12. Micah
MICAH
If someone had told me three months ago that I'd be spending a Friday night at a pumpkin patch with Robin, I would've assumed they'd suffered a head injury.
The entire thing felt slightly surreal. Even more surreal was the fact that Robin's hand was currently tucked into mine.
The walk back toward the parking lot unfolded at a leisurely pace as the crowd slowly filtered toward their cars.
The air grew colder now that the sun was gone, and distant laughter drifted across the fields behind us.
Robin's hand remained comfortably linked with mine. Every few steps her shoulder brushed mine. Neither of us seemed inclined to let go.
I glanced over at her.
The firelight from the bonfire was long behind us now, replaced by parking lot lamps and moonlight. Besides the surprise meeting in the corn maze, she'd been relaxed and playful, trading insults as jokes in her way.
But after talking to Ariel, something had shifted. The change wasn't sadness exactly. It was more like she'd drifted somewhere deeper inside herself, like part of her attention remained fixed on a thought she hadn't shared.
For a while I let it be. Robin wasn't someone who responded well to being pushed. Eventually, though, curiosity and concern won.
"Is everything okay?"
She glanced up. "Hm?"
"You seem quiet."
A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. Robin looked ahead again as we continued walking between rows of parked cars. For a moment I thought she might brush the question aside. Instead, she squeezed my hand lightly.
"I'm okay."
The answer wasn't entirely convincing. I waited. After a few seconds she sighed softly. "Do you ever have moments where something just... reminds you why you did something?"
I frowned slightly. "Maybe?"
"That's not a very confident answer."
"I'm trying to avoid accidentally agreeing to something before I understand the question."
Robin laughed under her breath.
"I don't know." She shrugged. "Talking to Ariel just got me thinking."
The far away tone in her voice had my attention.
"I think sometimes I forget that little things matter," she said.
Robin wasn't looking at me anymore. She was staring out across the dark field.
"You help where you can," she continued quietly. "You do what you're supposed to do. Then life keeps moving and you don't always get to see what happens afterward."
After a moment she shook her head slightly. "Sorry. That probably makes no sense."
"No, it makes sense."
Her eyes met mine then. The cool night air curled around us while people loaded pumpkins into trunks nearby.
Robin's expression softened. "Maybe I'm just in my feelings today."
I smiled. “It’s okay, we all need to feel our feelings sometimes.”
We reached my car a few moments later, neither of us seeming particularly eager for the evening to end.
I found myself looking at her and having one of those moments that felt almost too good to trust. Because this whole thing still felt improbable.
A month ago, I was grading papers, arguing with Nate about Dungeons & Dragons, and pretending I wasn't lonely.
Now I was standing in a pumpkin patch parking lot holding hands with Robin Sherwood.
The same woman I'd spent months admiring at derby bouts and crowded bars.
The woman who somehow made me laugh, challenged me all at the same time.
And judging by the way she was looking at me now, maybe—just maybe—I wasn't the only one who felt it.
The roads were quieter on the drive back into town. Most of the traffic from the pumpkin patch had thinned out, leaving long stretches of dark country road lit by headlights and the occasional farmhouse porch light glowing in the distance.
Robin had gone quiet again. I kept one hand on the steering wheel and rested the other on her thigh.
"So… are you like friends with Jess?"
I glanced over. "Just colleagues. Why?"
Robin stared out the windshield for another few seconds. I could tell she wasn’t a big fan of vulnerability.
“Because I hate her.”
A huff of laughter left me as I looked back at her, half expecting her to be joking, but her face was anything but jovial.
"I know I've talked about Lila before."
I nodded and squeezed her thigh with silent reassurance.
“Well, me, her and Jess were all best friends. They both attended Ascension Fellowship."
My heart dropped. Hard. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Luckily, Robin wasn't looking at me. If she had been, she might have noticed.
There was a part of me that wanted to blurt it all out. My father runs Ascension. The confession sat at the back of my throat. I needed to tell her. I know I needed to tell her, but I just couldn’t seem to make the words come out.
Then she kept talking, and I let the moment pass. I could try and convince myself that it was bad timing, but I knew better. I knew I was a coward. Robin's gaze remained fixed on the road ahead.
She had shared some of Lila’s story with me, and it was heart breaking.
And also, not new. Sadly, I’d grown up hearing stories just like this one.
This was one of the things I’ve always found hard to reconcile with the faith, if you want to call it that.
It goes against everything they claim to believe and they’re too blind to see their own hypocrisy.
"Jess was the one who told Lila’s parents about us. It was right after they came home from church camp. I hated her for it. I still hate her for it." she admitted quietly.
I swallowed. I needed to tell her. I needed to tell her that my family took over that church a few years ago, but all that came out was. "I understand."
Robin looked over. For a second, I wondered if she could somehow see through me. Could she see what I was hiding? Would she stop seeing me when she figured it out?
“I know I should be over it by now. And I mean, I am in a way. I wish her no ill will anymore, but I can’t ever forgive her for what she did. Not only did she ruin my relationship, but she ruined our friendship too. In one night, I lost my girlfriend and my best friend.”
She took a long breath and stared out the window. “I guess that is why I was being weird in the corn maze. It’s just with Ariel at Lantern House, running into her, and my parents starting to attend that awful place I just couldn’t take it anymore… I had to do something.”
She stopped talking, I waited but it was a long pause.
“Nevermind… I’m being stupid.”
“No, Robin, you’re not being stupid. Sometimes things happen where there is no coming back from. Sometimes someone hurts you too much. Sometimes there are rifts that sorrys and time can’t fix.”
We continued home, my heart racing. I was used to this feeling around Robin, but it was usually in a good way.
This was not good. I needed to tell her who I was.
But what would happen when she found out that I wasn’t just Micah, the bassist, nerdy, science teacher, but also the pastor’s son of the church that had ruined her life.
Even if he wasn’t the pastor when all that had happened, I can’t imagine it would make much of a difference.
The warmth that had filled the car earlier had turned into something heavier as the road stretched endlessly ahead of us. Outside, headlights cut through the darkness. Inside, silence slowly settled between us.
And for the first time since meeting Robin, I found myself wondering if I was already in too deep to get out without breaking both our hearts.
The lights of Briar Glenn gradually appeared ahead of us, scattered across the darkness like stars.
I was halfway convinced I'd ruined the mood entirely when she suddenly spoke.
"You know… You’ve seen my place, but I haven’t seen yours."
I glanced over. When I caught her face in a passing streetlight I could see she was grinning a little mischievous smile that usually preceded trouble. The traffic light turned red and I stopped the car.
"Do you want to?"
Robin's grin widened then she nodded.
That was all it took. I flicked on my blinker. "Okay."
Ten minutes later I was pulling into the driveway of my house and trying very hard to be cool, if I ever even knew how to be.
The small two-bedroom house sat on a quiet residential street lined with mature trees and modest homes.
Nothing fancy. Nothing impressive. The porch light clicked on automatically as we walked up the path.
Robin took one look at the house and smiled.
"It's cute."
I unlocked the door and stepped aside. The moment she came in, I started seeing the place through her eyes. There were guitars hanging on the wall next to shelves full of books. A couple framed concert posters above my record player and collection of vinyl.
Then there was the Star Trek memorabilia. She knew I was a fan, she knew I had the sleeve to prove it, but looking at the tiny con in my house could send her running. There was a two foot USS Enterprise, signed posters practically acting as wallpaper, and so. Many. Figures.
She turned slowly in a circle taking it all in before she looked at me. I braced myself.
"Oh my God. This isn't a house. This is a cry for help."
I sighed, but couldn’t help but smile at her.
Robin pointed dramatically toward the bookshelf. "You own a tiny spaceship."
"It is not tiny."
Her eyes widened. "You know that's somehow worse, right?"
I dropped onto the couch while she wandered through the room inspecting things with growing delight. I had expected the good natured teasing. It pleased me to see how comfortable she seemed.
She paused in front of my record collection and gave them an approving nod. "You listen to these?"
"Frequently."
Robin pulled one out carefully. "Nirvana."
"Classic."
She grabbed another. "Pearl Jam."
"Also classic."
Then another.
Then another.
"You own physical media."
"Of course, it's the only way to truly own something."
"You’re not wrong."
Robin eventually wandered back toward the couch carrying one of the Enterprise models.
"Tell me honestly."
Suspicion pricked my senses. "What?"
"Have you ever pretended this thing could fly?"