Huntington Family Series

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  New Year’s Day dawned cold and crisp, and that evening Blake once again found himself with Amanda at Kerrianne’s house. They sat together on the couch in the family room while Misty and Benjamin played in the middle of the room with their new Christmas toys. Despite the noise coming from his siblings, baby Caleb slept soundly in his car seat nearby.

  Amanda was thumbing through the fourth volume in the set of children’s books Blake had bought her for Christmas. “What are you thinking about so deeply?” she asked him, tilting her head to the side in the way that he had grown to love. “I’ve asked you a question three times, and you haven’t heard me once.”

  “I’m thinking of hiring a private investigator,” he admitted, pulling his attention back to the room. “I have to know they’re okay. Paula has to at least let me see them.”

  Amanda placed her hand on his. “Let’s see what Erika comes up with. She has a lot of contacts, and it’s only been a few days.”

  “Paula didn’t show up for her test this week,” he reminded Amanda. “Or her counseling session. I’m afraid she’s moved out of the state.” He rubbed his thumb over his right eye, blotting the moisture.

  “Maybe you’re right—maybe we should hire someone.” She bit her bottom lip. “You know, I could go see the woman Paula was living with, get a list of her friends. Someone will know where she is. Then I’ll go see her myself. I don’t think she’d mind. I’m used to dealing with the parents of the children in my class, and I might be able to get somewhere with her. Even if it’s only to let us visit the children there.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  Deep down, though, Blake had a horrible fear that Paula had gone away somewhere—maybe California, as her roommate had suggested—and he’d never see the children again. He wouldn’t watch them growing up, wouldn’t be able to tell them that the life their mother lived wasn’t normal. He wouldn’t be able to teach them the gospel or about Jesus. To teach them to work and pull their own weight.

  His chest felt tight with emotion. It’s not fair! his heart shouted. It wasn’t fair that Paula should thrust the children on him long enough for him to really love them—and then rip them away. He knew he’d have his own one day, hopefully his and Amanda’s, but what about Kevin and Mara? The uncertainty evoked a terrible, helpless desperation that threatened to consume him.

  “My aunt’s right, you know,” he said softly.

  “Right about what?”

  “What she said to me on the phone this morning. Paula should have given them up for adoption. Better not to have known them than to have them in danger like this. They deserve a good family.”

  Amanda hugged him, and Blake clung to her until his desperation faded to a size he could better handle. “Come on,” she said at last. “Let’s put these kids to bed for Kerrianne. Then we’ll call Mitch over to baby-sit while we take her out for an ice cream cone. It’s not too late, yet. Things should be open. That will cheer you both up.”

  Blake pulled her closer for a kiss. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” he asked.

  “You have,” she said, her tone light, “but I am beginning to wonder if you really mean it.”

  He blinked in confusion. Just when I thought I was getting this love thing right!

  Shaking her head, she jumped up from the couch. “Oh, don’t mind me. Come on, kids. Blake’s going to help you brush your teeth while I talk to your mother.”

  Blake stared after her.

  * * *

  Amanda went into the bedroom where Kerrianne sat on her bed staring blankly at the white wall. She turned toward Amanda as she entered, trying to mask the forlorn expression on her face.

  “Are you all right?” Amanda asked, her heart aching for her sister.

  Kerrianne nodded. “I just . . . well, I can’t remember what I came in here for.”

  “You were going to show us that brochure of community education classes.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Kerrianne scooted over on the bed and reached for the top drawer in the night stand. Her hand stopped short of the knob.

  “It’s okay, Kerrianne. You can show us tomorrow.”

  Kerrianne didn’t seem to hear. “This is his night stand,” she said. “We bought matching ones right before Benjamin was born. Mine’s over there on the other side because that’s where I always put the baby bassinet when I start to need one. At about six months or so. Of course, I won’t need a bassinet now because the bed’s plenty big without Adam. Caleb can keep sleeping with me. Anyway, this is Adam’s night stand. I’ve been using the top drawer. He never had much to put in it anyway. Just his scriptures and lesson manual. I’m not sure what to do with the manual.” She looked at Amanda, her eyes glazed. “Do you think they’ll ask me for it?”

  Amanda shook her head. “I’ll take it—if you want.” She had helped Kerrianne clean out and put away most of Adam’s things during the past weeks.

  Kerrianne considered her offer a moment before shaking her head. “No. He was looking at it the night before . . . I want to keep it for a while.”

  “Of course. Keep it.”

  Kerrianne pulled her feet onto the bed and pushed herself back until she rested against the headboard. “I’m always so tired, Manda.”

  Amanda sat on the bed next to her sister, and Kerrianne slid over to allow her more room. “It’ll pass, Kerrianne,” Amanda said. “It’s okay to be tired. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “I never thought I would be without Adam. Never. It’s so soon. We hardly had any time at all.” Kerrianne didn’t look at her as she spoke but at the quilt on the bed.

  “You loved each other,” Amanda said.

  “Yes, and I’ll see him again.” Kerrianne swallowed hard. “Sometimes forever just seems so far away.”

  “I know,” Amanda whispered, placing her arms around her sister. Kerrianne clung to her arms with both hands. For a long moment neither woman spoke.

  “Blake and I were thinking about taking you out for ice cream,” Amanda said at last. “We’ll put the kids to bed first. Mitch can watch them. We won’t be long. We know you have church early tomorrow.”

  Kerrianne shook her head. “Not tonight, Manda. I appreciate the offer, though, and I think you and Blake should still go.”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

  Kerrianne’s eyes as they met Amanda’s were full of tears, but she smiled. “I’m not alone. Even when I’m physically alone, I’ve never really been alone since Adam died. It’s been so hard and so awful, but there is peace, too. I know where Adam is. I know his heart is here with me. And so is my Savior.”

  Amanda began to cry, and this time it was Kerrianne who embraced her.

  “I want so badly to help you,” Amanda whispered. “What can I do?”

  “Well, you can bring me another large slab of that cooking chocolate I always keep in the freezer for emergency cravings. I’ve eaten practically all of it.” Kerrianne uttered a sound that might have been a very small, strangled chuckle. Then she sobered again. “Besides that, you can do just exactly what you’ve been doing. Be here a little each day, play with the children, talk to me about Adam—it helps to talk about him when I miss him so much.”

  Amanda nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks, but Kerrianne wasn’t finished. “And you can be happy, Manda. I want you to be happy with Blake. That’s what you can do for me. You can love him and do all the things for him that I would have done for Adam if I had known he was . . .” She trailed off and took a deep breath. “Seeing you happy makes me feel better.”

  Amanda knew her sister’s heart was much larger than her own. So many times over the past few years she’d felt envy for the life her sister had led, but now the situation was reversed, Kerrianne did not seem to hold any envy or begrudge Amanda her happiness.

  “I love you, Kerrianne,” Amanda whispered.

  “I love you, too.” Kerrianne drew away. “Now, go. Send in my babies. I want to snuggle with them while they go to sleep. I have a tap
e here of Adam’s songs I thought I’d play for them. And you go out with that man of yours.”

  “Okay, I will,” Amanda agreed. “Maybe being alone with him will remind him that we do have a future to think about.”

  “He knows that.”

  “Does he? I don’t know. I’m about ready to start giving him jewelry ads. I would, too, if he had any taste for that sort of thing.” Amanda rolled her eyes as she got off the bed. “You should have seen a few of the wedding sets he pointed out to Mom when she showed him those ads at Christmas. They looked like clearance leftovers from eight years ago.”

  To Amanda’s delight, Kerrianne actually laughed—a real laugh this time. “I did see, Manda, and it was hilarious. But are you sure he wasn’t just joking around?”

  Amanda shook her head. “Nope. He was serious.” She backed toward the door. “I’ll bring Caleb in. He’ll be hungry if he’s awake.”

  “Thanks,” Kerrianne called after her.

  A short time later, Amanda and Blake left the children snuggled with their mother in her queen-sized bed, the strains of Adam’s music following them out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mara was asleep on the worn couch. She wore the shirt she’d had on the day before, but someone had at least pulled a blanket over her during the night. Even from where Paula lay on the floor, she could see the angelic face was streaked with dried tears. Her brown flyaway hair shot in every direction.

  The clock on the wall read after one. Happy New Year, Paula told herself. She stretched on her blanket, feeling the ache in her neck that came from not using a pillow. Like it or not, she was getting old.

  “Mara needs a diaper when her gets up.”

  Paula moved her head carefully, wincing at the pain from her hangover. Kevin stood by the couch, his small insect sticker book in one hand, the other pointing at a used diaper on the floor, one that Paula could smell from across the room.

  “Yuck,” she said. “Did you take off her diaper yourself?”

  He shrugged. “Mara was crying. Her bum gets red if it stays on too long. But I couldn’t get another diaper on. Her wiggles too much.”

  Paula felt a pressure building in her chest—a bruising pressure as painful as the ache in her head. “Oh, Kevin,” she said, hauling her reluctant body past various plastic sacks, several beer and pop cans, and other party discards until she reached his side. She didn’t try to stand—for the moment just sitting there took all the effort she could muster.

  “I washed my hands.” He pointed to the part of the kitchen they could see from the front room. Sure enough, there was a stool by the sink. “I got some on me. It was gross.”

  “I’m sorry. You should have woken me up.”

  “I tried once, but I didn’t want you to yell like last night.”

  “Yell?”

  He nodded slowly, staring at her with a carefully blank expression that hurt Paula to see. What had she done last night? She couldn’t remember any of it. There had been a lot of people over, she knew. Her friends and friends of Loony. She remembered something about going outside and catching snowflakes on their tongues. It was then she made the decision to move to California. The idea had freed her—though this morning moving seemed more like a burden.

  Kevin sat down on the edge of the couch, next to Mara, who moved in her sleep but didn’t wake. The book in his hands opened.

  Paula thought about putting a diaper on Mara but decided to wait until she awoke. Loony’s couch had seen worse. “Are you hungry?” she asked Kevin. Her own stomach was growling.

  He turned a page and didn’t reply.

  Then she remembered there wasn’t any food in the house, since what little they’d bought had been devoured by their guests last night. Kevin had probably eaten whatever remains he could find while she was sleeping.

  “Hey, honey, I know what we can do,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm. “We’ll go to the store. I’ll buy you some peanut butter crackers.”

  She thought the mention of those would have sent him jumping for joy—it would have once—but now he just looked at her steadily. “Okay, but Mara needs more milk. And other stuff. Her doesn’t like crackers much.”

  “I thought we still had some formula left. At least enough for a bottle or two.” Paula spied an empty bottle then on the couch by Mara, and she could see the formula can on the counter in the kitchen. She forced herself to her feet and took a few wobbling steps in that direction, seeing spilled powder on the counter. Apparently, Kevin had taken care of his sister while their mother slept off the result of her choices last night.

  I slept while he paid the price. The thought cut deep into her heart.

  Stumbling back to the couch, she put her hand out to steady herself on the armrest, her head pounding painfully and making it hard to concentrate.

  Kevin looked up at her, his face frozen. She’d seen this look before during the supervised visits. In fact, if she told the truth, this very expression on her son’s face was the reason she had missed the last two visits before the custody hearing. Yes, she’d had car trouble, but that was earlier in the morning, and besides, a friend had offered her a ride. Still, she hadn’t gone, unable to bear seeing this solemn expression. Her hand itched to slap it from his face.

  Before she could act, the look in his eyes changed, becoming one of pleading—a desperate pleading that wounded her heart. Soon the pleading faded, followed quickly by a sharp, biting hurt that emanated clearly from those innocent blue eyes. Then his face turned dark, sullen, and angry. As his expression filtered through these changes, the size and shape of his face had also altered. He was older now as Paula stared at him. Years older.

  This is what he’ll become! she thought. Her breath caught in her throat.

  This was how her precious son would stare at her in future years. This was the boy she would disappoint by her failures. The boy who would lose his innocence, who would grow up in a world that had no security and guidance. He wouldn’t have the Church as a guide as she’d had growing up—though in the end she’d chosen to ignore it. He wouldn’t have Blake to steady him. He wouldn’t learn about morals, respect, or Jesus.

  Haven’t I even taught him about Jesus? The clarity of this thought was an agony in her soul. If he knew anything of Jesus, it was because Blake had taught him. It should have been me, she thought.

  Yes, here Kevin was, all grown and staring defiantly at her, looking exactly like the teenage children of her friends. Children who were unable to hold down jobs, who spent time in jail, or were beginning broken families of their own that would perpetuate the cycle.

  She had never wanted that life for her children. Never. She didn’t want them to experience her pain. Paula shook her head, staring at this boy she knew was hers—and yet who couldn’t possibly be. No child of hers would have that bleak pain in his eyes, would he?

  Oh, what have I done?

  More than four years ago, she had ignored all counsel and kept Kevin instead of giving him up for adoption. She loved him more than she had ever loved any other person in her entire life. How could she have given him away? Yet if she had, her precious boy wouldn’t be looking up at her right now with that terrible weight in his old-man eyes, clutching the sticker book that was his constant companion, as though it was his only link to safety and sanity.

  With a little gasp, Paula turned on her heel and ran from him.

  Blindly, she fled into the bedroom where Loony had let her and the children stay for the past week. She fell to her knees by the mattress on the floor that the three of them shared as a bed. She’d promised the judge she’d do what was right for her children. She hadn’t been lying at the time. She really wanted the best for Kevin and Mara. But what was right? She wasn’t sure she even knew.

  Oh, dear God, she prayed silently. What have I done? What have I done? Please help me!

  Much, much later, after her swollen eyes could cry no more tears, she came out of her room to find Kevin and a diaperless Mara on t
he couch looking at the insects in his sticker book. Kevin was his four-year-old self again as he calmly glanced up at her. Next to him Mara looked tiny, and Paula wondered if she’d lost weight in the past weeks.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get Mara dressed and then help me put your things in the boxes in our room. We’re leaving.”

  “To the store?” His expression was wary.

  “Yes, but then we’re going far away from here. A new life. You’ll see.”

  “We’re not coming back?” Kevin glanced around the room.

  “No.”

  He smiled. “Good. Mara doesn’t like it here.”

  He didn’t question her further about where they were going, as Paula thought a normal child would. Maybe he was too afraid of the answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Monday after work Amanda readied herself for Blake’s arrival. Since Kevin and Mara left, they’d spent most of their time together at her place or at Kerrianne’s, but tonight he wanted to make a special dinner for her. Anticipation filled Amanda’s heart. She would be lying if she said she didn’t hope he would finally propose. They had to go on, even if the children weren’t in their lives.

  She had a surprise for him, too. Right now it was looking at her with large brown eyes from the large cardboard box Mitch had brought from a grocery store. She felt bad about leaving it home alone—even with a hot water bottle and a cloth-covered ticking alarm clock for company—but she wasn’t willing to share Blake for the next hour at least.

  Blake arrived on her doorstep, looking happier than usual, his face freshly shaved. Even his unruly hair had been slicked down with water. Amanda gave him a hug and kiss, her hand stealing up to fluff the top of his hair the way she liked it best.

  He laughed. “You look nice,” he said, glancing over her flowing crinkle skirt and matching blouse.