Her Valentine Family

by Renee Andrews

  “Yes, he is.” She waved and left the classroom feeling better that Hannah hadn’t heard any suspicions about Nathan’s paternity from anyone else in town. Maybe she’d be able to tell Chad before he learned it from someone else.

  She made her way to the lobby, where the only people remaining were her parents, Nathan and Brother Henry, apparently waiting on all of them to leave so he could lock up.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I was visiting with Hannah Taylor.”

  “No problem at all,” Brother Henry said. “She’s a sweet girl, isn’t she, and bless her heart, she’s been through quite a lot.”

  “Yes, she has,” Jess said, while her parents nodded in agreement.

  “I’m feeling better tonight, though,” Hannah said, rounding the corner with her teacher’s tote on her arm. She was so small now that the bag seemed to swallow her side. “Because I had a terrific group of kids in my class.”

  “She had me!” Nathan said. “Bye, Ms. Hannah.”

  “Bye, Nathan,” Hannah said with a smile. She added a goodbye to Brother Henry, Jessica’s parents and finally Jess, then left the church.

  “We learned about Abraham and Sarah having an old baby,” Nathan said.

  “An old baby?” Brother Henry asked, grinning.

  Nathan laughed and corrected, “Having a baby when they were old, I meant.” He held out his palm and cocked his head at the preacher. “I remembered what I learned.”

  Brother Henry laughed. “I thought our deal was for you to remember my lessons.”

  “I didn’t get to hear you preaching tonight,” Nathan explained, and to his joy, Brother Henry dropped a peppermint in his hand.

  “You’re right. You didn’t, and I’m glad you remembered what you learned in class. You’re a smart boy, Nathan Bowman.”

  “That’s what Mama says,” Nathan said, working his words around the candy he’d already popped in his mouth.

  Still laughing at Nathan’s comments, Jessica and her parents steered him out of the church and to the car, where he talked about Abraham and Sarah the whole way home. By the time they reached the house, they had heard his entire interpretation of Abraham “getting a promise, and Sarah not believing it, and Sarah laughing, and then how they named him Isaac ’cause God said to ’cause she laughed and Isaac means laugh.”

  Nathan had enjoyed the story so much that he continued to talk about it throughout his bath and was still going strong when Jessica tucked him into bed.

  “She laughed,” Nathan said again, snuggling under the covers. “She didn’t think God meant it, did she? That she would have a little boy when she was very old.”

  “Not at first,” Jessica said. “But then later she did, especially when she had that little boy and she was so happy to have him, just like I’m happy to have you.” She kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly, enjoying the bonding time they shared each night before he went to sleep.

  Then she saw his rolled-up take-home papers on his nightstand and remembered what Hannah had said. “Hey, you didn’t show me what you did in class. Want to show me before you go to sleep?”

  “Sure,” Nathan said, wriggling away from her to reach for the papers.

  “This is Abraham and Sarah and Isaac,” he said, pointing to the coloring page. “I kind of got out of the lines on her hair, but Ms. Hannah said I still did pretty good.”

  “She’s right. You did a good job,” Jess agreed. She continued admiring the picture and wondered why Hannah thought this paper showed that Nathan wants to meet his daddy. Maybe he’d said something about Abraham and the way he was looking at the baby in Sarah’s arms. “So, you like this picture of Abraham’s family?” Jess prompted, hoping to figure out what Hannah had meant.

  “Yep, but my family is on the other side. We drew ours on the back.” He turned the page, and Jessica now knew that this was what Hannah wanted her to see.

  Nathan drew his typical tall, skinny house in red crayon and put an even taller tree on the right side, the green swirled circles at the top forming its leaves. On the ground, to the left of the house were two stick people. The taller one had brown hair that was longer, and Jess recognized the “mommy” drawing that Nathan often put in his pictures. She also recognized the little boy beside the mommy as his traditional “Nathan” drawing. Both of the stick people were merely round circle heads with two lines forming the legs, which was the extent of Nathan’s current drawing skills.

  Jessica adored the way he always drew the mommy and little boy so close together when he depicted his family. But the mommy and son weren’t the only things on the page this time. On the opposite side of the house, just beneath the tree, was another stick figure, a little taller than the mommy, who appeared to be wearing a hat. And beside that circular head and string legs was another straight line extending outward, as though the fellow had one arm.

  “Who’s that?” Jess asked, though she suspected she knew.

  “That’s my daddy. He hasn’t found us yet.”

  Jess nodded, gathering her bearings. He doesn’t even know to look for you yet. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to that extended line.

  “That’s his bat,” Nathan said, as though this should have been obvious. “Remember? He’s going to teach me to play T-ball. And he’s going to be my coach. Anson’s daddy is his T-ball coach.”

  “Who’s Anson?”

  “A boy at school.”

  “Is that what he’s wearing? His baseball cap?” She pointed to the hat on the daddy’s head.

  “Yep. Anson said he was on the Rangers last year, but he don’t know what team he’ll get this year yet. Do you think I’ll get on Rangers or something else?”

  “I don’t know,” Jess said, and made a mental note to check into the Claremont Little League sign-ups tomorrow. And she guessed she should probably ask how they go about signing up to coach.

  She almost laughed, picturing her telling Chad that he had a son and then asking him to sign up for coaching duty. It was nearly funny, if it would only be that easy.

  “Are you thinking that Daddy will find us soon?” she asked, trying to use Nathan’s own terminology to describe what was bound to happen in the next few days.

  “Yep.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered, and Nathan smiled broadly.

  “When?”

  “I’m thinking he’ll find you in the next few days,” she said. Then she thought about the other part of this equation, the one Nathan didn’t know about yet. “And Nathan, do you remember when you told me you’d like a little brother or sister?”

  “Yes!” he said, letting go of the paper in his excitement at the possibility. The sheet flittered off the bed to land on the floor.

  Jess decided to wait about picking it up. This was more important. She cupped her palms beneath Nathan’s face and looked into those excited green-gold eyes. “Well, when your daddy finds us, he may bring you a little sister with him.”

  “Really?” he asked. “Cool!” He moved his head away from her hands and peered past her to the floor. “Mama, get that for me,” he said, then thought about what was missing in that request and added, “Please.” He pointed to the paper on the floor. “And I need a color.” He paused, grinned. “Please.”

  Jessica handed him the paper and then withdrew a box of crayons from his nightstand drawer. “You want a crayon?”

  “Yeah, a red one.” The paper had already started curling back up on the ends, and he worked to flatten it back out. Jessica grabbed the David and Goliath book that was still on the nightstand from when her father read him the story and placed it in Nathan’s lap. Then she put the paper on top of the hard surface so it’d be easier for him to color…whatever he planned to color.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “You’ll see.” He continued trying to make the sides of the page lay down, but they continued curling up.

  Jessica flattened her palms on the page and pushed them to the edges so she could hold the paper in place for her son
.

  “Thanks,” Nathan said, placing the crayon next to the daddy figure on the paper. Then he shook his head, mumbled, “Nope” and moved the crayon to the other side, beside his Nathan figure. When he was done, there was a new, smaller figure added to the scene. A small, circular head and two string legs formed a child to Nathan’s left. Mommy on the right, little girl on the left. And Daddy still on the far side.

  Jessica didn’t like the feeling she got from that.

  “Why did you put her there?” she asked. “By you?”

  “Because,” Nathan said, “I’ll have to teach her stuff.”

  She smiled. “Yes, you will.”

  He picked up the crayon box and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know what color of hair she has.”

  “Yellow,” Jess said. “I believe she has yellow.”

  He nodded, grabbed a yellow crayon and put a puff of yellow hair on top of the little girl.

  “Very nice,” she said.

  “Now,” Nathan said, when he’d determined the piece was done. “It’s just like Ms. Hannah said.” He handed her the yellow crayon, and Jess slid it back into the box, then put the crayons away.

  “Like Ms. Hannah said?” she asked.

  “This side is Abraham’s family,” he explained, turning the page for her to see the preprinted paper that he’d colored in class. He turned the page again and smiled. “And this one is mine.”

  Jessica blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay. The image was nice, except for the daddy being on the other side of the page. Maybe soon Nathan would see them all together.

  Please, God, let it be that way. Nathan wants a real family.

  And so do I.

  Chapter Seven

  The last thing Jessica had planned to do on Thursday afternoon was cancel her coffee plans with Chad, but nevertheless that’s exactly what she was about to do, thanks to a bizarre telephone call from Nathan’s teacher.

  She dialed Chad’s number as she crossed the quad toward the English building, and her English Comp class. He didn’t answer, and she really didn’t expect him to, since he was probably preparing to teach his last class for the day, but she didn’t want to break their plans via text message.

  She prayed he’d understand.

  After his voice mail greeting ended, she waited for the tone and then spoke as clearly as she could, given how worried she was about her son—about their son. “Hey, I’m sorry. I can’t do coffee tonight. Nathan’s teacher called, and she thinks there might be something wrong with him,” she said and then swallowed. She had to tell him more than that. “Not physically,” she clarified, “socially.” She shook her head, thinking about how awkward this was to say into a cell phone. She needed to actually talk to him about what Nathan’s teacher said. She needed parental advice. “She asked me not to speak to him until she has a chance to try to figure out what’s wrong. I guess she just wanted my permission to talk to him, and I told her she had it, that I’d wait about asking him anything, but now—now I’m thinking maybe I should talk to him tonight. I’m his mama, so I should probably be the one—”

  The phone beeped and an automated voice informed her that she had exceeded the allotted time to leave a message. She was then informed that she could rerecord or delete her message. Jessica debated an attempt to try leaving the message again so she didn’t sound so much like a paranoid mother, but it was time for her class to start, and she didn’t have the willpower to try and start over. Yeah, she’d botched the message, and yes, she forgot to tell him she’d still like to go out with him tomorrow night. But she knew he would return her call, and maybe she didn’t sound as pathetic as she thought.

  She entered her class in the nick of time, rather than her usual early arrival, dropped into her customary front row seat and concentrated on staying focused throughout the class. Unfortunately, her attempt at concentration failed. The class ended, and she had no clue about what Ms. Smelding discussed. She should have just gone on home after her first class so she could’ve gotten to Nathan quicker. Jessica sighed dismally and began gathering her books.

  “Here, honey.” An elderly voice broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see Ms. Smelding standing in front of her, a batch of stapled papers extended toward Jess.

  Jessica glanced around and realized the rest of the class had already left while she was thinking about Nathan and gathering her things. “What’s that?”

  “My notes from today’s lecture. Normally you don’t miss a word I say. Today, I’d wager you didn’t catch one. Never even saw you pick up your pen. So I figure I’ll give you a freebie this week, since you’re probably the only one in here who’s actually trying to learn something.” She pushed the papers toward Jessica’s nose. “Better grab them quick. My niceness can only last so long, you know. It runs out with age.”

  Jessica took the papers. “Thank you. I’m sorry about being so distracted. My son’s teacher called me after my first class and said she wanted my permission to talk to him tomorrow and that she suspects he may have a problem, socially.” She shrugged and was a little embarrassed when her mouth quivered.

  The older woman stepped closer, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Well, now, that explains everything. Nothing can tear at your heart more than thinking there’s something wrong with one of your kids. I’ve got four of them, all boys, you know. Stair steps, that’s what they were. Only six years’ difference from the oldest to the youngest.” She gave Jess a squeeze, then removed her arm and laughed. “They were a handful, let me tell you, but they turned out all right. Each of them had their quirks.” She shrugged. “I suppose everyone does. Some things are real problems. Other things, not so much. Until you know something for sure, though, there’s no sense worrying too much about it, in my opinion. My youngest, Tyler, was nearly two years old before he uttered a word. I took him to one doctor after another thinking something was wrong with the boy.”

  Jessica listened with interest. “And was there?”

  Her teacher shook her head and laughed again. “Turned out that he never had to talk because all of his older brothers were always more than anxious to tell everybody what he wanted to say. As soon as they got out of the house and in school, Tyler chatted up a storm. In fact, I’ve often joked that it took us two years to teach him to talk and the rest of his life to teach him when to shut up.”

  Jessica grinned, feeling a little better. “Thanks for sharing that.”

  “He’s an attorney now and sure enough talks his share, let me tell you. But I do remember how worried I was back then when I thought something was wrong with my baby. It’s hard to think that your child is anything less than perfect. But in Tyler’s case, he’s fine. And now I’ve got a baker’s dozen of grandchildren to boot, each of them with their share of problems, their share of differences.” She moved to her desk and gathered her teaching materials. “I won’t lie to you and tell you some concerns for my kids weren’t warranted. But you’ll make it through. You pray for him, don’t you? Your little boy?”

  “All the time.”

  “Best thing you can do. And just so you know, I’ve had my share of parent-teacher meetings, too, and have been on both sides of the table—the parent worried about my child and the teacher worried about a student. If his teacher wants to talk to him and asked your permission before doing so, it sounds like she has both of your best interests at heart.”

  “It seems so,” Jessica agreed.

  Strong, sturdy footsteps echoed as someone moved through the hall. They grew louder and faster until the owner of those long, steady strides stepped inside the classroom.

  Chad Martin’s presence seemed to overpower the room, and Jessica saw him in an entirely new light. Not as the best looking instructor on campus. Not as the boy she’d grown to love in high school. Or as the man she still cared about more than any other.

  She saw Nathan’s daddy.

  “I just got your message. What’s happening with Nathan? What did hi
s teacher say, exactly? I understand that you want to go home and see him soon, but I thought you might want to talk about it first.”

  Ms. Smelding tucked her teaching materials against her chest. “Hello, Mr. Martin,” she said. Then to Jessica she said, “You two are welcome to talk in my classroom, if you like. I’m headed home, and there aren’t any other classes in here tonight.” She turned back to Chad. “Lock the door when you leave?”

  “Yes, thank you, Ms. Smelding.”

  “You’re welcome, son.” She moved past Chad toward the door. “I’ll say a prayer for your boy.”

  Jessica’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, it appeared Ms. Smelding was talking to Chad, but then she realized that her words were addressed to Jess.

  “Thank you,” she said and watched the older woman leave.

  Chad wasted no time crossing the room, taking her books from her tight grasp and putting them back on her desk. “Come here, let me help.” He pulled her against him, his strong arms wrapping around her and folding her into his warmth. “It’ll be okay,” he soothed.

  The compassion in his voice, the sincerity of his embrace and concern for what she was going through pushed Jessica over the edge, and she finally released her tears.

  “It’s okay,” he repeated softly, brushing his hand down her hair and holding her close. “I’ll help you. Let me help you, Jess. I know you’re worried about him, but you’re not on your own here.”

  He didn’t say another thing, allowing her to let go of the emotions that she’d held in check throughout the afternoon, ever since she received that call. She pressed her face against his shirt and felt the sturdy, solid beat of his heart against her cheek. Her tears trickled freely, and she let them fall. The weight of her worry lessened as each drop released, as though transferring through her tears from herself to the strong, compelling man that held her close.

  Eventually, her tears subsided, and she sniffed, then eased away from his chest to look into those green-gold eyes. Chad’s eyes. Nathan’s eyes.