The Living Room

by Robert Whitlow

  “Uh, I’m Stacy Kennedy,” the woman said. “We’re in town visiting a friend from college who goes to this church.”

  Amy was unable to let the conversation die a natural death.

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “Kat Brown. She was Kat McCollum when we were in school together.”

  Amy knew the dark-haired, petite woman. She was married to a man who worked for an engineering firm. They had two small children and a baby on the way.

  “Kat’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to have a baby boy,” Amy blurted out. “And he’s going to have red hair.”

  The woman stopped in the middle of the aisle and stared at Amy. Megan continued for a second and then returned to her mother’s side.

  “How can you say that to me?” the woman asked, her lower lip trembling. “Do you know what I’ve been through?”

  “No.” Amy swallowed. “But you’re pregnant right now.”

  The woman turned and walked rapidly down the aisle without looking back.

  “What are you doing?” Megan asked Amy. “That was crazy!”

  Amy stayed where she was, as immovable as if her feet were stuck in cement. She watched Stacy reach her husband, who was waiting with Kat Brown and her spouse. The two women had their heads close together. Kat looked over her shoulder at Amy with a deeply troubled expression on her face before heading toward the exit.

  “Why did you say that?” Megan asked.

  Amy sighed. “I saw that young woman in a dream the other night. She had a smile on her face and was holding a baby with red hair. The baby was wrapped in a blue blanket.”

  “Why do you think it was her?”

  “I saw her face from the side during the service and just knew.” Amy pointed to her heart. “I had to say something to her.”

  “She didn’t have red hair,” Megan said.

  “Neither did her husband.”

  “And what you said really upset her.”

  “I know.”

  “This is too weird.” Megan started walking down the aisle.

  Amy followed at a slower pace. Several people greeted her before she reached the door, and she mumbled in reply. In the parking lot, Megan was talking to a group of her friends. Amy got in the car. She leaned her head against the rest and closed her eyes.

  What happened in the church was exactly the reason Amy didn’t want her nighttime trips to the living room to change from times of personal encouragement and experiencing God’s love to a download of bizarre information. She hated talking to strangers. She didn’t want to upset people. She didn’t want to be weird. She didn’t want to embarrass her family. She didn’t want to open her mouth and say something wrong. She didn’t want to ruin someone’s life.

  But Stacy Kennedy had looked so happy as a mother. There was nothing in the picture that flashed before Amy’s eyes that communicated anything negative. And few earthly joys can compare with a woman welcoming a wanted child into the world. The pressure of the message in Amy’s chest when she stood at the front of the church made her think she would explode if she kept silent. She tried to imagine how she would feel if she’d not said anything, but it didn’t compute. Megan opened the door on the passenger side of the car and got in. Amy braced herself for another onslaught.

  “Promise that you won’t ever say anything crazy like that to one of my friends,” Megan said.

  “I wasn’t trying to be crazy,” Amy said, her mind going back to how she’d felt as a little girl who innocently talked about her wonderful dreams. “I wanted to encourage her.”

  “You don’t do that by freaking someone out.”

  “I’m glad you went forward for prayer,” Amy said, trying to change the subject.

  “Yeah.” Megan looked out the window of the car.

  “How was church?” Jeff asked Amy and Megan when they came inside the house.

  “Part good, part superweird,” Megan replied as she continued through the family room and up the stairs.

  Jeff stared after her.

  “Where is Ian?” Amy asked.

  “Asleep in his bed. The second dose of pain medicine made him drowsy.”

  “Do you think he’ll be able to go to school tomorrow?” Amy asked, talking unusually fast.

  “Not if he has to take the pain medicine. He’s not complaining, but I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.” Jeff motioned to the stairwell. “What’s Megan talking about?”

  Amy plopped down on the sofa in the family room and told him about Megan going forward for prayer and what happened with Stacy Kennedy. Jeff’s eyes grew bigger.

  “Talking to strangers is taking things to a new level,” he said.

  Amy hadn’t told Jeff about her conversations with Chris Lance at work, but approaching someone whose name she didn’t know was even more outside the box.

  “I know,” she said. “And it didn’t go over well at all.”

  Amy put her head in her hands. “Megan said I was acting crazy, and part of me agrees with her.”

  Amy waited for Jeff to speak, but he didn’t. The phone rang in the kitchen. Amy didn’t look up.

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she said.

  Jeff answered the call.

  “Just a minute,” he said, then came to the opening between the kitchen and the family room. “It’s Kat Brown. She says it’s important.”

  Amy shook her head. “Tell her I’m unavailable.”

  Jeff relayed the message and was silent as he listened to a response.

  “She didn’t,” Amy heard him say before growing silent again.

  “Okay, I’ll let her know. Bye.”

  Jeff returned to the family room.

  “Is she going to report me to Reverend Harbough?” Amy asked.

  She could see herself being summoned to a Tuesday night meeting and dragged in front of all the leaders of the church where she would be subject to a Salem-style witch-hunt inquisition that resulted in her banishment from the church and complete humiliation from one end of town to the other.

  “She didn’t mention it but wanted to let you know they bought a pregnancy test at a pharmacy on the way home from church, and Stacy Kennedy is pregnant. She and her husband have wanted to have a baby for years but weren’t sure they could because of three miscarriages. A couple of weeks ago her doctor told her the chances of her conceiving again were remote. That’s why Stacy went forward for prayer this morning. She wanted the Lord to touch her and either heal her or take away her desire for children.”

  “She was already pregnant?” Amy asked flatly.

  “Yeah, that’s a safe bet,” Jeff replied. “But she didn’t know it.”

  “Why did she get mad at me?”

  “Kat said she thought you were eavesdropping on the prayer time and barged in with a well-meaning but badly timed attempt to give Stacy hope.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “I made that clear to Kat.” Jeff paused. “Oh, and she said to let you know there are several redheads in Stacy’s husband’s family. He would love to have a redheaded son.”

  Amy glanced up at the ceiling. The phone in the kitchen rang again. Amy shook her head. She felt partially vindicated but not confident enough to speak to anyone. Jeff answered the call.

  “It’s Natalie,” he said. “She saw you at church with Megan but says you left in a hurry, and she didn’t get a chance to talk to you.”

  “Tell her I’ll call her later,” Amy said.

  After he hung up the phone, Jeff returned to the family room. Amy followed him with her eyes. He sat on one end of the couch, and Amy, her feet tucked beneath her, sat on the other end. Neither of them spoke.

  “Everything turned out okay,” Jeff said in a hopeful tone.

  “For now,” Amy replied. “But what if Stacy Kennedy has another miscarriage? For all I know, I could have been seeing her holding her baby after he’s died and gone to heaven.”

  “Is that
what you really believe?”

  Amy was silent for a moment. “No, but I don’t want my life to be a series of extremely awkward encounters with strangers whom I tell something I believe is from God that I saw in a dream but may not make sense to them. They’ll look at me like I’m crazy or get mad. On top of everything, I may be wrong in my interpretation of what I think I saw. How would you like to live under that kind of a cloud?”

  “I wouldn’t, but don’t let your imagination run away with you. This wouldn’t be happening to you if God wasn’t going to show you how to handle it.”

  “That’s a very practical and easy thing for you to say.”

  Jeff opened and closed his mouth. Amy continued to fume.

  “You were excited when you started receiving inspiration in the night that helped you become a writer,” Jeff said.

  “Yes, but it was still a private thing. No one knows about that but you, the kids, and Natalie.” Amy paused. “And now Ms. Burris. This is totally different.”

  “It’s different, but not totally,” Jeff replied. “It’s still connected to your relationship with the Lord and the way he made you. Do you realize how blessed I am to be married to a person like you? I work with my hands for a living, and I’m proud of what I do because I do it well. But I’m married to a woman who goes to heaven in her dreams, writes books that encourage people from one end of the country to the other, helped save a man’s life earlier in the week, and today shared a word with a young woman who’d lost all hope of ever having a child. That’s pretty amazing.”

  While Jeff talked, Amy’s eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.

  “Is that what you really believe?” she asked. “You’re not just saying that to try to make me feel better?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you.”

  “I know,” Amy sighed. “And as long as I have you backing me up, I guess I’m going to be okay.”

  “I don’t plan on going anywhere, no matter what you do or say.”

  Amy scooted over on the couch until she was beside Jeff. He put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  Later, carried on the wings of Jeff’s unconditional love, Amy went upstairs to the writing room. But instead of turning on her computer and trying to work, she propped her legs up on the ottoman, closed her eyes, and took a nap. No dreams interrupted her afternoon rest.

  The following morning Ian felt well enough to go to school.

  “Don’t let anyone touch your arm,” Amy warned as she buttoned up his shirt.

  “Why didn’t I get one of those white casts so my friends can write on it?” Ian asked. “That’s what Ricky Little had when he broke his arm. By the time they cut it off, the cast was covered with so much writing and drawings that you couldn’t see any white. He took it home and put it in his room. It stunk terrible.”

  “It smelled terrible,” Amy replied. “And the doctor said you didn’t need a plaster cast. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to take care of your arm so it will heal properly.”

  “So long as it’s okay by the time baseball season starts.”

  After hearing Dr. Fletchall’s comment about the dangers of football, Amy thought it might be better to encourage Ian to play a less inherently violent sport like baseball.

  “I bet it will be. That’s still a couple of months off, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure. You’d have to ask Dad.”

  During her drive to the office, Amy phoned Natalie.

  “Did you hear what happened in church yesterday?” Amy asked when her friend answered the call.

  “Yes, I saw Megan go down front. I was thrilled. It’s so special when a teenager is willing to step out and be noticed in front of the other kids.”

  “That was great, but I meant about Kat Brown’s friend.”

  “I haven’t heard anything about it.”

  Amy described her encounter with Stacy Kennedy and Kat’s subsequent phone call to the house.

  “And you’re worried Kat is going to talk about what you did?” Natalie asked when Amy finished.

  “Don’t you think I should be? Even if Kat means well, I’m going to end up looking like a fortune-teller. That’s what Megan thought.”

  “She said that?”

  “No, she just said I was acting weird and crazy.”

  Natalie was silent for a moment. “I’m sitting at the computer and checked Kat’s Facebook page. She didn’t say anything about it on there. Do you want me to call her for you? I know her pretty well from the mission trip we took together to Mexico.”

  Amy had forgotten the connection between Natalie and Kat.

  “Would you? I know it’s a long shot to expect her to keep quiet, but it would make me feel better if you tried.”

  “Sure, I’ll call her this morning. She’s so busy with her kids that she doesn’t have time to spread a story.”

  “That would be great. If you reach her, let me know what she says.”

  Amy arrived at work. For the first time since she’d returned to the law firm, she felt like her tiny office was a sanctuary. She was sorting through Mr. Phillips’s morning mail when her phone vibrated. It was Natalie.

  “I talked to Kat,” Natalie said. “She hasn’t told anyone about your conversation with her friend Stacy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, because Stacy asked her not to. She wants to believe what you told her is going to come true, but she’s been so disappointed in the past when she got her hopes up and ended up having a miscarriage that she wants to keep everything confidential. Kat wondered if you would keep quiet, too.”

  “Did you tell her I would?”

  “Yes. She understands how vulnerable you feel and respects you a ton for stepping out to share with someone you don’t know.”

  “She does?” Amy was stunned.

  “Amy, everybody isn’t looking for a stone to throw at a person who is trying to obey the Lord.”

  “I guess I am being a little paranoid,” she said.

  “I’m not judging you, and don’t let what Megan said get under your skin, either. What did Jeff say?”

  Amy told her about the conversation on the couch in the family room.

  “Now you’re making me jealous,” Natalie replied. “I’m not sure Luke would say something like that to me—even if he had three days to prepare.”

  “I need to thank Jeff again,” Amy said. “We were so busy getting Ian ready for school this morning that I forgot to mention it. And I appreciate you calling Kat. It takes a huge load off my mind.”

  “And I’ll be praying that Stacy doesn’t lose this baby.”

  Amy remembered Ms. Burris’s words that divine information was often given for purposes of prayer and intercession.

  “Me, too. Oh, and the beef stew was awesome. Jeff ate three bowls.”

  Amy sent Jeff a sweet text message before putting her phone in her purse. For the first time since she’d received word that Ian had hurt his arm, she was able to relax. Ian was going to be okay, and it didn’t look like her Sunday morning encounter with Stacy Kennedy was going to blow up in her face.

  That left Michael Baldwin.

  twenty-two

  Tuesday morning Amy was sitting at her desk when she received a call from Carl Fincannon’s wife.

  “They’ve moved Carl to a regular room,” Mrs. Fincannon said, “and he asked me to call and see if you could stop by to see him.”

  Amy didn’t mention that she’d spent Saturday afternoon in the ER with Ian.

  “What if I swing by during my lunch break?” Amy replied. “I only get thirty minutes, so I couldn’t stay long.”

  “I don’t want you to skip your lunch.”

  “That’s fine. A missed meal gives me an excuse to eat a piece of chocolate later tonight.”

  “Okay. He’s in room 3259.”

  Amy jotted the room number down on a slip of paper.

  “I’ll see you around noon,” she said.
>
  On the way to the hospital, Amy passed the spot where she’d found Mr. Fincannon. She slowed down to take a look. When she did, she saw a flash of red caught in a bush not far from the water. She pulled onto the shoulder of the road, got out of the car, and carefully descended the bank. It was the red cap she’d seen in the dream. She held on to a limb and pulled the cap free from the bush. It was well-worn and dirty.

  Amy parked in the main lot and took the elevator to the third floor. Room 3259 was at the end of the hall on the left. The door was cracked open. She knocked. Mrs. Fincannon answered.

  “Come in.”

  Amy pushed open the door. Mrs. Fincannon was sitting in a recliner chair beside the bed. Her husband, an overweight man with slightly red cheeks and a head full of white hair, was sitting up in bed with his meal tray in front of him. His plate of food was empty, and he was sipping tea through a straw in a plastic cup.

  “You must be Amy.” Mrs. Fincannon smiled, getting up from her chair.

  “Yes. It’s good to see you.”

  Mrs. Fincannon gave Amy a long hug.

  “Thanks so much for coming by.”

  Carl Fincannon placed his tea on the tray. Amy held up the cap.

  “Don’t tell me—” He stopped.

  “Does this look familiar to you?” she asked.

  “It’s my cap!”

  Betty Fincannon stared at the hat for a moment and then burst into tears. Amy handed the cap to Carl, who put it on his head and pulled it snug.

  “Betty, I didn’t know you loved this hat so much,” he said. “You’ve been after me for years to get a new one even though this one was broken in just the way I like it.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Betty sniffled. “It’s not the hat. But it reminds me how blessed we are Amy came along and found you in that ditch.”

  Carl looked at Amy. “And I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. The last thing I remember was feeling dizzy when I checked out at the convenience store. I don’t know why I left my car or how I walked almost a mile before passing out. The doc said if you hadn’t found me, I wouldn’t have made it.”

  “I’m thankful I did,” Amy said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Almost back to normal, except my right arm doesn’t want to follow orders. I may have to learn how to cast my fishing line with my left arm.” He pointed to the empty tray. “And what they serve for food in here is barely enough to keep me alive. I can’t wait to get home and fry up a mess of fish.”