Missy Tippens - A House Full of Hope

“And what about his well-being? Did you inquire about that, too?” she sniped before she could stop herself. She held up her hand to hold off an answer. She didn’t even want to know. Didn’t want to spend another minute dealing with this man. “Again, I’m not authorized to divulge account information.”

Mark’s jaw twitched as if he were grinding his teeth back and forth. “Thank you for your time.”

She took his outstretched hand and forced herself to look into his face—his too-handsome face, a scar near the left eyebrow the only thing marring its perfection. She hated to continue the conversation but needed to know his plans so she could make sure to avoid him.

“Will you be staying with your dad while you’re visiting?”

She thought for a minute that he might laugh, but then she realized it was a grimace. “No. I guess I’ll need you to point me to a hotel.”

From the look of him, he liked nice things. He might not appreciate their little motel over by the lake. “The Cardinal Motel is still here. Or the Gunters opened a new B and B not far from your dad’s house.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hughes. I’ll try the B and B.” He stared at her a moment. “You look familiar. Is Hughes your married name?”

“Yes.” Part of her wanted to ignore the questions and hurry out of her office. But another part wanted to tell him her maiden name. To see if he even remembered ruining her sister’s life.

She chose the latter. “I’m Hannah Williams Hughes.”

He sucked in a breath, then quickly closed his mouth.

Oh, yes. He definitely remembered. Not that his remembering could change a thing for Sydney.

Stunned, Mark stared at Hannah Williams. He couldn’t believe God had led him back to Corinthia to make amends, then tossed a Williams into the mix the moment he hit town.

Dealing with Hannah would make his job that much more difficult. “Good to see you again, Hannah.” A rote reply, even though he’d rather be anywhere but talking to Sydney’s sister.

She didn’t return the sentiment. She simply brushed past him and walked out of her office. “I’ll see you to the door.”

He followed as she marched across the high-ceilinged lobby, the click of her high heels echoing off all the marble. She was trim, but the boxy skirt and fitted jacket couldn’t hide her curvy figure. How could he have not recognized her vivid green eyes?

She’d been a pesky middle-schooler when he’d dated Sydney. Had worn dark-framed glasses back then and had been serious, studious. She used to stare at him—until he’d finally asked her why. She’d blushed and claimed she wasn’t staring. After that, she didn’t hang around often. Acted scared of him.

Which was smart. All girls should have stayed away from him at the time.

At the front of the lobby, she held the door open for him. Her expression, cool and closed, said his actions had not been forgiven or forgotten over the past fifteen years. Apparently, his father wasn’t the only one holding a grudge. He would need to make amends with the Williams family, as well. A daunting task.

But obviously, God expected it.

“The B and B is a couple of miles out, on the left, heading to your dad’s house. Is there anything else you need?” Hannah asked from her post as bank bouncer, her tone dismissive.

If only he could just thank her and head out the door, straight back to Seattle. You can do this with God’s help. “No, thanks.”

Hannah, as pretty as she was, glared at him, her anger evident. “Enjoy the visit with your dad.”

He gave her a smile that used every last ounce of energy, then slipped his sunglasses back into place.

An ache tore through his chest as he concealed his Ryker eyes. It would be best to remain anonymous since everyone else in town would probably feel the same way Hannah did. The way his dad did.

Redd would never welcome him back. Would never forgive him for all the hurt he’d caused when he left town. Lord, help me to make amends while I’m here. And if it’s not too much to ask, please enable those I’ve hurt to forgive me.

Even if Mark could somehow prove God had changed him, that he’d grown up to make something of his life, he knew he was after the impossible. Because the fact still remained: Mark was responsible for his twin brother’s death. His dad would never forgive him for that.

Chapter Two

That evening, Hannah drove to pick up her four children at her mother’s duplex apartment not far from the bank. Their daily stampede to the front door to greet her never failed to lighten the stress of the day. Even the stress of facing Mark Ryker. They’re such a joy, Lord. Thank You.

Donna eyed her from head to toe, as if taking inventory. “Hello, Hannah. Rough day?”

Obviously, she looked harried. “A little.”

Without a hair out of place, Donna directed the kids to gather their belongings, which sat neatly packed by the front door. Always a bundle of energy, she didn’t look like a woman who’d watched a house full of kids for nine hours. Even her hazel eyes seemed bright, not tired. The woman was amazing. Only the streaks of silver at her temples and scattered through her brown hair gave away the fact that she was a grandmother.

“Come on, kids. I imagine you’re hungry.”

Donna smoothed Tony’s hair. “You know good and well their nana wouldn’t let them leave hungry.”

“We had a snack,” the twins called in unison.

She thanked her mother for babysitting and hurried them to the car. She made sure all four were buckled in her minivan and then she drove toward home.

“There’s our old house,” Becca said, same as she did every day, as they approached the apartment complex they’d called home for the past seven years.

Hannah looked in the rearview mirror and discovered Becca, with her dark pigtails and pink-framed glasses, staring out the window. “Yes. Do you miss it?”

“I do,” Tony said. Her child who didn’t like change. Who hadn’t wanted to move so far from his nana.

“Not me,” Becca said. “I like having my own room.”

She slowed as they passed. So many memories at that apartment, good and bad…

Memories of Anthony and her moving in when Becca was a toddler and Tony was a baby. Tony taking his first steps across the kitchen floor. The surprise of another pregnancy. Bringing home the twins to a too-small apartment. Struggling through those early days with no sleep and tons of bottles and diapers. Trying to make sure Tony and Becca got enough attention while taking care of newborns. Watching her husband, Anthony, drag in the door each evening, worn-out from working overtime to support their expanding family.

Anthony getting more and more tired. To the point he could hardly work. Then those life-altering words from her husband’s mouth: “I have cancer.”

That simple sentence reverberated through her mind as if he’d uttered it just yesterday. Hannah stifled a sob and beat back the grief that clawed and left her raw inside. Grief that could suck her under its dark, smothering weight if she let it. No time right now. Too much to do.

She closed the door on the painful memories and forced herself to look ahead. She had four beautiful children who were her world. And she had finally provided them the spacious house she and Anthony had always wanted for them.

Lots of space to run and play. Five bedrooms—one each. A huge kitchen with a table big enough to hold everyone plus friends and family. A room with lots of shelf space, the perfect library for nine-year-old Becca and her precious books. A barn and woods for seven-year-old Tony to explore. And a brand-new swing set she’d bought on layaway for six-year-old Emily and Eric.

She turned to look at four smiling faces in the back of the van. Sweet faces that never failed to lift her spirits. Their unconditional love was the only thing that had kept her going the past two years, that had given her the strength to start this new phase of their lives. “Well, our new home is working out well.”