by Katlyn Grace
“I thought you said your dad was a Christian?” She frowned as she compared the picture in the album to a picture frame set out on Ethan’s side table by the couch.
It wasn’t the same man.
She glanced from the pictures to Ethan, who hadn’t been responding to her questions. His frozen stature told Hope that she had come across something she wasn’t supposed to discover. Her heart cracked as she saw his jaw lock and a tear fall down his cheek. Hope knew right then that she discovered the root to all his problems. This was the something she knew he had been holding out on her.
He could have lied to her, but for some reason he found it easier to tell the truth. Ethan hadn’t been thinking when he let Hope flip through the old photo albums. His birth father never crossed his mind. Ethan hadn’t thought he owned pictures of Peter anymore…obviously, he’d been wrong.
Ethan spilled everything to Hope. From being abused by his real father, Peter committing suicide, how his mom and Nathaniel met—everything up until now. Hope just sat there, soaking up even the microscopic details like a sponge. She didn’t say much of anything as Ethan explained his whole life history. To his dismay, she didn’t seem hurt by the fact that Ethan hadn’t told her the full story from the beginning. Instead, she seemed hurt for him.
It felt strange for someone other than his sister to know about the life he had before his stepfather came along…for someone to perceive the entire truth behind his life and the way he lived it. He’d kept Peter a secret for so long because he’d hoped it would all go away, but it never had. More than that though, it felt like an enclosed barrel had been removed from around his body. The walls he’d held up for so long had come crashing down. It finally felt like the air wasn’t as thick anymore. Maybe this was what he’d needed.
They had moved from the living room to the kitchen, for Hope insisted that coffee would be a promising idea. Although, Ethan would have rather ran for the hills. He sat across the table from her, wishing he could give her the world…but he couldn’t even give himself a clear conscious.
“Ethan.” Hope took his hand in hers and she gave it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of her fingers went straight to Ethan’s core. “You do understand that drinking isn’t helping this matter and it never will, right?” Her intriguing green eyes met his.
“I know.” He rested his elbows on the kitchen table and placed his head between his hands. The realization had been there from the moment he had taken the first sip of alcohol. It was a mistake from the beginning, yet the alcohol consumed him more and more, and Ethan simply welcomed it right into his life’s door.
Hope sipped on what Ethan believed was her fourth cup of mainly creamer, with a little dash of coffee. “Your birth father made bad decisions Ethan, but that doesn’t mean that you have to follow in his footsteps. Think of Nathaniel—the loving stepdad—all the joy he had. You said yourself he didn’t have a sip of alcohol. He also had God by his side. Look back at how happy your family was then. Don’t you realize that God was the reason behind it?”
Ethan made no comment. His heart felt like his cold, empty coffee mug. He knew the truth, but he was frozen in his own selfishness.
“God is faithful and just. When we put our trust in Him, He stills our hearts and thoughts. Because He has been faithful throughout history, we can trust Him in times of trouble. That’s what your family did after Peter. You guys trusted in God. Why not trust Him again for this battle?”
That was the thing, he wasn’t ready to trust again. What if God let him down again? It wasn’t a commitment Ethan was willing to make when he didn’t know of the unknown. “He’s let me down so many times. If God were real, wouldn’t you think there’d be some extent of mercy? Why does it feel like He abandoned me?” It felt like a pitiful excuse, but his questions were sincere.
“I don’t mean to sound cold Ethan, but God didn’t walk out on you. You walked out on Him.” The truth slapped him in the face, but Hope kept a sympathetic smile on her face, showing that she wasn’t meaning to hurt him. “As hard as it is to swallow that tough pill, we have to accept that sometimes terrible things will happen in life. But God can mold the bad into good. That’s what He did when He sent your family Nathaniel. Don’t you want believe in some sort of hope this time?”
“I’m hopeless,” he replied as he sulked back into his chair.
Hope straightened her back and crooked her neck. Her eyes seemed to flicker an emotion. Maybe concern? “Why do you think that?”
“I’ve lost all of my parents, my dignity, my reputation. A few family members in other states don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. Alcohol has chewed me up and spit me out,” he rambled. “I’m hopeless.” For some reason, it wasn’t hard for Ethan to pour out what was continually running through his mind to Hope.
He watched as Hope took her mug to the sink and rinsed it. “Ethan, you are most definitely not hopeless. Before Saul was converted to Paul, he was a wicked man. He even tortured and killed Christians. But later, Saul had a change of heart. He accepted Jesus into his heart. Saul turned opposite from his ways, was changed to Paul and he didn’t dare look back, because there was nothing there for him in the past. That story provides a hope for us that when it feels like we’ve gone too far for any way out, God provides a way of escape. He molds us into the person He wants us to be. Job 11:15 shows there is hope.”
Ethan remained silent, not knowing how to reply to a girl who clearly made her case. He remembered the story of Paul. Paul was a great man, with an evil past. It was something Ethan could relate to.
“Hear me out. Why not start by getting rid of the temptation…by simply not buying the alcohol anymore?” Hope suggested. “And for every time you pass a bar whilst driving and can feel the desire burning in your throat, speed up and pass it by. My brother’s a cop, I’ll be sure to wave the tickets. It’s for a worthy cause.”
Ethan snorted. He was thankful for her subtle humor. The suggestion wasn’t bad, but his heart wrestled with his mind. Could he really attempt to give up what felt so good? His head told him no, while his heart told him to give it a try. He had to at least start with not allowing the temptation within his household. “Help me pour the rest of my bottles down the drain.” He settled the decision before he had more time to contemplate.
Ethan watched a smile tug at the corners of Hope’s mouth. “I’m proud of you Ethan.”
He began to grab numerous bottles and cans from his fridge. “You’ve been good for me Hope. I really appreciate you.” Ethan’s head began to thump as morning dawned. He glanced at the clock on the stove, 5:15 A.M. Hope was going to have to leave shortly to get the bakery ready to open.
A smile grew on Hope’s face as she gladly poured the liquid down the sink drain. “Although you may not realize it, you’re a good friend, Ethan. I really wish you’d consider your thoughts on God again, though. I don’t mean to pry at you, but Jesus has given me a peace and hope that I can’t receive anywhere else in this world. I’m here to share and inspire others with His love. Without any of that, my life itself would be depressing.” She grabbed a whiskey bottle to pour next.
She was concerned about him, maybe too concerned, but Ethan let her continue. “I’ll end the discussion of the matter with this: I want you to read the book of Job and then tell me what you think. Just read it and think about it. That’s all I ask.”
It wasn’t a bad request, but that meant he would be cracking open a Bible again and pondering on it. Did he really want to risk doing that? “I’ll do it.” He abruptly promised her.
“I think it’ll help your perspective,” she responded with a confident smile.
They finished pouring out the last of the alcohol. To Ethan, it symbolized him putting away the foolish things. Putting this addiction behind him. This time he needed to fix himself. Ethan grabbed a garbage bag from underneath the sink and Hope stuffed the empty cans and bottles in the durable black bag.
“Are you free the Friday after Thanksgiving?” Hope sp
oke after cleaning up the counters in his kitchen.
“I’m free pretty much every day.” He shrugged, leaning against the counter.
“Good, because after I’m done shopping my heart out with the girls, you and I are going Christmas tree shopping. Your house is screaming for some Christmas Spirit.” She narrowed her brows.
“Bah. Humbug!” Ethan snarled his nose, knowing that this time of year just wasn’t the same without his parents. They were the ones who made it special in the first place.
“Don’t be such a Scrooge.” Hope ruffled his hair. “Now, I’ve got thirty minutes until I need to leave to get the bakery opened up. You’re about to get grilled with more questions. I must get to know you better.” She held her nose in the air as she attempted to speak like a fancy British woman.
Ethan chuckled, watching Hope find the tea bags tucked away in a cabinet, making herself at home. When was the last time he’d felt wanted? The last time he’d genuinely communicated to a friend? He couldn’t recall the last time. But a warm feeling settled in his heart, telling him he’d never feel alone again.
nine
H e ate ramen noodles with siracha sauce. Ethan wasn’t picky about movie selections, unless it was sci-fi…he made his point about hating sci-fi movies. His favorite color was green, and he loved when he used to coach the high school soccer team. Hope made a mental note to talk to the high school or middle school staff about possibly working him in as a coach or an assistant for the upcoming season of spring soccer. Owning a bakery had its perks; she knew who she needed to speak with about getting Ethan a position. He needed something to do with his time.
Not only had Ethan opened up this morning, but he’d welcomed her into his shattered life. It encouraged Hope’s heart because maybe, just maybe, this was the first step that would lead him to God.
He was abused. Hope shuddered at the thought. Ethan’s birth father had not been much of a father at all. She couldn’t imagine the fear that rocked him to sleep as a child. It would have been like bugs crawling on her skin. Then to lose the happiness provided by Nathaniel and Kate, it would have turned Hope’s world upside down.
God, everywhere Ethan turns, he’s swallowed up by his unpleasant past. Help him to remember when You provided for him in the past. Help him to recall the good memories. He’s trying to recover, he really is, but I’m afraid without You he’ll eventually give back into the temptations. He needs You in order to put his abusive father in the past. He needs You to put the horrific way his stepdad and mom died in the past. Help him to realize that You extend a brighter future in the palm of Your hand.
She would pray for him and would continue to be there by his side. It was Hope’s first instinct, and Ethan needed it.
Hope tried to focus back on her task at hand. She hummed as she piped buttery vanilla frosting onto a birthday cake for a three-year old. It was Wednesday, her last day in the bakery for the rest of the week. Containing her excitement for the weekend wasn’t possible. Thursday would be Thanksgiving, which would mean eating loads of turkey with stuffing, and pumpkin pie cupcakes, of course. Friday would be shopping till she dropped with her mom, sister, and Sara. Then that evening she would go Christmas tree shopping with Ethan.
Contradictory to the café, where many orders were taking place at the counter, the kitchen was rather calm today. Everyone seemed to be working intently at their stations with their designated jobs for the day. In the corner of the rather large kitchen, two gigantic stainless-steel refrigerators were filled with desserts to either be delivered or picked up. Stacked convection ovens were directly across from the fridges, the aroma of pumpkin spice emanating from them.
“I’m going to get my hands on those Christian Louboutin shoes if I have to ride a battery-operated wheelchair and move people out of my way.” Brianna perched herself on a counter, flipping through the Black Friday catalog.
“I recall someone sprinting to Ulta for a makeup palette on sale last year. It was the fastest I’d ever seen you run. You’ll be just as fast on foot.” Hope laughed at the memory of her sister rushing around in Ulta.
“In my defense, the palette was originally sixty bucks and I got it for sixteen dollars instead. I got a good deal.” Brianna shrugged, her blonde ponytail whooshing behind her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be baking pumpkin pies?” Hope’s sister had the attention span of a squirrel.
“They’re in the oven, thank you very much.” Bri spoke matter-of-factly.
“In that case, I’m looking for a Kitchen-Aid mixer for my apartment. It’s on sale, and it’s pastel.” Hope set her empty piping bag down and started in with the sprinkles.
“Right up your alley.” The timer went off, and Bri hopped off the counter to get the pies out of the oven.
“The pumpkin cream cheese cupcake order has been taken care of!” One of the new employees, Jade, walked past Hope with a box of freshly made cupcakes.
“Bless you. They smell delicious!” Hope blew her a kiss.
Jade pretended to catch it and she giggled.
Hiring more people for Funfetti Café and Bakery had been the best decision Hope made for her bakery. Like separate ingredients in a recipe, the expanded group combined each of their talents and worked efficiently together, creating a glorious product. Things were getting accomplished faster, and Hope was finding herself with more time to breathe.
Hope dusted her hands off on her apron. “What do you think, Bri?” She took a step back to survey the cake.
Bri maneuvered her way from the fridge where she was putting pumpkin pies inside to cool. She squealed when she stopped at Hope’s work station. “Hope, it’s so cute! I love the watercolor base. It makes the whipped icing around the top of the cake stand out.”
“Good.” Hope nodded her head. Her sister’s approval was always important to her.
As Hope placed the cake in a box and headed toward the fridge, the door separating the kitchen from the café swung open.
Laney, the young cashier on duty, entered with a smile that could melt a guy’s heart. “Hope, there’s a man out here asking for you.” She tossed her slick, black hair off her shoulder.
“I wonder who that could be?” Bri hummed sarcastically.
If Hope hadn’t been surrounded by a crowd, she would have wacked her sister. “Box my cake up and put it in the fridge.” She opted for throwing a dish towel at Brianna instead. “Oh and…hush up.” Hope heard Bri giggle as she walked away.
Hope could place a bet on who was asking for her, but betting wasn’t very ladylike or Christian-like. She washed her hands in the deep metal sink by the door, then entered the café.
The tall and wide floor to ceiling windows left perfect natural lighting to flood the entire café full of white, pastel pink, and mint paint. Outside, fluffy snow fell gently from the sky, creating a picture-perfect moment, especially with the cute Edison lights strung from the ceiling.
Winter was coming.
People sat in booths, chattering amongst one another whilst sipping on hot coffee. Lines zig-zagged from the counter to the front door. Afternoons were their busiest time of day, but no one seemed to be annoyed or frustrated by the fact that the café was bustling. Everyone wore smiles upon their faces. That was the wonderful thing about Alton, everyone seemed to know everybody. The town was not too big, yet not too small. She was welcomed by many as she maneuvered her way through the crowd of people. Hope smiled as she found the person she figured she was looking for.
“You’re becoming quite famous around Illinois.” Ethan grinned.
He looked good this morning. He was dressed in a cashmere sweater that Hope would’ve loved to cuddle up to. His natural, wavy brown hair was swept back, and his eyes were glistening. He wore a smile that looked like it didn’t have to be forced. Hope could fall in love with this Ethan and his cute dimples.
Where did that come from?
She shook herself from her thoughts. “I don’t like the word famous.” Hope walked around the coun
ter of displayed desserts to meet him in a booth.
He had switched to a new spot.
She smiled at the miniscule things, for it was clear that Ethan was gradually changing.
“Hmm. Then…” He searched for an innovative word. “Well-known.”
“Better.” Hope chuckled. “What can I get you this afternoon, Ethan?”
“Well, Sara and I are doing Thanksgiving this year, and I’m in charge of dessert and stuffing. I’ve got the stuffing under control, but I need some desperate help with dessert.” The petrified look painted on his face caused Hope to bite her lip in attempt to suppress a chuckle.
“So, you’re a homemade stuffing kind of guy, but you can’t make a pumpkin pie?”
“If you consider Stove Top homemade, then yes.” He grinned smugly.
Laughter erupted from Hope’s belly. “What kind of dessert do you want?”
“Please no pumpkin pie. I’ve heard so much about it that I’m already sick of it.” He took a sip from his coffee cup.
“I’ll make a mental note of that.” She glanced out the window, trying to think of a different dessert. Fluffier white flakes were falling from the grey sky now. “What about an apple streusel bread? I haven’t made it in a while. It’s not even on the menu right now, and apples are an appropriate alternative.”
“Anything sounds better than pumpkin at the moment,” he agreed, nodding.
She picked at her sweater sleeve as silence weaved its way into their conversation. She knew what she wanted to ask him but was afraid of his answer. Was now the right time? When would be the “right” time? Hope mentally rolled her eyes at herself as she braced herself to ask what God had put on her heart.