A House Full of Hope. Missy Tippens

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      Chapter Three

      After a Saturday-afternoon attempt—and failure—to speak with Redd, Mark knew it was sunglasses-off time. No matter what happened with his relationship with his father, he had to let the town of Corinthia know that Mark Ryker was a changed man. And that he owed that change to the grace of God.

       So on Sunday morning, he put away the sunglasses and donned the one suit he’d packed—more out of habit than because he thought he’d need it. He drove his rental car to the small church his mom had dragged Mark and Matt to when they were children.

       Growing up, their dad had worked all the time and their mother had taken charge of raising the kids and seeing to their religious upbringing. Of course, Matt, the sweet, obedient child, had gone to church willingly. Mark had been another story.

       He hoped his mother was looking down from heaven, seeing that her insistence and persistence had given him a foundation to fall back on years later, after his life fell apart. After he hit rock bottom and realized he could either die, or he could ask for help to climb out from under the guilt, anger and self-destructive behavior.

       As the church came into sight, the thought of how far he’d come nearly overwhelmed him. He blinked back tears and, for probably the thousandth time, thanked God he hadn’t gotten addicted to the alcohol he’d used to numb the pain. And that he’d hit bottom while at the New Hope Mission. With God’s help, the staff and volunteers at the shelter had saved Mark’s life.

       The white steeple of the Corinthia Church loomed bright and welcoming. Mark parked and approached the old redbrick building. As he walked in the door, the organist struck up the hymn “Amazing Grace.”

       How appropriate. He had to smile at God’s sense of humor. With that smile locked in place, he searched for familiar faces.

       Of course, the first person he saw was Hannah with her four children. And another woman beside her who—

       He stopped in his tracks, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. The woman was Hannah’s mother, Donna Williams.

       Hannah didn’t look up. She was busy whispering—fussing over the two youngest kids. As he forced himself to continue down the aisle, he vaguely noted neither husband had attended. He would need to make time to speak with Donna, to apologize to her, as well. Maybe after the service.

       As if Donna were a bloodhound smelling trouble, she looked right at him. It took her about two heartbeats to recognize him, but then her eyes flared wide. She froze in place, staring, her eyes lasering fury his direction. Her face reddened, and he feared she might explode with a torrent of words. Words she’d probably wanted to say to him years ago.

       He moved on, hoping to avert a scene with Donna. When he glanced to the right, old Mr. Jay from the bank gave a polite nod. Then Mark spotted his dad up front in what used to be his mom’s favorite spot, next to the organ. So he has come around and now attends church. This eased some of Mark’s fears, and he started down the aisle toward Redd.

       But about halfway, he stopped. What was he thinking? This was not the setting to approach his dad again. He would embarrass him. So he turned to the back to find a seat.

       A dumb move that meant he had to face everyone he’d passed.

       Gabe Reynolds, who’d gone to high school with Mark, sat with a teenage girl and a woman Mark didn’t recognize. The woman, pretty, pregnant and apparently his wife, smiled kindly. Gabe merely nodded.

       Two rows farther, Miss Ann Sealy, one of his favorite people from Corinthia, sat with a young man who looked familiar. Maybe her grandson. She waved but had a blank look, as if trying to place him. He’d thought of all the people in town, she would’ve been the one to give him a profuse welcome.

       His chest tightened as he realized how few people would even know him now. And of those who did, how they might view him with distrust.

       Shame scalded Mark’s face as he searched for the closest available seat. As he was sitting, he heard a commotion—Donna yanking her purse off the pew and stomping toward the door. Right before she exited, she glared at him.

       After the door banged closed, he couldn’t help but look at Hannah. She stared after her mother, mouth covered, eyes wide. СКАЧАТЬ