The Magnolia Story(40)

And that’s when I first realized that something wasn’t right.

I thought about how often I found myself frustrated when the kids would play in the formal living and dining areas. There I was on my couch, in my “beautiful” house, knowing that our business was growing like crazy and I had everything in the world to be thankful for—yet feeling like a total failure.

I looked around and saw a lot of “perfection,” and I thought, But where do my kids sit? Why don’t the kids have a play space of their own anywhere in this house?

Suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks. In my nonstop efforts to make the house look good and to raise our baby of a business, I had failed to create a space where my children could thrive and be kids. I had neglected to create a home that my most important babies could love too.





ELEVEN



HOMELESS

JoJo, you awake?”

Of course I wasn’t awake. It was midnight. Chip had awakened me from a sound sleep. “What is it?”

“A neighbor called. There’s a homeless guy on their front porch, and they aren’t sure what to do. I’ll be right back.”

Even though I was only half-awake and he had caught me completely off guard, there was no way I was leaving this to chance, so as he left the room, I called after him: “Do not bring him home with you!”

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but off I went. And that night, on a neighbor’s front porch, I was introduced to Cedric, a guy who had made a lot of bad choices in his life but who had come to the end of his rope.

I knew Jo wasn’t about to have Cedric come sleep on our couch with four babies asleep inside. And I could tell our neighbors needed him to leave as well. So I came up with the only plan I could think of. At one o’clock in the morning, we went to the store and I bought a few blankets and towels, and I took him to a flip house we were about to put on the market. The next day when I went back to check on him, Cedric was still there.

We needed to get that house into final shape for an open house, so Chip offered to put Cedric up in a hotel for a few days in exchange for his doing some work for us. Cedric said yes. He was so grateful for the shelter we had given him that he got out there and worked his tail off for us. It’s as if all it took was one chance for him to discover his own work ethic. He started attending a Bible study after that and received services from the Mercy House, a halfway house of sorts that helps people with problems get back on their feet. Come to find out, Cedric had just gotten out of jail, and here he was turning his life around thanks in part to our tiny little bit of help. It was awesome to witness.

As difficult as it was sometimes to put up with Chip’s out-of-the-blue surprises, the size of that man’s heart brought tears to my eyes. Whether it was a homeless man in the middle of the night, the troubled kids who went to school on Third Street, or neighborhood kids by the shop on Bosque Boulevard, Chip somehow managed to notice them and touch their lives. He became a mentor and father figure to so many people.

Sometimes his kindness and generosity scared me to death, of course—especially when he would stop to pick up a hitchhiker or help someone whose car had broken down on the side of the highway. And I really did push him to do less of that after we had children. But that’s just Chip. He can’t seem to help it. He’s always looking out for someone who looks like they need a break or a helping hand.

He has been modeling those same ideals to our children from the time they were born, and to watch him teach them to value people, to look them in the eye and say “Thank you” and “Hello,” is wonderful for me. Chip just automatically does these sorts of basic things that a lot of us overlook and don’t realize make a difference.

When I was in my twenties, I thought I’d grow up to be the most liberal parent in the world, but I’ve actually turned out to be pretty strict and old-fashioned. I’m teaching the kids to always say, “Yes, sir” and “No, sir,” and I don’t want them playing video games or sitting around doing nothing all day.

I’m right there with him. If these kids want to play, I want them to use their minds and their hands and to go outside.

It’s funny how Chip can be so liberal on one hand and so conservative on the other, though. He really is unpredictable. I saw it from the very beginning, and I learned again and again that I simply could not put this man in a box. Just as soon as I would get in the rhythm of some preconceived expectation I thought he fit into, he would turn on a dime and do something completely unpredictable. Then I would have to readjust and recalculate until I finally realized there are just no stereotypes that fit Chip Gaines.

It wasn’t too long after our adventure with Cedric that Chip came home with an even bigger surprise: he’d found a couple who wanted to buy our Castle Heights house, so he’d gone out and bought us a new house to move into and flip.

“What?” I said. “Chip, I love this house.”

“You were just saying this house isn’t good for the kids.”

“I know, but we can change that. I mean, Chip—this isn’t just another house. This is a forever house.”

“Jo, this was never meant to be our forever house. We’re not ready for our forever house. This isn’t everything for us. It isn’t everything we want. This is a flip house. It’s a big flip house. It’s a nice flip house. But it’s still a flip house. We knew that going into it.”