lying on the floor watching her every move, Hope braided her wet hair to counteract the curl. A few months ago, she had stripped the black out of her hair and dyed it a lighter color. The orangy result, while not exactly what she’d been striving for, was striking, and a near match for the freckles that dotted her broad nose and high cheekbones. Her café-au-lait skin tone came from the mix of African Jamaican via her father and Caucasian from her mother.
Roger came up behind her as she brushed her teeth, nuzzled a kiss on the back of her neck, and crooned, “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
She spat toothpaste froth into the sink. “How much is lately?”
“Always the wise guy.” He slapped her gently on the rear and turned on the shower.
Glancing in the mirror, she flinched at the scar on his back. No matter how often she saw it, she could not keep from shuddering, at least inside. A perfect body, a perfect career, destroyed in seconds by a bullet.
“You want breakfast?” She raised her voice over the moaning water pipes.
“I already fried some bacon and onion. By the time you scramble up some eggs, I’ll be ready.” Roger was known for fast showers.
Hope dressed in khakis with a woven belt, tucked in a collared polo shirt, and, already on the move, slid her feet into well-wornhuaraches. Once in the kitchen she let Adolph out into the walled garden with Celia, then went about fixing the rest of their breakfast. Humming the tune Roger had started in the bathroom, she took the grated cheese from the fridge and added it to the frying pan of scrambled eggs.
Adolph whined outside the back door to be let in.
“What, did Celia run you off again, or did you smell breakfast?” she asked as she held the door open for him.
Tail wagging, Adolph walked past her, sniffed at his dish, raised his head to check the air for flavors, and, tongue lolling, stopped in front of the stove.
“Yours is in your dish.”
His tail thwacked across her knees, as if to say, “I don’t want what’s in my dish. I want what’s on the stove.”
Hope shook her head. “I don’t care how much you wag. The vet said dog food only.”
Adolph sat down and scratched his ear with a back foot, the foot thumping on the floor practically rattling the windows.
Just as Hope was putting the plates on the table, Roger entered the kitchen. “Perfect timing.”
Hope nodded toward Adolph. “Tell your four-footed friend that table scraps are no longer his divine right.”
“Sorry, Adolph, the boss has spoken,” Roger said, his voice grave.
Just as Hope sat down, the phone rang.
“Let the machine pick it up.” Roger bowed his head. “Father God, we thank Thee for food, for home, and a work that we pray always honors You. Amen.”
Hope raised her gaze to look at the man across from her. Succinct and to the point, that was Roger. Thank You, Father, for this man. Thank You for his love and for his strength.
She’d taken two bites when Celia knocked on the back door andentered before they could invite her. “They’re here early.” Hope groaned, took another bite, and put her napkin on the table.
Roger put his hand over hers, staying her. “They’re early. They can wait. You eat.”
“Yes, dear.” Hope smiled. His thoughtfulness always stirred a warm glow around her heart.
“Now, that’s a first,” Celia said beneath her breath, then poured herself a cup of coffee. “You want me to get started on the paperwork?”
Roger spread grape jam on his toast. “No, they said ten, and it’s only eight thirty. They’re going to have to learn that we have lives too. Have you had breakfast?”
Celia shook her head. “I ain’t hungry.”
Adolph plunked himself down beside her, his head just beneath her fingertips. When he didn’t get the ear scratches he was hinting for, he lifted his head and whined.
“You surly mutt.” Celia’s fingers tapped the top of his head. “So what’s on the list for today?”
Hope
Roger came up behind her as she brushed her teeth, nuzzled a kiss on the back of her neck, and crooned, “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
She spat toothpaste froth into the sink. “How much is lately?”
“Always the wise guy.” He slapped her gently on the rear and turned on the shower.
Glancing in the mirror, she flinched at the scar on his back. No matter how often she saw it, she could not keep from shuddering, at least inside. A perfect body, a perfect career, destroyed in seconds by a bullet.
“You want breakfast?” She raised her voice over the moaning water pipes.
“I already fried some bacon and onion. By the time you scramble up some eggs, I’ll be ready.” Roger was known for fast showers.
Hope dressed in khakis with a woven belt, tucked in a collared polo shirt, and, already on the move, slid her feet into well-wornhuaraches. Once in the kitchen she let Adolph out into the walled garden with Celia, then went about fixing the rest of their breakfast. Humming the tune Roger had started in the bathroom, she took the grated cheese from the fridge and added it to the frying pan of scrambled eggs.
Adolph whined outside the back door to be let in.
“What, did Celia run you off again, or did you smell breakfast?” she asked as she held the door open for him.
Tail wagging, Adolph walked past her, sniffed at his dish, raised his head to check the air for flavors, and, tongue lolling, stopped in front of the stove.
“Yours is in your dish.”
His tail thwacked across her knees, as if to say, “I don’t want what’s in my dish. I want what’s on the stove.”
Hope shook her head. “I don’t care how much you wag. The vet said dog food only.”
Adolph sat down and scratched his ear with a back foot, the foot thumping on the floor practically rattling the windows.
Just as Hope was putting the plates on the table, Roger entered the kitchen. “Perfect timing.”
Hope nodded toward Adolph. “Tell your four-footed friend that table scraps are no longer his divine right.”
“Sorry, Adolph, the boss has spoken,” Roger said, his voice grave.
Just as Hope sat down, the phone rang.
“Let the machine pick it up.” Roger bowed his head. “Father God, we thank Thee for food, for home, and a work that we pray always honors You. Amen.”
Hope raised her gaze to look at the man across from her. Succinct and to the point, that was Roger. Thank You, Father, for this man. Thank You for his love and for his strength.
She’d taken two bites when Celia knocked on the back door andentered before they could invite her. “They’re here early.” Hope groaned, took another bite, and put her napkin on the table.
Roger put his hand over hers, staying her. “They’re early. They can wait. You eat.”
“Yes, dear.” Hope smiled. His thoughtfulness always stirred a warm glow around her heart.
“Now, that’s a first,” Celia said beneath her breath, then poured herself a cup of coffee. “You want me to get started on the paperwork?”
Roger spread grape jam on his toast. “No, they said ten, and it’s only eight thirty. They’re going to have to learn that we have lives too. Have you had breakfast?”
Celia shook her head. “I ain’t hungry.”
Adolph plunked himself down beside her, his head just beneath her fingertips. When he didn’t get the ear scratches he was hinting for, he lifted his head and whined.
“You surly mutt.” Celia’s fingers tapped the top of his head. “So what’s on the list for today?”
Hope
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