“I’m tired.” She was still shivering.
“I know but give me one more really good push.”
Tamar raised her knees and pushed while I pulled on the long cord until the sack came out of her. Clyde looked like he was going to throw up. “You can look away now.”
“Too late,” he said. “I’m messed up for life.”
I reached for a piece of gauze I’d cut from the First Aid kit and tied the cord off at about six inches from the baby’s belly. I used the knife to slice below it. Mother and daughter were separated.
“How did you know where to cut?” Clyde asked.
I raised a hand and wiped the sweat off my forehead. Suddenly my body remembered how cold it was and I shivered too. “You don’t forget the details of an event like childbirth. I heard the nurse say, ‘catch the baby and tie off the cord at six inches.’” I raised a finger. “She told the women with her that the distance from the top of your pinky to the first line on your finger is about an inch.” My shoulders dropped. I was exhausted. “Catch the baby and tie off the cord. Get the afterbirth out. I’ll never forget that.”
I wiped the baby off with the cloth we’d had warming next to the heater. Tamar was trembling uncontrollably, but she pulled her close. I piled all the clothing we’d unpacked on top of her to try to warm her up. It took a few minutes for her body to relax.
I pulled the choir robes from under Tamar’s bottom and placed them in the wastebasket. I unfolded another and put it down. She was still oozing blood, but that was normal. Women didn’t have to wear those diaperish looking pads for nothing. The body was going to bleed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Grateful. Thank you.”
I smiled. “What are friends for?”
Tamar chuckled and tears sprang from her eyes.
I wiped up as much as I could while Clyde added more wood to the fire.
I stood. Tamar and the baby drifted off to sleep.
After washing up, I slid my coat on. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need some fresh air.”
“So do I.”
We stepped outside. I realized Clyde was right about the darkness. It never fully enveloped the sky. The low clouds hugged the snowy mountain caps in the distance and created a hazy light. It was breathtaking.
“You did an amazing job in there,” Clyde said.
“You helped.”
“I woke up this morning and I thought, I’ll work out, pick up Thai food, and binge on TV,” he said. “That was all my day was going to consist of. Nothing and now this...”
“Yeah.” I felt the same sense of overwhelm. “This.”
Clyde hesitated like he was finding confidence. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
He leaned against the wood railing. “What happened to you after the shelter?”
Today had already been an emotional day, but I cleared my throat and told him. “We lost everything, which wasn’t much. My mother and I moved to Atlanta. We stayed for four years, and then we went back to New Orleans. We had a hard time. My mother was different. Losing her stuff took everything out of her. I had to take care of both of us. I worked almost a full-time job and went to high school. I saved every dime I could until I had a car. Then I saved some more. I was going to move us to a better apartment, but before I could find one, my mother moved her boyfriend in. All he did all day was smoke weed and play video games. I couldn’t stand it. The day after my cosmetology school graduation, I packed the car and left to go back to Atlanta.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah. I mean, I was twenty. I was all I had. I figured I could make it.” I shrugged. “I knew a few people from before, but no one I could go live with or anything, so I lived in my car for six months. I worked the worst jobs and dated worse men.”
“Men like Tony?”
I snatched my head back. “Tony came much later, but you knew?”
“The makeup was good, but there was one night you went a little light on it.”
“What night was that?”
He smiled like the memory was pleasant. “The night we went salsa dancing.”
I remembered. The perfect date. I looked into Clyde’s eyes. He’d been good to me. I’d been good to him. I’d been looking for a man like him my entire adult life, but...
“Can I ask you something else?”
I waited for his question.
“How did you develop such a close relationship with God when everything was so messed up?”
I took a deep breath. Not because it was a long story, but because he wanted to know. He’d never asked me anything like this before. God, what are you doing?
“I mean if it’s private...” Clyde’s words trailed off.
“It’s not, but you have to answer a question for me when I’m done,” I said, and he agreed. “During those years in Atlanta, I was working like four jobs. One of them was concessions at the Georgia World Congress Center. One weekend, I worked a church conference event. One of the local ministers invited me to his service. He told me to bring my appetite because there was dinner after for visitors.” I chuckled remembering it. “I went for the food.”
Clyde smiled, but I could tell he was inhaling every word.
“I kept going back for the food, or at least that’s what I told myself, but the teaching...it was good. I was soaking it all in. Before I knew it, I was in love with the word. I was in love with Jesus. I finally had the father I’d been missing my entire life.”
“Did you have a big conversion experience? You know walking down the aisle of the church and getting baptized.”
“Not really. I told the pastor I wanted to make a confession and I did. The church members had been seeing me every week, so they accepted me.”
“Interesting. I always imagined you would have a big to-do.”
“Nope, making confession to God can be as public or personal as you want. Getting to know him isn’t a moment, it’s a journey.”
Clyde was thoughtful. “What did you want to ask me?”
“How did you lose your way from the faith?”
Clyde’s intense brown eyes bore into me. “I don’t know that I was ever really there.”
I shook off the intensity of this stare. “I don’t believe you. I think something happened.”
A beat of silence passed before he said, “You know my mother was a single mom, like yours. She worked hard to keep our heads above water. She had trash jobs because she only had a high school diploma. A friend got her a position in a call center in Florida.” He smiled. “She loved Florida, and the office she was going to work in was two blocks from the beach. That was her dream.” He paused. “I’d just graduated college, but I had a big job interview, so I couldn’t ride down with her, and she wouldn’t wait until my interview was over. She drove down by herself. Straight through with only two short bathroom breaks. She was so proud of herself for being able to do that.” He got a faraway look. “Then a few days later, I got a phone call. I was told she was gone. Her landlord came to fix something. He found her.” Clyde disappeared in his memories. I took his hand as I waited for him to come back to me. “They told me she had a blood clot. It was most likely the drive.” His eyes filled with tears. He looked away.
My voice, heavy with emotion, failed me. “I’m so sorry.”
“That was the hardest time in my life, and I tried to make peace with it, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around God taking her away from me.” He stared in my eyes. I could see the pain. “I know things happen. I understand that, but she deserved better. She’d raised me alone and this move was something she was doing for herself. And don’t let me add the disappointment of her not being here to celebrate my success. I hate it.”
I raised a hand to wipe his tears. How had I not learned this in the seven months we’d been together? It was such a sad and tragic part of his life. We were silent for a few moments. “I complain about my mother all the time. I feel silly.”
&nbs
p; Clyde shook his head. He chuckled. “You have valid issues with your mother.”
“Yeah, but my best friend lost her mother. I know how much it affected her. I should have been more empathetic.”
“You’re being empathetic now.” He smiled. His eyes lingered on mine until my heart smiled with his. “Stephen’s injury taught me a lot last year. What I watched him endure gave me some perspective. Everyone has pain. You lived in a shelter and your car. That was brave.” He looked out at the mountain. He seemed lost in his thoughts again. I figured they were about his mother, but then he spoke, and I knew he was thinking about me. “You’re still brave.”
“You do what you have to when you don’t have a choice.”
“Not everyone, Kim. Some people tap out.” He glanced at me and then turned to the mountain again.
I joined him in looking at the view. “I have to admit. It’s pretty here.”
“Gorgeous.” Clyde turned back to me. His eyes swept my body from head to toe. “There’s a lot of beauty here.”
I blushed. A shiver ran over my skin and my teeth began to chatter.
Clyde chuckled. “It appears you’ve had enough air.”
I nodded and pointed a thumb in the direction of the door. “We’d better check on Tamar.”
He pulled the door open and we went in. Tamar was still resting with the baby. She was also still bleeding. The entire choir robe was covered in it. I grabbed Clyde’s hand and whispered, “That’s too much blood. Something’s not right.”
Chapter Seventeen
Clyde
Panic set in my heart. I did what I’d been doing all night. I reached into my pocket and checked my phone for a signal. I was magically expecting the situation to change.
Kim got on her knees again. She touched Tamar’s arm and shook it. She and the baby were sleeping. They’d both worked hard. Tamar stirred a little, just enough to relieve some of the pressure in my chest. She and Kim stared at each other for a moment before Tamar asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kim said.
Tamar looked from Kim to me. “I’m weak.”
Kim pulled the robe from under her. Clotted blood filled the body of it. “You’re bleeding a little.”
“Bleeding is normal I think.”
Kim didn’t look convinced. I had no idea, but it did look heavy.
“I’m going back to the road,” I interjected.
Tamar shook her head. “The temperature has dropped. You’ll freeze.”
“I’m going to try to find some help. I have to do something. If I had started walking hours ago, I would have maybe made it somewhere.”
Kim’s eyes were sad when she spoke. “You would have frozen to death.”
“I should have tried.”
“Clyde, Kim needed your help to bring the baby here. We needed you.”
I dropped to squat next to her and closed my eyes. I felt Tamar’s hand on mine. She whispered, “Pray for me. Pray for someone to find us. We’re missing. They’ve got to be looking for us.”
I nodded. “I’m still going to walk to the road. I’m going to try to see if I can get a signal. Now that the snow is lighter, I can sweep the car off and pull more from the luggage. You need clothes. You’ve soiled everything you have.”
“I’m fine. You don’t need to go out there.” Tamar insisted.
“You can’t stay wet. It’s too chilly. I’ll be careful.”
“No,” Kim interjected. “We’ll die in here if something happens to you.”
I looked at her. Did she care about me at all?
“Don’t look at me like that. You know I care about you. I think we need to stick together to stay safe.”
I stood, grabbed Kim’s arm, pulled her to me. “I don’t want her alone.” I lowered my voice again. “She doesn’t look good.”
Kim glanced back at her friend. She couldn’t disagree with me.
“I can’t be responsible for her like this. I want her safe and warm and getting medical care and able to talk to her husband and son.”
Kim reached into her pocket for her phone and handed it to me. “I have a different carrier, so try my phone too.”
“That’s a good idea.” I accepted it.
“My birthdate is the passcode,” Kim offered before I could ask. “You have an hour and then I’m coming to look for you.”
I glanced to the corner where her soggy boots were still drying. “You better borrow Tamar’s boots.”
She smiled, squeezed my hand, and the smile dropped. “Your hands are still freezing. Take Tamar’s mittens. Mittens keep hands extra warm.” The worry lines in her face were so deep it broke my heart. “Don’t fall, break your leg, or get eaten by an animal.”
I smirked. “Thank you for reminding me of the many things that can happen to me.”
I walked across the room and picked up Tamar’s mittens. Touching them felt personal. I slid them on my hands, took one last look at the two women I loved the most in the world and exited the church through the sanctuary. Once I was on the other side of the door, I fell against it and the tears I’d been pressing down made it to my eyes. All Stephen asked me to do was take care of his wife, and I was failing. I pushed off the door, wiped my eyes with his wife’s mittens and walked down the steps and into the snow again. I didn’t have time for regrets. I had to move forward again.
Chapter Eighteen
Pastor Jack
Pastor Jack was about to take off his clothes and retire for the night when the phone rang.
Nan answered, took in the bad news, and handed it to him. “It’s Bonnie Nelson.”
He greeted Bonnie. “Pastor, the hospice nurse doesn’t think my mother will make it much longer.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Did your sister and her children arrive?”
“They did. They got in around lunchtime today.” She paused before telling him what he already knew. “I know the weather is bad, but she would like to see you.”
“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll be right there.”
Sister Nelson gasped. “Oh no, Pastor, tonight isn’t necessary. I thought maybe in the morning if the roads are passable.”
“I think now is for the best.” He stood from the side of the bed. “I’ll be there soon.”
“You have to go now?”
“Her mother won’t keep.”
He left the bedroom with Nan following, shoved his feet in his boots, pulled his coat on and wrapped a scarf around his throat.
His wife crossed her arms over her chest. “Where are your gloves?”
Mischief filled his crystal-blue eyes. “Should I say they’re in the truck?”
Nan pursed her lips. “Would it be the truth?”
Pastor Jack smiled. “You know one day all the gloves you made for me are going to magically reappear.”
Nan walked to the desk, removed a pair, and handed them to him. He kissed her, thanked her, and with sorrow heavy on his heart, walked out the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Kim
I came back in the room to a fully awake Tamar.
“I need you to do two favors for me,” she said without waiting for me to inquire about what. “Go to the kitchen and get a clean glass or cup.”
I didn’t hesitate to do as I was told. After I handed it to her, I asked, “What are you going to do with it.”
“I’m going to pump my breast,” she said, putting the baby down and pulling her Christmas sweatshirt up. “It’s not milk yet, but it’ll feed her.”
I sat next to her. Tamar had fed her shortly after the birth. “Can’t you put her on your breast again?”
Tamar’s weak eyes filled with sadness. “This is in case you need it.”
My understanding came slow. She was thinking ahead, planning for if she didn’t make it.
I fell back on my butt and died a little inside. I watched as she pushed and pinched and kneaded her breast until a little thick, syrupy substance came out of the nipple. She didn’t get much,
not even a teaspoon, but she’d done her best.
“Put it in the refrigerator. I’ll try again later.”
I nodded.
“Before you go, I need my phone. I want to make videos for my family.”
I died some more. I hated she wanted to do this. She was giving up. “Tamar, no.”
“I’m weak, Kim. I have to do this, please.”
This was bad. Tamar wasn’t dramatic. I could barely move my feet, but I pushed and walked toward her. I handed her the phone and went to the kitchen to store the breast syrup. Sensing her need for privacy, I didn’t interrupt her video. I went to the restroom. After I used the toilet, I washed my hands. I dropped my elbows on the counter and sank my face into my hands and sobbed. I cried for Tamar. I cried for Clyde. She could bleed to death. He could freeze to death. “God, please help them. Please don’t let my best friend die. Please don’t let the man I love die.” The cold room further insulted me. My tears were cold. I wiped my face and walked out of the restroom. I took a seat in the sanctuary and picked up a Bible. I opened it to all the Psalms I memorized over the years about God rescuing us. I’d had so many times in my life when God had to save me, so I knew where they were.
Psalm 70, “Make haste, o God, to deliver me; make haste to help me, O Lord.”
Psalm 90:11, “For He will give His angels charge concerning you, To guard you in all your ways.”
Psalm 34:7, “The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear Him, And rescues them.”
Psalm 23:4, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”
I prayed and then I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “Worship me” to my heart. I stood and held my hands up and said the words, “Lord, I praise you. I worship you. I thank you for your many blessings today. Thank you for not letting any of us get hurt in the car accident. Thank you for this church. Thank you for the firewood and the heater. Thank you for the water and the food. Thank you for Tamar’s delivery. Thank you that you’re protecting Clyde right now. Thank you that Stephen and Tamar’s father are looking for us. Thank you that we’re going to be saved. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your grace. Forgive me for my fear. Forgive me for every complaint I’ve made. I’m grateful to you. You are a good, good Father and you have provided on every step of this journey today. You will continue to provide, because you are Jehovah Jireh. God our provider and Jehovah Roi. The God who sees us. You know what we need. I thank you and I bless your name.” I continued to speak words of worship and praise. I went back to the restroom and wiped all the tears from my face. I stepped out and heard Baby Pierce scream.
The Winter Baby Page 6