Authors: Debra Clopton
“It's not like any man is actually going to marry you, not with three kids in tow. One, okay. Two, maybe. But
three?
No way.”
Shrugging those memories aside, she ran inside to change clothes, pack her bags and get on with this life that God had dealt her.
Unfortunately, getting away proved more difficult than she had hoped. When she came back downstairs in her jeans, she found the Chatam sisters at the door, shaking hands with departing guests. Good manners dictated that she join them, of course, which left no chance of slipping away without explanations to everyone, including her uncle and aunt, who argued that tonight of all nights she should stay.
Carissa stuck to her guns, however, and finally got the children, along with their luggage and Grace's safety seat, loaded into the Chatam's town car, Phillip behind the wheel. They waved goodbye as the car pulled away from the mansion, Grace blowing kisses and calling out to Dallas, “'Bye, bffn!”
Carissa exchanged a puzzled look with Phillip over that, but he merely shrugged, obviously having no more clue about what
bffn
meant than she did.
Despite the short drive, the closer they got to the apartment, the more subdued the children became. Carissa steeled herself and put on a brave face.
“It will be good to be home, have our own place again, huh?”
“Grandpa won't be there,” Tucker pointed out softly as Phillip parked the car.
“I know,” Carissa told him consolingly, “but tomorrow we'll start clearing out things, and you and Nathan can have your own room. You'll like that, won't you?”
“I guess.”
She looked at Phillip and found his jaw clenched tight. “Okay,” she said brightly, hoping that he wouldn't point out how much more luxurious Chatam House was than the apartment. “Everyone lend a hand. Pop the trunk, please, Phillip.”
He exited the car and did as she asked. Carissa tried to make a game of it, herding the children to the back of the sedan and assigning totes. They'd accumulated a surprising amount of stuff in their short time at Chatam House. They trudged along the walk, with Carissa in the lead and Phillip bringing up the rear of their little ragtag caravan.
When they reached the apartment door, she found a folded note taped over the keyhole. Quickly removing the small slip of paper, Carissa tucked it into a pocket before Phillip could see it, intending to read the note in private. Whatever it said, she would deal with the matter on her own. Perhaps the short letter contained nothing more than words of condolence. She didn't think so, however, especially when she slid her key into the lock and found that it wouldn't turn.
Carissa tried the key again, but the lock refused to budge. Phillip pushed forward.
“What's wrong?”
“The key doesn't work.”
“You sure it's the right one?” he asked, taking it from her and trying it himself.
“Absolutely,” she mumbled, slipping the note from her pocket. While he tried to unlock the door yet again, she read the words on the paper, her heart pounding. “Um, I have to speak to the manager.”
Phillip's head snapped around. “What?”
She made an attempt at a smile. “Would you wait here with the kids? I won't be long.”
Pivoting on one heel, she hurried down the sidewalk and around the corner to the on-site manager's apartment. The thin, sixtysomething woman with long, graying hair and thick eyeglasses wore a series of interchangeable knit pantsuits as a kind of work uniform.
She smiled at Carissa and said bluntly, “You must have realized by now that we changed the locks.”
“But why?”
“You can't stay, I'm afraid. You're not on the lease.”
“Guests are allowed for six weeks at a time,” Carissa pointed out. “We have at least a couple weeks left.”
“Not once the legal tenant vacates the property. Legally, we could have put your belongings out yesterday, but given the circumstances, we want to be as compassionate as possible.”
Panicked, Carissa tried to think through her options. “Listen, I can continue to pay the rent, if that's what you're worried about.”
The manager shook her head. “This is a subsidized apartment intended for disabled tenants, and I have a lengthy waiting list of approved applicants. I'm sorry, but I can't let you and your children stay.”
The breath left Carissa's lungs in a rush. She couldn't believe it. The very thing she'd feared most had just come to pass.
Homeless.
She and her children were now truly homeless.
Carissa felt a presence at her back and knew without looking that it was Phillip. She could only wonder how long he had been standing behind her. Biting her lip, she dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from lashing out at him. She turned and coolly said, “You were supposed to stay with the children.”
“Nathan is perfectly capable of watching the other two for a few minutes,” he replied before asking the apartment manager, “Could you let us into the apartment long enough to pack up some personal things tonight? If so, I'll return tomorrow to take care of everything else.”
“What are you doing?” Carissa whispered under her breath.
“Just what has to be done,” he answered, proving that he'd overheard everything.
“I'll get the key,” the manager said, disappearing inside her apartment.
“You can't just take over,” Carissa declared, trying to keep her voice low when she really wanted to yell at him.
“I'm not trying to take over. I'm just trying to help,” he told her, his copper eyes so soft with compassion that she had to look away. She felt his big hands hovering near her upper arms, but thankfully, he didn't touch her. If he had, she would've crumbled into pieces. “We'll figure this out, okay? One thing is certain, though. You can't stay here.”
She gulped, feeling perilously close to hysterics as the truth sank in. She and her children were actually homeless.
“Dear God,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “
Help me!”
Chapter Four
“I
t's all right,” Phillip said, slipping an arm about her. “Everything's going to be all right. You'll see. It's going to be a surprise for the kids, though.”
The kids.
Carissa gasped, looking up. “What are we going to tell them?”
“We'll just say that we talked it over and decided that Chatam House is the best place for everyone after all.”
Carissa frowned.
We,
he'd said.
“They'll want their own things,” Phillip went on, “toys, books... Nathan said something about a pillow the other day.”
“He's had it since he was a baby,” Carissa murmured, her mind awhirl with all that had to be done. “It's hardly even a pillow now, more like a pillowcase with some feathers in it.”
“Whatever. He wants it, so he should have it with him. Don't you think?”
Carissa nodded, hardly aware of what she was doing. The utilities had to be cut off, the mail forwarded, bills paid.... What were they going to do with the furniture? The door opened behind her, and the manager briskly stepped out.
“Sorry. Phone always rings when you're busiest.”
“No problem,” Phillip told her. “We appreciate your cooperation.”
“Oh, I'm happy to help,” she said, setting off. “Wish I could do more, but it's out of my hands, you understand.”
Glumly, Carissa fell in behind her. Phillip kept pace, his hand hovering in the small of Carissa's back as if he feared she would turn tail and bolt. The kids were plucking leaves out of the shrubbery and pelting one another when they got back to her father's apartment. The manager unlocked the door but didn't enter.
“I can just wait, if you won't be too long, or you can stop by when you're done, and I'll come back and lock up then.”
Phillip looked to Carissa. “Give us thirty minutes.”
“I'll just visit the tenant in 307, then. She always welcomes an unexpected chat. You can pop over and knock on the door when you're done.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as the manager left, Carissa took the children into the living room and sat down with them, explaining that they wouldn't be staying after all.
Little Grace looked around her before commenting solemnly, “I don't want to stay, not without Grandpa.”
Nathan glared at Phillip and declared, “I'm not going back with
him!
”
“We're going in our car,” Carissa said huskily, too exhausted to argue with him, “back to Uncle Chester and Aunt Hilda.”
Tucker rose and wandered about the room, touching this lamp and that photo. “Grandpa would want us to go,” he said sadly. Phillip went over to him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Your grandfather wanted you to have a safe, comfortable home, Tucker. That's all he cared about.”
“I wish he could go with us,” Tucker whispered in a choked voice.
“I know,” Phillip replied gently, “but his house is in Heaven now.”
Tucker glanced around. “It's probably nicer than here.”
“Much nicer.”
“It's probably even better than Chatam House, isn't it?” Tucker said, looking up at Phillip.
Nodding, Phillip told him, “The Bible says that where your grandpa lives now, even the streets are paved with gold.”
“Oh, that's just a story,” Nathan scoffed.
“I don't think so,” Phillip refuted blandly. “It's written in the Bible.”
“Where?”
“I'm not sure,” Phillip admitted, “but we can look it up.”
Nathan rolled his eyes to demonstrate his skepticism.
Carissa cleared her throat and said, “Let's figure out what we want to take with us tonight. Okay?”
“Toys?” Phillip suggested, pointing toward a box labeled in marker with that very word. Tucker brightened noticeably. “And don't forget your pillow,” Phillip said to Nathan, who shoved his nose in the air then stomped off in the direction of the bedroom.
Carissa looked around her, trying to think. “I guess I need to pack the dressers.”
“Are there any empty suitcases?” Phillip asked.
“Dad probably had a few.” She got up and took a deep breath, bracing herself.
“Want me to look around for them?” he offered kindly.
Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she wasn't quite up to looking through her father's things. “Yes, thank you. Through there.”
He went off toward her father's bedroom, leaving her to go to the room that she'd shared with the children these past weeks. They had managed to squeeze a full bed, which she and Grace had been sharing, and bunk beds into the small space, along with a pair of dressers. They barely had room to walk, and the arrangement made Carissa feel like a horrible failure, but she'd happily go on enduring it to have her dad back. But no. He walked on streets of gold now, as Phillip had said. She wouldn't bring him back just because she missed him, especially given how he'd suffered at the end.
Phillip arrived with several suitcases and began helping her fill them. He concentrated on the kids' things while she took care of her own. She heard Nathan snap, “Don't touch that!” and looked over to find him yanking a framed photo of him and his dad from Phillip's grasp.
“Maybe you could help with the boxes,” she suggested to Phillip, her tone apologetic.
He gave her a quick smile, nodded and left the room. Nathan ducked his head, busily cramming clothes into an open bag. She decided to let the rudeness pass. They were all under a lot of stress at the moment.
When the dressers had been emptied, she got trash bags from the kitchen and filled them with shoes and the contents of the bathroom. Then she returned to the living room to find that the children had stacked up numerous boxes that they wanted to take. Phillip was nowhere to be seen. She nixed several and was arguing with Tucker over another when Phillip wandered out of her father's room, her dad's open Bible in his big hands. He seemed to be reading even as he walked over to the threadbare sofa and lowered himself onto the edge of it.
“I found this on Marshall's bedside table,” Phillip said. Flipping a red ribbon, he added, “This passage was marked.” With that, Phillip began to read. “âThe wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The twelve gates were twelve pearls. The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.'” As he read, the children had gathered around him, and he underlined the last part with his fingertip so they wouldn't miss it.
“And that's where Grandpa is?” Tucker asked, looping an arm around Phillip's neck.
“I think so,” Phillip said. “The Bible says all believers will spend eternity in Heaven. I tell you whatâwhen you all get settled, we'll ask my aunts. They'll know, and they'll be glad to tell us.”
Nathan said nothing, just frowned in thought. Phillip replaced the red ribbon and closed the Bible then passed it to Nathan, saying, “Why don't you hold on to this for your mom?”
Nathan seemed surprised, but he folded the Bible tightly against his chest. Phillip calmly rose and rubbed his hands together.
“Okay. Let's get this show on the road.”
They packed up both vehicles in a matter of minutes. At the last moment Tucker remembered something he wanted to take with him to Chatam House, so they walked back to the apartment. Inside the tiny coat closet was his grandfather's old cap, one Tucker had worn several times while playing. Tucker smoothed the interior band before flipping the cap onto his head and nudging the bill slightly to the side. When he looked up, tears stood in his big blue eyes. He turned in a circle, looking around the place, and Carissa knew he was saying a final goodbye. Her heart stopped.
Suddenly, Tucker threw himself at Phillip, latching on to Phillip's leg. She knew just how Tucker felt. He wanted an anchor, somethingâsomeoneâsolid and strong to hold on to in a world that suddenly felt rudderless and bleak. Grace let out a little hiccup of a sob and lifted her arms. Without a word, Phillip picked her up and cradled her against his side. While Carissa just stood there trembling inside and yearning for some of that strength, Phillip comforted her children. Worse, she looked at Nathan and saw the same hunger in his face before he turned and stomped off. Shaken to realize that her nine-year-old had more fortitude than she did just then, Carissa brusquely ordered the other children to head to the van with their brother while she went to fetch the manager. As the woman locked up the place, Phillip renewed his promise to return the next day to empty out the apartment.
“But where am I going to put everything?” Carissa demanded as they hurried to the car.
“There are attics at Chatam House.”
She shook her head. She wasn't moving in lock, stock and barrel. If she did, she might never convince herself to leave again, and the Chatam sisters were just dear enough to let her and the children stay on indefinitely.
“Well, I have a storage unit,” he told her. “It's barely half-full. You can start with that, and I expect they have empty spaces for rent at the same place. We'll work something out.”
She decided that she would spend the remainder of the afternoon making some calls about new apartments, and if she couldn't find something affordable, well, better that she should take advantage of
him
than his aunts.
“See you at Chatam House,” he said, moving toward the town car.
Nathan put his back to the van and folded his arms. Clearly, he didn't want to go back to Chatam Houseâor anywhere else that left him in close proximity to Phillip. Carissa couldn't blame him. Phillip Chatam was dangerous, not just to her heart but to those of her children. What other choice did they have, though, except to return to Chatam House?
She could take her children to a motel, but even the cheapest one would drain her meager funds and delay when they could move into a suitable home of their own again. No, as badly as she wanted to avoid Phillip, she had no real choice but to accept the hospitality of the Chatams. Still...she didn't have to be right under his nose, did she?
Carissa thought about that as she drove her children back to Chatam House, and by the time they arrived, she had her argument well planned. The Chatam sisters and Kent were sitting in the formal parlor. Carissa sent the children to the sunroom then asked her aunt and uncle to come in. As soon as they arrived, Phillip explained the situation. Then Carissa spoke.
“We hate to impose on you any further, and the truth is, we'll be much more comfortable with Uncle Chester and Aunt Hilda in the carriage house.”
Odelia blinked at that. She'd traded black onyx earrings and pleated, paper-white linen trimmed in wide black edging for purple amethysts and yard upon yard of floral chiffon. Magnolia, on the other hand, wore the same dark print cotton dress that she'd worn to the funeral; she'd traded her pumps for penny loafers, however. Only Hypatia had not changed a stitch. Still wearing gray silk, matching pumps and pearls, her silver hair twisted into a sleek chignon, she looked as neat and fresh as she had at breakfast that morning.
“Well,” Odelia said consideringly, “I suppose we could have Carol move into the house here to make room for you.”
Carissa frowned. She hadn't meant to put anyone out of place.
“Of course, you'd still have to share a room with Grace,” Hypatia said.
“And that's with Grace sleeping on the floor,” Hilda put in. “There's no room for more than a half bed in either room upstairs in the carriage house.”
“Oh, we have bunk beds for the boys,” Carissa said quickly.
“They're attic rooms, sugar,” Chester pointed out. “The ceiling slopes too much. Bunk beds won't fit. Full beds won't fit, for that matter.”
Feeling as if she'd swallowed a lead weight, Carissa bowed her head in defeat.
“The master suite is much more suitable,” Odelia said brightly. “And Phillip will help you settle in. Won't you, dear?”
“I'll start unloading the car,” he replied, before leaving the room.
Chester and Kent got up to follow. Magnolia leaned over to pat Carissa's hand.
“The master suite is best for all concerned,” she said. “It's large and airy. You're welcome to set up your bunk beds, if you like.”
Carissa nodded, hoping that wouldn't be necessary, and choked out, “Thank you. You're very kind.”
“It's just practical, dear.”
A sound from the hallway gave Carissa an excuse to escape. “I'd best check on the kids.” Popping up, she hurried away, determined not to cry.
This whole day, which she had started by burying her father, had just been one disappointment after another. It was as if God was determined to force her into close proximity with Phillip Chatam, no matter what she wanted. She couldn't make any sense of it. She couldn't even try.
Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow she would take another look at her options and figure out what to do next.
* * *
As Hilda went to the kitchen for the tea tray, Odelia settled back against the cushions of the elegant antique settee and lifted her eyebrows at her sisters.
“Still think I'm making mountains out of molehills?” she asked once she could be sure they wouldn't be overheard.
Magnolia sniffed but conceded, “We have seen God move like this before.”
“I'm just not certain that Phillip is cut out for a ready-made family,” Hypatia said doubtfully.
“You saw the way he reacted with Grace and Tucker in the midst of their grief,” Odelia argued.
“And they with him,” Hypatia admitted, “but that doesn't mean there's a romance developing between Carissa and Phillip. Besides, I'm not convinced that he and Carissa could support those children.”
“Mmm, and the oldest boy is none too keen on him,” Magnolia pointed out.