Family by Design

by Bonnie K. Winn

  “Quite a party today,” J.C. told her.

  “I think Chrissy liked it.”

  “Understatement.” He looked up at the sky. “Only gravity kept her attached to the planet. She was floating on happiness all day.”

  Maddie was silenced by the poetry of his words … the appreciation.

  “I didn’t realize until today how much work a party is. I don’t know how you made the time.”

  She shrugged. “I’m used to fitting a lot of different things into a day.”

  “Again, an understatement.” He shifted, brushing her arm with his.

  She swallowed.

  “I almost forgot we have this little garden.” J.C. glanced at the border of fuchsia and white azaleas. “I used to wonder why my mother poured so much time and energy into flowers that only bloomed two or three weeks a year. I know some varieties bloom for months, but ours didn’t. Looking at them now …”

  Maddie’s gaze followed his. Between the light on the roof and the shimmer from the moon, she could see the delicate flowers. “The blossoms don’t have to live forever. Every time I look at the bushes, I can picture the blooms long after they’ve fallen off.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  She wondered what he meant. “I’m not sure—”

  “You always try to see the best in every person and every thing.”

  Maddie inhaled deeply. “You think so?”

  “You don’t?”

  Her throat dried.

  “Maybe it’s a Pollyanna complex …” he continued.

  Jerking her chin up, she stared at him, wondering if he was teasing or mocking her.

  “And maybe you’re just a good person.”

  “I think I like the last description best.” She’d intended to make the words crisp, instead her voice sounded husky.

  J.C. leaned a fraction closer. “Me, too.”

  Was it the moonlight? Or the whisper of the stars? It couldn’t be her attraction to J.C., the way he made her heart yearn, or her breath to shorten. Swallowing, she closed her eyes tight against the feelings that swamped her.

  Yet she still sensed his hand hovering over hers. Along with the exquisite torture of wondering whether he would take it in his. When his fingers curled over hers, she gradually opened her eyes and slowly turned to meet his. Was that promise she saw in them? Afraid to look, even more afraid to turn away, she wondered. And hoped. And prayed her hope wasn’t in vain.

  The days flew by. Chrissy, buoyed by a new attitude, continued her nature outings with J.C. and Maddie. Heartened by the success, Maddie suggested attending Girl Scouts again. Together they looked over the list of junior badges and decided to try Camp Together first. Samantha offered her large backyard and Emma brought over a tent.

  Chrissy decided to invite Lillian, Samantha, Emma and her best friend, Lexi. Although Lillian couldn’t stay in the tent through the night, Chrissy wanted her to have dinner and roasted marshmallows with them. Samantha had prepared her guest room so Lillian could have a comfortable night. Emma planned to stay for part of the evening and then go home to be with her children.

  That left Maddie in charge of the girls. She thought of the campouts in her own backyard as a child. Her parents always made them special, memorable. By the time darkness fell, she imagined they were in a faraway, exotic spot. In the morning she was always surprised to find she was still in her own yard. She wanted to make the same kind of memories for Chrissy.

  Knowing Chrissy loved beanie weenies—pork ‘n’ beans with sliced hot dogs—Maddie prepared them ahead, needing only to warm the pot on Sam’s grill.

  The campout was on Friday night. J.C. had to follow up on two surgical patients from that day, so Bret and Seth did the heavy lifting. They carried the fire pit from the patio so the girls could use it like a campfire, and then they set up the tent. Maddie thought the four-person tent was the perfect size—they could all fit inside, but it was small enough to be cozy.

  The fire flickered cheerfully as they began dinner.

  Sam took a bite, then lifted her eyebrows. “Beanie weenies, huh? I didn’t know what to expect, but these are good.”

  Emma agreed. “Tastes like baked beans … I’ve made this and it never turns out … so good.”

  “Maddie makes it special,” Chrissy informed her. “With stuff besides the beans and hot dogs.”

  Emma shook her head, ruminating. “Obviously it’s the stuff that makes the difference.”

  “I just fiddle with the ingredients,” Maddie replied.

  “Next time you’re fiddling, write down the recipe. My kids will be grateful,” Emma said, then took another bite.

  Smiling, Samantha caught Maddie’s gaze, then subtly nodded toward Chrissy.

  Maddie could guess what her friend was thinking. Chrissy looked happy, unconcerned, like any other ten-year-old. Thank you, Lord. He was bringing Chrissy around, healing her pain, giving her hope. Swallowing, Maddie realized how much the child had come to mean to her. She couldn’t imagine how empty her life would be without Chrissy. Her stomach wrenched as she thought of the day J.C. would meet the right woman, get married, no doubt move away.

  Samantha leaned close to whisper. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course. Just glad we’re all together.”

  Her friend didn’t look completely convinced, but she couldn’t delve deeper with the circle of women and girls listening.

  As the sun set and darkness cloaked their little gathering, they chose sticks from the pile of mesquite that Samantha had collected. The girls were first to push their marshmallows on their sticks and hold them over the fire.

  Maddie brought the makings for s’mores and she helped Lexi and Chrissy assemble their treats. She turned to the other women. “S’more?”

  “Yes, please,” Lillian agreed instantly.

  Emma groaned. “I’ll have to walk ten miles to wear all this off, but yes, I want one.”

  Samantha shook her head. “I’m a purist, no graham crackers or chocolate.” She held her long stick over the fire. “I like my marshmallows almost incinerated.”

  Munching on their goodies, the evening quieted around them as neighbors settled into their houses and the already-lazy streets emptied.

  “Stories,” the girls chanted together.

  Lillian eagerly took the challenge first, telling them the story of how Rosewood had been founded by German, Czech and Polish immigrants. Her voice was dreamy as she spoke, remembering tales her parents had passed down to her.

  Maddie’s heart filled with joy seeing her mother so happy. J.C.’s treatment had improved her life beyond measure. Another blessing.

  Night deepened and the stories segued into the scary variety. Nothing ghoulish, just enough to cause a few goose bumps. When Sam finished her second tale, she nudged Maddie. “Your turn.”

  Taking a deep breath, Maddie looked at the girls’ expectant faces and began.

  J.C. opened the door of his apartment. The shop downstairs had been shuttered, closed for the evening campout. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it on the leather club chair. One Maddie had picked out, he mused, surprised the thought had sprung up. It had been a long day of surgery, office calls and hospital rounds. And he hadn’t had time to do more than grab half a sandwich. Wandering into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator. A sticky note with his name was secured to a foil-covered plate. Funny, he hadn’t really eaten that often in his own apartment. Maddie cooked all their meals. Breakfast before school and work, dinner when they converged after their separate days.

  Accustomed to a welcoming smile and a warm dinner, it was surprisingly quiet in the apartment. He peeled back the foil and stuck the plate in the microwave. When the timer beeped, he carried his dinner into the living room. The chicken enchiladas that Maddie had cooked for him were good, but he didn’t have much of an appetite any longer. Considerate of her to think of his dinner when she had the whole campout to get ready.

  Picking up the remote control, he flipped
between channels, not seeing anything that held his interest. He clicked off the television. Again, the silence was disconcerting. No chatter from Chrissy. No laughter or snatches of murmured conversation from across the hall. Sighing, he realized this was how it would be someday. Chrissy would grow up, go away to college. Maddie … he didn’t want to even consider where she might be then. An image of her with Owen Radley flashed in his mind. The man wasn’t good enough for her. Not that he wanted to think of her with any other man, either.

  Getting up from the club chair, J.C. paced the living room, pausing at the fireplace, remembering how they had discovered the first one in her apartment, crashing through the crumbling Sheetrock. How soft she had felt in his arms. And how soft her hand had been curled in his the night of Chrissy’s party.

  J.C. knew the thoughts would just torture him. Glancing over at the study alcove she had fixed up for him, he considered passing the evening catching up on paperwork. The thought held no appeal.

  The emptiness of his home was as blaring as a siren. He’d lived on his own for years before Chrissy had become his responsibility. And he’d never had any trouble relaxing or finding plenty to do when he was alone. Two books sat on the coffee table, ones he had been meaning to read when he had some spare time. He picked up the text on parenting. Although he had been keen to study it, the pages didn’t hold his interest. Maybe something lighter, the novel he had wanted to savor on a lazy evening. Switching books, he concentrated on the words. After ten minutes, he had reached only the bottom of the first page and he didn’t have a clue what he had read. What was wrong with him?

  Getting up, he forgot about the book in his lap and it thudded to the floor, the sound overpowering in the silence. An image of Maddie’s smile flashed in his thoughts. When she was planning this evening’s campout, she’d been so excited that a person might have thought she was the junior Girl Scout. And she had been disappointed to learn he had to be at the hospital and couldn’t attend the first part of the evening.

  J.C. glanced across the hall. The door to Maddie’s apartment was closed. Normally it was only closed at bedtime. Chrissy ran between both places as though it was one home. He supposed it was … when Maddie was there to make it so.

  Maddie drew out her words, building the suspense. Chrissy and Lexi leaned forward, their eyes growing bigger, the light of the fire flickering over their faces. It was just the three of them. Samantha was inside and Emma had gone home. “The old lady had one favorite thing—a quilt she had made as a young woman. She worked for a seamstress who allowed her to keep scraps of the finest materials like silk and satin. The old lady had collected them until she had enough to sew this fine, fine quilt. Her friends and neighbors always admired it. One neighbor in particular was always after her to sell it to him. But the old lady didn’t want that neighbor to have it. She sensed he wanted it so he could show it off and she wanted her treasure to be appreciated. One day the old lady fell and hurt her back. Because she didn’t have anyone to care for her, she had to move into a nursing home. She wasn’t even able to return home to retrieve her things, most especially her quilt.”

  Maddie paused, thinking that could have been her own mother’s fate. She cleared the lump in her throat. “Knowing this, the neighbor dashed in, took the prize quilt and hid it in his house. He spread the beautiful quilt over his bed, gloating at his success, finally turning off his lamp so he could sleep. His eyelids closed….” Maddie drew out the words slowly, building the girls’ expectations. “Just as he was falling asleep, the quilt began to creep, ever so slowly, moving toward the end of the bed. He tugged at it, thinking the fine silk and satin was just sliding because of its slickness. He closed his eyes and the quilt crept away again. Reaching to tug at the quilt, he realized it was out of his reach. His eyelids flew open! And he sat up in bed and watched as the quilt continued creeping until it fell to the floor.”

  She paused for effect. “Deciding he was being silly, the man fetched a rough woolen blanket to place between his top sheet and the quilt. Settling back down he closed his eyes, determined to sleep the best he ever had, now that he possessed the quilt. Sleepy again, he started to drift off when the quilt ever so slowly began to creep down.”

  The girls swallowed, their eyes huge.

  “He suddenly remembered the old lady’s words—that the quilt knew its rightful master and it would never be him….”

  Chrissy’s mouth dropped open a bit.

  “So …” Maddie stared at the girls “… the quilt began to crawl….”

  Lexi and Chrissy huddled together.

  Maddie lunged forward. “And landed right here!”

  The girls jumped back as though expecting the quilt to materialize, scrambling to get away.

  Laughing, Maddie hugged them both. “But we know that quilts can’t crawl.”

  “You sure?” a deep male voice asked from close by.

  Shrieking, Maddie and the girls leaped as though embers from the fire pit had scorched them.

  J.C. chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

  Chrissy stomped her feet. “Uncle James!”

  “Sorry, Pinker Belle, I just thought I’d come check on you, see how everything’s going.”

  Maddie clutched her chest, trying to catch her breath. “I thought you had to be at the hospital.”

  J.C. shrugged. “Got done.”

  Their small faces scrunched in annoyance, the girls frowned at him.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt …” He took one step backward.

  Recovering, Maddie shook her head. “You aren’t. We were just telling scary stories.”

  His face eased into a smile. “I heard.”

  Embarrassed, Maddie flushed, grateful for the darkness that disguised it. “Come sit down by the fire. We have plenty of marshmallows to roast.”

  “I didn’t think I was hungry, but that sounds good.”

  She frowned. “Didn’t you find the plate I left for you?”

  “By the time I got home … I wasn’t in the mood to eat.”

  “But you’re hungry now?”

  “Seems like it.”

  “We didn’t have a fancy dinner, but we have plenty.” She crossed the yard to the grill where she’d kept the pot over ebbing embers. “This is still warm.” Scooping out a generous portion, she handed him a paper bowl and fork.

  J.C. took a bite. “What is this?”

  “Beanie weenies,” she explained.

  He took a second bite, then a third. “This is really good.”

  “It’s pretty simple compared to the enchiladas.”

  “Maybe so, but it really hits the spot.” He finished off the bowl, then asked for another serving which he finished in record time.

  Across the campfire, the girls had begun to droop, although they were fighting sleep.

  Maddie stuck marshmallows on two sticks and handed one to him. “Requisite dessert for campouts.”

  “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

  Quiet descended, with only the sparks from the fire pit intruding. Nervous, Maddie tried to think of something to say. Truth was, she enjoyed the deepening shadows uninterrupted by words.

  J.C. checked his marshmallow. “Hope this stick lasts long enough that I can practically burn my marshmallow.”

  “You, too,” she murmured. “Samantha soaked the sticks in water so they would last longer.”

  “Clever.”

  “I have graham crackers and Hershey bars.”

  “Maybe on the next one. This smells too good.” He turned the stick. “It’s just about right.”

  Mesmerized by the length of his tall, muscled body, she forgot to watch her own stick.

  “Whoa!” J.C. moved even closer, grabbing her stick and pulling it out of the fire. “Hope you like them really well-done.”

  The light flicked over the cleft in his chin, his sturdy jaw-line. And her breath quickened.

  He turned toward her. “Do you?”

  “What?”

  J.C. sm
iled. “Like your marshmallow well-done?”

  Could she really see the gold flecks in his eyes? Or was it night magic?

  His gaze lowered and she realized his lips were only a hand span away from hers. Pewter beams of moonlight illuminated his face. The flecks in his eyes were truly gold. Forgetting to breathe, she inched closer.

  “No!” Chrissy called out in her sleep.

  Having forgotten the girls were still across from them, Maddie jerked back. Her throat worked and she struggled to speak, her words coming out in tiny puffs. “The story.”

  His eyes continued to search hers. “Story?”

  “The scary story … about … the quilt. I should check on the girls.” She swallowed. “Get them in the tent for the night.”

  J.C. remained silent, his eyes locked with hers.

  Chrissy stirred, her bad dream apparently continuing.

  “I have to …” she began.

  He exhaled. “I know.” But he didn’t pull away. His fingers cupped her chin.

  She wanted to lean into his embrace … his kiss. Reality hit like a wash of frigid water. What was she doing?

  Rising in one accelerated motion, she left his side, rushing to check on the girls. Her back to him, she wiped away the tears she couldn’t stop, any more than she could suppress the splintering of her heart. To have him so close, to imagine what it would be like if they could form a family. Knowing it couldn’t happen … Tears pooled, wetting her cheeks, ripping open her heart.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Maddie lingered over the calico pioneer dresses in the costume shop. She could picture Chrissy wearing a small version of the dress at the harvest festival, one that would match her own. Sighing, she pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Chrissy wasn’t hers to outfit and it was dangerous to keep going down that road.

  Since the night of the campout she was having to remind herself of that every single day, often every hour of those days. What if? she kept wondering. What if?

  “You thinking about renting one of those?” Tina asked as she waved goodbye to the customer she had been assisting.