by Pat Simmons
Unexpectedly, Langston remarried three months shy after Regina’s burial. Joy wondered if her brother-in-law was carrying on an affair during her sister’s illness. But she had no right to ask. Somehow, Langston had left out his own children while he restructured his life.
More than once Joy wondered if it was because she had taken such an active role in her nieces’ and nephew’s lives before and immediately after her sister’s death. She had become the children’s legal guardian by the time her ex-brother-in-law returned from his honeymoon with his new wife.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my nieces and nephew and don’t mind helping to rear them, but I wish Langston would make them a priority in his life. Regina would be so disappointed in him. His lifestyle is anything but Christian.”
“Do you think he had an affair with that woman while he was married?”
Joy shrugged. His new wife, Mildred, had two children of her own. Bethani didn’t like the woman because she yelled a lot and even hit Bethani in front of Langston and he did nothing.
“Hussy. Humph. I call them as I see them.” They laughed together.
“It’s probably just as well. The woman has made it clear that she doesn’t want Langston’s children in their marriage.” Joy shook her head in disbelief.
“He’s a jerk for not standing up for his kids.”
Although her former brother-in-law’s behavior irked her, she didn’t like bad mouthing him. Langston’s willingness to sign away his parental rights to her was bittersweet. The children would have a loving home, but it would never make up for their father’s love.
“Well, I guess I better get back to my desk before the boss wonders about my monthly sales figures. Anyway, I’m sure Mr. Andersen will enjoy what you and the children have planned.”
Joy snickered at the remark. She was Kara’s boss. “He will.” Taking her seat, Joy glanced at her flowers, then she admired the screen saver of her wedding photo that included the children in the pose. Switching to work mode, she began to examine her reports. The company’s sales figures were up from the previous month, surpassing her expectation.
The day sped by with meetings: with management, her team and a client. Christian called an hour before Joy was about to head home. “Hey, babe. I decided to leave work early and cook dinner. How does beef stir-fry and a salad sound?”
“It sounds like I have a wonderful husband.” She grinned.
“Thank you, Mrs. Andersen. All you have to do is pick up the little ones from Mrs. Thomas’s. I already have Bethani. She’s making the stir-fry and I’m whipping up the salad.”
She refrained from teasing him about who was actually doing the cooking. Christian tried to spend individual time with the children, doing whatever they wanted, whether piggy back rides, or putting together a thousand-piece puzzle. He was working overtime to fill a void.
“I can do that.” She smacked him a kiss, then disconnected. God, thank You for blessing me with happiness that I don’t deserve. Not a full second later, her cell rang right back. “Yes, dear,” she cooed into the phone.
“Hello, Joyce, this is Steven…” There was a short pause. “I want to see Jada for Father’s Day.”
If Joy had been driving, her response would have been dramatic, like slamming on the brake pedal with or without a red light. Instead her reaction was more subdued since she was at work—she dropped her jaw and squinted at the phone. Why hadn’t she changed her number?
She didn’t want to be mean-spirited, especially since she had just praised God for a blessing, but as far as she was concerned, there was only one father in her child’s life. Mixed emotions battled for dominance. “Excuse me? You had almost four years to be a father to Jada and celebrate Father’s Day. You don’t wait for the actual day to get here to start,” she lectured him as she was about to explode with indignation, but God stopped her.
Have I not taken pity on you? God’s soft rebuke hit home as He whispered Jeremiah 31:3: I have drawn you with loving kindness.
Her spirit seemed to stand at attention; she adjusted her attitude. “Steven, you surrendered your parental rights. She calls Christian daddy.” She hoped that was enough to cause him to retreat.
It wasn’t. Steven forced the issued with an edge. “Jada carries my DNA. There’s not a drop of his blood in her. She’s still mine, whether I’ve been a good father or not.”
We both know the answer to that one. Why did the devil pop up on the heels of her surreal moment? Taking a deep breath and then another, Joy thought carefully about her next words so that she wouldn’t have to repent before she completed a sentence.
“Joy, just think about it—please.”
God, this was not the Father’s Day I was planning. “Let me talk to my husband.” She disconnected quickly as Steven spewed a few choice words she didn’t want to hear.
CHAPTER 3
Christian practically stopped laughing mid-chuckle at one of Bethani’s corny jokes as Joy cleared the doorway with the little ones in tow. He sensed something was wrong. He had perfected the art of reading her body language.
The giveaway was her slumped shoulders more than the flustered expression on her face. Whether she was in heels or barefoot, Joy had perfect posture.
Going through the motions, Joy hugged Bethani and gave him a kiss, but the pretty brown eyes that could brighten a room were dim. Are you okay? he mouthed.
She smiled for the children’s sake, but shook her head.
Nodding, Christian could play along, but for only so long. They needed to talk in private.
Through hooded lashes, Christian watched her every move, so as not to alert Bethani that he sensed something was awry. However, the eleven year old was very observant. At least at the moment the little ones were vying for Bethani’s attention.
“It’s a house, Sissy,” Darla waved the paper with her artwork in front of her sister’s face.
“Mrs. Thomas…helped me,” Shane stuttered until he got his thoughts together, referring to their babysitter who was their former neighbor. His masterpiece was streaks of different colored crayons. Jada stood behind them, sucking her thumb.
Peeping over Bethani’s shoulder, Joy made a big production of sniffing the sauce simmering in the pan. “Hmmm. Smells good in here.”
Wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, Christian was always amazed how Joy could shift from businesswoman mode to doting parent in zero to three seconds. Even when something was on her mind, she never neglected to praise the children.
“Mr. Andersen and I cooked dinner.” Bethani beamed much to Christian’s chagrin.
Mr. Andersen. Whenever Christian heard Bethani say his surname, he braced himself for the slight prick to his heart. Of course, she never meant any harm with her sweet personality. Any parent would be proud to call the adorable girl their daughter, except for her own natural father, of course.
Christian hadn’t expected the children to call him daddy the moment he and Joy exchanged vows, but whenever Bethani called him mister, it was always a reminder of the gap he was trying to close with her.
The smaller children were easy, once they got over calling him Mr. Christmas. If Bethani’s younger sister, Darla, who was four years old, called him daddy, Jada, who was three and the mini image of his wife, did the same. Shane would mimic the others. But “daddy” never slipped out of Bethani’s mouth.
Doing his best to mask his hurt, Christian lightly tugged on Bethani’s long ponytail. “I put the rolls in the oven.”
“Yep.” Bethani backed him up with a nod.
“Well, I’m hungry,” Joy announced as the little ones jumped up and down.
“Me too,” they sang off-key.
After resting her keys and her purse, Joy ushered everyone to the powder room off of the hall to wash their hands. As she was about to trail behind them, Christian snatched her back and encircled his arms around her waist. She turned, snuggled into his chest and exhaled. He tightened the squeeze.
Christian looked up to see Bethan
i was grinning at him. Christian winked. If nothing else, he wanted the children to see what love looked like—smiles, hugs and even a few kisses in between.
Once Joy seemed to get her fill of his energy and cologne, enough where she had the composure to escape the security of his arms, he released her. As she walked away to check on the little ones, Christian admired his wife’s figure. While he had gained a few pounds since they had been married, Joy seemed to remain the same. How was that fair?
Her jet black hair first attracted him, then it was her dark facial features against her sun-kissed skin. His favorite color instantly became black when he saw her in a business suit in the checkout line.
Today she didn’t disappoint as she mixed a black and white simple sleeveless dress with black heeled scandals. He forced himself to blink. Turning his attention to the long overhead cabinets in their massive chef’s kitchen, Christian began to pull out the plates to set the table.
When they married, they started out fresh by selling their homes. Actually, Joy’s home would have eventually gone into foreclosure as she struggled to pay the note—despite her good salary—with the addition of three children.
He had purchased a five-bedroom house with a playroom on the third floor. An adjacent room on the top floor held a pool table where he was teaching Bethani and Joy how to shoot to beat his brothers when Nathan and David visited.
As everyone returned to the kitchen and gathered around the table, Christian led the prayer to bless and sanctify their food. Before saying, “Amen” he squeezed Joy’s shaking hands. It was hard not to be able to comfort his wife on the spot. If the children wanted to gobble down their food to finish, Christian wouldn’t object—this time.
“Father’s Day is coming. Know what I got?” Darla asked between crunching on a baby carrot from the salad on her plate. Her eyes were wide with excitement.
“You’re not supposed to tell,” Bethani scolded her sister.
“I know,” Jada shouted, raising her hand as if she was in a classroom.
“Remember what we said about surprises. Shhh.” Joy put her finger to her lips.
Christian smirked. He was just as excited about Father’s Day as the children. Whatever they gave him, he would shower them with love. Hopefully, Joy would take plenty of pictures of his first official Father’s Day.
Joy gave the children her undivided attention. Whatever drama was stirring seemed inconsequential.
Finally, when dinner was finished, the children scrambled upstairs to the playroom to watch a movie. Christian stilled Joy’s hand as she tried to clear the table. “I don’t know what it is, but I love you.”
Her eyes glazed as her lids fluttered. Christian engulfed her in his arms where she rested her head on his chest. “Steven called and he wants to see Jada on Father’s Day,” she blurted out.
He froze—his body, breathing and heartbeat. “You’ve got to be kiddin’ me?” That was too bad because he was going to have to pencil in another date. Steven’s biological link to Jada was not about to mess up the day Christian had been waiting for. Detangling his wife’s arms from around his waist, he gently moved Joy back. “What did you tell him?”
She exhaled. “I had to talk to you.”
Christian didn’t stop a smirk from surfacing. Before he came on the scene, Jada’s biological father had abandoned Joy and his baby. Christian had respected the man for at least agreeing to the adoption so that Jada could have a father figure in her life. It was a done deal, the ink had dried, so what was Steven trying to do?
Lord, help my mind, he prayed quietly as he had to shut down the pride that was swelling within him. The man had made a request to see his daughter. That was more than some deadbeat dads did. His lips betrayed him as he reluctantly reminded his wife of Steven’s status. “He is Jada’s father, babe.”
“I thought you were.” The lift in her brow set the challenge. “You adopted her. Steven has been out of her life. God, I know this sounds terrible, but I don’t want him in her life now. Jada has a wonderful father.” Joy’s half-pleading and half-demanding expression spoke volumes, basically something was broken and he needed to fix it. That tore at his heart. And that was a problem. How was he supposed to fix something in six days that took four years in the making?
At a loss for words, Christian was bolstered by her faith in him, but angry at Steven’s timing. Joy began to rub her temples, indicating an imminent stress headache. “Babe, go lie down. I’ll straighten up here. I need time to work through this in my head.”
The fight seemed to seep out of her before his eyes as Joy didn’t argue. After a weak squeeze around his waist and a soft tap on his lips, she padded across the hardwood floor to the back stairwell leading upstairs.
Alone to sort out the drama, Christian began gathering the dishes. God, how am I supposed to handle this? He waited for Jesus to answer. Nothing.
Okay, he huffed, scraping the remnants of food into the garbage disposal. He had two options—a resounding no because legally, Steven was out of luck. Then there was the unpopular option. Spiritually, Christian had to follow God’s instructions, whether he agreed or understood them. But why on his first Father’s Day? It was God’s call, but in Christian’s heart, he knew. Grrh. He pounded the countertop in frustration.
“Daddy, can I have wadder?” Jada burst through the doorway with Shane on her heels.
Daddy. Never before had her endearment meant so much to him than at that moment. Squatting, he cherished the innocent face of the little girl who was the object of his distress at the moment. Christian peeped around the corner waiting for Darla to make her appearance. They were like the Three Musketeers—all for one and one for all and all of them at the same time.
“Just a little.” Christian smiled, demonstrating with thumb and finger and stood. Any more than a half a kiddie cup and his wife would wake him to take them to the bathroom in the middle of the night. “Only if I can get a hug.”
They charged him until all their arms were wrapped around his legs. Somehow Darla had joined in the game. Christian made an exaggerated effort to get to the refrigerator, dragging them along, to their delight. Lord, I love them.
After giving them hugs and getting their juice cups, Christian was no longer the center of attraction. The little ones scrammed out of the kitchen, looking for Bethani.
Alone again, Christian’s torment returned from its holding pattern. What to do about Steven’s request. He called his father. “Hey, Dad. You feel like some company?”
“Is everything okay?” Philip’s voice went on alert.
“Yes…well no, but I do need your advice. Joy’s lying down, so do you mind if I bring the children?”
“Is she feeling all right?” His father sounded worried. Before Christian got engaged, his parents fell in love with Joy. After they exchanged vows, Joy became a daughter, not a daughter-in-law.
Christian exhaled and paced the floor. “We’ve just received some surprising news. She’s stressed out with a headache. I want her to get a nap…”
“Bring my grandbabies on,” Philip ordered.
“See you soon.” Once they disconnected, Christian hiked up the stairs to his bedroom. For a few minutes, he stood over Joy and watched her sleep. Despite the turmoil that hit them earlier, she appeared to be resting comfortably. Bending over, he brushed a kiss on her cheek; she stirred. Her lashes fluttered before her bedroom, misty eyes met his.
“The children and I are heading to Dad’s house. Take advantage of the quiet time.”
Nodding, she murmured, “Love you” then rolled on the other side.
“I love you, too, babe,” he whispered, fingering a silky strand of her black hair.
Backing quietly out the room, he followed the sound of the television to where the children were playing. “Let’s go visit Grandma and Grandpa for a while,” he said to their delight. “Shhh,” Christian coaxed them as he picked up tennis shoes and sandals to match corresponding feet.
They were hyped. A visit
to the Grans’ house meant nonstop snacks and an endless selection of board games. With Bethani’s help, the little ones were presentable in no time and everyone was loaded into the SUV. Despite their constant chatter during the short ride, Christian drifted into his own world and barely understood a word of what they were saying from their car seats.
Philip and Francine met them at the door with curious expressions. Christian shook his head to silence his mother before she could utter one word of concern.
“I have cookies ready to put in the oven, who wants to help?” she asked to a chorus of me’s. She ushered the children out as Christian and his father headed in the opposite direction.
Once they were in the den, his dad aimed the remote at the flat screen television, muting the baseball game. Yielding the floor to him, Christian rubbed his face as he collapsed on the overstuffed sofa.
“I’ve got a daddy crisis.”
“Is that your surprising news?” Phillip laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Give the little ones a few years and they will turn your house upside down,” he joked at Christian’s discomfort.
“Jada’s biological father wants in...” Christian paused. “And on Father’s Day.”
That got Phillip’s attention. A frown replaced his grin. “What did you say?”
“He wants Jada for Father’s Day.”
They eyed each other, understanding the value they placed on the third Sunday in June. As the silence ensued, the children’s giggles could be heard down the hall in the kitchen.
The seconds seemed to drag before his father responded, “Let the man see his child.” His dad didn’t blink. “If for no other reason than because he is Jada’s father.”
Christian’s reaction was tempered. Only out of respect, he didn’t raise his voice. “Steven stepped away from his responsibility. I stepped up to the plate…” he patted his chest, “and stayed. They’re my responsibility.”