A House Full of Hope

by Missy Tippens

  Mark couldn’t even look at his dad. He stared into the cart, at all those tarps, a temporary fix for holes in roofs, but there wasn’t a single thing he could do to fix the gaping wound in his heart.

  A warm, roughened hand covered Mark’s own. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Mark stared at his dad’s hand. And he could suddenly remember the good times. Dad teaching him to use tools. Teaching him to take things apart and put them back together. Teaching him to build—the satisfaction of creating. All those moments had led to Mark’s love of building things—a love that had given him the desire to make something of his life. To quit drinking and go back to school.

  Mark searched his dad’s eyes, so much like his own. Eyes devoid of condemnation, warm with forgiveness. “If I hadn’t talked him into going out in your boat, even though you’d forbidden it, even though I knew he couldn’t swim…Matt wouldn’t have fallen in or contracted pneumonia. He’d be alive today.”

  “You were just doing stuff teenage boys do. And you saved him from drowning.”

  Yeah, too little, too late. “But you blamed me. Mom did, too. Losing Matt killed her. She went to bed and didn’t get back up. You couldn’t even look at me.”

  “I was ashamed. I insisted you take him with you that day. Mom asked me to watch Matt while she worked at vacation Bible school, and I was too busy here at the store to bother. So I shooed you both out, told you to take him with you.” He breathed in several heavy breaths. “It was my fault your brother died. Took your mother years to forgive me. But with God’s help, we healed and moved on.”

  Stunned, Mark couldn’t utter a sound. He searched his dad’s eyes, to see if he was just trying to make Mark feel better. But he obviously spoke the truth. “Then why were you so angry when I came back here?”

  “The anger was at how your leaving hurt your mother, and the lack of contact worried us sick. Then shame over the condition of the house.” He shrugged. “Mostly guilt. I withdrew after Matt died and wasn’t there for you. I knew your leaving was my fault, as well.”

  Mark sighed. So many years. So much guilt and pain. “I’m sorry for leaving. And more, for not coming home sooner. Can you forgive me?”

  “Son, you don’t need to be the one asking. Can you forgive me?”

  Lord, thank You for leading me here. And for this moment. “Of course.” He reached over and squeezed his dad’s hand. “I love you.”

  Redd swiped at a tear. “Love you, too.”

  Mark went around the counter and embraced his dad, who hugged him back, then ended with a hearty pat on the back.

  “I’m glad to have you home, son. Will you stay longer?”

  “I can’t. I’m starting to care too much for a certain neighbor of yours.”

  “I understand. Could you hang around and try to win Donna over?”

  He gave his dad a crooked Are you kidding me? smile.

  “She’s a hard woman who won’t let go of a grudge. But I’d say Hannah is worth the groveling.” Redd’s eyes twinkled, as if he knew facing Donna would test Mark’s courage.

  “Sticking around for Hannah is definitely worth any wrath I may feel. But I can’t put Hannah or her children through that.”

  “If Hannah cares for you, I hate to see her hurt. But you do what you think is best. I’m hoping you’ll come back again to visit.”

  “How about if I come back for Thanksgiving?”

  He nodded, his face breaking into a smile. He clapped Mark on the back. “I’d like that, son.”

  Hannah tried her best not to let on to the kids how upset she was with her mother. She also didn’t want them to know about having to go to day care until she had the chance to sit down with them at home and explain.

  But how could she possibly explain that their grandmother was blinded by unforgiveness? That she hadn’t yet learned to trust Hannah’s judgment and thought she was protecting them?

  Hoping they didn’t get too muddy, she sent them to play in the grass in front of the courthouse while she sat on the bench to call her friend Bev, the director of the only child-care center in town.

  “Hi, Bev. I need your help.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Long story short, I need summer child care. If they can start at the center tomorrow, I’d need to drop them off at—”

  “We’re full, Hannah. I’m so sorry. Our adult-kid ratio is maxed out. But I can add you to the waiting list.”

  Oh, no. She’d never considered it would be full. “Do you have any idea how long it might be?”

  “I can’t afford to hire another worker until I get eight more kids on the list. Even with your four, I doubt we’ll get that many this summer.”

  Squeezing back tears, she shut her eyes. “Thanks, Bev. Go ahead and add them to the list. I’ll start praying.”

  “I’ll pray, too, sweetie. Hang in there.”

  What could she do? Miss Ann was too old to watch them full-time. She didn’t trust teenagers to handle four children, so that ruled out all the potential babysitters from the youth group. Maybe she could find a college student. Or a stay-at-home mom who’d take in her brood for some extra money.

  Money. She had to pay for this. Out of her house fund.

  With clenched fists and gritted teeth, she rounded up the kids to go to the hardware store. She needed to let Redd know about the roof and broken windows. Maybe Mark would show up with tarps and temporary window covering.

  The thought of seeing him made the frustration and anger dissipate as they entered the store. She tried her best to keep all little hands out of the bins of nuts and bolts and all things shiny and tempting.

  Redd came over to meet them. “Hi, there, Hannah. Glad to see you’re all okay.”

  “Thank the Lord, we’re all fine. Did Mark fill you in on the house?”

  “He did. I’m relieved we didn’t have more damage.”

  “We probably need a tarp for one part of the roof. And I wanted to check with you on getting the glass replaced.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring home everything we need. Mark’s already been by here to buy tarps to distribute around town. I’m sure he has one for you and will take care of it.”

  She’d been right about Mark. For the second time that day, he’d watched out for her. His consideration warmed her to her toes. “Oh, good. We’ll head home now and wait for him.”

  “He may already be there. But…well…you should know something.”

  The look on his face and the serious tone of his voice made her heart sink. “What is it?”

  He looked over at the kids, who raked their hands through a bin of key rings. He leaned toward her ear. “He plans to leave town tonight.”

  As if someone had yanked the floor out from under her, she swayed. “Oh. W-why?”

  “It’s his place to fill you in.”

  The storm, trouble with her mom, day-care issues…and now Mark was leaving? Would this nightmarish day never end?

  Tears brimmed, then ran down her cheeks. When Tony looked up, concerned, she darted between shelves so the kids wouldn’t see her.

  Redd followed and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Hon, it’ll be okay. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

  She swiped the traitorous drops away, furious at her mother. His leaving now had to be Donna’s fault. “I’m sorry. It’s been a stressful day.”

  “I know. Go on home. Get some rest. Don’t fret. Mark and I will handle the repairs.”

  Except Mark wouldn’t be there long enough to handle anything.

  He was leaving. Tonight.

  The children were quiet all the way home, as if they sensed her distress. Of course, they’d witnessed the spectacle she’d made in front of Redd.

  When they arriv
ed at the house, Mark was sawing a fallen tree into pieces. And a blue tarp already covered the damaged roof.

  Tears welled up once again, but rather than let Mark see them, she pressed at the inner corners of her eyes so tightly it hurt. Better than letting him see her crying over the fact that he was leaving her.

  She knew it had to be best that he go. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d nursed a flicker of hope he would stick it out with Donna. Would find Hannah worth fighting for.

  Tony, obviously thrilled to see Mark—his new hero—ran over. “Can I help?”

  “No, son. I’m afraid you’re too young for power tools—as your mom so nicely told me a while back.” He smiled at her, and she knew he was truly leaving. The smile held sadness. Maybe even regret.

  “Come on, everyone. We need to go inside and let Mark work.” She nodded to acknowledge him but couldn’t look him in the eye. He might see how his plan to leave was wounding her. “Thank you for covering the roof. And for getting that tree out of the way.”

  “Glad to help.”

  She shepherded the kids inside and tried her best to ignore that Mark was outside. As she swept up broken glass, she decided she wouldn’t let him go without at least trying to talk some sense into him.

  She put the kids to work cleaning their rooms and marched back outside, determined to change his mind.

  As she neared him, she lost some of the steam. How could she change his mind without telling him how she felt about him?

  How could she risk telling him when he and her mother were at odds?

  When he saw her, he turned off the saw. “So, are the kids worn-out from their wild day?”

  “I hear you’re leaving.”

  He ran his hand over his chin, bristly with a five-o’clock shadow, and squinted at the late-afternoon sun, so out of place after the storm. He looked…drained. Her heart thumped with worry.

  He finally looked straight at her. “Yes. Tonight.”

  “Why?” she bit out, but her voice betrayed her as it cracked.

  “I think you know why.”

  Yes, she knew. Because earlier, after the storm, she’d hugged him, had laid her face near his heart and wished for things she couldn’t have. She’d sensed he wished for the same. “My mother.”

  “I don’t want to cause conflict in your family. I’ve done enough of that.”

  He was really going to leave. Her brain clicked at high speed as she tried to find reasons for him to stay. Acceptable reasons, not reasons like her missing him or relying on him when she hadn’t dared rely on someone in years. “But what about making things right with your dad?”

  A smile drained the tension from his face. “We talked, like you suggested. Thanks to you, and God’s work on both our hearts, Dad’s forgiven me. He also asked my forgiveness.”

  “That’s wonderful. God can bring about good from any situation.” Her own smile tried to wobble. She truly was happy for him. But now he was free to leave. Before he’d given God a chance to work on healing his relationship with her mother.

  Should she ask him to stay? “Do you think you’ll ever consider relocating? Returning…you know…home?”

  Staring off into the pasture, he ran a hand through his dusty hair. “I’ve had a few large corporations approach me about selling—one recently.” He looked into her eyes. “But I turned them down. Can’t imagine turning over control of something I started from the ground up.”

  So his career was important enough to keep him in Seattle. “Well, I need to let you work.” She had to pull herself away. While she could.

  “I’ll let you know when I’m done out here.”

  She nodded and headed back toward the house.

  No, she couldn’t ask him to stay. Besides, Mark’s leaving proved she couldn’t depend on anyone to take care of her. Anyone but God. And herself.

  Ax in hand, Mark attacked the logs, releasing pent-up tension, sending wood chips flying. He split the wood as if hacking at his own feelings. Feelings for a woman he had no right to care about.

  Swing. Chop.

  Sure she’s beautiful, but she’s Sydney’s sister.

  Sure she’s smart and generous and kind, but I’m the jerk who destroyed her family and made her lose her home.

  Sure she’s an amazing mother, but her mother hates me.

  By the time he had a neatly stacked pile of wood beside the garage, he’d worn out his arms and back. But he still hadn’t gotten Hannah out of his heart.

  He put away the ax and wiped his brow with the shoulder of his T-shirt. He looked around the property at what he’d managed to complete in a couple of weeks. Much more needed to be done. Work he’d have to leave for his dad.

  The unfinished rocking chairs on the porch bugged him most. They still needed primer and fresh coats of white paint to bring them back to how he remembered from his childhood. Now they looked sad, weathered, beaten.

  The sun had lowered on the horizon, its pinks and purples offering a spectacular display of God’s creation. If only he and Hannah could sit on the porch and watch it together…

  No. He needed to go by Ann’s for his things and head to Atlanta.

  He dusted off his hands and climbed the porch.

  At his knock, Becca answered, then laughed. “Mr. Mark, you have wood stuff all over you.”

  “I’m a mess, aren’t I?” He knelt down in front of her. “I wanted to tell you all goodbye.”

  “Are you going to Miss Ann’s?”

  “No, I’m leaving to go back to my own house across the country.”

  Hannah and the other children walked up behind Becca.

  “But we like having you here.” Becca turned to her siblings. “He’s going away.”

  “I’ll be back to visit on Thanksgiving.”

  He glanced at the twins’ sad faces.

  Emily’s lip quivered. “Mr. Mark, we have so much fun with you.”

  “Then we’ll make big holiday plans with lots of fun, okay?”

  “Okay,” Eric and Emily said in unison.

  He looked at Tony, and the stoic expression on the boy’s face socked him in the gut. “Hey, big guy. Maybe when I come back, you can help me paint the railing here on the porch. Deal?”

  Without the slightest show of emotion, Tony turned and walked away.

  With no idea what to do or say, Mark rose and looked at Hannah. The stricken look on her face ripped his insides to shreds.

  “Kids, can I talk to your mom alone for a minute, please?”

  They hugged him, and he thought his heart might break at the thought of leaving them. At the thought he wouldn’t see them for five months. They’d probably grow an inch. Would be in school. Might need homework help.

  Hannah peeled them off of him and sent them inside. They’d gotten so attached to him so quickly.

  Who was he kidding? He’d gotten even more attached to them. “I’ll tell Dad the kids are a little sad right now and see if he’ll spend some extra time with them.”

  “Okay. Thanks for everything. For the house…” Her hands fluttered as she vaguely pointed to the property. Then she shrugged. “For the babysitting.” Her eyelids fluttered.

  Was she blinking at tears?

  Oh, man. He had to get out of there. Reaching to push her hair back from her face, he realized his hands were dirty. He was covered in sawdust. So he pulled away and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Gotta go. See you at Thanksgiving.”

  He forced himself to turn and walk away. Forced himself into the car. Forced himself not to watch in the rearview mirror as she stood there waving while he drove down the driveway.

  That peaceful arch of trees closed in behind him, shutting him off from those who had somehow, miraculously, become i
mportant to him.

  Leaving was for the best. For Hannah.

  But was it best for him?

  No matter. He had a company to run in Seattle. Though he’d had multimillion-dollar offers to buy him out, he couldn’t imagine selling. What could he possibly do to follow up on that kind of success?

  He tried calling Ann but didn’t get an answer. He’d missed dinner, so he stopped at the café to pick up a sandwich and see if Ann might be there. She wasn’t. And neither was the owner, Faith. A young man he hadn’t seen before waited on him.

  As the guy bagged the ham sandwich and poured him a cup of coffee to go, Mark heard his name somewhere around the corner, behind the espresso machine. A woman was talking about him. Loud enough for him—and probably everyone else in the shop—to hear.

  “Well, he was nice enough to bring a tarp by my house today,” said a quiet voice he didn’t recognize.

  “I don’t think he’s changed a bit,” said the loud one. “I still say he’s taking advantage of Ann.”

  “Maybe.”

  The café employee punched Mark’s items into the cash register, glancing between Mark and the women around the corner, his face red.

  “I think y’all need to give him a chance to prove he’s changed,” said the kind one.

  “And wait until he’s hurt Ann…and maybe even Hannah?”

  “Hannah?”

  The young man told Mark the order total in a loud voice, trying to cover for his gossiping customers.

  Apparently, he knew who Mark was.

  “Haven’t you heard he’s been hanging out at her house, watching her kids?”

  “No way!” said a third person. This voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

  “Well, that’s plain strange,” said the quiet one. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s up to something. Hannah’s pretty. And I bet there was a life-insurance policy.”

  Mark couldn’t stomach another word. He threw a twenty on the counter, thanked the boy and snatched the bag out of his hand before he’d finished stuffing napkins inside.