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Where Hope Begins

By Heidi Chiavaroli

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Chapter One
Happy endings, and even happy beginnings for that matter, were a lot of work.
I craned my neck to look past where my sister Josie walked up the makeshift aisle of the Camden Library amphitheater. She wore a simple ivory lace dress. Her face glowed as she locked eyes with her soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle.
If only my husband would make an appearance, this day would be perfect.
Where was Josh? He wouldn’t miss Josie and Tripp’s wedding day. He wouldn’t.
I bit my lip, moved my focus to my younger sister. Josie was stunning. While she hadn’t lost all of her baby weight from giving birth to Amos last month, the extra pounds suited her. The sun shone through the near naked branches above, splashing off her shoulders and giving warmth to those in attendance. And Tripp stood at the end of the aisle all handsome and tall, his gaze caught up in his bride’s.
The wedding was a simple affair, just Josie and Tripp before Pastor Greg, surrounded by no more than fifty guests. No wedding party. No fancy reception hall. Nothing but a whole lot of family and love and the beautiful blessing of an unseasonably warm day.
I twisted in my seat again, willing my own handsome blessing to appear. This not-showing-up thing was becoming a frustrating habit.
Six-year-old Isaac squirmed beside me. “Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.”
I pressed my lips together. Ceremonies were tough for little boys to sit through, but this one had just started. I leaned down to whisper. “Are you sure? You went before we got here.”
“I really have to go. Bad.”
I glanced at Isaac’s twin, Davey, who seemed preoccupied with a loose thread on the cuff of his button-down shirt. “Okay.” I leaned around the boys to get my sister Lizzie’s attention. “Would you watch Davey?” I whispered.
“Sure thing.” Lizzie bounced Josie’s seven-week-old son, Amos, gently in her arms.
My brother Bronson tapped me on the back from where he sat behind us. “You want me to take him, Maggie?”
I looked longingly at Josie walking up the aisle with unusual grace, but shook my head. Isaac was my son. Inconvenient bathroom duty was part of being a good mom. “It’s okay, I got it. Thanks.”
When Josie reached the birch arbor at the end of the aisle, I led Isaac toward the library. Familiar faces smiled at us as we passed up the aisle, and I returned the gesture to family and friends in attendance—most who genuinely cared for the bride and the groom, a few who came for the sake of gossip.
I scrambled over the manicured grass in my high heels, trying to keep up with Isaac and praying he wouldn’t have an accident in his new dress pants. He’d always had a good bladder, but lately he had to go at every turn. Two nights ago, he’d even wet the bed—something he’d never done.
We slid into the library bathroom and I tapped my foot as Isaac released his bladder for an interminably long time. When he finished, I helped him tuck in his shirt. Hmm, strange. “Are these Davey’s pants? They’re a bit loose on you.” I checked the size on the tag.
He yawned. “I don’t think so.”
He was right. They weren’t. “Feel better?”
“I’m real thirsty.”
“I have a water bottle in my bag.” If I’d learned one thing in the fifteen months I’d been a mother, it was to be prepared. Snacks and wipes and extra clothes and drinks always came in handy. I clutched Isaac’s hand and pulled him back outside.
He’d fought a small stomach bug the entire week—a little nausea and dizziness. A bit cranky and emotional. Maybe I should have taken up my mother-in-law on her offer to watch the boys today. But I’d wanted the twins here. They belonged here. While I wasn’t certain Josh’s mother always thought so, I wanted to cement that truth in the boys’ heads—when I’d married Josh, I’d married the twins as well. I couldn’t love a child from my own womb any more than I loved these boys.
There truly was nothing better than motherhood.
Even if I did feel like a single mother much of time.
A wolf whistle sounded from behind, and I turned. Josh jogged toward us, his muscular torso filling out the suit he’d worn on our wedding day. My heart softened at his bright smile and off-kilter tie.
He pulled me in for a kiss, enveloping me in the scent of aftershave and Gucci cologne. For a moment, I sank into it.
“You look gorgeous, Mags.” He ruffled Isaac’s dirty blond hair, a mirror image of his own. “Hey, little man. How’d the soccer game go this morning?”
I didn’t let Isaac respond, instead I pulled them both toward the ceremony. “Where have you been?” I walked toward the courtyard amphitheater, the sight of him all handsome and charming dissuading me from any anger.
“I was working on something important and lost track of time. I’m so sorry, honey. I know Josie’s wedding’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”
I opened my mouth to tell him if it was that important, he would have been here. On time. But before the words poured forth, I snapped my lips together, a habit I’d adopted from Mom in our growing up years.
Josh was here now. That’s what mattered. When it came down to it, there was nothing in all the world I wanted more than this life, this husband, these two sons. I reached a hand out to Josh and the other to Isaac as I released my grudge and sneaked us back to our seats.
The wedding was simple and sweet, but not without tears, especially when the bride and groom said their vows. Pastor Gregg spoke on 1 Corinthians, pulling out a point about agape love that I thought to incorporate into the next Bible study lesson I planned.
“This is boring,” Davey whispered, oblivious that his voice was loud enough to reach the ears of all in attendance. A few giggles rippled through the group, and Josh ducked down to whisper to him.
I watched the pair, my heart overflowing. If only Josh had been at the field today to see Davey score twice. He would have been so proud. Video clips sent via text weren’t the same.
I leaned back in my seat, taking in the lacy train of Josie’s gown beside an arrangement of sunflowers and eucalyptus. She’d had quite a year, but this happy ending couldn’t have been more perfect.
My gaze landed back on the flowers beside the arbor. They needed to be transported to the reception barn after the ceremony. I needed to remind Amie to get some good pictures of the Orchard House barn after we set up the flowers—we’d transformed it into a rustic yet elegant reception area. I would put the pictures on the B&B website after creating a new page advertising our availability to host events.
Who knows? We might book some holiday parties. Josie’d say I was in over my head, but we could make good money with such events. The bed and breakfast had to survive. Our family had risked too much for it to fail.
Besides, Christmas would be beautiful at Orchard House.
Christmas. My favorite season. Last year had brought new kinds of magic with Josh and the boys. Stockings hung in our small, cozy living room. The four of us stuffed tight into a pew of our historic church on Christmas Eve, singing Joy to the World with the rest of my family tucked behind us. Hot chocolate and holiday cookies. The scent of pine mixed with dried oranges. The delight of the boys at finding their Elf on the Shelf, nicknamed Buddy, performing various and impossible acrobatic tricks.
I blinked to attention as the crowd clapped. I stood to join them, chastising myself for my runaway thoughts as Tripp kissed Josie.
Celebratory bubbles floated through the air, and the triumphant wedding march sounded out over the harbor. Josh squeezed my hand and winked at me. I wondered if he’d been reminiscing about our special day just over a year ago—the happiest day of my life. No doubt he hadn’t been ruminating about the antics of our Elf on the Shelf.
As soon as the newlyweds cleared the aisle, I scooted forward to grab up floral arrangements alongside my sister Lizzie. Planning the wedding on short notice meant we all pitched in. Having the reception at the bed and breakfast meant our family was in charge of both the decorating and the transporting of said decorations.
Josh untied a bold arrangement of sunflowers from a chair in the front, where my mother had sat during the ceremony. “You think we can take a quick ride together later? Maybe Lizzie or Amie could keep an eye on the kids?”
“Um…yeah, sure.” I shook my head. “Josh, I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything else right now until this is all broken down. Fifty guests may be small, but we have tons of food to put out once we get back. Can we talk about a ride later?”
He clapped his hands together, as if ready to coach his high school track team. “Yeah, absolutely. Whatever you need, Mags.”
I blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
“Mommy, I’m thirsty.”
I peered from behind a large arrangement of sunflowers, eucalyptus, and baby’s breath. “You finished all the water I gave you already, honey?”
He nodded.
Josh held a hand up. “I got this.” He scooped Isaac up and threw him over his shoulder. “I have a cooler full of water in the back of my truck. Let’s go, kiddo.”
Josh took the boys in his truck and I took the flowers in the SUV, making the short ride across the street to the Orchard House barn. I pressed the gas pedal of my Honda Pilot harder up the slight incline of the driveway of the bed and breakfast.
Merry mums embraced the walkway and porch. Hanging planters of begonias and trailing vines clung to their last weeks of life on the large winding veranda of the old Victorian. Historic turrets and gables spoke of bygone times that guests found irresistible. And off to the side and the back of the property, for acres and acres, an apple orchard rolled up a gradual hill, the trees’ branches naked of leaves for their upcoming winter hibernation.
I still couldn’t believe we’d pulled off the renovation and the start of a successful business in such a short amount of time. Not only had Aunt Pris allowed Mom and my siblings to move into the old home, but she’d let us turn it into a thriving inn. Mom’s long-held dream come true.
I parked beside the patio of the bookshop. Through the large windows, I glimpsed strings of lights alongside bookshelves. Josie still got googly-eyed over the bookshop Tripp had built. I couldn’t blame her. Together, they’d breathed life into the place.
Josh and my siblings helped me set up the flowers on the tables in the barn while Josie and Tripp took pictures at Curtis Island Overlook.
Aunt Pris’s old orchard barn had been transformed into a fairytale. We’d strewn lights along the rafters and decorated the tables with Lizzie’s flowers alongside centerpieces of books—both classic literature and classic comics in honor of the bride and groom’s preferences.
It was rustic and romantic and done on a whim, and I couldn’t think of anything more perfect for my untraditional sister.
The sun hovered over the horizon, giving way to the arrival of the bride and groom, toasting and eating, dancing and celebrating. I wiped away tears when Mom danced the mother-son dance with Tripp. Ed Colton, Tripp’s grandfather, danced the father-daughter dance with Josie. At one point, Tripp took a spin on the floor with baby Amos. That’s how it was in this group. Family, even if not by blood. Family, filling in the places where others fell short.
The twins fell asleep on a row of empty chairs pushed against one side of the wall and Josh pulled me close for Wonderful Tonight. I relaxed into the warmth of my husband’s arms, the tune and words of the music swirling within me. The scent of spiced candles filled the room, strings of lights on the rafters above created romance and elegance. Even Aunt Pris and Ed Colton took a turn around the dance floor.
“I’ve missed you.” I snuggled into Josh’s embrace, the ambience of the night and the glass of champagne we’d toasted with wrapping me in contentment.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Josh pressed his lips to the top of my head and pulled me against the length of his body. A stir of desire started deep in my belly. It had been too long. We’d missed one another for weeks on end. I’d been so involved in the opening of the B&B and keeping up with the boys’ schedules that on the rare occasions Josh was home, I collapsed into bed at night, sleep trumping any desire for intimacy.
What happened to the heat and passion of those first weeks of marriage? We hadn’t been able to keep our hands off each other, had savored those long sweet moments when the boys slept and nothing but the entire night lay between us. When had that stopped? We’d only been married fifteen months. How had the passion cooled so quickly?
“You want to get out of here?” Josh whispered in my ear, a slight tease in his tone.
I giggled. “I’m not leaving my sister’s reception to go have sex.”
“Not sex. Though I’m not saying I’m against that.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Seriously, Mags, I have something I want you to see. Something I’ve been working on for months. Just a quick drive.”
“Is it something you built with Tripp, because I could see it tomorrow.” Hopefully, I didn’t sound tired of his building obsession. I wanted to be supportive, but Josh’s summer job working for Colton Contractors had turned into a permanent part-time job. With school back in session, not only did he work as a history teacher and cross-country coach, he ran himself ragged on the evenings and weekends with Colton Contractors.
Maybe if he wasn’t always working so much, I’d stand a chance at getting pregnant.
I cleared my throat. The truth was, as much as having a baby excited me, it terrified me all the more.
“It’s not something for Colton. This…it’s for us. Please?”
My lips inched upward at the adorable plea on his puppy dog face. “Okay.” I looked around the room, spotted Amie dancing in the arms of August Colton, Tripp’s younger brother. “Let me ask Amie if she’ll keep an eye on the boys. We’ll be back before the sendoff, right?”
“Absolutely.”
I pinched Amie lightly on the arm. She lifted her blonde head off August’s shoulder. “Hey, can you watch the boys for a half hour? Josh wants to show me something.”
August grinned wickedly. “I’ll bet he does.”
Josh punched him in the arm. The two worked with one another enough at Colton Contractors to be comfortable. Clearly. “Get your mind out of the gutter, kid. The surprise.”
August sobered up. “Oh, the surprise...” He winked at Amie. “I’ll help you watch the little guys if you want.”
Amie shrugged. “Sure. They don’t look like they’re making much mischief right now.”
I looked at the sweet faces of our boys puckered in sleep, pressed to the cloth-covered seats of chairs we’d borrowed from the church hall. “I think you’ll be safe.”
“Great.” Josh grabbed my hand and led me out into the chill of the night towards his truck, the lights of the bed and breakfast playing with shadows on patches of green lawn and herb gardens.
I rubbed off the cold climbing my arms. “So August knows about this too?”
Josh held the door of his truck open for me and offered his hand to help me up. “I’ve been working on the idea since summer. August and I worked together almost every day back then, so I did mention it a time or two.” He went around to the other side and started the truck.
“Since summer? Now I’m curious.”
I didn’t miss his grin, and it stirred something like hope within me. Maybe all the magic hadn’t been lost after all. Maybe I needed to be more understanding. Patient. Maybe here, now, could be a new beginning for us.
###
Josh gripped the steering wheel tight with his left hand, the slight sweat of his other palm dampening the skin of his wife’s small fingers. He’d waited so long for this moment, had dreamed about it for months now. He hoped she liked it. He hoped she loved it.
He drove into town, past the closed shops and restaurants where the harbor shone beneath moonlight on his left. Once on Bay View Street, the denseness of the buildings gave way to sparse, tasteful inns and homes nestled within woods. He turned right on Limerock then left on Chestnut, his heart pounding out a steady beat against his chest. Maybe he should have waited until tomorrow morning. Better to see it all in the light. Then again, with the amount of work needing to be done, dark might be better.
“Where are we going?” Uneasiness coated Maggie’s voice.
“You’ll see.” He drove for a couple of minutes before turning right onto a gravel driveway. Divots caused the truck to lurch back and forth. He pointed his headlights toward his destination.
There. The moonlight helped as well. He imagined the rundown farmhouse restored to its former glory, the boys running around in the massive yard, Maggie and him sitting on the front porch to capture the amazing sunsets.
He turned to his wife, who squinted past the headlights.
“I—what is it?”
“It’s a house. Our house, actually.”
He studied the hazy outline of her profile in the dim light, willed her to say something.
She cleared her throat. “Our—but we have a house.”
“Not our house. Not really.” He’d purchased the small house they now lived in with his previous wife. A wife who chose a fierce addiction over him and their two sons. A wife who, by the time she’d given birth to the twins, had been a small fraction of the woman he’d married.
He thanked God every day for sending him his second chance at family and life by sending him Maggie. By saving his boys in the accident. He refused to mess any of it up again.
“Our house now is small. The yard’s no bigger than a pocket handkerchief. You deserve better, Maggie. So much better.”
She slid her hand up his arm. “Josh, I have everything I could possibly want. I don’t need a bigger house or yard. I only need you.”
“I want to do this for you, Maggie. For us. For the boys. Let me, please?”
She shook her head, her earrings glittering off the moonlight. “I don’t see how it can work financially. Despite the obvious work it needs, I’m cringing imagining the asking price.”
“I made an offer. They accepted it today.”
Her hand froze on his arm. “An offer? What did you offer them—a plate of cookies? Because that’s about all we have that’s of any value. Even if we sold the house, we don’t have enough equity in it to make a dent. Josh, what were you thinking?”
He gritted his teeth. She didn’t understand. She didn’t believe in his ability to provide for her and the boys. “I’ve been working like a madman saving, Mags. For this. I—I thought you’d be happy.”
“Honey, I’m happy with the house we have now. I’m happy when you come home in time for supper. I’m happy with being a family with you and the boys. I don’t need to live anywhere else, not now. Isn’t that okay?”
On the surface, he supposed it was, but just beneath the surface, just an inch deeper, it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all.
He dragged in a deep breath. “When we got married, I told myself it didn’t matter that we were in the same house as…you know.”
“You and Trisha.”
“Yeah. Me and Trisha.” He rubbed the back of his neck. This topic of conversation was foreign soil for them. Maybe it shouldn’t be. “I mean, it’s only wood and sheetrock, right? Some plaster and paint. It shouldn’t matter. But I’ve been struggling with it. Like a part of me is tied down there. I want to break free of it.” He lifted a hand, let it fall on the steering wheel. “I know I sound crazy right now.”
A sigh from the passenger seat. “No. No, not at all, Josh.”
She leaned her head back on the seat, and he studied her petite profile, her pert little nose and striking lashes and lips. Her hair fell in dark waves just past her shoulders, and he stopped himself from reaching out to touch the softness of it. His wife was beautiful. Not just on the outside, but on the inside. He wondered what a child of theirs would look like. God only knew she deserved a child from her own womb. But in some ways, he felt the house he’d shared with Trisha—the house where she’d shot up numerous times and hid her hard liquor inside the back of the toilet, the house where they’d argued and loved and cried and hated—had kept that happiness from them.
More than anything, he wanted to build a future with his own hands. Provide a place of safety and shelter for his boys, for Maggie, for whatever children God had in mind for them. One where he could come home and truly rest.
He bit his lip hard, looked out the side window into the dark. Maybe he was losing it. Where was his faith? His assurance in God to help him through his struggles with a strength not of this world?
Yet, even as he wrestled with such questions, a nagging prick of something bitter stirred within him. He tried to brush it aside. Did God expect him to forgive his long dead wife for all she’d put them through?
Maggie inhaled a quivering breath, the only sound other than the idle of his truck engine. “Okay, then.”
“Okay?”
“We buy the house.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes. If it means that much to you, then I’m behind it. But honey, please tell me we can change how things are. You’re never home. I feel like a single mother most of the time. I miss you. The boys miss you. I’m not sure a new house with no husband in it is the answer we’re looking for.”
He dove across the seat to kiss her. “Things will change, I promise, Mags. I already saved a good amount. Once we sell our house, we’ll be in good shape. I’ll give my notice to Tripp. And with the B&B booming, in no time you’ll be getting a raise for all the great work you’re doing.”
“Mom did say we’re booked into spring.”
He tapped her chin with his knuckles. “See? Everything’s going to work out. And we can redo the floor plan if you want. You can pick out kitchen cabinets and countertop, plumbing fixtures and all that jazz.”
“And we’re going to see you every night for supper?”
“Every night.”
Her smile warmed his insides. He didn’t deserve this woman—her love and understanding for not only him, but his sons. Their sons.
He leaned closer, caught the subtle scent of the lavender shampoo she used. “I love you, Maggie Acker. With every fiber of my being. Every day I’m more and more amazed by you.”
“I love you.” She reached for him and he drew closer, dropped his mouth to hers, gave her bottom lip a tease of a kiss. Her arms came up to the back of his neck and they sank deep and slow into one another, needing, aching.
“We have to get back to the kids,” she murmured between kisses.
“I’m not thinking this will take too long.”
She laughed, kissing him harder and deeper, running her hands over his chest and neck, driving him to distraction.
From the dashboard of the truck, his phone lit up. For a second, he ignored it.
“Josh...”
From her handbag, Maggie’s phone let out a loud ring. A coincidence?
He grabbed up his phone at the same time Maggie answered hers.
“Hello?”
It was Tripp. He almost didn’t recognize the panic in his friend’s voice. “Josh, you got to get back here. Now, man. Isaac—we were having trouble waking him up. His color looked off. Then he started throwing up, a lot. He said he couldn’t breathe. Hannah’s calling 911.”
Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the land they sat on, not the house he intended to build them. He had to get back to his son.
He didn’t remember hanging up the phone, was only conscious of Maggie panicked in the front seat, talking on speakerphone to Amie who assured her Isaac was in fact breathing, though his heart was racing and he was struggling to talk.
Josh pushed the gas pedal harder, peeling out of the gravel driveway. He squeezed his wife’s arm, wanting to comfort. “It’s going to be okay, Maggie. He’s going to be okay.”
He hoped God didn’t prove him a liar.
 

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