A Family To Cherish

by Carole Gift Page

  Janee was sitting up in bed, cross-legged. A young nurse with rosy cheeks and French braids was helping her dress, pulling an undershirt over her head. “There you are, sweet pea. Now we have a pretty little dress for you to wear. Isn’t that the cutest thing? You’re going to look so pretty when you go home.”

  Barbara crossed the room and stood at the foot of the bed. “Well, look at you, Janee,” she said in her most animated voice. She felt as if she were performing, or worse, auditioning, with her very life at stake. “Sweetheart, you look like Cinderella going to the ball.”

  The child looked up guardedly, her face framed with silky flaxen curls, her large cerulean eyes filled with doubt. “I’m not Cinderella. I’m Janee. I’m going home.”

  “Yes, you are,” Barbara said brightly. No sense in telling her whose home she would be going to. She would find out soon enough.

  Doug joined Barbara at the foot of the bed and drummed his fingers on the metal rail. “You know what, Janee? You’re going to fly in a big airplane. Won’t that be fun?”

  The nurse helped Janee into a pink taffeta dress with ruffles and lace. “Janee has been our favorite patient, Mrs. Logan,” she said as she buttoned the dress. “We’re going to hate to see her go.”

  “We appreciate all you and the other doctors and nurses have done for her,” said Doug in his efficient, professional voice.

  “It was the least we could do, Dr. Logan, considering what this poor child’s been through.” The young woman paused, a shadow darkening her attractive features. “Does she know?”

  “Not everything,” said Barbara. “In time.”

  The nurse fluffed Janee’s curls. “Well, I’m going to get a wheelchair to take Janee down to your car. Hospital policy, you know. You might look around, Mrs. Logan, and make sure you have all of Janee’s things.”

  Barbara went to the small closet and opened it. Janee’s sweater hung on a hanger, but otherwise the closet was empty.

  “There’s a plastic bag of her things here on the dresser,” said Doug. “I’ll check the drawers, too.”

  “Most of her things should be arriving at the house about the same time we do,” said Barbara. They had given away the bicycle, and toys too large to mail. They could always buy her some new things later.

  Janee grabbed up a scruffy teddy bear with button eyes, which was lying on the pillow beside her. She hugged the bear tightly against her chest. “We’re going bye-bye, Zowie,” she chirped.

  “We sure are,” said Barbara, “and won’t we have fun!” Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. Janee seemed happy enough to be with them. Maybe, just maybe everything would go smoothly. But a moment later Barbara realized she had assumed too much too soon.

  “Where’s my mommy?” Janee asked, jutting out her lower lip.

  Barbara and Doug looked at each other, and she inhaled sharply. No, this wasn’t going to be easy for any of them. She put down the guardrail and sat on the hospital bed beside Janee. “Do you remember what Aunt Pam and I told you yesterday, Janee?”

  Janee shook her head, her eyes lowered, her long lashes shadowing her cheeks.

  Barbara ran her fingers through the child’s soft, shiny curls. “We told you your mommy and daddy had to go away. Remember?”

  A tear slid down Janee’s round cheek. “I want my mommy.”

  Barbara’s throat tightened. “I know you do, honey.” She slipped her arm around the girl, but Janee wriggled away.

  “I want my mommy!” Janee said in the shrill tone that clearly preceded a tantrum. “Where’s my mommy?”

  The nurse returned with the wheelchair and lifted Janee gently into it. “We’re going for a ride, Janee,” she said in a light, singsong voice. “We’re going to travel around the world.”

  Barbara and Doug quickly gathered Janee’s things and followed the nurse and wheelchair out the door and down the hall. Outside, the nurse wheeled Janee over to their rental car, helped her into the back seat and buckled her belt.

  “Do you want me to sit back there with you, Janee?” asked Barbara.

  Janee shook her head and clutched her teddy again. “No, I got Zowie. He’s my friend.”

  Barbara nodded. “Well, if you feel lonely, honey, you give Zowie a big hug.”

  They drove in silence to the airport, Barbara aware of a sudden exhaustion seeping into her bones. So much had happened in such a short time, and now, even though they were returning home, nothing would ever be the same again.

  Once they boarded the plane, Janee seemed to perk up a little. They gave her the window seat, and she gazed out at the planes taking off and landing. “Look! All the big airplanes in a row,” she told Barbara as their airliner taxied onto the runway.

  “They’re lined up waiting to take off,” said Barbara. “They have to wait their turn.”

  “We line up in Sunday school before we go out and play,” said Janee. “Teacher makes us be quiet first.”

  “That’s just how it is for the planes, Janee. They don’t have to be quiet, but the pilot has to be very patient.”

  Barbara looked at Doug, seated beside her. “Janee mentioned Sunday school, and that reminds me. We’re going to have to get back into church. We promised Nancy we’d take Janee.”

  Doug reached for Barbara’s hand. “Of course we’ll go, Barbie. It’s something we should have done a long time ago.”

  The flight attendant, a young redhead in a blue uniform, came down the aisle offering pillows and magazines. She stopped and smiled at Janee. “Would you like some silver wings to put on your pretty dress, sweetheart?”

  Janee nodded.

  She handed Barbara the pin. “Ma’am, maybe you’d like to fasten the wings on your daughter’s dress.”

  “Oh, she’s not my—” Barbara began, then let the words die on her lips. What good would it do to explain? What difference did it make to a stranger that Barbara must play mother to a child she hardly knew? Barbara smiled faintly, took the pin, and said simply, “Thank you.”

  She fastened the pin on Janee’s dress, and the child gazed at it for several moments, running her fingertips along the edge of the long graceful wings. “Are these angel wings?” she asked softly.

  Barbara looked at Janee and for a moment no words came. Finally she managed to say, “I don’t know, honey. But I’m sure angels have very beautiful wings.”

  Janee’s face clouded and her mouth puckered. “I want to go home.”

  “You’re going to your new home, Janee,” said Barbara, forcing a note of enthusiasm.

  Janee’s lower lip trembled. “I want my old home.”

  “I’m sorry, Janee.”

  “I want my mommy and daddy.”

  “Oh, Janee, I know you do, but—”

  “Mommy and Daddy are in my old house. They’re waiting for me. I want to go to my old house.”

  “No, honey, we can’t. Your parents aren’t there.” Barbara groped for words. “They’re in heaven with Jesus, but their love will always be in your heart.”

  A huge tear rolled down Janee’s cheek. “I want my mommy.”

  Barbara started to slip her arm around Janee, but the child pushed her hand away and scooted closer to the window, hugging her teddy tightly to her chest. “We go home, Zowie,” she murmured. “We go home.” After a while her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

  Barbara looked at Doug and uttered a sigh of dismay. “Do we have any idea what we’re getting into? Janee’s never going to accept us.”

  “We have no choice, Barb,” he whispered. “We’ve got to make it work.”

  She laid her head wearily on his strong shoulder. “I don’t know if I can, Doug. Look at us. We’re as bad off as she is. How are we going to help her heal, when after all these years we haven’t been able to heal ourselves?”

  She felt Doug’s shoulder tense. “What do you mean, Barb? We’re doing fine,” he said gruffly. “Why do you have to analyze everything to death?”

  “And why do you have to deny
that our lives have been a mess since Caitlin died?”

  “Because you’re wrong, Barb. Our lives are whatever we say they are, whatever we want to believe. I can’t help it if you insist on wallowing in the past.”

  Her tone thick with resentment, she retorted, “Maybe that’s better than shutting down my emotions and working myself to death like you’re doing.”

  Doug heaved a disgruntled sigh. “Let’s not get into this here. Not now. We’ve got enough to deal with. Right now, let’s just concentrate on the child.”

  Barbara didn’t reply. She put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. It was another child, her beloved Caitlin, long gone, who haunted her waking hours as well as her sleep. How could she focus on someone else’s child when memories of her own lost daughter sapped her emotions and exhausted her energies? Heaven help her, what did she have left to give this needy, wounded child who wanted no part of her?

  Chapter Five

  Barbara and Doug arrived home with Janee just after dark. A warm summer rain was falling, thrumming the roof with a steady rat-a-tat rhythm. The house was dark and silent, and smelled stuffy and closed in. While Doug parked the car in the garage, Barbara walked around the living room, switching on lamps. Janee stood in the entryway looking small and uncertain, hugging her teddy.

  “Where’s the kitty?” she asked at last in a soft, tenuous voice.

  “Tabby’s staying with a neighbor,” said Barbara, trying to sound nonchalant, as if this were just an ordinary evening. When Barbara had realized she would be staying in San Francisco longer than a day or two, she had called Mrs. Paglia next door to come pick up their cat. “Would you like to go with me to get Tabby?”

  Janee shook her head.

  “That’s okay,” Barbara assured her. “We’ll let Doug go get Tabby. Would you like something to eat?”

  Again, a quick shake of the head.

  “Surely you’d like something, Janee,” Barbara pressed.

  Janee stared up at her, her round eyes glazed with tears. “I want to go home.”

  “You are home now, Janee,” said Barbara, wondering if the words sounded as foreign to the child as they did to her. Who was she convincing? Surely not Janee. Surely not herself.

  Janee remained in the foyer, clutching her ragged bear in her arms. “Where’s my mommy?” she whimpered.

  Barbara closed her eyes and drew a haggard breath. This was going to be worse than she had feared. It was a miserable, no-win situation. She went over and took Janee by the hand, then led her to the sofa. “You sit here, honey, while I go make your bed, okay?”

  Janee perked up. “In the pretty room?”

  Barbara bristled. “No, sweetie. In the room you stayed in when you came to visit last week. Remember? It’s a very nice room, too. You’ll be very comfortable there.”

  Janee sat down finally and stuck out her lower lip. “I want the pretty room with the dolls and bears.”

  Barbara felt her patience waning. “I’m sorry, Janee. That room is taken. It… It belongs to another little girl.”

  Janee was wide-eyed again. “What little girl?”

  Barbara scoured her mind for a reply Janee would understand, but she could think of only one thing to say. “My little girl.”

  Janee looked around curiously. “Where’s your little girl?”

  Barbara sank down on the sofa beside Janee, suddenly too exhausted even to move. “My little girl’s in heaven, Janee, just like your mommy and daddy.”

  Janee gazed up soulfully at her. “Will my mommy and daddy take care of her?”

  Barbara’s heart melted. “Yes, honey, just like I’ll take care of you.”

  For a moment the two gazed at each other with faint, lopsided smiles—a mother without her child, a child without her mother. Too quickly the smiles gave way to sad faces, and Barbara looked away, the familiar pain rising unexpectedly like a geyser. She stood up abruptly and said, “I’d better go make your bed, Janee. You look like a tired little girl.”

  Doug came bounding into the house then, his curly black hair studded with glistening raindrops. He was carrying their suitcases and Janee’s small bag. “It’s becoming a downpour out there,” he said, setting down the cases and running his hand over his hair. “We’re sure having a wet summer.” He looked from Barbara to Janee. “So are you two getting settled? Any problems, Barb?”

  “No. I’m just going upstairs to make Janee’s bed.” When Doug gave her a sharp questioning glance, she promptly said, “In the room she had before. The little room just off the guest room.”

  Doug’s gaze was penetrating. “I thought maybe…”

  “No, Doug,” she said coolly. “Don’t even suggest it.”

  Doug loosened his tie. His dress shirt was damp with rain and stuck to his muscled chest. “I’m going upstairs, Barbie, and get some shut-eye. I’ll take the cases up. I’ve got to be at the hospital early tomorrow. There’ll be a mountain of paperwork waiting for me.”

  “What about getting Tabby?”

  “It’s late. Leave her with Mrs. Paglia. She won’t mind keeping her another night.”

  “Okay. I’ll take Janee up to her room and get her settled. I’ll be to bed shortly.”

  “I’ll try to stay awake.” Doug gave Barbara a quick kiss on the lips and headed upstairs with the luggage. Barbara took Janee’s hand and crossed the room, turning off the lights as she headed for the stairs.

  On the way to Janee’s room, Barbara grabbed a set of twin-size sheets from the wardrobe and a set of towels from the hall closet. She led Janee by the hand into the cozy bedroom. “You sit in the little rocker with your teddy while I make your bed.”

  When the bed was made, she opened Janee’s bag and handed her a pair of Winnie-the-Pooh pajamas. “You can go in the bathroom and get ready for bed, sweetie. I’ll get you a glass of water and put on the night-light for you.”

  Janee padded off to the bathroom in silence, and returned minutes later, still hugging her floppy bear. Barbara pulled back the covers and said softly, “Into bed, honey.”

  Janee climbed into the bed and lay very still, staring up at the ceiling, solemn-faced, her droopy bear nestled on her chest. Barbara tucked the covers up around Janee’s neck and debated whether to kiss her good-night. She decided against it. “Good night, honey,” she whispered, and flipped the light switch.

  “My prayers,” said Janee. “Mommy listens to my prayers.”

  “Of course.” Barbara sat down on the edge of the bed and waited while Janee folded her hands and closed her eyes. In a small, light voice she said, “Now I lay me down to sleep… I pray the Lord my soul to keep… If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

  Barbara winced as tears gathered under her lids. Those familiar words, spoken with such trust and innocence, twisted in her heart like a dagger. If I should die…

  But Janee hadn’t finished praying. “God bless Mommy, and God bless Daddy, and God bless Aunt Barbara and Uncle Doug, and God bless Tabby, and Zowie, and…” The prayer went on for another minute or so as Janee surely named every person she had ever met. When she finally said “Amen,” Barbara joined her, echoing the sentiment. “Now it’s time to go to sleep, Janee. I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

  “Aunt Barbara?”

  “What, Janee?”

  “When will my mommy and daddy come get me?”

  Barbara caught her breath, suddenly weak-kneed. “They can’t come, sweetie. But someday you’ll go see your mommy and daddy.”

  “In heaven?”

  “Yes, honey. In heaven.”

  Janee’s voice wavered. “No! I want Mommy and Daddy to come here.”

  “Oh, honey, they would if they could. They love you very much.” Impulsively Barbara knelt and brushed a kiss on the top of Janee’s head. The feel of the child’s soft, tousled curls against her lips pierced a hidden alcove in Barbara’s heart, a secret place she hadn’t let anything touch in four long years. She reeled inwardly, smitten by
an inrush of pain.

  As a sob rose in her throat she straightened and strode wordlessly out the door. She padded down the hall to the master suite and hurried inside, shutting the double doors behind her.

  Doug sat up in bed, bare-chested, his face cast in shadows, except where a small bedside lamp etched his handsome features with a golden glow. “Are you okay, Barb?”

  She sank down on her side of the king-size bed and unbuttoned her silk blouse with shaky fingers. “No, Doug. I’m frazzled.”

  “I know, hon. It’s been a long day.”

  She finished undressing and slipped into a sheer nightie. “That’s not the problem, Doug.”

  “Then what is? Janee?”

  “Yes.” She climbed in beside him and stretched her slender limbs between the cool, smooth sheets. What a relief to be back in her own bed.

  “What about Janee?” asked Doug warily, lying back down and pulling her gently into his arms.

  Barbara nestled her cheek against Doug’s firm chest. “How can I be a mother to Janee when every time I look at her I see…” Her words trailed off, too hurtful to speak aloud.

  “I know, Barb. It’s hard for me, too. But what can we do? Let’s just take it a day at a time.”

  Barbara was silent for a moment, recalling the face of another child—her smiles, her laughter and tears, the bedtime ritual, the prayers, the good-night kisses. “It hurts, Doug,” Barbara whispered. “It’s like I’m going through all the right motions…with the wrong child. All I can see is Caitlin, but Caitlin isn’t there.”

  As Barbara waited for Doug to reply, she became aware of his deep, rhythmic breathing. Was it possible? He was already asleep! She lay quietly in his arms, her head still on his slowly rising and falling chest, and let her own breathing match his. Inhale…exhale. Slow and steady as gently lapping waves of the sea.

  This man she had loved for over ten years was closer to her than any other human being had ever been; she could feel the heat from his slumbering body warming hers. They were one in every way that counted. Over the years they had shared their most private thoughts and their most intimate times together. And yet, in the silence of this moment, in the pressing darkness of their room, Barbara had never felt more alone.