Hope sighed, and Faith followed her gaze to where the new facility would be built, a place for concerts, indoor events, and gatherings that were bigger than the church could accommodate.
“It’s like she doesn’t know how to just go with the general consensus and agree,” she said, watching her mother, Millicent Lawrence—or Militant when she wasn’t listening—pace up and down with a placard that said, “No to the facility. Not all change is good.”
“You have to admire her commitment to the cause,” Faith said.
“There is that.” Hope sighed again, and it was pathetic.
“For the love of God, woman, get it together, will you? Surely there is a rare species of bird or animal in need of your attention?”
“Well, I read in a journal yesterday that some of the geese around the area are dying from a fungal infection.”
“That has to be tough.”
“And then some.”
“So go slather them in cream or something.”
“I might just do that,” Hope said, sounding perkier.
“Promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“You don’t name your child after some kind of species, like finches or osprey.”
“As if Newman would let me. But Finch would be cool right?”
“I’ll tell Newman to stand firm then.”
Lake Howling had one road in, and it led straight into Main Street. The town stretched along the part of the lake with stores like The Roar, a general store. The Howlery was a bakery Lucy and Noah now owned. They’d purchased it from Mrs. Cribbins, or Mrs. C if she liked you, one of the more colorful characters in town.
“I know he’s a big deal, Faith, and I know he’s busy, but I just wanted to see him,” Hope said, sounding sad again. “He’s my brother, and okay, we’re not as close as we used to be, but we stay in touch, you know, and I had a need to see him. Mom too. Since she had that fall, some of the bite has gone out of her.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Last week she caught me throwing something in the trash. I hadn’t realized I’d been off with my aim and turned away. She marched into The Howler and slapped the wrapper on reception. Her glare could have felled an entire forest.”
Hope sighed. “She brought us a bag of sweaters she’s knitted the baby. Black, or gray, and one in natural wool.”
“But those can look cool with the right accessories,” Faith said.
“Newman is washing them in eucalyptus today to soften them up.”
“What a guy.”
Hope sighed again. “He is and has put up with a lot from me lately. Especially when it comes to Ryan. He asked me if it would be all right if he called him. I said no. Newman can do mean really well, and I don’t want him and Ryan falling out.”
Faith felt no regret over the words she’d said to Ryan Lawrence. The man had deserved every one.
“Sure, and I get that, but he’s the man you love, and he wants to protect you. Ryan is being a loser, if you want my opinion.”
“He’s busy and offered to pay for me and Newman to come to him, but I can’t fly now. Besides, I want him to come home and see Mom. She deserves that from him.”
“She does.”
They reached the cafe and entered. The scent of coffee mingled with baked goods made her mouth water.
“Sit, and I’ll get your fix,” Faith said, pulling out the closest chair and waving Hope into it. She then made for the counter.
“Buster!”