by Sally John
“I’m sorry.” She sniffled against his shoulder.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. I just feel so sad. Maybe this is what your mom calls mommy hormones.”
“What are you sad about?”
“Everything.”
He straightened and put a finger under her chin. “Come on. You’ve got me. You’ve got my adoring family as your very own.”
Well, technically, legally, she did not.
“That’s not sad, is it?”
“No.”
He kissed her cheek. “If you wanted to, Pepper and Mick would even think it great if you called them Mom and Dad. They’d adopt you in a heartbeat.”
She blinked rapidly, but not quick enough to stop tears from spilling.
He said, “But that’d make us brother and sister.”
She giggled.
“We don’t want that.”
“No.”
He gazed at her, his deep-set blue eyes penetrating, and waited.
“It…all this…even church this morning…it all makes me homesick.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry, Aidan.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
She disagreed. She was sorry to drag him into her misery, for his sake and hers. It added more reasons why he would grow tired of her. She was sorry she’d caused her parents so much trouble. At least her mom seemed to be accepting her, but she left a voice mail the previous day. Now she was back home with her dad, who would never give up until he got his way. Did her mom feel stuck in the middle? Could Kenzie help at all?
“Kenz, I’m sorry I don’t know how to fix your homesickness. Maybe I can’t.”
She shook her head. “Your parents are doing everything in their power, but I guess…I guess I want my own mommy and daddy to love me. Unconditionally.”
“Hmm.”
“I know, I know. My mom has come a long way. And on her voice mail about going home yesterday she said Dad was willing to talk more. Aidan, I have to take my own step. I’m responsible for hurting them.”
“But you can’t change that. You’ve apologized. Kenz, I just don’t want to see you rejected.”
“I have to try, though. One more time. With Mom there with her new attitude and the connection we had Friday night, it’s got to be different for him. And, Aidan,” her eyes filled again, “they’ve got to meet you. I just can’t stand that they don’t know this really cool guy who likes me.”
“Who totally adores you.” He brushed his thumbs gently under her eyes. “Who is absolutely wild about you. And loves you too. Not to mention is having a baby with you.”
“Will you go with me?”
A small hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned to see Mickey J behind them, his other hand on Aidan’s shoulder.
“Hey, you two,” he said in a stern tone. “No smooching at the dinner table!”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Aidan snatched Mickey before he could dash away, and they tickled him without mercy.
Kenzie so totally adored the Carluccis. They almost filled the hole in her heart.
Forty-Two
Palm Sunday night Pepper and Mick settled into bed earlier than usual. The full day ended wearily with them packing his bags. He had to leave at the crack of dawn to drive to a new road construction site. For the next few months his commute would be three hours each way. When not working on Saturdays, he’d spend weekends at home.
It was not an unusual situation for them. Pepper was accustomed to it…and she was not.
Mick turned the page. They were on 182.
She sighed. Although she’d checked out a copy from the library, the sad fact was they would each read the ending on their own.
But that wasn’t the most difficult situation lounging about with them.
“Mick, I can’t shake it.”
“Then maybe it is the Holy Spirit nudging you.”
“I just hope it’s not that scene at the table this afternoon influencing my emotions.”
“The one between Aidan and Kenzie.” As often happened, he intuited what she thought. “She is one sad little puppy.”
“She’s so wounded. I think she and Susan really enjoyed each other at the shower, but it’s like finding a corner piece in a jigsaw puzzle that has three thousand pieces. A start, yes, but they have such a ways to go. And then there’s the dad. Nincompoop.”
“Tsk, tsk. Did you know Kenzie thinks we adore everyone? Make that totally adore. Aidan said that she said she never hears a disparaging remark from us about anyone.”
“Well, obviously she’s missed my conversations about her dad. And your mom.”
“Hmm.” He turned the page. “So, if it is the Spirit nudging you, what do you think you should do?”
She grimaced. The Spirit nudged all right. “You mean besides pray for Drake?”
“Ah. There’s my true Pepper.”
“First off, I’ll fast for twenty-four hours. And of course I’ll pray for all of them. Maybe I should call Mildred. I’d like to get together with Susan. I am drawn to her, and not just because of our Grandmas out of Wedlock Boat. Maybe it’s because I’m so astounded at her transformation. She’s living, touchable proof of God working in the here and now.”
“That’s saying quite a lot.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Which one was Mildred again?”
“One of the seventysomething twins. They refer to her as the Prayer Warrior. I’m sure she’s praying too, asking God to heal this family.”
Mick kissed the top of her head. “The walls will come tumbling down. Drake Starr won’t know what hit him.”
“I hope he does. I hope he feels the full impact of what he’s losing.”
Mick shut the book and set it on the nightstand. “More importantly, I hope our little semi-daughter-in-law feels the full impact of God’s love pouring into her wounds, healing them as only He can.”
“Amen.” She snuggled under his arm.
“Amen.” He turned off the lamp. “Who put Mickey Junior up to his stunt?”
“You didn’t?”
He chuckled. “No. If I’d thought of it, I would have.”
“Me too. It pulled Kenzie out of her funk, but no one confessed to it.”
“Must have been the Spirit then.” He held her close. “I love you, Pepper Sprout.”
She smiled, and all the world’s woes drifted away.
Forty-Three
Late on the evening of Palm Sunday, long after her usual bedtime, Susan’s world teetered precariously on the edge of collapse.
It wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Okay.” She folded her hands in her lap and swallowed the quivery tone. With resolute finality she said, “I quit.”
Seated in the other winged-back chair in the family room, Drake rubbed his forehead.
The day had worn on him as well. At least it was not the one Sunday of the month when evening church services were held. Tonight people met in homes instead, in small groups. They fellowshipped. Susan and Drake did not participate.
They hadn’t eaten. Somehow she managed to remove the roast from the oven before it burned, but neither of them were interested. Somehow they changed from dress clothes into casual. Somehow Drake built a fire to warm the always chilly family room. Somehow they survived the hours laden with tension.
Somehow Susan had not shriveled once again into a bent posture or slipped her arms into a straitjacket, eager to placate her husband at any cost.
Perhaps the morning hugs in the church lobby from the Martha Mavens kept her going. Perhaps the knowledge that they exited the service in support of her filled her with courage.
“You quit what?” he said.
“I quit talking. I’m exhausted.”
Drake lowered his hand. “We both are, but nothing is settled yet. I see two impasses. One, you think we should coddle Kenzie. I absolutely refuse to do that.”
“Coddle is your word, n
ot mine.”
“Two, you think I should repeat my request to the entire church, asking them to pray for Kenzie.”
“It wouldn’t be a repeat since it wasn’t stated in the first place.”
His mouth worked so strenuously she expected a pink bubble to emerge from it at any moment.
“Drake.” She leaned forward, arms on her knees, surer of herself than she’d been all day.
The Marthas must have been praying up a storm.
She gave him a gentle smile. “We disagree on this. It’s all right for married couples to disagree, isn’t it?”
“Certainly.”
“I imagine other people do it all the time.”
“We’re not other people. We have to settle this subject before quitting. I can’t lead if you’re not on my side.”
“It can’t be a question of sides, Drake. I can’t choose between you and Kenzie.”
“We must agree on a workable plan regarding our daughter.”
“How about we agree to disagree?”
“Susan.” Exasperation pushed his voice up a notch.
They were breaking new territory here. Since midafternoon he hadn’t resorted to his just-above-a-whisper volume, the usual indication of agitation. Not that he yelled, but he spoke in a manner different than she’d ever witnessed. His breath came in irregular bursts. It was as if he’d…lost control.
Strange how that comforted her in a way.
His eyes flashed. “What in the world has gotten into you? I’ve never seen you so non-submissive!”
Ah. Now he’d named the true impasse.
Her muscles froze, holding her in that leaning pose, the one that offered to meet him halfway. “Submission means I have to agree with you?”
“No, not at all. We’ve exchanged opinions and disagreed. Fine. But now as head of this household it’s my duty to decide how we’re going to act. As a respectful wife, you’ll see the wisdom in following my lead.”
Feeling returned to her muscles and she straightened, her spine stiff as a ramrod. “If you don’t expect me to do something that goes against God’s Word.”
He blinked rapidly.
“My favorite preacher taught me that.”
“I’m not expecting you to go against God’s Word!”
“‘Parents, do not exasperate your children. Do not drive them to resentment.’”
“‘But correct them in the Lord.’”
“She’s been—Oh, Drake. I am not going to argue Scripture with you. The point is, I will not turn my back on her.”
“I’m not asking you to turn your back on her.”
Lord, talk about exasperation! Why can’t he let go?
“Susan, please.”
His voice carried the pouting tone she could now recognize immediately. His shoulders and face sagged.
And she saw him as a little boy. Like a kid threatened by a normally compliant buddy suddenly transmuted into nasty bully.
She leaned forward again. Halfway. “Drake, I love you. Please believe that.”
“Then let’s present a united front. Let’s—”
The doorbell rang. They exchanged a glance. The time was very late, but Drake was on call twenty-four/seven/three hundred sixty-five. There was no question of what to do.
But he hesitated getting out of his chair. Susan knew they both looked bedraggled, not quite presentable for company. Their minds were a million miles from being able to listen to another’s woes. It was the last thing they needed.
On the other hand, it provided the opportunity for Susan to quit talking.
She led the way to the front door and breathed a prayer of thanks.
Forty-Four
Ringing the doorbell at the house where she’d lived much of her childhood epitomized Kenzie’s relationship with her parents: locked out.
Lights glowed through curtains, so Kenzie knew someone was awake. She used to have a key, but it had gotten lost and hints had not prompted either her mom or dad to replace it.
As she stood in the dark, comparisons jumped to mind. They always did. The Carluccis were so off the charts when it came to hospitality. The entire family defined the word.
She shook the meandering thought from her head and glanced over her shoulder. Aidan sat in the van parked at the curb, watching her. He gave her a thumb’s-up. He had tried to talk her out of this, but in the end simply hugged her and said he’d be there for her no matter what, her own SWAT team in the wings.
Okay. She had to focus on what she had come to do and not whine that she was actually related by blood to the Starrs.
The porch lights flicked on and her mother opened the door, an instantaneous grin cracking her face. Her dad appeared, slower, somber.
“Hi, Mom. Dad.” Kenzie’s smile wasn’t as forthcoming as her mom’s. She felt it tuck in and out of her cheeks quick as a rabbit. Dread paralyzed her limbs. Oh, God. The prayer worked. Her smile stuck and she spread her arms. “The prodigal kid returns.”
Susan grabbed her in a bear hug. “Welcome, sweetheart. Come inside.” She shut the door behind her.
Pugsy yipped and raced into view, down the hall from the kitchen as fast as his short legs could pump. Kenzie knelt and caught him up in her arms. No time for dog talk. If she didn’t speak the rehearsed words, dread would close up her throat and she’d die on the spot. She propped Pugsy on her soft pudgy tummy and nuzzled him briefly. Then she turned to her father.
Drake stared back at her, no response on his face.
Kenzie’s courage drained.
“Well,” Susan said, “as soon as you two hug and make peace, I’ll order up the fatted calf.”
Kenzie blinked first. “Dad, I’m sorry.” The words burst from her. “What I did was wrong. I know that. Even if there weren’t a baby, Aidan and I should have waited. I’m asking you both to forgive me.”
Susan kissed her cheek. “Of course we forgive you.”
“Susan, she’s not quite finished.”
“Dad, what more is there? I really want your forgiveness. We goofed up. I admit that. God had a better way in mind, but we didn’t take it.”
“What about marriage?”
“We’re not there yet.”
“If you’re there enough to have a baby…” He nodded toward her midsection. “And it’s obvious that’s going to happen—then you’re there enough to take responsibility.” His breath came in funny spurts, disrupting his speech. “As married parents.” His volume increased and his voice bounced, echoing off the high walls of the open staircase in the entryway.
Kenzie had never seen him in such a state. Now that she noticed, they both looked as though they’d been out in the rain too long. Their clothes were uncharacteristically rumpled. Their faces had accumulated years, making them appear as old as Aidan’s great-great-aunt.
Her mother touched Drake’s arm. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Why don’t we go sit in the family room? Kenzie, would you like some tea?”
Much as she wanted to just hug her mom, she focused on her dad. Way too much baggage lay in his direction, stuff that had to be dealt with before she could move on or even further into the house.
“Dad, getting married isn’t going to right things.”
“It will right what you’re doing now, living in sin with that man.”
“His name is Aidan, and I am not going to guilt him into marrying me. He’d resent me for the rest of my life and probably our baby too!”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Dad, why don’t you ever listen to me? Why don’t you ever try to understand my side?”
He didn’t reply with words, but his breathing sounded like it came from a runner about ready to keel over.
Her mother leaned toward him, her hand still on his forearm, her knuckles prominent as if she clutched tightly. The chipper expression on her face was gone. “Do you resent me?”
Though her voice was scarcely above a whisper, Kenzie heard.
“What?” Drake said. “Why would
I?”
Susan’s eyes got big.
Her dad’s mouth did its funny pucker thing. It was not a good sign.
“Drake,” her mother said, “I forgive you. But it won’t continue.”
Kenzie felt as though she’d walked into the middle of a conversation. What were they talking about?
Her dad slouched and not just with his shoulders. It was like his whole body and personality wilted. He seemed smaller somehow.
What was going on?
Susan let go of his arm and smiled at Kenzie. “So. The prodigal returns, asking for forgiveness. Let’s embrace this moment. It’ll have to be with scrambled eggs, though. Last I checked, there was no calf out in the yard.”
Her dad said, “I can’t go back on my word.” His voice was a hoarse monotone. “No marriage, no welcome.”
Kenzie couldn’t believe her ears. “And no forgiveness?”
“You know what I said. I’ve taught it for years. What is there to forgive if you don’t change your sinful ways?”
“Drake!”
“Susan, the prodigal has not returned.”
Kenzie recognized his tone. It was the one he used to wrap up sermons. It meant he had no more to say on the subject. Throughout her teen years it signaled her exit.
She stepped toward the door. “Oh, well. I didn’t really expect a fatted calf. Maybe a bone. That would have been nice.” She set Pugsy on the floor. He lifted a forlorn muzzle to her. She missed him a lot. She didn’t think she missed her dad at all.
“Hold it!” Susan said.
Kenzie spun back around. What was going on? Her parents never argued in front of her. She really didn’t believe they ever argued, not even in private. And what had her mom meant, it won’t continue? What wouldn’t continue?
Her mom stood straight, hands on her hips. “We are not leaving things like we did in January. Drake, our daughter is welcome in our home.”
“I can’t agree to that.”
“Then I will spend time with her elsewhere. I will see my grandchild.”
“I forbid that. Your place is beside me, enforcing consequences.”
“She’ll be living out the consequences for the rest of her life. What is my not seeing her a consequence of? What did I do to deserve that?”