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Jeanne gathered her long blonde tresses and wrapped them atop her head in a messy bun—it would not do if hair got into anyone’s food. After plucking two aprons off the rack, she joined Renee as the man in charge gave a short tutorial on each one’s duties.
Renee was assigned to the potato salad station, and Jeanne distributed yeast rolls and homemade cornbread beside her sister. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks that those in charge of the kitchen didn’t expect her abilities to be more on her first day. Never had she been one who stayed in the house to help her mother prepare meals. She preferred being on the Internet trying to figure out how she could manage to get into college without her parent’s funds. Her lifelong dream was to help young women and tweens navigate life with God’s influence. Most were broken, or injured by men, one way or another. So her cooking skills were minimal at best.
During the school year, she’d volunteer for the after-school programs to aid the girls in the lower grades with homework. Her parents didn’t mind her activities, and she felt pressured to find a boyfriend after graduation. Actually, she wasn’t interested, but the guys around her were too goofy. Besides, she longed to hone her skills in counseling the young. Jeanne had run across her heart’s desire when she was a sophomore, and the school’s counselor asked her to assist during the after-school programs. Jeanne saw firsthand how these young people lived in the community outside her own church’s providence. Her heart broke. And ever since, she’d volunteered as much as possible of her time and efforts to help the counselor.
Needy men snaked around the walls. An outside line began at the door of mostly women, with a few men dotted here and there in between. The hopeless expressions across faces were disheartening. Jeanne lifted a smile, hoping it would offer some comfort, as they partook in a hot meal and the warmth of human kindness, even for a short while.
Her bones shivered as if she stood outside alongside these folks in the frigid weather. She glanced at the limited number of volunteers and saw she could not abandon her post to supply a carafe of hot coffee to stave off the bitter cold. Instead, she worked more quickly so they would get inside the center sooner.
Renee scooped up potato salad and reached across to place the portion on a man’s plate, but she froze mid-motion. Jeanne patted her sister’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, sis?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, nothing at all.”
The guy in front of her seated his cap further over his eyes and moved out of line.
“Ree, are you sure you’re okay?”
Renee puffed out a heavy breath, dropped the utensil, and rushed through the kitchen’s double doors.
Jeanne signaled a volunteer. “Please, take over for us. I’m sorry. I need to find out what’s happening with my sister.”
Not waiting for a response from Madison, she set off in a trot after Renee, dodging the kitchen staff all the while. On her first step out the door, her right foot slid on an icy patch, but she skidded to a stop.
Renee leaned with her back against a wall, hands on her knees. Her labored breath concerned Jeanne. Irrational thoughts frightened her, and she quickly rejected them—hoping her sister’s reaction was not a physical ailment.
“What’s wrong?” She stroked Renee’s back.
“I think...I think Roland’s here at the shelter—he’s homeless. He’s come home.” Renee straightened and met Jeanne’s concerned gaze.
“Really. That’s great news. Where was he? Let’s find him, sis.” She tugged on her sister’s sleeve.
“No...wait.” Renee shook her head. “It’ll be easier if he came home on his own. He took the first steps by being here, that’s important. Something happened within the family before Winston and I were married. He never spoke of it, and I didn’t push the subject. But sometimes, he’s depressed, and I hear him whisper about being guilty when he is deep in prayer. I’ve prayed that all would be resolved with whatever occurred. Mention nothing to Winston about his brother. When he and the kids arrive, I’ll tell him.”
Jeanne nodded. “Sure. Which one was he? It’s been about five years since I last saw him.”
“He looks nothing like his pictures from high school or his military ones. His eyes are harsher but more mature. Something has changed him, and not for the better. Both Winston and Roland need our prayer.”
The women gripped chilled hands and bowed their heads. Renee prayed softly. “Heavenly Father, You’ve brought Roland home safely. Thank You. Please fill his heart with love and rid it of any bitterness he might be harboring. Unite the brothers so they can forgive any wrong. Lord, You’ve gifted me with my family. What a blessing. We pray that we honor You as we serve Your children and hope they see You, not us, in our deeds. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”
“Amen.” Jeanne drew her sister into a hug. “It’ll be all right. God has this, and I’m certain He will answer our prayer. Let’s get back inside. I’m freezing.”
At arm’s length, her sister smiled. “Okay. Oh, what time is it?”
“About a quarter after twelve. Why?”
“Winston said he’ll finish at the shop and meet us around noon. They’ll be here in a few minutes. How am I going to tell him about his brother?”
“You’ll find a way. You always do, Ree.”
Inside, Jeanne searched the room for the brother but saw no one remotely resembling the young man she met once at Winston and Renee’s wedding. Had he left? Then she spotted a man in the far corner, alone. Oh, no, Roland, what happened? Renee is right. You’ve matured, but...? Did the army cause this change? Why are you homeless? You have family, well—one brother, but Renee and the children are there. I’m sure whatever occurred can be ironed out and the relationship restored.
Jeanne positioned herself behind the counter and shot up an additional quick, silent prayer for the restoration of brothers.
Renee smiled at an older man in the serving line and placed a scoop of potato salad on his plate. She kept a watchful eye on the front door, and her heart pounded each time it opened. As if on cue, her family entered. Renee shot up a silent prayer. Give me Your strength and guidance as I tell Winston about his brother’s return. I pray he’ll accept Roland back into our family’s fold. In Your Word, You say if we ask, we will receive, so I’m asking for our family to be whole again. Whatever Your will is, it’ll be best.
Little Brice wiggled his hand out of Winston’s grip and headed straight for Jeanne, calling out her name. With the child in hand, Jeanne led him back to his father. The line had thinned, so Renee felt confident enough to step away for a few minutes after Jeanne’s return.
Winston’s handsome smile had always sent a flurry of love through her soul. Nothing had changed. She returned his smile with one of her own, hoping it still affected him in the same way it had before kids, the bills, and the responsibilities. “Hi, there. You guys arrived just in time. We’re almost finished serving. We’ll do clean-up shortly, and in about an hour, we can spend the afternoon together.”
She bent and gathered her children into a hug. “How are my angels today?”
Both children smiled and replied in unison. “Okay, Momma.”
Renee hugged them again, then stood and greeted Winston with a kiss on his cheek.
“Good, we didn’t miss all the fun. Where do you want me?”
She’d fallen fast and hopelessly in love with Winston the instant they met. Daily, she thanked Jesus for bringing him to Hopewell that summer so he could apprentice at her neighbor’s furniture shop. What a servant’s heart he had.
“Sweetheart, I need to talk to you in private. Let’s go into the kitchen for a minute.”
Renee nodded at Jeanne, who kept sliding her glance toward them as she served the last few men in line.
An inquiring brow raised high on Winston’s forehead. “All right.” He sat the children at a table and knelt in front of them. “Stay here. Aunt Jeanne is just over there and will watch you guys. Mom and I will be right back. You guys can hug your aunt when we return, but you must stay here for now.”
They nodded. Brice’s little feet bounced up and down, ready to jump off the chair any moment. Winston patted his knee. “We won’t be long.” The child’s foot calmed, and he nodded again.
Alone in the kitchen, Renee faced her husband, searching for a way to convey the secrecy, but a knot grew in her throat.
“Okay, what’s so private you don’t want Jeanne to know?”
Her hand gently laid on his, and she looked into his eyes. “She already knows. I hope you think this is good news.” She steadied her breath, anticipated for the best, and dove right in. “Roland is here.” Gauging his expression for any adverse reaction and she found none.
A broad smile spread across Winston’s face as he peeked through the door’s small window. “Where is he? Out there, in the dining room, or here in Grove Hill? Is he all right?”
Renee sighed. “Over there.” She gave a sharp nod in the general direction. “He tried to hide from me by pulling his cap over his eyes, but I recognized those blue-velvet peepers when he came through the serving line. No one else around here has eyes like Roland’s.”
Her husband pushed on the door, but she gripped his arm. “Wait.”
He didn’t resist and spun back toward her. “What’s wrong?”
Renee had to tell him what she’d seen in her brother-in-law. “He’s not a volunteer...Winston, he’s one of the homeless. He didn’t speak to me nor I to him.” She shook her head. “Something terrible must’ve happened on the streets that brought him home. Your mother’s funeral was nearly a month ago...could that be it? You never told me why Roland left Grove Hill, and I understand if you don’t want to talk about family issues.”
“Homeless? I wish I knew why he left. Roland never confided in me. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have left so abruptly. I, I sometimes blame myself for the cause of his leaving.” Gently he gathered Renee’s hands in his. “If you’re willing to help me, we can get him back on track—if that’s what he wants. How about drugs or alcohol?”
Renee smiled and tilted her head. “Of course, I want him home. We’re family. His eyes were clear, and I didn’t smell liquor, but I wasn’t downwind.”
As Winston peered through the porthole, she could tell her husband was working on a plan to bring his brother home. She tiptoed and settled her cheek against his as she, too, studied her brother-in-law through the glass. “I’ve got an idea. We’ll send Brice over with a plate of food. You know our little boy can perceive the hearts of others. We’ll watch from the serving line. I’m positive he’ll be safe. Pastor Eli talked to Roland earlier and didn’t seem alarmed by him in any way.”
“If he came through the line once, will he question when Brice brings him a plate?”
“Maybe, but let’s try, anyway. From what I saw that year after we were married and when you shared about his gentle ways as a youth, Roland will accept the kind gesture and won’t think anything of it.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. From his letter after what occurred in the service, my brother was ashamed, but he paid the price. I don’t know the entire story, and I hope he will confide in me one day. I never have held that against him at all. Why he left home so quickly without a word, only a brief note scribbled on a paper napkin after Dad passed, is still a mystery to me.” Winston blinked, clearly fighting tears.
Over the years, Renee saw her husband’s guilt for what she figured was not his fault or anyone’s, but she also sensed the discord within the family. She never asked about it, nor did Winston share the reason with her—she hoped all would be resolved in due time. “Roland will confide in you when he’s ready. Until the reason is aired, stop blaming yourself.”
“Something happened during the time I was in Hopewell. When Dad got ill and we moved here, I felt a strain on the family. But when he passed....” He shook his head. “Roland had withdrawn into himself and wouldn’t speak to anyone, especially Mom.”
Renee slung an arm across her husband’s shoulder, hoping the gesture could ease his pain. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I was too busy being a new bride to take notice—I failed you and the family. Invite him home. I’m certain we can work through any problems.” She lowered her gaze to the floor and hoped none of her actions back then were the reason for the division of the family.
He gently slid a finger along her jawline and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “No, you didn’t. You were, and still are, my rock and have been nothing short of supportive of my family and ours—thank you, darlin’. Of course, I want him home. He’s my little brother. The question is, will he come? He may feel like the enormity of his situation would overwhelm the family.”
She peeked through the window again. “I hope he doesn’t talk himself out of staying. We gotta get back. The line is getting busy.” She followed her husband through a set of double doors.