His Hope

Goodnight and Sweet Dreams

On the opposite side of the door, Dexter laid his forehead against it.

Jesus Christ, the low light, was playing tricks with his eyes. When Hope had jumped up and a mane of glorious kinky black hair covered her, she'd looked like an exotic creature of myths, or an Egyptian Goddess, and his body had reacted. Since Margret's death, he had only enjoyed the carnal side of his nature a couple of times, and that was when he'd traveled to the city on business. His loneliness had driven him to the bar for a cold Guinness and some female company, from time to time.

The women he’d hooked up with had been in it for the fun. They just wanted a good time, no strings attached. He’d made it his mission to stay away from women who wanted more – more of his time and attention, but not the kids he had. After his last fling, he'd made up his mind to find a wife. He was tired of the one night with no strings attached flings. It was not who he was. He’d hardly dated prior to meeting and falling in love with his now deceased wife. To live the life of a playboy after her death would be disrespectful to her memory. He'd promised himself the next woman he would sleep with would be his wife.

Now, seeing Hope without her ramrod stiffness and ugly headscarf, he'd had a crazy inclination to ride out and find Pastor Samuels so he could start posting the bands. Dexter was suddenly feeling the itch to enjoy the pleasures of a woman’s body.

Inhaling slowly, he lifted his head and turned when David let out a wail. His brother immediately joined him.

"They are tired, dad. You want me to feed them and put them to bed?" asked Daneka.

"Ah, sure, that sounds like a good idea."

"You okay, Dad?"

"Yep. I'm fine." He glanced up at the loft. "Junior! It's supper time!"

Dexter heard shuffling, but his son didn't answer.

"Answer me, Junior!"

"I'm coming, hold your horses."

Dexter lifted David and Daniel into their respective highchairs he'd built with his own hands and Daneka set two small bowls of stew in front of them. "It's hot boys. Let me and your sister help you."

The twins both nodded and said in union, " OK, daddy."

Daneka sat beside Daniel and blew on a spoonful of stew before lifting it to the baby's mouth. Dexter did similarly with David.

They paused in their ministrations and looked up when they heard Hope's door open. He was surprised to see she had combed her hair back into its severe bun and become the epitome of an old maid again.

Junior climbed down the loft ladder and plopped on one of the benches that ran the length of the table.

"Junior, bless the food," he said softly.

Junior gave his father a grim look, but obeyed, saying a simple prayer of thanksgiving.

Dexter looked at Hope. "Pass me your bowl, Hope, and I'll fill it with stew. Daneka, put a cornbread on her plate."

The meal progressed in stilted conversation and the twins got increasingly cranky. Finally, Dexter said, "They are ready for bed, Daneka."

"Okay, dad, I'll take them and then come back and clean the dishes."

Hope interjected, "Please, let me help. What would you like me to do?"

Daneka looked from her dad to Hope. "You want to help me put them to bed and read them a story?"

"Yes, very much so, and then I'll help clean the dishes."

Dexter nodded his approval. "Junior and I are going to check the animals and finish a few chores. Come on, son."

Junior opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it when he got a stern look from his father.

* * *

Hope followed Daneka as they carried the babies to the bedroom they shared with their sister. Once inside the room, Hope’s heart skipped a beat. The little girl had done her best to decorate a room as small as Hope's own. However, in this room, pages from a catalogue had been torn out and tacked on the wall beside the bed. Mostly, they were pictures of pretty girly things. An old trunk sat at the foot of the same type of narrow bed and she knew instinctively that the quilt covering the bed had been lovingly sewn by Daneka's mother. Daneka pulled the quilt back and laid one of the twins down, before reaching for the second twin and doing the same. She kissed both of them on the cheek, before asking, " Do you want Miss Hope to tell you a story?"

David nodded sleepily, while Daniel answered, "Yes."

Daneka stepped back. "You go ahead and sit beside him, Miss Hope. I'm gonna wet a cloth to wipe their faces."

Positioning herself next to the babies, Hope reached and caressed their thick wooly hair. Her students loved when she made up stories on a whim for them rather than read from a book. One they particularly liked, was about a prince rescuing a princess from the Forest of Doom.

She waited for Daneka to return before reciting the fairytale. Daniel twisted away from his sister when she tried to wash his face and hands, and Hope reached for the cloth, pretending it was the prince's royal cape. Daneka sat at the foot of the bed and listened, enraptured by the story.

Even though both Daniel and David had fallen asleep immediately after she’d tidied them, Hope continued the tale. About half of the way through, she smiled, "We’ll stop here tonight, and continue the story tomorrow night."

"I love the story so far! I just know the prince is going to fall in love with the girl and make her his princess!" Daneka exclaimed.

Hope smiled, "You'll find out soon enough. Now, let's go clean those dishes."

Daneka looked toward her door. "Hey dad, Miss Hope tells great stories."

"Yes, I heard."

Color tinged Hope's cheeks. How much of that story he’d heard?

Long into the night, Hope laid in her lumpy bed and thought about each family member—the twins, so young and helpless, needing the care of a mother; Daneka, shouldering responsibilities that belonged to a mother; Junior, heartbroken and bitter over the loss of his mother; and Dexter, selflessly thinking of the needs of his children, but longing for his first wife.

Hope turned her head to her pillow and silently wept. She wasn’t sure how she would fit in or how she could help them.