A House Full of Hope. Missy Tippens

      Chapter Two

      That evening, Hannah drove to pick up her four children at her mother’s duplex apartment not far from the bank. Their daily stampede to the front door to greet her never failed to lighten the stress of the day. Even the stress of facing Mark Ryker. They’re such a joy, Lord. Thank You.

       Donna eyed her from head to toe, as if taking inventory. “Hello, Hannah. Rough day?”

       Obviously, she looked harried. “A little.”

       Without a hair out of place, Donna directed the kids to gather their belongings, which sat neatly packed by the front door. Always a bundle of energy, she didn’t look like a woman who’d watched a house full of kids for nine hours. Even her hazel eyes seemed bright, not tired. The woman was amazing. Only the streaks of silver at her temples and scattered through her brown hair gave away the fact that she was a grandmother.

       “Come on, kids. I imagine you’re hungry.”

       Donna smoothed Tony’s hair. “You know good and well their nana wouldn’t let them leave hungry.”

       “We had a snack,” the twins called in unison.

       She thanked her mother for babysitting and hurried them to the car. She made sure all four were buckled in her minivan and then she drove toward home.

       “There’s our old house,” Becca said, same as she did every day, as they approached the apartment complex they’d called home for the past seven years.

       Hannah looked in the rearview mirror and discovered Becca, with her dark pigtails and pink-framed glasses, staring out the window. “Yes. Do you miss it?”

       “I do,” Tony said. Her child who didn’t like change. Who hadn’t wanted to move so far from his nana.

       “Not me,” Becca said. “I like having my own room.”

       She slowed as they passed. So many memories at that apartment, good and bad…

       Memories of Anthony and her moving in when Becca was a toddler and Tony was a baby. Tony taking his first steps across the kitchen floor. The surprise of another pregnancy. Bringing home the twins to a too-small apartment. Struggling through those early days with no sleep and tons of bottles and diapers. Trying to make sure Tony and Becca got enough attention while taking care of newborns. Watching her husband, Anthony, drag in the door each evening, worn-out from working overtime to support their expanding family.

       Anthony getting more and more tired. To the point he could hardly work. Then those life-altering words from her husband’s mouth: “I have cancer.”

       That simple sentence reverberated through her mind as if he’d uttered it just yesterday. Hannah stifled a sob and beat back the grief that clawed and left her raw inside. Grief that could suck her under its dark, smothering weight if she let it. No time right now. Too much to do.

       She closed the door on the painful memories and forced herself to look ahead. She had four beautiful children who were her world. And she had finally provided them the spacious house she and Anthony had always wanted for them.

       Lots of space to run and play. Five bedrooms—one each. A huge kitchen with a table big enough to hold everyone plus friends and family. A room with lots of shelf space, the perfect library for nine-year-old Becca and her precious books. A barn and woods for seven-year-old Tony to explore. And a brand-new swing set she’d bought on layaway for six-year-old Emily and Eric.

       She turned to look at four smiling faces in the back of the van. Sweet faces that never failed to lift her spirits. Their unconditional love was the only thing that had kept her going the past two years, that had given her the strength to start this new phase of their lives. “Well, our new home is working out well.”

       Becca pushed her glasses higher up on her nose, her big brown eyes wide with wonder. “I wish Nana would babysit us at our new house. There’s so much new territory to explore, so much to show her.”

       Since Becca’s nose was always in a book, particularly of the Nancy Drew mystery variety, Hannah had no doubt the old farmhouse had opened up a whole new world for her daughter. But Hannah’s mother refused to set foot on Ryker property. “We’ll see.”

       As she drove away from downtown Corinthia, the courthouse and storefronts shrinking in her rearview mirror, Hannah imagined she could breathe more deeply. Along the ten-minute drive, homes grew farther apart, and the landscape changed to pastures dotted with cows or horses and the occasional farmhouse.

       When she reached Redd Ryker’s mailbox, she turned onto their property and glanced at the dashboard clock. Mark’s visit, and the fact that he’d left her stewing, had put her behind all day long.

       “Since it’s so late, how about I make frozen pizza for dinner?”

       Squeals and clapping hands rattled her brain as she wound along the dirt-and-gravel road for about a hundred yards. Trees arched over the drive from each side, forming a canopy dappled with the evening sunlight. The tranquility even managed to quiet the kids.

       “I love this part,” Tony whispered.

       They entered the clearing, and the house came into sight. The squeals and clapping began anew.

       “Can I play outside?” Emily begged.

       “Me, too?” Eric added as he unbuckled and tried to climb over Emily to get out first. He could never let Emily do something before he did.

       “For about a half hour.” Hannah pointed to the left side of the house toward the garage apartment where Redd lived. “Y’all play in the side yard or out back in case Mr. Redd drives up. Be sure to stay out of the way.”

       “Okay, Mommy!” Emily yelled as the four escaped from the van to play under the huge live oak tree towering over the freestanding two-story garage. Hannah unlocked the front door, stepped inside and nearly tripped over boxes that still needed unpacking.

       Two weeks since they moved, and she’d barely made a dent in the number of boxes. But with her job and the kids home for the summer, she could hardly find time to cook and do the laundry. Unpacking had to be done in bits and snatches.

       She went to turn on the oven to preheat, then plopped down on a box marked Hughes—kitchen.

       Though she was thrilled to have the house, disappointment nibbled at her joy. She had hoped to build her dream home, a haven for her and the kids, and to finally experience the security of owning a home. But once the medical bills and funeral expenses had been paid, the insurance money was nearly gone. Anthony had made the mistake of procrastinating on increasing his policy once the children were born.

      We’re young and healthy, he’d said. We need the money for groceries.

       And, foolishly, she hadn’t insisted he rectify the situation. Now, all she’d been able to afford was a larger rental property. Home ownership would have to come later.

       She opened the box she’d been sitting on and dug to find the round baking sheet. After washing it, she pulled the pizza out of the freezer and popped it into the oven.

       The kitchen was slowly looking homier. At least now they didn’t have to squeeze into a three-bedroom apartment, and once school started in the fall, they wouldn’t be stepping all over each other as they got ready for work and school in the mornings. Even if the Ryker house didn’t belong to them, it was still theirs for the time being.

       As long as Mark didn’t cause a problem.