Summer

by Karen Kingsbury

  She nodded, overcome.

  Before Landon could say anything else, Dr. McDaniel walked in. “Looks like we’re ready.” Victory shone in her smile, victory and determination. “Let’s make this happen.”

  “I can stay, right?” Landon looked more nervous than he had all morning.

  “The whole time. I’ll get ready and meet you in the delivery room.” Dr. McDaniel put her hand on the door, then looked at Ashley. “They’ll be in to get you and give you the epidural in a few minutes.”

  When the doctor was gone, Landon bent over Ashley and kissed her on the lips. “You’re the bravest woman I know, Ashley Baxter Blake. I won’t leave your side.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and held him. “I’m not brave.” She sniffed a few times.

  “Yes, you are.” He kissed her again and stood up just as two nurses and the anesthesiologist entered the room. “You can do this.” He backed up, leaving room for them to work on her. “We both can.”

  A stream of people came and left from Ashley’s room, and in a blur of activity she had to lie on her side and bring her knees toward her chest. The epidural needle hurt but only for a minute. She kept her hands on her abdomen. “It’s okay, Sarah,” she whispered. “It won’t be long now, baby. Mommy’s waiting for you.”

  Please, God, let her live. Let us have this day. . . .

  The prayer came as easily as breathing, even here, where God had allowed her the greatest heartache of her life. A story in the Bible showed the friends of Jesus staying with Him even after nearly everyone else had fled. What about you? Jesus asked them. The friends said simply that there was nowhere else to go, because Jesus was the Son of God.

  And so it was for Ashley. There would be no turning her back on the God who had given her Landon and Cole and Devin, the God who had given her a family whose love knew no bounds. The Lord alone had forgiven her and made her capable of forgiving. And He had given her Sarah. She needed Him now more than ever.

  Landon kept his word. Even when it felt like a dozen people were working on her, wheeling her into the delivery room, talking in hurried, clipped voices, he was always beside her, his hand on her shoulder or at the base of her neck.

  “The delivery won’t take long,” Dr. McDaniel told her.

  Normally, the doctor explained, the father would be allowed to watch a C-section. But this time—since they weren’t sure exactly what condition Sarah would be in when she was born—they wanted Landon to stand near the head of the bed. He did as he was told, holding tight to Ashley’s hand as the surgery got under way.

  Ashley felt a series of tugs and stretches but no pain. No one had told her what to expect at this point, whether her baby would cry or whether the birth defect made crying impossible. Those were details they might’ve learned if they’d visited Dr. McDaniel more often, but Ashley wouldn’t have changed a thing. There was no way to prepare for the birth of a baby with anencephaly. It was a road they could only walk together and with God leading the way. Whatever happened next.

  There was a flurry of activity, and Dr. McDaniel grinned. “Oh, Ashley . . . your daughter’s beautiful.”

  As soon as she got out the last word, an infant’s cry pierced the room.

  Ashley couldn’t move or breathe or speak. She had cried more today than she had in a long time, but still the tears came. Rivers of them. The beautiful sound was coming from her daughter, from the baby she already knew so well. As long as Ashley lived she would remember the sound of that cry; it resonated deep inside her, creating a bond between her and her little girl that nothing could ever break.

  Landon leaned over her, and his tears mixed with hers. They said nothing, because there were no words for a moment like this.

  Again there was a rush of activity as their baby was whisked to the far end of the room.

  Dr. McDaniel was still working on Ashley, stitching her up. She peered over the curtain. “Your little girl is very strong.” Tears glistened in the doctor’s eyes. “They’ll clean her up, and you can hold her. It could take a few minutes.”

  Ashley didn’t want to ask any questions. Instead she held on to the sound of Sarah’s cry, even as her baby was moved from that room and into another. For a moment, panic seized her. She tensed up and looked at the doctor. “Where’re they taking her?”

  “Your husband gave us her new clothes. The nurses want to dress her so she’s ready to see you.”

  This part wasn’t normal, but it made sense. The back of Sarah’s head would be covered only by a thin membrane of skin and hair. Great care would be needed to dress her. The minutes passed slowly. Ashley wanted to push the screen off her stomach and climb down from the table so she could find Sarah.

  But Landon was here, helping her survive the wait, whispering quiet prayers and telling her again and again that she could get through this.

  Finally, Dr. McDaniel was finished with her. Nurses stepped in and covered her with fresh, warm blankets, and Ashley was wheeled into the biggest labor room she had ever seen.

  “We understand you’ll have a few visitors.” The nurse smiled.

  “Yes. Quite a few.” Ashley was grateful that so far no one was showing her pity. She didn’t want pity and sadness and sorrow. She wanted a celebration.

  The nurses were still getting her situated when Dr. McDaniel walked in carrying a small pink bundle. The woman was far more mother than doctor in this moment. She handed the baby to Ashley. “I’d like to introduce you to your daughter.”

  As soon as Ashley had the baby in her arms, their eyes connected. A quiet gasp filled Ashley’s heart and soul. “Landon . . . look at her!” She brought her fingers to her daughter’s soft cheeks. “She’s perfect.”

  And she was. Dr. McDaniel had warned them—in one of the moments when Ashley was barely able to hear the details—that their daughter could be partly or grossly deformed. But that wasn’t the case at all. Sarah was dressed in the outfit her father had picked out, the matching hat covering her head. Her eyes were open, and her hands moved gracefully near her chin. It was impossible to tell there was a thing wrong with her, and for a minute, Ashley wondered if she’d been healed, if maybe she didn’t have a neural tube defect after all.

  She lifted questioning eyes to the doctor. “She’s . . . is her head . . . ?”

  “Yes, Ashley.” A sad certainty colored the woman’s expression. “You don’t have long.”

  Ashley nodded slowly, accepting the reality at hand. She looked down at her daughter again. “Hi, Sarah. . . .” She held her up enough so they were facing each other. “Remember my voice? I’m your mommy.”

  Sarah’s eyes looked straight into Ashley’s. The eyes that would never have the chance to look at her across the dinner table. Eyes that were deep blue, like her own. Ashley memorized the look of them, because some far-off day in heaven, she would look into them again. And when she did, she wanted the two of them to recognize each other.

  Landon leaned in closer, the three of them in their own private world. “She looks like you, Ashley. Just like you.”

  “Here.” She carefully handed the baby to him.

  He nuzzled her close and whispered, “Hi, princess. . . . Your daddy loves you, Sarah.”

  Twice more they passed her back and forth, marveling at her tiny nose and delicate features, amazed at her alertness.

  Then it was time to let the rest of the family meet her. As per the plan Landon had created, Dr. McDaniel let Cole in the room first. He came in looking small and scared, his eyes wide. Almost immediately he fixed his attention on the pink bundle in Ashley’s arms.

  “Is that her?” He walked closer, and when he reached her side, he stood on his tiptoes.

  “Yes, this is your sister, Sarah.” Landon stepped back so Cole could be closer.

  “Isn’t she pretty?” Ashley’s heart was beating harder than before. She didn’t want Cole to be afraid of the baby, but he was acting stiff, uncomfortable.

  “She doesn’t look sick.” Confusion filled his
voice. “I thought you said she was sick.”

  “She is.” Landon put his arm around Cole’s shoulders. “She won’t be with us very long.”

  “Maybe the doctor’s wrong.” Cole looked at Landon. “Can I hold her?”

  Ashley felt herself relax. This was what she expected of Cole, the strong determination. If he wanted to hold her, then his time with Sarah would be all Ashley had hoped it would be.

  Cole sat on the chair next to the bed, and Landon gently lifted Sarah from Ashley’s arms.

  “Be real careful, okay?” Landon tenderly placed the baby in Cole’s arms. The nurses had bundled her in the blanket in such a way that it would protect her head for this type of handling. Landon stooped down so his face was next to Cole’s as they studied Sarah.

  “She’s so light.” He grinned at Landon and then at Ashley. “She’s the lightest little sister ever.”

  “Devin was that light when he was little.” Ashley leaned onto her side so she could see. “You can sing to her, if you want.”

  Cole thought about that. “Okay. I’ll sing the one you always sing, Mom.” He looked at Sarah and hummed a few notes. Then in the softest voice, he began to sing. ‘Jesus loves you! this I know—’ he leaned closer and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers—‘for the Bible tells me so; little ones to Him belong . . .’”

  Ashley didn’t dare blink. In the short list of memories that would make up Sarah’s place in their family, this would be among her favorites. And when Cole reached “They are weak but He is strong,”Ashley felt a rush of truth in her heart. She’d been singing the song ever since she found out she was pregnant, singing it to Cole and Devin and knowing that her unborn baby could hear every word.

  But now the song held so much more significance. Because no baby was weaker than their little Sarah, but that was okay. No one was stronger than her God.

  Cole sang the song once more, and then he handed the baby back to Landon.

  “Cole, would you ask everyone else to come in?” Landon took a deep breath. As Cole left, Landon looked at Ashley. “I could stay like this for hours, just the three of us.”

  “Me too.” She held out her hands and brought Sarah close to her chest. “But I want her to meet everyone who loves her.”

  They didn’t need to remind each other that time was short. The doctor had already told them. There was the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside the room, and when the door opened, the entire Baxter family filed in. Her father was at the front of the line, and he came up first.

  “Look at her, Dad.” Only a handful of times had Ashley felt so much joy, so much love. She breathed in deep, keeping the tears at bay. This was the celebration of Sarah’s life, and Ashley wanted it to be marked with smiles. “Isn’t she pretty?”

  Her dad took the baby, and for an instant she saw on his face the same emotions she had felt earlier. But he had probably talked to Dr. McDaniel in the hall. He knew the truth, even if the evidence in his arms told him otherwise. John brought the baby close and kissed her cheek. “She looks like you, Ashley. The way you did as a baby.”

  “Really?”

  “Same nose, same cheeks . . .”

  From the back of the room, something caught Ashley’s attention and she looked up. There, with a camera slung over one shoulder and a video camera over the other, was Brooke. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she smiled at Ashley. “Your baby is beautiful.” She worked her way past the others. “Dad thought maybe you’d like me to take pictures.”

  And like that, the ice between them melted.

  Brooke passed the cameras to Peter, then came closer. “I’m sorry, Ashley.” She bent over her, and the two embraced. “I was wrong.” Brooke pulled back and searched Ashley’s eyes. “This has changed me. Forever.”

  “She’s so precious, Brooke.” Happy tears choked Ashley’s voice. Love was providing a backdrop for this day, breaking down walls and bringing victory, just like she’d prayed. “Wait till you hold her.”

  Brooke looked at their father. “Can I?”

  “Of course.” He handed Sarah to Brooke.

  For a long time Brooke simply stared at the baby, her face washed in wonder. “Hi, Sarah. I’m your aunt Brooke, and I love you. I love you very much.”

  Ashley couldn’t fight the tears any longer. She let them come, but she never stopped smiling. Because this was another of those moments, the memories of Sarah’s life that she would never, ever forget.

  Each of them had a chance to hold Sarah. Some of them whispered private things to her, and others cooed and smiled at her, the way they might with any baby.

  An hour into their time together, a nurse came in and took Sarah for a quick checkup. Ashley didn’t ask what they were checking. It didn’t matter.

  But when they brought her back, the nurse’s expression was grave. “You don’t have long. An hour, maybe two.” She handed Sarah to Ashley. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Ashley gazed into her daughter’s eyes. “She’s the most loved little baby ever.”

  The nurse smiled and excused herself, and the outpouring of affection and attention continued.

  Ashley watched as Sarah was passed to Dayne and Katy hovered next to him. She wasn’t sure, but Ashley sensed that her daughter’s life might be causing a breakthrough for her brother and his wife. That here—in a hospital room marked by life and death—Hollywood and its gossip maybe seemed ridiculously unimportant.

  When they passed the baby on to Kari and Ryan, Ashley noticed something encouraging. Dayne put his arms around Katy and held her. Like a drowning man holds tight to a lifeline, he held her. They whispered to each other and Katy smiled, her eyes bright the way they used to be.

  So maybe this was the miracle of Sarah’s life. That she was able to bring Katy and Dayne back together before they might’ve walked away from everything good and right and true.

  Ashley watched as Maddie and Hayley and Jessie took turns cooing at Sarah. Cole kept pace with them, moving from one of his cousins to the next and commenting each time about how pretty Sarah was. “She likes you, Maddie. See? She’s smiling at you,” he said. And then when Hayley held her with the help of Peter, Cole said it again. “She likes you too, Hayley. See that look on her face? That means she likes you.”

  Ryan had Devin on his hip. He brought the child to Landon, who was again holding Sarah. Devin had his pacifier in his mouth, but as he stared at Sarah, he pulled it out and pointed. “Baby!”

  “Yes.” Landon kissed Devin’s cheek. “That’s your baby sister.”

  Cole stood on his tiptoes again and peeked at Sarah. “She likes you, Devin. See that look in her eyes? She likes you a lot.”

  Ashley realized she was crying but only from a place of joy that knew no limit.

  And through all of it, every precious minute, Brooke kept the video camera aimed at baby Sarah. When she had footage of each person holding her, whispering to her, and praying over her, she switched cameras and took dozens of still shots. No question they would have much to remember this time by.

  As the second hour passed, Landon brought Sarah back to Ashley. His look was solemn. “I don’t think she’s doing well.”

  Ashley looked at her daughter, and she could see the difference. Sarah’s face had gone from pink to a washed-out gray. Her eyes were still open, but she was blinking them more than before, the way Devin did when he was fighting sleep. Only Sarah wasn’t fighting sleep.

  She was fighting death.

  And Ashley knew that this too was a miracle. Because she felt inside her the strength to help Sarah let go. She looked up and met the eyes of each person in the room, and only then did she realize that Elaine hadn’t yet been in. “Dad, could you tell Elaine I’d like to see her?”

  Her father left, and when he returned, he had Elaine at his side. A picture that looked right to Ashley, more right than she could’ve ever imagined.

  Ashley held out her hand. “Elaine . . .”

  The woman came, and though she was n
ot Ashley’s mother and could never take that place, she had brought a sort of love to the day that only a mother could bring. Elaine took her hand and smiled first at her, then at Sarah. “Your baby’s beautiful, Ashley.”

  “Thank you.” Ashley couldn’t say much. Her emotions were almost more than she could handle. But as her eyes met Elaine’s, she hoped Elaine might understand what she was trying to say, the words filling her heart. The thanks for loving her father when he was his most sad and lonely and the thanks for allowing the transition to happen slowly, in God’s timing. But most of all, the thanks for loving Sarah enough to buy her a gift, to understand that she deserved a party the same as any other baby.

  Though she couldn’t find the words, Ashley was certain deep in her heart that Elaine understood at least some of what she was trying to say. As she was handing Sarah to Elaine, the door opened.

  A deliveryman walked in. “This the Baxter party?”

  Ashley smiled at the question. The Baxter party. “Yes.” She laughed even through her tears. “This is the Baxter party.”

  “Well, I’ve got more flowers and balloons than I know what to do with.” He looked around. “No way they’re gonna fit in here with all of you.”

  A chorus of laughter came from everyone in the room.

  “I guess just bring in what you can.” Landon took Sarah from Elaine. He nodded to the delivery guy. “You can leave the rest out in the hallway.”

  The man brought in four bouquets of pink helium balloons and three vases bursting with pink roses. When he was finished, he wiped his brow and looked at Landon. “I got lots more out there. Looks like congratulations are in order.”

  “Yes.” Landon grinned. “They are. Thank you.”

  “Who are they from?” Ashley asked the question almost as an afterthought. Everyone they knew and loved was here.

  The guy looked at his clipboard. “Says here they’re from Dayne and Katy. No last name.”