There You'll Find Me

by Jenny B. Jones

“This one can’t be trusted. Last time she served a guest breakfast, we found her thirty minutes later, sitting at the table rattling on about her earthworm collection.” Erin bit into a piece of sausage. “I like to share my passion for science.”

Sean handed the plate to me, then adjusted the strap of his ruffled apron. “Did I mention I used to ride in a tank for a living?”

“You’re a teenager. It’s all complicated.”

“God will open that door for you.”

“There’s nothing you’re searching for that can’t be found in Ireland—God, good music, beautiful landscapes, wonderful food, maybe even parts of yourself.

I wish i could go

“I’m asking you because . . . you’re different. You’re not into me. I’m not into you. There’s no risk here.” Well, that had all the charm of a razor cut to the ankle.

Beckett Rush was holding my hand. For the purpose of rudely speeding me along. But still. For five whole seconds, his hand covered mine.

She stared at me like I’d just offered her a time-share in the desert.

I took a seat in the chair beside her. Then scooted it back three inches, just in case I needed to make a hasty exit. Or in case she ate children.

“God isn’t exactly hanging out with me these days.” “Nunsense.” She snorted and elbowed me again. “That was a joke.

She set some scales on the stand. “Hard to tell. So much interference with the signal these days.” She set some scales on the stand. “I believe God spoke to you at the cliffs.”

Laughed before the punch line arrived. And it made me miss my family. The way we were. Before we changed. Before we were one less.

Meanwhile, Erin was matched up with some old lady who’d already knit her a hat and matching scarf.

“Find yourself another friend.”

So mean.

“Where was I? Cathleen, Charles, chemist, me daft sister being wrong, oh yes.

A feeling came over me, so powerful it could’ve lit that darkened room. “I . . . I want to pray for you.”

“I guess dropping the potatoes in your lap was a bonding experience.”

“That girl is a . . . Bufo marinus.” “Did you just cuss in scientific terms?” “She’s a toad.”

“I’m an unwed mother?” I hissed. “I’m a diseased baby daddy.”

A hand fell on my shoulder and gave a faint pat. Looking up, I found Mrs. Sweeney watching me through heavy eyelids. “Let it go,” she whispered.

:'(

“This girl didn’t fall in sobs at your feet? She sounds really smart.” He smiled. “So’s the guy she’s dating.”

The song just died. Why couldn’t I simply write a few measures and be done? Why hadn’t anything worked?

“You’re still convinced God doesn’t hear you?” “Would my life be such a mess if he did?” “If you’re doing it all your way, yes.”

Finley, you can’t hear the Lord’s voice over all that distraction, even over the sounds of your own pretty music.”

“You can’t walk on water holding all that weight,” Sister Maria said. “It just makes you sink right down. Let it go, my dear. Your anger isn’t keeping Will’s memory alive.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve totally fallen for you, Finley Sinclair.”