Authors: Debra Clopton
“Nathan is none too keen on anyone or anything,” Odelia said dismissively, “but he'll get over that. As for Phillip, he's an intelligent man. He'll come up with something.”
“He needs to come up with a firm understanding of God's involvement in his life,” Hypatia stated flatly. “And I'm sorry, Odelia, but from what I can tell, Carissa doesn't seem to like our Phillip very much.”
Sighing, Odelia had to admit that it was true, though how any woman could resist Phillip's charm and masculinity, she didn't know.
“Besides, you're forgetting something else,” Magnolia pointed out. She waited until she had the rapt attention of both of her sisters before bluntly saying, “Our brother.”
Hypatia winced. “I hate to speak ill of a loved one, but Murdock can be a bit of a, um...”
“Snob,” Odelia supplied unhappily.
Murdock and his wife, Maryanne, both dedicated doctors, had initially disapproved of their oldest son Asher's wife, Ellie, and they had actively fought the marriage of their oldest daughter, Petra, to Dale Bowen because he worked as a carpenter. They even seemed to disapprove of Phillip himself because he hadn't chosen a “premium” profession, such as law or medicine. Murdock had even once said that he'd happily settle for banking or education for his younger son, but Phillip had chosen bookkeeping instead then hadn't even gotten a job in the field.
Odelia could only imagine what Murdock and Maryanne's opinion would be of a penniless widow with three children as a daughter-in-law. She hated to think that they might even be petty enough to hold it against Carissa that her aunt and uncle had been longtime employees at Chatam House. She had once heard Maryanne refer to Chester and Hilda as servants. The very term made Odelia shudder.
On the other hand, no one could say that Murdock and Maryanne weren't dedicated parents. They had eventually accepted both Ellie and Dale, and the birth of their first grandchild, Asher and Ellie's daughter, seemed to have softened them considerably. They had both recently retired in order to spend more time with family, and the sisters had noticed a renewed interest in spiritual matters.
“What is needed here is prayer,” Odelia decided.
“Indeed it is,” Hypatia agreed, “for all concerned.”
“Prayer,” Magnolia pointed out, “is the one thing we might do that can only help and never hurt.”
Odelia bowed her head. God's will was always the best answer, but she couldn't help wanting things to work out for Phillip and Carissa
together
. Perhaps she was just an old romantic, but it seemed like the perfect solution. Carissa needed a husband, and those children needed a father. And Phillip...so far as she could tell, Phillip just needed to grow up. Besides, next to the love of the Lord, the love between husband and wife was the most sacred and wonderful of bonds. That was a normal thing to wish for one's nephew, wasn't it?
* * *
“This is all too much,” Carissa said for perhaps the fourth or fifth time. “This suite is larger than Dad's whole apartment, and moving in here is like taking over someone's house.”
Phillip mentally kicked himself for mentioning that the master suite had once belonged to his grandparents and had always been considered the heart of the house.
“But this space was made for children,” he pointed out, setting the last of the suitcases in the center of the sitting-room floor. “Hub Senior and Gussie were very happily married and, unlike many of their generation and wealth, they were hands-on parents. Having triplet daughters prompted them to create this suite in order to keep their infants and their nurse close by.”
He went on to explain that as the other three children came along, those arrangements proved wise and useful. Even as the children got older and moved into other areas of the house, Hub and Gussie maintained the large three-bedroom suite in order to keep ailing or frightened youngsters near, especially at night.
“This is the best space for a family. Why shouldn't you use it?”
The rest of the house had undergone various renovations over the decades, the latest being Odelia and Kent's private suite.
“I don't know,” she said, shaking her head. “Staying here for a few days is one thing, moving in is another.”
Tired of arguing with her, he said, “So which of the aunties are you going to annoy, then, Hypatia or Odelia?”
Carissa looked at him with something akin to horror on her lovely face. The smattering of freckles across the bridge of her pert nose extended just far enough across her high cheekbones to be scarcely visible in profile, but when she turned to fully face him, as she did now, it formed a delicate mask, a gossamer veil above which her deep blue eyes frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you decide on the small suite, you'll be next door to Hypatia's bedroom, and if you take the east suite, you'll be next to Odelia and Kent's. Of course, here, you're only next to...”
“You,”
she finished sourly. Then she immediately looked contrite. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. We don't want to disturb anyone.”
Phillip sighed. “Look, the truth is, you won't be disturbing me or my aunts, no matter which suite you choose, but the master suite is the best for
everyone.
”
Carissa nodded. The children traded uncertain but curious looks. The interchange between Phillip and Carissa had obviously piqued their interest. Carissa noticed, as well.
“Okay. Let's get this stuff put away,” she ordered. “Everybody pitch in.”
By the time they worked out where to put everything, they were all exhausted, the children especially. Carissa declared that a nap was in order before dinner. Nathan made a fuss, but she insisted. Phillip wandered back into the sitting room, listening to the oddly domestic sounds of shoes hitting the floor, pillows being fluffed, hugs and kisses being traded, even the whines and complaints of tired, little voices. When Carissa returned, Phillip couldn't help smiling, thinking how sweetly rumpled she looked.
She dropped down onto the sofa. “Thanks for all your help today. I'm sorry we put you to so much trouble.”
“I didn't have anything better to do,” he replied lightly, waiting for her to invite him to sit.
She rubbed her hands over her face then looked up at him with some surprise, as if she was unhappy to find him still standing there. “Well, good night.”
Disappointed, he said, “Good night,” and he moved swiftly to the door, more hurt than he had any reason to be. Honestly, how many ways did the woman have to prove that she wasn't interested in him? She'd made it more than plain that she didn't even like him. If he had an ounce of sense, he'd keep as much distance between them as humanly possible. His resolve to do just that almost made it through the door.
Almost.
Chapter Five
Y
anking the door open, Phillip walked straight through it, but before he shut it closed behind him, he heard her sniff. It was the barest sound, just a catch of breath and a tiny, liquid burble. He did his best to ignore it. He tried very hard to close the door, but he just couldn't do it. Gritting his teeth, he argued with himself. From the very beginning, the woman had made it clear that something about him rubbed her the wrong way. On the other hand, she'd been under great duress from the moment he'd met her. And today, she'd buried her father. As if to underscore that, she made a soft, gasping sound, and he lost the fight.
Covering the distance to the sofa in three long strides, he dropped down next to her and pulled her into his arms without a word. She dissolved, plastering herself against him to muffle the sobs that she'd tried so hard to keep hidden. As he folded her close, he felt an odd sense of purpose even amid her emotional storm. She might stab him again with that sharp tongue of hers before he finally went on his way, but he didn't much mind, not really. He rather enjoyed her independent, outspoken nature. At this very moment, he didn't think he'd much mind if she ripped him to shreds and handed him the pieces in a gunnysack.
Phillip put his hand in Carissa's hair. It felt like the softest silk. Stroking it tenderly, he crooned comforting sounds as Carissa wept.
“Shhh, shhh. It's all right, sweetheart. Don't cry.”
“Nothing's gone right,” she wailed in a tiny voice.
“I know it seems that way, but you're okay.”
“I've failed at everything I've ever done.”
“How can you say that with those three amazing kids?” he asked, astounded.
“I've failed them at every turn,” she insisted. “I can't even provide a proper home for them.”
“What do you call this?”
“Charity!”
“Only until you earn enough money to get into your own place.”
“With what? Telephone sales?” she scoffed. “I haven't worked in days.”
“You just buried your father. Besides, you can't work all the time. Give yourself a break, will you?”
“You don't understand,” she said, putting some distance between them. “I was living with my father because I lost our home when my business failed.”
Her father had alluded to something like that, so Phillip wasn't surprised.
“At least you
had
your own business,” he said. “That's more than I've ever had. What kind of business was it?”
She shook her head, but then explained. “Proprietary software. You know, personalized code, one-of-a-kind stuff for specialized businesses.”
“Oh. I didn't realize there was a need for that kind of thing.”
“Obviously not a great need,” she muttered, laying her head back onto his shoulder.
Phillip pondered that for a moment. “You're talking about actually creating computer programs from scratch.”
She tilted her head, giving him an odd look. “They all use the same language. Only the platforms are different.”
Widening his eyes, he grinned. “O-kay.”
Warming to the subject, she started to explain in detail. “The code is in the pattern. These days you just have to put in the commandsâ”
He held up a hand. “Don't bother. It's all Greek to me.”
Suddenly Grace appeared in the doorway to the little hall that opened off the sitting room and led to the suite's two smaller bedrooms. “Mommy,” she said, rubbing her eyes with both fists, “where's the air fixer? I'm cold.”
Carissa bolted upright, shrugging off Phillip's arm in one frantic movement. “Uh. The air...”
“The thermostat is on that wall,” Phillip said, pointing, “but I've found that in this big old house it's sometimes best just to close the vents in certain rooms. I'll take care of it.”
“No, no,” Carissa insisted, beating him to a standing position. “We're fine. You can go now.”
Her pinkened cheeks clearly demonstrated her embarrassment at having been caught sitting with his arm around her, and now she was none-too-subtly dismissing him. Again. He took his time getting to his feet just to let her know that he didn't appreciate being sent away like a neighbor kid who had overstayed his welcome. Her hands fluttering like hummingbirds, Carissa went to escort Grace back to bed, but before she could reach her daughter, Grace ran straight for Phillip. As the girl raised her little arms, Phillip realized that she was about to launch herself. He didn't know whether to hold her off or pretend he didn't understand what she wanted. In the end, he simply caught her and swung her up into his arms.
Grace wrapped herself around him, her arms, legs and wiry little body clutching him. “You forgot my night-night hug,” she informed him, squeezing with all her might.
He laughed, hugging her back. “Here's a super-duper one to make up for it.”
“Super-duper!” she crowed, all but throttling him.
Carissa started forward, an anxious look on her face. Phillip met her halfway and handed off Grace with a smile and a pat for the girl's soft red head. Turning, he left as quickly as he could then. His heart felt too big for his chest, and he could have sworn that a tiny fist clutched a corner of it.
But what really shook him to the core was how right it had felt to hold Carissa Hopper in his arms, and how easily her problems seemed to become
his
problems. He'd called her
sweetheart
, of all things.
Maybe she hadn't noticed. Suddenly, he didn't want to face her across the dinner table, not after Grace had caught them all but embracing on the couch. He wondered what excuse he might give the aunties for going out and even went so far as to call his older brother, Asher, to see if he and Ellie had plans for the evening. They did, so Phillip called his younger sister Petra next, but it was her and Dale's bowling night. In sheer desperation, he telephoned his baby sister Dallas and offered to treat her to a meal at one of her favorite restaurants in thanks for her help with the kids that morning. She readily accepted, and though he had misgivings, Phillip preferred to risk Dallas's infamous prying than take a chance on sitting down to dinner with Carissa.
He need not have worried. Over their steaks, Dallas chatted about the children, saying that Tucker viewed him, Phillip, as something of a hero, which Phillip found flattering but suspect, and that Grace adored him, which made Phillip smile. He felt a certain fondness for the little girl himself. Dallas admitted that Nathan resented Phillip terribly but advised that the boy would eventually come around. To her credit, Dallas said nothing about Carissa, neither did she ask any questions about a possible relationship between him and Carissa.
Instead, he and his sister discussed his nonexistent job search and the continuing-education course she was taking over the summer. She warned him that their newly retired parents were going to be spending more time in Buffalo Creek than ever before.
“What makes you think so?”
Dallas smiled. “Asher's daughter, Marie Ella, of course.”
Phillip frowned. “What does our niece have to do with it?”
“She's their first grandchild, and the older she gets, the more difficult it seems to be for them to stay away,” Dallas answered wryly.
Phillip was horrified. “Surely, you aren't saying you think they'll move here from Waco!”
Laughing, Dallas said, “Stranger things have happened. But it's only sixty miles. I think they might content themselves with driving up a couple times a week.”
“We can only pray,” Phillip muttered, and Dallas laughed again.
Phillip loved his parents, but the last thing he needed was his father advising him on career choices and his mother pushing him to settle down.
Dallas changed the subject then, announcing that she was dating someone new. In the next breath, she stated calmly that she sensed it wasn't going anywhere, though she didn't know why. She seemed sad about that but not overly disturbed. Phillip understood all too well. He'd never had a relationship that lasted longer than six months, and the very thought of it made him sad.
What was going on with him and Carissa? He constantly felt the need to know what she was doing and that she was well, and he didn't like that.
He didn't like it at all.
* * *
Thanks to the dumbwaiter in the wall on the landing just outside the door to the master suite, Carissa and the children were able to enjoy a private dinner that evening. Carissa kept things low-key afterward by digging out a board game. After making certain that Nathan and Tucker each won a game and Grace came in second, Carissa allowed the children to watch some TV before starting the process of baths and bedtime stories. This necessitated some unpacking.
However, the children didn't appear inclined to hurry the process. They had lived with unpacked boxes for a long time already at their grandfather's; that apparently felt normal to them. At the same time, they seemed quite comfortable in their rooms, though Nathan complained about having to share a queen-sized bed with his brother.
“The Chatam ladies said we could bring in the bunk beds if you want,” Carissa ventured carefully, much to Tucker's delight.
“I want a princess bed like yours!” Grace declared, running into the room in a towel while trailing her nightgown behind her. She had been in love with the large sleigh bed in the master bedroom since she'd first laid eyes on it. A genuine antique, the thing scared Carissa. What if she accidentally damaged it? She didn't even want to know what something like that was worth.
“The bed you're sleeping in is just fine,” Carissa said, taking the towel to dry her daughter's back before pulling the nightgown over her head and helping her slip her arms through the sleeves. Carissa patted the mattress of the boys' bed, saying, “Hop up so we can read.”
“No, I want to read in the princess bed,” Grace persisted.
Before Carissa could insist that they all pile onto the bed in the boys' room, Tucker let out a yip and raced out into the short hallway, a giggling Grace on his heels. Nathan rolled his eyes but followed, the chosen book under his arm. Sighing, Carissa went after them. They had made it halfway across the sitting room when a knock came from the outer door of the suite, freezing them all in their tracks. Carissa's breath caught. Was that Phillip come to say good-night? If so, the children would be thrilledâunfortunately, so would she.
She remembered him crooning the word
sweetheart
to her earlier that evening when she'd fallen apart in his arms. She was sure he hadn't meant it romantically, but it had been so long since anyone had said anything even remotely romantic to her that she couldn't stop thinking about it.
“Come in.”
Disappointment hit Carissa when Odelia Chatam Monroe's frothy white hair appeared around the edge of the door.
“Are we inconveniencing you?”
“Not at all. You're always welcome.”
She opened the door and came in, her lime-green caftan fluttering like gigantic butterfly wings. Phillip entered right behind her. Carissa's heart fluttered at the sight of him. Oh, she wished he'd stay awayâand was extremely glad he wouldn't, whatever his reasons. She couldn't prevent a small smile of greeting.
He seemed to relax but remained silent as Odelia asked kindly, “How are you bearing up?”
Tucker screwed up his face. “Bearing up?”
“She wants to know how you're doing,” Phillip explained with a wink.
“It's been a long, difficult day,” Odelia said, “with your grandfather's funeral this morning and you not being able to go back to his apartment.”
To everyone's surprise, Grace suddenly burst into tears, wailing, “I want Grandpa!”
“Oh, darling,” Odelia crooned, even as Carissa went down on one knee to pull Grace into her arms.
Clearly embarrassed, Nathan poked his sister in the shoulder and hissed, “Shut it! He was always old and sick and about to die.”
“Nathan!” Carissa scolded.
“We all knew it,” Nathan insisted.
“You're right,” Phillip said, “but it's still sad.”
Nathan folded his arms and looked down.
“Can we stay here now?” Tucker wanted to know, clearly concerned.
“For a while,” Carissa said evasively.
“How long?” Nathan demanded.
“It doesn't matter,” she told him. “I expect all of you to be on your very best behavior, especially while I work.”
Nathan scowled, and Tucker frowned.
“Boys,” she prompted. “I want your word that you'll be on your best behavior. Otherwise, we'll have to find someplace else to stay. Do you hear?”
Nathan nodded reluctantly, while Tucker whispered, “Yes, Mom.”
Carissa gave Grace a squeeze. “That goes for you, too, young lady.”
Grace made a solemn face and nodded, then she looked at Phillip and broke into a wide smile, even as her tears sparkled on her cheeks. “I'll be good,” she said. “I promise.”
Phillip chuckled. “I'm sure you will.”
Smiling, Carissa dried her daughter's face with her fingertips, as Odelia moved to the sofa and sat down, gathering the boys to her.
“Perhaps, after a day like today, we should all have a word of prayer together.”
“Oh. Of course,” Carissa said, bowing her head.
She kept her eyes open, however, and saw that her children glanced at each other in some confusion. Had it been so long since they'd prayed together outside of church or around the dinner table? She promised herself that she would do better in the future. From now on, they would pray together every night. Resisting the urge to glance at Phillip, she listened as Odelia began to pray aloud, thanking God that Marshall was now happy and well in Heaven. She praised God for making it possible for her and her family to have the Hoppers as their guests and made it clear that they were welcome to stay as long as they liked. Finally, she asked that God's will be done in all their lives.