He knew. He wouldn't press anymore, but he knew that she didn't want to have to do all of the work alone, not on the first job that she had to do without her father.
"I'll help as much as I'm able," he said. "No matter what you need from me. I'll do my best."
Beverly's eyes glistened with tears, and she bit her lip, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Thank you," she said softly.
The thing was... Roy had other chores he had to attend to. He couldn't only work on the construction projects. That wouldn't be fair to the others.
Still, he hadn't even finished his sandwich yet, and he made sure to chew each bite a hundred times before swallowing to prolong the inevitable.
"Tell me about yourself, Beverly," he said eventually.
She smiled at him. "My mom works far and wide, so my father and I would do everything together. One time, when he deemed I was old enough, he took me out of the canyon. I didn't know where we were going or wide, and I must have asked him a hundred thousand times, but he never answered. You know how kids are."
Roy laughed. "My mom always hated that question. 'Are we there yet?'"
"Well, I didn't ask that. I just asked where we were going." She made a face. "The thing is, I can't tell you where we ended up! But my father took me to this massive wooden building. Inside, everything was wooden. Everything! All of it so ornate and intricately carved. It was there that my father taught me the basics of carpentry and then each month after, he would teach me more and more about his work, about construction. For the most part, we only did jobs in the canyon, but there were a few that we had to travel a bit more for. Nothing more than an hour away. We would talk the entire trek out, and most of the times, I would sleep on the drive back."
"You wouldn't get a hotel room?"
"No. It would have cut into our profits if we had."
"Oh, of course."
"My father... He was the most patient man in the world. He would be so humble too. I think he might have been a teacher in another life."
Roy bristled. "You don't believe in reincarnation, do you?"
"I... No, not really. I just... I was only..." Her shoulders slumped. "My parents weren't overly religious, so I'm not either."
"Do you believe in God?"
"Yes, I believe in a higher power."
"Do you believe in Heaven?"
"I want to," she whispered.
Roy nodded, understanding the sentiment. He had grown up in a religious household, and he was still deeply spiritual to this day. His parents instilled in him and his brothers their faith from a young age.
"I don't want to overstep," Roy said slowly, "so if you don't want to talk about this, I completely understand. Just tell me to stop, and I won't say anything else on this topic, but..."
She nodded for him to go ahead.
"I attended church regularly with my family and learned the importance of putting others first and living life with purpose and intention. Have you ever been to Grace Community Church?"
"For the funeral. The service was there. A mass. Before that, though... not since I was a little girl."
"It's a beautiful church. Remember looking at the stained-glass windows with are. At the time I had to have been maybe five or six, and I wanted to be a painter. I just wanted to paint glass, nothing else."
She laughed.
He grinned and leaned back. "The way the light used to shine inside the church as we would learn about Jesus' miracles and the stories of God's love... I always felt like that church is a second home."
"That must be nice," she murmured.
"I know it's not the same for everyone, but for me, reading the Bible is like discovering a secret world where all that matters is peace and understanding."
"Right because that makes sense with the flood and Jesus dying."