A House Full of Hope

by Missy Tippens

  “I really wanted chicken.” Tony sighed as he left the kitchen with the twins following behind.

  Becca pushed up her glasses and stared at the two of them.

  “Well, I’ll get going, then.” He waved and was gone.

  “Becca, you are not to ask for favors or invite people over without checking with me first.”

  “But aren’t we supposed to love our neighbors?” She looked up, so serious and tenderhearted.

  Hannah sometimes wished she could simply sneak away for a nice hot bubble bath with a book to read. This was one of those moments—which made her more ashamed of herself. “Yes, we are. But you always have to ask me privately first. Plus, this is supposed to be family night. He’s not part of our family.”

  Becca crossed her arms and put on her stubborn face. “I bet Pastor Phil would say we should invite him.” Then she stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Hannah to prepare their makeshift dinner alone.

  She grabbed the peanut-butter jar. Pulled the grape-jelly squeeze bottle out of the refrigerator. Then reached for the loaf of bread.

  But it wasn’t there.

  Hadn’t she already pulled it out? She opened the cabinet. Sure enough, no bread.

  She marched to the bottom of the stairs and hollered up toward the bedrooms. “Who has the loaf of bread?”

  They all denied knowing anything.

  Determined to feed her children, she reached for a box of Cheerios. Not only was she failing to make that home-cooked meal, but she must also be losing her mind.

  Mark finished putting away the tools he’d borrowed from the garage and was about to leave when he spotted Blue with his muzzle inside a plastic bag. On closer inspection, he realized it was a bread bag. Or had been. Now it was a bag of bread crumbs covered in dog slobber.

  He closed his eyes and laughed. Uh-oh. Would Hannah blame him for letting the dog inside?

  The thought of the family trying to make sandwiches, and then finding they had no bread, made the decision for him.

  He’d make the trip to the grocery store for Hannah.

  He hurried to town, grabbed the family-size pack of chicken and a loaf of bread. Then he realized how late it would be by the time she cooked it. So he also picked up already-cooked rotisserie chickens and several side dishes. On the way to the checkout line, he nabbed a huge box of Twinkies for the kids’ dessert.

  “Having a craving?” asked a woman he’d seen at church, though he couldn’t remember her name.

  “A craving?” He glanced down at the box. “Oh.” With a laugh, he said, “No, these are for the Hughes kids.”

  “Oh, I see.” By the time she finished her sentence, her eyebrows were up in the vicinity of her hairline.

  Uh-oh. “Hannah had an incident with her dinner preparations. And I happened to be at the house working. And…well…”

  The woman’s expression said she wasn’t buying his excuses. So he smiled and set his items on the checkout counter.

  When he got back to the house, Blue was gone, but the bread bag was still lying in the yard. Apparently, Hannah hadn’t discovered the dog’s mischief.

  He smiled as he rang the front doorbell.

  When Hannah opened the door and spied the shopping bags, her mouth fell open. “You went anyway?”

  Becca peeked around her mom, then shot her a smug, satisfied look. “See, Mom. Neighbors do help each other.” All of a sudden, she gasped and pointed out toward the yard. “There’s the bread!”

  Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on the empty plastic. “That dog…” She stomped down the front steps and yanked up the trash. Apparently, she had made contact with the slobber, because she wrinkled her nose and tried to grasp it by the edge.

  When she barreled back up the steps, he held out the grocery bags. “I saw what was left of your bread out front. Knew you couldn’t make sandwiches without it. You might need to teach your dog some manners.”

  “I’ll have you know that’s your dad’s dog,” she snipped. Color crept up her cheeks and looked good on her.

  He bit back a smile. “Guess he needs to work on it, then.” She still hadn’t taken the bags from him. “Can I carry this in for you?”

  He wouldn’t be surprised if steam blew out her ears any second. But she nodded anyway. “Thank you.”

  Those words had cost her. As a person who hated to ever ask for help, he understood.

  When he entered the kitchen, he found she had pulled out bowls and a box of cereal. Again, he fought a grin.

  He had to admire her. Working full-time and caring for four kids alone must be overwhelming. If he had to do it alone, they’d probably eat fast food at every meal.

  “You came just in time,” Becca said. “We’re out of milk, so we couldn’t have cereal, either.”

  “Becca,” Hannah scolded. She was probably embarrassed.

  “Hey, I love to cook but never have ingredients on hand when I need them. I understand.”

  Hannah stared into his eyes for a moment, as if deciding whether he was telling the truth or trying to make her feel better. Then she quickly looked away. “Thank you.”

  “What’d ya bring, Mr. Mark?”

  “Well, the chicken your mom needed. Also some chicken that’s already cooked.” He pulled out the Twinkies and presented the box to Becca. “And dessert.”

  “Woo hoo!” She grabbed the box and took off to show her siblings. “Thank you,” she called as she hurried away.

  Hannah looked as if she were choking on a big chicken bone.

  Not wanting to irritate her further, he said, “Gotta run. I hope this makes up for what that silly dog did.”

  “Stay.” The command came out harshly. For some reason, it struck him as funny.

  “Is that an invitation? Or a dog command?”

  Red flamed across her cheeks, but then she jumped into motion, unpacking the grocery bags. “You were kind enough to bring dinner. Stay and eat with us.”

  Ah, yes. Good manners, dictated by the duty to reciprocate. A Southern law. For some reason, he wanted to accept the offer, just to test it, to see how she would respond.

  And maybe because I’d love to share a meal with Hannah and her children?

  A stampede of footsteps pounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, distracting him from unwanted thoughts.

  “Can you stay and eat with us, Mr. Mark?” Emily asked.

  “Yeah, Mr. Mark. We’ll even let you have a Twinkies,” Eric added.

  “Shh.” Becca held her finger over her mouth. “You’re supposed to ask Mom first.”

  As much as he’d like to test the offer of hospitality, he had to remember this wasn’t a friendly game of irritate-your-neighbor. This woman and her family had taken over Redd’s house, leaving him to traipse up and down those garage steps. Mark meant to follow through with his plans. But that left a new dilemma of how to help Hannah find another place to live at the end of the contract. Or better yet, as soon as possible.

  “I appreciate the kind offer.” He looked into Hannah’s green eyes and thought maybe he saw a spark of humor. “But I can’t.”

  She did smile then, a smile of relief, and maybe a touch of victory.

  Unable to resist a bit of fun at her expense, he knelt down in front of the twins. “I tell you what. I’ll take you up on that offer another time, though. I’d love to taste that chicken recipe when your mom makes it.” He pulled out a business card and gave it to Becca. “Give this to your mom and have her call me next time you’re having chicken. Okay?”

  “Sure, Mr. Mark!”

  He winked at Hannah—his own show of victory. But as he walked out, he knew he’d made a tactical error. Getting involved with this family. Even if he did find a suitable place for them to l
ive, how would he be able to follow through on asking them to leave?

  Hannah found her mom pacing the front sidewalk of her house the next day when she went to pick up her kids.

  Had something happened to one of them? She flew out of the minivan. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  She whirled around and stopped. “That man has been at your house. He bought you groceries.” She got in Hannah’s face. “Please tell me nothing’s going on between you.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Yes, ridiculous. Admiring his beautiful eyes and muscled arms didn’t constitute something going on between them. “He happened to see that the dog had eaten part of our dinner, so he brought us some groceries. Against my wishes, I might add.”

  Donna’s shoulders relaxed, and her head fell back. “Thank You, God. I was so worried he would get to you, too, with his good looks and charm.”

  “You worry too much.” She hollered for the kids, and they piled into the van. “Thanks for babysitting. Will you come to our house tomorrow?”

  Donna rolled her eyes. “You ask that every day. What do you think my answer is?”

  “I can always hope you’ll change your mind.”

  As Hannah and the kids pulled out of the parking spot, Becca’s stomach growled loud enough for all to hear. She laughed. “Can we have chicken tonight?”

  “Becca Hughes, you never ask for chicken. How about pork chops? I can stop at the store and get some.”

  “Won’t the chicken get old and gross if we don’t eat it soon?”

  Hannah turned and raised her brows at her oldest daughter. “I can freeze it.”

  “Why don’t you like Mr. Mark?”

  “Yeah, Mom. You’re not very nice to him,” Tony added.

  They were way too young to hear the truth about Mark Ryker. “I’ll try to be nicer.”

  There. Topic closed.

  Becca giggled. “Good. Then he can eat chicken with us tonight.”

  Was she really only nine years old? How could a child look so innocent while manipulating her own mother?

  Hannah made a U-turn and headed back toward town. “I guess we can’t serve him Twinkies.” With all the groceries he’d bought, she could afford to splurge. She drove to Faith’s Coffee Time Café to pick up dessert.

  They walked inside, and while the kids oohed and aahed over the dessert choices in the pastry display case, Hannah walked over to a table to speak to Jeannie. Frederica Smith sat with her.

  Frederica’s deceased mother, Maude, had been a longtime active church member. But her daughter had fallen away. Jeannie had been trying to mentor her.

  “Hey, there, Hannah. Picking up some pastries?” Jeannie asked.

  “Yes. Wanted a decent dessert tonight.”

  “For company?” Frederica tried to look nonchalant, but Hannah could tell she was fishing.

  “The kids love Faith’s brownies.” There, that was evasive enough. And truthful.

  Jeannie took Hannah’s hand and pulled her into a chair. “I don’t mean to butt in. But I have to tell you this. For your own good.”

  Frederica nodded her agreement as she gave Hannah a sympathetic look.

  Had word already gotten out about Mark being at her house? The more talk buzzed about, the more agitated Donna would get. The drama was enough to tie Hannah’s stomach in knots. “So what is it?”

  “We heard Mark Ryker has moved in with Ann,” Jeannie said. “Of course, she says she invited him, but we’re afraid he might take advantage of her hospitality.”

  Frederica’s frown deepened. “And we heard he’s trying to hang around you—of all people. As if he didn’t do enough damage to your family already.”

  “Ladies, I assure you, he’s not trying to hang around me. He just happened to be working on a project at Redd’s house when I had a dinner disaster.”

  “Well, he’s mooching off Ann,” Jeannie added.

  Hannah knew good and well he had plenty of funds and didn’t need to mooch. These women were being gossipy. “Mark owns a successful business, so I’m sure he doesn’t need handouts.” Now, why was she defending the man? They would think she had a thing for him.

  Jeannie patted her hand. “Just be careful. He’s a charmer. Always has been, always will be.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful. Better run before the kids order everything in the display case.”

  Were Jeannie and Frederica being unforgiving, untrusting? Or were they rightly cautious?

  As she and the kids left with their bag of goodies, Hannah wondered if God was speaking to her through the ladies…and even her mom. Was she playing with fire by trying to model a good example to her children in letting them invite Mark to dinner?

  With the hot evening sun beating down on his back, Mark hammered one last nail into the newly restored shutter, hanging it in place on the upper level. He’d moved his sawhorse to the far side of the house, hoping his dad wouldn’t see him. Hoping he wouldn’t notice the refurbished shutters until Mark had had a chance to establish their relationship on better terms. With the way things stood now, Redd might try to kick him off the property.

  He climbed down the ladder to see how the shutter looked.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Jolted by the sudden intrusion, Mark yanked his head around and found his dad standing with arms crossed.

  “I’m making some repairs to the house since I’ve got time on my hands.”

  “Your help isn’t welcome.”

  If Redd didn’t want Mark slapping up a little paint, what would he do when he discovered the deposit in his bank account? “Well, I kind of figured that. That’s why I didn’t ask first.”

  Redd looked away and over Mark’s shoulder. “I know the place needs work. You can leave with the assurance I’ll do it when I have the time.”

  “Like when you retire?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Mark crossed his arms and then realized he was a mirror image of his dad. He uncrossed them and jammed his hands into his jeans pockets, trying to look as if this conversation didn’t have him as nervous as the day he signed the first government contract for his planes. “Dad, this is your home. You should be heading into retirement in comfort. Not in some garage apartment with steep steps to climb.”

  “I’m fine in the garage. Hardly ever home anyway. And I like having Hannah and the kids around.”

  “They’ve put you out of the house your grandfather built.”

  “No, they haven’t. They answered my ad. It could be anyone renting right now. I just lucked out. It’s nice having the sound of kids’ laughter again.”

  The jab hit right where his dad had aimed it. Or at least where Mark thought he’d aimed. No matter, the guilt over Matt’s death knocked him breathless. And speechless.

  He moved his ladder to the other side of the porch. He could practically hear Matt’s voice, laughing, yelling across the yard, asking him to come throw the baseball with him.

  But that had been a lifetime ago. After Matt’s death, there had only been silence. Silence as his mom took to her bed in grief. Silence as his dad hid out at the hardware store. Silence as Mark tried to make amends but couldn’t. Once he accepted that fact, he’d stayed out of everyone’s way.

  Laughter sounded again, and when his dad looked toward the driveway, Mark realized it wasn’t just an echo from the past. Hannah’s kids had come home.

  The twins ran to hug Redd. Becca and Tony hurried over to Mark and seemed truly happy to see him. He swallowed a sudden lump from his throat as he ruffled Tony’s hair and tweaked Becca’s pigtail.

  Becca looked up and grinned. “You have to eat with us tonight. We’re having chicken that you bought, and we got brownies and cookies and Mom said it’s okay and that
she’ll try to be nice.” She sucked in an audible breath. “So will you stay? Huh?”

  She’ll try to be nice? Before he could fully register the request, Becca turned to his dad. “And you, too, Mr. Redd. Please stay and eat with us.”

  Redd looked at Mark as he answered. “You kids are really nice to invite me, but I can’t come over tonight. Maybe another time.” The expression on his face told Mark he better refuse, too.

  The fact that his own father might be trying to protect Hannah’s family from him socked him in the gut.

  He knelt down in front of Becca and Tony. “I better not stay, either. Miss Ann will be expecting me.”

  Hannah came around the front of the van just then, jacket thrown across her arm, blouse sleeves rolled up. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked tired. Stressed.

  Becca tugged on his T-shirt. “But you said you’d eat with us when we had the chicken. And I don’t even like chicken. But I asked Mom to make it so we can have dinner with you.” Her sad brown eyes nearly undid him.

  Hannah took Becca’s hand. “It’s okay, sweetie. I imagine Miss Ann has already started dinner.” She reached for Tony. “Come on, kids, let the men get back to work.”

  Becca’s head turned as her mom pulled her toward the house, and she gave Mark a pitiful look.

  How could he disappoint them? They’d even gotten dessert just for him. “I tell you what. Let me call Miss Ann to check.”

  As he pulled out his cell phone, Hannah ushered the cheering kids inside. The wariness on her face as she followed them through the back door told him Hannah didn’t trust him.

  Redd shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know if you’re playing games or if you just aren’t using your head. Either way, you better not hurt those kids. Or Hannah. You’ll have to answer to me if you do.” After a quick glance at the door, he turned and started toward the garage. “Oh, and leave the home repairs to me. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own property.”

  Mark couldn’t win.

  But no matter what Redd and Hannah thought, he would not disappoint a sweet nine-year-old girl who was willing to eat chicken for him.