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Itty Bitty Faith

By Jennifer Sienes

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Chapter One

Alyssa
When I was young, Mama often accused me of being a dreamer, as if the notion would lead me down a sketchy path. Sad to say, she wasn’t wrong. I’d made the mistake of giving into powerful feelings of what my teen heart thought was love, and it forever changed my life. Junior year of high-school English, I learned a Langston Hughes quote that stuck in my mind—Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly. Mama might could’ve taken a page out of Mr. Hughes’ book, because she thought life was a whole lot better without the burden of such foolishness.
And if I yearned for more on occasion, I just shoved it aside and got on with my day. Dreams didn’t pay the bills or keep Jared in clothes—and at the rate he was growing, selling an organ wasn’t completely out of the question. It was good business was picking up. Of course, spring was the busiest season, so that helped some, too.
It was nearing supper time when I turned onto our street, and the first thing that caught my attention was an unfamiliar car parked at the curb. Who’d be visiting at this hour of the day? I flipped the visor down and rubbed at what soil I could from my face and neck, but I looked a hot mess anyway. Dirt was caked under my nails, and I didn’t dare take off my cap what with my serious hat hair. It was a pure mystery why the men didn’t flock for my attention. Nothing to be done about it now. I scowled at my reflection before slapping the visor back in place and climbing from the truck. Last thing I wanted was to be sociable.
I circled our craftsman-style house and snuck in the back door to the kitchen. Mama was pouring sweet tea into glasses, and she already had a tray loaded with enough cookies to choke a preschool class. Her head snapped up, and her face broke out in a smile when she caught sight of me.
“You’re just in time, Alyssa. Jared’s got himself some company.”
“Who is it?” Annoyance aside, Jared could use someone to lift his spirits. With his leg cast clear to his hip, he’d been housebound for the last few weeks. Just another example of what happens when we we’re foolish enough to follow a dream. Football wasn’t any kinder to him than Brandon Jamison had been to me. Mama hadn’t fared so well either, had she? If I believed in curses, I’d of thought we Mitchells had one clinging to us.
“One of his teachers.” Mama was staring at the three glasses, a frown marring her face like she was trying to figure out just how she’d make it from the kitchen to the living room without mishap.
I swallowed a groan. I’d have to face the visitor after all. It was that or clean up the mess that’d be left in her wake if she dropped the tray. And as luck would have it, there was more than a good chance she would. “I’ll take it, Mama. You gonna sit with them?”
She shook her head. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it.”
“Then who’s the third tea for?”
Nose wrinkling, she waved a hand in the air. “The teacher’s wife. Can’t recall either of their names for some reason.” Mama’s forgetfulness was a regular occurrence lately. She wasn’t but sixty-five, and I wasn’t about to entertain the notion she was losing her mind. Just busy looking after Jared, was all. Hadn’t I sometimes lost track of a person’s name the moment it was given to me?
“No worries, Mama. It’s not important.” I patted her arm before hefting the loaded tray. I caught the faint scent of body odor wafting from me, but it couldn’t be helped. “Once I deliver this, give me a little time to shower, and I’ll come in and help get supper started.”
I moved across the kitchen, past the dining table, and stepped into the cozy family room. Mama like to refer to it as the parlor because it sounded more southern. Didn’t make much difference what we called it; it was plain small. Three bodies was about all it could hold. Jared sat at one end of the couch with his casted leg taking up the rest of it. Mr. Wheaton, and apparently his wife, perched on the edge of the only other two chairs. Should’ve known he was the one visiting. Jared had a touch of hero-worship where his math teacher was concerned.
“Hey there, Mr. Wheaton.” If only I’d of had time to clean up some before making an appearance. Mr. Wheaton’s wife looked like she belonged on the cover of Cosmo, with pixie-blond hair and perfect skin. My glance caught sight of a protruding belly. Okay, maybe Pregnancy Magazine would be a better fit. She had the glowing face to go along with it.
Mr. Wheaton jumped up. “Let me get that for you.” He took the tray and set it on the coffee table. “This is nice of you, but you shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
I shrugged as heat warmed my neck. “I didn’t. Mama did.” I turned to the pregnant beauty queen and started to hold out my hand. Grimacing at the dirty nails, I thought better of it. “I’m Alyssa Mitchell. I’d shake your hand, but I just got off work, and I’m a mess.”
She offered hers anyway. “I’m Kate, and I’m not afraid of a little dirt. It wasn’t that long ago I was a dog walker. My claim to fame was keeping the streets of Manhattan clear of poop.” She grinned and squeezed my fingers.
I laughed. “I’d love to hear that story someday.” And I meant it. I folded my arms, effectively hiding my dirty hands, and turned to Jared. “How’re you doing, son?”
He shared an exaggerated groan along with an eye roll. “Bored out of my mind. Did you call the doc today to see when I can go back to school?”
I wrinkled my nose. “He already told you not until Monday after they shorten that cast of yours. Hounding him’s not gonna change anything. Besides which, I don’t even know how we’d cart you back and forth with your leg stuck out like that. Look on the bright side.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What’s that?”
“You got yourself plenty of time to keep up with your homework, and we’re only a few weeks from end of the school year.” If his scowl was any indication, he wasn’t buying it. I turned my attention to Noah Wheaton. “Thanks for stopping by. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna get cleaned up. I’m sure I must look and smell a mess.”
“It appears to me you’ve been working really hard,” Kate said. “What is it you do?”
Jared chimed in before I could answer. “Mom’s a landscape architect.”
I huffed out a laugh. “That’s just a fancy way of saying I’m a gardener.”
“Really?” Kate sat straight. “Do you do private homes?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. It’s all I do. I don’t have a degree or anything.” Unless a GED counted for something.
She nudged Noah’s arm and grinned. “When you have an opening in your schedule, I’d love it if you could come look at our place. Noah’s done a lot of work on the house, but the yard is atrocious.”
Noah chuckled. “Married less than a year, and you’re already taking over.” He turned his attention to me. “You’ll have to forgive my wife, Ms. Miller. Her New York is showing.”
Kidding aside, it was clear the two of them had a fondness for each other. Regret took hold of my voice, and I couldn’t do anything but offer a weak smile and nod. Would it of been like that with me and Brandon?
I escaped to the back of the house, collected some clean clothes, and took a quick shower. I felt like a whole new person when I emerged from the bathroom. The murmur of voices still came from the family room, so I used the back hall to get to the kitchen. Mama was sitting at the table nursing a glass of sweet tea and reading her Bible. Leaning on the Lord hadn’t done her much good, but she was a creature of habit.
On the brink of asking her what we were doing for supper, I caught something Jared said, and it drew me close enough to eavesdrop on his conversation with the Wheatons.
“…just seems unfair I don’t even know who he is, you know?” I couldn’t see Jared’s face, but he sounded dejected. Who was he talking about?
“If anyone can understand, it’s Kate.” Noah’s response was slow as if he was measuring the words before saying them.
“It’s why we started Reuniting Families in the first place,” Kate said. “The only reason I ended up here was because I was searching for my own father. I haven’t found him, but I feel as if God’s using my loss to help others with their own.”
A fist lodged in my throat, and it was all I could do to breathe. It’d been years since Jared asked about his daddy. Why would he bring it up with virtual strangers instead of me?
You know why. You’ve never told him anything, so why should he trust you now?
The truth of it had my face heating. If Brandon Jamison were standing in front of me at that moment, it would take every ounce of control not to choke the life from him.
#
Brandon
Didn’t matter the window shades were drawn clear to the sill, the South Carolina sun found its way into the room—mocking me. Way past time I should’ve been out of bed, but I couldn’t seem to make my body move. Instead, I laid flat on my back, mesmerized by the ceiling fan’s thwap, thwap, thwap, swirling the humid air around. Indecision had never plagued me before, but then this was the first I’d ever had a crisis of faith. It sucked the energy clear from my body and left me feeling as useful as a steering wheel on a mule.
“Brandon.” Ellie’s voice through the door was followed up by a knock. “You awake?”
Couple dozen years ago, if I ignored my little sister, she’d come barreling into the room. If I didn’t answer now, she’d slink off, all the while fretting over my sanity. We were both more mature now.
“Yep.” I flung the sheet off my body and sat up with a groan. “Just barely.”
“Decent?”
I glanced at my boxers. “Just barely.”
“Got hotcakes waiting on you with a side of bacon. You want I should bring up a tray for you?”
Coffee’s what I needed. Strong. Black. I yanked the t-shirt from the end of the bed and pulled it over my head. “Be right down.” It was one thing to crash at her place, it was another to have her serving me. She had enough on her plate what with her two girls and a husband to care for.
Made quick use of the high-end facilities and pulled on a pair of shorts before heading downstairs. The air was a good ten degrees cooler outside the bedroom. After years without it, I couldn’t abide air conditioning while I slept, so I’d closed off the vent. The sudden chill sent a shiver up my back.
Ellie and Steve’s house was another luxury I wasn’t accustomed to. Thick carpet down the hall and on the stair treads. Clean, scratch-free hardwood throughout the first-floor rooms. Furniture that went beyond practical. Stylish, comfortable, expensive. And don’t get me started on the kitchen. Sub-zero fridge, six-burner gas stovetop, convection oven—all in gleaming stainless steel. And a trash compactor. Trash compactor? Really? No stomping down the garbage to get that extra bag or two in.
Couldn’t complain about the tantalizing scents coming from that chef’s dream kitchen. When was the last time I had hoecakes? Couldn’t recall. No insult to Ellie, but no matter the luxurious surroundings, she’d be hard-pressed to cook up anything better than the Brazilian pão de queijo, feijoada, or empadas. Still, hoecakes and bacon came with a boatload of memories.
I slipped into one of the stools that surrounded the tall, square dining table in the nook off the kitchen. There was a vase of purple gladiolas in the center, which no doubt came from Ellie’s garden. The girl never did things halfway. It’d been a year ago Christmas the last time I’d visited, and somehow I’d forgotten how much of my little sister was reflected in her home. Might be a lesson in there somewhere when I had time to ponder it more.
“Are you hungry?” Ellie placed a mug on the thick placemat in front of me and filled it from a carafe. “If you’d rather just enjoy your coffee first, I can leave the food warming in the oven.” It was a tad eerie that she was so accommodating. I must’ve looked worse than I thought.
“No need to go to any trouble.” I offered a smile before taking a sip of the coffee. “Appreciate all you’re doing, but I’m a big boy, and I’m sure you got better things to do than fussing over me.” I cocked my head. Silence. “Where’re Steve and the girls?” It was Saturday, wasn’t it?
Ellie slipped into the chair across from me. “Steve took them out for breakfast, and then they’ll head over to the aquarium for a bit.” She took a sip from her own mug and eyed me over the rim.
I snorted. “Afraid I’d scare them the way I look?” I rubbed my beard. Truth was, I needed a good trim, and maybe an attitude adjustment. Anyone who thought missionaries had it all figured out only needed to take a gander at me. My own sister didn’t trust me with her kids.
She set the mug down with a scowl. “Of course not. More like they’d be too much for you. They haven’t seen you in forever, and Evie alone has about a million questions. As far as they’re concerned, you’re larger than life.” She shrugged and offered up a weak smile. “Far as I’m concerned, too.”
Heat shot up my neck, and I snorted. “What all have you been telling them?” Larger than life? More like a colossal failure. Course, it wouldn’t take much to impress a five- and seven-year-old. Ellie was a different story. She’d spent an entire year in South Africa on a mission trip years ago, so she ought to know there wasn’t a bit of glamour associated with it.
Her mouth dropped open. If Mama were here, she’d tell her to shut it before she caught herself a fly. “You’re kidding, right?” She blew out a breath. “You been making a difference for going on twenty years. Helping bring water to places like South Africa, Papua New Guinea, and Brazil. You’ve done more with your life than most people could even imagine.”
I shoved the mug aside and folded my arms on the table. And came crawling back home with not one idea of where I’d go from here. “It changes you.” Not always for the better.
“You talkin’ about Benadita?” She sniffed. “’Cause that was her failure, not yours.” The jut of her chin said she was ready to go to battle for my honor.
Wasn’t that a kick in the pants?
“Sheathe your indignation, Ellie girl.” I shook my head. “Was my own fault for ignoring the red flags the good Lord had flying all over the place. Rebellion has a way of biting us where it hurts.” Hurt might be a stretch—more like embarrassed and confounded. But if she wanted to believe that’s what brought me back to the states, it was a whole lot easier than the truth.
Ellie hopped up and moved to the oven. “If Steve up and left me like she did you, I’d hang him in a tree from his toes and leave him for the skeeters.”
Couldn’t help but smile at Ellie’s bravado. She couldn’t win an arm-wrestling contest with a young’un let alone muscle her a grown man up a tree. “Difference is, you and Steve are married. If he did you wrong, I’d hang him from his toes myself.”
She nabbed a potholder and pulled a plate of hoecakes and bacon from the oven and set it in front of me. “Y’all were engaged, weren’t you? Same difference.”
Last thing I wanted to get into was my foolhardy choice for a wife. “Don’t wanna talk about it. How ’bout we find a more interesting topic?” I popped half a slice of bacon into my mouth and chewed. Crispy, just the way Mama always made it. Brought back most every Sunday breakfast from my childhood. Mama always had bacon, hoecakes, and grits.
She plucked a piece of bacon from my plate and sat back across from me. “Fine.” She chewed and stared at me like she was trying to read my mind. “What’re you gonna do now?”
Her question drew a long sigh from me. Another matter I wasn’t keen on discussing. “I don’t know.”
Her eyes went wide. “You don’t know? You preached at me from the time I can remember to always, always, have myself a backup plan. Even said I should have a backup plan for my backup plan.”
I scowled at her. “Give me a break, will you? I just barely got my feet on U.S. soil, and I’m suffering from serious jet lag.”
She leaned closer and lowered her voice like the walls had themselves some ears. “Does Mama and Daddy know?”
“Seriously?” I barked out a laugh. “We’re not in high school, Ellie. I’m a grown man, been living on my own for going on twenty years, and I don’t need to answer to anyone but God Almighty.”
Her eyebrows shot up behind her long, blond bangs. “Okay then. Does He know?”
It took me a beat to puzzle out who she was referring to. “Long before I did.” Problem was, He wasn’t of a mind to share His plans with me. Left me high and dry without a clue.
“Well, you better figure something out, ’cause Mama and Daddy’ll be here in about four hours, and they’ll be asking the same questions I did.”
Lord, help me. Last time I felt so lost was when I had to leave behind Alyssa Mitchell for my first-ever mission trip. Had more feelings for that sweet girl than I’d ever mustered for Benedita. Could be the reason right there she walked out on me. Getting a taste of my own medicine.

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