“Eric? What are you doing here?” Hope had walked around the corner of a French-fry stand, surprised to find her dark-haired husband. She hadn’t expected him at this annual hospital fund-raiser.
“I came to see my girl.” With a smile, he reached down to pick up their six-year-old daughter, Beth, who had grinned broadly as she rushed into her father’s arms.
“Hi, Daddy. I’m glad you’re here. Maybe you could win me a goldfish.”
“No goldfish, sweetheart. They never live long, and it breaks your heart when they die,” Eric replied before returning his attention to Hope. “I was upstairs visiting Cassie, and she told me that you were down here at this carnival, so I thought I’d stop by to see Beth.” He paused. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, I realize it’s not my regularly scheduled day to see her.”
“No,” Hope said with a shake of her head. The wind caught her blond hair, blowing it around her face; she pushed it back. “I don’t mind. I’m just surprised to see you.”
She was very surprised, in fact, considering she and Eric had barely spoken since their separation six months ago. Exchanging children for visitation had been the extent of their involvement with each other until recently, when their older daughter, Cassie, had been hospitalized with pneumonia. Since then they’d seen each other more often, but their encounters remained brief, consisting mostly of passing each other coming and going from the hospital room, and discussing Cassie’s improving condition when necessary. Basically, they avoided each other as much as possible. Actually, Hope had to admit, Eric was the one doing most of the avoiding, which was probably for the best if she was to have any chance of getting him out of her heart.
“What are you doing here, anyway? Trying to keep this daughter of ours entertained?” he asked with a teasing pull on Beth’s blond ponytail.
“Something like that,” Hope replied. “I thought this little carnival would be fun for her.”
Eric nodded. “And are you having fun yet?” he asked the little girl wearing a yellow blouse and matching jumper with decorative sunflowers on the front pockets. Beth was a beautiful child, Eric thought for the millionth time. She looked just like her mother.
“Yeah! Look at those stuffed animals over there, Dad.” Beth pointed to a row of booths offering various games and prizes. “The one where you throw darts at the balloons can win a fat green frog.”
“Living or stuffed?” Hope asked immediately. She didn’t like the idea of a backyard funeral for a deceased frog later in the week. Or worse yet, the thing might actually live.
“Stuffed, Mom. Why would I want a real frog? They’re too yucky to have for a pet.”
“Good. I’ve trained you well,” Hope remarked, and saw the flash of amusement in her husband’s dark gaze.
“Let’s go see if we can win one, Beth,” Eric suggested. Then he looked directly into his wife’s blue eyes, something he had resisted doing whenever possible since they’d separated. “Maybe your mother would like to come with us.” He spoke to Beth while searching Hope’s face for the response.
She hesitated, then nodded in uncertain agreement Spending time with Eric would not be easy. She might enjoy it—too much.
But Hope walked with them to the blue booth with bright green frogs painted all over its walls. It took five dollars and ten darts, but Beth came away from the game a happy little girl with a fat frog tucked under each arm. They’d won an extra one for Cassie.
Then the three of them walked together, with Eric and Beth engaged in conversation. The two were discussing something about school when Hope realized she hadn’t been listening closely to what they were saying. She’d been walking along silently, thinking too much about her life with Eric. If the Lord had brought them together, how had they managed to go so far astray?
“You ready to go home, babe?” Eric inquired. Beth nodded her head slowly, as though tired.
“Mom? You ready to go, too?” her daughter asked.
“Yes, hon. I’m ready,” Hope replied.
Eric picked Beth up again, and she rested her head on his shoulder as he walked with Hope the short distance to where her red van was parked.
“Daddy? Can’t I ride home with you in your truck?” she asked. “Please?”
Eric’s black pickup was about a dozen spaces away in the next row over. He looked from the vehicle to Hope. “If it’s okay with your mother.”
She smiled. “Go ahead. I’ll see you at home.”
“Okay, Mom. See you later!” Beth responded. Eric reached to open the door of the van for Hope while holding their daughter in his other arm.
Hope moved past him and climbed into the vehicle. Then she slid her key into the ignition.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking back into Eric’s dark gaze.
He nodded without speaking, and closed the door for her. Then he and Beth headed toward the truck. Hope watched them go as she started her van and drove out of the lot.
The “home” Hope was headed toward was the house owned by Ed and Grace Granston, her mother- and father-in-law. They had invited Hope and the girls to stay with them during Cassie’s bout with pneumonia. Hope was dividing her time among the necessities: teaching, looking after Beth, and being with eight-year-old Cassie at the hospital every night. Staying with Eric’s parents had seemed like the best solution at the time she’d agreed to it. But now, as she neared the two-story white home, she wondered if she’d made the right decision. She’d known she would be around Eric, now and then, if she stayed with his mother and father. But it hadn’t happened—until today.
She parked her van in the driveway and turned off the ignition just as Eric pulled in beside her. Hope took a deep breath. “Lord, please help me get through this,” she whispered in the silence of her vehicle.
Maybe she and Beth could go upstairs and find something to do. That way, Eric could visit his parents, and Hope could keep her distance from him. She needed to do that, if she was going to let him go. Being near Eric again only reminded her of how much she loved him. And she’d found no provision for dealing with that in the separation agreement she’d refused to sign.
Eric and Beth were halfway to the front steps when Hope got out of her vehicle and walked past Eric’s truck. There was a stack of clothes on the seat of the pickup, she noticed. Could he be bringing laundry for his mother to wash? Possibly—but she didn’t really think so. It didn’t seem like something Eric would do.
Hope walked around the rear of the van. She pulled off her sunglasses and pushed wispy blond bangs from her forehead, just as she saw Beth run into the house ahead of her father. But Eric stopped and waited while Hope walked up the concrete steps to the porch. He held the front door open, glancing in her direction with curiosity. She rarely had been so subdued in their “together” days, she recalled. He was probably wondering why she was so quiet now.
Hope moved past him into the large house. His parents’ home, she reminded herself. She suddenly felt almost as though she were trespassing. Maybe living here temporarily wasn’t such a great idea. Still, even if just for the children’s sake, it seemed to be her best option right now. And sometimes, for no explicable reason, it felt to Hope as though the Lord wanted her there.
“I’m sorry, Hope. I haven’t even asked how you are,” Eric said.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
“Did you teach today?”
“No.” Hope turned to look at him. She knew that she should attempt to carry on this discussion with him, if