Shara's Happy New-foundland Year

by Tamie Dearen

  Minutes later Shara was back on the table with cold gel smeared all over her already freezing belly.

  “Okay,” said Dr. Garcia, pressing a smooth, rounded instrument against her skin. “Let’s see if we can find this shy girl.”

  “Do you think it’s a girl?”

  Her mouth quirked up on one side. “No, I randomly call them girls or boys until we find out the sex. I don’t like calling a baby it.”

  The instrument moved from one side to the other, sliding across her belly. The sound of static filled the room.

  “Do you hear anything?” Shara knew the answer. It was written on Dr. Garcia’s face. Disappointment. No heartbeat. Only static. Her baby was dead. Or it had never been there in the first place.

  “There!” Dr. Garcia’s chin tilted. “Do you hear it?”

  The instrument pressed harder. Over the sound of static came a low, but definite, pulsing sound... thumpa, thumpa, thumpa, thumpa...”

  “Is that it?” Tears rushed to her eyes. “That’s my baby? She’s alive?”

  “He’s alive.” Dr. Garcia’s lips spread in a smile so wide Shara saw every single tooth. “And we’re going to keep him that way.”

  BACK AT THE DENTAL office, Shara stayed late to finish up the tasks she missed during her morning doctor’s appointment. Still floating from hearing the baby’s heartbeat, she picked up her cup and poured some more ice into her mouth. She hummed a little tune as she reconciled the deposits for the day, one of her favorite jobs. She’d always excelled in math at school, but her father had told her that liking math was boyish, the cardinal sin for a girl in his book. She’d spent her entire life attempting to be girlish enough to make her father proud of her.

  James, however, seemed to like her exactly as she was. And, unlike every other guy she ever dated, he acted more interested in her as a person than what he could do with her body. She’d put him up on a pedestal, so when he fell off, it was a long drop. But in her heart, she knew he was still the best guy she’d ever dated. They might’ve had a chance, if it weren’t for the baby.

  The problem now was she needed more than a boyfriend. She needed James to commit or she wanted him out of her life. Yet once he found out about the baby, there was a 99% chance he would ask her to marry him. She could have her dream, but it would only be a mirage, not the real thing. He would make a commitment based on obligation and, like every other marriage she’d observed under such circumstances, the marriage would ultimately fail.

  She shook the depressing thought from her head. Tonight, she wouldn’t worry about all that. Tonight, she would go out on another romantic date with James and pretend she didn’t have a new life growing inside her, preparing to distort her body to epic proportions. She’d forget all about the baby and health issues and counseling and money problems. She would simply enjoy her evening with James, knowing it might be one of the last times it could happen.

  The entrance door jingled and Shara looked up, wondering if James had come early. He’d arranged to pick her up from work today, stating he wanted her as long as possible. Anticipating his arrival, she’d already freshened her makeup, adding more concealer to disguise the dark circles under her eyes.

  With an excited grin already stretching her cheeks, she waited for him to appear at the window.

  “Hey, baby!”

  “Dad.” Someone threw a bucket of cold water on her, washing her joy away. “Why do you keep coming here? I told you to stay away.”

  “That’s no way to speak to your father. Where’s your respect? You could at least ask how I’m doing. Talk like a civil person.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. How are you today?”

  “Doing well, thank you. Except for being all alone in the world, without any family. My only daughter never comes to visit and refuses to give me her new phone number.”

  “That’s not true, Dad. You have my number, but I blocked it on my phone because you’re overbearing and controlling.”

  “Don’t get mouthy with me.”

  “Dad, I’m expecting someone. Could we get this over with so you can leave?” She dug in her purse and extracted her wallet. A quick search only turned up a ten-dollar bill. “Here. Take it. It’s all I’ve got.”

  “Today’s payday, right? We could go cash your check now and you could invest in the franchise. I really want you to be a part of it. If you take a little off at the first of the month, you’ll never miss it.”

  “Okay, Dad... it’s creepy you know this is my payday. But all my paychecks are deposited directly into my account.” She held up her hand when he tried to interrupt. “And I don’t have an ATM card, either.”

  “You don’t have to explain.” He pushed his lower lip out and gazed at her with sad brown eyes that reminded her of Fezzik. “If you don’t want to be a part of the best thing that ever happened to me, just say so.”

  “Fine. I don’t want to be a part of it. And by the way, how do you think it makes your only daughter feel when you announce a business venture is the best thing that ever happened to you? Not that I would’ve believed it if you’d said I was the best thing.”

  “You’re twisting my words around again. You always do that. You’ve been too smart for your own good since the day you learned to say Dada.”

  “We’re done here.”

  “Not yet. You haven’t met Mack.” He waved to the side. “Hey, Mack. Come on over here and meet my daughter. Don’t worry. She’s only mouthy to me. She won’t disrespect you. I trained her right.”

  A face moved beside her father—dark eyes and dark hair, wearing a sheepish half-grin that begged a wordless apology. He lifted his hand. “Hi. Sam McDonald. My friends call me Mack. I’m sorry we bothered you at work.” He rolled his eyes.

  Shara’s jaw dropped. Literally dropped open. The guy was totally normal looking. Attractive even. Poor guy. She wondered how her dad got his hooks into him.

  “No big deal. Nice to meet you, Mack.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw her father stick a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

  “Dad! Stop it! You know you can’t smoke in here. You’re going to make me lose my job.”

  He spat out a word that made Shara flinch with embarrassment, and Mack mouthed, “I’m sorry,” as if it were his fault her father was so crass.

  “Fine! I’ll go smoke outside and freeze my butt off.” He stomped his feet on the tile floor, dinging the bell as he slammed the door behind him.

  “I apologize for my father. He’s...” She stopped, having no idea how to continue.

  “He’s an interesting character,” Mack supplied, his deep brown eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled.

  “I’m not sure I would’ve used such a kind description, but I suppose that’s accurate. Do you mind if I ask how you know him?”

  “I sold him an insurance policy for his car. I came here under the impression you were desperately seeking coverage for your vehicle.” He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a business card, handing it through the window. “I’m guessing you already have a policy?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She glanced at the card and placed it on the counter. “You can give me a quote, though. I’m always open to a better deal.”

  “Speaking of deals...” Mack leaned through the window, resting his arms on the counter. “What can you tell me about your dad’s franchise? He’s been trying to talk me into an investment, but I’m a little skeptical.”

  “To be honest, I have no idea. It’s possible it’s an amazing opportunity, like he claims. His track record doesn’t inspire confidence, though.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I suspected.” His head drooped.

  “A word of warning... I imagine Dad brought you over here, hoping to fix us up on a date.”

  “A date? I’m married.” He stuck out his left hand, the ring finger bare. “Where’s my ring? I must’ve left it home today.” Blood rushed into his cheeks. “I hope I haven’t lost it, but that wo
uldn’t surprise me after the day I’ve had. Actually, my whole week was a bust.”

  She heard his voice crack. “Mack? Are you okay?”

  He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I’m falling apart in front of a total stranger.” When his hands came down, tears streaked his face. “My wife was pregnant, and yesterday we found out we lost the baby. This is our second miscarriage. She was only nine weeks along, so we hadn’t told anybody. But it’s almost worse, because now we’re sad and we have to be sad all alone.”

  Nine weeks! The same as me! A whole slew of emotions swirled in her brain, including panic and anxiety, but sympathy won out. “I’m so sorry. I could pray for you, if you want.” Where did that come from? I don’t even know how to pray for me, much less someone else.

  “You’re a miracle!” His eyes grew wide as a radiant smile broke out on his tear-streaked face. “You won’t believe this, but on the way over here, I told God I couldn’t do this on my own anymore. Mandy doesn’t want to tell our friends in our small group, but I do. I’m tired of feeling so alone. And now, out of the blue, you volunteer to pray for us. That’s a miracle! I mean, I didn’t even know you were a believer, and I sure wasn’t planning to spill my guts to someone I just met. That’s not like me at all.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t normally volunteer to pray for people, either.” Shara stomach felt like someone dropped a boulder in it. This guy had it totally wrong if he thought she was someone sent from God. “Not that I won’t do it, but I’m probably not very good at praying. I’m kind of new at the whole Christian thing.”

  “That’s even more crazy. Too much to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “I agree.” Her rapid heartbeat confirmed the feeling.

  “Would you mind if we prayed right now?”

  “Like, out loud?” she squeaked.

  He nodded vigorously. “Can I come around through the door and sit by you? And do you mind if I get my wife on the phone?”

  “Uh... sure... You remember the part where I said I’m not good at praying? I’ve never done it out loud, before.”

  “That’s okay.” His muffled voice filtered through the wall as he walked around to join her in the desk area, the phone already to his ear. “Honey, God sent someone to pray for us today. It’s a long story, but she’s sitting right here, ready to pray.”

  “Yeah, I know. Me, too.” He covered the phone with his hand, blinking fast. “She’s crying. We’ve both been doing that a lot lately. We’ve been trying to have a baby for over a year now. If you don’t mind, would you mention that when you pray?”

  Shara’s tongue was so thick she felt certain she would soon choke to death. “I can try,” she rasped.

  Mack sat down facing her, his knees touching hers. Laid out in his lap, his phone screen displayed a young woman with tears streaming down her face. Shara was also crying, a rather common occurrence lately, and one she hoped would end soon, along with morning sickness.

  “Go ahead and pray,” Mack encouraged, with a weak smile. “It doesn’t have to be fancy.”

  She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut, praying God would help her pray. The idea struck her as funny, and she barely stifled a laugh. Folding her hands together to stop them from shaking, she took a few slow breaths and started. “Okay. Uhmm... Dear God, I’m praying for Mack and... What’s your wife’s name?” she whispered without opening her eyes.

  “Mandy. Oh, and I think God knows me better as Sam.”

  “Okay.” She gulped air. “Dear God, I’m praying for Sam and Mandy, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I’m hoping You kind of give a handicap to people who aren’t good at praying yet. Uhmm... Sam and Mandy lost their baby, and they’re both very sad. They feel really alone and that hurts a lot, too. Please help them not hurt so much. They both believe in You, and they want to have a baby really bad. They would be good parents—the kind who take their kids to church and teach them about Jesus. So please let them have a baby. Amen.”

  She opened one eye. “Was that okay?”

  He nodded, lifting the phone to his ear and mumbling a mixture of words and sobs. “I love you, too. I’m coming home right now. Hang on a second.” He held the phone against his chest and turned to Shara, wiping his face on his sleeve. “I bet I’m the weirdest guy your dad ever introduced you to.”

  “You?” She huffed a bitter chuckle. “Not by a long shot.”

  She jumped as the front bell gave a loud jingle, followed by a slamming door. Her father must’ve finished his cigarette.

  JAMES PULLED INTO THE dental office lot expecting only Shara’s car, but two others were parked near the door. Maybe a late patient.

  As he walked toward the entrance, one of the car doors opened, and Ed stepped out, reeking of smoke. “Hey, James!” He threw his cigarette down and ground it with his shoe. “Have you thought any more about investing?”

  “What?” It took a few seconds before he remembered Ed’s crazy business. “Oh, are you asking about the massage service?”

  He almost felt bad for Ed, watching his face redden, his fingers clenching and unclenching.

  “James, do you have a hearing problem or a brain problem? Because I’ve tried to explain this to you a few million times.”

  “I doubt it was a million.”

  “A million, a thousand, whatever... It was a bunch of times. Either you’re not listening, or you’re about as dense as this cement I’m standing on.”

  “But you’re standing on concrete, not cement.”

  “Same difference,” Ed blustered, stomping his foot.

  “Not really—”

  “Enough! Here’s the franchise website.” Ed handed him a business card. “They explain everything on the website. You’ll see there’s no massage service.”

  Without a glance, James slipped it into his coat pocket and reached for the office door.

  “You probably shouldn’t go in there,” Ed said, in a singsong tone. “Shara and Mack are having a little conference.”

  “Mack?” His gut churned. I trust her. She would never cheat on me.

  Ed lifted his shoulders and turned his palms up in a gesture of helplessness. “He’s an insurance salesman.”

  “She’s buying insurance?”

  “I don’t think so.” Ed waggled his eyebrows. “You know, the two of you were broken up for a month or so, right? I’m sure you had a girl or two to tide you over.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Humph! Whatever you say.”

  James tried to ignore Ed’s prodding, yet he couldn’t help feeling suspicious. Shara had cut off all communication when they broke up, so it was possible she dated another man during that time. Though he would be heartbroken to learn of it, he couldn’t fault her for it. He’d hurt her badly, broken her trust. That pain might have driven her into the arms of another man. If so, James wouldn’t stop until he won her back.

  Last week when he kissed her, she couldn’t hide her feelings. Her passionate response to his restrained kiss left him shaking with the effort required to control his actions. In fact, he’d been considering making the leap, committing to marriage. But Gerard Holiday’s words haunted him. “Do you think Shara deserves the best possible husband? One who will love her the way Jesus loved the church? One who’s willing to lay down his life for her?” Of course she deserved someone like that and James knew he would never be good enough.

  Forcing his fisted fingers to relax, he reached for the door again. Hating himself for doubting Shara, he nonetheless entered quietly, easing the door open, careful to avoid ringing the bell. He heard Shara’s soft voice behind the wall. Stepping quietly, he approached the window at the front desk. Shara and another man sat knee to knee in opposing chairs, heads bowed, eyes closed, hands folded. Praying! Jealousy slammed through him, slicing his lungs. Shara was praying. With another man. The scene exuded more intimacy than if he’d caught her in a passionate kiss.

  James and Shara had n
ever prayed together. He wanted to pull the man aside and ask him how he got so close to Shara so quickly. He also wanted to slam his fist into the man’s face. It was a toss-up which he desired more. Instead, he backed all the way to the entry door, popped it open, and slammed it hard. A few seconds later, he again made his way to the window. This time Shara was waiting, her eyes wide open.

  “James. You’re here early.” Her face was flushed, and she pulled at the collar of her sweater as if it were choking her. Was that a sign of guilt?

  The praying man made his way from the desk to the waiting room, speaking on the phone in a low voice. He passed James as if he were invisible and continued out the front door.

  “Friendly fellow,” James quipped.

  She nodded, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “A friend of my father.”

  “Known him long?” He kept his voice casual, while watching her reaction.

  “Just met him.”

  Were it not for her father’s warning and the rosy blush on her cheeks, he would’ve believed her.

  “What was he doing back there with you?”

  “Uhmm... nothing.” She sucked her plump lower lip between her teeth. “He was...” Her face brightened. “He was selling me some insurance.” She reached onto the counter below the window and grabbed a business card, flashing it under James’ nose.

  He snatched if from her hand and read, “Sam McDonald, Independent Insurance Agent.” Adding the card to the other in his pocket, he turned to study Shara’s expression, trying to see what was going on inside her head. She was hiding her relationship with Sam McDonald, and that made him a threat. The fact she felt comfortable praying with him made him even more dangerous. Then the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He understood why Shara had such a difficult time holding anything inside her stomach. Her unstable digestive system often went haywire when she was nervous and stressed. And what could be more stressful than trying to choose between two men? One thing crystallized inside James’ mind... When Shara made her decision, he had to be certain she chose him.