The House that Love Built

Thirty-One




The following Monday Brooke took Hunter to the Oaks to speak with John Hadley. Brooke had explained the situation on the phone to the old man. Mr. Hadley had actually started crying while they were talking, so Brooke was prepared for an emotional meeting between Hunter and his potential great-grandfather. Hunter was skeptical that he could actually be related to a war hero, someone with honor and a respected background.

John Hadley met them at the door of his apartment. He was a tall man, only slightly bent over his walker, with wispy gray hair under a Houston Astros baseball cap. His blue jeans rose high above his hips, held up by a brown belt, and his dark green shirt brought out kind green eyes beneath bushy gray brows. His face was a road map of a long life, but when he smiled, there was a tenderness that made Brooke want to rush into his arms. Instead, she extended her hand.

“Mr. Hadley, I’m Brooke Holloway.” She turned to Hunter and smiled. “And this is Hunter.”

“Did you say Hunter?” He reached up to adjust something, and Brooke realized he wore a hearing aid.

“Yes, Hunter. The one I told you about?”

Hunter reached out to grasp Mr. Hadley’s hand. “Hello, sir.” His lip was trembling, and Brooke knew he was struggling not to cry.

Mr. Hadley had tears in his eyes as well. He gazed at Hunter for a long time, then slowly maneuvered his walker around so they could enter his small apartment, furnished much like the one Brooke’s mother had lived in. A plate of cookies sat on the coffee table, along with three glasses of water.

“I didn’t make the cookies,” he said, grinning. “Nellie Rutter in number 219 brings me treats.” He winked at Hunter. “I think she fancies me.” He chuckled. “Imagine that. At my age.” He motioned for Brooke and Hunter to sit down, then carefully lowered himself into a chair. Once they were seated, Brooke handed him the chest with the letters, and his eyes behind their thick glasses filled instantly. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

She’d already explained—and apologized—about the letters they had read, including the one that held news of the pregnancy. She had also mentioned the possible connection between him and Hunter.

“What about my son or daughter? My grandchildren?” he asked now, smiling at Hunter. “Are there more like this handsome fellow?”

Brooke glanced at the boy and waited, but Hunter nodded for her to do the talking. “I’m so sorry to tell you that your son died young, Mr. Hadley. His name was Richard Lewis, and he got cancer at an early age.”

“Oh.” A little of the old man’s eagerness deflated. “That’s too bad. I would’ve liked to know my boy.”

“Your grandson is alive, but I’m afraid he’s in a correctional institution, so I don’t know—”

“But I ain’t bad. I promise.” Hunter leaned forward. “I have me a good job.”

John Hadley stared long and hard at Hunter, then chuckled. “You know, I think you got my eyes, son.” He laughed. “Not everyone is blessed with these green eyes we both got.” He pointed to Hunter’s head. “And my mother’s hair was exactly that same color.”

Hunter seemed to be holding his breath, and Brooke worried he might have another panic attack. She was having a hard time holding herself together too. But there was only one way to be sure if all of their speculations were on target.

“Mr. Hadley, would you be willing to do a DNA test to prove that Hunter is indeed your great-grandson?” Brooke paused, unsure how he’d feel about that. Was he even aware of what DNA tests were?

The older man shrugged. “I guess so, but it’s not really necessary. I know this young man is my great-grandson—I see it in his face. But why not make it official.” He reached for a cookie.

Hunter wasn’t smiling, and his lips were pressed firmly together. “What about my father? Do you want to meet him too?”

Mr. Hadley stared at Hunter for a long time, almost to the point of it being awkward. Finally he said, “I believe I would like to get to know you first. How does that sound?”

Hunter lit up like a jack-o’-lantern, his crooked teeth stretched into the biggest smile Brooke had ever seen on him. “That sounds really good, sir.”

“Mr. Hadley, we can do the test tomorrow if you’d like. The results usually take three to ten working days, but I know someone at the hospital, and I think we can get the results sooner.” She glanced at Hunter, who was still grinning. “However the results come out, the owner of your former home—Owen Saunders—would like you to join us for dinner Saturday night. I’d be happy to pick you up. We thought you might like to see the way he has restored your old homestead.”

Brooke couldn’t read the man’s expression at first, but then he seemed to force a smile. “Maybe I can get back to you about that. Not sure I’m ready for that.”

“I understand.” Brooke was disappointed, but she supposed they should have expected that. Visiting the home he’d built for the only woman he ever loved might be too much.

They chatted for a while longer, then Brooke said they should probably go. Mr. Hadley asked if Hunter could stay, and Brooke just smiled and said, “Of course. Just call me when you’re ready to go, and I’ll pick you up.”

Hunter held up his new cell phone. “Sure.”

“Then I’ll see you later.” Mr. Hadley stood up when she did and held out his hand. “Thank you for this.” He nodded to the chest of letters, then to Hunter.

“You are very welcome.”



Saturday arrived, and they were expecting a crowd.

Mr. Hadley had decided he did want to join them, so Brooke drove to pick him up around four o’clock. Her mom and dad were already at Owen’s house cooking. Brooke’s father still had to use his wheelchair, but he sat at the kitchen table peeling vegetables while his wife chopped and stirred. Brooke and her mom had been cooking most of the afternoon, and the aroma of turkey, dressing, pumpkin—a complete Thanksgiving meal—wafted through the house. They’d decided there was so much to be thankful for, and they didn’t want to wait for November to celebrate.

“You’ve done a fine job with the house, Owen.” Mr. Hadley maneuvered his walker slowly into the dining room and sank down into a chair at one end of the table. “It makes me happy to see it filled with love and family.” There was a sadness in his voice, but Brooke suspected it wouldn’t last long. She had news that would brighten his day, and she planned to share it during dinner.

Owen had bought one of those little baby slings and had Lauren with him most of the day—when she wasn’t being passed off to others anxious to hold her. His awkwardness in handling her had vanished. Brooke felt like grinning whenever she saw him with the baby. He was a born father.

Brooke still couldn’t grasp Virginia’s decision to abandon her child, but she was glad of it for Owen’s sake. He’d already signed the papers and mailed them. But he’d also made it clear to Brooke that if Virginia ever changed her mind, he wanted to make a place in Lauren’s life for her biological mother. Brooke was glad of that too. He hadn’t actually said anything about forgiving his ex-wife, but Brooke could see him gradually letting go of the bitterness. That was an important step—a necessary step—toward the future she now envisioned with him and Lauren and her kids. But she was willing to wait for that, to walk by his side as he worked it out for himself. She knew that forgiveness took time . . . and a lot of grace.

When everything was on the table, the group took their seats. Owen positioned himself at the other end of the table across from Mr. Hadley, with Brooke by his side, then Brooke’s parents were seated next to her. Denny, Spencer, and Hunter were on the other side, and Meghan was squeezed into an extra chair next to Spencer. The portable playpen—with Lauren sleeping inside—sat within arm’s reach of Owen.

Owen asked everyone to join hands for the blessing, and Brooke was prepared for him to nod in her direction as he’d done in the past. But he didn’t. He simply bowed his head, and everyone else followed suit.

“Dear Lord, we give thanks for everyone gathered here today. In ways we couldn’t have foreseen, You have brought us all together and blessed us beyond what we could have imagined or hoped for. We ask You to bless this wonderful meal laid out before us and to guide us as we all strive to walk the path You’ve chosen for us. In Jesus’s name, we pray.”

Brooke swallowed hard as Owen squeezed her hand. She waited until he had carved the turkey and everyone had filled their plates, then she couldn’t stand it any longer. She glanced around the room and thought about what they’d all gone through this past summer, how God had worked miracles in their lives. But there was still one thing she needed to do. She tapped her fork to her glass, pushed back her chair, and stood up.

“Attention, please.” She cleared her throat as everyone put down their forks and stopped talking. She held Mr. Hadley’s eyes as she spoke—loudly to make sure he could hear. “I heard from the hospital yesterday, and it’s official. Hunter Lewis is indeed your great-grandson.”

Mr. Hadley’s lip trembled, the same way Hunter’s did sometimes when he got very emotional, and his voice cracked when he spoke. “I didn’t think I would ever see a day like this.” He turned toward Hunter. “I’m as proud and happy as a man can be to be included in this family.” Then he did start to cry. Brooke started to walk toward him, but Hunter was already there. Mr. Hadley slowly stood up, and Hunter gently put his arms around him. No one spoke. Even Meghan and Spencer seemed to understand the importance of what was happening.

After a few moments, Hunter returned to his seat, and everyone resumed eating. Brooke couldn’t stop looking around at their untraditional family and reveling in the joy that filled the room. She couldn’t think of anything else that could make it more perfect. Then there was a knock at the door.

“We expecting someone?” Denny stood up and walked to the entryway as they all waited quietly. He returned, ushering in a tall girl with blond hair.

Hunter bolted to his feet.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” The girl’s eyes widened when she saw how many people were in the room, but then she focused on Hunter. Her voice was soft. “Hey, Hunter. Did you get my e-mail?”

Hunter’s shocked expression relaxed into a smile. “Hi, Jenny.” Something unspoken passed between them as he walked toward her. Then he turned and faced everyone in the dining room. “This is Jenny, and . . . uh . . .” He introduced each one of them by name. “They are all my—my family.”

Brooke wanted to laugh aloud. Just when you think life can’t get any better, God comes up with another surprise.

She smiled as she stood up. “Hunter, go get another chair, and let’s make room for our guest.”

As she walked to the kitchen to get another place setting, she thought about how far they’d all come this past summer. She couldn’t wait to see what God had in store.