Special Blessings

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  James was mowing the lawn on Monday evening, when he saw Gideon walking across the grass toward him with a glass of lemonade. And wonder of wonders, the boy was smiling at him. He let up on the self-propel handle and cut the motor as his son approached.

  “Hey, Dad.” It was Gideon's typical greeting. “You looked like you could use a drink.”

  “Can I ever.” James took a large swallow of the tart, icy liquid. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Gideon lingered, and James sensed there was something more than bringing good ol’ Dad a drink going on.

  “What's on your mind?” James sat down on the grass and stretched out his legs, setting his glass carefully in a flat spot so it didn't spill.

  Gideon sat down too. Good sign, James decided.

  “Dad, I owe you an apology. My attitude lately…”

  “Leaves something to be desired?”

  “I was going to say stinks, but yours sounds better.” They shared guarded smiles. “The thing is, I don't even know why I get so irritated.” He sounded upset with himself. “When I said I would quit JROTC, I didn't really mean it.”

  James sighed. “You’re growing up. Part of that is becoming independent. And part of becoming independent is rejecting anything—and anyone—who exerts control over you.”

  “You make it sound a lot more logical than it feels,” Gideon muttered. He picked a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers. “Anyway, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

  “Thank you. Apology accepted.” There was a moment of reflective silence between them, and James thought that a more lighthearted subject might be welcome. “So, do you want to come with me later to the hardware store? I need to buy a squirrel-proof bird feeder.”

  Gideon smirked. “Finally giving up, are you?”

  James nodded. “Yes, and I don't care who knows it. The squirrels have gotten the best of me.”

  “They don't have much else to do,” Gideon pointed out, “besides figure out how to get to their food source.” He frowned. “I thought the best type of feeders were expensive.”

  James grimaced. “They are. But when I think about how much money I spent trying to outsmart them and how mad your mother got at me, spending a little extra on a better design doesn't sound like such a bad deal.”

  “I hear you.” Gideon sighed. “Women get mad about the weirdest things.”

  James had to laugh. He clapped his son on the back. “And that, my friend, might be the most important lesson you will ever learn.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  HEATH HAD DINNER AT CANDACE'S HOME MONDAY evening. After dinner, the adults lingered over coffee, and Candace and Heath gave Janet the entire, unabridged story of their vacation with the Mullens.

  As Candace knew she would be, Janet was horrified. “I can't imagine taking my eye off children that young at the beach,” she declared. “Or anywhere, for that matter. What are those people thinking?”

  Willing to give the benefit of the doubt, Candace said, “I suspect they feel a little overwhelmed with three children, especially since one of them is still a toddler.” She thought of what Margie had said about having no time alone with Skip.

  “That's no excuse.” Heath still sounded shaken. “That accident didn't just affect them. I’m going to be having nightmares for a long time after pulling that little boy out of the sand. And then helping with CPR.”

  “Take a deep breath.” Candace reminded herself that in his daily work, Heath rarely saw the dramas and occasional tragedies that were part of a nurse's tasks. He wasn't as used to compartmentalizing his life as she was…as all doctors, nurses, cops, firefighters, and other caregivers and rescue workers were. It wasn't insensitivity. It was the mere fact that they couldn't do their jobs if they got emotional. And when trying to save a life, they couldn't afford not to do the job. “It was a scary couple of moments there.” She put her hand over his. “You were terrific.”

  “I didn't feel terrific,” Heath said. “I felt terrified. The only thing that kept me from losing it was you. You were so calm and collected. You knew just what needed to be done—”

  “I was doing my job.” Uncomfortable as always with praise, Candace waved away the compliment.

  But Heath had the last word. “Maybe so, but I was proud of you.”

  The words warmed her heart. There was a moment of silence during which Candace felt the tension from reliving the accident slowly dissipate. Then she remembered something else. “Mom, you need to tell us how your date went.” Belatedly, she checked to make sure Brooke was out of earshot. Somehow, she doubted Brooke was ready to think of her Grammy going on dates and having boyfriends.

  Her words caught Janet in the middle of taking a sip of coffee, and she snorted, nearly spitting coffee over the table. “Oh, I forgot I hadn't told you.” She held up a finger. “But before I forget, the bridal shop called on Saturday. Brooke's dress is done. They’d like her to come in and try it on.”

  “Oh, good.” Candace checked her watch. “They’re open until eight tonight. Maybe we’ll just run over there in a little bit.” She gave her mother a significant stare. “Now spill.”

  Janet's face creased into laugh lines. “It wasn't much of a date. I never actually met him.”

  “What? Why not? Was he creepy? Oh, I just knew this was a bad idea—”

  “Honey.” Heath squeezed her hand. “If he’d been creepy, I don't think she’d be laughing.” He had a point. “So what did happen, Janet?”

  Her eyes were still twinkling. “When I got to the coffee shop, he was already there. I knew him because he was reading a certain book we had prearranged. He also was wearing plaid Bermuda shorts, white socks pulled up almost to the knee with sandals, and…a button-down shirt with a bow tie.”

  Now it was Candace's turn to choke on the coffee, as Heath chuckled. “A bow tie? With shorts? You’re making that up.”

  “He looked very nice from the waist up,” her mother said demurely. “Almost like his photo on the site. Minus the bow tie.”

  Candace giggled, and Heath laughed even harder.

  “I feel so shallow,” Janet said. “I just couldn't imagine myself actually dating a man who wore white socks with sandals.”

  “And a bow tie with shorts.” Heath was struggling to get himself under control.

  She pointed her spoon at him before she stirred her coffee again. “Exactly. So I went to the counter and ordered a mocha latte instead of the strawberry drink that was our signal.”

  “Mom, this proves exactly why online dating is such a risky proposition.”

  “Oh, don't be silly, Candace.” Her mother grinned. “I’m sure there are some very pleasant men out there who don't wear bow ties.”

  “With shorts,” Heath choked out.

  A moment later, Brooke entered the dining room. “Why are you all still sitting here? And what's so funny?”

  Unsurprisingly, all three adults began to laugh even harder.

  It was seven by the time she and Brooke got to the bridal shop. But the same friendly saleslady met them. She found Brooke's dress immediately, and when her daughter stood on the platform to see if the length was correct, Candace felt her heart squeeze. She felt a moment's sadness. In just a few years, Brooke would be going to prom, donning a pretty dress. How nice it would have been if Dean could have been here to see it.

  But then she never would have met Heath. She smiled. She’d questioned God for a very long time after Dean died. When she finally had begun to accept and heal, He provided another man to share her life and be there for her children.

  “Mom.” Brooke's voice pulled her out of the moment of introspection. “Remember the lady said they had some dresses you might like? She pulled them out. Wanna try some on?”

  Candace started to refuse, but the stars in her daughter's eyes persuaded her. Brooke was so excited about this wedding. “Sure,” she said. “Where should I go?”

  “Right this way.” The saleswoman led her to a dressin
g room.

  She glanced at the four dresses the woman had hung for her. They were all lovely, fairly simple with far less sparkle and silliness than many of the others. Most importantly, all four had straps. Brooke clearly had been giving the saleswoman instructions on what her mother would and wouldn't consider.

  The first one was nice, but…she turned in a circle, looking at the back. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. If she didn't find a dress she adored, she could wear this. It was nice.

  She returned to the dressing room. Two of the other three she set aside to try on only if she was desperate. The third was pretty. Extremely pretty. As the saleswoman helped her into it, she began to feel a bubble of excitement rising. “Are you ready?” she called to Brooke.

  “Yes. Come on out.”

  Candace stepped out of the dressing room. As she crossed to the mirror, the look on Brooke's face was encouraging. “Mom,” her daughter whispered, “you look beautiful. I love this dress.”

  Candace stepped up onto the box. The dress was off-white, really almost a pale shade of pink, what the saleslady called champagne, with pearls and just a hint of sparkle. It was layered so that even though it clung to her body, it looked modest. And the neckline was very similar to the elegantly draped cowl on Brooke's dress, both front and back.

  “I love it.” she said. She glanced at the price tag and nearly sagged with relief. It was well within her budget. “Brooke,” she said, “you are a genius. You knew exactly what would work.”

  Her daughter beamed. “Don't even try any more dresses on, Mom. That's the one you should buy.”

  “I agree.”

  As they left the shop with Brooke's dress and an appointment for a fitting for Candace, she grinned at her daughter. “This calls for a celebration, don't you think?”

  “Ice cream,” Brooke voted enthusiastically.

  “Ice cream it is.” Because she had a wedding dress.

  “Anabelle.”

  Looking up from the desk where she was reviewing a chart before taking her break, Anabelle was surprised to see Emmaline Palmer walking toward her. “Hello,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Wonderful, thanks to you.” Em beamed. “Edith and I had dinner together last night, and we’ve spent all kinds of time together. We can't thank you enough for your intervention.”

  Anabelle smiled wryly. “There's a rumor that I’m known for my interfering.”

  “Oh no. You absolutely didn't interfere. We both appreciate the fact that you pursued reuniting us.” She paused, and her smile faded. “You could have caused me a great deal of trouble after what I did. Thank you. For everything.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Anabelle said warmly. “I’m so happy to hear that you and your sister are close again. Family is so important.”

  “It is.” Em took an envelope from her handbag. “To show our appreciation, Edith and I made a donation to your I’ve Got Bike Smarts! program. I deposited it this morning.” She smiled. “I know how dear that program is to your heart, and a little bird told me you’ve been dreaming about expanding it to a couple of other schools in the county.”

  Anabelle was speechless. It was true. She had thought it would be terrific to offer Bike Smarts! to all of Bureau County, but it had been just a pipe dream. Only Quintessa Smith, a fellow committee member, knew about it…and Quintessa worked right across the hall from Penny Risser who must have told Em.

  “Thank you, Em.” She finally found her voice. “Thank you so much.” She didn't want to tell Em how much it cost on an annual basis to provide all those bike helmets, but it was the thought that counted. Every additional child she could reach would benefit.

  “Open it,” Em urged. She laughed. “I know that's gauche, but…just open it.”

  “All right.” Anabelle fumbled with the envelope until she was able to withdraw an official-looking bank receipt made out for…for…“Are you kidding?” she gasped. “Em, this is huge.”

  Em grinned. “You did something huge for us, dear. We spoke to Penny and that other young woman about how much you would need to invest to earn enough annual income to purchase helmets. I know constant fund-raising can be exhausting. Edith and I thought that amount should cover it with a nice cushion in case the economy dips further.”

  Anabelle didn't care that her tears overflowed. She grabbed Emmaline Palmer, a woman she had barely known a month ago, and hugged her like…like they were long-lost sisters. “Thank you so much.”

  The moment Em stepped onto the elevator, Anabelle went on break. She shared the good news with all the nurses on the floor who had time to listen and then went downstairs and into the summer beauty of the little courtyard to collect herself. She was just preparing to call Cam to tell him the amazing news when her phone buzzed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mother.” The voice was not one she had expected to hear: Kirstie.

  “Hi, honey. What a surprise. Aren't you working today?”

  “Yes, but I’m on break.”

  “So am I. And oh, do I have some news to share with you.”

  She briefly related the story of the sisters’ spat and reconciliation. Then she told Kirstie about the donation to the Bike Smarts! program.

  “That's incredible.” Kirstie paused. “You know, Mother, my accident was a terrible thing for us, but just think how many lives you’ve touched as a result. And how many more you’re going to touch because you took the time to reach out to someone in pain. I detect the fine hand of God working through you.”

  “You detect that, do you?”

  “Absolutely,” Kirstie said. “Oh, wait. I almost forgot what I wanted to tell you. Yesterday something happened that made me better understand the fear a mother lives with.”

  “What happened, honey?” Anabelle immediately felt concerned by the gravity of both Kirstie's words and her voice.

  “Remember the kids I told you lived in the next apartment over? As I was walking home from work yesterday, I happened to glance up at my building—and there were all three of those children playing on the balcony, not an adult in sight. And as I watched, the nine-year-old climbed up on top of the railing.”

  Anabelle's blood froze. “Oh no.”

  “They’re not my kids, but I had dinner with the family. Their mom brought them to Shedd, and I gave them a special tour one day last week. I adore all three of them.”

  “And?” She couldn't stand the suspense.

  “I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to go inside for fear he’d fall. I had this insane idea that I could catch him—but if he’d fallen from that distance, he could have killed us both.”

  “Did he fall?” Anabelle whispered.

  “Oh no.” Kirstie's reassurance made Anabelle's knees weaken, and she collapsed gracelessly onto a picnic bench. “I called his mom's cell, and thank goodness she answered right away. Turns out she’d fallen asleep and had no idea the kids were out there.” Kirstie sighed. “I think I found a couple gray hairs this morning after that scare.”

  Her voice changed. “Mother, I can't imagine what you went through after my accident. What you still go through when you remember that day, and all the hard days afterward. I really just called this morning to tell you that you’re my hero, and I love you.”

  Anabelle smiled through the tears she was unable to banish. “I love you too. And I thank you for the compliment. I’m a firm believer in the ‘people rise to the occasion’ theory, and on a personal level, I must admit that I find it satisfying sometimes to know I did that when I had to.”

  “You’re still doing it, as that donation clearly shows,” Kirstie said. “I can't wait to see you and the family on Friday, Mother.”

  “We can't wait to see you either.” Anabelle swiped at a tear. “You and your Blue iguanas.” And they shared a laugh before ending the conversation.

  Chapter Thirty

  DAD?”

  James was putting away some garden tools on Tuesday evening when he heard Gideon's voice. “Hey, buddy.
What's up?”

  “Will you help me make a list of all the things I have to do over the next year to help me get accepted to a college and get scholarships?”

  “Of course,” James said. “I’d be happy to. And your mother is more than happy to help with that as well.”

  “Great! Can we do it now?”

  “Sure.” James said good-bye to the baseball game he’d been hoping to catch on TV.

  “Oh, and can I ask Jenni to come over for supper? She can look over my list too and see if we forgot anything.”

  “Ah. So she's speaking to you again?”

  Gideon grinned. “Yeah.”

  James considered the request. His son was still grounded, but his attitude had improved markedly. “It's fine with me if you invite her for dinner. Better check with your mother too, though.” As Gideon bounded away, James realized that even though the academic issues seemed to be resolving themselves, the relationship issues probably weren't going to disappear anytime soon. In fact, Jenni was almost certainly the catalyst for this about-face. If she was speaking to Gideon again, he probably had promised her he’d shape up.

  James supposed that it didn't matter why Gideon was suddenly more amenable to thinking about college. What did matter was that he was not going to be talked out of his intense adolescent feelings, and that the only way to really monitor his activities and actions in the next year would be to invite Jenni to do things with them as much as possible. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was reasonable, given his age and emerging independence.

  Candace's cell phone rang around two in the morning. She groaned. Slowly, she reached over and hit the backlight. It was Dr. Carpenter's number.

  A little surprised, Candace rolled out of bed and began dressing even as she reached for her cell phone. Usually the hospital called, or sometimes a patient. But very rarely did an obstetrician call.

  When the doctor answered, and Candace mentioned returning her call, Dr. Carpenter said, “Your patient with the Down's baby is coming in. She called a few minutes ago. Her water broke at home, and labor is progressing too fast for her to make it to Peoria.” Therese had decided to have the baby in Peoria because Dr. Carpenter had excellent connections in a hospital there that was reputed to be well prepared for high-risk infants. “I wasn't sure you’d get a call, and I know you’ve really been a support for these parents.”