by Jody Day
“I get it.” Might be disastrous for Bailey.
“Well, it was very nice to meet you both, and congratulations on your beautiful children,” she said, and walked onto the porch.
“Thank you.” I stood at the door until she got into her car, then went back inside the house.
Bailey was asleep in our bed. The twins slumbered peacefully in their cribs. Thank heaven. I backed out of the room as quietly as I could, but not before I noticed that Bailey’s face had the definite look of someone who’d cried herself to sleep. How had I not heard that?
I started on the wet mess of clothes strewn all up and down the hall. It really didn’t take long to mop up, and then start the dishwasher and the washer. Amazing how those two little ones could completely consume our time. Had I ever loved anything so much as Bailey and those twins? That thought immediately settled on my mom and dad. How they would have loved seeing me married and bouncing twin babies.
My love for Bailey staved off the underlying anger I felt toward her father. I was too busy trying to keep her from falling apart and I didn’t have time to deal with it. I knew I could never let it overtake me for her sake. He was dead now, anyway. Nothing to vent my anger on. And now Brenna. I had no problem with welcoming her into our family. I just didn’t think Bailey could take it. I suddenly realized I needed to pray and pray hard. Right now. I tiptoed back into our room and left Bailey’s cell phone on the bed with a note.
Bailey, I’m running a quick errand. Call me when you wake up.
I took some chicken breasts out of the freezer and tossed them into the sink. The kids never did get their bath. I jogged across the back yard to the Prayer Garden. Someone beat me to it.
My mother-in-law was on her knees, and oblivious to my approach.
“Mom? Everything OK?” I sprinted up the few steps into the gazebo.
She looked up, wiped away tears with her hands, and then sat up on the bench. “Oh, hey, Scott.”
I sat down next to her and took her hand. “You’re not worried about Bailey, too, are you?”
“Of course I am. My child is hurting, and trying to take on Brenna too is a bit much, don’t you think?” She shook her head and let out a ‘whew’.
“She is pretty exhausted and emotional. I agree that it’s the right thing to do, but the timing couldn’t be worse.”
“Which is what I’ve been praying about. I think I have a solution.” She squeezed my hand.
“I’m all ears.”
“What if Brenna came home to Toppy and I? She could still be a part of Bailey’s life, and it would give Bailey time to heal, and get used to mothering.” She laid her head on my shoulder.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. She wanted to take in the child of her ex-husband.
“I know what you’re thinking. Toppy asked the same question. But she’s a child, and she’s Bailey’s sister. That’s all that matters.” She stood up and paced back and forth in front of me.
“What does Uncle Toppy think of this arrangement?”
“He’s very supportive. I was just here praying, and making sure before I approached you two about it.”
“Wow. It would help. Still,” I began.
“I know. Brenna could still die. I can’t imagine what that would do to Bailey. But the thought of that sick child in the house when Bailey is so fragile. If everything was perfect, taking care of twins is still a challenge. At least with the responsibility of Brenna on our shoulders, she might get stronger, in mind and body.”
I didn’t know what to say. A little hope entered my heart.
“Is now a good time? Should I go to the house and talk to her about it?”
“We had a terrible night last night. She hasn’t slept. But all three were snoozing when I left just now. Maybe this evening?”
“Perfect, we’ll come and bring dinner.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. “A Social Services person came and evaluated the residence an hour ago. She said the home was “more than adequate”, but there was sheer chaos. Barbara, that was her name, said Bailey’s state of mind is a concern.”
“I can imagine. Do you think she’ll go for it?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll pray right now. I’ll see you and Toppy tonight.” I got on my knees as she left the gazebo.
God worked things out before I’d asked.
A quiet confidence settled over me, and I turned my prayers to Brenna.
22
I saw my mom at the front door before she knocked, and I beat her to it. “Mom!” I threw my arms around her as if I hadn’t seen her in forever. She seemed to know just how badly I needed her at that very moment. I’d tried to come to terms with the fact that the powers that be would likely never let Brenna come home to me. It was probably best, but it broke my heart. What would become of Brenna?
She gave me a good, long, loving hug. “How are you tonight?” she asked.
Toppy came in the door behind her carrying a casserole dish and a grocery bag.
I didn’t answer that question. I hated how all this upheaval had rearranged the lives of all our loved ones. I’m not doing that great.
“Yum, that smells fantastic.” Scott came in from the kitchen.
“Lasagna,” said Toppy. “Complete with garlic bread, salad, and chocolate pie.” He kept right on walking past us toward the kitchen.
Scott followed him.
“Let the boys get our dinner ready, Bailey. Where are the twins?” She took my hand and led me to the couch.
I snuggled up to her. “Snoozing their third nap today. Which probably means they won’t sleep tonight. I’ll get them up in a bit and we’ll see if we can’t keep them awake for a few hours.” I laid my head on her shoulder.
“Let’s try and get through dinner first. I want to talk to you about something.” She patted my leg.
Did they already know the answer from Social Services? Had Scott called in reinforcements to soften the blow? I couldn’t stop the tears.
“Bailey, don’t think the worst. We have a plan, that’s all.” Mom put her arm around me.
“A plan? What do you mean?” I sat straight up and grabbed her by both shoulders.
Her eyes widened at my response. “Maybe we should eat first. I know you had a rough night and a long day.”
“I don’t think I could eat. What’s up, Mom?” Every muscle in my arms tingled, and I felt slightly light headed. I hadn’t really eaten all day, just grabbed food here and there.
“Well, Toppy and I thought it might help if we took Brenna. That way she could be near family, and see you whenever she wants. That would make things a little less stressful for you while you’ve got newborns.” She smiled warmly, but her eyes looked a little strained, as though she thought I’d balk at the idea.
I blinked in disbelief and then leaned back against the couch. “I can’t wrap my brain around this, Mom. You’d take in Kevin Brown’s daughter? Toppy is OK with this?” I shook my head and tried to clear the fog from my brain.
“You are also Kevin Brown’s daughter. She’s your sister, and that’s reason enough to welcome her. Bailey, even if they ultimately allow her to come home to you, I’m just not sure it’s good for you right now. Surely you can see that?” She put her arm around me again.
I could see it all right. I couldn’t be trusted with Brenna in my state of mind, and likely they thought I couldn’t even take care of my own babies. None of it was my fault. It’s not freakin’ fair. Even though I knew they were trying to help me to the point of great inconvenience on their part, the injustice of everything exploded all over me. An angry heat flash rushed up my face. I stood and stomped my foot like a child. I didn’t care. “It’s not my fault, Mom. None of it is my fault!”
Shock and tears sprang to my mother’s face, but I raged on.
“I didn’t ask for any of this. You all look at me like, ‘Poor, dear, she’s such a mess.” Well, who wouldn’t be? I didn’t kidnap myself. I didn’t shoot myself and leave a sick child
for someone else to take care of. It’s not my fault!”
“Bailey,” Mom started.
I put my hand up. “Don’t start. I can’t take this.” I spun to go to our room, but I didn’t want to wake the babies. No, I didn’t want to even see them. They’d gotten a raw deal for a mother.
Scott and Toppy came down the hall from the kitchen.
Scott came toward me, his worried face and tired eyes questioning me.
Dizziness weakened me. I could only see Scott’s face. Suddenly I saw him when we’d first met in the washout facility. I saw the same worry and weariness in those brilliant blue eyes that I’d seen that first day. His fatigue while caring for his father and all their business was now replaced by taking care of me. I’d not brought him the happiness he deserved.
Where are my car keys? I didn’t even know where my purse was. I just stood there, breathing hard and fuming.
Mom rushed toward me, as well as Scott.
I backed toward the front door. Another heat flash burned my face. My foolish behavior embarrassed me, but I stood there like a statue.
“Whoa, everybody, just give her some room,” Toppy said, stepping into the middle of the fray, both hands up. He lowered his voice. “Sit down, please, Gwennie, and you too, Boy. Just everybody calm down.”
They obeyed, Mom crying and Scott’s face pale.
“OK, now, little lady, we all agree with you.” He crossed his arms and took a few steps back, but he stood directly in front of me.
“What do you mean?” I crossed my arms, too.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not. We totally agree with you. Not your fault, and no, you don’t deserve any of this,” Toppy said. He took a baby step toward me.
I dissolved into a trembling, crying mess. Toppy closed the gap between us and bear-hugged me. He led me to the couch and sat me down between my mom and Scott. Mom put her arm around me, and Scott took my hand. His eyes brimmed with tears.
“I’m sorry, Mom, really sorry.” I laid my head on her shoulder. “And Scott, I know this is probably way more than what you bargained for. Nothing but trouble. You don’t deserve this.”
He shook his head and released an exasperated grunt. “What will it take for you to know, really know, that I’ve got your back? Not because I have to, but because I want to.” He heaved a sigh.
“Honey, I’d be more worried if you weren’t having some difficulty with all this,” Mom said.
“But shouldn’t my faith put me in better stead than this? I’m floundering around as though I don’t even have any faith.” I snatched a tissue from the box on the coffee table.
Toppy knelt in front of me, and placed his hand on my cheek. “Where does it say you’ll do and feel all the right things all the time? Why do you think the scriptures say for us to hold one another up? Our Father knows that we need each other. It’s OK, Bailey, to be undone sometimes. Who wouldn’t be in your case?” He reached for my hands and gave them a squeeze, then sat on the recliner.
“You’re over thinking everything, sweetie,” Mom said.
“Exactly. You are lumping it all together in one package at any given moment. You’re trying to carry the load of years of wet diapers, feedings, laundry, and what have you, all in the same minute of every day,” Toppy said.
The truth of that statement settled on me. Way over thinking.
“Add to that the doctor’s appointments, prescriptions, and the possible death of your little sister whom you only just found out about,” he continued. “You might not even get to know her before she’s gone.”
“Uncle Toppy!” Scott scolded. “Please, it’s hard enough, as it is.”
“I know, but your wife doesn’t need to be coddled. She needs to deal with the very real possibility that Brenna might not make it. But all those things, diapers, sick child, the future possibilities don’t happen all at once. It’s one diaper at a time. Do you get me?”
One diaper at a time. I dried my tears. “You’re right, Toppy. I get you.”
“Mmmm, I don’t think you do.” He crossed his arms and squinted one eye at me.
The room went silent. He was as good a preacher as Pastor Jack.
“Frankly, sweetie, you’re acting as bad as Scott did last year when he got sick. His pride and ego wouldn’t let him accept help. Now, you’re in more or less the same position.”
Scott nodded and smirked, no doubt remembering what a pill he was last year.
“You have to let us help you. And you have to be OK with it. We want to do it because we love you, girl.” Toppy smiled. “We’ll get through this.”
Scott raised my hand to his face and kissed it. “We always do,” he said.
I looked at him, smiling at me. I understood the full extent of what he went through last year, and felt even more joined at the heart. I loved him even more. “I’ve been awful, I’m so sorry.” I covered my face.
A musical buzzing of “It’s OK, We love you, I love you, no problem,” came from my family.
Relief and joy bubbled up and laughter spilled out. I doubled over, laughing. I couldn’t stop.
“What’s so funny?” Scott asked.
“One,” I said, and then gasped for air, “diaper at a time!” A different kind of tears rolled down my cheeks.
They all joined in. Nervously at first, as if they thought I was totally losing it, and then with gusto. What a family!
We laughed so hard we barely heard the knock at the door.
“Oh,” I said when I heard it. “Someone’s at the door.”
Toppy stood to answer. He opened the door and stepped back.
Barbara Okeke stood in the doorway. Brenna peeked from behind her.
23
Brenna walked to Bailey.
Barbara stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
“Bailey! I get to stay with you, isn’t it great?” Brenna put both her arms around Bailey’s waist.
My wife’s eyes grew wide as she looked down at the child. “Why, uh, yes, it’s wonderful.”
I thought I heard an unspoken “I think.” Bailey looked like a deer in the headlights. So did everyone else in the room, probably me included.
Well, not everyone. Barbara looked calm and business like.
Everyone stood by this time.
“So this is the little lady,” Toppy said, breaking the awkward silence. “Nice to meet you. I’m Bailey’s,” he stopped, and looked at Bailey.
“He’s my dad. We all call him Toppy.” Bailey pulled Brenna from the hug and turned her toward her mother. “This is my Mom.”
Mom reached out her hand.
Brenna shook it. “What do I call you?” Brenna asked.
“How about Gwen, for now,” Mom answered, smiling.
Brenna nodded.
“Of course, you know Scott,” Bailey said.
Brenna turned toward me. “Yes!”
I scooped her up in my arms. “You hungry?”
“Not really. Unless you have some cookies,” Brenna said.
“Cookies we got, little lady. Let’s go in the kitchen and we’ll find them. Bailey makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the world,” Toppy said. He took her from my arms and they went down the hall to the kitchen.
“While we have a minute to talk, I want to lay this out for you. This is happening because your mother offered to be the primary care giver in this situation,” Barbara said, pulling a clipboard from her large purse.
“You already talked to them?” Bailey asked, looking at her mom.
“Yes, sweetie, I was trying to tell you earlier tonight, but,” she said, and bit her bottom lip.
Bailey just grinned. “Thank you, Mom.”
That was my girl, trying to accept help. I hoped it would last. “But how will you do this, Mom? Your job?” I asked.
“I took a leave of absence. I have plenty of vacation time coming. It’s no trouble at all.”
“Your mother has agreed to stay here in your home for a time. We thought it best since Brenna
doesn’t yet know the McPhersons, and she wants so badly to be with you, Bailey.”
Barbara, Bailey, and Mom continued the discussion, but it faded from my hearing. An overwhelming sense of gratitude enveloped me. I felt for the first time that everything would be all right. Thank you, Father. Now, Lord, please bring my Bailey back to me. Please heal this awful tragedy from her heart and memory. I know it’s selfish of me, but I want her back. She’s so distant. My ears focused back on the conversation.
“Bailey, she needs to be told that you’re her sister. I recommend giving it a little time. Let her get used to being here. Because when that comes up, the news about her father will follow. She’s already lost her grandmother. I suggest perhaps engaging a counselor to help with that. We have some on staff, if you don’t have your own,” Barbara said.
“I have a good one. Michele Hanover.” Bailey said. Her voice seemed normal, but her eyes seemed far off.
I knew she worried about the whole sister thing.
“All right, then. I’m glad we’ve come to this point. Let me just get her things from my car, and I’ll be on my way.” Barbara stood.
“I’ll get them. Is it locked?” I headed toward the door.
Barbara pulled her keys from her purse and pushed the unlock button. She smiled at me.
I gathered a small suitcase and a box of random things from the back seat and brought them into the house. As I sat them on the floor inside the door, I noticed Barbara’s shoes.
“Oh, your shoes look no worse for the water damage. Was it expensive? You should let me reimburse you.”
“Not at all, just took a brush to them after they dried out. That reminds me,” she said, pulling a card from her purse. “Here’s the number of a laundry service in town. It would be a great gift for your wife, and would make things a lot easier for you both. They’ll pick up and deliver.”
I laughed. Her professional manner dropped a bit, and I saw a helpful, good-natured soul.
“Thanks, Barbara. I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”
“Best of luck to you. I really hope it all works out.” She headed for the door.
“Luck has nothing to do with it, but thank you very much,” I said. “We’re blessed.” Gratitude overcame me, and I closed the door before she could see my tears. I went into the kitchen where everyone was eating cookies.