Missy Tippens - A House Full of Hope

But being a single working mom made that difficult. She struggled to make time for each one. Had dropped her volunteer position with the church youth group. Made Sundays family time.

“Don’t peek,” Tony called from somewhere behind her.

“Nine and a half. Ten! Ready or not, here I come.” She opened her eyes just as Emily’s head disappeared behind the rocking chair on the porch.

She grinned as she started rattling bushes and jumping behind trees. “Where is everyone?”

A giggle sounded at the side of the house. Within five minutes, she had found everyone, saving Emily for last.

Redd, who’d started closing Hometown Hardware on Sundays a few years earlier, gave a wave as he lumbered across the yard, his uneven gait making him rock side to side. His graying hair had once been dark blond like Mark’s. And he’d probably been as handsome as his son in his younger days. But his wife’s death six years ago had aged him. Deep wrinkles formed brackets around his mouth and frown lines between his eyes. The smile that lit his face when he saw the kids gave Hannah an inkling of what he’d looked like years before.

When Emily spotted him, she squealed and ran to hug him, dark hair flying in the wind. Eric followed closely and grabbed on to Redd’s other leg.

He hobbled across the yard, pulling giggling kids along with him. “Well, now, I seem to feel a bit heavy today. Must’ve eaten too much lunch.”

Becca, in her standard pink T-shirt and denim shorts, grabbed her belly and doubled over, laughing. “Mr. Redd is so silly.”

Tony, usually reserved, actually smiled. “He’s teasing, Becca.”

Her children loved Redd. And the man seemed to enjoy them, as well. In the beginning, she hadn’t been too sure about their extremely close neighbor relationship. With the Ryker-Williams family history, she’d worried how he might feel about them being there. But from the beginning, he’d been solicitous, almost as if he still felt guilty for his son’s actions.

Admittedly, she’d felt awkward at first. But she’d come around to the fact that Redd had been as hurt by Mark as her family had.

“Okay, you two. Don’t hurt his hip. Let go of Mr. Redd so we can talk.”

The twins pouted—for about five seconds. Then they raced off, calling Becca and Tony to come play another round of hide-and-seek.

Redd looked off into the distance, but his eyes didn’t seem to focus on anything in particular. “I guess you’ve seen that Mark has returned to town.”

Her stomach dropped at the mention of his name. What if Mark had talked him into moving back in the family home? “Yes.”

“I’d rather him not know I’m renting out the house, if there’s any way around it.”

“I’m afraid he came by yesterday.”

He ran a hand over his chin, rasping against whiskers, looking troubled.

She gently touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

His chin rose as he watched the kids. “I’m fine.” Then he looked into her eyes. “You?”

He tried to act cool on the outside, yet he had to be a mess on the inside. Meanwhile she stewed, worried and angry. “I’m okay. Shocked, but okay.”

“Still can’t figure out what he’s doing here. Says he wanted to come apologize. But now he’s hanging around.”

Yes, it was unnerving, to say the least. And she felt sure he’d stayed to try to uproot her and the kids so his dad could move back into the house.

“He seems to be concerned that you’re in the garage apartment.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and watched him closely for his response.

He shook his head and huffed. “I’m fine over there. Don’t worry about me.”

Yes, but could Mark change his mind? “Well, I guess we can hope Mark’s motives are pure.”

Redd gave a snort but didn’t comment further. “I sure hope your sister doesn’t find out he’s back, even if it is just for a visit.”

Goodness. Hannah had thought so much about her own situation with the kids and the house that she hadn’t considered Sydney hearing about Mark being in town. “Yeah, me, too. She’s still got a few more weeks in rehab.”

Regret crawled across Redd’s ragged features, drawing his mouth into a frown. He shook his head and plodded toward the garage, hands in his pockets, head down. As if carrying a huge weight. He stopped partway across the yard.

“I know the kids in the youth group miss you, but you made a good choice to spend Sundays with your little ones. They grow up too fast.” Regret tinged his voice, and his pain jabbed her heart.

“You’re right,” she said, wishing she could say something more, something to comfort him.

He’d lost one son. And, really, the other, as well.

Now Mark was here trying to butt into his dad’s life. The man might end up hurt all over again.

“Mom, I’m hungry,” Tony called. “Is it time to eat yet?”

“Not yet, sweetie. But why don’t you come inside and help me decide what to cook?”

Maybe if she finished unpacking, she wouldn’t feel so unsettled, so worried about losing the house. She would finish the last boxes that night, even if she had to stay up to the wee hours.

Mark had the money in hand by noon on Monday. When he arrived at the church, he climbed out of the air-conditioned car. The muggy afternoon air nearly sucked the breath out of him. He’d forgotten how miserable it could get in early June in Georgia.

Carrying an envelope of cash left him unsettled. After years of living on the streets, he’d become hyperalert. Cautious. Now he caught himself glancing around, waiting for someone to jump him.

He laughed it off and flagged down Phil as he spotted him walking through the parking lot.

“Oh, hi, Mark. Is that the money for your dad?”

“It is.”

Phil nodded toward the bank, which sat across from the old brick courthouse with its newly refurbished white cupola. “Come on, walk part of the way with me.”

As they crossed the street, Mark said, “Did a little research at the courthouse this morning. Dad owes back taxes. This will cover that debt, plus the larger home repairs.” He handed over the envelope.

A flash of concern drew Phil’s brows together. “You know, Mark, I’m all for doing good. But I hope Redd won’t be angry when he discovers the deposit.”

“Surely an anonymous donation will save his pride.”

“We’ll see soon enough.” He gave Mark’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll have the receipt anytime you want to come pick it up.” He nodded toward Faith’s Coffee Time Café. “Miss Ann Sealy often spends her mornings over there with her Bible, visiting with friends…if you think you could use a friendly face.”

As the pastor walked inside the bank, Mark decided Phil was very insightful. He did need a cup of coffee and a friendly face even more.

Movement flickered in his peripheral vision as he turned toward the coffee shop.

A little dark-haired girl stood on the sidewalk, craning her neck back, looking up at him. “Hello.”

“You’re Hannah’s daughter.”

She pushed her pink glasses higher up her nose, and stared at him with earnest brown eyes. “Yes. And you’re the man who was lost.”

He bit back a grin. No point in trying to convince her otherwise. “I guess I am.” He forced a serious look on his face. “So what are you doing today?”

“I’m bored, so I’m walking to the library.” Her pigtails swung in her face as she took off a backpack, unzipped it and pulled out a card. With a wide grin, she proudly held it up for him to see. “I have my own library card.”

“Impressive.”

She stuffed it back inside. “Where are you going?”

“To get coffee. Are you with your mom?” He glanced around, hoping Hannah was with the girl so she wouldn’t find out about the deposit.