“You offered. She said ‘no.’ Hope, you can’t just steamroll people. Sometimes they need help, but they don’t want it.”
Hope turned into him, and he gave her a hug. “You’re the baby of the family. Aren’t you supposed to be the spoiled, irresponsible one?” he teased.
“My big brother would never let me get away with being spoiled or irresponsible,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“No, I guess you turned out all right, thanks to me.”
Hope pulled away from him and punched him on the arm. “Just all right?”
“Better than all right. Let’s go see if those dishes are done. Maybe we can get a game of monopoly going.” Joseph steered her back into the house, and Hope had to admit she’d lost another battle.
TITLE
Orchard Hill: volume Two
Chapter 2
“Girls, grab your stuff, it’s time to go,” called Hope, anxiously checking her watch. She couldn’t be late for softball practice again, or Oliver would explode. It seemed he had a thing for punctuality. She peered into her living room where her six year old nieces had been watching television a few minutes ago while she paid bills in the office. The TV was on, but there was no one watching it.
“Where can they be?” Hope muttered to herself. She went to the window and quickly scanned her backyard. No sign of them.
She then conducted a room to room search. She was glad they weren’t in the bathroom. There was way too much mess potential there. Then she checked the dining room, the kitchen…
Hope gasped when she saw her kitchen. Drifts of flour covered the counter. She stepped into the room and slid across the floor, crashing into the fridge. Hope looked down and saw that she’d slipped on a broken egg.
She heard three giggles and found her nieces on the floor on the other side of the kitchen island, sharing a bag of chocolate chips. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “They’re children,” she reminded herself. “They’re children who have been deprived of attention and discipline. Theresa is counting on you to help take care of them until she’s well.”
Opening her eyes, Hope said in the calmest voice she could muster, “What are you doing in the kitchen? I thought you were going to watch TV.”
“We were,” said Dori, with a smile that was awfully close to a smirk. “But we got hungry. So we came into the kitchen to get a snack.”
“Let’s cut to the part where you destroyed my kitchen.”
Dori shrugged, as if it should be obvious. “You didn’t have any cookies. So we decided to make our own.”
“Only it was harder than we thought,” Lucy added. “And so we thought just plain chocolate chips without the cookies would be fine.”
“We didn’t mean to make a mess,” whispered Belle, the sensitive one. She looked sorry, but she had chocolate smeared across her face just like the other two.
“OK, you three know you are not allowed to make anything in the kitchen without an adult.”
“Yes, Aunt Hope,” agreed Dori, nodding in apparent agreement. “Should we use the dining room next time?”
Another deep, calming breath. “Dori, you and your sisters will not prepare any food in any room—or outside—without adult permission and help. Got it?” She gave them her best ‘I mean business’ look. It had, at times, reduced even fifth grade boys to tears. It was one of the most powerful weapons in her arsenal.
It didn’t daunt these three in the least. Lucy looked up at her with wide, deceptively innocent eyes. “Uncle Joseph told us the same thing last week.”
Hope stifled a groan. “Then you knew you were breaking a rule.”
“Oh no,” insisted Dori. “He only meant at his house.”
“That’s a poor excuse. You three are going to have this kitchen spotless in record time,” said Hope, glancing at the clock and deciding that there was no chance of getting to softball practice on time now. She was glad Abby had decided to visit a friend and then walk to practice today. Now, at least, they wouldn’t both be late. Teaching her nieces about discipline was more important than a game anyway.
“Belle, you put away everything you girls took out. Lucy, you wipe down all the cupboards. And Dori,” she held the girl’s defiant gaze, “you will mop up the eggs on the floor.”
****
“Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” grumbled Oliver as Hope’s car pulled into the parking lot. He hated that she was always late. He couldn’t concentrate on the game when he was waiting for her show up. He knew it was stupid, but he always worried that she’d had car trouble or something.
Andrew, the principal of the elementary school, was sitting next to him on the bench as they waited for their turn at bat. “I don’t know what you have against Hope,” he said.
“I don’t have anything against her,” Oliver protested. “It’s just rude to be late when your teammates are depending on you to be at practice.”
“She definitely adds something to the game—even before she steps onto the field.”
Oliver glanced at the man lounging down the bench a ways. Jordan Schmidt, a lecherous look in his eye, was definitely checking out Hope as she walked in. He never failed to voice his opinions on a woman’s attributes, often in far cruder language. How did a guy with a mouth like that ever get on a church team?
He decided to ignore the comment.
Hope arrived, breathless and apologetic. “Sorry to be late again, but...”
“Save the excuses,” Oliver snapped. “Just get here on time next practice.”
“I have a perfectly good reason…”
“It doesn’t matter what your reason is. You were still late.”
Hope pressed her lips together and sat on the bench next to Andrew. The team had been split in half so they could play a practice game. Pastor Isaac headed up the team whose members included, besides Hope, Oliver, Abby, Jordan Schmidt, Andrew Thomas, Kevin Fielding, Sarah Rogers, Riley and Ian O’Neil, and Jeff Bradley. Hope’s niece was up to bat. Oliver watched as she earned two strikes. He got up from the bench and jogged up to the plate. Signaling to the pitcher to wait, Oliver helped Abby adjust her stance and her grip on the bat. “That should help.”
On her next try, Abby got a hit and made it to first base. She gave Oliver a thumbs up and a big grin. This was the kind of thing Oliver lived for—helping kids succeed. Succeeding in sports gave them confidence and skills they could use in real life. He should know. His uncle having coached him had saved Oliver from sitting at the nerd table in the lunchroom throughout junior high. It was Oliver’s personal goal to make the nerd table—which was really nothing more than an island for the outcasts of the school—nonexistent in lunchrooms everywhere. Not necessarily by getting all kids into sports, but by helping kids to find confidence in themselves and showing them that everyone had value.
Of course Abby wasn’t technically a kid anymore. She was a beautiful young woman just like her aunt.
And there he was, back to Hope again.
She was up to bat. She passed him on his way back to the bench and gave him a luminous smile. “Thanks for helping Abby.”
Were any of God’s angels as beautiful as she was? “No problem,” he mumbled and kept going.
People had shuffled around since he got up and the only place left to sit was the end of the bench—by Jordan Schmidt. Reluctantly, Oliver sat down.
Jordan elbowed him in the ribs and said out of the side of his mouth, “Aren’t you going to help her with her stance? I’d take any excuse to put my arms around her. Hope Velasquez is one hot babe.”
Oliver didn’t have a civil answer to that comment, so again he said nothing, hoping his silence would give Jordan a clear message.
Unfortunately picking up on the subtleties of interpersonal communications was not one of Jordan’s strong points. “Too bad she’s so stuck up. We went to high school together. I must have asked her out a dozen times. She always turned me down.”
Oliver bit his lip to prevent h
imself from saying that this only proved she had good judgment, not that she was a snob.
“But we’ve been out of school a long time. Maybe she’s come around since then.”
There was a crack as the bat connected with the ball and Hope ran for first base. Oliver wondered if he should offer Jordan a towel to catch the drool as he openly ogled her.
She made it to first without being tagged, and then turned back toward the team and smiled again. Oliver thought she could make a fortune doing toothpaste commercials.
“Hey, you two work together, don’t you?”
He almost groaned aloud. Would this oaf ever shut up? “Yeah.”
“Maybe you can give me a few pointers, tell me what she likes. I just might have a shot with her this summer.”
This guy was dreaming. The only thing that would give him a shot with Hope was a heavy duty attitude adjustment. “I don’t really see her that much.”
Jordan’s face drooped with disappointment. “I guess you wouldn’t. She’d be cooped up in the library all day. Can’t imagine why a woman like her would want to spend all her time with books.” He said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Oh, yeah, he had a shot with Hope this summer, all right. Librarians were always hoping to snag a guy who thought the best use for books was to prop up the coffee table. Oliver guessed this guy had never read anything more involved than the back of a cereal box.
Jordan stood up, scratched his stomach, adjusted his baseball cap and spit on the ground. “Well, I guess I’m up next.”
Prince Charming personified, thought Oliver.
He managed to avoid any more conversation with him for the rest of practice. While everyone was gathering the equipment, he overheard Jordan asking Hope if she wanted to get some ice cream on the way home.
“Sorry, Jordan, but I need to take Abby home.”
“Maybe another time. I’d love to take you out.”
Hope raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
He leered back at her. “Yeah, really.”
Oliver’s jaw dropped when he heard her say, “That’s great.”
She batted her eyelashes at Jordan and continued. “There’s a book discussion group meeting at the library every week this summer. I was thinking of joining, but I don’t want to go alone. How about it?”
Oliver found it hard not to laugh out loud as Jordan tried to maneuver out of that one.
“Um…Um…I don’t think I’m free that night.”
“But I didn’t say what night it was.”
“Oh…well, I’ve been putting in a lot of overtime lately.”
“Gee, that’s too bad. I hear they’re reading Pride and Prejudice now.” She was all wide-eyed innocence. Oliver wondered if she’d ever been on the stage.
“Well, that sounds…interesting. I guess I’d better get going. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
“More overtime?”
“More…? Oh, yeah. I have to go.”
Jordan fled the scene. So much for his shot with Hope, thought Oliver with satisfaction.
She must have noticed he’d been eavesdropping because she turned and winked at him before she sauntered away.
His heart lurched and butterflies started catapulting around in his stomach. She was beautiful. She was smart. She was too nice to hurt the feelings of someone like Jordan. Oliver sat down on the bench and let out a breath of frustration. He needed to remember the reasons he had for keeping away from her. But right now all he wanted to do was catch up to her and tell her he’d love to go to that book group, even if it meant reading Dante’s Inferno—in Latin.
****
Abby chattered happily as Hope backed out of her parking spot and left the lot. She wasn’t really paying attention until she heard Oliver’s name. “It was really nice of him to help me. Don’t you work with that guy, Hope?”
“He’s the gym teacher at the elementary.”
“I think he’s gorgeous. Do you think he’ll ever ask you out?”
Hope wanted to laugh at that. “Probably not. I don’t see him much at school anyway.”
The fifteen year old sighed. “Do you think he has a younger brother?”
Hope did laugh then. “Why don’t you ask him next practice?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” If Abby’s face turned any redder, she would have been mistaken for a tomato. “Besides, Dad says I can’t date for another year anyway. I told him everyone else in my grade can date and you know what he said?”
“Hmmm, let me guess. He said, ‘I’m not everyone else’s father.’”
Abby’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Because your grandfather used to say that to us all the time.”
“Grandpa said that? No way!”
“He totally did.” Hope pulled into the driveway at her brother’s house.
“Can you come in for a while, Aunt Hope?”
“I’d love to, but I have to go home and re-clean my kitchen.”
“I thought you made the Terrible Trio do that.”
Hope frowned at her niece. “Don’t call them that. Yes, I made them clean it, but they are six year olds. Their cleaning skills aren’t fully developed yet.”
“You should tell Dad what they did.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle them.” All she needed was for Joseph to decide she couldn’t give her nieces proper supervision. Then she wouldn’t even have them once a week.
“They’re such pains. I wish they didn’t have to stay with us.”
“Abby, they’re family…”
“And you never turn family away. I know, I know. Did Grandpa say that, too?”
“Fortunately I don’t think he ever had to.”
Abby stood in the driveway and waved as Hope pulled back out into the street. She couldn’t blame Abby for being unhappy. What teen would want her house invaded by three little cousins who had a total disregard for rules and a talent for making a house look like a tornado had gone through.
They needed so much guidance, so much love…She thought of the sticky kitchen waiting for her. They needed so much discipline.
Home once again, Hope turned off her car and rested her head on the steering wheel. Her family had gone through so much in the last few years—Theresa and Jamie’s struggle to have children, Jamie’s death, and then the death of Joseph’s wife. Now they were dealing with Theresa’s alcoholism and her wild children. In a way, Hope was glad her parents had retired to Florida. They were spared from the brunt of these problems. But things had to get better soon, didn’t they? “Please God,” she prayed.
TITLE
Orchard Hill: volume Two
Chapter 3
Later that week, Oliver watched from outside the elementary school library as Hope led a story time. He assumed the theme had something to do with fairy tales. Hope was wearing one of those ridiculous cone hats with the scarf on the end as princesses wore in storybooks. A couple of little boys and one little girl had knight’s helmets on. He also saw a few crowns and wizard’s hats throughout the audience.
Hope had an open book in one hand, but he could tell the kids weren’t really looking at the book, because Hope was so much more interesting. She put everything she had into telling the story. Her face was animated and her free hand gestured repeatedly. He had no doubt she’d developed a different voice for each character. The kids really loved her, and Oliver understood why.
He turned away from the library and saw Andrew coming toward him. The men exchanged greetings. Oliver fell into step with Andrew, and they continued on down the hall. “How do you think the softball team is doing?” asked Andrew.
“Great, but I was surprised to see you there. I didn’t know you attended Orchard Hill Community church.”
“I’ve only started there recently. It’s Faith’s church, and since Kevin is still in confirmation I thought it would be easier for me to switch.” Andrew was referring to his secretary Faith and her son. He and Faith had started dating at the end
of the school year when Andrew realized how much he cared for Faith.
“Are you two getting serious?” asked Oliver.
A big grin split Andrew’s face. “Definitely. I’m going to marry her as soon as I can convince her to have me.”
“That’s moving kind of fast, isn’t it?”
“Not really. You know we’ve been close friends for years. We don’t have all that ‘getting to know you’ stuff to take care of. I know exactly who Faith is, and that’s why I know I love her.”
Orchard Hill Volume Two Page 9
