A Hopeful Heart and A Home, a Heart, A Husband. Lois Richer

heavens, no! Hope is nothing like your grandmother. If she thinks I deserve it, she can tear a strip off me. Most times, it serves me right.” He chuckled.

      “Mom must have taken after your Anna, then.” When Harry frowned, Mitch rushed to make his meaning clear. “You know what Dad was like, Gramps. He never had a decent word to say to anyone, Mom included. Most of the time he was screaming vile things at her. And she took it all without telling him off. Not once as long as I hung around can I remember a time when she would retaliate.”

      “No, she wouldn’t have,” Harry whispered sadly. “That was our fault. Anna and I knew your ma saw the court cases come and go, and we were afraid she would learn that retribution often paid. So we taught her that fighting back never solved anything.” He stared at the picture of the young laughing girl on his desk. “I regret that now.”

      “There’s no point in regrets, Gramps.” Mitch smiled bitterly. “We can only learn from the past, and what I learned from my old man and his successors is that marriage tears people up.”

      “I’m sorry ‘bout that, too, my boy,” Harry whispered as the door slammed behind his grandson. “Because I think marriage is the best darn institution God ever invented.”

      He sat staring at his oak-lined office for a long moment before rousing himself to action.

      “I wonder,” he murmured, shrugging into his black robes for the last session of the day. He pressed the newfangled speed dial his secretary had shown him how to use.

      “Hello, Hope? I need to talk to you about something.” He waited for her response, a smile curving his lips. “I thought maybe we could go for a picnic. Haven’t had one of those in years.”

      When she started to protest he cut her off.

      “I’m due in court now, my dear. Let’s just plan to leave around six. I’ll pick you up. Wear pants.” Harry hung up the phone with a huge smile on his round face.

      Yes, siree, this was going to be an interesting date!

      “Jessica, I cannot afford to reprimand you again. This is the last time.” Melanie watched as the young woman’s face turned sullen.

      “But, Melanie, Mrs. Lindstrom was—”

      “I cannot condone your actions regardless of what our residents do or say.” She cut her trainee off. “Your treatment of Mrs. Lindstrom was callous and disrespectful, and we do not allow that here.” She searched Jessica’s pretty face for some sign of remorse. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

      “I guess so.” The voice was petulant.

      Melanie refused to allow herself any softening. The bullying tactics she had just witnessed were unforgivable.

      “I’ll make it perfectly clear, then, so that we both understand the way things go at Sunset.” She waited until Jessica’s sullen blue gaze met hers and then she laid down the law.

      “This is your last warning, Jessica. Our residents are seniors, yes, and sometimes they need help. But force will not be used on anyone unless he or she is a danger to themselves or someone else. Okay?”

      “But she was pulling my hair! Don’t I have any rights?”

      Melanie sighed, knowing the teenager would have to be relocated.

      “Jessica, please. You were forcing her into the bath. She hates water. She’s afraid.”

      “Well, how was I s’posed to know that?” The young woman had shifted from cranky to defiant, her lip curling with disgust. Suddenly, Melanie was tired of the whole thing.

      “I guess you would actually have to talk to her, like a real person, and then let her talk back to find it out,” she answered acidly, unwilling to go over the same material again.

      Melanie knew she was venting some of her foul mood on the trainee, but Jessica deserved it. She would have dumped on Mitchel Stewart, too, if he had been around. He had been at the bottom of a lot of her problems lately!

      She waved Jessica away tiredly as she raked a hand through her disheveled curls. Her secretary walked in with a cup of coffee and a commiserating smile.

      “What happened to decency and courtesy, Bridget?” She sipped a mouthful of the refreshing brew and closed her eyes. When there was no response, Melanie opened them again. The woman just kept watching her. What now? she wondered.

      “I’m sorry, Mel, but Mr. Northrup is slipping away fast. Hospital phoned to say you should come over if you want to talk to him once more.”

      Melanie got up immediately and moved to the door. Jonathan Northrup had been at Sunset even longer than she had. He had been her inspiration and hope for so long. It would be hard to say goodbye. The only consolation was that they both knew they’d meet again in heaven. Still, it would be tough. She straightened her backbone and strode down the hall, not really hearing Bridget’s voice as she gathered her thoughts.

      “Mel, there’s some fellow from Papa John’s Peanut Butter wants to see you immediately. He’s at the front desk.”

      The last few words were hollered at Melanie’s disappearing figure. She need not have bothered, Bridget thought. She knew Melanie Stewart had her priorities straight. And Jonathan Northrup was certainly more important than some silly contest!

      Half an hour later, Melanie closed the big hospital door. He was gone. Serene to the end, Jonathan had given her his final bit of advice.

      “You have to get out and live, my dear. Old folks are selfish and depressing sometimes, and much as we enjoy all your efforts, you have to look after yourself. One day you’ll find a man who, if you let him, can give you so much.” He had stopped for a painful, wheezing breath. “Make sure you have enough left of yourself to give back. That’s all I ask.” His frail, veined hand had clasped hers one last time.

      “Enjoy your life, my dear. You’ve given me so much happiness. See you in heaven.”

      “Yes, in heaven.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but Melanie dashed it away angrily. She would not cry. Jonathan wouldn’t have wanted it.

      A deep voice spoke from behind her left shoulder.

      “Are you all right, Melanie?”

      Turning, Melanie found Mitch’s tall, elegantly dressed figure behind her. He looked very handsome in his navy blue pinstriped suit, but it was his eyes that drew her. Dark and searching, they probed deep within, sharing her sorrow.

      “He was someone special, wasn’t he?” he asked softly as his arm moved across her shoulder. His hand was gently soothing on her back, and suddenly Melanie gave way.

      Turning into his arms, she put her head on his shoulder and bawled like a baby.

      “Oh, Mitch. He was my best friend.”

      He let her cry out her loss and feelings without saying anything. And as she cried, Melanie felt the stress and sadness slowly drain away.

      “Thanks,” she murmured, accepting the snowy white handkerchief he pulled from his pocket to wipe her eyes. She knew she had smudged her mascara, and her eyes must look like a raccoon’s, but Mitch never said a word. Gently, he took the fabric from her and completed the cleanup himself before stuffing the square into his pocket.

      Then he tipped her face to look at his.

      “Have you time for a coffee?” he asked. “I need to talk to you.”

      His voice was so serious that Melanie stared at him for a minute before nodding.

      “I suppose I can. I’ll just tell Bridget I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

      “Actually, I thought maybe we could go outside for some privacy.” He pointed to a carafe and two cups. “And she already knows.”

      Shrugging, Melanie accepted his outstretched hand and walked to the patio that nestled on