Her nana was a prayer warrior. While Laurel wanted to believe God answered prayers, she’d given up all hope. She couldn’t help being discouraged. Every road she’d taken to bring a child into their family had turned into a dead end. She couldn’t do it any longer. Couldn’t hold on to a dream that ended in pain each time. She’d given up and closed the door on the possibility. Laurel had tried to stay positive, but it seemed a baby wasn’t ever going to happen for her.
“I guess I should be saying prayers for myself,” Nana teased, and gripped hold of her granddaughter’s hand. “God has a baby for you. I feel it in my heart, Laurel. Don’t give up hope.”
Laurel didn’t know how to make her nana understand. She and Zach finally had realized that they weren’t meant to have children. They’d decided to move forward after coming to terms with their situation. Neither of them was willing to go through yet another failed attempt at the process of bringing a child into their home, into their family. And the sooner Nana accepted that children weren’t going to be part of their lives, the better. For her to even mention the possibility of a child pained Laurel.
“Remember Hannah?” Nana reminded her. “She desperately wanted a child, and God gave her Samuel.”
Her grandmother was well versed in the Bible and began to recount the stories of other women who had dealt with infertility.
“And Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist.”
“I do.”
“And Rachel.”
“Yes, Nana, you’ve shared these stories with me before,” Laurel gently replied. She thought to herself that the Bible didn’t recount the women who had been unable to have children.
Her grandmother continued to tenderly brush Laurel’s head. “Don’t lose faith, dear one.”
It was too late. Tears leaked from Laurel’s eyes, which she hurriedly blinked away. Disappointment had followed disappointment. The IVF treatments had been costly in more ways than one. The financial burden was only half of it. The emotional toll had been devastating. Hope had been shattered with each negative result, until Laurel had no option but to abandon her dream of ever being able to give birth.
While making payments to the fertility clinic, Laurel and Zach moved in with her grandmother. It was the only way they could make it financially. Nana needed them, and they needed her. It was a win-win for them all.
When the IVF treatments had failed, Laurel and Zach contacted a reputable adoption agency and filled out the paperwork. That had been followed by extensive interviews before they were eventually placed on a waiting list. A very long list. In fact, they were informed that it could easily take several years before they’d be able to receive a baby. Years. And as each year went by, they knew that their chances to be chosen to parent an infant would decrease.
Month after month followed with no word of a baby being available. What little hope Laurel had hung on to dwindled down to a mere speck. She wanted to believe God heard her prayers—she truly did. She wanted to think positively, but after years of trying and years of dreaming, only to have those dreams shattered again and again, she found she couldn’t. And it wasn’t only hope that had diminished; her faith had also hit rock bottom.
Both she and Zach loved children. They would be good parents, and yet they’d been unable to have children of their own. She didn’t know where the logic was in this. Why, of all people, had they been denied what they desired the most? It was unfair. Wrong. Devastating.
It was when Laurel was at this low point that Zach had suggested adoption through a fostering program. To her absolute delight, they were given a newborn, a boy, almost immediately. Jonathan had been born to a mother who was addicted to drugs, and he’d been removed from her care. Those first few hellish weeks, the undersized infant had cried incessantly, but Laurel and Zach had stuck it out. They’d loved little Jonathan with all their hearts. Zach had been wonderful with the fussy baby, endlessly comforting him, never growing impatient. He seemed to instinctively know when Laurel needed a break and when to take over. Jonathan responded to Zach’s gentle touch and calming voice. Laurel was in awe at what a patient and loving father her husband was.
But then, two weeks before the adoption was to be finalized, Jonathan’s birth father had been located. He’d known nothing of the baby and decided he wanted his son. Jonathan had been taken from Laurel and Zach, ripped from her arms. Numb with grief, she’d sunk into a deep depression that had lasted for weeks.
Reeling from the heartache of losing their foster baby, as well as the failed IVF treatments and the endless waiting list from the adoption agency, Laurel decided her heart could endure no more grief. They both agreed it was time to let go and accept that this was the way their lives were meant to be.
“I have the children in my class,” she murmured out loud to her grandmother, trying to reassure herself. As a first-grade teacher, Laurel loved every student. Teaching was her calling and her joy, and every day she looked forward to spending time with these precious little ones who were craving to learn.
“You’re a wonderful teacher,” Nana said. “You’ll be an equally fantastic mother.”
The front door opened, and her husband called out to announce he was home. Zach was Laurel’s rock, her voice of reason, the one who kept her on balance through the worst part of this vicious roller-coaster ride. A computer programmer, he worked at the downtown Seattle offices of Amazon.
He paused when he saw Laurel on the floor in front of her grandmother. Alarmed, his eyes quickly met Laurel’s.
Scrambling to her feet, Laurel stood and hugged her husband, loving the solid feel of his body against hers. “It’s been quite the day.” She hated to hit him with unwelcome news the instant he walked in the door. “Did you happen to see the police cars leaving the neighborhood on your walk home from the bus stop?”
Perplexed, Zach said that he had.
“I’m afraid I’m the culprit,” Helen announced. “I called the police because I thought Laurel had been kidnapped.”
“What?” Zach burst out.
“It’s all been taken care of,” Laurel hurried to say, not wanting to upset her grandmother further. “Just a misunderstanding.”
“I forgot that Laurel is an adult,” Nana explained to Zach. “In my mind she was still a schoolgirl, and she wasn’t home from school, and I got worried, so I called the police, and they came, and…oh dear, I’ve really made such a mess of things, haven’t I?”
Zach gently touched her shoulder and looked lovingly into Helen’s eyes. “Are you okay? That’s all that matters.”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I feel so foolish.”
His brow furrowed and he shared a worried look with Laurel. “Let’s just be glad everything turned out okay. What’s for dinner?” He looked over at his wife. This was a code the two shared that meant they needed to talk privately.
“Meat loaf,” Laurel said, heading toward the kitchen. “I need to get it in the oven.”
“I’ll help,” Zach said, following close behind.
The minute they were sure Nana couldn’t hear their discussion, he expressed his concern. “What was Helen thinking calling the police?”
“I know. And it was only last week when she got lost in her own neighborhood. What are we going to do?”
Sinking into a kitchen chair, Zach folded his hands, a habit he had when deep in thought. “This can’t continue. We need to bring someone in.”
“But who?”
“There are agencies that provide this kind of care. It’s time we looked into it.”
Neither of them dared to mention the expense. Somehow, they’d make it work. They both knew that Nana wouldn’t do well in an assisted-living facility. She was most comfortable in her own home, surrounded by all that was familiar and by those she loved.
Laurel lowered into the chair across the table from her husband. Her heart sank as s
he shared more unfortunate news. “Nana called me Kelly last week.”
Zach placed his hand over Laurel’s, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Kelly was Laurel’s mother, who had died in a freak accident when Laurel was ten. Her mother had slipped on the ice, hit her head, and died shortly afterward. Laurel’s father, Michael, regularly traveled out of state as a business consultant, and, unable to change his work commitments, he reluctantly sent Laurel to live with her grandparents. Eventually, her father had remarried and moved to another state with his new wife. Rather than uproot Laurel, he knew it was best for his daughter to stay with her grandparents. Laurel’s relationship with her father remained close, and they’d talked almost every night. He’d always stop by to visit when he was in the Seattle area, and she spent many school breaks with him and his new family. Laurel never doubted her father’s love and was grateful that he’d seen the wisdom of keeping her with her grandparents.
“I’ll research a few different home-care agencies tonight and give them a call before school starts in the morning,” Laurel said. Zach was right. The dementia was getting worse. They couldn’t risk leaving Helen alone any longer.
At dinner that evening, Helen pushed the food around on her plate, showing no interest in her meal.
“Don’t you like the meat loaf?” Laurel asked. Her grandmother seemed to have lost her appetite lately, and the weight loss was evident in the way her clothes hung on her body.
“It’s good, but I’m not hungry. If it’s all right, I think I’ll head to bed early.”
“But Wheel of Fortune is on.” It was her grandmother’s favorite show. Nana had watched it for as long as she could recall, and for her to miss it was yet another unwelcome sign for Laurel.
“The puzzles have become too hard. I used to be good at figuring them out. I seem to have lost my touch.”
Zach shared a look with Laurel.
“Would you like me to read to you?” Laurel asked her grandmother.
Again, Nana wasn’t interested. “Another time.”
While Zach cleaned the kitchen, Laurel helped her grandmother get ready for bed. Lately, Nana seemed to require more sleep and was often still in bed when Laurel left for school in the morning. Laurel attributed it to the medication Dr. Fredrickson had recently prescribed for her grandmother. Long sleeping patterns was only one of the drug’s side effects. It also caused vivid dreams that often left Nana disturbed.
The following day, Laurel placed a call to the first agency on her list to see about hiring a home companion to stay with her grandmother while she and Zach were at their respective jobs.
“I wish I had someone,” the woman from Caring Angels said, introducing herself as Elise Jones. “Unfortunately, every one of the caretakers in our agency is already out on assignment.”
“Oh dear.” This wasn’t the news that Laurel wanted to hear.
“I’d be happy to put your name on a waiting list.”
Laurel was already sadly familiar with waiting lists. The idea of being placed on another made her cringe. “Do you have any idea how long it will take before you have someone available?”
The woman hesitated. Laurel could hear the clicking of her computer keys in the background. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait. The situation with her grandmother was quickly becoming critical.
“I can’t see anything opening up before the first of the year.”
“That long?” Another month, Laurel thought to herself. All she could do was hope that someone would become available sooner, rather than later. The one bright spot was that with Christmas nearly upon them, she’d be home from school for a couple weeks around the holidays. Thankfully, she wouldn’t need to return until after the first of the year.
“Should I put your name on the list?”
Seeing that she had no other option, Laurel agreed. “Please.”
After giving the agency all the pertinent information, Laurel hung up the phone and called two other agencies. They had longer waiting lists than the Caring Angels agency. She phoned Zach to give him the news.
“What did you find out?” he asked.
“We’re on a waiting list. They expect to have someone available after the first of the year.”
Zach didn’t hide his concern. “Do you think she’ll be all right by herself until your Christmas break?”
“Do we have a choice?”
“I guess not,” Zach said, sounding as defeated as Laurel felt.
“I can always drive home to check on her during my lunch,” Laurel said, although she wasn’t sure how that would work. If she got caught up in traffic and was late returning, it would cause major problems, possibly even the loss of her job. She couldn’t leave the children unattended, and staffing was so tight that it was unfair to ask someone to watch her class until she got back. It didn’t help that she had signed up to organize the Christmas program at school.
How did my life get so complicated? Laurel pondered. Yet she knew in her heart that she would never ignore her grandmother’s needs. Nana had been there for Laurel when she’d needed her the most, and Laurel was determined to do the same for Nana.
At the end of the school day, Laurel hurried home without staying to do her normal paperwork, afraid to leave her grandmother alone any longer than necessary. To add to her list of things to be done that evening, Laurel had intended to bake cookies for the small party the staff was throwing for the main-office secretary’s birthday. A week earlier, Laurel had bragged about her grandmother’s recipe for snickerdoodles, and she’d been volunteered.
When Laurel came through the door, she found Nana sitting in her favorite chair, watching a rerun of Antiques Roadshow, with her fingers busily knitting. As a matter of habit, her grandmother usually picked up her needles and yarn at least once a day, but as of late, she was making little to no progress on any particular project. Helen looked up and smiled. Laurel noticed that she looked better than she had the previous day.
“You’re home from school already?” Nana asked, surprised at Laurel’s earlier arrival time.
Hanging up her coat, she sat down near her grandmother, pleased to see that she was looking more like herself. “What are you working on?”
Her grandmother stared down at the yarn for a long moment.
“Hmm, let me think. It doesn’t come to mind right away, but don’t you just love the yarn?”
Laurel patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Nana. It’s not important. The yarn is gorgeous, and so soft.”
Zach returned home a little more than an hour and a half later, and together, the three sat down for dinner. Just as Laurel was about to take her last bite from her meal, the doorbell chimed. Zach looked at Laurel and she at him.
She shrugged in response. “I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?”
“Nope. I’ll get it.” Zach slid back his chair and headed to the front door.
Laurel watched from the kitchen. An older woman stood on the other side of the threshold. She was dressed in a full-length wool coat with a thick scarf wrapped around her neck. She carried a basket on her arm and had a wide smile on her face.
“Good evening,” she greeted cheerfully. “I’m Mrs. Miracle.”
“Mrs. Miracle,” Zach repeated, sounding puzzled. “How may I help you?”
“I believe I’m here to help you. I understand you put in a request for a Caring Angel.”
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Jingle All the Way Page 18