Free My Hope Next Door by Tammy L. Gray

were marred with multiple tears and cigarette stains. Not to mention the embedded cat hair and an odor that reminded her of sweaty feet. She didn’t care if they had to take a chainsaw to the frame, they were moving the couch today .
    “Let me call some guys from work,” he offered.
    What he meant was Let me call Cooper . Her father’s hints about her ex-boyfriend had been anything but subtle. Apparently, the manipulative jerk had wormed his way into her dad’s good graces while she was gone. Well, her opinion wasn’t nearly as pliable. The answer wasn’t just no, but H-E-double-hockey-sticks no .
    “I already called for reinforcements.”
    “Who?”
    “Our neighbor.”
    Her dad kicked an empty cardboard box, and it bounced off the wall. “I told you I don’t want him sniffing around here.”
    She threw up her hands. “Well, I don’t want Cooper here, so it looks like we’re at an impasse.”
    “Except it’s my house.”
    That was true, but Katie had spent a week sweating and sorting and cleaning. She had a right to expect a little understanding. “It’s just a couch, Dad. He won’t even go down the hallway. Ten minutes. That’s it.”
    He tightened and released his fist like he was trying to control himself. “Katie, I’m glad you’re home. I wanted you here, but there are boundaries I do not want crossed. You know my limits, and between the fighting with your ma and you turning my house upside down, you’re getting very close to pushing too far.”
    The doorbell rang, and he made a grumbling sound in his throat. “Don’t invite him over again.”
    “Fine,” she said with an edge honed by years of arguments.
    Her dad marched toward the door and swung it open with annoyance. “Hope you ate some spinach this morning,” he said without a hint of humor.
    Asher’s brow pinched together as he tried to come up with an acceptable response, but her dad didn’t give him time.
    “Whatever. You’re too young to know what I’m talking about anyway. It’s in the dining room. Just follow the sound of Katie huffing and puffing.”
    She’d seen her dad be rude, but never like this. Every word was stretched and harsh, like he thought Asher had personally wronged him in some way. Only she knew he hadn’t. His only crime was that he’d been born to the town’s pastor.
    Asher’s attempted smile communicated something between complete discomfort and mild defensiveness as he stepped over the threshold. Her dad shoved a piece of cardboard under the door to prop it open, still grumbling under his breath.
    “So this is where you’ve been hiding for the last few days.” Asher examined the partially cleared space that had stolen a week of her life. “It looks good.”
    “Hardly.” There were still two columns of boxes and half-built metal shelves in the room, now shoved to the side so they could move the eyesore beneath her hands. She leaned in and whispered, “Sorry about my dad.”
    “No worries. I’m used to it.” He circled the couch and settled at the other end. “How do you want to do this?”
    “Personally, I want to burn it, but I’ve been told I’m being rash.”
    “Trying to move this thing last-minute and without proper manpower is what’s rash,” her dad griped, joining them in the room. If the aggravated energy between her and her father bothered Asher, he gave no sign of it. His face was a mask of concentration as he measured the couch and then the doorway.
    “I think it will fit through the opening with just a slight tilt. I guess we can try to carry it. Mr. Stone, can you and Katie take that side?”
    The older man nodded.
    Asher squatted down to get a grip. Katie and her dad did the same, each taking one corner. After the count of three, they all lifted. Heat ripped through Katie’s fingers and up her arms, but together they got the monstrosity airborne.
    After fifteen grueling minutes, multiple readjustments of the upholstered beast, countless bursts of angry commands from