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Baby on the Way

Page 8

by Lois Richer


  Should he have died in his brother’s place?

  He was brought out of his introspection by the slap of his father’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Come on, son. We’ve got to get those buffalo steaks seasoned and on the grill if we’re going to eat tonight.” He chuckled at Jordan’s quick look toward the kitchen. “I, for one, refuse to eat chicken.”

  The hint was subtle, and Jordan surged to his feet as Stan had known he would. “Chicken, yuck. Those are the magic words, Dad,” he whispered conspiratorially. They sneaked out while the women chatted and admired the newest antics of Robyn’s daughter Eudora.

  As they sat out on the deck, watching the northern lights wave and flicker in the black autumn sky, Stan questioned his son’s sudden silence. “What happened to the life of the party?”

  “I don’t know,” Jordan replied, then teasingly turned the question around. “Are you tired or something?” He grinned at his father’s smug look. “Maybe your age is catching up with you. Or maybe it’s the peculiar food you eat. Has Mom been feeding you Scottish haggis again?” He ducked to avoid the swat Stan directed at his head.

  They shared sympathetic male glances of commiseration.

  “She looks good, doesn’t she Jordy?” They both knew who Stan was talking about.

  “Yeah. Better than she did this afternoon, anyway.” Jordan filled his father in on the now ready nursery.

  “Why’d she keep away for so long, do you think?” Stan asked, his lined brow creased in thought. “Michael’s death should have drawn us closer.”

  “I know, Dad. But Lyn’s always been a loner. Remember that her folks died when she was little and she was left with that old aunt of hers for company. I guess all that kind of built up over the years and she feels isolated.” Jordan followed the white ribbon of light as it folded and rolled across the dark sky, turning green, then fading away.

  “When Lucy died, she left everything to her next of kin, that is, Caitlin. Never even named her. Not a very loving gesture to the girl who lived with her for so long. I suspect Caitlin doesn’t really understand the bond between families.”

  Stan nodded, his voice soft with affection. “At least she’s got the baby, son. That’ll help her.”

  Jordan shook his head. “I’m not so sure the baby’s a good thing for Caitlin right now, Dad. I’m not even sure she’s really over losing Michael.”

  When Stan’s white head reared back in surprise, Jordan tried to explain himself. “It’s not that I’m not happy about Michael’s child being born. I think it’s great.” He stared into the night trying to organize his thoughts. “It’s just that Lyn’s going to bank everything on this child, you know. He or she is all Lyn has left and her emotions are all wound up in that responsibility, in proving herself.”

  He took in a lungful of the cool, fresh air and tried to explain more clearly. When the harvest moon slid out from behind a cloud, Jordan could see leaves floating down to earth.

  “Lyn is going to have to be both mother and father to this child and the idea scares her. I think that’s why she’s backed away from you and Mom. She’s afraid she won’t measure up or something. She hasn’t had a role model for a long time, remember?”

  His father studied him wordlessly, his look thoughtful.

  “Since her parents’ death, Caitlin never had anyone who made her feel extra special. Then Mike came along to look after her, be her protector. Now she’s lost him and gained the responsibility of a new life. I’m not sure that what she needs are more worries. I think what she really needs is a childhood.” Jordan grimaced at his father. “Twenty-six is awfully young to take on all those burdens alone.”

  “It’s awfully young to die, too, Jordy,” Stan murmured softly, reminding him of Michael’s youth so quickly gone. “But we can’t question God. If He’s going to be in control, we have to let go and trust Him to work everything together for good.”

  “I know, Dad, I know.” It wasn’t anything Jordan hadn’t been telling himself for months now. “I don’t understand, but I’ll try to trust.”

  Stan straightened from his position with a groan, kneading the small of his back. “You know, son, if Caity never had a real loving home, then she’s never had the security of love that comes from a family like you and Mike had. She probably never found someone who cared about her until you guys came along. You two must have been like some kind of knights to her back then.”

  Jordan broke in with his own thoughts, his face heating with embarrassment. “I wasn’t that, Dad. She just had a crush on me. It was Mike she really loved. In fact, other than that short time she shared with him, I think she’s spent most of her life on the outside, looking in.”

  “So you’ve said before. But, Jordan, the thing is…” Stan stopped and stared up at the stars that glittered above. “Maybe the purpose of us in all of this is to make sure Caitlin finds out what it’s like to have love backing her all the way. Maybe if she feels she can rely on the rest of us, she’ll be able to let Michael go.”

  Stan met his son’s clear gaze head-on. “I think Caitlin is going to need us now more than ever. She’s a strong young woman, but nobody can do it all. Only God can do that.” His father grinned slyly. “Maybe you’ll be the one Caitlin will lean on again. That should please you.”

  Jordan thought about his father’s advice as they pulled the buffalo steaks off the grill and took them inside. He thought about it as the family ate dinner. He considered every aspect of having Caitlin lean on him, allowing much of the conversation to ebb and flow around him.

  A faint smile curved his mouth as he considered the likelihood of feisty, determined Caitlin Andrews leaning on his shoulder. It wasn’t apt to happen anytime soon, but he couldn’t think of anything he would like better.

  Caitlin perched on the corner of the huge double bed Stan and Eliza shared, admiring the quilt they’d come up to see. She’d been aware of what was coming when Robyn offered to load the dishwasher so they could “talk.” Now Eliza’s hand folded around hers.

  “Honey,” the older woman’s soft voice comforted. “I’m not complaining, but I wish you had told us sooner. So we could have helped you. It must be difficult for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Caitlin apologized, feeling silly for doubting their warm reception and yet still needing to hold on to her reserve. “I should have. I just wanted to make sure I could do this on my own, I guess.” She met Eliza’s probing blue eyes. “I feel I have to stand alone, be strong. Besides, you were busy.”

  “Not that busy! And you are strong, dear. The strongest young woman I’ve ever met. But sometimes it’s okay to lean on other people, too. At least we’re here now and you won’t be able to push us away. We’re going to keep you really close.”

  There wasn’t a hint of censure in Eliza’s smooth voice as she hugged her daughter-in-law, just a wealth of warm, unconditional love. She held no grudges.

  “Now tell me,” the older woman commanded, smiling. “Did you have a lot of morning sickness?”

  “No, thank goodness. I was never really sick, just sort of woozy some mornings. The oddest thing still sets me off.” Caitlin rolled her eyes back in her head. “Of course, some foods have the power to make my insides flip,” she acknowledged with a grin.

  Eliza nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I craved onion rings with Robyn, but one taste and that was it.”

  Caitlin giggled. “I just get the slightest whiff and whoosh…there goes my stomach. Hamburgers do it every time.”

  They laughed together at the vagaries of pregnancy and Eliza still held her hand as they wandered back downstairs.

  “I love having you here,” she whispered, a tear in the corner of her eye. “It’s like having my other daughter home after a long absence.” She tucked a strand of hair behind Caitlin’s ear and smiled. “Shall we see what Jordan’s up to?”

  As they walked through her home, Eliza related a few stories about her five attempts at motherhood, including Jordan’s unexpected ar
rival.

  “He was early, you know. Almost a month.” Eliza winked as they returned to the kitchen to find the two men playing chess and sipping coffee at the kitchen table. “But then, Jordan’s always been pushy,” his mother teased. “Never could wait his turn.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Caitlin replied tongue in cheek as she watched her brother-in-law sprawl across the table, reaching for his king. With a wing of dark hair dropped over one eye, Jordan resembled a mischievous little boy. He stared up at them through his lenses, one hand dangling over the chessboard.

  “Were you two talking about me all this time?” he speculated, puffing his chest out. “Of course, there is a lot to say.”

  He assumed a wounded look when they burst out laughing, but bore their teasing with reluctant good grace. He offered a few choice witticisms of his own that had them clutching their sides just as Natasha, the youngest of the Andrewses’ daughters, stuck her head through the kitchen door, closely followed by Olivia.

  “Caitlin,” Natasha squealed, enveloping her in a hug before standing back to survey her sister-in-law. “You look great. Big, but great.”

  Robyn groaned. “I’ve just cured Jordan of foot-inmouth disease, Nat, and now you start. Olivia, feed her a cookie, so she’ll stop embarrassing us.”

  Everyone began chatting at once and Caitlin sank into a nearby chair, enjoying it all.

  A few moments later Eliza questioned her daughter. “What have you been up to tonight? You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

  Natasha grinned her big toothy smile and shrugged her elegant shoulders, dislodging her white wool cape. She hung it on a nearby peg then smoothed a hand over her suede pants. As buyer for a women’s boutique in nearby Minneapolis, Nat always wore perfectly coordinated outfits in the latest styles. Caitlin envied her chic look.

  “Oh, just trying to get the rest of my Christmas shopping done,” she said, plugging her ears when the entire room began to protest.

  “Good grief,” Stan grumped, using his son’s favorite expression. “It’s barely the end of October. What’s the rush?”

  “Oh, you know Nat. Always be prepared. Good thing she’s going out with a Boy Scout.” Jordan put in his two cents’ worth with a smug look. He clutched his chest in pretended pain when his sister glared at him, her eyes daring him to continue.

  “Ow, that look hurt!” He burst out laughing when she ignored him. “You’re such a bully, Nat.”

  “Just because you never get around to doing any shopping until four o’clock on the twenty-fourth,” she reminded him with a sniff, “is no reason to make fun of everyone else, brother dear. Some of us are organized.” Her wide eyes beseeched Caitlin’s in mock despair.

  Caitlin couldn’t suppress a grin. They were like little kids.

  “You know, Caitlin, the man is almost thirty years old. You’d think he would have figured out by now that Christmas comes on the same day every year.”

  “What day is that, Nat?” Jordan kept his tone perfectly serious as he moved his knight one step closer to Stan’s king.

  “See what I mean,” she wailed to Caitlin, eyes sparkling.

  I see, Caitlin thought to herself. I see that you love Jordan as much as he loves you.

  That thought started a little ache in her heart. There was so much love here, she could feel it surrounding her, nestling her inside its warmth and protection.

  “Checkmate!” Jordan snapped his piece onto the board, then crowed with delight, rubbing his hands together with glee while his father sat frowning and confused.

  Stan protested, glowering as he studied the board. His eyes searched for some devious means that would explain his son’s sudden success.

  “You cheated Jordan. I don’t know how, but you did. There’s no way you could have pulled that off!”

  “Cheated?” Jordan’s big grin drooped. He thumped a fist to his chest. “You wound me to the quick!”

  “If you mean your heart, it’s on the other side,” Robyn chastised, but her lips twitched. “And you did take advantage of Dad. We just don’t know how. I think you should get closed-circuit TV, Stan.”

  “As if you know anything about chess,” Jordan sniffed disparagingly.

  “Children,” Eliza pleaded, although her face was wreathed in smiles. “No fighting when company is here.”

  “Caitlin’s not company,” Jordan denied. His big grin warmed her chilled heart. “Caitlin is family.”

  “That she is, son,” Stan agreed. He pushed the board away, then stood to press a light kiss against his daughter-in-law’s cheek. “That she is. As my daughter she should learn how to play chess, don’t you think, Eliza?”

  Eliza nodded absently. “I suppose so. Though it’s a rather boring game, I always think.”

  When Stan and Jordan would have protested at such heresy, she cut across their objections by urging everyone into the family room. Minutes later she and Robyn passed around her special blueberry pie and ice cream. As they ate, they talked, one voice over another, changing subjects faster than lightning. At one point Caitlin found herself involved in three separate conversations. She couldn’t help but grin when Stan got so involved in Olivia’s story to her that he ignored Jordan’s diatribe completely.

  “Yes, but you don’t understand politics,” he chided his daughter, a twinkle at the back of his eyes. “Women always take it too seriously.”

  “It is only our country, after all,” Caitlin teased, watching Olivia’s eyes. “No point in getting all hot and bothered about a little thing like that.” She burst out laughing at Stan’s guffaw of disgust.

  “Where’s Glen when I need him anyway?” Stan grumbled, searching the room for his son-in-law.

  “He’s working late so he can take the weekend off,” Robyn informed him. “And you two don’t agree on politics anyway.”

  “We’d agree about this,” Stan blustered.

  As the controversy raged, the entire family got into the act. There was no acrimony, no hard feelings, no overruling of one by the other. They bickered and squabbled good-naturedly while the last of the pie magically disappeared off Jordan’s plate.

  “I saw that,” Caitlin whispered.

  He nodded. “I know. And you’re not going to tell a single soul. Particularly not my dad. Right?”

  “Or?” For the first time in a long while Caitlin felt really alive, a part of something. She narrowed her gaze. “What will you do?”

  He thought about it for a few moments, his forehead pleated in a frown.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He licked his fork clean, then slipped his empty plate behind him on the bottom shelf of the nearby coffee table. “But it’s going to be really, really bad.”

  “Oh, no! Now I’m really scared,” she giggled, feeling the years roll away as she teased him.

  “Good.” His fingers laced through hers and he leaned back on the sofa, pulling her against the cushiony softness, his shoulder touching hers. “I suppose I’ll have to keep you here beside me, just to make sure you don’t blab.”

  “I suppose.” She relaxed, content to be quiet and observe the give-and-take of love that flowed so easily in this family.

  “Hey, Caitlin, are you awake?” Robyn turned the focus on her.

  Jordan shook his head, watching Caitlin smother a yawn. In seconds he was on his feet, reaching out a hand to pull her upright. “Right now Caitlin’s too tired to listen to you silly girls any longer.”

  The female contingent rose en masse in protest.

  He blithely ignored them all, tugging Caitlin toward the front door. Once there he dug in the closet, found what he wanted, then placed Caitlin’s thick coat over her shoulders.

  “Time to get the little mommy home,” he whispered for her ears alone.

  She frowned at him, knowing it would be absolutely no good whatsoever to rant at him for his bossiness. Who said she wanted to leave? What she wouldn’t give for a little more height and a really authoritative tone right now. U
nfortunately she was just too tired to argue. Instead she accepted his outstretched hand that held her gloves, tugged them on and walked obediently to the door.

  “I always said he was pushy,” Robyn muttered to her mother as they gathered around.

  “It was a lovely evening,” Caitlin murmured, hugging her mother-in-law goodbye. “I’m glad I came.”

  “I’m glad, too,” Eliza whispered back. “I just wish I had some free time to discuss that girl with you. Mary something, isn’t it?” She frowned. “We need to get cracking on some plans for her and that shy young man. It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately. Jordan’s looking after you, isn’t he?”

  There was an odd look on Eliza’s face that Caitlin didn’t understand. But there wasn’t a lot of time to think about it and she brushed the nagging questions aside. Eliza was involved in her own life. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted?

  “I’ve tried to make sure he gets over there every day to check up on you. It gives him something to do and then we know you’re okay. Otherwise he’d come over here and eat all my pie.” Eliza’s bland smile made Caitlin giggle.

  “He thinks no one noticed,” she whispered.

  “Of course he does. But mothers always notice.” Robyn hugged her too.

  “If you need me, you just call, Caitlin. I’d come over more often myself, but I just can’t spare the time right now. Besides, you’ve got Jordan.” Eliza said it triumphantly, as if the very idea thrilled her. “Since he’s home, he can lend a hand. I know he doesn’t mind and there’s so much to do in the church. It’ll soon be Thanksgiving!”

  “Don’t forget, Mom, I’m doing the pumpkin pies for our dinner,” Robyn announced, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  “That’s nice, dear. Don’t forget to put the spices in this year, will you?” Eliza glanced over her shoulder to be sure her daughter heard, then turned back to Caitlin.

  “Of course, Caitlin, if you need something moved or rearranged, Jordan can help with that, too. He has plenty of muscles and they need a good workout now and then. He does far too much sitting around, staring at those computers of his. It’s not healthy.”

 

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