Family Wanted (Willow's Haven Book 1) (6 page)

Isabella put her hand in his and climbed out of the car. “That sounds perfect.”

Chapter Seven

I wanted to be a good wife.

T
itus barely tasted the ice cream, so consuming were his thoughts on everything that had happened this afternoon. He’d been taken aback with Savannah’s honest admission, even more with Isabella’s response to it and the fact that she’d never heard a child confess love. He wanted to talk to her more about her past and her reasons for coming to Claremont, but she was still recovering from the emotional pull of Savannah’s words. And right now wasn’t the time for a private conversation. Their table was full of happy ice cream eaters.

John and Dana Cutter sat across from Titus and Isabella at a red round table while their one-year-old son, Jacob, sat in a high chair by Dana. Savannah and Abi had selected a colorful kid-sized table by the window.

Titus watched as Savannah, wide-eyed and excited, told Abi again about how she went in the pool. Although Abi was three years older than his little girl, she hung on every word and told Savannah what a wonderful job she was doing, which caused Savannah’s smile to grow even bigger. They chatted nonstop while they worked on their ice-cream cones, and Titus marveled at the difference the past two weeks had made in Savannah.

Isabella had unquestionably been the primary cause of Savannah’s new disposition, and he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

“I saw Savannah in the pool with you today,” Dana said to Isabella. “I have to admit that it gave me goose bumps to see her enjoying herself like that.” Then she paused and looked at Titus. “I don’t mean that she hasn’t been happy before, necessarily, it’s just that...” Her voice fell off, and she looked to her husband for help.

“I think Titus knows what you meant,” John said.

Titus nodded. “I do, and I feel the same way. She’s been through a tough few years. We both have, and the whole town knows it.” Savannah’s laugh trickled through the air when she accidentally got ice cream on her nose. Titus watched her wipe it away, pure joy seeping into his soul. “But she’s finding her way out of the sadness now.” He debated whether to give credit where credit was due, since he didn’t want to embarrass Isabella, but the truth was the truth, and he’d say it. “And a big part of that is because of Isabella.”

She held up a palm. “Oh, I just tried to help.”

“You’re amazing with her,” Dana said, giving Jacob a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. “And Savvy told me how excited she is to have you working at Willow’s Haven. She said you’re a natural with children.”

“I love being a part of Willow’s Haven, and I do love children.” Isabella watched Jacob clap his delight as Dana fed him yet another spoonful of the cold treat, and Titus didn’t miss the look of longing. He’d seen it in Nan’s eyes, before they had Savannah. The look of a woman who wanted a child of her own.

Isabella had mentioned that she’d been married for ten years. Now Titus wondered why she and her husband didn’t have children. So many things about her had piqued his curiosity, and he wanted to spend more time with her to learn the answers to his questions.

“Daddy?”

Titus turned toward Savannah and saw that she and Abi had finished their cones and stood near the door leading to the square. “Yes?”

“Abi said her uncle John and aunt Dana are taking her to the toy store now. Can I go, too?”

“I’m not buying anything today,” Abi explained. “I’m just picking things out for my birthday.”

“Her birthday is still a month away,” John said, grinning, “but our Abi is a planner.”

Dana laughed. “And she knows her uncle John can’t say no to her.”

“As if her aunt Dana can,” John countered.

Dana laughed as she wiped excess ice cream off Jacob’s face and then eased him out of the high chair and into her lap. “Okay. Guilty as charged.”

John and Dana had finished their cones, but Titus and Isabella had hardly started on theirs, since they’d spent that extra time in the parking lot before entering.

Dana apparently noticed and said, “If it’s okay with y’all, Savannah can go with us to the toy store while you finish eating, and then we’ll bring her back here.”

Titus had spied the traditional bags of day-old bread near the counter and had an idea to give him a little time to talk to Isabella. “That sounds great,” he said. “But why don’t y’all meet us by the fountain? We’ll go out there and feed the geese after we finish our ice cream.”

Isabella looked surprised but didn’t say no to spending more time with him.

“Okay,” John said. “So it looks like we’re heading to the Tiny Tots Treasure Box.”

“My favorite place!” Abi darted ahead, with Savannah at her heels.

“Thanks for letting her tag along,” Titus said to the pair.

“We’re happy to have her.” Dana shifted Jacob from one hip to the other. “And so happy to see her smiling again.”

“Me, too,” he admitted.

After they’d taken the kids out of the shop, Isabella said, “You’re blessed to have such amazing friends here.”

Although he was certain she hadn’t meant to, she’d given him another glimpse of what she’d missed in the past. Friendship. “That’s the beauty of small-town living. Everybody knows everyone.” He’d finished the top of his ice cream and took a bite from the cone. “Occasionally it isn’t such a great thing, but most of the time, you appreciate it.”

She peered at him as she nibbled at her cone, waited a moment and then softly spoke what was on her mind. “I’m guessing it was hard after Nan left, with everyone knowing what had happened. Do you think it was worse because you live in a small town?”

From some people, the question would’ve seemed nosy, but not from Isabella. He could tell by her tone and the undeniable concern on her face that she realized how hard it was living in a town that knew his wife had abandoned him and Savannah. “I think it was worse living in a place this size,” he said. “It’d have been different if it were only adults looking at us that way and saying things, but even the kids know what’s going on around town.”

“The kids?”

He remembered that Monday in May when he’d picked Savannah up from school to find her eyes red and watery. “On the day after Mother’s Day, some kids on the playground at school asked Savannah why she didn’t have a mommy.”

“Oh, Titus, what did she say?”

“She told me that she said that she did have a mommy but that she was just not here right now. Then she asked me why she wasn’t.” He looked out the window to view all of the people on the square, anything to keep from watching Isabella’s solemn expression while his emotions attempted to get the best of him. Finally, he glanced back at her and said, “I wanted to give her a decent answer, but I didn’t have anything to offer but the truth.” He shrugged. “I told her I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wouldn’t have been so difficult if Savannah hadn’t had to go through it, too. That was the tough part—going out, to town or to church or wherever, and seeing people look at her that way, as if they were so sorry for her. It tore my heart out.”

“They didn’t realize how blessed she was,” Isabella said. Her cone had started to melt, and she took another small bite to stop its progress. “Savannah had you. So many children don’t have anyone, ever. But even when she lost her mom, she still had you there, loving her, caring for her...showing her that all people don’t leave.”

“Thank you for saying that.” A few people over the past three years had made similar statements, but none of them could relate to Savannah the way Isabella could. She’d been abandoned. She knew what it felt like to have no one to love her, care for her, show her that all people don’t leave. Maybe that was the reason Titus’s chest clenched and he had the strongest urge to show Isabella that someone could be there for her, too.

She stopped eating, grabbed a couple of napkins from the dispenser in the center of the table and wrapped the remainder of her cone inside. “I can’t eat another bite,” she said.

Titus considered that the topic of conversation may have affected her appetite, so he decided to lighten the mood. He tossed the end of his cone in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Me, either. Can’t eat another bite.”

Thankfully, she laughed, which was exactly what he’d wanted. Then he noticed a small dot from a chocolate chip near the corner of her mouth and pointed to his own. “You have a little chocolate, right here.”

“Oh.” She swiped the opposite side with a napkin.

He leaned forward, touched his finger to the spot and tenderly wiped it away. “I got it.”

She blinked, visibly swallowed, and the tight rein he’d put on his heart slipped a little. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked up to see Jasmine Waddell, the blond college student who worked behind the counter, staring at them with her mouth open. Titus could almost hear the roots of the gossip vine taking hold and preparing to thrive. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go buy some of the bread bits so we can feed the geese.” Then he stood, grabbed one of the brown bags of bread from the huge basket by the counter and went to make his purchase from Jasmine.

“That’s Isabella,” she said, ringing him up. “I met her at church Sunday. She’s from Atlanta and is working at the new place that Brodie and Savvy are building for orphan kids. Willow’s Haven.”

Amazing, the short bio for Isabella that had already made its way around Claremont. Obviously the gossip vine was still alive and well, probably courtesy of RuthEllen Riley at the Cut and Curl and Jasmine, undoubtedly privy to every conversation that occurred at the Sweet Stop. “That’s right.” Titus handed her the cash for the bread.

“So she’s helping Savannah learn to swim?” she asked, placing the bills in the cash register while authenticating Titus’s suspicion that she’d been eavesdropping.

“She is.”

“That’s awesome,” Jasmine continued, counting out the change while blissfully unaware of the disapproval in Titus’s tone. “She’s very pretty.”

To argue would be useless, not to mention an outright lie. “Yes, she is,” he agreed.

“You should date her.” This was delivered almost as a command, and he turned to see if Isabella had heard the girl’s directive words.

Jasmine started laughing, the type of giggle common with girls her age. It reminded Titus of the way Nan used to laugh when they’d first met, and it made him wonder what Isabella sounded like when she laughed that way.

“Don’t worry. She walked over to the door,” Jasmine said. “She didn’t hear me.” Then she dropped his change in his open palm. “But you should. Date her, I mean.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, slipping the change in his pocket. He picked up the bag and moved toward the door, then opened it for Isabella. But Jasmine, apparently deciding since she was already offering sage advice she might as well keep it up, yelled, “And you should come back to church, too!”

He winced then answered, “I’ll keep that in mind, as well.” Then he waited for Isabella to exit and left the ice cream shop...and the employee who was too young to realize she should keep some opinions to herself.

They walked toward the three-tiered fountain in the middle of the square with Titus reflecting on Jasmine’s unfiltered guidance. Knowing Isabella had heard the last statement, he asked, “You think she’s right, don’t you?”

She slowed, which caused Titus to look her way as she spoke. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but, yes, I do.”

Grateful that she hadn’t chosen the girl’s statement as an opportunity to gently reprimand him, he confided, “Savannah actually asked me why we didn’t go to church this week. The truth is I don’t feel right going when I’m so angry.” He didn’t have to add that he was angry at God. He was certain she knew.

She continued walking slowly and took a moment before she responded. Then she inhaled and said, “It may seem harder, but it’s actually much easier to deal with the pain and disappointment if you let Him help. But I can understand how it’d be tempting to get angry with Him after everything you’ve been through. You want to blame someone for what Nan did, walking out on y’all, and you want to blame someone for her death. And He seems like the best target. Since He is the place where the buck stops, so to speak.”

Titus couldn’t deny her sincere assessment. She’d nailed it. “You never got angry with Him? With everything you went through growing up? At all of those orphanages and foster homes you told me about?”

Her mouth lifted in a slight smile. “I couldn’t,” she said. “I needed God too much to get mad at Him. Most of the time, the only positive things I had to cling to were the tiny snippets that I’d learned about Him on those rare visits to church. I knew that He loved me, even when it seemed no one else ever would. I needed to know that. I think all children need to know that someone, somewhere, loves them. I still remember the very first Bible class I attended. It was Easter Sunday, and I guess I was about six, probably Savannah’s age.”

Titus tried to picture Isabella as a young orphan brought to church by the shelter or foster home where she lived. He imagined her sad eyes, as well as her desire to know that someone cared, and it pierced his heart.

“The teacher had placed a coloring page at everyone’s seat. I’ll never forget it had a cross in the middle.” She smiled. “I colored it purple, but the teacher didn’t correct me. She just said that I did a great job coloring. I didn’t get a lot of compliments back then, so that one meant a lot.”

Again, he imagined Isabella at Savannah’s age, sitting in a classroom and happy that the teacher had noticed her paper.

“Then she talked about Jesus dying on a cross, and she said that He did that because He loved us. She sat in front of the class and mentioned each of us by name, you know, like ‘Jesus loves Lacy. And Jesus loves Jonathan. And Jesus loves Isabella.’” They’d nearly reached the fountain, and Isabella gazed at the splashing water as she added, “I’ll never forget the way my heart felt when she said that, that He loves me.”

“I can’t imagine what that was like for you.” He couldn’t remember a time when his parents didn’t tell him often that he was loved, not only by them but also by God. “No child should have to wonder whether they’re loved.”

She continued looking at the fountain, and Titus wondered if it was because she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it together if she looked his way.