. After the dance the other night, I was in the mood for a musical.” She walked over to the sofa, picked up the remote, and turned off the television.

The room went quiet with the exception of his thundering heart. His palms were sweating, so he shoved them into his pockets.

Good grief, he felt like a teenager on a date.

“Would you like some coffee?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Okay, maybe he knew, just a little. For one moment, he wanted to be someone safe and honest. Not fake Uncle Frank, but Frank, a guy who lived in an empty house in Portland, surrounded by memories he didn’t make.

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