A Hickory Ridge Christmas

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 on her stomach. “I love being a trendsetter.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Steffie said, pausing for effect before she added, “but if I was newlywed, I wouldn’t be drinking the water here.”

Immediately the other women turned to Tricia Williams Lancaster. Married just over a year to Michigan State Police Trooper Brett Lancaster, Tricia definitely still qualified as a newlywed, though she already had three children with her late first husband, Rusty.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Tricia said.

Tricia turned her head as if in search of a new topic, and her face brightened as a square-jawed man with a military haircut and a football player’s shoulders squeezed through the doorway.

“If that’s not Trooper Joe Rossetti in the flesh and in a church on a Sunday morning,” Tricia said with a grin. “God does work in mysterious ways.”

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