Her Unexpected Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Yes.”

  “Time off, well earned.”

  Emily didn’t disagree, but it felt odd, too. In retail, December was a highlight month of sale following sale, doing whatever it took to promote current trends before the January downturn. To not be busy felt out of place. She didn’t want extra time to think about her failed marriage and career, or her father’s prognosis. Being busy would be much, much better.

  Her phone buzzed just then. Grant.

  She smiled, stood and moved down the hall. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I’m desperate.”

  He actually sounded desperate. “What’s going on?”

  “Mary Flanagan was just taken to a Rochester cardiac center by ambulance. We’ve got to pick up all the kids within the hour, but they can’t reopen the day care tomorrow with the assistants because they’re not certified. We’ve got snow coming and I love my Aunt Tillie, but she can’t watch Tim and Dolly for a whole day, much less however long it takes to get a replacement.”

  “Poor Mary! Bob’s got to be frantic with worry.”

  “I’m sure he is. And there are only a few day cares in town, and Mary’s was the only one willing to take a little one with Dolly’s issues.”

  “Are you serious?” Allison and Kimberly looked up when she raised her tone. “How could a day care facility possibly say no to a child just because they have developmental disabilities?”

  “They said they didn’t feel equipped.”

  Equipped? To handle a perfectly wonderful if somewhat stubborn two-year-old? What was so hard about that? Kimberly moved into Emily’s line of sight, and pointed to their open December calendar.

  Emily met her gaze, nodded, then jumped in, both feet. “I’ll watch them.”

  “What?” Relief and surprise wrapped Grant’s tone. “But you’re working.”

  “I’ve got a light December and Kimberly’s back, so there’s plenty of time. I’m sure someone will step up to the plate to help Mary out, but until then, I’ll watch the kids.”

  “Em, are you sure?”

  Oh, she was sure, all right. The very thought that someone shrugged off a child because they were different made her even more certain. “Absolutely. I’ll go pick them up now. Do you have the car seats in your SUV?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll switch cars with you, then, and go pick them up. We can have an adventure.”

  “An adventure?”

  She ignored the caution in his voice. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Em, thank you.”

  Would he thank her so freely when she took the twins on outings? He’d kept them on a short leash up to this point, but Emily wasn’t a short-leash kind of person. She turned toward Kimberly. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

  “It’s the perfect time,” Kimberly assured her. “January will fill with appointments and we have a few winter events, but there’s nothing in the next few weeks I can’t handle on my own, and we can do the New Year’s gala together. Piece of cake.”

  Just when she’d been ruing having too much time on her hands... “See you later.”

  “I can’t wait to hear how your day goes.”

  “Fun and getting funner,” Emily told her, then dropped her gaze to her dress. “Once I go home and crawl into some jeans, of course.”

  An email alert came through the phone as she crossed The Square. Noel Barrister, with the word contract in the subject line and an attachment icon.

  She’d read through that later. Right now, she was off to a twin adventure. She hurried home, got changed and drove to the highway department offices. She walked in, greeted Jeannie and when Grant came out of his office to meet her, she reached out a hand. “Keys, please.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “And there’s not much lunch food for them at home. I figured they’d be at day care so—”

  Emily waved him off. “Chicken nuggets, Dad.”

  “And their nap time is always one thirty to three thirty.”

  “Or whenever they get tired,” she quipped. “Keys.”

  He handed them over, but didn’t cover the look of worry quickly enough. She made a wry face and folded her arms. “They will be just fine. And if you want help with this, I suggest you learn to trust, because if you start second-guessing every little thing I do, then—”

  He stood back, hands up, palms out. “You’re right, of course.”

  “She’s absolutely right,” Jeannie declared from her desk. “These kids are about to have the time of their lives!”

  “Yes, they are.” She smiled up at him, took the keys and turned. “We will see you tonight, Grant.”

  “Keep your phone on, okay?”

  “Of course.” She waved and walked out the door, then drove to Mary Flanagan’s. Dolly and Timmy McCarthy were about to have some fun. And so was she. She picked them up from day care, tucked them into their car seats, bought lunch and took the twins to her house. When lunch was done, she bundled them up, clasped a tiny hand in each of hers and took them for a walk around The Square.

  People greeted them. Some stopped to chat, while others called out and went on.

  The twins stared, shied away and stared again, but by the time she got them back to her driveway, they’d started smiling and waving at people.

  She’d heard the forecast of snow that morning, which wasn’t a big deal when you walked to work, but two kids and a five-mile trip was a little different. A glance west showed a dark ridge moving their way. She ignored Dolly’s protests, changed diapers and tucked them back into their car seats. She texted Grant. Heading to your place before snow.

  His text came back immediately. Good!

  Grant was a helicopter parent, no doubt about it. Could he relax and take a step back? Life held surprises, but if one trusted in God...

  Did Grant trust in God? Did he trust in anything?

  Dolly dozed off. Tim fought sleep until she undid his jacket and tucked him into his crib.

  She studied their rooms. No sweet pictures of Jesus with children. No Bible passages. No Noah’s ark decals or VeggieTales friends.

  There were eighteen little board books about animals, and not one about baby Jesus.

  Could she make a difference in their lives? Or better yet, should she try? She didn’t know, and until she knew, she might be smart to keep her defenses up.

  * * *

  Grant wanted to check up on Emily and the kids.

  He didn’t dare, until the snow hit as predicted late afternoon, and then he called. “Hey, I’m going to be stuck here at least through rush hour. Are you guys home safe and sound?”

  “We are.” The joy in Emily’s voice uplifted him. “I made soup for supper.”

  “Soup?”

  “Mmm-hmm. By the way, two-year-olds don’t do well with soup.”

  He laughed out loud, picturing it.

  “Sure, laugh it up. We morphed to PB&J and they’re happy as can be. You’ll have soup to eat when you do get home. Tillie offered to come over for the night, so you might want to work that out with her.”

  “She spends the night when snow is predicted so if I get called in, the kids are covered. I’ll call her. Emily, I can’t thank you enough for today. I’ll start scoping out places for them this week and see what’s available.”

  “Kimberly assured me that my presence isn’t crucial at Kate & Company this month, so use me as needed. I am helping Rory with the Nativity play at church, so I have to fit their evening practices in. But that’s at night, so it shouldn’t cause a problem.”

  “My mother put us in some of those when we were little. I distinctly remember being a shepherd multiple times.”

  “I bet
you were a cute shepherd.”

  “I expect I was,” he drawled and made her laugh.

  “The play is in two weeks. You should bring the kids to see it.”

  “They’re two, Emily. They’re not going to sit through a play.”

  “Well, it’s short and I think they’d love to see a bunch of other kids doing things. Preschool kids always like to look up to school-age kids. And the music is precious.”

  Music. More specifically, church music. His mother had helped run so many church events, and she’d played piano for church plays and concerts. Maybe it gave her comfort. He didn’t know.

  He got nothing out of church. He’d had too many prayers go unanswered. He’d wanted his father back desperately, and oh, how he prayed. He grimaced, remembering. He got nothing, and when his mother fought cancer, she prayed up a storm.

  Nothing, again, so Grant was disinclined to waste time pretending. His kids had him, and he’d stand by them forever. “December’s busy enough. I have to make time to go shopping and get them in to see Santa. But I’m sure it will go well with you and Rory helping.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Her tone went from open and friendly to lightly impersonal. “Text me and let me know who’s getting here first, you or Tillie. That way I’ll let the kids know.”

  “I will.” He ended the call, but stared at the phone before setting it down. Her tone had changed. Why? Because he didn’t want to take Tim and Dolly to a play?

  A weather alert grabbed his attention, and as he and Jeannie talked to the plow drivers over the radio, he knew he’d be stuck at work for several hours, at least. He was about to call Aunt Tillie, when Uncle Percy walked in and handed him his keys. “Here you go.”

  “You brought my car into town?”

  Percy shook his head. “I dropped the Mrs. at your place to keep an eye on the youngsters, and I followed Miss Emily into town to get her car. She asked me to give you these.”

  Grant crossed the room and looked out the window. An empty rectangle of pavement stood out in the snow-covered parking lot where Emily’s car had been.

  She hadn’t stopped in or called to let him know she was heading back into town.

  He hid his disappointment. He hadn’t realized how much he’d looked forward to seeing her at the end of the day, until he didn’t.

  He pocketed the keys. “Thanks, Uncle Percy.”

  “Glad to help, and doubly glad not to be drivin’ the big rigs in snowstorms anymore. Too many cowboys on the road, not willin’ to give a plow room to maneuver. I’ll pick Tillie up in the mornin’. Oh, and she said you got a call that Christa’s dress came in. Miss Caroline left a message with Tillie, and Tillie said you’d let Christa know.”

  Christa. The wedding. The angry phone call from the week before. Guilt rose within him. “Of course I will. And thanks for dropping Aunt Tillie off at the house.”

  “Glad to help.” Uncle Percy said it and he meant it. Grant loved that about the aging couple.

  “Boss, you okay for the night?” Jeannie pulled her coat and scarf off the wall hooks beyond her desk. “If you are, I’m going to start my car and brush it off so it’s thawed out when I’m ready to leave.”

  He reached out a hand for the keys. “I’ll do it. I could use a little fresh air right now.”

  “I won’t refuse an offer like that!” She handed him the keys and motioned to the radio. “I’ll keep an eye on things in here.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” He walked into the cold purposely. He’d been downright frustrated since Christa’s call the week before. He couldn’t get her words or her sorrowed tone out of his head. It ate at him, as if he was in the wrong.

  He wasn’t. She’d been too little to remember. He remembered everything, in vivid detail. He’d put it all behind him, years ago.

  Really? So why are you still angry now?

  He didn’t know why, but Jeannie’s car got the most thorough brushing he’d ever given. As he rounded the hood, the dusk chorus of church bells began, an old Grace Haven tradition. Bells pealed from three corners of the town, joined by two along Center Street, and then the old stone church began its nightly hymn.

  Only this time they didn’t play a regular hymn. The tower rang out the plaintive notes of “Taps,” a song they played to remember servicemen and women.

  Pearl Harbor Day. He’d forgotten the date in his flurry to get the twins cared for. The old church was paying tribute to those who served then, and those who served now.

  He thought of Christa, so far away, wishing for family. He’d never been away. He’d lived his entire life in Grace Haven, making a name for himself in his community.

  Christa had braved the world, the armed forces and international travel. He remembered pictures of his father in uniform, on the wall. They’d all been taken down when he left, but he remembered them. Father and daughter, both willing to wear the uniform for their country.

  The last, drawn-out notes played on the wind. “God is nigh...”

  He wasn’t. Grant knew that, but the touching notes almost made him wish it was true. He stomped snow off his boots before he walked back into the office and gave Jeannie her keys.

  The song talked of all being well.

  It wasn’t, but was that his fault?

  No.

  He bit back a sigh as a driver called in. He keyed the microphone. “Grant here.” As the driver reported conditions on the southwest perimeter, Grant knew he’d said a mental “no” to accepting any blame, but as the snow continued to fall, he realized his answer should have been “maybe,” because three decades was a long time to hold a grudge.

  That realization stung.

  * * *

  Lucrative was an understatement for Noel Barrister’s contract offer.

  Great terms. Amazing benefits. Incredible perks, including wardrobe, and a six-figure salary that meant living in Manhattan wouldn’t be a struggle.

  Emily stared at her office laptop screen. Her heart thudded in her chest as she reexamined the document.

  Noel Barrister wanted her back in the company, badly. The question was why? And was she willing to entertain this offer and resume any kind of relationship with her former in-laws?

  The geographical distance and the no-fire clause inside a buyout option made her realize this offer could be a genuine possibility. She picked up her phone and dialed his number. It was after hours, but Noel wouldn’t care about that. He and Christopher’s grandfather hadn’t grown Barrister’s to a five-state chain without putting in the time. He answered on the second ring.

  “Emily, good to hear from you. My offer arrived, I take it?”

  “It did, and it’s quite generous.”

  “As promised.”

  “Yes, again. But why, Noel?” She leaned back in her chair and put her feet up. “What’s happened? And please just tell me outright—spare me the trouble of digging up current figure comparisons to twenty-four months ago.”

  “You answered your own question. Sales jumped appreciably when you were in charge of women’s clothing. They’ve dropped by double digits this year, and that’s a wake-up call. Not everyone sees how things will look. You do. It’s a gift and you have it.”

  She did. She understood body types, styles and fabrics. There was a science to putting the puzzle pieces together, but did she love it enough to work for a Barrister again?

  The offer tempted her forward.

  Common sense held her back. “You understand that I need to stay here for several months still. My father is undergoing cancer treatments, and I can’t leave my sister in a lurch.”

  “Unacceptable.” Noel clipped the word. “And no parent in their right mind would expect their child to miss an opportunity like this. Time is money, Emily. Always was, always will be. I’d need you here by mid-January at the lat
est.”

  “That’s quite impossible, so let’s end this call amicably. Goodbye, Noel.”

  “February first.” He barked the words and sounded pained to do so. “That’s eight weeks away. I cannot believe that your sisters can’t handle the business on their own come February. It’s illogical to think otherwise.”

  Could they?

  Rory wasn’t a fan of weddings and event planning, and Kimberly was rock solid in the industry, but they’d booked a lot of events for the coming year already. With her mother retiring, should she assume a place in Kate & Company? Or move on?

  “Train someone, for pity’s sake. Companies do it all the time.”

  He was right, but that wasn’t the question. The question lay within her. Did she want to stay? Or go? Did she belong here or there? “I’ll take it under consideration.”

  “I can’t wait forever, Emily.”

  “Noel, your impatience won’t gain favor with me. You’ve extended a professional offer. I will make a professional decision once I’ve had a chance to examine it. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye, probably miffed that she didn’t jump aboard immediately.

  She shrugged into her coat and scarf, turned off the lights and walked out the front door of Kate & Company.

  Church bells sounded as she put the key in the lock.

  She loved their joyful call to evening, the cooperative work of several churches, and when the old stone church began playing “Taps,” she sighed at the beauty of the music, the snow and the night.

  Could she stay and be around Grant and not grow to care too deeply for him? Did she dare? Or would she be smarter to cut her losses and start anew?

  The disciple Peter talked about being sober and watchful in his Biblical letters. He warned that evil prowls like a roaring lion.

  Was the lure of money calling her? Or was it the chance to succeed in her chosen career? Or both? And if both, was that wholesome?

  Questions dogged her. She paused by the town gazebo, the very spot where Kimberly and Drew had stood for wedding photos, and she gazed around.

  Let go and let God. Trust, Emily. Put your trust not in yourself or others, but in Him.