Summer

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Summer Page 14

by Karen Kingsbury


  “Hi.” He still had a way of making her insides turn to mush, the way he’d done since the first day she met him. She patted the spot beside her on the picnic table. “We had a good talk with Marissa.”

  “I was praying for you.”

  She smiled. “I could tell.” The late-afternoon air held a chill. She slid closer to him. “I told her she had to tell her parents, and we talked about the pregnancy clinic in town, how abortion wasn’t fair to her baby.”

  “Did she hear you?”

  “I don’t know.” Jenny looked past their back field to the trees at the edge of their property. A hawk circled high overhead, probably the same one that always hung around out back. She took a long breath. “She’s confused. Her boyfriend’s filling her head with trash.”

  Jim clenched his jaw. “Our boys better not do that.”

  “They won’t.” She put her hand on his knee. “At least I hope they won’t.”

  He leaned into her, and the two of them were quiet for a few minutes. Jenny loved times like this, when they were so close they could practically read each other’s minds. When the Lord said, “The two will become one flesh,” He must’ve been thinking about couples like her and Jim.

  The dogs spotted them at the same time, and both of them came running up. Reggie and Mandy were yellow Labs, one twelve years old and fit, the other three and endearing but strangely lazy. From a distance they could easily tell which one was Mandy because of the way she waddled along at her own pace. Jim held out his hand and patted both their heads. “Hey, puppies. How’s it going?” He grinned. “They get credit for at least one lost touchdown.”

  Jenny laughed. “Let me guess . . . a tackle?”

  “Definitely.” Jim rubbed beneath their chins next. “Connor was in a full run for the end zone, no one in his way, when the dogs galloped up and cut him off.” He laughed. “Connor hesitated, and Reggie jumped up and licked his face. That tripped him and the touchdown was gone.”

  “I’ll bet Connor loved that.” She petted Mandy.

  “Okay . . .” Jim clapped and pointed. The dogs took the cue and ran off together toward the far reaches of the field. “They’re such good dogs.”

  “You’re a good trainer.” Jenny snuggled close to him again. “By the way, did Justin tell you what they’ll be studying in school next week?”

  “Slavery.” Jim leaned his elbow on one knee and looked at her. “Makes me wish we could keep them young forever.”

  “I was thinking that too.”

  “I mean, they need to know.” Jim put his hands behind him on the picnic table and leaned back. “Slavery was part of our country’s heritage, an awful part. They need to understand that. But right now they see it the way we’ve taught them. God has a different color for every person. People will hate you because you’re black, and they’ll hate you because you’re white. Each time the problem is with the person who’s hating, because God made each person the exact right color.”

  Jenny smiled. “Maybe you should teach the unit.”

  He stared into the distance. “I think we need to have a family meeting tonight. Talk about racism so they’ll hear it from us first.”

  “Hmmm.” Jenny liked the idea. “Because it works a lot of different ways.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Not just your skin color. They’ll hate you for being a Christian or a Jew.”

  “For being uncoordinated or having red hair.” Jim was quiet again. “The fact is, our country messed up badly back in the days of slavery. And if we don’t fight for all people to be free, it could happen again—with some other people group.”

  “Yep.” Jenny patted her knees. “Sounds like a family meeting to me.”

  Jim turned to her, and with one hand he framed her face. “These are the easy years—you know that, right?”

  Jenny thought about the struggle earlier with Marissa. “It could certainly be a lot worse.”

  “Bailey is navigating the waters of being a teenager with all the grace and maturity I’ve always expected from her.” Jim sucked in a quick breath. “But the boys are next. Soon they’ll all be driving and wanting to date and trying to figure out what’s important.”

  When he put it that way, Jenny couldn’t help but agree. “So we enjoy these years while we can.”

  “Exactly.” Jim kissed her, slow enough that it made her remember how it felt to be young and in love.

  She drew back and smiled at him. “We need to pray.”

  “Every day.”

  And with that, they went inside to gather up the kids for the family meeting. As they did, Jenny was grateful that this time the topic was something they could all agree on, something straightforward with obvious truths they could stand on. The meeting reminded her to pray for Marissa, who should that very evening be asking her parents to have a meeting.

  One that would be more difficult than any other in all her life.

  Ashley was cutting Devin’s peanut-butter sandwich into bite-size pieces when Landon walked into the kitchen.

  “Cole caught another frog.”

  She glanced out the open back window. “There must be a hundred of them in the bushes out back.”

  “Sounds more like a thousand.” Landon kissed her. “That kid loves frogs. I can’t get him inside.”

  “He can play a little longer.” She checked the clock on the microwave. “After church, Sundays should be for catching frogs. If you’re a little boy, anyway.”

  Landon gave her a sheepish look. “Or even a big boy.” He tousled Devin’s hair.

  Devin had jelly on his cheeks and on most of his fingers. He reached up to Landon. “Kisses, Daddy!”

  “Sure, buddy.” Landon kissed a clean spot on their son’s cheek. Then he moved to the refrigerator. “Leftover chicken tonight?”

  “That or nut-nut butter.” Ashley sat down in the chair closest to Devin’s high chair. She felt wonderful, and the mood in their home had lightened over the weekend. Despite a few thunderstorms, the sun was back, and her baby girl was more active than ever. Ashley had no doubt about the miracle God was working in her. Everything was going to be just fine.

  Landon opened the fridge and lifted the tinfoil from the leftover chicken, snagging a piece. He popped it in his mouth, covered the chicken, and pushed it back into place. “I had to test it.”

  “And?” Ashley could feel the sparkle in her eyes.

  “It’ll be a great dinner.” He leaned on the fridge. “Our frog hunter’s bound to be hungry. What about you?”

  “Chicken sounds great. In an hour maybe, okay?” She focused on Devin. “Want some milk?”

  “Milk, milk, milk!” Devin banged his hands on his high chair tray. Then he laughed as if that were the funniest thing he’d ever said or done.

  Landon opened the fridge again, pulled out the milk, and handed it to Ashley.

  Ashley poured Devin some milk in a sippy cup, then set it down on his tray. She looked at Landon.

  The smile and easy way he’d had a few minutes earlier was gone. Instead he looked pensive as he studied her.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  Landon opened his mouth to say something, but then he pressed his lips together. He shook his head and leaned back against the fridge once more. “I’ve wanted to talk to you all weekend, but . . . I don’t know. There didn’t seem to be a right time.”

  “Talk about what?” Ashley steeled herself.

  “The baby, Ashley.” Landon crossed his arms. “We’ve been walking around like nothing’s wrong, like we never got the diagnosis.”

  Ashley felt the walls of normalcy she was living within begin to crumble. “The baby’s moving.” She made a sound that was part laugh, part desperation. “She feels healthier than either of the boys ever did.”

  “That’s good. But . . .” Landon was struggling. He hung his head for a moment, and when he looked up, she could tell he didn’t want to say whatever was next. “I guess I think it’d still be smart to have a plan.”

>   Shock blew its acid breath straight into her face. “A plan?” She felt dizzy. Was he saying what she thought he was? “You mean like Brooke’s plan?”

  “No!” Landon let his hands fall to his sides. He looked angry and misunderstood. “Not that sort of plan. Let me finish.”

  “Fine.” Ashley didn’t want to fight, not after such a great weekend.

  “I’m only thinking that maybe we need to think things through, in case the baby really has this . . . this problem.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “How can we ask God for a miracle if we’re doubting His abilities?”

  “I’m not doubting Him, Ashley.” Outside they could hear Cole singing something about chickens and roosters and long-legged frogs. “I’m on your side, remember?”

  Ashley was shaking, but she ordered herself to calm down. “I want to enjoy my pregnancy, my baby moving and kicking inside me.” She lowered her voice. “I believe God’s going to give us a miracle. Our baby’s going to be fine.”

  “I want to believe that too. But maybe we should see a specialist. Maybe someone can help us.”

  “There you go.” Ashley began to shake harder. Why couldn’t he understand? “I tell you I believe our baby’s fine, and you say we should see a specialist? Why, Landon? Can’t you trust me?” She put her hands over her midsection. “If something was wrong, I would know it. I would feel it. But she’s moving around like any other healthy child.”

  He sighed and his shoulders sank. “You have to face the possibilities.”

  Devin banged on his high chair tray again. “All done. . . . All done.”

  Ashley turned away from her husband and tended to their son. The whole time her hands trembled and her heart raced. If Landon wouldn’t believe with her, then no one would.

  When Devin was cleaned up, she glanced at Landon. Suddenly the look on his face, the fear and doubt about their unborn baby, told her she had just one choice. She had to get out of the house or she’d scream.

  “Ashley . . . I mean, think about it.” Her husband’s tone said he thought she was a lunatic grasping at straws in a situation where there was nothing left to grasp at.

  She grabbed her purse and dug around for her keys. “I’m going for a drive.”

  “Ashley, don’t. . . .” Landon came to her. “I want the best for you, for our little girl. That’s all.”

  “Then why can’t you believe God’ll give her a miracle?”

  “God’s still God even if things don’t go your way.” His words were slow and profound.

  Ashley hated the way that made sense. “Miracles, Landon. We’re talking miracles. You of all people should know about miracles.” Her voice broke and she moved closer to him, aiming her words straight at his heart. “You should’ve died rescuing the little boy in that apartment fire. But God had other plans for you. He gave you a miracle, and He’ll give our daughter one too.”

  Any trace of anger left Landon’s face. These were familiar roles for them, roles they hadn’t played in a long time. Ashley threatening to run and Landon trying to think of some way to make her stay. “I believe in miracles, Ash.” He touched his fingers to her face. “I have you, don’t I?”

  His touch melted her. She took his hand and kissed it. “Then how could you want me to see a specialist? I don’t want doctors or tests or a diagnosis.” She could feel her old self stepping in, the one that was wildly independent. “All I want is to feel my little girl moving and growing inside me and to believe—” she closed her eyes—“with everything I am that when she’s born she’ll be healthy and whole.”

  She opened her eyes and pulled her keys from her purse. No matter what he said, she needed time alone. “Can you watch the boys?”

  Landon looked hurt. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not sure.” She took a few steps back. “I need to think.”

  “What about dinner?”

  “I’m not hungry.” She nodded toward the backyard. “I’ll be back by the time you both eat.”

  “Ash—” Landon’s eyes pleaded with her—“don’t get crazy on me, okay?”

  She hesitated. “I won’t. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Ashley went to the garage and her van waiting inside. She was halfway down the street before she knew where she was headed. Because if her mother were here, she’d have at least one person who wouldn’t doubt. Her mother would stroke her hair and give that look of quiet certainty that yes, of course everything was going to be okay. Her mother would’ve been telling the rest of the family how important it was to believe, how doubt wouldn’t get them anywhere.

  And so there was really only one place she could go. The cemetery on the edge of town, the one where the grass had long since grown back over the place where her mother was buried.

  Ashley drove slowly, carefully. This wasn’t a fit of rage; it was a quest to hold on to whatever lifeline of hope God might give her. As she neared the cemetery, she felt her baby daughter move inside her. A smile tugged at her lips. “I feel you, little one. You’re going to be perfect and whole and healthy. I know it.”

  The cemetery was empty except for a few cars. She had maybe fifteen minutes of sunlight left. Ashley climbed out of her van and walked past the other markers, through a grove of bushes, and on toward her mother’s tombstone. She would’ve known the way blindfolded. Because this was the place where she sometimes had to go, the only place besides the old Baxter house where she could still feel like her mother was with her.

  As she walked, she thought about Landon. He didn’t understand her occasional trips to the cemetery. “Your mom isn’t there, Ash. You know that.”

  “The part I used to love is there.” Ashley would feel her throat choke up at the thought. “The part I would hug when my world was crashing in is there beneath that stone.”

  Landon would give up at that point. He had told her a number of times that everyone was entitled to grieve in their own way. But for himself, he wanted to think of her mother happy and healthy in heaven, more alive than ever. Well, fine. Ashley wanted to think of her that way too. But the fact remained that her body was buried at the cemetery.

  And now—like other times before—Ashley wanted only to be with her.

  She came to the small stone bench by her mother’s grave and sat down. For a while she kept her eyes on the sky, the fading light. But then she lowered them to the words etched in the marble. Like always it took a few minutes for it to all soak in again, for Ashley to accept once more that her vibrant, loving mother was really gone.

  Shadows fell over the grave site, and Ashley bowed her head. “Please, God, tell my mom how much I need her.” She whispered the words and waited. She expected to feel a reassurance, the sense that her mother’s endless hope might somehow join her own, solidifying the feeling of an impending miracle.

  Ashley waited and waited. But all she could hear were the words of her husband, her best friend. “God’s still God even when things don’t go your way.” She looked up at the gathering storm clouds in the northern sky. A chill came across her arms, and she hugged herself. Her mother would’ve believed for Ashley, but Landon believed too.

  Then in a rush, it hit her.

  Landon believed not just that God could give them a miracle but that God might not. And that even then, He was still God, still sovereign. The way He’d been when her mother wasn’t healed from cancer. Landon was right, but she hadn’t been willing to see that until now.

  Ashley needed to hope, to expect a miracle where her baby girl was concerned. But the miracle might not come. An ache sliced through her heart and settled deep inside her. The child was God’s, not hers or Landon’s. Whatever happened, God would use it in His perfect plan. She felt her throat tighten, and her vision blurred. Had God brought her all the way out here so she could see the obvious? If it only took belief for miracles to happen, her mother would still be alive.

  God loved her mother, and still her mother had died. Exactly like Landon had said
. The ache inside Ashley became a great sense of remorse. Landon was so good to her, letting her impulsively leave him and the boys. He had always given her the space she needed, and this evening was no exception.

  She took another look at her mother’s tombstone and then hurried back to her van. The miles couldn’t pass fast enough as she drove home, and when she pulled into the driveway, she could hardly wait to get inside.

  Landon was sitting next to Cole, the two of them eating chicken and buttered bread when she burst through the garage door and into the kitchen.

  Landon turned, and his expression told her he wasn’t angry. “Hi.”

  “Where’d you go, Mom?” Cole had a bite of chicken in his mouth. Devin was playing with his Elmo doll. Cole wrinkled his brow. “Dad said you took a drive.”

  “I did.” Her eyes never left her husband’s. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  He pushed back from the table and patted Cole’s shoulder. “Be right back, buddy.”

  Landon followed her around the corner into the family room. When they were barely out of Cole’s sight, Ashley pulled him into her arms. “I’m sorry. Landon, I’m so sorry.”

  She felt the tears, but she didn’t want to cry. She still wanted to believe there was nothing to be sad about, no reason to doubt. But when she drew back, she met Landon’s concerned eyes, and she had to tell him. “I’ll see a specialist if you want me to.”

  “Honey . . .” He stroked her hair and studied her. “You don’t have to. I just thought maybe . . .”

  “No, you’re right. That’s the responsible thing to do.” She clung to his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have walked out.”

  “Sometimes we need that, Ash. I understand.” He kissed her again, and when he caught her eyes, she could see all the way to his soul. “But next time you walk out, take me with you. Okay?”

  She laughed, but it was wrapped around a cry. “I love you, Landon.”

  “Everything’s going to be okay.” His expression told her he meant what he was saying but not necessarily because their baby was going to be healthy. Because with God and each other, they would find a way through. He pressed his fingers to her abdomen. As he did, their baby kicked his hand. “Hey! I felt that.”

 

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