Finding Hope

by Katlyn Grace

  The night was coming to an end, and strangely, Hope didn’t want it to. It felt good to hang out with new friends. She enjoyed the company. Resting on a wooden bench, she watched Ethan skip rocks over the bright filtered pond with fish swimming in it. The colorful setting sun made the night peaceful. It was a wonderful way to end a pleasurable night.

  “Thank you for this evening. I’m glad to know Sara’s back on her own two feet.” Hope watched as Ethan made his way to sit beside her.

  “Come over more often. I’ve had a wonderful time.” The corners of Ethan’s mouth crinkled, gratitude spreading across his face. “Thank you for it.”

  “Oh, I’ll be back. Even if it is just to sit by the pond and feed the ducks.” Hope chuckled.

  “They’re already getting fat. Sara’s been feeding them cheese puffs.” He snorted. Ethan’s eyes wandered over to Hope’s. She could see an awaiting topic of discussion in his kiwi frosting colored eyes. “Your brother gave me a Bible verse this week.”

  Hope’s heart was glad she didn’t have to bring the topic up herself; this time Ethan was stretching it forward himself. She licked her lips. “Which one?”

  “First Corinthians chapter fifteen and verse fifty-five, ‘O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?’” He stopped there, and Hope understood why. Ethan couldn’t grasp the fact that if he or others believed and trusted in God, there would be no loss in death, the grave wouldn’t hold them back.

  She tried to be careful choosing her words. “God never intended for man to die, Ethan. And He certainly doesn’t bring terrible things to happen in your life, not without a cause to make something beautiful from it, of course. God tempts not one person. Does that mean that awful things won’t occur in your life? Absolutely not, because you live in this nutty world. Bad things are going to come across this crazy path we call life, but that doesn’t mean that we should shun God.” She caught his gaze; his face was solemn. “God is so magnificently powerful that He can take the bad things in life and work them for good and for His glory. Whatever you do, please don’t accuse God for what happened to your parents.

  “Read the book of Job. Job lost everything, but the very first thing he did was praise God.” She inhaled a deep breath. Thank you for those words, God. You speak in a still small voice, yet You are so powerful. Touch Ethan’s broken heart.

  Hope watched as he ran his fingers through his curly hair. Ethan needed peace. He needed to trust God. He was twenty-five and already looked three or four years older than his actual age. He needed hope before this addiction completely ate him up. It was swallowing his past and making it ten times worse than it had to be.

  “Do you really believe in Heaven…that there’s an afterlife full of harmony and joy?”

  “I do.” Her answer was simple and firm. She wasn’t going to compromise it, not even for an incredibly handsome guy sitting beside her.

  “I don’t think I can.” His head hung low as he shut his eyes at the words Hope knew he didn’t believe. He was battling it out with himself, and if he was not careful, he’d let himself win and give into giving up.

  It’d be easier for him to believe in Heaven and take comfort knowing his parents were there, than to place the blame directly on his shoulders. Ethan made the pressure intense when he didn’t need to. If he just gave it to God instead… “Christ defeated death when He arose, that gives hope beyond the grave, Ethan. Seeing how you said your parents believed and trusted in God, it’s a peaceful reassurance to trust in.” The breeze blew Hope’s straight hair around her face. She was getting cold, it was getting late, and she needed to go home. “Sara is coming to church in the morning. Would you like to join us?”

  Ethan immediately shook his head “Maybe another time.” He straightened himself and stood from the bench. He grabbed Hope’s hand to help her up.

  Hope only nodded, for she didn’t want to guilt him.

  There was a long string of semi-comfortable silence between the two of them as they walked to Hope’s vehicle. “Thank you for dinner and thank you for letting me get to know you a bit better. Don’t eat all the leftover éclairs at once.” Hope snickered. She wanted to leave the night on a light, happy note.

  “We will do something again soon, even if it is just you and me. Sara took almost all the leftovers to her room. You should feel sorry for me.” He made a puppy face that could have defeated an actual puppy.

  “Woe is Ethan.” She mocked as she hopped into her car and rolled down the window. She was glad he was suggesting another day for them soon. They’d be good friends, she decided.

  “Woe is me.” He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking up loose gravel as he watched her drive away.

  eight

  “M om, that looks stunning.” Hope placed her hands on her hips and stared at the Christmas tree in awe. The tree that Hope and Brianna picked out was artificial, full, tall, and white with colorful twinkling lights. For the finishing touch, her mom hung pastel pink glittered cooking utensil ornaments on the limbs. It was like looking at a Barbie doll Christmas tree, very girly.

  Hope smiled as she watched her mom, Heather, decorate the Christmas tree in the corner of the bakery. It was a Lawson tradition to always decorate the tree weeks before Thanksgiving. The tradition was being kept this year. Hope was thrilled to have her parents back in the United States from a recent mission trip to Uganda. Just the thought of being all together for the upcoming Holidays made Hope’s heart feel warm and fuzzy.

  “When I saw these ornaments, I immediately thought of you and Bri.” Hope’s mom beamed as she took a step back to approve of the tree. “The lady back in Uganda was making these to use the money to feed her family. So, I made for sure to buy plenty.” Heather winked at Hope.

  Gratitude filled Hope’s heart. The wisdom filled woman had become her best friend. Heather had long, silky chocolate hair the same color as Mark’s, although it was growing more silver as she aged gracefully. She wore a new wooly scarf a kid in Uganda helped her make. Her mom owned more scarves than Hope would ever be able to count.

  Hope’s mom always supported her and her siblings for as long as she could remember. She loved them enough to teach them to pursue the dreams God designed for them to fulfil. Heather was the reason behind Hope’s passion for making desserts. She taught Hope how to make Oreo balls when she was thirteen and Hope fell in love with concocting new recipes. Brianna always played the role of Hope’s trustee sidekick, whilst Mark and her dad, Steven, snuck in to lick the beaters or taste test.

  “I love them! Thank you.” Hope handed a steaming cup full of chamomile tea to her mom. “I’m making Dad’s favorite pumpkin spice cupcakes for Thanksgiving on Thursday.” Her dad would protest if Hope made anything else, for the pumpkin cupcakes were his favorite.

  “He’ll love that.” Her mom took a seat at the counter as Hope boxed up blueberry muffin cookies for a pick-up order later this evening. “Will you be joining Bri and I for some crazy Black Friday shopping?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love getting to see my mom in full shopping mode. I might have to bring a video camera this time.” They both laughed at Hope’s comment. Visions of her mom running down the aisles of Target were forever embedded in her family’s, and probably all Target employees’, memory.

  “Would you mind if I brought a friend?” Hope planned on bringing Ethan’s sister, Sara. They bonded quite a bit over the past couple weeks. She figured Sara could use some extra girl time.

  “The more the merrier.” Her mom smiled. “Steven and Mark have already opted out. Mark’s surprising your dad with tickets to a Chicago Bears game.” Heather’s green eyes beamed.

  Hope stopped what she was doing and waited for her mom inform her it was a joke. But she never did. “You’re kidding,” Hope replied.

  “Nope. He has a plan on how to surprise him and everything. They’re making an extra-long weekend of it.” She took a sip of her tea and grinned.

/>   “And to think, I supply him with cupcakes.” Hope scoffed. “I better be next.” She laughed.

  It was worse tonight. Much worse.

  “Start with something simple. Like when your lips crave a drink, grab an Oreo cookie instead.” Mark’s words from their most recent therapy session rang in Ethan’s ears.

  Oreo cookies were his favorite, but he had already gone through two family size packages in the past two days. He was going to get fat on cream filled cookies. This wasn’t working.

  Gripping the sink counter, Ethan pulled himself up from the cold bathroom floor. He stared at the four by six picture he’d been clutching onto. It was of him with his parents at his high school graduation. He’d found it in the back of his closet earlier and it’d sparked tonight’s explosion. Standing on the soccer field, his mother, freckles in full bloom, kissed Ethan on his cheek while his stepdad beamed proudly at Ethan’s side.

  A million memories hit him like a crashing wave. His senior year had been one of his favorites. If Ethan closed his eyes, he could hear his parents cheering Ethan on as he played on the soccer field. He could smell his mother’s sweet perfume as she ran from the stands to engulf him in a hug. He could feel his true father pat him on the back. The memories were too strong.

  He’d lost it all. His family. His friends. His dignity. It was all gone.

  Heaving out deep breaths, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was red and blotchy, and his eyes were bloodshot. A person observing him would have thought he was a drug addict by the way he was shaking. One step forward, two steps back.

  Ethan thought he was improving, but tonight had been a major setback. The holidays coming up that used to be full of excitement, were now dreadful. He didn’t want to accept the fact that his parents wouldn’t be here for another Thanksgiving. His mom wouldn’t be cooking his favorite homemade brown gravy and singing Christmas carols as she did so. His stepdad wouldn’t be putting up the tree and helping carve the turkey. It wasn’t the same—it would never be the same…and it broke Ethan’s heart.

  He staggered, journeying toward the kitchen. On his way, he seemed to have knocked something over because shards of glass shattered behind him. Instead of turning around to see what he had broken, he continued on his mission for the sensation that his tongue ached for. When his foot began to burn, Ethan glanced down. Blurs marred his vision, but he could clearly see the blood. He could smell the coppery odor. The glass had cut him.

  Ethan almost stopped to observe how bad the cut was, but no. That didn’t matter right now. He fixated his eyes on the fridge as he hobbled into the kitchen. Swinging the refrigerator door open, he opted for a whiskey bottle instead of another beer.

  After two shots of whiskey, he poured the rest of the bottle down the drain. Ethan gripped the sides of the sink to steady himself. Once the first tear fell from his eye, the rest broke lose like a dam that had finally burst wide open as he dwelled on his wretched condition. His breath shuttered as he tried to inhale deeply.

  He needed his sister here tonight. He needed her to tell him he should have chocolate milk instead. Alcohol used to dissolve all of Ethan’s problems and stress. It used to bring euphoria, but recently it had been throwing his past at him and gnawing at him more than he could handle. Ethan felt like a cord being chomped on by a rat.

  Nathaniel had been the God-sent hope Ethan needed after Peter killed himself. Nathaniel had been Ethan’s way of letting go of his past and putting hope and trust in the future…in God.

  Who’s going to help me get out of this black hole that I’m in now? The question rocked his mind as he began to feel dizzy.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. Making his way to the corner of the counter, he tried his very best to focus on where his phone was. After several attempts, he finally grasped it in his hand. He dialed Hope’s phone number, making for sure to punch in the right numbers. He only called her a handful of times before now. He would’ve called his sister, but he vaguely remembered Sara being in pain after her long day of physical therapy. He needed Hope.

  Hope’s cell phone incessantly rang like an annoying crow at the crack of dawn.

  She rolled over in her bed and groaned. It had already been a long day at the bakery. People were filing in left and right for last minute Thanksgiving desserts.

  She glanced at her alarm clock before answering her phone. 3:02 A.M.

  Who would be calling this early in the morning?

  Her heart rate sped up at the possible thought that someone in her family could be hurt, or worse…her brother could have run into trouble with his job.

  She answered the phone, not taking time to look at the number. “Hello?”

  “Hope, I need you.” Hope’s heart immediately sank as she recognized the slurred voice.

  Ethan.

  He fumbled with his words. If he was as depressed as he sounded, it was hard to tell what was running through his mind tonight.

  “I’ll be over in ten minutes. In the meantime, grab a sports drink. The electrolytes will help,” Hope replied, not even bothering to ask what was wrong. Worry filled her mind.

  God, please don’t let Ethan do anything foolish tonight.

  “Be careful on the roads.” He slowly gathered his thoughts. “It’s starting to snow.” Even if he was drunk, Hope could still hear in his desperate voice that he cared.

  She stood up and stretched, then glanced out the curtains by her bay window. It indeed was snowing. “Always.”

  She hung up the phone and pulled an old high school sweatshirt on, along with a pair of jeans. Hope laced up a pair of sneakers and shoved her phone in her back pocket in case of an emergency. She quickly strode to her bathroom barely big enough to move around in, to brush her teeth and pull her hair back into a sloppy looking bun.

  She brewed a cup of coffee to go and dumped a bunch of creamer and sugar in it. It was going to be cold, and she needed to stay awake as she drove. She’d have another cup once she got to Ethan’s place, even if the taste wasn’t pleasant to her taste buds. Early mornings were not her thing. She was a bear most mornings, but this morning she would try her best to be an angel.

  “I can’t believe your mom let you dye your hair red.” Hope’s laughter echoed through Ethan’s house.

  Their friendship had been taken to another level tonight. She arrived hours earlier to an Ethan that she’d never seen before. His door was unlocked, and she found him curled in the corner of his kitchen with a bloody foot. Nothing had prepared her for tonight’s scene. It was only by the grace of God that she’d put herself to work by bandaging his wounded foot and cleaning up shards of glass instead of panicking.

  Alcohol depressed Ethan more than he did to himself when he was sober. Hope gingerly tried to calm him as she helped him gain a clear head.

  It had been hard to get him to speak with her at first, but after she’d placed a hand on his quivering shoulder and told him she was there for him, he’d spent minutes crying on her shoulder. Never had she met a man more broken than Ethan. He was at war with himself. Wanting to do right, but not able to give alcohol up.

  She never wanted to see another episode as she did tonight. Ethan was capable of so much more. She just knew it.

  Hope tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she flipped through Ethan’s family photo albums. She suggested he look at something happy tonight, for he needed some happiness in his life. It had been tough at first but being there with him made it easier. Good memories helped. Ethan finally settled into the grey couch beside of her and was half-laughing. It felt good to see a smile on his face. He was a lot more attractive that way.

  “I wanted to be a clown for Halloween and I wasn’t going to take an itchy wig all day. So, Mom gave me some cash and sent me to the store. I didn’t know I bought permanent hair dye.” Hope watched as Ethan cringed at the memory. “I think I still have the red towel that used to be white around here somewhere.” He chuckled as she flipped through the album.

  “Oh, my g
oodness, look at this!” Hope pointed to a picture of Ethan dressed as Elvis Presley with his hair slicked back. He wore thick rim glasses, a white bedazzled suit, and a guitar by his side. “You were so cute.” Hope laughed.

  “Were? Am I not now?” Ethan fished for compliments.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Hope replied, keeping her eyes glued on the album.

  “So, you think I’m still cute?” A smirk formed across his face.

  She felt her cheeks get hot. She wasn’t going to admit that he was not just cute. He was handsome. She would keep that comment to herself, though. “You’re not bad.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked up at him, teasing him.

  He elbowed her in the side. “You’re not bad either and you have a heart of gold. Not many girls have that now a day.” Ethan rested his back into the faux leather couch.

  Hope knew her cheeks were bound to be a deep crimson color by now.

  “You’re blushing.” Ethan grinned and laid his head back on a plaid pillow.

  Hope could feel his eyes on her as she paged through the photo book full of memories. “And you’re tired,” she remarked.

  Ethan only laughed.

  Hope stopped flipping through the photo album when she came across a picture of Ethan’s mom. “Your mom was beautiful.” His mother’s face was naturally beautiful. Freckles all over, long eyelashes that made her emerald eyes pop, and a dimpled smile just like Ethan’s. Her gorgeous wavy chestnut hair was framed around her face ever so elegantly. Sara favored their mom.

  “I agree.” The pained look on his face told Hope that his mom held a special place in his heart.

  Hope flipped to the next page. “Who’s this?” She stopped at a picture of Ethan smiling with his mom on what looked like his birthday. Hope pointed to a man, on the left of them, holding a beer can in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He looked as if he were in a daze. And from his grubby dress, he seemed as if he didn’t care the least bit about his appearance.