Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
I’d like to tell him I don’t like him and I don’t like his friends, so it’s unreasonable to expect I would want to go out with any of them after a football game I frankly don’t care about, but I can’t, because he brought a tiny, adorable, raven-haired buffer.
He doesn’t seem to expect a reply. “Think about it,” he tells me, before turning and heading toward the door with the little girl.
Just as he’s opening the door to leave, I notice he left his gift card on the counter. “Carter, wait! You forgot your gift card.”
“No, I didn’t,” he calls back, just before the door closes.
I frown at the door, then hesitantly pick up the gift card. It takes a few seconds before I take his meaning.
He bought the gift card for me?
Chapter 7
Payday is the best day, but it’s even sweeter this week. Instead of hoping against hope there’ll be something I’ll want to read in the clearance section, I browse the full-price aisles. This week, I get books from the very top of my to-read list, and when I hit the clearance section just to make sure I’m not missing anything, I have the extra funds to pick up a book for my younger brother. It’s satisfying when my manager rings up my selections and instead of paying with a portion of my hard-earned income, it’s as easy as swiping a gift card.
I did briefly consider the moral ramifications of using a gift card Carter Mahoney bought for me. On one hand, it could probably be looked at as selling myself out for $50 worth of books. But I haven’t sold myself out at all. I don’t like him any more for leaving the gift card behind; I just figured since he did, I might as well put it to good use.
I meet Grace for iced coffee after I pick up my check. She shows me more pictures of her new puppy, shares snippets of Bible study at me, and takes a two second video of us drinking iced coffee and flashing peace signs. It’s a thing Grace does—she takes a quick two seconds out of every day and records it, then at the end of the month, she reviews them and tells everyone in her youth group about all the blessings she has experienced.
As she reviews today’s clip, she shakes her head and tells me, “I’ve already experienced so many blessings this month. Mama giving me Scout, coffee dates with my best friend. I wonder what else the month has in store for me.”
“All good things, I hope.”
Beaming up at me, she puts down her phone. “Have you had many blessings this week?”
Have I? If I didn’t have to explain, I would probably count my bookstore gift card a random blessing that I appreciate, but the deliverer poses a moral dilemma and I don’t want to lie.
“Here’s a quandary for you,” I tell her. “Hypothetically, say the devil sent me a blessing. Would that still count? Would I be ethically compelled to forfeit said blessing?”
Frowning, Grace sits backs, sips her drink, and mulls it over. “Well, are you sure the devil sent the blessing? Some blessings come in disguise.”
“I’m fairly certain. In this scenario, let’s say the blessing came from a very bad person. A gift from someone who wronged you.”
Her tone is immediately more dismissive. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t say that’s from the devil at all. I’d say that sounds more like…” She pauses, trying to find a way to word her thoughts. “Sometimes good things come from unexpected places. Sometimes a blessing might be rooted in evil intent, but there might be an opportunity to reclaim grace and glory, to lead someone onto the right path.” Barely missing a beat, she leans forward and meets my gaze. “Is Jake tryin’ to make amends for what he did?”
Shaking my head, I watch the trail of condensation on my cup rather than look at her. “No, it’s not about Jake. It was just a hypothetical.”
“Well, it sounds to me like maybe you have a chance to act with love and make a difference,” she states, stubbornly. “There’s nothing wrong with standing up for yourself, Zoey, but sometimes forgiveness does more good for everyone. I know he behaved so inappropriately, but maybe this is his chance to learn something, to start on a path toward being a better person. You should invite him to church. I know he already goes to one, but… well, that didn’t stop him from groping you, so maybe it’s not such a good fit for him. Maybe he’d like ours better. Pastor James is younger, more relatable. Maybe he’d get more out of our services than the one he goes to now.”
“Again, this is not about Jake,” I tell her.
Grace frowns. “Well, who else has wronged you?”