Missy Tippens - A Family for Faith

“Chelsea has been invited to a party. Her first girl-boy party.” She held her breath. Waiting.

He paused for a heartbeat. “No way is she doing that.” He frowned for another few seconds, then he relaxed back in his chair. “She’s been like a roller coaster all summer. Emotions all over the place. Maybe this liking-boys phase will pass.”

“Well, I think she may be hitting the time when she’ll start liking them more often than not. Especially when it involves Parker Pruitt.”

The frown reformed. “I suppose she does like him. And he’ll be at this party?”

Faith wasn’t so sure this conversation was going to help Chelsea at all. “She thinks so.”

“Chels is not going to any parties.”

Faith recognized that determined look on his face. She was fairly certain she’d worn it herself at some point with Ben. “I totally understand. I tried the same with Ben, but it backfired.”

“How can doing what needs to be done—the right thing—backfire?”

She didn’t know how she could explain without revealing how she’d failed with her son. “I told you, I think being overprotective can be a mistake. So please don’t nix the idea without talking to Valerie’s parents first. The girl’s mother seems very responsible.”

He shook his head as he got up from the table, pretty much dismissing her and her ideas.

She followed suit, grabbed her purse off the counter, then opened the door. “I guess I need to get back to the café to finish up.”

“Thanks for helping out tonight.”

She hadn’t come willingly, had done so out of a sense of guilt. But if she were honest, she would acknowledge she’d actually enjoyed herself. “No problem.”

He nodded his goodbye. “She’ll change her mind about the party, you know. She’s not entirely ready to be a teenager. I see glimpses of my little girl all the time.”

“Yeah. Maybe so.” Faith hated to rain on his parade. But she suspected this time he was in for a surprise.

Late the next morning, Faith left the café and made a quick run to the bank. When she returned through the back door, the dark, rich aroma of coffee greeted her. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of the smell, and in some ways, the café felt more like home than her house did. Maybe because the little bit of a social life she enjoyed revolved around work.

And also around church. Although, she often still felt like an outsider. Unless you were born and raised in Corinthia, you weren’t truly part of that inner circle that got invited over for birthday parties or Sunday dinner or spur-of-the-moment get-togethers.

She called into the dining room to let Natalie know she had returned. While she washed her hands and put on her apron, she heard Miss Ann’s distinctive voice—rather high-pitched and raspy. And very, very Southern.

Miss Ann was a church icon. Whenever townspeople had a problem, they went straight to her for prayer and guidance. And though the woman had lost a lot in her lifetime, she always radiated joy. Always had a kind word. Always wore a smile.

Faith hurried out from the kitchen with an important request in mind. “Hey, Miss Ann.”

“I was just praying for you, Faith. Always do whenever I’m near the café.”

She patted Ann’s shoulder. “And I’m honored that’s just about daily.”

Ann smiled with rheumy blue eyes the color of an October sky as she held up her mug of hot chocolate—with skim milk and marshmallows—in a mock toast. “Couldn’t make it without my daily dose of chocolate.”

“Thank you for the prayers. And I have a request for you.” Faith pulled out a chair and joined Ann at the small, square table she came to each morning to read her Bible. The carnations in the vase looked a bit ragged, so Faith picked off a browning leaf, straightened them and made a mental note to replace them a day early.

“What is it, dear?”

It wasn’t easy to open up and share her worries. But she needed the prayer support, so she took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I’ve sort of been thrown into Gabe Reynolds’s life the last day or so. I’m trying to help him out a bit with Chelsea.”

A grin spread across Ann’s face. “You don’t say.”

“I feel torn. I’d like to help, but I’m so busy here, getting ready for Ben’s visit, training Natalie to take over during my vacation. And dealing with a middle schooler…” She hadn’t told Ann any more than she’d told anyone else in town, but she hoped the woman would understand her fear. “Please be praying that it goes well all around.”

“So is he having trouble with Chelsea?”

“Sort of.” She wasn’t sure how much to share about his situation. But Ann seemed to be discreet and trustworthy. “Chelsea’s growing up. And he’s resisting it.”

Ann shut her eyes as she grabbed Faith’s hand and held tight with a surprisingly strong grip. She said a short but powerful prayer for Chelsea and Gabe, then she squeezed and let go.

“Thanks, Ann. I guess I better go restock for the afternoon crowd and let you get back to the Scriptures.”

As Faith added cookies and muffins to the display case, brought out fresh bags of coffee and refilled the napkin holders, the breakfast crowd dwindled. All except for Ann, who continued to read.

All morning long, every time the door opened, Faith jumped to attention, wondering if it might be Gabe, bringing Chelsea.

At around eleven, they finally walked in. To Faith’s dismay, at the sight of Gabe her heart raced and her face burned, scalding her from the inside out. She turned her back to try to gather her wits as she called out, “Welcome. You want your regular, Chief Reynolds?”

“Sure. And a hot chocolate for Chelsea, please.” His deep, resonant voice filled the café and seemed to close the distance between them.

“Whipped cream, Chelsea?”

“Yes, please. Oh, hi, Miss Ann!” Chelsea dashed across the dining room and joined Ann at her table.

“Mornin’, Miss Ann,” Gabe called. He walked toward Faith. As she poured him a cup of coffee and added one packet of sugar, he leaned his thick muscular forearms on the counter and watched her, his intense coffee-colored eyes following her every move.

Why did he always do that? And why did it seem to matter to her more today than it had before?

Another blush wormed its way along her neck and up to her cheeks. Steaming hot coffee didn’t help matters any. “Here you go.” Once she handed over the cup, she reached under the glass cake stand with a pair of tongs and grabbed several doughnut holes.

He always accepted a bag full even though he complained it would ruin his appetite.

He pulled out his wallet.

“You are not going to pay me. Don’t try again.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. You mowed my grass last week before I could get to it. This is the least I can do.”

“Just being neighborly. And I still say you’re trying to get me addicted to your homemade doughnuts so my car out front will be like an endorsement.”

She bit back a smile. “Guilty.”

His laugh rang out across the café. “Gotta run. I’ll be back for Chelsea in a couple of hours, if that’ll work.”

“Let her stay as long as she likes. If her friends show up this afternoon she’ll want to hang out. We’ll either call you when she’s ready to go, or I’ll run her home.”

“Thanks, Faith.” He told his daughter and Miss Ann goodbye, then saluted Faith with the bag of doughnut holes as he left.

Once her heart rate returned to normal and her cheeks quit flaming, she carried Chelsea’s hot chocolate over and joined Chelsea and Ann.

Ann had closed her Bible and was listening intently.

The girl jumped up and down in her seat when she saw Faith. “Oh, I’ve been dying to ask. Did you talk to Dad last night?”