Kate James - The Truth About Hope

“How big do you think he’ll get when he’s full grown?” Hope asked as she toweled him off.

Priscilla pursed her lips. “I’m no expert on dogs, but the shape of his face makes me think he’s got some Irish wolfhound in him, but the rest of him looks like Labrador. If he’s mostly Lab, he won’t grow too large. Probably about sixty pounds when he’s full grown.”

“That’s not so big. My father wouldn’t object to me keeping him, if I promise to take care of him and keep him out of his way, would he?”

Before Priscilla could answer, the outside door swung open and Morris strode in, the screen door slamming behind him. He took one look at the two women, the little dog between them, and started to back out.

“Not so fast, Morris!” Priscilla called.

He stopped in his tracks, but kept his hand on the door handle.

The puppy—having aptly demonstrated his displeasure with the entire bathing process—must have seen his opportunity to escape. He squirmed out of Hope’s grasp and charged straight for the doorway, crashing headfirst into the screen. Fortunately, he bounced off it, landing ingloriously on his backside.

Hope rushed forward to make sure he was unharmed, but Morris was quicker. He held the puppy up and stared directly into his eyes. “Way to go, Einstein. I thought we’d learned about screen doors.”

Hope grinned as Morris passed him to her. She studied the pup. “Why don’t we call him Einstein?”

“I know him a little better than you do,” Morris said, “and I can assure you, he’s no genius.”

“That’s the point! He’s exactly the opposite, which is why the name is perfect for him. Hey, Einstein,” Hope said, testing it. When the puppy’s ears perked up in apparent recognition, she dropped a kiss on his now-sweet-smelling, fuzzy snout.

“Einstein it is,” Priscilla concurred. She shifted her gaze to Morris. “Where were we?”

Morris started to back out of the room again.

Priscilla laid a hand on his arm. “Whoa, my friend. Weren’t you supposed to have taken this little guy to the pound?”

“Well...yes,” he replied, looking everywhere except into her eyes.

“And yet here he is,” she said, stating the obvious. Annoyance flashed in her normally calm blue eyes. “He could’ve starved. Or worse, he could’ve wandered out into the road and been hit by a car.”

“No, not really.”

“And why would that be?”

Morris rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, because I was feeding him, and I set up a space in the garage for him. I’m not sure how he managed to get out, since it’s fenced.”

“You always did have a soft heart under that tough exterior, Morris, to go with your soft head!”

Hope grinned widely, watching the interplay between her father’s two employees as she squatted down to finish towel-drying Einstein.

The pup had other ideas. With a series of rapid-fire yips, he barreled as fast as his oversize paws could carry him toward the screen door again. This time he landed spread-eagled on his belly.

Laughing, Hope gathered him back in her arms.

When she approached her father that evening about Einstein, he relented. She could have him, with the understanding that she’d keep “the pesky dog” out of his way.

That wasn’t a problem, as Hope tried to avoid her father as much as possible. From that day onward, she and Einstein were inseparable.

* * *

THREE WEEKS AFTER Hope’s arrival at Glencastle, the first call came. Hope was in her room, going through the frustrating exercise of teaching Einstein basic commands, when Priscilla appeared in her doorway. “You have a call, Hope.”

“I do?”

“He says he knows you from Canyon Creek. His name is Luke.”

“Luke?” Hope glanced at the telephone on her desk. “How did he get this number?”

“I have no idea, but he’s on hold.”

Hope scrambled up and backed away. Einstein, obviously thinking it was a game, gamboled after her and latched on to the bottom of her yoga pants, starting a determined game of tug-of-war. Hope pulled her pant leg loose, picked up the puppy and cuddled him. “I...I can’t.”

Priscilla raised an eyebrow. “He says he needs to talk to you. What would you like me to tell him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. Please just have him hang up.”

Priscilla moved to the phone and lifted the receiver. “No,” she said into the phone. “I’m sorry but she’s—” She sent Hope a final questioning look, but Hope just shook her head emphatically and took a couple more steps back. “She’s not available...No...Is there a message?...I see. Yes. Goodbye.”

Hope placed Einstein on the floor. “What did he say? No. No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” She turned on her heel and rushed into her bedroom, Einstein scampering after her.

Luke’s email arrived later that day. The subject line read: “Urgent.” Hope’s finger hovered over the mouse as she vacillated. Should she open it or not? Fleetingly she wondered if it could be about something more than her having left Canyon Creek, but she dismissed the thought. Eventually, she deleted the email unread and set up her mailbox to send any future emails from Luke directly to spam. It would be better— easier —for both of them if it was a clean break. That way Luke could get on with his life.

The first letter arrived a week later. Priscilla brought her the plain white envelope. Hope didn’t need to see the return address to know it was from Luke. The handwriting was all too familiar. She threw it unopened in her wastebasket.

All future calls went unanswered and all future letters were relegated to the garbage.

CHAPTER FIVE

WITH NOT MUCH to do until school started, Hope was outdoors as much as possible. She couldn’t deny the beauty of San Jose, especially in the area where her father’s house was located. Being outside had the added benefit of making it less likely that she’d bump into her father. Glencastle had stunning grounds, yet he never seemed to venture out. The times they spent together tended to be what she considered command performances. If it wasn’t mealtime—usually dinner—it was either because she’d displeased him in some way and was summoned or because there was some aspect of her future he hadn’t fully resolved and he wished to “discuss” with her.

As summer passed, Hope gravitated more and more to Priscilla and Morris for companionship. The three of them kept their friendship to themselves, and Hope avoided her father’s other employees as much as she could. She sensed that they were different from Priscilla and Morris, and she didn’t want to risk having them report on her.

She assisted Priscilla with her household chores and helped Morris wash and tinker with the cars. Soon after she had arrived, her father had bought her a sporty little Audi, which joined the collection of cars in the enormous garage.

She’d learned that Priscilla was a single mom to an adorable six-year-old named Molly, who was developmentally challenged. Priscilla’s husband had died serving in the armed forces overseas. Priscilla said she was fortunate to have both her mother and her mother-in-law, who shared the responsibility of looking after Molly when she was at work and Molly wasn’t in school.

Hope had met Molly on a couple of occasions when Priscilla had brought her to Glencastle; she was a happy child and sweet natured. It wasn’t a hardship to look after Molly whenever Priscilla needed her to.

With every passing week, Einstein grew. And grew. But he didn’t seem to be losing his clumsiness.

Finally, as summer neared its end, the phone calls from Luke dwindled, as did his letters.

Hope threw her energy into preparing for the start of the school year, with a combination of nerves and excitement. Not just because it would get her out of the house, but she enjoyed learning. After only a brief conversation during that first dinner, it had been decided that she’d attend Los Gatos High School for twelfth grade and then San Jose State University the year after.