He was still coming up with something to say to Rebecca when he heard another voice in the background.
“Sweetie, do you remember that I told you not to answer the phone?” Hannah said.
“But it’s…Mr. McBride.”
After some muffled voices and footsteps, Hannah’s voice came on the line. “Would you please stop calling here? I had to unplug the machine.”
“I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“You and Grant—what you did was unforgivable. This time you hurt my child.”
“Our child,” he corrected, though he couldn’t argue with the rest of what Hannah had said. “I didn’t want Rebecca to find out that way any more than you did.”
“So why’d you tell her?”
“You were there. You know I didn’t intentionally—”
“Anyone who knows the first thing about parenting knows that children hear and see everything that’s going on around them.”
“Whose fault is it I don’t know—” He managed to stop his retort before he said, “How to be Rebecca’s father.” Hannah was at fault for that, but as far as he could tell, there was plenty of blame to go around. He wasn’t going to make any progress by pelting her with accusations.
After counting from ten backward, he tried again. “Okay, this isn’t about fault, but she knows now. We have to deal with that…together.”
“I’ve already dealt with that.” Her voice screeched at the end of her sentence. “Just like I’ve dealt with everything else in her life. Neither of us needs you or your help.”
“Hannah, I might have let you do it before, but I’m not going to allow you to cut me out this time.”
“Me cut you out?” She became quiet for a few seconds, as if she realized she’d said more than she intended. Finally, she sighed. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
“No! I haven’t done enough.”
What happened to that patience he’d just found? But the fact remained: He hadn’t done anything to care for Hannah or to provide for their daughter’s needs. That he hadn’t been given the chance didn’t change the bottom line.
“Don’t call anymore, Todd. I won’t answer.”
The connection went dead as she clicked off the phone. He didn’t bother dialing again. She would probably just leave it off the hook, anyway, and even if she didn’t, she would be screening his calls.
Todd ignored the hopelessness threatening to take hold in his heart. He couldn’t give up, not when there was so much at stake—more now than even a teen romance that had seemed so real at the time. This was about their daughter, and Rebecca deserved to have a father in her life.
A week before, Todd never would have imagined himself admitting this, but he wasn’t sure he even wanted a future with Hannah. At least not this Hannah. She was cold and selfish and spiteful. Is she also hurt and scared? Todd wanted to ignore that charitable thought. He didn’t want to forgive her yet, and that appeared to be just what his heart was tempted to do.
“Lord, why do I have to be the one to keep taking the first step?” he whispered.
But the answer was so clear in his thoughts it was as if God Himself had spoken the words. Because she can’t. For whatever reason, Hannah couldn’t be the one to offer an olive branch. Though his hurt was new, his wounds fresh, Hannah had been harboring hers for a lot longer, allowing them to fester instead of heal. Forgiveness was never easy, but he guessed that it became harder to give over time.
Still, he couldn’t allow Hannah’s problem with forgiveness to keep him from knowing his daughter. Every day that passed with Hannah nursing her resentment was another day he and Rebecca couldn’t be together. That was as unacceptable as Hannah avoiding him by refusing to take his calls.
Suddenly, an idea began forming in his thoughts. Once before, Hannah had been able to avoid him when she’d wanted to, but this time there were no parents, oceans or continents separating them. Just a few traffic lights, the Huron River and a tiny, downtown shopping district.
Since the choices of destinations were limited in Milford, even outside church and school, friends crossed paths whenever they bought a quart of milk at Breen’s IGA, picked out end tables at Huron Valley Furniture or even grabbed a Coney dog or some Thai food from one of those new joints on North Main.
If seeing friends and neighbors regularly was so easy, he imagined that the opposite was true, as well: Avoiding someone a person didn’t want to see would be almost impossible. Because Hannah was on a tight budget, she probably wasn’t in the market often for new end tables, but she needed milk frequently, and she probably craved a good Coney once in a while.
Todd finally understood John Mellencamp’s 1980s anthem, celebrating life in a “Small Town.” Milford was a small town, all right. Hannah was about to find out just how small.
Chapter Five
Hannah had tried her best to make it as normal a Sunday morning as possible. She’d hurried Rebecca through their morning routine, and she’d actively contributed to the discussion in her young adult Sunday school class. Even now she was chatting with several women in the vestibule as she usually did, but nothing about this morning or the last few days had felt normal—not with Todd appearing like a case of indigestion everywhere she went.
The conversation continued around her, but Hannah couldn’t help but divide her attention between it and the door where Andrew Westin greeted members and guests. She expected one of them to be Todd, and she couldn’t decide whether she would be more disappointed if he showed up or if he didn’t.
“Hannah, are you with us?”
She turned back to catch Julia Sims grinning at her, excitement dancing in her dark, heavily lashed eyes.
“You’re missing the news.”
“What news is that?”
Charity McKinley, Julia’s half sister, who was the golden opposite to her raven-dark looks, wore the expression of the cat who had swallowed the canary. Charity reached out her hands to Steffie Wilmington and Serena Jacobs, encouraging those two and several others into a tight circle.
“It’s finally happened. I’m pregnant,” she said in the quietest voice possible for someone fairly bursting with excitement.
“Congratulations,” Hannah said, stepping forward to hug Charity. She was thrilled that God had blessed her friend, who’d longed for a child since she and Rick had married four years before.
“That’s wonderful,” Serena agreed. “Rick must be thrilled.”
Though it seemed impossible, Charity’s smile widened. “That and he’s turned into this broccoli-and-whole-grains-toting drill sergeant. ‘Here, sweetheart, eat wheat germ. It’s for the baby.’” She imitated her husband’s deep voice but she finished with a laugh.
“Was your mom thrilled with the news?” Hannah asked her.
“She’s already knitting booties.”
“I’m happy for her, too.” It was great to see healing in Charity’s relationship with her mother, Laura Sims, after their painful rift from a few years before. But rather than dampen Charity’s excitement by mentioning difficult memories, Hannah changed the subject. “Looks like our church is having a population explosion.”
“Look what you started,” Julia said, shaking an index finger at Serena, whose swollen belly announced her new arrival, expected in March.
Serena rested her hands