Page 32 of You're the Reason

“Take it to the dump.” He motioned to the truck sitting in his driveway. “Borrowed Luke’s truck.”

“Can I have it? The chair—not the truck.” Asking for things wasn’t his style, but if Nate was trashing it anyway, then it wasn’t charity.

“Absolutely. There’s a lot of good life left in this baby.”

Olivia stepped to the door. “Don’t let him talk you into it if you don’t want it, Seth. He can’t see how ugly it is.”

“It’s better than what I have.” Which was nothing, but he wouldn’t mention that. In his experience, when people found out he didn’t have stuff, they started with the pity gifts. He didn’t need that—he just needed to get his first paycheck. This chair would make a nice bed until then.

Thirty minutes later, they had managed to get it through the studio door and up the stairs, although they had to step over the tape. Grace had said it was fine, but he could have sworn she cringed while she watched.

They set the old recliner in the center of the room and stepped back.

Nate sank down into the chair and sighed. He obviously was going to miss the thing. “When does the rest of your furniture show up?”

“I don’t need much.”

“Not much, but some.” Nate stood and wandered around the room, pausing at the pile of mail. The invitation to the Ninja Warrior Regionals was sitting on top. He didn’t blame Nate for looking, the thing was colorful enough to be an invitation to a kid’s birthday party. It had even come with blue and red confetti that was now all over his table. He should have just thrown it away. Nate picked it up. “Are you going?”

“Nope.” He didn’t leave room for discussion, and Nate seemed to recognize it.

“If you need some more furniture, I can ask arou?—”

“I can take care of myself.”

Nate stared at him a moment, then marched over to the fridge and opened it. The shelves were empty except for a box of baking soda that Jon had left there. “Obviously. Looks like you don’t need a thing.”

“Once I get my first paycheck?—”

“You can’t wait two weeks to eat.”

“I’ll make do.” Seth walked toward the door. Maybe Nate would get the hint. He still needed to shower for work.

He glanced back, but Nate hadn’t moved. Nate’s eyes were more kind than intense, but it felt like he could see into Seth’s soul. After a moment, he pulled his wallet from his pocket.

“I’m not taking your charity.”

“Not charity. I’m hiring you.”

“To do what?”

“Be my personal trainer.” He patted his middle. “Marriage has been treating me too well. I want to get back in shape. We start today. Here’s your first payment.”

“I’ll train you for free. I’m not taking your money.”

“Seth may train me for free. I’m paying for The Storm.” He pointed to the invitation.

When Seth didn’t move to take the money, Nate shifted his weight, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve been where you are, Seth. Letting people in, letting them help you, letting them care about you isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“Then what is?”

“Going it alone.”

Seth opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Nate held up his hand. “And don’t tell me it has worked so far, because if you were honest with yourself—Grant, Jon, and others have been there for you, and it made a difference. Maybe a friend in town who knows what a life after addiction is like wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Right. He’d forgotten that Pastor Nate’s past was almost as dark as his own. Almost.

When he still didn’t respond, Nate leaned against the wall with one shoulder. “God has given you people who are on your side. Don’t slap His hand away in the name of being self-sufficient.”

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