Georgia Sweethearts

by Missy Tippens

  Blake Foreman, a carbon copy of Daniel except for his graying temples and faint wrinkles, sat straight as a goalpost, looking down his disapproving nose. “You’re late.”

  “I apologize,” Daniel forced out.

  Semiretired, Blake had moved to Corinthia a couple months before Daniel. “Seems you could have called to let your grandmother know you were delayed.” Blue eyes a shade deeper than Daniel’s narrowed, issuing a challenge.

  Anytime the two of them got together, they were like two dogs circling each other, readying for a fight. Animosity sizzled in the air, something he wanted to reach out and seize, to try to understand. But tonight he didn’t have the energy for the struggle.

  He pulled away his attention from his dad. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it earlier, GranAnn. I had a late counseling session, then got delayed over at the yarn shop with Lilly Barnes.”

  “Oh, good, I’m glad you two met.” With a relieved, happy grin, she motioned for him to sit. “I kept your plate warm.”

  Only then did he notice they’d already finished eating. Man, when he messed up, he messed up good.

  GranAnn bustled around the kitchen with her familiar floral apron around her waist, pouring syrupy sweet iced tea from the same brown glass pitcher she’d had when he was child.

  Blake leaned back and crossed his arms. “Who’s this Lilly Barnes?”

  Daniel was tempted to tell him it was none of his concern. Instead, he opted to break down and ask for help.

  As if he would ever get involved in something important to me.

  He swallowed back his bitterness. The church had to come first. “Lilly and her sister, Jenna, inherited the yarn shop at the edge of town. The former owner had agreed to rent the basement to our church since we need a bigger space. Apparently Lilly knew nothing about the arrangement.”

  “Oh, it’s the perfect space,” GranAnn added. “I’m sure Lilly and Jenna will be glad to rent it to you.” She pulled his plate out of the oven with a dish towel to keep from burning herself and set the meat loaf and mashed potatoes on the place mat in front of him.

  Daniel put the faded cloth napkin in his lap. “Since we’ve been drawing more people from over in Appleton, the location is perfect. I just haven’t seen the basement yet to confirm it’s large enough to hold at least fifty. Lilly didn’t seem willing to show me around.”

  “So she’s not going to honor the previous owner’s contract?” Blake asked.

  “We don’t have anything in writing, and I didn’t want to force the issue. She’s still grieving the loss of her great-aunt. Do you know of any other place that would hold fifty—within our small budget?”

  “No,” Gran said, clutching his arm, her face pinched in a grimace of worry. “Promise me you won’t give up. Those girls need the rent money, even if they’re not willing to admit it yet. You have to help them.”

  He couldn’t remember ever seeing his grandmother so tense. “Since we’ve outgrown our current location, I have to put the church first. But I plan to talk to her again.”

  His grandmother relaxed into her chair with a huff. As if she’d accomplished something that left her drained. “Blake, Daniel’s done a wonderful job with the church. Especially getting his members involved ministering to the community.” She squeezed Daniel’s hand in her warm, soft grasp as she stared into his eyes, pride beaming. “You should be proud of your son.”

  Daniel smiled his appreciation even as he girded himself for his father’s dismissal.

  “Fifty, huh?” Blake asked.

  For a split second, he thought his dad looked surprised—maybe even pleased—at the rapid growth. Then he realized Blake probably found the size laughable. Disappointed by his son’s career change, he’d probably be happy if Daniel’s venture failed.

  “We’re nearing fifty,” Daniel said. “I’d like to have room for growth until we find a permanent location.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me what size. You quit a lucrative job against my advice. Then poured good money into seminary, only to recklessly start your own church instead of taking a position at an established one with a dependable income.”

  He’d heard the same spiel from his dad so many times he could recite it word for word. The man acted as if Daniel had taken up a life of crime.

  “So do you know of anywhere we could rent?” Daniel asked, unable to keep the exasperation from his voice.

  “Nope.” Blake pushed away from the table. “Ann, I’m sorry, but I need to go. I’m expecting a conference call.”

  Her eyes flashed as she got up from the table. Nothing made her madder than family members who didn’t get along. “I hope you can stay longer next time. Maybe schedule that call for earlier in the day.”

  She opened the refrigerator and hunkered in front of the shelves as if searching for something, no doubt avoiding further confrontation with her son-in-law. Daniel could imagine her clenching her jaw to keep from speaking her mind. He understood the temptation.

  “Thank you for an excellent dinner.” With nothing more than a nod of the head at Daniel, Blake exited the back door, shutting it quietly behind him, as if to prove he was the only one in control of his emotions.

  GranAnn popped out of the refrigerator and smacked the door shut. “If I didn’t love that man like my own son, I’d have to shake him ’til his teeth rattled.”

  At the image of his tiny grandmother shaking his brawny father, Daniel laughed. “I’d be happy to help.”

  “Don’t you give up on your daddy. He’s bottled up a lot of pain. I think having you both here in Corinthia is a blessing. God can work miracles.”

  Yeah, he’d started praying for that miracle at the age of nine, when he realized other boys had dads who didn’t work every waking hour, dads who showed up for peewee football games, who ate meals at home and tucked their kids into bed at night. He’d prayed for a dad who cared until the day he left for college, when he finally let go of the desire to matter to his father and changed his focus to look to the future. To quit wallowing in self-pity and make a difference in the world.

  “You must be starving. Now eat,” Gran said.

  He bowed his head and thanked God for the food.

  As soon as he opened his eyes, she dropped into the chair across from him. “Cricket’s mother called before dinner. She wanted to thank you for coming over this afternoon. Said she thought Cricket seemed better.”

  The breath rushed out of him in a surge of relief. The girl, pregnant at fifteen, was severely depressed. “Good news. I’m meeting with the family again next week.”

  “Even better news is Cricket has finally agreed to see a psychiatrist about the depression.”

  “I’m glad. I should probably follow up with her parents, to make sure she goes. I’m uncomfortable waiting a week before we meet again.”

  A sense of unease over Cricket wouldn’t let up. He decided to call her mom in the morning to offer assistance. Then, he’d regroup and figure out a way to convince Lilly Barnes that renting out her basement could benefit them both.

  * * *

  Lilly walked in the front door of her sister and brother-in-law’s house, her temporary home, tension knotting her gut over what she’d find inside. As if concern over the yarn shop hadn’t already tied her stomach tightly enough.

  “I’m home,” she called. Both Jenna’s and Ned’s vehicles were there. Which meant potential for an evening of arguing.

  The cool, dark entry hall enveloped her. Quiet. A good sign. Maybe she’d dreaded coming inside for no reason. Maybe tonight would be one of the good nights.

  As she hung up her coat in the closet, her stomach started to relax. Then a bedroom door slammed down the hallway of the tiny two-bedroom rental. Behind the closed door, voices raised, one high-pitched, the other low.

  Jenna and Ned.

 
She considered slipping out to go to a restaurant, but then a whimper came from the family room.

  Will.

  She headed toward the sound and found her ten-month-old nephew standing in the exercise saucer, leaning over, trying to reach a toy on the floor.

  “Hey, sweet thing. Did you drop your doggie?”

  Will’s big brown eyes lit up, and he gave her a slobbery grin that made her feel like the most important person in the world. He sprang up and down on his chunky little legs as he raised his arms to her, straining for all he was worth.

  She pulled him up and out of his seat and kissed the top of his head, the silky brown curls tickling her nose, the powdery scent of baby shampoo calming her. Then she handed him his toy. “Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”

  The voices down the hall escalated, but Will didn’t flinch. Apparently, he’d grown accustomed to his parents arguing. Like she and Jenna had grown accustomed to their parents arguing. Or so she’d told herself.

  Lilly blew out a huge sigh as she headed toward the kitchen, wishing that she could as easily exhale all the old memories and be rid of them permanently.

  Jenna pretended all was well in the Jones household, but Lilly knew better. And from what she’d observed, she feared Jenna and Ned might not be able to work out their differences. Jenna refused to go to marriage counseling. Why couldn’t she see she’d snagged a decent guy worth fighting for? He was a good father, a hardworking firefighter who loved Jenna. If not for Ned’s help, they couldn’t have managed repairing the yarn shop building.

  Yet, Jenna seemed to have checked out, sabotaging the relationship, just like she had every other one. Lilly hoped Ned would be patient and not give up on his wife.

  Though the tiny kitchen’s countertop was stacked with a day’s worth of dirty dishes, Jenna had left a pot of chili simmering on the stovetop. Two jars of unopened baby food sat on the high chair tray beside a clean bib. “Looks like you and me, kid. Dinner for two. Although I’ll pass on your smooshed-up peas.”

  She placed him in his chair and snapped the bib in place. The spicy steam wafted her way, making her stomach growl, but she needed to feed Will first.

  As she opened the jars of food, he banged the tray and started to fuss. “Eee!” His impatient version of eat.

  He cranked up a pitiful wail. A splash of Cheerios on his tray appeased his appetite and allowed for independence as his little fingers snagged the oat circles he loved. Since he usually spit out half of what she fed him, she’d learned to distract him with the cereal while she tried to sneak in some vegetables and meat.

  They’d managed some success with her method when she heard Ned’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward the kitchen.

  He walked in, cheeks high in color, dark, wavy hair disheveled. “Hi, Lilly.” He kissed his son on the head. Wiped a smear of sweet potatoes off Will’s cheek. “Eat like a good boy. Daddy’s got to go to work.”

  She couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room. “Ned, I’d be glad to move out if it would help. I don’t want my presence to cause additional strain for you two.”

  His cheeks flushed redder. His dark brown eyes darted around the room as if he was embarrassed by her comment. “No. Stay. You’re good for her, and for Will, too. It’s just...” He ruffled Will’s hair as his throat bobbed up, then down. “I’ll see y’all later.”

  Her appetite followed him right out the door.

  Jenna walked in the kitchen shortly after, her pretty green eyes red and swollen. She wore sweatpants and a faded, holey college T-shirt. “Thanks for feeding Will,” she said as she grabbed a bowl and ladled out a small portion of chili. Enough for a mouse.

  “You need to eat more.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What’d y’all argue about this time?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That nothing made you cry.”

  Jenna plopped the bowl onto the scratched pressed-wood table and slid into her chair. She’d forgotten a spoon but didn’t seem to notice. Lilly got up to get one, waiting for her to talk.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking the spoon, then proceeding to shove the chili around the bowl, never taking a single bite.

  “I’ll feed you, too, if I have to.”

  That drew a little smile. “We can’t agree on anything. He wants to spend. I want to save. He wants to buy a house. I want to rent a little longer. He wants to go to church on Sundays. I want to stay home and have family time. He wants another baby. I don’t.”

  Lilly wasn’t a professional therapist, but she understood that with her and Jenna’s family history, trust was an issue. Jenna’s actions all pointed to someone who was afraid to believe her relationship had a future. “Sounds like maybe you should go with him to talk to a marriage counselor.”

  “That’s not going to help at this point.” She nibbled a tiny bite, enough to nourish a flea. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Will banged on the high chair and squealed, ready to get up and move again. They’d somehow managed to get most of the two jars of food into his stomach with only a small percentage landing on his bib and in his hair. Success, in Lilly’s opinion.

  Jenna got to her feet to reach for Will, but Lilly pushed her sister back into her chair. “I’ll get him. You need to eat or you won’t do him any good.”

  As Lilly stood at the kitchen sink waiting for the water to warm to wipe Will’s hands and face, Jenna withdrew into her own world.

  Time to distract her from her thoughts. “I had a visitor to the shop today. Daniel Foreman, Ann’s grandson.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Daniel Foreman. He came to the shop today.”

  Jenna turned toward Lilly, her eyes refocusing in the present. “Oh, he’s the pastor who started the new church. What’d he want?”

  “He claims Aunt Talitha agreed to rent out the basement as a meeting space for the church.” She reached for Will’s hands to wipe them before he latched onto her hair. “Did you know anything about it?”

  “No.” Jenna propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. She looked totally forlorn. “That’s the church Ned’s been attending, wanting me to visit. I can’t say I’d relish having them around. They already tie up too much of his time.”

  So much for taking her mind off her marital problems. “I don’t see how they could rent it until we finish the space, and we can’t afford that right now.”

  “They’d be there all the time—apparently they’re pretty active with the community service projects all week long. Ned’s mentioned some kind of after-school mentoring program. He’s volunteering with a food pantry and a clothes closet ministry.” She rolled her eyes. “Reminded me of that old busybody neighbor we had, Mrs. What’s-Her-Name, who brought us clothes and reported Mom and Dad to the social worker.”

  Humiliation nearly two-decades old stung Lilly’s face as if the act had happened yesterday. Mrs. Wiley had come from across the street with a bag of new dollar-store shorts and tops and, within viewing and hearing range of other neighbor kids, wrinkled her nose in disgust and offered to wash Lilly and Jenna’s clothing for them since their parents didn’t seem to care.

  Even if the woman’s intentions had been good, she’d carried out the act of charity in a scarring manner. And set their dad on course to uproot and move his family once again, tearing them away from some good people of a local church who had been quietly helping her and Jenna—people who’d shown them kindness and love.

  Old anger burned like acid in Lilly’s stomach. “I’ve done some figuring. If we hold a few small knitting classes upstairs, we’ll generate income from fees and selling the supplies. We should be able to get by until we can afford to renovate the basement to hold larger classes.”

  “Who’d teach?”

  Lilly eyed her sister for evidence s
he was poking fun, and immediately thought of Daniel, teasing, promising to come back to see her knitting. She ignored the warm, cozy feeling and checked her sister’s face. Not a hint of a smile. “I don’t know. But I’ll work on it. In the meantime, I’m going to check Aunt Talitha’s records for any information on the agreement with Daniel.”

  Jenna pushed away her barely touched bowl and wiped her mouth. “You know, that rent money would be a sure thing.”

  “Yeah, but we’d have to spend a lot to get there. Besides, building a sense of community is important for our type of business. I’d rather ask Ned to help us get started on finishing the basement, to create a place for customers to hang out. That way, there’s no deadline and no rush. Volunteer labor, of course, until we can afford—”

  “He’s gone.”

  A frisson of alarm passed over her. Surely Jenna didn’t mean that in the way it sounded. Surely he’d just left for work. “What do you mean, gone?”

  Jenna looked up, her pain-filled eyes welling with tears. “Ned can’t help us with the store anymore. He left me.”

  Chapter Two

  Armed with two lists, Daniel headed to The Yarn Barn the next day, trying to keep his promise to his grandmother. He hoped to at least get a peek at the basement to see if it was as ideal a setting as Gran had asserted. Though he wouldn’t push Lilly and her sister, he did need to find the church a new location soon.

  His first list included all the advantages of allowing the church to rent—including the idea for the church to renovate the space—as well as the perks they would offer.

  The second list was extra incentive. An evaluation of her store’s current visibility in the community, along with suggestions to increase exposure. Might as well use his marketing expertise to help.

  He pulled into the gravel parking lot and got a good look at the place in daylight. Granted, the building was old. But the structure, painted barn red, with a sloping roof and white trim, had charm. Was quaint and welcoming.

  Wind chimes jingled as he walked in, something new she’d added since his visit yesterday.