All That Really Matters by Nicole Deese (new books to read TXT) 📕

“That’s one possibility, sure.” But I didn’t like pinning things on God that I wasn’t completely certain about. And truth be told, I wasn’t certain about a lot. Not the way Miles was, anyway. And certainly not the way our parents had always been. I believed in God, and I believed in the stories I’d grown up reading and hearing about from the Bible. But my belief in God hadn’t been the issue. It was the other way around. “I’m just happy our paths crossed the way they did.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she felt the same, but it can be tricky,” he said slowly, as if sorting through a bucket of approved statements in search of the right one. “To find the right balance.”

“What balance?” I dug into the ice cream carton for another bite.

“Of helping without overstepping. It’s difficult to see real needs and not want to rush the process to appease our own desire for restoration.”

“Miles, come on. I already said I was joking about stealing her away. I’m not trying to rush any kind of process.”

He shrugged and reached into the chip bag for another handful. “I’m just saying, in my experience, there’s always a bigger picture to take in than what you can see at first glance.”

“Well, while that may be true, I will say that Fir Crest Manor has more security cameras and checkpoints than the airport, so I can assure you there won’t be much missed by any of the staff.” Hmm . . . I wondered if my new mentor position would classify as staff.

I swung my legs over the side of the hideous chair Miles refused to replace. It was corduroy. Bark-brown corduroy, to be exact. But I’d given up on Miles caring a lick about his poor taste in home decor. I’d once offered to fund a furniture renovation for him myself, but he simply told me to redirect the budget to something that mattered more than where he ate takeout. Unless it cost less than ten dollars or could be consumed in a single sitting, Miles wasn’t the best at receiving gifts. “Have you ever seen it? Fir Crest Manor? Silas gave me a full tour tonight.”

“No, we’ve only met at restaurants.”

Absently, I wondered what kind of food Silas might enjoy. Perhaps something sophisticated that required three different types of forks? “It’s incredible, the house. It reminds me of the mansions I used to tour with Mimi when I was a teen. It’s over twelve thousand square feet and has nine rooms, which they’ve mostly converted into classrooms and community areas, and then of course it has large open spaces, too. Oh, and it even has a theater room with all the wiring installed . . . just no screens or seats yet.”

“They have a no-screen theater room?”

I laughed. “Yeah. Actually, some of the rooms are still in the visionary stage. There’s not a lot of furniture to speak of, either. But the residents don’t sleep in the main house. They actually have separate units for the guys and girls on either side of the manor. I think that’s where the bulk of their cash went after they purchased the property.”

“They didn’t purchase it. It was awarded to them—to Silas’s organization, actually.”

I sat up straighter, eager to hear more of whatever intel my brother knew. How was it I was with Silas all evening and that never came up? “What do you mean by awarded?”

“I’m not sure of all the details. I just know that five or six years ago, while Silas was working with a group home in Spokane, an incredibly wealthy man passed away and left that whole estate to a trustee board. They interviewed hundreds of people from all over the country, because there were some pretty specific instructions on what the house could or could not be used for, and Silas was ready. He’d already been working on his nonprofit plan for The Bridge for years, and, well . . .” Miles shrugged. “From what I can recall, his proposal was approved unanimously. I met him shortly after that during a community function.”

“Wow, that’s incredible.”

Miles chuckled. “I’m sure I made it sound much simpler than it actually was. I do know it took him a while to get all the proper licensing and through all the red tape.”

I leaned back in my chair, wishing I could hear the story from Silas’s mouth and subsequently wondering how he’d tell it. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine him bragging on his achievements.

“I’m glad you decided to volunteer out there this summer, Molly,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy since you reached one hundred thousand followers.”

I crinkled my nose. “That was years ago.”

“Just an observation.”

“For the record, I’m happy often. I love my life.”

He simply nodded, doing his whole quiet reflective thing that drove me bonkers. “And Ethan’s good with you spending so much time away from your duties?”

“My duties, as you call them, are managed on a scheduled timeline. Val keeps me organized and on track.”

Miles chuckled. “Ah yes, good ol’ Video Val.”

“Stop calling her that. She’s a real person.”

“How would you know? You’ve never seen her in real life. She could be a really expensive hologram, or part of an AI militia. I just watched a docuseries on that.”

“You and your docuseries.” I rolled my eyes. “She’s not a hologram or any kind of artificial intelligence. She’s a single mom and a brilliant editor and a great friend. See? She’s three in one. Like the trinity of virtual assistants.”

“Your jokes prove you’ve been out of touch with humanity for too long.”

“Anyway,” I said, dragging the word out, “to answer your question, Ethan is thrilled I’m volunteering.”

Miles did nothing to mask his disbelief. “What’s in it for him?”

“A happier girlfriend, obviously.” I flashed a smile at him, and Miles shook his head once but said nothing more on the subject. And neither did I.

We sat with our own munching sounds for the next few minutes until Miles finally picked up the