by Katlyn Grace
She smiled at the way he worded it. “Oh, so you wouldn’t love the company?”
“It’s an excuse to make you feel guilty. That way you have to come.”
“I see.” She smirked. “Can you cook?”
He laughed before he even answered, a sure sign that he could not. “I can try to. If Chinese takeout is on the counter instead, don’t judge.”
She snickered at his statement. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Maybe I can get Sara to cook.” He quirked an eyebrow and added a mischievous grin, after a moment of silence.
“Yeah, she’ll get right on that.” Hope laughed. “The poor girl could barely carry a pot without wincing right now.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I could try.” The smirk on Ethan’s face told Hope all she needed to know.
“She’ll tell you no.” Hope had only known Sara for a week now, but she already knew what kind of relationship Sara and Ethan had. It was an amusing one full of jokes, bluntness, and teasing.
“Then be prepared for takeout.” He grimaced.
“You can cook. For some reason, I have some sort of faith in you. Besides, if it’s a grilled cheese I’ll be happy.” She winked and went around refilling coffee cups. She stopped for a moment back at Ethan’s seat. “If you cook, I’ll bring ingredients to make a dessert,” Hope added, sending a convincing look his way. She even wiggled her eyebrows.
It was like watching a puppy’s ear perk up at the sound of the word treat. His grin was incredible. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Do you have something you would prefer to learn to make…or just eat?” Hope laughed as she pointed toward the display counter.
“The éclairs for sure. They’re my second favorite.” He grinned and played with his empty coffee cup.
“Excellent choice.”
Ethan stood up, stretched, and grabbed his leather jacket. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got counseling to go to.” He left her a tip, which she thanked him for.
“Don’t let my brother be too hard on you. If he is, send me and I’ll fix it.” Hope grinned, knowing that Mark would never be too rude or too hard on a person like Ethan, or any person really. It was fun to tease though.
“He’s a good guy with good intentions.” He smiled. “Plus, he’s like you. A softie.” He headed toward the door.
Hope tilted her head to the side. “I don’t know whether that’s a good thing, or a terrible thing.”
“Believe me, it’s a good thing.” He winked and walked out the door that jingled behind him.
Hope felt heat rise to her neck first, then to her ears, and finally, her cheeks. She smiled as she watched Ethan walk away on the sidewalk. There was something about him, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He seemed different. Hope shook herself out of her daze and made her way back to the kitchen.
seven
“B estest is not a word, Mark.” Bri chewed on the end of her pen as she stared her brother down.
“It is in my dictionary,” he retorted, throwing a piece of popcorn her way. He missed her, and his golden retriever puppy scampered its way over to eat it.
“I’m not counting it.”
“Add the points to my score,” he begged.
“No.”
“You’re just mad because I wouldn’t count your insane, made up word.” Mark stuck his tongue out at her.
“It was a Z on a triple point space!”
“It wasn’t even pronounceable, Bri.” Hope’s brother narrowed his eyebrows at their youngest sister.
Hope shook her head, snorting at the bickering her siblings were in the middle of. Scrabble was a game that Mark and Brianna never failed to make an intense competition.
They were gathered at Mark’s cute, cabin-like home on a calm Thursday evening to watch the Chicago Bears play. Hope was cozied up on Mark’s shaggy rug, dressed in her sweats, with a slice of a local Italian diner’s pizza in her hand. It didn’t get much better than this. She enjoyed evenings with her brother and sister, it was always entertaining.
“Hope, it’s your turn,” Mark grumbled. He’d removed the word BESTEST off the board and replaced it with THE.
“Very original.” Hope cackled at his word.
“You two are just jealous. I didn’t choose the simple life; the simple life chose me.” He tossed another piece of popcorn in the dog’s direction.
“You’re making Snoopy gain weight.” Hope referred to Mark’s dog that was begging for more human food. Mark loved Charlie Brown films, so that was where the puppy gained its name. Mark had rescued him from a shelter. The owners didn’t want Snoopy, so Mark expanded the family a bit. He had a soft spot for animals, but he would never admit it.
“A little chubby never killed nobody.” He shrugged. “This dog is a growin’ pup.” The puppy brought Mark a slightly chewed tennis ball and Mark tossed it across the living room for the dog to fetch.
Bri chuckled as Snoopy dove for the ball and face planted into a wall. “I’m going to grab a soda. Anyone want one?”
“I’ll take a Cola.” Mark took up his sister’s offer, then laughed at Snoopy as he pranced back with the ball in his mouth.
“Make that two.” Hope batted her eyelashes as she watched Brianna make her way to Mark’s kitchen.
“I wonder if she will consider being my maid and do everything for me?” Mark grinned. Their younger sister did anything and everything at their request. When they were kids, they gave Bri the role of supplying their very needs when they were too lazy to fulfill them themselves. Like Bri always being the one to bring them all back peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when they were playing in the tree house in their backyard. Now they just plain teased her about it.
“She has to do it with the title sister. She won’t hold the title of being a maid.” Hope chuckled and played the word QUIXOTRY on a Q already placed on the board. Mark snarled at the word that, with perfect placement, earned her three hundred and sixty-five points.
Hope hopped up from the floor and settled into Mark’s comfy leather couch, satisfied with her turn. They’d been sitting on the floor, hunched over the coffee table, trying to finish their Scrabble game that was taking over an hour. She was getting sick of coming up with words to put on the board and her back was getting stiff, but the company of her siblings made it worthwhile.
“How’s counseling with Ethan going?” Hope asked, hoping her brother wouldn’t mind the question. Mark normally didn’t talk about other’s problems when he worked with people who had addictions, but this time it was important to Hope. She needed to at least know if it was going somewhat well from someone other than Ethan’s point of view.
“He’s opened up a little bit more over the past two weeks. We’ve talked about why he started drinking. I’ve given him a couple Bible verses to look at, but I don’t want to pressure or guilt him into anything.” He took a seat beside her on the couch.
“Has he mentioned anything else to you?” Hope picked at one of her chipped nails that had broken. She desperately needed a manicure.
“Other than his parents? No. We’ve went through everything that’s happened from the car crash, up until now. Why do you ask?”
“I think we’re missing something. There’s a bigger picture that he’s not telling us about. He never goes into detail about his past, before he lost his parents. Where are all his happy memories?”
Mark considered it. “You’re most likely on to something, I’ll write a reminder in my journal.” He rested his head back on the black leather couch.
“He asked me to dinner with his sister and him, Saturday evening.” Hope bit her lip, hoping her brother wouldn’t look too far into the friendly offer Ethan made earlier in the day.
“I know.” His comment threw Hope off.
She sat straight up. “How?”
“He asked me if it’d be okay before he asked you.” Mark met her eyes while a slight smirk played on his lips.
Hope couldn’t help but blush. It wa
s sweet that Ethan took that much consideration into his gestures. “He’s just a friend.”
“He’s nice, and not half bad of a guy, but take some advice from a guy who has seen a lot. Don’t lead him on…not until he’s stable.” He paused, taking time to carefully choose his words. “He needs God, Hope. And you need a Godly man.”
Hope absorbed every ounce of what Mark advised her to do. She needed a firm in his faith kind of man to lead her. She had to pray for him, even if she didn’t know who he would be yet. She had to pray that he would be exactly what she needed, not what she wanted, for necessities were far more important than wants.
Hope also had to look at the other side of her prayer too. Her future husband would need a Godly woman to support his calling and passions. Someone that would stand on God’s truth and never veer the wrong way. She needed to examine more of herself before she thought more about want she needed in a partner for life. Hope decided then to start sincerely looking more into who God needed her to be.
Ethan needed God to change his life—the direction of it, and the perspective of it. Then, Hope might consider him more than a friend. Until then, she needed to wait it out. God had a plan, and she trusted Him.
“Thank you.” Hope smiled at her older brother. She simply didn’t know what she’d do without her older brother. God had placed Mark in her life for a reason, even if it was just to run over her toes with his battery-operated Mustang.
It was more than that, but she laughed silently at her thoughts.
“Something smells delicious.” Hope followed Ethan through his house.
His house was a rather large, two-story modern farmhouse. Hope immediately felt at home with the white wood accents and the floor to ceiling windows allowing room for plenty of natural light. She would be lying if she said she didn’t love it.
The exquisite home sat upon acres on acres of open land that was placed on the top of a hill. The sunset view would be incredible. She didn’t know Ethan’s plans for the evening, but she’d have to ask for time to watch the sunset. She found there wasn’t a sunset God painted that she didn’t like.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up. I would have, but Sara made me cook after all. She and I both want your lovely dessert.” He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. Ethan was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black long sleeve shirt that traced his biceps. Hope was relieved when she saw his casual look, for she picked a simple, oversized navy sweater and faded black jeggings.
“It was no problem. I’m hungry, so I’m glad it worked out.” She caused him to chuckle.
“Sara’s in the kitchen. She’s overworking herself. Please make her sit down. She won’t listen to a single thing I say.”
“If I didn’t know any better I would have thought you were talking about a child.” She laughed as he led her into the kitchen.
Ethan pulled the sliding barn door that separated the kitchen from the spacious living room. Hope’s eyes bulged at the baker’s heaven that she just stepped into.
The kitchen was beautiful in it’s all white glory. A large marbled island sat in the center with shiplap cascading down the sides. Hope couldn’t wait to use it while she made dessert. The kitchen in her apartment was far too compact for her liking, she’d enjoy borrowing Ethan’s for an evening. Although bright white, the cupboards had a wooden, rustic farmhouse look to them, which made the kitchen cozy. She was already envisioning her pastel kitchen utensils atop the white marbled countertops. They would add such a cute pop of color.
“Your home is gorgeous,” she gushed.
Ethan chuckled at her reaction. “Thank you. It was my mom and dad’s.” He seemed proud of it. And he also didn’t look upset at his own mention of his parents. Hope smiled as she denoted the slow progress. The fact that he still lived in the same home after losing his parents told Hope that Ethan had roots bound here that couldn’t just be left unattended to. She admired him for that. He was stronger than he thought.
“I’m going out to clean up the table under the pergola. I hope you don’t mind, it shouldn’t be too cold to eat outside this evening.” He headed toward the back door and Hope grinned. It meant she’d get to see the sunset. “Make yourself at home. Sara should be in here somewhere. I figure you’ll enjoy the kitchen.”
“Already have.” She smiled as he walked outside through the sliding glass door in the kitchen.
She set her bag of supplies to make the éclairs on the kitchen island. This place was too neat and gorgeous for a drunk to be living in it. It made her wonder why he put himself in the position he was in. Obviously, it was more complex than the simple thought she was pondering on, but the question still lingered in the back of her mind.
She wandered around the kitchen for any sight of Sara.
A tart burner in the corner of a counter filled the room with a cupcake-like scent. It had to be a touch Sara added. She couldn’t see Ethan being the type to burn tarts. She snickered at that.
“Sara?” Hope called.
After a few moments she received a response. “In here.”
She followed a voice that led to what looked like a cabinet in the opposite corner of the tart burner. Hope moved beside of the massive refrigerator and listened for movement. She pulled the tall cabinet door open and had to keep her jaw from touching the whitewashed hardwood floor. It wasn’t just a tall cabinet; it was a walk-in pantry! The gigantic pantry was full of shelves holding all sorts of labeled jars, baking supplies, spices, and non-perishable foods. Ethan and Sara’s parents had to have been wealthy. The entire place was absolutely jaw dropping, and Ethan had inherited what looked like all of it.
Hope found Sara rummaging in the corner for something on a shelf. “Do you see garlic anywhere?” Sara frowned.
“I did not picture Ethan being this organized.” Still in awe, Hope searched for a jar labeled Garlic.
“He may not cook often, but he’s oddly particular about what he does have,” Sara said.
Hope took a mental note of what Sara informed her on.
“Ah, here it is.” Sara grabbed a jar stuffed with garlic flakes and headed out of the pantry and toward the oven. She sat the jar down on the island. “Now, shall we say a proper hello?” She giggled and gave Hope a welcoming, warm hug.
“How are you doing, Sara?” Hope smiled and hopped onto one of the barstools at the island.
“Pain comes and goes but lifting a five-pound weight isn’t as bad anymore.” Sara chuckled. “It’s all about progress, so it’s going well.”
“You look great.” Hope beamed. “And might I add that whatever you’ve helped Ethan cook up smells great.” Hope nodded toward the oven.
“We won’t tell him that I’ve been supervising when he steps out of the kitchen,” she whispered and then let out a laugh. “He made most of it, but he had to ask me how to cook it about a million times. Then he wrote it down, but I kept an eye on it. He tends to burn things.” The girls giggled.
Sara pulled out what looked like a pan of French bread from the oven, sprinkled some garlic and cheese on top, and then set the pan back in the oven to broil. “I hope you like Italian. Baked spaghetti is on the menu.”
“It’s one of my favorites.” Hope smiled. “Could I stick the filling for the éclairs in the fridge?”
“Of course. It’s a fridge big enough for two or three humans to fit in. There’s room.”
Hope laughed. “Remind me not to make you angry, you might stuff me in Ethan’s fridge.”
“You’re already too good a friend.” Sara snickered and grabbed the baked spaghetti from the oven.
Hope opened the refrigerator doors and didn’t have to search hard for a place to put her baking goodies. She froze when she saw two brand new cases of beer in Ethan’s fridge, along with many half empty whiskey bottles. Tears threatened to spill down Hope’s eyes. The realization that Ethan planned on drinking even more hurt her heart.
He was a drunk, what did she expect? It broke her though, to see it first
hand. To hear about it was one thing, but to physically see it made a difference. It was an addiction that gradually beat the man mentally, physically, and spiritually, until he died. Alcohol was a murderer. Ethan had the desire to stop, Hope could see it in his despairing eyes. Yet, his taste buds and mind were tricking him into thinking he needed more and more.
Sara must have noticed Hope’s movement abruptly come to a halt, for she was by Hope’s side within seconds. She realized what Hope was staring at and placed a hand on Hope’s shoulder. “Relax, Hope. He really is making progress. I’ve seen it. We just have to accept that the process might be slower than what we want or expect. Plus, he won’t magically get better. He needs Jesus to make that happen.”
Hope nodded. “It’s hard to imagine the battle raging in his mind; wanting to do better, but everything in him is telling him he can’t.”
“He has a sister who can pray for him now, and I’m not giving up. Between counseling with Mark, your sister, you, and me, I believe we can get Ethan back to the person he once used to be.” Sara spoke with so much positivity. Her renewed faith with God glistened and it inspired Hope. “I plan on being at church tomorrow morning. I’m feeling well enough to sit through a service without my neck screaming at me,” she added with a gleaming smile.
“I’ll be sure to save you a seat.” Hope smiled, then began to help Sara prepare the dishes to bring out on the patio. All the while, she prayed that the war in Ethan’s heart would settle. That he would discover a hope that was everlasting.
After a yummy dinner, baking, eating too many éclairs to count, followed by a comedy movie Ethan had picked out, a long walk was much needed. Sara called it a night after the éclairs and went to bed upstairs in Ethan’s home. According to Ethan, Sara’s house was just over the hill, but she was staying with him until she fully recovered. The house that Sara claimed as her own was once Ethan and Sara’s grandparents’ house. It looked like a cozy cabin that Hope would love to pay a visit to sometime.
Ethan suggested he and Hope go on a walk around his private and peaceful property, and Hope was immensely enjoying it. The wind blowing through the fields and the trickle of a stream near the woods were both something she could get used to, for she never enjoyed large, crowded places. She could see herself reading a book by the small pond in the field and not giving a care to the rest of the world around her.