Georgia Sweethearts. Missy Tippens
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that left her drained. “Blake, Daniel’s done a wonderful job with the church. Especially getting his members involved ministering to the community.” She squeezed Daniel’s hand in her warm, soft grasp as she stared into his eyes, pride beaming. “You should be proud of your son.”
Daniel smiled his appreciation even as he girded himself for his father’s dismissal.
“Fifty, huh?” Blake asked.
For a split second, he thought his dad looked surprised—maybe even pleased—at the rapid growth. Then he realized Blake probably found the size laughable. Disappointed by his son’s career change, he’d probably be happy if Daniel’s venture failed.
“We’re nearing fifty,” Daniel said. “I’d like to have room for growth until we find a permanent location.”
“Doesn’t matter to me what size. You quit a lucrative job against my advice. Then poured good money into seminary, only to recklessly start your own church instead of taking a position at an established one with a dependable income.”
He’d heard the same spiel from his dad so many times he could recite it word for word. The man acted as if Daniel had taken up a life of crime.
“So do you know of anywhere we could rent?” Daniel asked, unable to keep the exasperation from his voice.
“Nope.” Blake pushed away from the table. “Ann, I’m sorry, but I need to go. I’m expecting a conference call.”
Her eyes flashed as she got up from the table. Nothing made her madder than family members who didn’t get along. “I hope you can stay longer next time. Maybe schedule that call for earlier in the day.”
She opened the refrigerator and hunkered in front of the shelves as if searching for something, no doubt avoiding further confrontation with her son-in-law. Daniel could imagine her clenching her jaw to keep from speaking her mind. He understood the temptation.
“Thank you for an excellent dinner.” With nothing more than a nod of the head at Daniel, Blake exited the back door, shutting it quietly behind him, as if to prove he was the only one in control of his emotions.
GranAnn popped out of the refrigerator and smacked the door shut. “If I didn’t love that man like my own son, I’d have to shake him ’til his teeth rattled.”
At the image of his tiny grandmother shaking his brawny father, Daniel laughed. “I’d be happy to help.”
“Don’t you give up on your daddy. He’s bottled up a lot of pain. I think having you both here in Corinthia is a blessing. God can work miracles.”
Yeah, he’d started praying for that miracle at the age of nine, when he realized other boys had dads who didn’t work every waking hour, dads who showed up for peewee football games, who ate meals at home and tucked their kids into bed at night. He’d prayed for a dad who cared until the day he left for college, when he finally let go of the desire to matter to his father and changed his focus to look to the future. To quit wallowing in self-pity and make a difference in the world.
“You must be starving. Now eat,” Gran said.
He bowed his head and thanked God for the food.
As soon as he opened his eyes, she dropped into the chair across from him. “Cricket’s mother called before dinner. She wanted to thank you for coming over this afternoon. Said she thought Cricket seemed better.”
The breath rushed out of him in a surge of relief. The girl, pregnant at fifteen, was severely depressed. “Good news. I’m meeting with the family again next week.”
“Even better news is Cricket has finally agreed to see a psychiatrist about the depression.”
“I’m glad. I should probably follow up with her parents, to make sure she goes. I’m uncomfortable waiting a week before we meet again.”
A sense of unease over Cricket wouldn’t let up. He decided to call her mom in the morning to offer assistance. Then, he’d regroup and figure out a way to convince Lilly Barnes that renting out her basement could benefit them both.
* * *
Lilly walked in the front door of her sister and brother-in-law’s house, her temporary home, tension knotting her gut over what she’d find inside. As if concern over the yarn shop hadn’t already tied her stomach tightly enough.
“I’m home,” she called. Both Jenna’s and Ned’s vehicles were there. Which meant potential for an evening of arguing.
The cool, dark entry hall enveloped her. Quiet. A good sign. Maybe she’d dreaded coming inside for no reason. Maybe tonight would be one of the good nights.
As she hung up her coat in the closet, her stomach started to relax. Then a bedroom door slammed down the hallway of the tiny two-bedroom rental. Behind the closed door, voices raised, one high-pitched, the other low.
Jenna and Ned.
She considered slipping out to go to a restaurant, but then a whimper came from the family room.
Will.
She headed toward the sound and found her ten-month-old nephew standing in the exercise saucer, leaning over, trying to reach a toy on the floor.
“Hey, sweet thing. Did you drop your doggie?”
Will’s big brown eyes lit up, and he gave her a slobbery grin that made her feel like the most important person in the world. He sprang up and down on his chunky little legs as he raised his arms to her, straining for all he was worth.
She pulled him up and out of his seat and kissed the top of his head, the silky brown curls tickling her nose, the powdery scent of baby shampoo calming her. Then she handed him his toy. “Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”
The voices down the hall escalated, but Will didn’t flinch. Apparently, he’d grown accustomed to his parents arguing. Like she and Jenna had grown accustomed to their parents arguing. Or so she’d told herself.
Lilly blew out a huge sigh as she headed toward the kitchen, wishing that she could as easily exhale all the old memories and be rid of them permanently.
Jenna pretended all was well in the Jones household, but Lilly knew better. And from what she’d observed, she feared Jenna and Ned might not be able to work out their differences. Jenna refused to go to marriage counseling. Why couldn’t she see she’d snagged a decent guy worth fighting for? He was a good father, a hardworking firefighter who loved Jenna. If not for Ned’s help, they couldn’t have managed repairing the yarn shop building.
Yet, Jenna seemed to have checked out, sabotaging the relationship, just like she had every other one. Lilly hoped Ned would be patient and not give up on his wife.
Though the tiny kitchen’s countertop was stacked with a day’s worth of dirty dishes, Jenna had left a pot of chili simmering on the stovetop. Two jars of unopened baby food sat on the high chair tray beside a clean bib. “Looks like you and me, kid. Dinner for two. Although I’ll pass on your smooshed-up peas.”
She placed him in his chair and snapped the bib in place. The spicy steam wafted her way, making her stomach growl, but she needed to feed Will first.
As she opened the jars of food, he banged the tray and started to fuss. “Eee!” His impatient version of eat.
He cranked up a pitiful wail. A splash of Cheerios on his tray appeased his appetite and allowed for independence as his little fingers snagged the oat circles he loved. Since he usually spit out half of what she fed him, she’d learned to distract him with the cereal while she tried to sneak in some vegetables and meat.
They’d managed some success with her method when she heard Ned’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward the kitchen.
He walked in, cheeks high in color, dark, wavy hair disheveled. “Hi, Lilly.” He kissed his son on the head. Wiped a smear of sweet potatoes off Will’s cheek. “Eat like a good boy. Daddy’s