She looked so vulnerable, so tiny, by herself. Beth wanted to run and catch up with her, grab her hand, warn her about the riptides and the undertow and the sharks.
But as the water retreated into the sea, Beth noticed it. Another set of footprints walking alongside Robin, pressing into the sand, in unison with her short stride.
Beth smiled through her tears. Just like that famous poem said, she knew there would come a day when only one set of footprints would be in the sand. Robin would need to be carried through something. No one knew what, but she would need it. Just as Beth had been carried when she lost her baby. When she lost Jenny. Just as she was being carried now.
Before her, little Robin disappeared into the washed, hazy light of the day’s end.
CHAPTER 40
LARRY
LARRY GAZED INTO the long mirror on the back of their bathroom door. Behind him, Beth smoothed her hand over his shoulders as he adjusted the jacket. He filled out this suit more than the last time he’d worn it. The buttons tugged against the holes that barely held them.
“I’m thankful I don’t have to wear a tux, if I’m being honest,” he said.
Beth shrugged. “I think you look handsome in a tux.” She walked around him and straightened the tie he’d been fiddling with. “I can see you so clearly the day of our wedding.”
“I bet I look just about the same, don’t I?” he asked her with a wink. “Minus the thirty extra pounds and the gray.”
“You look great, honey.” She smiled at him, but in her eyes he could still sense sadness. He felt it too but didn’t let himself go there. He couldn’t. Today was a celebration, and dads were expected to celebrate. “I can’t believe this day is already here.”
“You look amazing,” he said, twirling her around. “Prettier than the day we got married!”
“Please,” she sighed. “I don’t even know what the mother of the groom is wearing. Maybe we should’ve invited them over for dinner. Why didn’t I do that? I mean, I figured we’d meet them at the rehearsal dinner, but then there wasn’t one. . . .” Beth looked at her feet. “I picked blue, you know, just because it’s kind of neutral. But what if she’s wearing blue?”
“I don’t think anyone will care. Robin and Marvin don’t seem to care either, so why should we?”
Beth sat on the end of the bed, shaking her head. “This morning I asked Robin what time she wanted me at the church and she looked shocked, like she hadn’t thought about it. I’m not sure she even wants me there. Maybe I should just sit in the pew like everyone else.”
“Beth, of course she wants you there. How could you think otherwise?”
“I know it seems . . .” Beth stared at the ground, her hands limply open in her lap. “I know it seems like I haven’t come to terms with this. But I have. I really have.” Larry sat next to her on the bed. “I’ve accepted it. Last night I couldn’t sleep. I went downstairs and got down on my knees in the middle of the living room floor, and I . . . I cried.”
“Oh, sweetie.” He pulled her into a hug.
“And I think all the tears were for . . . were . . . I realized all these years I’ve prayed and I’ve prayed and I’ve prayed, but I never really trusted. I never trusted God because sometimes—most of the time—it felt like I didn’t have to. I had full control. They were under our roof. They were dependent on our money. The things that were hard in their lives, I could make easier by doing something special for them. I think at the end of the day I trusted in . . . me. And God’s called me on it, you know? I’m spinning out of control because I trust in me: to be a good mom, to keep them safe and fed, to raise them as productive human beings. But you know what? It wasn’t me. It wasn’t ever me. They’re the people they are because of God’s grace in our lives. God’s mercy in my life, to be the parent I was to them. If I did anything good at all, it was because of Him.”
She took Larry’s hand, held it tightly. “You’re such a rock to our family, Larry. I’m sorry I’ve been such a basket case. I’m okay now. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Robin and Marvin, whether it’s the worst idea for a marriage ever or what, but I’m letting go. I’m putting our baby girl right into God’s hands.” Beth made a motion like she was putting a little bird back in its nest. She smiled at him through tears. “You seem to be doing pretty good today.”
Larry shrugged. “Nobody likes to see a big guy blubber at a wedding.”
“Are we old enough to have a daughter getting married? I still feel twenty. Except when I get out of bed.”
“Me too, except when I get off the couch. Luckily I don’t do that much, so I usually feel pretty good.”
Beth laughed and checked her watch. “Well, I still don’t know what I should do.”
“You should go. Be with her, Beth. I promise that’s what she wants.”
Beth nodded. “All right. I’ll just try to push aside all my thoughts about what I imagined this day would be. I’ll be honest—in my head it looked a lot like a Hallmark commercial. There was soft, glowy light, and everything was in slow motion.”
Larry chuckled. “Come on, let’s pray.” Just as they grabbed hands, they heard the doorbell ring.
“You expecting anyone?” Larry asked.
“No.”
They went downstairs, and Larry opened the door. Standing on the porch, with his hands in his pockets and his jeans dragging on the ground, was Marvin.
“Hi, um . . . hey. Larry and Beth. Can I . . . ?” He pointed beyond them. “In?”
Larry glanced at Beth, then back at Marvin, who didn’t look so good. “Marvin, is everything okay?”
“Well, yes . . . I just need to . . .”
Larry and Beth stepped aside, mostly because the kid couldn’t seem to finish a sentence and didn’t look steady on his feet. He seemed pretty short on breath and courage, too. They trailed behind him to the dining room, where he sat down at the empty table. The house was so quiet. Robin was already at the church, getting ready with her bridesmaids. Nathan and Chip had gone to get haircuts before the wedding. Beth hadn’t fixed a breakfast because nobody was going to be around.
“Marvin, what’s wrong?” Larry asked.
He looked up from the table. “Nothing is wrong. I just feel like I need to tell you something. Confess . . . Confess isn’t the right word.”
Larry swallowed down the rising fear that was burning his esophagus.
“It’s more like . . .”
Beth slipped out of her seat next to Larry and into the seat next to Marvin. She put her hand on his shoulder and said, “It’s okay, Marvin. You can tell us anything. We’re here for you.”
That seemed to ease Marvin up a bit, but Larry still couldn’t imagine what this was all about. What in the world could he be so upset about? On his wedding day? Larry remembered his own wedding day. He wasn’t nervous about marrying Beth. He couldn’t wait. It was just the ceremony of it all that made him cringe. But as far as he could tell, there was hardly any ceremony planned for this wedding.
“I don’t really know where to start,” Marvin said to Beth.
“Just from the beginning,” she said.
“Okay. Well, I was born in Wichita, Kansas, to—”
“Maybe not that early.” Larry smiled.
“Well, it has to do with that.”
“Oh. Go ahead, sorry.”
“I was born to Marvin and Janelle Rawlings. I was named after my biological dad.”
Larry glanced at Beth. Biological?
“On my first birthday, they decided they didn’t want me anymore. I spent twelve years in orphanages, boys’ homes, and foster homes. I just wasn’t the kid that—I never caught anyone’s eye, I guess you could say. I wasn’t cute or funny or, you know, the kind of kid you’d want to bring home.”
Larry couldn’t help it. He was stunned. He tried not to show it.
“Anyway, when I was thirteen, a couple came to the boys’ home that I was living in at the time and said, ‘We want to adopt the oldest kid here.�
�� And that was me. So I went home with Mr. and Mrs. Hood. And, man, did I give them trouble at first. But they got me through all that, and then they became Mom and Pops Hood. The adoption officially went through when I was seventeen. And that’s when I changed my name to Marvin Hood. I’m named after a man I’ll never know, but I took the name of the man who taught me how to be one.”
Larry noticed tears running down Beth’s face. She didn’t even swipe at them as she usually did. She was locked onto everything Marvin was saying.
Marvin picked at a fingernail, seemingly trying to compose himself, find the right words. “I know . . . I know I’m not every parent’s dream for their daughter. I get that. And I’m sorry this wedding has been so . . . weird. It’s my fault. Robin was trying to protect me. Sometimes I get embarrassed by who I am, who I was. I was abandoned, you know. And there’s not really a lifetime long enough to get over the fact that you weren’t liked well enough by your own parents for them to keep you. But Robin, when I met her, she didn’t judge me. And she loved me, the way Mom and Pops loved me. She didn’t care that I don’t have much money and all that. She knew I love God like she loves God, and all the other stuff didn’t seem to matter to her. But it mattered to me. I wanted to make a good impression.” He looked up, first at Beth, then at Larry. “I wanted you to be happy for Robin. But I realized by trying to hide who I am, I was just . . . being disingenuous.”
Larry looked down. Wow, he’d judged this kid hard. They both had.
“I know it must seem like a nightmare for your daughter to marry a pizza delivery boy. But Mom and Pops Hood, they own a little pizza place over on the east side, and my hope is that I can take over the business for them when they’re ready to retire. They have four other grown kids of their own, and they’ve all got their careers. I’m the only one who has any interest in it.” He laughed a little. “Because I like pizza so much, I guess. And because I’m proud to be a Hood.”
Larry reached out his hand and shook Marvin’s. “Marvin, I’m glad you told us. I wish we’d been . . . maybe been the kind of people who would’ve been easier to talk to. I’m sorry we weren’t.”
Beth put her head on Marvin’s shoulder. “We love you, Marvin.”
Marvin grinned. “And I want you both to know, I fully intend to take care of Robin in every way. Mom and Pop brought me up right. I know what is expected of me.” He checked his watch. “I better get to the church.” They all stood. “I’m really excited for you to meet Mom and Pops. Dan and Judy, I guess.”
“So are we,” Beth said, rubbing his shoulder.
Marvin turned straight to Beth, putting a hand on each of her shoulders. “Beth, I want you to know the kind of daughter you have. She knew that Mom and Pop don’t have a lot of money, and she didn’t want to burden them with traditional roles that come with traditional weddings, like the groom’s family paying for the rehearsal dinner and all that. She decided we could do a lot of the wedding for pretty cheap. All she wanted was her perfect wedding dress. Everything else, she said, we could do on our own. But she knew I was . . .” His toe traced a line on the floor. “I was embarrassed, so that’s why she’s been acting so weird. She was just trying to protect me. But I realized it was hurting you, so I decided that I should come tell you the whole truth.”
Beth, Larry knew, was going to have to redo her makeup. And Larry couldn’t lie—this was more than a grown man could handle. He gave Marvin another firm handshake. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thanks,” Marvin said. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Marvin walked to his car. Larry and Beth stood on their porch and waved good-bye to him.
Larry whispered, “You’ve just had your Hallmark moment.”
Beth turned to him, tears shining in her eyes. “You know what I just realized?”
“What?”
“Marvin is the answer to all my prayers for Robin, since the day she was born.”
CHAPTER 41
BETH
BETH STOOD QUIETLY in the corner of the Sunday school classroom, now transformed for the bridesmaids and the bride with a mirror, makeup table, and rack for clothes. The bridesmaids, two high school friends, rushed here and there, doing this and that. Framed by the mirror, Robin checked her dress and her hair and her dress again. The gown was gorgeous, a trumpet style with organza flowing down the back like a foamy waterfall. Beth would’ve never guessed a design like that would fit Robin well, but it was absolutely perfect.
Yet the truth was, even though she was present in the room, she still didn’t know where she stood . . . therefore she didn’t know where to stand. She didn’t want to bother Robin now with what Marvin had told them, with a bunch of gushing apologies and all that.
Instead she found a memory of Robin trying on an evening gown from Beth’s closet. She couldn’t have been more than six. It hung off her like a sack, but there had been no doubt she felt beautiful in it. She twirled and danced, tripping over the fabric. Beth had a busy day, as she remembered it, but at Robin’s request, she stopped everything she was doing and put some makeup on Robin and fixed her hair like a princess’s.
Now here she was, all grown-up, a real princess, looking remarkably like Jenny did at that age. Across the room, Robin fiddled with her hair. Beth noticed she was smiling at all the right times, but something seemed to be bothering her. Should she go ask? She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know a lot, truthfully. But she knew this—it was out of her hands now, fully and completely.
So she tried, just like Dr. Reynolds suggested, to live in this moment, taking in all the joy and fun of the day, even though she was essentially relegated to the sidelines, admittedly for good reason. All she could do was let go of Robin’s hand and hope she didn’t get washed away by the sea of life. No, not hope. Trust.
She took a deep breath, smiled, and watched. There would be time later to say she was sorry. Today was Robin’s day, and she needed to let her have it. All of it.
Robin’s friend Amy leaned over her from behind, looking into the mirror with her, and Beth tried not to feel the sting in her heart. In the Hallmark commercials, it was always the mom.
Robin pushed her bangs one way, then the other. “It’s not working,” she said. “I’m sorry, Amy. Where’s my mom?”
At the word mom, Beth stood up straighter. She did a little wave from the corner.
“Mom, can you do my hair?”
Beth tried not to cross the room in a single bound. “Sure,” she said as nonchalantly as possible, casting her purse to the side. She couldn’t seem overeager. That’s what had scared Robin away in the first place. That and a few other things.
Beth stepped behind her, and there they were in that mirror, both gazing at the prettiest girl Beth knew.
“Do it like you always used to,” Robin said, talking with her hands. “How you’d twist it up and then the little pieces fell to the sides.”
“Yep, I remember.” She took her daughter’s hair between her hands—it was thicker now that she was older. She hadn’t put Robin’s hair up for years. Beth twisted it and reached for some bobby pins, pushing them in this way or that, trying not to linger on Robin’s expression, which was both tense and hopeful.
She got it just right . . . at least what she hoped was just right. She let go, and the curls fell delicately against Robin’s cheek. Robin smiled warmly at Beth, at which point Beth probably would’ve burst into tears except there was a knock at the door.
“It’s Marvin,” came the muffled voice.
“Hang on,” Robin said and slid off the stool on which she sat.
“What? He can’t see you before the wedding.” It was out of Beth’s mouth before she even understood that this was yet another disapproving statement her daughter had to hear from her. She slapped her hand over her mouth. It was tradition, of course, the groom not seeing the bride. The most deeply rooted of traditions, dating back probably hundreds—or was it thousands?—of years, but who was she to argue with bucking tradition?
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She’d turned to give Robin an apologetic expression when Robin said, “I’ve already got this worked out. Okay, girls, form the wall.”
The bridesmaids, both of whom were almost six feet tall, stood shoulder to shoulder, creating a human wall. Robin stepped close to them. “Come in!”
Chewing on a fingernail to keep from speaking, Beth watched as the door opened. She could barely see the top of Marvin’s head. She actually thought she got a whiff of cologne, not pepperoni.
“What is this? What are you doing?” Beth asked, wide-eyed with wonder.
“We’re praying together. We do it every day. Can’t very well miss this one. It’s kind of important.” Robin gave her a knowing smile.
Marvin poked his hand between the two bridesmaids and Robin took it. They bowed their heads. So did the bridesmaids. The only one who wasn’t praying was Beth, who couldn’t stop gawking. They had, she realized, an easy, comfortable, warm relationship.
“Dear God, thank You for such a wonderful day to have our wedding. Thank You for such a wonderful, godly man to start this new life with,” Robin prayed.
Then Marvin said, “Help us to start this marriage off right. Give us a good wedding. And thanks for Robin. I really love her, and I can’t believe You gave her to me. Amen.”
Their hands slipped away from one another.
“See you up front,” Robin said.
“See you up front.”
Robin glanced at Beth as Marvin left the room. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
“How did you . . . ?” She gestured to where they’d just prayed. “Where did you learn that?”
Robin looked confused. “From you, of course. I can’t go a day without praying because you always prayed for us. And now I do it with Marvin, like you and Dad do.” She faced the mirror. “My hair looks perfect. Thank you!”
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