Shara's Happy New-foundland Year

by Tamie Dearen

  He sank into a chair and dropped his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

  She sat beside him, trying to ignore her upset stomach. Now was not the time to deal with pregnancy nausea. Not while they were waiting to hear Fez’s fate.

  WERE IT NOT FOR THE ten cups of coffee James drank at the emergency clinic, he might’ve dozed off on the way home. Shara, however, was sound asleep, having refused to drink even a single sip of the life-saving brew. While they sat for an hour and a half, waiting to discover if Fezzik would live or die, James had a revelation... He was madly in love with that puppy. His blood pressure skyrocketed as he beat himself up for the careless mistakes that put the dog’s life at risk.

  Shara, on the other hand, had been a rock. Calm and caring, she fetched cup after cup of coffee and assured him Fez would be fine, while convincing him he bore no blame. She rubbed the tight muscles in his neck with surprising strength, considering her slim form. When nothing seemed to bring him comfort, she distracted him with fascinating stories from her childhood, carefully sterilized to paint her family in a flattering light. Had James not known better, he’d have thought her dad a stellar parent and Shara’s life as normal as his. Yet she spoke with such smooth confidence he wondered if she might have hidden the more painful parts of her life even from herself. Whatever the case, her stories did the job. He was so engrossed in one of her tales he jumped when the door opened and Fez bounded into the room, looking no worse for wear.

  Relieved that Fez would survive and armed with medicine and instructions, they made their way to the car, with Shara leaning against him for support. As they drove, Fez wriggled in Shara’s lap, blissfully unaware of what had transpired.

  Arriving at her apartment, James slipped out of the car and down the stairway to unlock her front door. He traced his steps back to heft Fezzik from Shara’s lap and carry him inside. Depositing the dog in his kennel, he returned to lift Shara from the car and kick the door closed. As he walked with her in his arms, her head against his shoulder, she hardly seemed to weigh anything. Once again he was struck by how much he loved her. He no longer had any doubts about his feelings. It was unfortunate Shara had no desire to hear it from his lips. Yet he felt certain, even with all her trust issues, she would eventually come to believe in him if he was patient.

  To that end, he’d also started going to church again. His first thought had been to attend so he could brag about it to Shara, hoping that might convince her to marry him. But he actually paid attention to the sermon for a change—something about letting God make you into a new person, the way a caterpillar turned into a butterfly. That lined up with what he knew of his brother’s life, because his transformation had been rather astonishing. The preacher went on to explain that it doesn’t happen when we try hard and work at being different. Rather, it happens when we give up control and let Christ change our minds. And the most encouraging part was what he said about grace, which is the love and mercy God gives us, even though we don’t deserve it. It made total sense that God didn’t want his children to earn His love, taking credit for what they’d done.

  With all that in mind, James had said a silent prayer, agreeing to give God control. It was too soon to see a big change, but he felt different already. He hadn’t told a soul about it yet, not even his brother, but thought he would know when the time was right.

  He carried her to her bed and tucked her under the covers, utterly pleased with himself. He pulled a business card out of his pocket, glancing at it before tucking it safely away again. He kept the card to remind himself to stay on top of his game. Though Sam wasn’t in the picture right now, he was still James’ closest competition. If James did something wrong, she might compare and think, “Sam wouldn’t have done that.” He gave himself a mental pat on the back. Surely Sam MacDonald had never taken such good care of her. This night he’d won the competition, leaving Sam in the dust.

  He hadn’t mentioned the upcoming interview with Weber and Weber, postponing the inevitable complications. Now he not only had to convince her to marry him, but also to leave everything behind and move with him to New York City. It was the chance of a lifetime, and he couldn’t afford to pass it up.

  What am I going to do if she turns me down again?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shara slammed her hand on top of the alarm clock, silencing the strident buzz. She rubbed her eyes, burning from lack of sleep. “No one should have to get up early on Christmas Day.”

  Recently, she’d been waking up all night long to use the restroom, having to go even more frequently than Fez. Each time, it seemed to take an hour of tossing and turning before she fell back asleep, only to have her bladder wake her once again.

  She splashed cold water on her face and blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes gave testimony to a rough night, but she was a master at applying makeup to cover her flaws. She had a tough day planned, but nothing compared to the stressful event she’d scheduled that evening.

  Thirty minutes later, she was dressed and ready to go. She loaded Fezzik and his kennel and headed to her father’s apartment. Her knocking roused her grumpy father from his sleep, despite having pre-arranged her start time.

  “Merry Christmas, Dad.” She planted a kiss on his stubbly cheek. “Go shave and get dressed. I’m sending you to the store.”

  She scrutinized her canvas, planning her budget makeover. Though a bit dated and dingy, he had a good-sized place. Shara knew an abundance of Christmas greenery would hide a multitude of defects. Her father needed to portray an appearance of success to impress his investors. Through the years, the few of his business ventures that had been profitable never experienced long-term success, due to his habit of drinking away the profits. If his partners had control of the money this time, he might actually make a go of it. If he failed, it wouldn’t be because she didn’t make an effort to help him, though she stopped short of allowing him to hit up her friends.

  She wrote out a shopping list, including the food for Christmas dinner. She’d brought empty Christmas gift bags and tissue paper to fill the space under the artificial tree. At least the tree looked okay, though it needed a few extra ornaments, which also went on the list. His most important purchase would be from the Christmas tree lot, where he could buy a small tree at a discount and get the attendant to cut off the branches to use in place of expensive garlands.

  Fezzik was happy to trot along at her feet and help with her cleaning duties. He thought the vacuum cleaner was his own special toy, and alternated between barking at it and pouncing on it as she ran it across the floors for probably the first time since the previous Christmas. With lots of bleach, she soon had the place looking and smelling clean.

  By then her father had returned from his shopping trip. With no time to defrost a turkey, she’d opted to make a ham instead. Nothing required a long baking time, and dinner wasn’t planned until five that afternoon. So Shara opted to finish the decorations first.

  A slight cramping in her abdomen reminded her to drink more water, so she filled up her bottle and carried it with her. She’d brought her own crackers and lemon wedges, though she didn’t usually need them after she’d been awake for a few hours. She’d been spotting a bit the last few days, but her doctor had told her that was likely with the presence of the fibroma. Fearing the nausea would return later with the assault of strong cooking odors, she nibbled on a granola bar and took her anti-nausea medication.

  A few hours later, she stepped back to survey her work, smiling in satisfaction at the cheery abundance of pine boughs accented with red ornaments, which drew attention away from the worn furniture. Soon the smell of Christmas dinner and pumpkin pie would fill the air, adding to the festive atmosphere.

  “Dad, do you want to open presents now?”

  He looked up from his usual spot, leaned back in his recliner, a beer in hand. Obviously caught off guard, he looked away, a telltale flush on his neck. “Didn’t know what you wanted f
or Christmas. Thought I’d give you some cash.”

  He dug in his pocket and extracted two wadded-up, twenty-dollar bills. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d saved two of the bills she’d given him at some point in time.

  “Thanks, Dad.” She kissed his now-smooth cheek, the reek of cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave lotion turning her stomach. “I might buy a new pair of boots.”

  A proud smile appeared, his teeth miraculously white and even. She supposed she could thank him for passing down his good teeth genes to her, the only thing of value she would ever inherit.

  “Here you go, Dad.” She snatched a gift bag from under the tree, the only one with more than tissue paper inside. “I bought you a new shirt. I thought you could wear it today, if you like it.”

  “This is great, Shara. I’ve been meaning to buy a few new ones.”

  “You need some. Most of your old ones have stains, like the one you’re wearing now.” Some slight yellow discoloration marred the light blue button-down, likely a mustard stain.

  He tucked his chin down to examine his shirt. “Looks okay to me, but I’ll put on the new one right before our guests come.”

  “You have four potential investors coming, right?”

  The corners of his mouth tugged down. “Got a text a minute ago. One guy canceled. Gave some lame excuse about having Christmas with his mother-in-law. But Joe Henderson is coming. Top-notch guy. Real smart. And you know one of the other people. Mack is coming. Bringing his wife. I didn’t even know he was married.”

  “I know, Dad. You can be so embarrassing sometimes. Can’t believe you tried to fix me up with a married man.”

  “It turned out okay.” He took another swig of beer. “After he talked to you, that’s when he decided he wanted to invest in the franchise.”

  Shara’s intestines tied themselves into knots. She hoped Sam and Mandy didn’t decide to risk their money based on her having prayed for them. She would feel awful if the business went belly-up and they lost their investment.

  She gave her dad the task of taking Fezzik for a walk, figuring it would do both of them a world of good, and set to work on dinner. Glad for the tasks occupying her morning, she hadn’t had time to think about James. What would it be like to be part of a normal family? To have a father and siblings who thought enough of you to buy a gift and wrap a present? To have a family you were never ashamed of? James had offered her that chance, and she’d turned it down. Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe she should’ve said yes and enjoyed the marriage as long as it lasted. If she was careful and never complained, she could probably keep James happy for quite a few years before he moved on to someone else.

  Before she decided to follow Jesus, the decision would’ve been simple. But her pastor had taught that God looks at the heart and knows if you’re acting with selfish motives. This situation was so complicated that every possible action could spring from selfishness. She had an impossibly long way to go before she could please God, and her pregnancy was a constant reminder of how she had failed.

  But Friday, when she had expressed her confusion to Noelle and begged that she not judge her too harshly, Noelle swore to Shara she was no better in God’s eyes. She said nobody is good enough for God. “Dirty rags” was the name God gives our attempts to be righteous. She said that’s why Jesus died for us. He was the perfect sacrifice. When we stand before God and He looks at us, He sees Christ instead, because we’re covered by the blood He shed on the cross.

  Shara argued that she was much worse than the average person. That she’d done things God couldn’t possibly forgive. She’d even broken a direct promise to God when she slept with James. Noelle’s answer was simple. “He forgives you because He loves you.”

  The next day, Noelle texted Shara the link to a song, When You Covered Me, and Shara had been listening to it ever since.

  “When I wake up in the morning

  And look into the mirror of my soul,

  Then I wonder.

  I wonder, why

  Would You love me?

  I have nothing to commend me,

  Only selfishness, I know,

  Nothing to offer.

  I wonder, why

  Shed Your blood for me?

  You took my filthy, dirty garment

  And made it pure and white and clean.

  You made a thing of beauty from ashes

  To show the glory of the King

  When You covered me.

  In the middle of a struggle,

  Where Your mercy overflows,

  Then I wonder.

  I wonder, why

  Would You care for me?

  There’s a longing here inside me

  Where Your beauty touched my soul,

  And I wonder.

  I wonder, why

  Are You there for me?

  You took my filthy, dirty garment

  And made it pure and white and clean.

  You made a thing of beauty from ashes

  To show the glory of the King,

  When You covered me,

  When You covered me.”

  As hope bloomed deep inside, she prayed God would forgive her and cover her with Jesus’ blood. She still wrestled with guilt about the whole thing, knowing she didn’t deserve it, but her heart felt a lot more peace than before.

  Unfortunately, God gave no guidance about the all-consuming question of whether or not to marry James. Instead, He’d only given a single strong impression, so intense she had no doubt of its origin. She had to tell James about the baby.

  She argued with God—recognizing afterward the futility of her efforts—that revealing her pregnancy would only confuse the marriage issue. Of course, God did not relent, confirming in her heart the constant advice of both Noelle and Dr. Madison. So tonight, she’d invited James to her apartment, intending to tell him the truth, no matter the consequences.

  “DINNER WAS WONDERFUL.” Mandy helped Shara carry the dishes to the sink.

  “I can get this, Mandy. You’re welcome to sit with Mack and listen to the whole spiel. I don’t want you guys getting into something unless you understand all the details.”

  “That’s okay. I’d rather talk to you than listen to the men. Mack’s taking notes, and we’re going to discuss it later, when we’re alone.”

  Her eyes got shiny, and Shara panicked, knowing if Mandy cried, she’d likely follow suit.

  “What did Mack get you for Christmas?” Shara asked, hoping to distract her from sad thoughts.

  “We were trying to be frugal, so we bought each other things for the nursery.” Mandy sniffed, fanning her face with her hand.

  “Oh... well... uhmm... I’m sure you’ll be able to use all that stuff, someday.”

  Mandy dug a tissue from her back pocket and dabbed her eyes. “I don’t even wear mascara these days. I cry so much I’d look like a raccoon all the time.”

  Shara nodded into the awkward silence. “I’m really sorry about the baby.”

  Mandy took a shuddery breath. “That day at the dental office, when you prayed with Mack and me... I think we might’ve given up on God if you hadn’t been there. I was so angry with Him, you know? Do you think that’s terrible? To be mad at God?”

  Shara felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Why were these people asking her questions about God? What was she supposed to do? Make up an answer?

  “I have to be truthful with you... I’m a brand new believer. I hardly know anything about God. I felt like a big phony when I was praying for you guys.” Surely God would send her to hell if she pretended to have real faith. She hoped her honesty would discourage Mandy from expecting more from her.

  Mandy’s lips curved up. “But that’s exactly what we needed at the time... honest prayer from someone without an agenda. You weren’t trying to tell us how we should feel or give us unwanted advice. That’s why I didn’t want to tell our friends at church. They meant well, but last time their prayers and advice made us feel guilty.”


  “Okay. If you say so.” Shara couldn’t imagine how she could offer anything of substance.

  “Would you be willing to pray for us again?” Mandy lifted a ragged fingernail to chew, averting her eyes.

  “I guess so.” Shara’s heart picked up speed like a rollercoaster.

  “Maybe this afternoon, before we leave?”

  Before she could answer, pain sliced through her abdomen, and she grabbed onto the counter for support as the room tipped on its side.

  “Shara? Are you okay?”

  She felt a hand under her elbow.

  “You don’t have to pray if you don’t want to.” Mandy’s voice sounded far away.

  Unable to speak, Shara stumbled toward the small half-bathroom, Mandy’s hand supporting her arm until she reached the doorway. As waves of nausea splashed across her, so also did the sharp cramps in her belly. The baby! I’m losing the baby. She bent over the sink and lost what little dinner she’d eaten.

  “Mandy,” she spoke between pants, her hands gripping the bathroom counter as she bent over in pain. “Can you get my cell phone?”

  “Sure? Where?”

  “Black purse. Kitchen counter. Outside pocket.”

  She turned around and pressed her back to the wall, sliding down until her bottom rested on the hard tile. Fezzik chose that moment to hop into her lap and offer face kisses. She folded her arm across her face to ward off his assault.

  “Here’s your phone, Shara.”

  The dog was plucked off her lap as the phone slid into her hand. Fumbling, she managed to find Dr. Garcia’s after-hours number and place a call with her answering service.

  She’s going to hate me for calling on Christmas Day. Maybe I can hold out until tomorrow.

  Mandy stood quietly by, but she overheard the conversation, enough to know Shara was pregnant. Shara was in too much pain to be embarrassed. Mandy’s hand touched her shoulder. “What can I do to help? Should I get your father?”