“You!”
“Sure. I was the owner of the company, so I was responsible.”
“Doesn’t seem fair. You had no knowledge of the wrongdoing.”
Hank nodded. “But I should’ve. The court took everything I had that was worth anything, including the spec home. That went a long way in paying off debt. And I went back to what I do best – small handyman jobs. Honest, sweaty work.”
“What about your wife?”
“Ruthie died about a year after her diagnosis.” He turned to take in Leslie’s eyes, her face. “Since we were uninsured at that time, we had to go on Medicaid for all her treatment. It killed me to sacrifice top quality care, and you should’ve seen some of the places we had to go to. So if you look at it that way, it was a blessing for her to go so fast. She went home to her Father.”
On impulse, Leslie wrapped her arms around him, embracing him. He’d been through so much. How had he survived? Where had he found the strength?
“And Jeremy?”
Hank shook his head. She felt it against her shoulder as they hugged. “Jeremy’s in prison, Leslie.”
Leslie pulled back. “Prison?”
Hank nodded. “When the pieces fell, Jeremy was charged with two counts of tax evasion and a few charges related to loan sharking and predatory lending. That’s against the law, you know.” He gave her a half-hearted grin.
“Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s over in Columbia. He’s made it to what they call a pre-release center. He’ll be getting out soon. He’s about served his sentence.”
Chapter Eight
A phone rang, a shrill ring cutting through the quiet room, causing Leslie to jump in her seat. Hank chuckled, uttered an “Excuse me a moment,” and went to answer it. She watched him go, her mind stuck on the unspeakable story he’d told her. Would she have come out of that same set of events unscathed? She was sure he had his scars. On his mind, on his heart. How could he not?
But scarred or not, she had met the man he was now. And that man caused her heart to skitter a bit. She looked around the room. Now, his unkempt cottage made a whole lot of sense. He worked hard to earn money, most of which went towards paying off his son’s debts. His son’s mistakes. What a father this man was. She already knew it, based on his interactions with Marianne and Stella. But it was easy to be a good parent to a good child. Anyone could do that. It took a truly remarkable person to be a good and loyal parent to a child who’d made so many mistakes.
She heard his voice from the other room, wrapping up the conversation. Then he popped back into the great room.
“Hey, you want to get out of here a bit? Go on a drive?”
“Sure.” She stood up, smoothing out her shorts with her palms.
“That was someone I’ve done some work for. He wants to show me something else I can do for him. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Or, I could go home. I don’t want to interrupt your business.”
He put an arm around her shoulder. “I’d be honored if you went with me. And it should only take a few minutes.”
“Let’s go, then.”
They locked the house and climbed into Hank’s pickup. It was a short drive through residential streets and they pulled up in front of a moderate house that looked about forty years old. Hank slipped his hand into hers as they walked to the front door and Leslie realized she was coming to love how comfortable it felt when he did things like that.
A man in his late thirties answered the door. “Talk about customer service. You didn’t need to drop everything the minute I called, Hank.” But his smile said he was glad he had.
“Not a problem at all. I had plans this evening, but I brought them along with me.” He planted a happy smile on Leslie. “This is my friend Leslie. Leslie, this is Bob.”
Leslie murmured a greeting, then they went into the house. It was in pristine shape inside. The living room was welcoming and friendly, decorated in a beach cottage theme. The walls blue, the wooden furniture painted a shabby-chic white, the walls covered with beach-themed paintings and paraphernalia. An adjoining dining room was more formal, an oak table, chairs and china cabinet, the walls displaying portraits of Bob with a striking blond woman posing in front of various travel destinations: the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Canyon, Times Square.
Bob said, “Next on Martha’s list is the hallway bathroom. This way.”
They followed him. The bathroom was cramped and in need of modernization. The sink and vanity, as well as the commode, appeared original to the house. Bob showed Hank some pictures cut out of a catalog. “She likes this countertop, and this ceramic sink. Does that go together?”
“Sure. Martha’s got excellent taste. She makes my job easy.”
Bob laughed. “I’m relieved to hear you say that. She’s out buying the stuff now. If she knew I invited you over, she would want to be here. Once she’s on the hunt for home design, you can barely stop her.”
Hank studied some paint color and ceramic tile samples and nodded. “This’ll work. What’s your timeline?”
“Flexible to your schedule. When can you fit us in?”
Hank tilted his head back, his mind moving. “I’ve got about two weeks left on Springs Avenue. How about I start the Monday after that? I could fit this bathroom remodel in before I start the next batch with Beach Management.”
Bob pulled out a handheld device and typed with his thumbs. “Perfect. Martha will be so happy to get it started.”
“Shouldn’t take a full week. Three days, maybe? I’ll write up an estimate and get it to you.”
“Okay, but I know it’ll be reasonable. It always is.” He turned to Leslie. “Do you know how talented this guy is?”
She smiled tentatively.
“He’s done this entire house almost, room by room. The living room, dining room, kitchen, family room. We bought it knowing we had to fix it up, but didn’t realize how sadly lacking we were in the skills to do it. Martha has the vision, but I didn’t have the know-how to carry her vision through. We were lucky the day we found Hank.”
She looked over at him and thought she detected a faint blush. “Your home is beautiful.”
“Okay, see you in a few weeks.” Hank ushered her out and back to the truck.
“You don’t like taking compliments, do you?”
He laughed. “No, it’s not that. It’s just, this is business. This is work. Lots of people can do this stuff. Nothing to get cocky about.”
“You do wonderful work. You have a ton of skills. You can really do all that – tile, paint, installing countertops?”
“Oh, sure. Whatever it takes. Laying carpet, some electrical, carpentry. It’s not hard. Takes some time and patience. Oh, and direction from the client. That’s why I love working at their house. Martha tells me exactly what she wants. That’s helpful.”
Instead of heading back to his house, Hank drove in the direction of the coastline and pulled into the parking lot of a public beach. They left their shoes in the truck and joined hands as they maneuvered the short incline to the beach. Leslie was pleased when he didn’t drop her hand as they reached level ground.
They walked leisurely and although she glanced at him several times, he didn’t meet her eyes, instead he studied the ocean skyline.
“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Hank.”
His eyebrows shot up, then relaxed with a smile. “A lot there, huh?
Leslie laughed. “What is it about us, anyway? I had ‘diarrhea of the mouth’ with you the other night, and it must have been a contagious condition for you tonight.”
“I’m sure you could guess, I don’t share that story with many folks,” Hank said.
She nodded.
“But there is a reason why I shared it with you.” He stopped walking and faced her, capturing her other hand in the process. “You, of all people, know God sometimes answers prayers by sending people who can help.”
“I’ve certainly learned that lesson on my short roa
dtrip. Being willing to help where needed sometimes opens doors to miracles.”
“Right. When you told me your story the other night on the beach, I felt like God was taking a hammer and pounding my brain with it. ‘Listen, dummy. This is important.’” He wiped a hand across his forehead and joined with hers again. “I mean, I’ve been praying for years about Jeremy. Asking for God’s help on his behalf, to get him through his prison sentence without too much damage. Prayers for a normal life when he gets released.”
She squeezed his hands. “Of course you have. You love him. I can tell that you’re a very good father.”
He shook his head, sighed. “But there’s a prayer I’ve been ignoring, Leslie. There’s a prayer I’ve been neglecting for almost ten years now that I should’ve been saying. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
His voice was strained with pain under the surface. This man, this traditional southern gentleman, was close to tears and she had no idea what to do to help him. She glanced around, looking for a place to sit, but not finding anything, she said, “Do you want to sit, Hank? Here, in the sand?”
They sank into the sand and she pretended not to notice when he scrubbed both his eyes. In a moment, he’d pulled himself together and he cleared his throat.
“I’m a simple man, Leslie. I’ve always followed God, always tried to live a good life. But this thing with Jeremy really threw me for a loop.”
“Of course it has. He did some terrible things. It would throw anyone for a loop.” She put her hand on the soft denim covering his leg, trying to offer some comfort.
He studied her hand. “You say you think I’m a good dad. I’ll tell you something you might find hard to believe.” He lifted his head and looked straight at her. “Jeremy’s been in jail for close to a decade and I’ve never visited him. Not once.”
He was right. She did find that hard to believe. If Jasmine had, God forbid, gone to jail, for whatever reason, her first impulse would be to chase her there and make her life as easy as possible. It was implausible, probably impossible. But that’s what she’d want to do. To stay away from her daughter for a decade, to write her off completely, was unthinkable.
“I don’t know what to say, Hank. I’m sure you had your reasons,” she ended lamely. Knowing it sounded as inadequate to him as it did to her, she tried again. “I mean, like I said, he did some really horrible things.”
Hank lifted his hand and used his fingers to count. “He lied to me. He stole from me. He destroyed my life’s work and my reputation. He took away everything I worked for and my financial stability for my family, my future.”
“Yes.”
Hank gave a harsh shake of his head. “But that’s not why I can’t forgive the boy. Those are all mistakes, sure. All things I’ve struggled with over the years, wondering why on earth he did those things. Why he couldn’t confide in me when he was in over his head. Where had I failed him? The boy I raised couldn’t be responsible for those acts of betrayal. And yet, he was.”
The sound of the surf behind them came into her awareness, and a few isolated gulls cried overhead. Darkness was starting to sink in and it was getting more difficult to see him clearly. He stood and took a few steps away from her. She didn’t follow, and when he spoke again she had to concentrate to hear him.
“What I find unforgiveable is what he did to his mother. My Ruthie had to live her last months with sub-par medical care because of him. She was dying, and she deserved the best I could give her. But I couldn’t give her the best. I couldn’t pay for it.”
“Oh, Hank …” She had no idea what to say. What could possibly comfort this man with such a heavy burden on his heart?
“That’s why I’ve never stepped foot in the jail to visit him, why I’ve never called him or even sent a letter. I can’t get past what he did to his mom.”
Leslie cleared her throat, her mind racing. “Did he know about her leukemia when he neglected to pay the insurance bill?”
He flipped around to face her. “No, but it doesn’t matter. He let our insurance lapse and when we needed it, it was gone. Because of his bad judgment.”
She nodded. “You loved her,” she said softly.
“I sure did. Ruthie was my everything.” He looked down at his feet and Leslie gave in to a strong urge to go to him, put her arms around him, stroke his hair and rub his back. The love and devotion Hank had for his wife, gone a decade now, was another item in a growing list she admired and respected him for.
They stood together, her arms around him, for long moments. Then he sniffed and pulled away. “I need you to pray with me. For me. God’s put a burden on my heart about this. Probably because Jeremy’s being released soon. I need to come to terms with this. I can’t live with this the rest of my days.”
She nodded. Never the one to pray out loud with others like many of her church friends, she pushed aside her apprehension. Hank needed her help, and God had placed her here. It was time for action.
She gripped both his hands, and connecting eyes with him, she shut hers, bowed her head and prayed, “Dear God, I want to thank you for this man, one of your very faithful servants. He is hurting, Father. He’s had a decade of hurt surrounding his son Jeremy and his wife Ruthie. Please lift this burden now, God. We know you want us to lead praiseful, unencumbered lives. Please follow through with your promise now, and flood Hank with a sense of forgiveness for Jeremy. He’s paid the price for his mistakes, now let his father experience that wonderful peace of forgiveness. Please help me help him with this transformation, and we thank You for Your love for us. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
She started to pull her hands away but Hank squeezed them. She stayed standing, facing him in the sand, holding onto his hands. She closed her eyes and listened to the constant pounding of the waves coming in. In a few moments, Hank took a deep breath and released her hands.
“Thank you.”
“It’ll help. I’m sure of it.”
He nodded, looked around and motioned to where he’d left the truck parked. “Shall we?”
“Sure.”
They ambled back to the truck and got in. Although they didn’t speak, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. More like an amiable silence between two people where words weren’t always necessary. They drove back to his house. Leslie walked to her car and he followed her.
“You know, this is a great first step. But it may not happen overnight.” She felt like she needed to say something in case he was expecting miraculous results.
He grinned sadly. “You don’t have to tell me that, darlin’. It ain’t my first rodeo.”
She laughed.
He continued, “I know God’s capable of washing my heart clean of bad feelings, but I also know I have work to do. As you said, getting you to pray with me about it is a first step. First of many.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m honored you asked me.”
They said their good-byes and she got in her car. As she drove down the street and turned, he was on her mind long after he was out of her sight.
* * *
As Leslie was slipping off to sleep that night, her cell phone rang. It was sitting beside her on the bedside table so she reached over and picked it up. Jasmine’s picture lit up the dark room.
“Hello, sweetie!”
“Hi, Mom. Did I wake you up?”
“No, I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. But my goodness, you’re up awful late. It’s what, 4:30 in the morning there?”
“I’m not up late, I’m up early. I’m actually sitting in a train station. Several of us are going to a fashion show in Monaco.”
Leslie sat up in bed. “How exciting!”
“Yeah, not so much. I mean, it’ll be great to get out of the city and see the countryside. It’s our first chance to do that since we got here. But we’ll be working like dogs. We’re the gophers backstage, helping the designers and the models get dressed, running errands. We won’t actually get to watch the show.”
“Hmmm.
Still a good experience. I mean, you’re going to the French Riviera.”
“Yeah.” Her daughter sighed. “I’m getting a little homesick. I miss you and Dad and God forbid, Pittsburgh. I miss good ole American cheeseburgers and catching a baseball game every once in a while.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s so different from what I’m used to. Just weepy this week, that’s all, Mom. Nothing to worry about. So, tell me about your vacation. Are you having a good time?”
Leslie began telling Jasmine about her trip and after she’d talked for about four straight minutes, Jasmine interrupted her. “Mom, you sound so happy.”
Leslie smiled. “Yes, I suppose I am.” Amazing, considering the circumstances.
“It sounds like this Hank is a pretty special man.”
“Oh …”
“Sounds like you’re seeing a lot of him.”
Leslie squinted in the dark. What had she revealed about Hank that had led Jasmine to that conclusion? “No, not at all, sweetie.”
“Are you falling in love?” Jasmine’s voice was playful and joking, but Leslie put the squash on that right away.
“Of course not! I’ve only known him a few days. Really, Jasmine!”
Jasmine giggled. “If you find a man who appreciates you for the wonderful woman you are, who you enjoy being with, hey, what’s wrong with that? Go for it, I say.”
Leslie brushed off the advice and changed the subject, but later, after she’d wished her daughter well with the French fashion show in the south of France and they’d broken the line between them, she went back to thinking about Hank. Was she interested in him as a potential love interest? Would he be interested in her? And even if those answers were yes, what was the point? They lived hours away in different states. Would she be ready to fall in love again so soon after her divorce? Would it be foolish to give her heart away again?
Endless questions swirled around her brain and she finally fell to sleep with Hank on her mind.
Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3 Page 12