Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (2 page)

The
moment
the
words
were
out
of
her
mouth,
Aggie
regretted
them.
Before
she
could
try
to
take
them
back
and
apologize,
a
spider
crawled
lethargically
over
her
toe,
making
her
jump.
Luke’s
foot
came
down
on
the
critter
before
she
had
a
chance
to
wonder
how
it
had
survived
so
long
in
the
cold.

Aggie
glanced
up,
expecting
to
meet
his
eyes
but
found
them
downcast.
“You
know,
you’re
a
handy
guy
to
have
around.”

“
I’d
be
happy
to
stomp
spiders
for
you
for
the
rest
of
your
life,”
he
whispered
before
turning
to
leave.

She
would
have
thought
he
was
joking,
but
the
catch
in
his
voice
confused
her.
“
I’d
like
that
.
”

At
the
bottom
of
the
step,
he
glanced
back
up
at
her.
Seconds,
oh
how
they
seemed
like
hours
,
passed
before
he
finally
spoke.
“Would
you,
Mibs?
I
thought
maybe,
but
I
can’t
help
but
wonder
…
”

He
was
in
his
truck
and
down
the
driveway
before
the
full
import
of
his
words
registered
in
her
mind.
Aggie
hurried
down
the
steps
,
but
Luke
was
gone.
Her
hand
dug
into
her
skirt
pocket
for
her
cell
phone
,
but
she
hesitated.
Messenger.

She
hurried
inside,
flipped
open
her
laptop,
and
waited
for
it
to
boot.
Her
mind
spent
the
next
minute
reminding
herself
that
he
couldn’t
possibly
get
home
before
she
got
connected.

A
minute
later,
her
cursor
hovered
over
the
instant
message
icon.
She
dragged
it
to
the
left
and
clicked
her
email
instead.

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject:
Forgive
me?

Luke,

I
was
wrong.
This
apology
shouldn’t
surprise
you.
It
seems
like
I’m
always
apologizing
to
someone
for
something.
I
want
to
promise
it
won’t
happen
again,
but
I
can’t.
We
both
know
it
will.
I
can
promise
that
I’ll
be
just
as
disgusted
with
myself
next
time
as
I
am
this
time,
and
I’ll
be
begging
the
Lord
to
be
merciful
to
me—again.

I
want
to
own
what
I
did
wrong—be
specific.
You
know?
I
mean,
that’s
what
I
was
taught
to
do.
The
problem
is that
all
I
know
is
that
I
was
rude
and
hateful
to
you
because
I
was
embarrassed.
I
just
don’t
know
why.
I
can’t
even
remember
why
we
argued.
I
think
you
corrected
me
as
a
sister
in
Christ.
I
think.
Maybe
not.
Maybe
you
just
should
have.
My
mind
is
so
muddled—probably
because
I’m
writing
instead
of
praying
and
allowing
God
to
bring
my
sin
to
mind,
but
I
wanted
this
note
to
be
there
for
you
when
you
got
home.