She exchanged a panicked glance with her brother before shaking her head no.
“No?” Will couldn’t believe it. “Come now. Are you two making a snack or something different?” He pointedly looked at their clothes and the shoes on their feet.
“Something different,” Roy said at last.
This was one of those moments when Will felt every negative part of being a foster parent. He didn’t have a lot of experience parenting, so he had no idea what to do or say.
He sure wished he did, though. It would be nice to know if he was supposed to be listening patiently or just pointing to the stairs and sending them back to bed.
Then he considered these children’s history. He and E.A. were fairly certain that Roy and Jemima had had a nice life with their natural parents, but the children would hardly talk about them. Will did know that they hadn’t had it easy since their parents’ deaths.
Melanie the social worker had told him and E.A. that the last foster family had been particularly rough. That there might be triggers or something else that could hurt the kids that he wasn’t aware of.
Finally, he wasn’t used to parenting on his own. He’d found comfort in the fact that no matter how awkward he might find being a father, his wife was right next to him and she could help make things better.
But E.A. was exhausted and he knew she needed her sleep.
He was on his own.
“If you two are hungry, finish making your snacks and then come to the kitchen table. We’re gonna have a talk.”
Jemima hesitated. “But it’s almost midnight.”
“It is. It is almost Christmas morning. But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about something so important.”
“How do you know it’s important?”
“Why else would you two be up and dressed in the middle of the night?”
He watched them exchange glances again. Remembering something his father used to do, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood silently. When he was but a boy, that kind of thing used to make him feel extremely uneasy.
And . . . it worked like a charm. With deliberate moves, both children finished making their sandwiches, then put them on plates and approached the table.
He walked to the refrigerator, poured three glasses of milk, and joined them.
After he sat down and took a fortifying sip, he said, “Who wants to tell me what is going on?”
“Not me,” Roy mumbled as he took a big bite of his sandwich.
“And why is that?”
Suddenly looking stricken, Roy froze. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t . . . truly?”
“It’s my fault,” Jemima blurted. “I told him about your secret.”
“What secret is that?”
“The secret about how you and Mrs. Kurtz are going to be having twins.”
“How did you hear that?”
“I was standing outside the living room and heard you two talking.”
“Were you eavesdropping on purpose?”
“No. I was going to ask you something. I mean, was gonna ask Mrs. Kurtz. But then you two sounded so serious, I didn’t think I should interrupt.”
“And then?”
Sounding defeated, she answered, “And then I heard what you said.”
“Help me understand what I said that made you so upset. What did I say that was so bad that it made you both want to leave?” When they both remained silent, Will took a stab in the dark. “Is it the twins? Is that it? Do you two really not like babies?”
Roy’s eyes got as big as saucers. “Nee!”
“What is it then? I’m not a mind reader.”
“I heard how you were going to change things. How you and Mrs. Kurtz were going to move us the day after Christmas.”
“Maybe not that soon, but yes.”
“But I don’t want to do that!” Roy blurted as he started crying.
Will could hear E.A. walking down the stairs. No doubt their children’s commotion had woken her up. He knew he should probably be upset with himself, but he was secretly glad.
“I know you like your room, Roy, but your next one will be all right.”
“I like my night-light.”
“I do, too,” Will said patiently. “Roy, I’m not going to take it away from you. You can put it in your next room right beside your bed.”
“But what if they won’t let me have it?”
Will stared at Roy. “They?”
“Who are you speaking of?” E.A. asked as she joined them.
“The new people,” Jemima said.
E.A. sent a puzzled look Will’s way. “Honey, what new people?”
“The people you’re gonna make us go to.”
“You’re going to make us leave and we won’t have our things and the next people might be mean,” Roy said—seconds before he burst into loud, messy tears.
Opening her arms, E.A. pulled him onto her lap. The six-year-old threw his arms around her, buried his face in her neck, and then cried even harder.
It broke Will’s heart.
“I came late to this conversation, but I have to admit to being really confused,” E.A. said. “Where are you two going?”
“To the next people. I heard you say you were going to send us away.”
Will shook his head. “We aren’t taking you anywhere.”
“I heard you!” Jemima cried. “You said that we would adjust to our new place!”
“Did you hear the rest of the conversation?” E.A. asked. When Jemima shook her head, she added, “If you had, you would have heard the part about how the babies are going to need their own room. You would have heard how worried I was about making the two of you share a room again until we can afford to add another bedroom in the house.”
“That’s what you were talking about?”
“To be sure, Jemima,” Will said. “I know you don’t know us well yet, but I hope you will start learning to trust us. If we only wanted you to live with us until Christmas Day, we would have made that plain from the beginning.”
“You want us forever?” Roy asked.
E.A. opened her arms. “Oh, jah, Roy. We want you and Jemima for a long time. Forever and forever.”
Chapter 15
Thirty minutes later, with her arms firmly around little Roy, E.A. looked over at Jemima. Sitting across from them in her dress and cloak, she looked as serious as ever.
And, E.A. thought, twice as sad.
“What’s wrong, Jemima?” E.A. asked softly.
“I feel embarrassed because I misunderstood everything. I’m sorry that I made everyone get up out of bed in the middle of the night.”
“Hey now. Don’t start making things worse than they are. I was awake already, remember?” Will asked.
“I remember.”
“That takes care of that. Now, let’s talk about something else.”
“What?”
“Do you think it’s possible for you to begin to trust us?”
“Jah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I want to trust you both.” Her voice drifted off.
“But you’ve learned to protect yourself, haven’t you?” E.A. said gently.
“Jah. Not everything I want to happen does.”
“Nothing happens like that for anyone,” Will said. “Trust and faith are a lot alike. Both mean believing in something without knowing for sure about the facts. And you can set yourself up for disappointment.”
“But think about Mary when the angels and the Lord told her that her baby was special. Or when the Wise Men were encouraged to ride a great distance to see the future King. Or all the times since when miracles have happened and blessings have occurred to people who might not even have deserved them.”
“You’re talking about Christmas Day,” Roy said.
“I am. Faith is hard. Learning to trust after one has been betrayed before is hard, too. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”
Will studied
them for a long moment before standing up. “I’ll be right back,” he said before disappearing down the hall.
Jemima looked at E.A. “Is he upset?”
“Nee. Will doesn’t get upset about much. And especially not about things like this.” Already having a pretty good idea about what her husband was doing, E.A. folded her hands neatly on the table. “I guess we’ll just have to sit tight until he returns.”
When Will came back, he was holding a manila folder filled with papers. “I guess I should have been listening to my own advice about having faith and trust,” he said in a quiet tone. “E.A. and I have been filling out this paperwork and have been in close contact with Melanie and the lawyers, but it all takes time.”
“Will, tell them what you’re holding,” E.A. prompted.
“Oh. Of course.” He set the papers on the table. “This is the adoption paperwork we’ve been working on.” Opening up the packet, he flipped through the papers until he came to E.A.’s favorite piece. “Look at this, you two. What do you see?”
Jemima and Roy got on their feet and studied the official-looking document. After one or two seconds, Jemima’s eyes widened. “There’s our names.”
E.A. smiled. “That’s right,” she agreed, running a finger along their printed names. “Here are Jemima Mary Clark and Roland Irwin Clark.”
Roy giggled. “No one calls me Roland Irwin.”
“I think it’s a mighty fine name, but perhaps it’s a mighty grown-up name.”
“I’m just a boy now.”
“You are just a boy, but you’re also a mighty special boy. Just like Jemima Mary here is a mighty special girl.”
Jemima straightened her shoulders. “I’m named after Mary in the Bible.”
“You are?” Will teased.
Jemima nodded her head fervently.
“I think that means we’re supposed to open Christmas presents then.”
“Right now? But it’s the middle of the night.”
“It surely is, but since it’s now one in the morning, it actually is Christmas. And those presents do look awfully tempting. Don’t you think we should see what’s inside?”
Roy kept staring at him until he looked to where Will was gesturing. Then his expression was so comical, E.A. couldn’t help but giggle. “I fear you have rendered our Roy speechless, Will.”
“That feels like a Christmas gift in itself. Two minutes of quiet.” He winked so the children would have no doubt that he was teasing, then held out a hand. “Well, let’s go open presents.”
But instead of taking his hand, Jemima bit her bottom lip. “We don’t have anything for you.”
E.A. knelt down so she could look the little girl in the eye. “That’s where you’re wrong. You have already given us our presents. You came into our lives, and you want to be with us forever and ever. That’s more of a gift than I ever could have expected.”
“Really? Do you think that’s enough?”
She pressed her palm to her heart. “Here, I feel that it is enough. But if you don’t believe me, then trust in His word, for it says in Psalm 127, ‘Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.’ ” E.A. paused until Jemima met her gaze. “Do you understand what that means, sweetheart? He doesn’t say ‘only the children you gave birth to are special.’ He says that all children are a gift.”
“He says I’m special no matter what.”
“Yes, He does. You’re special, no matter what, and so is Roy.” Reaching for her hand, E.A. continued. “Jemima, I know you miss your parents. I know your heart aches for them and it isn’t fair that they had to leave you when you are so small. They sound like wonderful people. I know they loved you and didn’t want to leave you. But I can’t help but think that God knew that Will and I would take care of you both, too. And that we would love you for the rest of our lives.”
“Do you think it would be okay with them if Roy and I love you, too, one day?”
“Jah,” she whispered, swallowing the lump that had just formed in her throat. “I think it would be just fine with them.”
Jemima’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
E.A. nodded. “I’m as sure about that as I’m sure that the sun is going to come up tomorrow . . . if we ever get back in our beds and go to sleep.”
Jemima yawned. “Maybe we could open presents in the morning after all? I am kind of tired.”
After reassuring Roy that they would open gifts in the morning, E.A. walked Jemima to her bed and tucked her in. “Merry Christmas, Jemima. Good night.”
“Night, E.A.,” she whispered, calling her by name for the very first time.
E.A. barely made it to the privacy of her bedroom before she let the tears fall. She’d just received a gift more precious than gold.
Chapter 16
Christmas Day, one year later
The house was in complete chaos, and the fact that it was Christmas Day had nothing to do with it.
Sitting on her bed with her brand-new book in her lap, Jemima Kurtz wished for nothing more than one whole hour of peace and quiet. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if this wish was going to come true anytime soon.
First, Roy had come into her room and hadn’t wanted to leave. Now baby Christopher was crying in his crib down the hall. Yet again.
“I wonder what’s going on now?” Roy asked.
“We’d better go check,” Jemima said, leading the way to the twins’ room.
“Mamm, Chris is crying again!” Roy yelled as they went.
“I can hear him!” their mother yelled back. “Go pick him up, Roy.”
Roy did just that, but he wrinkled his nose. “Mamm, I think his diaper is dirty!” he said as Chris wriggled and cried even louder.
“We both know what the answer to that is, Roy!” Daed called from down the hall. “Do it now, if you please.”
Roy groaned. “Do you want to change him?” he asked Jemima hopefully.
“I do not.”
“Come on. Please?”
“Nee. You change the babies’ diapers less than anyone else in the house.”
“Fine.” He turned and walked to the changing table as if he was walking the plank. “Come on, Chris. Let’s get it over with. But, Jem, stay here, wouldja?”
She knew better than to do that. If she was in “helping” distance, Roy would have her taking care of Chris in less than two seconds flat.
Instead, she darted out of the twins’ room and headed downstairs. Even from the dining room, she could still hear Roy complain upstairs about Chris’s stinky diaper. Thinking that her bruder was acting a bit like a baby himself, she started setting the table with all the plates and silverware that E.A. had put out.
In the kitchen, Elizabeth Anne was basting the turkey. “You sure got down here fast, Jem,” she teased.
“I just realized that I promised you I’d set the table.”
“Hmm.”
Realizing she was caught in her fib, Jemima put down the last fork and joined her by the stove. Little Merry was resting in a bouncy seat on the kitchen table, no doubt watching every move E.A. made with wide eyes.
Honestly, Jemima couldn’t believe how different two twins could be. While Chris was curious, loud, and demanding, Merry was quiet, attentive, and usually content. She always seemed happiest when one of them placed her in a spot where she could easily observe everything around her.
The twins were even different at night. Then they switched places. The moment either Mamm or Daed set Chris in his crib, he went to sleep—as if he was exhausted from his busy day.
Merry, on the other hand, became not very merry at all once she was in her crib. She fussed and whined whenever she was put down for the night. She liked to be in the midst of things and always acted as if they were hurting her feelings when it was bedtime.
Mamm looked up from the saucepan she was stirring on the stove. “Roy couldn’t talk his way out of that diaper change, hmm?”
“Not this time. I told him that he didn’t chan
ge enough diapers around here and then hurried downstairs before he could pester me even more.”
“Jemima, you are sounding a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” When E.A. raised her eyebrows, she sighed. “Okay, probably. But, honestly, I wasn’t as harsh as I could’ve been. Roy would pass on the babies every time one of them cried if I let him.”
E.A. laughed. “I suppose you might have a point, though there have been times when I wouldn’t mind passing on a baby for a few minutes myself. Taking care of two seven-month-olds can be exhausting, ain’t so? Sometimes even Will and me yearn for a tiny break.”
Jemima walked over to Merry and kissed her forehead. “Our twins are draining, but they are worth it. They’re adorable.”
Merry responded by kicking out her feet and smiling.
After playing with her tiny sock-covered feet for a minute, Jemima sat down at the table.
Then she noticed that E.A. was smiling at her. “Uh-oh. What did I do that was funny?”
“Not a thing. I was thinking how you are pretty wonderful, too. Both you and Roy are.” E.A. washed her hands and then moved next to Jemima. “When I think of all the changes you kinner have gone through, it boggles my mind. I’m proud of you.”
Jemima knew what her adoptive mother was thinking about. They all really had been through a lot in the last year.
A few weeks after Christmas, Melanie had come to the house and escorted them to a judge’s office. There he’d interviewed both Jemima and Roy separately and talked about adoption with them.
Roy never would tell E.A. what he told the judge, but Jemima had started crying when she told the man in the black robe about Dan and Shirl. He’d been so kind and patient, she had started talking a lot. A whole lot.
Before she realized it, she’d told him about how different things were with Mr. and Mrs. Kurtz. She’d even shared how she sometimes woke up in the middle of the night afraid that she would be back with one of her former foster families.
The judge had listened intently, asked a couple of simple questions, and then walked her to his chambers door with a kind smile and pat on the head. Jemima hadn’t been sure what to think of that, but she took it to be a good sign.
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