Hope Is Love: Black Family Series

By Sylvia Hubbard

Meet Hope, but most people call her Jona. She was a person living in the world, but not living on the inside.

Bad things happen to good people and Hope was the person we lose in the system and she grows up just going from day-to-day trying to make a dollar out of the pennies she find.

But she’s smart on the street. She keeps to herself, but she’s just there. A body without a soul and she’s going nowhere.

Then meet James from LOVE LIKE THIS .

He’s one of the bad characters that once the story is over you really don’t give a fig about. Now he’s lost again and you’ll find him here in HOPE IS LOVE.

Can they find what they are looking for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia Hubbard
• Release date: May 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781452417370

Sylvia Hubbard

Detroit native, Sylvia Hubbard, a single mother of three, has worked tirelessly to promote and encourage emerging writers in Michigan. She independently published her first romance novel in 2000 and has continued to write in that genre, sometimes venturing into other sub-genres. Always urban and contemporary styled, her writing is enjoyed all over the world. She has published 8 paperbacks and over 30 e-books.The same year she published, Ms Hubbard also created Motown Writers Network to fill the lack of education and networking for Michigan authors online and offline. By 2004, she was frustrated that all the literary conferences had moved too far away from the city and co-created The Essence of Motown Literary Jam Conference held only in the City of Detroit annually.In addition to romance writing, Hubbard has been featured at various conferences and workshops all over the United States and Canada, where she has taught authors how to sell their books on the Internet. She also published Internet Marketing for Writers & Businesses as a resource for those unable to attend her workshops. In the upcoming year, she will be featured in several anthologies and plans to publish additional e-books.

Book preview

Chapter 1

There wasn't much to live for when the world takes everything away.

Those were her only thoughts as she huddled on the side of the clinic she'd just left.

There was nothing anyone could have done. The baby wasn't right from the beginning and she knew that, but there had been hope.

In a way the word, hope sickened her and made her long for better days… days of the past when she could say she had someone, even if it had only been her father. Now she was all alone and so tired of being all by herself.

Are you ok? A stranger asked, walking by and pausing to stare at Jona in concern.

Jona always wondered what people saw when they asked her that question. Today maybe it was the way her chocolate smoky eyes were deep in their sockets from lack of sleep, her unusual thick lips were dry from dehydration, a paleness even to her light caramel brown skin and there was a sort of trudge to her step. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and most people would equate her look with drugs until they looked a little further. This stranger must have and seen that this wasn't normal.

Without looking their way, Jona only nodded.

Do you have some place to go? the female stranger asked.

Inside she wanted to scream for the stranger to leave her the hell alone, but even her thoughts were too tired to carry this out. She nodded again, but this was a lie.

This lie was enough to make the stranger walk away. The cold wind decided to blow hard and she checked the zipper on her coat. The icy wind slipped through and chilled her down to the bone, but this was all she had. Trudging through the three inches of snow, Jona cleared her mind to the task at hand. Finding a warm place to sleep and getting her life back.

As always the church was open and welcomed Jona in as long as she got there early enough. The church mother remembered her, but everyone called her J. No one called her by her real name. Jona hadn't heard the sound of her real first name since she was ten years old. Her father was the only one that called her by her first name. Everyone else just knew her by Jonah's kid or when he wasn’t around they called her Jona. She never corrected them and was still known on the streets by that name.

Out in public, Jona wasn't much of a talker, but she was one of those nice homeless persons that people didn't mind helping.

As she laid down for the night, Jona really didn't sleep. Her mind was filled with her past because she really had nothing else to hope for. The possibility of having a baby would have been so worthwhile.

Tomorrow is another day Jona, she told herself. There's really nothing more to hope for.

* * *

As usual, everyone had to be out of the shelter by ten, but Jona usually stayed over to help clean up. Two years ago when she had started coming, there had been some unwritten rule allowing her to stay after all the other homeless had left. She'd started putting up the cots and taking the blankets to the washroom.

Someone would then bring her a sandwich, cookie and then some juice.

The mother of the church brought her a tray this time. She even sat down with Jona and immediately Jona knew it was gonna be one of those talks.

What will you be doing this holiday season, J? the woman asked in concern. The mother of the church had to be in her sixties. She sucked her teeth after every four words because she was getting used to dentures and her silver black hair was cut boyishly, but she always wore the most unusual earrings.

The mother of the church was a short African American woman - No taller than five feet, but everyone had such high regards for the woman she could be two feet and they'd carry her around so she could get places faster.

Jona shook her head, stuffing half the sandwich down her throat and wondering how many quick bites she could take so she could finish up the food and get out of there.

You thought about that program I told you about? the older woman asked.

Jona only shrugged glad her mouth was full of food to answer.

I know it’s not here in Detroit, but it’s somewhere you can start over. These people are friends of mine and they want to help you.

Jona tried to eat faster.

Maybe even make some friends. You need those. I get so worried about you, the older woman said quietly. Especially after last time.

Jona wasn't chewing anymore. Using the best of her swallowing techniques she'd learned as a child, she took down the food whole, so she could get out of there.

Getting up, Jona nodded her thanks and tightened up her coat.

Just remember tomorrow will be our last time opened until after the New Year. Try to get here early because you know how we fill up fast and can't take anyone after we've filled up.

Jona nodded again and then made her way out with the Mother saying, I'm gonna pray for you, J. I'm gonna pray the Lord finds you someone; anyone because you need someone to look after you and you need to look after someone.

Jona tried not to let those words affect her. Not until she was out in the cold where the wind could freeze the tears in her eyes.

Was there really A God that everyone talked about? She questioned.

If he loved her so much why'd he leave her like this and make it so difficult for her to live her life? She hadn't asked to be born and she had not asked to be used as she had been. Now she was stuck, broken and all alone.

To keep warm she found the longest bus line to ride until she was in Downtown Detroit. Remembering her father's patterns when she was just a little girl, she went over to the alley near the famous Coney Island. Not because there was food thrown out a lot, but because there were two large restaurants the vents shot warm air in the alley. There was an elderly man also huddled in the same place under the same vent. He looked at her for a moment, assessed her from head to foot and then turned away because she didn't look like a threat.

Wearing two long thick coats under triple layers of clothes and four pairs of socks in some almost worn down timberlands she'd found in a dumpster a month ago, her clothes kept the moisture out and that was what was important for street survival.

She knew the street. She had known it all her life watching her father pick through other peoples' trash to find food, clothing and other necessities.

Jona had tried to stay in school, but without an address it wasn't long before the kids picked on her or she became the school's charity case. Soon the officials were called in and the threat to live in juvie hall was made. She'd run because she refused to grow up around murderers, thieves, prostitutes and drug dealers.

At twenty-eight, she had gotten her high school diploma and she tried to study community college, but with no address it was hard to afford. Places she'd tried to stay ended up either being dangerous or uncomfortable for her. With her fear of closed in places, living with a lot of people didn't keep her in group homes for long.

As much as she tried to ignore the fact, the mother of the church was right. She needed someone in her life. The possibility of having a baby had been an excellent opportunity even if it had been conceived wrongly. The baby would have been something to live for.

Dusk came and with nothing to do or live for she stayed where she was. The church didn't take people until ten and she had just enough to get there, plus bus fair in the morning to get somewhere to make a little change. Pumping gas, help with bags, or washing cars always gave her a few nickels to hold her until next week.

With the holiday being the following day, plus falling on a weekend, she knew everything would be real tight until Monday morning.

The old man had left the alley once it started to get dark, but Jona was reluctant to leave the cozy vent and venture back into the cold.

Just a few more minutes, she told herself.

A new model black Cadillac pulled into the alley. Jona was slightly behind the garbage dumpster ducked down so they couldn't see her. A well dressed man and woman got out arguing. She couldn't see their faces, but from the sound of their voices, she determined they had to be Caucasian and well educated.

Why'd we have to meet them here? The man insisted sounding very agitated.

Listen James, my husband can never know about this and these people said they had pictures. Do you have the money? she asked desperately.

I said I would have it, Chelsea, he grumbled. Damn!

Jona determined he was more upset about the woman checking him than the money he had to come up with.

There seemed to be a great relief in the woman's voice as she said, Then we'll wait for them. They said to meet them here.

Jona couldn't see their faces without revealing herself, but she could care less. This had nothing to do with her, yet since her own life was so boring and listless, listening to other people's complexities and problems was almost better then sneaking in an electronic store and watching the soaps on television.

Well I'm waiting in the car. It's too damn cold and filthy out here, the guy grumbled.

If she pressed her face against the dumpster closely, she could make out the front of the vehicle. The open lid of the dumpster hid her, but blocked her upper visuals. The woman walked by to jump back in the car and Jona saw seven-inch black platform heels with tan bottoms. What Jona noticed the most was the red tattoo on her Achilles with the vine wrapped around her ankle.

Jona wondered how much money were they giving away to these people?

As if you could take it, she sneered.

Jona looked at her watch and knew the last bus would be leaving soon.

Hopefully these people would be too.

She heard another vehicle pull up behind the Cadillac. From the heavy engine, she could determine it had to be either a large older model SUV or van. Someone with a heavy footstep and a slight limp got out and walked up to the side of the Cadillac.

Jona used to play this game a lot - hearing, but not seeing. Her father used to always tell her to close her eyes. She would be obedient, but her imagination was good and most time what she heard, she was right about it.

From the proximity of the sounds, she knew the heavy footstep this person had a limp and was tapping on the driver side door, where the irritated guy had gotten back in.

He tapped again on the window and she heard the whir of the electronic window roll down.

What the hell are you doing here? the guy in the car said surprised. Did you-

The sound of a gun going off made Jona cover her ears. She didn't need to hear anymore, but she couldn't help some of what leaked through.

The woman was screeching, You killed him! Why'd you kill him? This was only to get the money. You weren't even supposed to come.

Jona didn't know what else was said as she pressed her hands tighter over her ears because she didn't want to. They bumped the dumpster several times until there was a large thud a few moments before the Cadillac and the car behind it pulled away.

She waited just a few more minutes before getting up from behind the dumpster.

Good thing she had on gloves and her hair was covered. There would be no trace of her there and she wouldn't have to answer to anyone.

Looking at the scene, she didn't see the body, but knew either they drove off with the body or...

Damn her curiosity.

Carefully, she opened up the dumpster and there he was.

He was a white guy. A big white guy and it looked like he was sleeping, except for the large clot of blood on the side of his head still fresh and oozing.

He didn't have a winter coat on and they even took his shoes

A robbery gone badly? That's what they meant for it to look like? A car jacking!

Jona closed the dumpster and started to walk away until she heard a moan.

Chapter 2

It was almost likely the vent blowing; she tried to convince herself of.

Jona took two more steps away, but she heard another moan.

Damn!

Turning back to the dumpster, she opened the lid and groaned to herself.

He had to weigh about 250 or a little bit more. Well built though and not fat. Still getting him out would be a pain and a headache.

What are you thinking crazy?! Do you know what they'll say?! The questions they'll ask! NO! No! No! You don't need the headache.

Her stomach growled and she looked him over carefully to see if she could detect something on him. Looking to the street both ways, no one was around enough to even notice her.

Bravely, she reached her hand over to him and felt the lower pockets of his suit coat. There was nothing there on either side. She knew these coats pretty well from looking them over in the Salvation Army to see if she could sport them for warmth. Jona knew male clothing was much warmer than female clothing and their clothing also had more pockets; especially on the inside.

Feeling upwards, she found the inner pocket and reached deep inside. Her fingers touched something cold and metal. Pulling it out, she smirked at the treasure she found. A platinum and diamond ring which he must have taken it off before getting shot in the head.

This would feed her for a couple of months!

Excitedly she let the doors to the dumpster close and started walking away.

Wait! You're just going to leave him? she asked herself.

Looking back at the dumpster, she knew the right thing to do would be to go for help, but the thought of the pawn shop closing before she got over there was just too tempting. It was one right around the corner and she hopped right over there and put the ring on the counter.

The greasy large Caucasian man with speckled black in his white hair looked at her suspiciously with his light blue eyes. You ain't stole dis off no one, little one?

She shook her head and held her hand out for payment.

He looked at it through a special eyepiece and she was sure he was salivating.

I'll give ya a bill for it.

She didn't move her hand when he placed the bill on it, but she was not about to argue with this man. He was gypping her and she wasn’t about to get ugly, but she was going to get what was hers.

Grumbling, he placed three more bills and looked relieved when she moved her hand away. Even though she knew the ring must have cost a couple of thousand, she wasn't pressing her luck. Three Benjamin Franklins was better than nothing. The fact that she stole the ring off a semi dead man already was guilt enough.

Walking out the pawnshop, quickly closing her coat, she thought she heard his groan right in her ear.

Culpability overwhelmed her and she found her feet taking her back to the dumpster. With the holiday being tomorrow and the icy river winds from the Detroit River howling about with a little snow mixed in, there was hardly anyone in downtown Detroit. The temperature outside had to be about twenty, but with the wind it felt below freezing.

He can't still be alive, she convinced herself, but that didn't stop her feet from taking her right in front of the dumpster, nor her hands from opening up the black top.

His lips had started to turn a little blue, but he just looked like he was sleeping. Putting her hand by his nose, it took a moment to feel his warm breath on the tip of her finger.

Just find anyone, so they can get him help, she told herself.

Jona looked around for help, but not even a car passed by and it was late enough that the restaurant wasn't even opened anymore.

If she left again to get help, his injury could be worse and pressure could help him survive just a little longer.

Jona reluctantly climbed in the dumpster easily and reached inside her own jacket to find an extra hat and a shirt.

Under her breath she was cursing herself, but for some reason, she couldn't just leave him. Despite the fact she didn't know him, the look on the church mother's face would be devastating if she knew Jona left this man for dead when they had helped her out in bad situations.

Pay it forward, she'd heard a lot of the members say and if Jona left this man to die, she'd carry that guilt along with the fact that she was miserable and alone for the rest of her short life. Short life meaning, she'd probably kill herself from all the emotional guilt on her shoulders.

With the shirt, she carefully banded his head tightly muttering about wasting a perfectly good shirt on this white man. It looked as if the bullet had only grazed his skull, but there was enough blood and damage to his skin that it looked as if his brain was gone as well.

She was not a doctor, but she knew enough street medicine to know when to wrap something to stop or slow down the bleeding. With his pitch-black hair, the darkness of the blood didn't bother her as much and once she put on the hat, he almost seemed to be fine.

Help, he whispered and then his teeth chattered.

She braced her legs tight and put her arms under his pits. Using her back, she was able to get him to sitting up.

Help me out, Mister, she ordered in a strain. Please.

It took a few more minutes and just as she was about to give up, his legs began to move. Though they were shaky, it was just enough to get her to help him lift up and pull him over the dumpster wall.

Still no one was around and she slowly lowered him down to the ground. Looking down at his feet, she knew they would freeze before she got them anywhere.

Taking off her boots, she took off two pairs of her socks and put them on his feet. The last pair had soft rubber soles on the bottom, which she liked to put on to keep the cold off her feet. This would suffice him for at least an hour if he didn’t step in any major puddles and that would be enough time to get him help.

You gotta stand up, she ordered him, gripping him under the arms again.

His eyes were closed and he really seemed dead. His color was fading and she really worried his injuries were worse than what they were. Dry blood now looked like splotches of dirt all over his face and even his clothes had started to freeze in the Downtown icy river wind that whipped about them.

Yet, his legs began to move and she was able to help him stand up. He leaned heavily on her, but walked with her in a sluggish pace. The man had to be over six feet and felt like he weighed more than the dumpster she had dragged him from.

Jona walked toward the bus terminal where she hoped there was a police car there or some more help.

If they passed anyone, the person was either on the other side of the street or just walked faster to get away from her and the stranger. Jona really felt like giving up. Her back was screaming in pain from his weight, but she couldn't give up right now. It was just a few more blocks to the bus terminal.

Just as they arrived at the public bus terminal near downtown Detroit, she saw a patrol car slowly circling for safety. Hurriedly, she found a bench for the injured stranger to get on, and then proceeded to run across the street to flag down the officers.

They were about to pull off, but in her relief, the officer sitting on the passenger side noticed her and made the driver hold up.

The passenger side officer warily rolled down the window partially as Jona walked up to that side of the car.

Relief filled her because even though she had stolen from this man, she was going to get him off her hands and wouldn’t have to worry about her conscious.

I need help, she said breathlessly. This guy got shot and he gotta be taken to the hospital. She pointed to the bench where the stranger had now slumped off and was laying down.

We're not a taxi service, the officer said.

I know that, but he got shot.

What? With a fifth of whiskey, lady? the officer sneered.

Immediately Jona knew this officer was not going to be of any help. Bending down further to catch the eye of the other officer, she said pleading, Please, he' s gonna die!

We're gonna die if we have to continue to smell you, the driver said chuckled. See I told ya, she just wanted nothing. Let's get our ass out of here. It's Christmas Eve and I don't wanna hear any more crap.

Jona had forgotten the filthy coat she used to ward off the dangerous men on the street.

The window rolled up as Jona patted and pleaded, Please help. Please officer. He's dying.

Her begging went for nothing because the officers drove away just laughing at her.

Cursing, she went back across the street to sit the stranger up. Her back was killing her, but she knew if she tried to get him to the hospital or a walk in, she wouldn't have enough to get home. She wouldn't have enough time if she took him anywhere to get back on the street and get any money before the holiday was over with. She could possibly starve to death, go in a dangerous area or not find a warm place to settle down, because she was stuck on the wrong side of town away from where she would be safe and warm.

With it being the holiday, no one seemed to want to take her serious and the stranger didn’t seem coherent enough to help her find someone either. He really did look like he was intoxicated from the slumped position he was in. The best idea was to get him over to the church where she also had a place she could stay warm through the holidays. Hopefully, they could make it there in time before it became full.

The bus came and Jona was able to get him to step up on the bus and after she sat him down, she used the last of her money to pay the fair for the both of them. She tried to make eye contact with the driver, but he looked like he was about the vomit from the smell of her and frowned when she took overly long to pay the fair.

When she sat down beside the stranger, he slowly opened his eyes and moved his lips as if speaking. She was mesmerized at the fascinating green eyes that peaked over his eyelids graced with long black lashes.

What are you saying? she asked.

Where am I? he asked his eyes glazing over her face.

She knew he couldn't really see her and was still very much out of it.

I'm trying to get you help, she said reaching down and squeezing his hand, wondering if he must be scared. Just stay still.

It would be cruel to just leave him on the bus. Although he would most likely get help to treat his wound, the people who had actually did this to him would not be caught. What if the man had lost this memory? Who would take care of him?

Maybe this was some kind of blessing and she would be able to get some kind of reward?

While on the trip over to the church, Jona searched through his pants pockets, but there was nothing on him. No wallet, no money, no kind of identification. Stupid, she told herself, Maybe that item you sold could have identified him!

Sighing in disappointed, she leaned forward to put her hand over her eyes in frustration.

Maybe this was a punishment after all and her kindness had over extended to someone who would be absolutely useless? Or this was punishment for pawning his possessions. Guilt filled her and she knew she couldn’t abandoned him on the bus, but she’d be damn if she was going to use the money she really needed unless she really had to.

Where are we? he asked again groggily, but his eyes were now closed and his head was leaning on her shoulder.

It took a moment for her to answer, because she hadn't been a we in a very long time. On a bus.

Bus? I never rode a bus.

What's your name, Mister? she questioned.

He started to answer her, but then stopped himself as he had lost his thought. He looked up at her and she wanted to drown in his most extraordinary warm deep green colored eyes with a touch of smoky gray around the edge.

Caught off guard immediately at how handsome this man was, she almost forgot her train of thought.

What is my name? he questioned her.

She shrugged. You'll have to tell me. I just found you like this.

He looked down at himself as if he didn't know his head was attached to his body. I'm not like you.

What do you mean?

You're black. He said this as if it were a secret to everyone else including her.

Jona smiled. What are you? College educated? It must've took a lot to come up with that observation.

You're being sarcastic? he asked kindly.

I don't know what that means.

So you're not college educated, he explained.

She rolled her eyes and decided not to speak to him. Whoever he was he had to be worth some money and maybe she could get enough money out of this when it was all said and done.

I'm hungry, he whined, but his eyes were closed again and obviously he didn't care he'd pissed her off again, because he leaned his head back on her shoulder. And your coat smells horrendous, but I'm too damn tired and cold to care or move away.

Jona accessed him carefully. Picking up his large hand, she saw they were soft and flawless. This man had never worked a hard day in his life. It was difficult to know this was the first man she had ever really met that didn't have his hands tore up from the floor up.

Looking around to see if anyone was watching them, she waited until the bus driver seemed to concentrate on the road before she raised his hand to her nose. Her sense of smell picked up a strong oak, a scented oil and something else that seemed sweet, but aromatic.

A soap? An expensive fragrance? Either way it adhered to his skin despite what he'd been tossed in recently.

He had to be about six foot four and weighed about two hundred a fifty pounds. Like she'd noticed in the dumpster, she saw he really was all muscle and looked back at his left hand again, she saw there was no remnants of ring around the base.

Not married, businessman? she surmised.

That'd be the only explanation, but what would be his reasons for being