Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  “I’ll talk with your father. I’m sure we’ll work it out.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You’re the greatest. See you later.”

  She tried to go back to her work. If only she had half the confidence in handling her life as Brendon did.

  * * *

  Becca put her paperwork away. Since she wasn’t getting anything done anyway, she might as well head to the Fellowship Hall to be on hand to greet parents picking up their children. They tended to come earlier on Fridays.

  “Hey.” Jared’s baritone pulled her from her jumble of thoughts about her ex-in-laws, Matt and the kids.

  “Hi. Looking for your brother? He should still be in his office unless the toddler teacher has him reading the ‘twos’ a story. He made a lot of little friends the day he subbed in that class.”

  “No, I’m looking for you.”

  Her heart raced. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to explain, run something by you. It was Connor’s idea actually.”

  “It’s not about your racetrack? I’m taking Tom’s advice and avoiding any appearance of conflict of interest.” Especially after the Sheriff’s setup on Saturday and today’s attempt at coercion.

  “It’s not about the racing school. But it’s as important. More important.”

  Something in his voice, even more than his words, made her really look at him. She saw lines around his mouth she hadn’t noticed before and fatigue in his eyes.

  “Do you want to come in the school office?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pull up a chair.” Becca sat behind the desk before it struck her that it might have been better for him to have left the chair by the wall and her to have taken the adjacent seat. It was the teacher in her. She was used to having a desk buffer.

  He sat in the chair, his presence seeming to take up more space than the Sheriff and Debbie combined. “Connor thinks I should volunteer to help with Vacation Bible School next week.”

  When Debbie had been maligning the little girl, and Becca had said she’d suggest to Connor that Jared enroll his daughter in VBS, she hadn’t thought about Jared being part of the package. She pasted a smile on her face. “We’re always looking for more volunteers.”

  “No.” He shot out of his seat and stalked back and forth in front of the desk. “It’s not really about VBS. It’s Hope, our sister.”

  The little girl was Jared’s illegitimate sister, not his daughter. It shouldn’t make a difference. Everyone made mistakes, and the Lord forgave them all. But, as much as her thought bothered her, it did make a difference. She waited for him to go on.

  He dropped back into the chair. “Connor and I found out Wednesday that we have a six-year-old sister named Hope.” He explained the sad circumstances, how he and his grandmother had brought her back to Paradox Lake and he’d taken custody of her as her closest and oldest living relative. “She’s hardly done anything the past two days except cry and ask to go home. But she doesn’t have any home but ours now.”

  He slumped as if his feeling of helplessness was more than he could handle.

  “The poor little thing.” Becca reached across the desk and touched his hand. He recoiled as if stung before reaching back and covering her hand with his. She squeezed his thumb hoping to give back some of the strength he’d given her when he’d held her Saturday night.

  He gave her a halfhearted smile. “I know there isn’t the stigma against illegitimate children there once was. But poor little Hope is Jerry Donnelly’s daughter, a daughter young enough to be his granddaughter. My parents were still married when she was born. Some people are going to talk.” His expression hardened. “While I don’t care what people say about me—” Becca wasn’t as sure about that as he seemed to be “—I care about what people might say about Hope.”

  “And you’re looking for your church family to help. I’ll call Autumn Hazard-Hanlon tonight and put Hope on the church prayer chain, if Connor hasn’t already.”

  “Thanks. Eli put me in touch with the counselor for the lower grades at the Schroon Lake school.” He seemed to be searching for words.

  “Yes, I know her. She’s great with the kids.”

  He breathed in and out. “She’s going to work with Hope. But she suggested being with other kids might help. Connor came up with the VBS idea. Gram is going to be here, too.”

  Becca nodded. Mrs. Stowe had been helping with VBS for as long as she remembered.

  “I’d like to register Hope.”

  “Sure thing.” Becca pulled out the registration list she’d been going over earlier to make class assignments.

  “What grade will Hope be going into in the fall?”

  “I have no idea. I have a bunch of papers. But I’ve been up almost thirty hours straight. I haven’t looked at them.”

  Becca sympathized. It had to be almost like having a new infant. She remembered well being up all night with Ari and having no one to relieve her. “No problem. I’ll put Hope in the class with the kids who have finished kindergarten or first grade. Your grandmother is helping Karen with that class, and Ari will be in it.”

  “Good. Maybe they’ll be friends.”

  “I’ll talk with Ari.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you Monday. No, Sunday. We’ll be at church. Gram is doing the children’s program.”

  “Right. I’ll put you to work Monday with the fifth and sixth graders. We seem to have a decided majority of boys this year.”

  As she listened to Jared walk down the hall, against her better judgment, all she could think of was how his volunteering would allow them to be together without his project or her ex-in-laws between them. How pathetic was that?

  * * *

  “Jared, can you sit with my class when we get ice cream?”

  He looked into wide blue eyes that mirrored his own and his insides melted faster than the July sun would melt the soft-serve ice cream VBS was providing as an after-closing treat.

  “Sure, Hope. I’ll have the kids from my class sit near us and let Ms. Leanne know what we’re doing so she can help me keep an eye on them.”

  Hope favored him with one of her rare, but more frequent, smiles.

  “Should we ask Connor to sit with us?” he asked.

  “I guess. He’s my brother, too.”

  Jared warmed at Hope’s preference for him.

  “But you have to ask Ms. Becca. She’s Ari’s mother, you know. And I like her.”

  He did, too. More than was good for him. “I know. But won’t Ari ask her to sit with your class?”

  He and Becca had gotten along well working with the kids this week, but she’d kept a professional distance.

  “Yeah, but you’re bigger and a man. My grammy, not your grandma, said that my mommy would do anything a man asked her to do.”

  Sadness settled over him. “Ms. Becca seems to do what she wants to do, not what other people tell her. And what God tells her is right.”

  “Like we learned in our Bible story yesterday,” Hope said.

  “Just like that.” He stopped himself from giving her the hug he wanted to. He and Connor had learned that Hope wasn’t ready for the hugs and kisses and tickles that had been a part of their childhood with their mother and grandparents.

  “Okay, everyone.” Connor pitched his voice above the din of the children and adults milling around the church hall. “Line up with your class. If a parent or other special visitor is driving you to the soft-serve stand, he or she can pick you up from your class. If not, stay with your teacher. Either Jared or Mrs. Hill will be driving you in the church van or her minivan.”

  Hope tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. “Does that mean I can ride with you because you’re my special visitor?”

  “It certainly does.”

  “Ari and her mommy, too?�
�

  “No, I think they’ll be driving their own car.”

  “Oh. But we can still sit with them, right?”

  “Right. We should be able to sit with them.” From growing up with his father, he knew better than to make promises he might not be able to keep.

  Fifteen minutes later, Jared and Becca were at the soft-serve stand’s outside service window handing cones to the fifth and sixth graders. The younger children had been served first, and Karen Hill and his grandmother had taken Hope and Ari with the rest of their class to a large picnic table shaded by a tall stand of pines.

  “That takes care of the kids,” Jared said. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “Vanilla chocolate swirl,” Becca said.

  Jared ordered Becca’s cone and a vanilla one for himself and pulled out his wallet.

  “You don’t have to pay for your cone,” Becca said. “I have the money here.” She patted her pocket. “From the VBS fund.”

  “I don’t have to. I want to.” He placed a one hundred dollar bill on the window counter.

  Her eyes widened. “Not for the whole school.”

  “Why not? It’s a contribution. For the kids. You’ll have more money for next year.”

  “I guess.”

  “What if I say I cleared it with Connor?”

  “In that case...”

  “I didn’t say I did. I said what if.”

  She laughed and slugged him in the arm.

  The server returned with their cones and he settled up.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Hope’s high-pitched voice carried across the parking lot to them. He strode toward the table with Becca at his heels.

  “Jared doesn’t look like a brother,” Ari argued back. “Brendon is a brother. Jared looks more like a daddy.”

  Jared held his breath, ready to referee if Hope burst into tears, her usual way of handing any tension and her grief. Not that he could blame her, not with all she’d been through.

  “He is, too, my brother.”

  Becca brushed ahead of him as if to intervene. He grabbed her elbow. “Wait. Let them go for a second. This is the first I’ve seen her show any spirit. She hardly talks at home.”

  Becca’s look of pity encompassed them both.

  “Jared and me don’t know where our daddy is. He’s probably dead like my mommy and grammy.”

  He ignored the black look Becca gave him. Did she think he’d told Hope that? He rushed over, ready for the expected torrent of tears.

  “I’ll let Jared be your big brother, too, or Connor or Josh, if you want.”

  “Pastor Connor is your brother, too?” Ari asked in disbelief.

  “Of course, silly. He and Josh are Jared’s brothers, so they’re mine, too.”

  “No fair,” Ari said. “All I have is Brendon. And my daddy in Connecticut.”

  His throat went scratchy. Ari’s last words sounded like an afterthought. He knew only too well what an absent father felt like, although his had been physically present.

  “Jared and Connor and Josh are better than any old daddy.” Hope stuck out her lower lip.

  Jared’s heart swelled at her words. Of course, they wouldn’t have to be much to be better than her father.

  “Isn’t that sweet?” Becca whispered, placing her hand on his forearm and infusing him with an altogether different kind of warmth.

  She pulled her hand away. “Watch it. Your ice cream.”

  He felt her gaze on him as he licked the drip off of his hand and the cone.

  She cleared her throat. “If Hope feels comfortable with the kids, you might want to sign her up for a couple days or half days here. We have an opening in her age group.”

  “Connor and I talked about that.”

  “I’ll text you over the weekend what you need to have to register her. That way, if you decide to, you can come in next week and do the paperwork.”

  “We’ll see.” He was torn. He needed some respite from taking care of Hope so he could work on his racing-school project. But he wanted to reassure her that he was there for her, wasn’t going to go away as everyone else in the little girl’s life had.

  “Mommy,” Ari said. “We saved you and Jared a seat.”

  The girls scooted down the picnic table bench to make room for them. Becca slid in, then Jared.

  “Can you hold my cone?” Becca asked handing it to him before he was able to answer.

  She pulled several napkins out of the dispenser in the middle of the table, and he watched in admiration as she deftly mopped the ice cream off both Ari’s and Hope’s faces and hands.

  “Thanks.” She took her cone back and started eating it without missing a beat.

  He listened to the girls’ chatter and Becca’s comments as they ate their ice cream. He wasn’t sure if it was her teacher’s training or a natural affinity for children, but Becca made parenting look far easier than he was finding it to be.

  “Better round up the troops,” Jared said when they’d finished. Before he rose to gather the kids who had ridden to the soft-serve stand in the church van with him, an older woman stopped at their table.

  “What a beautiful family you have. I’ve been watching the girls. I couldn’t help it. They’re so cute. Are they twins? It’s adorable how much the one looks like her mother and the other so much like you.”

  Jared and Becca stared at her. “Thank you,” Becca choked out.

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said, introducing herself. “I’m here visiting my daughter and her family. They recently moved here and are looking for a home church, so they enrolled the kids in VBS. They’ve had a great week.” She laughed. “I know. More than you needed to know. My daughter tells me that all the time. You make such a nice family. I couldn’t resist stopping and telling you so.”

  Jared opened his mouth, but no words came out. No one had ever referred to his family as a nice family.

  “How kind of you to say that.” Becca filled the gap in the conversation. “But we’re not—”

  “Sorry,” the woman said. “My daughter is waving to me to leave.”

  Jared watched her scurry off. She’d probably find out soon enough that they weren’t a family, nice or otherwise. He glanced sideways at Becca and the girls. But for a moment, he was going to let himself forget about all of the complications in his life and allow himself to pretend.

  Chapter Ten

  “Come on, guys, get a move on.” Becca herded the kids out to the car. It was her week to open The Kids’ Place at six-forty-five to be ready for parents who had to drop their kids off at seven. Brendon dragged himself out and into the backseat, a stark contrast to Ari, who bounced out and chatted away as Becca checked the buckle on her booster seat.

  “You’re awful quiet this morning,” she said to her son. “Too early for you?”

  “No.”

  Becca glanced at the rearview mirror. He was staring out the side window. She knew he’d rather not have to go to day care with her every day. None of his friends did. But it was only one summer. Next year, God willing, her finances would be better and she’d be able to stay home with Brendon and Ari as she had other summers. She bit her lip. Unless Matt sued her successfully for joint custody and her child support payments were reduced.

  “Mom,” Brendon said after she’d driven a couple of miles. “I think Dad wants us to come to his house next weekend.”

  “Did he call you last night?” She tried to keep her voice nonchalant. Ever since Matt had given Brendon the cell phone, he and the Sheriff had been calling Brendon rather than her about arranging visits, in violation of their custody agreement. Usually, Brendon brought the phone right to her.

  “He must have called after I fell asleep. He left a voice message. He sounds funny like before he left and he
used to come home late and you guys would fight.”

  Becca gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. Brendon had been a toddler then. Her heart sunk. She’d had no idea he’d heard or remembered.

  “Here, listen. He says something about coming to get us or Grandpa coming to get us on Friday and something about Florida.” Brendon played the message.

  Matt was clearly drunk. As Brendon had said, Matt rambled on about coming to get the kids on Friday and, then, about the Sheriff and Debbie bringing Brendon and Ari to Connecticut on Friday. After that, he went off about Florida and his job and Disney World.

  She swallowed the bile in her throat. “Does your father ever sound like that when you stay with him?”

  “He did a little after the picnic he took us to.”

  Her shoulders tensed. “Did he drive you home after the picnic?”

  “No, Grandpa drove us. Dad and Crystal rode in their 370z. It only has two seats.”

  “Promise me you won’t get in the car with him or let Ari if you see that your father’s been drinking beer or anything else with alcohol or if he sounds funny like that.”

  “We always ride with Grandpa and Grandma. She says it’s too much of a pain to move Ari’s booster seat.” Brendon’s voice dropped a couple decibels. “But I think she knows Dad drinks too much.”

  The pain she felt for Brendon overshadowed her tension. “Promise me, anyway.”

  “I promise. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the TV commercials. So, do we have to go to Dad’s or what? Grandpa says we have to go to Dad and Crystal’s whenever they say. It’s in some agreement you guys have.”

  Now wasn’t the time to explain her and Matt’s agreement, but if Matt was going to start using his visitation rights, the kids, Brendon especially, were old enough to know the basic details. And, as sad as it made her, she needed to sit Ari down and talk with her in six-year-old terms about not riding with Matt if he’d been drinking.

  “I’ll talk to your dad and Grandma or Grandpa.”

  “Tell them this weekend isn’t good for me. Remember, it’s Ian’s birthday and they’re having a campout party at the lake.”

  “I remember.”