“Really?” Red leaned over the table to adjust the pink and yellow roses in floral teacups, her ponytail falling forward over her shoulder. “What for? Planning to move out of your parents’ basement?”
“Nah, haven’t gotten that lucky yet. I’ll be there to lend a hand until Zoe’s released from prison and can care for Griffin on her own.” He paused a minute to choose his next words carefully. “The board voted on a place for Agape House. Mom signed the final paperwork today.”
“That was fast.” She smacked him with a napkin. “Why didn’t you say anything, Ian James?”
“Well, it happened rather quickly. Once Mom learned my sister’s parole hearing would be in August, she’s been pushing them to agree on one of the houses Alec’s already shown them. So they made a decision last night and signed papers today. Thanks to community donations and corporate sponsorships, the house has been paid in full.”
“That’s great, Ian.” Red did a little dance and opened her arms. “Get over here so I can hug your neck. I know how important this is to your family.”
He gathered her against his chest again, her hair whispering against his chin. Could she feel his heart hammering against his ribs? “Yeah, thanks. Mom hopes the parole board will be in favor of releasing Zoe in August if she has a transitional home to go to.”
“Doesn’t give you much time to get a house ready.”
“Exactly. Which brings me to my next thing—the board chose an estate that’s structurally sound but needs some work—inside and out. Plus, Mom’s talking repainting, new curtains...stuff like that.”
“Makes sense. A fresh coat of paint covers a multitude of scars.” Red walked to the window and adjusted the blinds to allow light to pour across the chocolate-brown carpet.
Ian shoved his hands in the front pockets of his faded jeans. “She wants to know if you’re interested in the job.”
“But I have a job.” She reached for a yellow napkin and folded it into a fan before setting it on one of the white dinner plates.
“This is part-time and temporary. You have great budgeting and organizational skills to coordinate the volunteers helping with cleaning and painting. There’s a stipend set aside for whoever takes the job.” Ian reached for one of the napkins and copied Red’s folding. “Mom loves your repurposed furniture. She wants to buy pieces for Agape House and will showcase your work to help spread the word about your business.”
Agnes pressed a hand to her chest. “Ian, I don’t know what to say. It’s so generous. I love working for Josie and Nick, but opening Tattered Daisies Furniture has been a dream for so long.”
“This takes you one step closer to having your own storefront. Say yes.”
“Where’s the place?” She handed him a pitcher of ice water and pointed to the place settings across from her. “Please fill those glasses.”
This was the tough part.
“Well, that’s the thing.” Ice clinked against the clear glass as he filled the goblets halfway with water. He set the pitcher on the table and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. “It’s the old Miller estate on Liberty Street.”
Her head jerked up, causing her to slosh water over the edge of the goblet she had been filling. “Wait a minute...what?”
He snatched napkins off the table behind him and thrust them at her. Maybe she hadn’t heard him. “The Miller estate on Liberty. You know that gray house with the black shutters?”
“I heard you, idiot.” She slid the flower arrangements out of the way and pressed the napkins onto the spreading water. Flatware clattered against the plates as she cleared the table.
“Hey, what’s up with that?”
Shaking out a clean cloth, she glared at him as if she wanted to dump the water over his head. “You’re acting about as dense as a fence post. You asked me to help knowing how much I despise that place.”
He rubbed a damp hand over his face. He had expected her to be less than thrilled once she found out, but he had nothing to do with the building choice.
“It’s been over five years. I just thought—”
“Ian, I’d do almost anything for you...for your family. Especially after what your daddy did for mine all those years ago. But I can’t do this. And you of all people shouldn’t be asking me.” She bundled the damp tablecloth and wet napkins into a ball.
“Listen—”
She held up a hand. “No, you listen. I said I’d never step foot in that wretched house again.”
Ian rounded the table and stood in front of her. “I know your marriage to Bobby wasn’t what you had envisioned, but he’s not around anymore. You even went back to your maiden name. He has no hold on you.”
She dropped her eyes to the wet fabric in her arms. “That house holds nothing but bad memories for me. I’ve spent the past five and a half years putting that decade of my life behind me.”
“Have you?” He tipped her chin.
“Have I what?”
“Put it behind you? If so, then going back to that house wouldn’t be a problem.”
She pushed past him and headed for the door. “You have no idea.”
He reached for her arm. “I can’t do this alone.”
“My head is ready to jump on board, but my heart...well, they’re not on speaking terms at the moment. I know this is so important to all y’all. Just once I wish God would take a shine to answering one of my dreams.”
The longing in her voice needled his heart. “God has a dream bigger than your own, Red. What He gives you will be greater than anything you’ve ever imagined.”
“Not for a throwaway like me.” The desolation on her face twisted his gut. “You’re hoping to restore that place into a house of hope, but don’t y’all see? It will never be anything but a house of pain.”
She pushed past him and hurried into the main dining room. The lingering scent of her perfume wasn’t strong enough to mask the defeat that settled over his shoulders.
He had been so sure she’d say yes. But now he needed to find another way to convince her to agree—for all of their sakes.
He wanted her help with Agape House, but not just for restoring his family. More than that, he wanted to restore her heart and prove she was worthy of being loved.
* * *
If she were a real friend, she’d shove her regrets and bad memories into the past where they belonged and help Ian. As her family’s dearest friends, they’d drop everything if the roles were reversed.
So why couldn’t she do it?
Agnes shoved the tablecloths into the washer and slammed the lid, trying to blot Ian’s pleading eyes from her memory.
Being in that house would release the ghosts she’d managed to imprison so she’d have some semblance of a normal life.
Saying no was her only option.
Agnes returned to the kitchen to find it empty, but a light glowed from under Josie’s closed office door. Probably needed a few minutes with her feet up.
Josie’s pregnancy with Noah, her eleven-month-old, had been a piece of cake. With this new pregnancy, she dealt with a lot of morning sickness...or as she called it—all day sickness.
Agnes tried to convince her to go home, but she insisted on helping with the luncheon.
Agnes