A Family Reunited

Autore

Jennifer Johnson

Letto da

16,5K

Capitoli

Autore

Jennifer Johnson

Letto da

16,5K

Capitoli

🏰 Historical 😌 Second Chances 🏙️ Contemporary

Chapter 1

“We’re pregnant!”

Pamela Isaacs’s jaw dropped as she looked up at her older brother, Kirk, and his wife, Callie. Squeals and cackles erupted as Pamela’s daughters, parents and younger brother enveloped the expectant couple in hugs. They deserved a baby. Callie had fought and defeated breast cancer two years ago. Pamela knew they’d yearned for a child, and yet jealousy tickled her heart.

Pushing away her selfishness, she smiled and enfolded her sister-in-law in an embrace. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t believe it. When I went for the checkup, I never dreamed...”

Pamela grabbed both of Callie’s hands in hers. “You’d receive the perfect surprise.”

Callie nodded as the family headed into the living area and settled into seats. Pamela’s mother, Tammie, clasped her hands and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “God is so good!”

Pamela forced herself not to roll her eyes. If she heard one more word about the awesomeness of God, she was going to hurl. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in Him. Having been raised in a Christian home and having worked with creation on the family farm, she didn’t deny His existence. But life had taught her not to trust Him when things got rough.

“When are you due?”

“How’d you find out?”

Questions flitted from each of the family members, and Pamela watched as her eight-and nine-year-old daughters dropped to the floor, one on each side of Callie’s legs. Their faces shone with delight and eagerness to hear about their new cousin. Emma and Emmy had never had the opportunity to be around relatives their own age, even though their father had siblings who were only a few years older than the girls.

Jack. Just thinking his name made her blood burn through her veins. Her so-called husband had been gone eight years. Eight. Over the past year, he’d called and hung up on her many times over; then today he’d called asking to see their daughters.

He had no right to see the girls.

“Twins!” Her dad, Mike’s, voice boomed through the room.

Pamela blinked away her thoughts and stared at Kirk and Callie. Kirk waved a sonogram through the air. His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, though October was too early to turn on twinkling lights.

“You’re having twins?” Emma exclaimed.

Pamela studied her older daughter. With long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked so much like Pamela had at that age. Around her ears and the nape of her neck corkscrew curls escaped the band. Taller than most of her peers, she sported a gangly physique and a lot of freckles. Her crystal-blue eyes shimmered with delight.

Callie nodded. “We are.” She tapped Emma’s nose and then Emmy’s. “One baby for each of you to hold.”

Emmy jumped off the floor and yelled, “Woo hoo!”

Emmy was only a year younger than Emma and so close in appearance, except that Emmy sported deep dimples in each cheek when she smiled. The girls could almost be confused for twins except that Emma had had a recent growth spurt and now stood a full head taller than her younger sister.

“I can’t believe it.” Mom grabbed the sonogram from Kirk’s hand, and she and Dad looked at the picture. She waved her free hand in front of her face as her deep green eyes glistened with tears.

“With all the noise and smells those two will produce, I reckon I’ll have to stay in Knoxville.” Ben chuckled. Her younger brother was in his last year of school at the University of Tennessee.

“No way.” Kirk elbowed him. “Your help is gonna be needed around here when the babies come. Somebody’s gotta run the farm, the orchard, the play area and petting zoo. Mom and Dad and Pamela already take care of the gift shop, café and bed-and-breakfast.”

Ben’s features hardened. Pamela knew Kirk made the comment in jest, but it was obvious her little brother didn’t want anything to do with working in the family’s business. Not that she could blame him. She had two more years until she graduated from college. Only two. Then she would have her accounting degree and could hightail it out of Bloom Hollow, Tennessee. She could take the girls anywhere she wanted and rebuild their lives together.

Most likely she’d stay in Tennessee, would probably even find an apartment close by. But she’d be in her own place, not living in the small cabin behind her family’s bed-and-breakfast that doubled as the main home. She wanted to make her own way. Be her own person. Not just a member of the Jacobs Family Farm.

Her dad and brothers became engrossed in conversation. She couldn’t hear what they said, but it triggered a memory of Jack standing with Dad several years ago, discussing how to work out the farm schedule. Jack had promised to work certain hours, but inevitably several days a week something else came up. He always had a reason, and he never lied about where he was or what he was doing. The problem was that a drunken stupor was usually the reason he failed to do his job.

The phone conversation she’d had with Jack earlier that day traipsed through her mind.

“I’m sober, Pamela. I want to see the girls. And you.”

At first his voice had covered her like a warm blanket, deep and smooth. She’d found herself wanting to see him. Then common sense kicked in, and she snapped back to reality. “You don’t have the right to see the girls or me. You haven’t been around for eight years.”

“I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but God has changed my life....”

She scowled at the memory. He’d found God. Why did everyone she knew think they could say God’s name and suddenly all was right in the world? When Callie had shared about the loss of both of her parents to cancer and then had had to endure the disease herself, everyone had been so quick to chime in, “God is sovereign. He’ll see her through.” When Pamela’s high school friend Greta had died in a car accident, the very same people had done the same song and dance.

If God was so sovereign, why did He allow the bad things to begin with? Why couldn’t life be simpler for those who loved and followed Him? She’d been full of faith and love when she and Jack had married right out of high school ten years ago. She’d trusted God with everything. But then Jack had started drinking, and he’d left. And life was never the same.

* * *

Jack Isaacs shoved the $15,000 check in his front jeans pocket. Two years and ten months. That’s how long he’d saved to send Pamela the check. How long he’d been sober. How long God had been in charge of his life.

He couldn’t deny the hurt when Pamela had returned the letter and check a few months ago. And he’d fought uncertainty since their phone call earlier that day, when she’d emphatically rejected the idea of meeting with him. He hadn’t expected her to run back into his arms, but he’d believed she’d at least accept the money.

A slow grin lifted his lips. It had been nice to hear her voice. Maybe when she saw him in person, she’d take the cash. Excitement swelled in his chest at the idea of seeing Pamela again. He’d worn out the wallet-size high school senior picture of her that he’d clutched while praying God would keep him from touching the bottle when temptation arose.

He looked around the small bedroom he’d called home for almost three years. Clean white walls. Firm twin-size bed. Small wooden desk and chair. Four-drawer dresser that was missing two handles. Everything he owned had been shoved into a beat-up suitcase that he’d already put in the trunk of his car and the cardboard box that still sat on the bed.

When he’d first come to God’s Hands, he’d wanted only one thing: a place to sleep for the night. He’d drunk himself into a stupor and hadn’t eaten a real meal in over a month; he’d just wanted somewhere warm to lay his head. The tent he’d been sleeping in on the outskirts of town had done its job well, but winter had rolled around and the weather had been unbearably cold at night. Somehow, that December night, he’d happened on this particular homeless shelter. And God had more than one night’s sleep planned for Jack’s life.

Blowing out a long breath, he lifted up the cardboard box, walked outside to the used economy car he’d purchased, placed his belongings in the trunk then headed back inside.

God’s Hands had been his home the past three years, and though it seemed strange, he ached with the knowledge that in a few hours’ time he would leave the shelter and the state of Texas for good. He might return on occasion to visit his parents, but they lived several hours away, so most likely today would be the last time he’d see the shelter.

Jermaine, the director, placed a dark, calloused hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You gonna help serve breakfast for old times’ sake?”

“Without a doubt.”

Jack followed his mentor into the brick building. He’d miss the sixty-year-old man who’d led him to the Lord, sat with him as he fought through his addiction and helped him find a job and get back in college. He’d never be able to repay Jermaine for all he’d done in Jack’s life. If asked, Jack knew what Jermaine would say. “Just live your life for the Lord. That’s all I want for you.”

Jermaine said those very words to everyone who walked through the doors of God’s Hands. And Jack had witnessed a lot of transformations in people. Once their bellies were full and they’d had a good night’s sleep, some went right back to the world they’d vowed to leave, but some stayed true to their commitment to God. With the Lord’s help, Jack would always be one who stayed true.

“You wanna serve or greet?” asked Jermaine.

Jack didn’t have to think about it. He wanted the opportunity to say goodbye to the regulars. “Greet.”

Jermaine nodded. “Figured as much.” He patted Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t you head out of here ’til I can say a prayer with you.”

“I won’t.”

While Jermaine headed to the front entrance to welcome the people who came for a warm meal, Jack made his way to the kitchen to give one last hug to the volunteers. After several hugs and handshakes, he spied Stella, Jermaine’s wife, scooping servings of pudding into cups. In one swift motion, he dipped his finger into one of the cups, then licked off the chocolate.

Stella gasped, turned and smacked the top of his hand. He laughed, and Stella shook the scoop in front of his face. “Jack Isaacs, what do you think you’re doing?”

He sobered. “Come to say goodbye to you before it gets too busy out there.”

Tears welled in Stella’s eyes, and she shook her head. “I’m glad you’re going home to your girls, but I sure will miss you.”

Wrapping her in a hug, he said, “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

She wiggled away from him, and Jack bit back a grin. Her heart was as big as the state she served, but she didn’t like any displays of affection. Scooping up the cup of pudding he’d already sampled, he placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. “We will keep in touch.”

She swiped her eyes with the back of one hand and shooed him away with the other. “Sure. Sure. Now head on outta here. We got a job to do.”

Jack made his way back to the dining area. Several regulars had already filtered into the room. He grinned when he spied Jermaine standing at the front door greeting each homeless person with a kind word and a handshake. He planned to invite people in the same way when he started his position the following week as director of a homeless shelter in Tennessee.

His heartbeat sped up again at the thought of heading back to the Volunteer State. He couldn’t wait to see his daughters. So many times over the past two years and ten months he’d longed to hightail it out of Texas, head back to Tennessee and get to know his girls. But he couldn’t. He’d had to conquer his addiction, and he’d had to finish school and get a job. Proving to Pamela that he’d changed would be a difficult feat, but he was finally ready to take on the challenge.

In only a few more hours, he’d Skype his younger sister and brother to tell them and his parents goodbye; then he’d hit the road and head toward a life he wished he’d taken advantage of eight years ago. He could never get back those years with Pamela and his girls, but he planned to spend the rest of his life making it up to them.