Missy Tippens - A Family for Faith

“Yes. And I’m afraid he’s not going to let you go to the party.”

Chelsea sank back in her chair, her face forlorn. “Oh, man. If you can’t talk him into it, I know I can’t. He’s so stubborn. And miserable. I just wish he had something to do besides worry about me.”

Ann flipped her notebook open. “I’ll add your dad to my prayer list, too.”

“Thanks. Pray that he’ll finally be happy. It’s hard to see him when he gets down, especially at home.”

The three of them sat at the table digesting her statement. Faith found herself praying for happiness for Gabe and his daughter. For healing from the grief of loss of such a wonderful wife and mother.

Chelsea sucked in a breath. “You know, I have something else for you to pray about.” She had a little gleam in her eye. “Ever since Sunday night, I’ve been thinking Dad needs something to occupy his time. So—” she signaled for the two of them to lean in closer “—I want y’all to find a bunch of people to be praying for him…to find a girlfriend.”

Gabe would be mortified. “Not on the church-wide prayer chain, Chelsea,” Faith said.

Ann chuckled. “You sure are a sneaky one, child.”

“His whole life is this town and me—specifically keeping me his overly safe little girl. I want him to have some fun.”

Faith wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Surely it was a good plan. He did need some outside interests. But a girlfriend? On the prayer chain?

She should be all for this. So why did the idea grate against her nerves?

“What do you think, Faith?” Chelsea asked.

“You know your dad won’t go along with this. When would he have time to go out?”

“That’s the point. He needs to make time. To be forced to make time.” She grinned at the perfection of her plan.

“How about I add it to my personal prayer list and ask a couple of friends to join in praying?” Ann said as she picked up her cane and slowly got up. “This’ll be fun.”

Faith wasn’t so enthused. All she could think about as she waved goodbye to Ann was that Gabe would be angry. And she would be miserable.

But why would watching Gabe go out and have fun make her miserable? Did she feel more than a neighborly connection? More than friendship?

No. That was impossible.

“I need your help,” Chelsea said, drawing her away from her thoughts.

Faith frowned. “What?”

“We’re going to find him a nice woman. Fix him up.”

“We are?”

“Yep. And I have an idea for the first one. You!”

“Me?” she asked, entirely too loudly.

“You two have a lot in common—your yards…coffee…church.”

“But he doesn’t even go to church.” Okay, so that was a low blow. The poor man found it difficult to attend without the love of his life. “Besides, we’re just friends.”

Chelsea shrugged. “Oh. Okay. Well, what about Hannah, from church? We just need to figure out how to get her to ask him out.”

Faith’s head nearly spun. She hadn’t thought of Hannah. But she was perfect for Gabe—and perfect for Chelsea. Hannah was a widowed single mom, a really good mom, always active in her children’s lives. A model Christian woman. Gorgeous. “She would be a good choice.”

“You know her, don’t you?”

“She works at the bank, and I’ve catered some events for them.”

“Perfect! Call her. Tell her to ask Dad out.” Chelsea’s grin nearly lit the room.

Surely Gabe was going to kill her for this. Then again, he might end up blissfully in love and would thank her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you, Faith! Dad will be so much happier. And I’ll be able to live my own life without him worrying about every breath I take.”

Faith’s stomach seized into a knot. And she could now worry over why she was so resistant to playing matchmaker for her neighbor.

That evening as Gabe took a stroll down Main Street, checking to make sure business owners had closed up tight, he passed two ladies he knew from church walking down the street toward the high school—probably headed for the walking track.

“Evenin’, ladies.”

“Evenin’, Chief,” Kendra said, then giggled as if she’d said the funniest thing on earth.

“Got a hot date tonight?” Jeannie asked.

Jeannie wasn’t usually someone who teased like that. “Uh…no, ma’am.”

“That’s okay. Give it some time.”

The two laughed as they walked on past.

Strange.

He finished his rounds and headed home. When he walked in the kitchen, Chelsea was setting the table for dinner. Faith was washing pots and pans. Seeing her with her hands in the dish bubbles at his sink brought him up short as a jolt of longing shot through him. A good, I-like-this-scenario jolt.

For a split second, his life felt normal. A brief respite in a rocky five years.

He shook it off and focused on his daughter. The huge grin Chelsea gave him made him want to look over his shoulder to see if the comical Kendra and Jeannie were outside making faces.

“What’s up?” he asked them.

“We started dinner,” Faith said with her back to him, wiping a dish towel over the outside of a frying pan.

“You have a phone message. I left it on your desk,” Chelsea said, and the grin somehow managed to broaden.

He narrowed his eyes. “You sure are cheerful.”

“Oh, I’m just excited about the party this Friday.”

“Party?”

“Daaaad. You know this info. Faith said she told you.”

“Oh, that party. Well, you aren’t going to any parties with boys.”

“I think you’ll change your mind.” She gave him the happiest, most hopeful grin and batted huge, puppy-dog eyes. Must be some new manipulative tool she’d picked up.

“Chels—”

“Pleeeease…You have to let me. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise. I just have to go or I’ll be a total outcast.”

Talk about exaggeration. “You’re impossible.” He glanced at Faith, who seemed awfully busy drying the already-dry skillet. “Faith, you sure are giving that pan a work over.”

“What? Oh.” She looked a million miles away. She pulled her gaze away and placed the skillet in the cabinet. “Time to go home.”

He’d thought maybe she felt guilty about encouraging Chelsea over the party. But now he realized she hadn’t even been listening to them. She seemed distracted.

After Faith told Chelsea good-night, she headed out the back door to make the short walk next door.

He followed her to the porch and leaned against the railing. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She finally looked directly at him. The glow from the setting sun made her eyes look bluer than usual. Such a pretty color.

She puffed out air that blew her bangs off her face. Then she messed with her ponytail. “I’m just out of sorts. Don’t know why.”

“I guess Chelsea and I have put an extra burden on you the last few days. I’m sorry.”

Her brows drew downward. “No, it’s not that at all.”

“Then tell me.” He motioned for her to sit on the steps beside him.

She started to join him, but then she popped back up. “No, really. It’s nothing. I’ve got to go. And you need to go return Hannah’s call.” She gave him a crooked smile, then walked away. “Good night.”

Hannah? Now why would she be calling?

Must be something to do with security at the bank.

He walked inside to his desk, picked up the sticky note with Chelsea’s loopy handwriting, then dialed the phone number she’d carefully written with a huge smiley face beside it.

“Hi, Hannah. Chelsea said you called.”

“Oh, hi, Gabe. Thanks for calling back. I, uh…well, this is awkward…but I was…uh…wondering, well…”

“Is something wrong?”