by Pamela Bauer
“That was rather nice, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, but she’d returned to her shy self and lowered her eyes.
“We can’t be doing that,” Faith said as she fumbled for the handle.
“Why not?” he asked, making no attempt to stop her.
“Because I have no past.” She pushed the car door open.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No, it’s all right,” she said, getting out. “Good night.” And before he could utter another word she was gone.
CHAPTER NINE
TWO THINGS CAUSED Faith to lose sleep Saturday night. One was knowing that she’d broken a confidence and divulged Megan’s secret. The other was Adam’s kiss. The former she could justify because she had done what was in the best interest for Megan and her father. The kiss, however, she was having a hard time rationalizing. Just because it felt good didn’t make it right.
But it had felt really good. Adam had called it nice. Faith would have described it in a different way. Incredible. Delicious. Exciting. Sweet. The list of adjectives was long. What it boiled down to was that he was a good kisser and Faith wanted more of his kisses.
That was the problem. She had no right to want more—at least that’s what her conscience told her. Where that idea came from she wasn’t sure. Not knowing what people and events had filled her life before the accident was reason enough for her to believe she shouldn’t get involved with Adam Novak. And she wouldn’t. She’d decided that sometime in the wee hours of the morning just before falling asleep.
Finding her in the kitchen Sunday morning Marie said, “I didn’t expect you to be up so early this morning.”
Faith shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“No. I’m just feeling restless.” She wasn’t ready to tell anyone about her feelings for Adam. “Maybe I’ll go for a walk. Would you like to join me?”
“I would but Avery and I are working the pancake breakfast at church this morning. He helps out in the kitchen and I wait tables,” the older woman said with a grin.
Faith returned the smile. If there was one thing that she’d learned about the Carsons it was that their generosity didn’t just extend to her. They volunteered their time in many different places and never seemed to tire of giving of themselves.
“You make it sound like fun,” Faith remarked.
“It is. If you want to join us, we can always use more volunteers.”
It only took a moment for Faith to say yes. When she got to the church basement and saw the number of people waiting to be served, she was glad she’d agreed to help. It made her feel as if she was repaying some of the kindness that the Carsons had shown her.
By the time the last of the diners had filed through the serving line, Faith’s feet and back ached, but the sense of accomplishment she felt made it all worthwhile. While she waited for Avery and Marie to finish the paperwork they needed to take care of before they could leave, she decided to look around.
When she’d first moved in with the Carsons, they’d invited her to attend church services with them on Sunday, but she had declined. Praying silently by herself was one thing; praying with a crowd something altogether different. The thought of going to a religious ceremony and not knowing what to do or whether she even belonged there made her reluctant to accept their offer. Although Avery had said that like any other experience she may have, she could discover that she knew exactly what to do in a church, something stopped her from finding out.
Now, with time to explore without worrying about any people being around, she climbed the steps and went to see if anything looked familiar. She paused at the large double doors leading into the church. She pushed one open and peeked inside. It was empty.
Slowly she entered and ambled down the center aisle, taking in the interior of the church. Nothing about it looked familiar. Not the stained-glass windows filtering the early-afternoon sun, not the rows of wooden pews, nor the altar draped in a white cloth.
She sat down in one of the pews, pulling a red hymnal from the book rack. She opened it, flipping through the pages and glancing at the titles. None of them evoked tunes in her head. She put the book back and sat quietly, her eyes shut, trying to call up any memory at all that would connect her to such a place.
She heard the door open, voices speak softly and the door shut again. When she turned around, there was no one behind her. She got up and walked back toward the entrance. Standing outside were Avery and Marie with several other people.
“We didn’t mean to disturb you,” Marie apologized.
Faith shook her head. “You didn’t. I was just sitting in there. It’s very peaceful.”
“Yes, it is,” Marie agreed. “Faith, I’d like you meet a dear friend of ours, Bishop Foster.”
Faith smiled at the gentleman beside Avery. It was a dark-haired woman, however, who extended her hand upon hearing Marie’s introduction.
“You’re a woman,” Faith said, then blushed. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“And I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
She didn’t hear what followed because as she shook the bishop’s hand, she had a memory flash. She was in a dimly lit room where a woman sat on a bed brushing waist-length hair saying, “You must confess in front of the bishop.”
Startled, Faith found herself at a loss for words and was grateful when Avery said, “As much as I enjoy talking to all of you, we need to think about getting home. They say freezing rain is headed this way.”
As the small group dispersed, Marie said to Faith, “You weren’t expecting the bishop to be a woman, were you?”
She shook her head.
Avery slung his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t feel bad. You’re not alone in your reaction. The bishop is used to people being surprised.”
Faith smiled politely and followed them out to the car, debating whether or not she should tell the Carsons about the flashback she’d had, but something held her back. Maybe it was the feeling of guilt that had washed over her upon remembering that moment. She wondered what she could have done that would cause someone to tell her she needed to repent.
It was a question that was on her mind all the way home. And she didn’t doubt that it would have been in her thoughts the rest of the day had there not been a voice mail message waiting for her when she arrived back at the Carsons. It was from Lori asking her to call as soon as possible. Her voice sounded strained.
Faith immediately dialed Adam’s number. Megan was the one who answered.
“Hi, Megan, it’s Faith. Can I speak to Lori, please?”
“Hi, Faith. Are you coming over to take care of me? Lori’s sick and tired and needs to go to bed,” the child blurted out.
Faith frowned. “Can she talk on the phone?”
“I’ll check.” Faith heard a swoosh as the six-year-old hurried into the other room with the phone. It seemed as if several minutes passed before she heard Lori’s voice.
“Faith, hi.” She sounded subdued—nothing at all like her usual bubbly self.
“Megan said you’re not feeling well. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I’m just tired. I spent way too much time on my feet yesterday at the boat show and I’m feeling it today. The baby’s pressing on everything he can press on.”
“I’ll come take care of Megan so you can go home and rest,” Faith offered.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No, I’d love to do it. I don’t have any plans for this afternoon.”
“That would be good. What time should I pick you up?”
“You’re not picking me up. I want you to stay off your feet. I’ll either catch a taxi or have Avery give me a ride. I’ll leave as soon as I change my clothes. In the meantime, put Megan back on the phone for a minute, will you?”
Megan’s voice came on the line. “Are you coming over, Faith?”
“Yes. Until I get there I wa
nt you to do me a favor. Make sure that Lori gets to rest, okay?”
“Okay. Should I make her lunch? I know how to make a peanut butter samwich.”
“Maybe you should wait until I get there.”
“Okay.”
There was one other thing she needed to ask her before she hung up. “Did you talk to your dad this morning before he left?”
“Uh-huh. He wasn’t mad that we went outside. He liked our snowman. So did Great-Grandpa. He stayed overnight because he was going to the boat show again today and he didn’t want to drive all the way back to his house because it’s far away.”
“Then it’s a good thing he could stay with you and your father.”
“He tells funny stories. And he likes to play checkers. Guess how many times I won?”
“You can tell me all about it when I get there. I’m going to hang up now so I can get there as soon as possible, okay?”
“Don’t forget to bring an extra pair of mittens so when we play outside your hands won’t get cold,” Megan said before hanging up.
Faith didn’t want to tell her that the forecast was for rain, not snow. From their brief conversation she assumed that Adam either hadn’t brought up the subject of her paternity or if he had, he’d managed to keep Megan from connecting Faith to it. By the time she’d changed her clothes, it had already started to rain. As she expected, Avery and Marie insisted they drive her to the Novaks.
When she arrived, she found Megan had done just as she had been told. Lori was stretched out on the sofa, a pillow beneath her head and a lap robe over her. On the coffee table was an assortment of food items including cookies, crackers, red licorice and an apple.
Noticing Faith’s eyes on the food, Lori said, “Megan wanted to make sure I wasn’t hungry.”
“I pulled the curtain so she could rest, but she won’t close her eyes,” Megan told Faith.
“I couldn’t,” Lori told her. “I’m too uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable how?” Faith asked, taking off her jacket.
“My back aches, my side aches, my feet ache…” She sighed. “You don’t need to hear me whine. I should go home.”
Something told Faith that she shouldn’t be alone. “Are you sure you want to leave? It’s nasty out there. It’s a sort of an ice-and-rain mix.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said with a flap of her hand.
Faith wasn’t convinced. “Why don’t you stay here until Greg comes home?”
“We’ll take good care of you,” Megan said, pushing Lori’s hair back from her face in the same manner as her aunt had done for her when she’d been in the hospital.
“But I’m not much fun when I feel like this,” Lori told her.
“You don’t have to entertain us, does she, Megan?”
Megan shook her head. “We’re going to go outside.”
Faith let that comment slide and looked at Lori. “How about if I make you a cup of tea?”
“I’d like that,” Lori said with a grimace.
It was while Faith was heating the kettle on the stove that Greg called to confirm what Faith had already suspected—Lori should stay put because of the weather. Megan and Faith kept her supplied with magazines and food, but she grew restless. She swung her legs down, forcing herself into a sitting position. She placed a hand on her enormous stomach. “I don’t know what this kid is doing in there, but he’s way too close to my bladder.” She stretched out her hand. “Help me up, will you?”
Faith did as she requested and pulled her upright. “The baby looks awfully low.”
“You’re telling me. I have so much pressure I feel as if he could fall out. That’s one of the reasons I’ve been off my feet as much as possible.”
“Your time is getting close.”
Lori shook her head. “Not close enough. When I was at the doctor’s on Friday he told me it would be at least another week yet.” She grimaced as she waddled toward the bathroom.
“You don’t look like you’re going to make it another week.”
“Believe me, today I don’t feel like it.”
“You’re not having contractions, are you?” Faith asked when she saw how slowly she was moving.
“I don’t know. I have so much discomfort I’m not sure what it is. I just feel weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Like I just peed my pants.” She glanced down. “Omigosh. I did pee my pants.” She shot a look of panic at Faith.
Faith looked down and saw wet stains down the legs of Lori’s slacks. “Your water is leaking.”
She stood staring at Faith, as if in shock. Suddenly a rush of water fell onto the hardwood floor and she gasped in horror.
“Correction. Your water broke,” Faith said calmly, stepping gingerly around the puddle of water. She took Lori by the arm and turned to Megan. “Run and get me a couple of big towels, would you?” The little girl took off up the stairs.
“Omigosh! Now what do I do?” Lori screeched. “What a mess!”
“I’ll clean it up. You go take off those wet clothes.” She gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the bathroom, then called out to Megan who was upstairs. “Megan, does your father have a robe Lori could use?”
The six-year-old came hurrying to the top landing carrying a stack of towels. “It’s on the door. Should I get it?”
“Yes, please,” Faith answered, giving Lori another gentle shove. “I’ll take care of the floor. You take care of you.”
Lori didn’t move, however, but stood watching as Megan handed Faith the towels and began soaking up the water on the floor. “The doctor said the baby wouldn’t be born for another week!”
“Looks like the doctor was wrong.” Faith quickly cleaned up the mess, drying the floor as best she could. Megan returned with a thick navy-blue velour robe that she gave to her aunt.
“Go change,” Faith ordered once more.
This time Lori did as she was told, coming out a few minutes later with Adam’s robe draped over her pregnant body. It hung nearly to the floor and held a hint of the woodsy cologne he wore.
“Smile,” Faith told her. “You’re going to be a mother.”
“But I’m not ready,” Lori said on the verge of tears.
“Sure you are. Now who are you supposed to call?”
“Oh! Greg!” She looked around frantically. “Where’s my phone?”
Faith noticed her purse on the floor and reached for it. “It’s probably in here.”
Lori dug through the leather shoulder bag mumbling, “I know I didn’t leave it at home. I’ve used it since I’ve been here.”
Faith glanced beyond her to the coffee table and saw the cell phone sitting there. She picked it up and handed it over.
Lori tossed her purse on the sofa and punched the speed dial. Faith listened as Lori told her husband what had happened.
“He’s coming home right away to take me to the hospital but I wonder if I shouldn’t call an ambulance,” she fretted.
“Maybe you should call your doctor first,” Faith told her, and watched a nervous Lori fumble with the phone a second time.
During her call to her doctor, some of her anxiety eased. Faith watched the panic slowly be replaced by a desire to do what was best for her baby.
As she snapped the phone shut she said to Faith, “I feel better. The doctor told me I don’t need to worry about getting to the hospital as long as I’m not having any labor pains, so I can wait for Greg. She told me to relax and time the contractions when they start.”
“Is Greg going to stop at your house and pick up your things?” Faith asked.
Lori rubbed her fingers across her brow. “You’re right. He needs to get my stuff. I’ve got my bag packed.” She reached for the phone again.
Faith listened to the harried conversation, noticing that Lori grimaced several times as she spoke to her husband. When she had finished Faith asked her, “Are you in pain?”
“I had a couple of cramps while I was talking to Greg,” she answe
red. She wrinkled her face. “Oooh—there, I had another one.”
Just then the Novak phone rang. Faith answered it and took it into the kitchen.
Her heart missed a beat when she heard Adam’s voice. “Greg filled me in on what’s happening. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Lori has spoken to her doctor and she’s just waiting for Greg to get here.” Her heart continued to pump irregularly. “You don’t need to worry about Megan. I can stay with her for as long as you need me.”
“I appreciate that. You shouldn’t have to be there too much longer. We’re heading out now.”
“You’re coming home with Greg?”
“I’m driving him. He’s so nervous I don’t trust him behind the wheel of a car, especially not in this weather. What does it look like there?”
Faith pushed the curtain aside and glanced out the window. “Icy. It was raining when I came, but it looks like it’s freezing on the ground. There’s a glaze of ice over everything.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“You think you’ll have a problem getting home?”
“No, but it may take us longer than usual. You have my cell phone number. Call me if anything changes, will you?”
“Yes.”
He was about to hang up when he added, “I’m glad you’re there, Faith.”
She stared at the receiver for several moments before hanging up. Then she heard a wail from the other room. She rushed into the living room and found Lori grimacing in pain.
“My back hurts so bad I can’t stand it,” she cried.
“Turn around and I’ll massage it for you,” Faith said, hoping to ease her discomfort.
Although she found some relief from the pain, Lori continued to shift from standing to sitting to lying down. When an hour had passed and there still was no sign of Greg and Adam, she began to fret.
“I’ll call and see where they are,” Faith told her, calling Adam on his cell phone. To Lori’s dismay, the two men had made little progress. Poor visibility and ice on the roads forced them to reduce their speed, increasing their driving time.
When Lori grunted and cried out once more in pain, Faith asked, “How far apart are the contractions?”