The Desire

by Gary Smalley

  “Oh my,” Marilyn said. “That’s awful.”

  “No,” Christina said. “That’s not awful. That’s what he says when he’s being nice. I can’t repeat what he says when he’s being awful.”

  “I wouldn’t give a guy like that two minutes, let alone two days,” Doug said.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Christina looked at Marilyn. “Tell the owner I’ll start whenever she wants me. Tomorrow even. I’ll just call my boss and tell him to call up one of those fifty people standing in line.”

  Marilyn was so excited, she hugged Christina in a full Mom-embrace. Michele noticed a slight delay in Christina returning the hug. But she did hug her back and kept telling her how thankful she was.

  Just then, Allan walked into the kitchen holding his cell phone. “Say, hon, just got a call from Ray. He was wondering if I could meet him for a quick cup of coffee. He said some big things are happening with the orphanage plan and wants to go over them with me. I guess he wants me to start working on them soon or something. Is that okay?”

  “You mean now? You’re going to meet him now?”

  “Well . . . yeah. If it’s okay. You know what’s gonna happen here. You guys’ll clean up like you always do, get the coffee on. Eat dessert a little while after that. I won’t be long. I’m too full for dessert anyway.”

  What could she say? She wasn’t okay? But she didn’t want to say it. He was right about the routine. But part of the routine was him being there with her, sitting next to her, drinking coffee at the table as everyone talked and joked around. She also wasn’t crazy about all this Korah orphanage stuff coming back into play. It had been so nice the last few days having the old Allan back. She could tell by the look in his eyes, he was already halfway down the road on his way to meet Ray.

  “So, is it okay?”

  “I guess,” she said, as unenthusiastically as she could.

  “Love you.” He pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

  25

  When Allan pulled up to the Starbucks in the River Oaks downtown area, he passed Ray’s car parked along the curb a few stores down. He found Ray sitting outside in the café area, tapping something into his iPad. Allan looked at Ray’s coffee cup and said, “Hey, Ray. I’ll get mine and be right there.” Ray looked up and waved.

  When Allan joined him, Ray set his tablet aside. “Just sending a quick reply back to Henok.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Extremely well.”

  “You sounded pretty excited on the phone,” Allan said.

  “Things are really starting to come together over there. A lot faster than I expected. Life getting back to normal for you?”

  “Mostly. Took me a little longer this time than usual.”

  “Korah?” Ray said.

  Allan nodded. “We were only there a couple of days, but I can’t get the images out of my head.”

  “Me neither.” Ray picked up his cup. “This time I don’t think we’re supposed to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I don’t think the Lord wants us to let this one go. That’s what usually happens on these short-term mission trips. You know how it is. We go over there, do some good for a few weeks. It messes with our minds a little, the whole culture shock thing. Coming face-to-face with the kind of suffering and poverty other people live with every day. Then we come back to the good ol’ U-S-of-A with a whole new sense of appreciation for everything God has given us. For a little while. Maybe we stop grumbling . . . for a little while. In a few weeks, the whole thing fades to the margins as real life kicks in and our routines take over.”

  Ray had pretty much summed up his experience after every other mission trip.

  “Once that happens,” Ray continued, “it’s pretty much out of sight, out of mind until the next time we go over there. If we go over there.”

  “But that’s not happening this time,” Allan said.

  “Not for me. Sounds like not for you either. And I’ve heard from all the other guys on the team. They’re experiencing the same thing. I think it’s seeing all those innocent kids, seeing what their life is like. The effect is so much more powerful.”

  “They were at the dump again today,” Allan said. “Another long day spent poking through all that garbage for something to eat.” A flash went through his mind of that young boy pulling a crumpled yogurt container out of his filthy white bag, swirling his finger around inside, licking it, then looking up at Allan with that satisfied smile. Ayana’s big beautiful eyes came to mind next. How had her day gone? Did she remember him? Then one more picture . . . the scene he had just left on Elderberry Lane. The Anderson clan sitting, yet again, around a large Sunday feast. Thankful, grateful to God. Their biggest concern was trying not to eat too much. All these images happened in seconds, followed by a strong desire to hold little Ayana again. To see her at that Sunday table, maybe sitting next to Tommy and Carly. Laughing, drinking, eating. Trying to learn good table manners, acting just like cousins.

  Cousins? Listen to him. But that’s how the thought came to him.

  “You’re there now, aren’t you?”

  Allan looked up.

  “It’s been happening to me too,” Ray said, “ever since I got home. Julie’s starting to get a little upset. Either her or one of the kids will say something that triggers a flashback, and I’ll just go back to Korah. Completely tune them out.”

  Allan shook his head. “It’s not good. I don’t want to sour Michele on this. I wish there was some way to involve her more, so that this wasn’t just my thing.” He took a sip of his latte. “What I really wish is that she’d come with me sometime.”

  “Then you’d both be staring off into oblivion, tuning each other out,” Ray said.

  Allan smiled. “Maybe. But at least we’d be doing it together.”

  “I think one way to cure this distracting stare is to do more than just think about it. We need to do something. That’s why I wanted to get with you today. That is, assuming you’re still willing to be point man on this thing.”

  Allan thought about some of his recent conversations with Michele. Was being the point man still a good idea? “I am, but I’m not sure I remember the details of what you had in mind.” What he did recall didn’t seem like it would be all that time-consuming.

  “I’m thinking of you being more like the project manager. You’re good at flowcharts and organizing things. I’ve been making some notes since we got home. I just sent them to you as an email attachment. It’s all the different things I can think of that need to be done for this orphanage plan to happen. Not things done by you, but by everybody, including me. I’ve also asked all the guys to start emailing you, not just me, with updates as we go. I’m mainly going to be working on the fund-raising side, which is already going way beyond my expectations.”

  “Really? What’s happened?” Allan knew that none of their great intentions would ever come about without solid funding.

  “For starters, Henok is really on top of things. I can tell he’s made this job one. He says the government over there is wide open to the idea. They want to see a proposal for the whole thing. The initial plans, the long-term goals, how we expect to pay for it. He told them this project probably won’t cost them a dime. He’s hoping to secure some local funding, but the majority of the money will come from churches here.”

  “And how’s that part going?”

  “That’s the other positive development. Joe got that video put together. I haven’t seen it yet. But he said it’s incredible. He’s going to upload it to YouTube, so all the churches represented by team members can get an idea of what we’re talking about. Our church elders are meeting this week. They’ve already agreed to put funding for this orphanage on the agenda, and I’m going to play the video for them at the meeting.”

  Allan sat forward in his chair. “They’ve already agreed to fund the orphanage?”

  “Not yet. They’ve agreed to evaluate it, see if we want to make it
a part of our mission budget this year and, if so, decide on how much. But I know once they hear what I have to say and watch this video, they’re going to get behind this thing. Part of the reason I need you to get working on this is to help us nail down the costs. Until we hammer out a game plan, we won’t know what kind of income we’ll need to keep up with expenses. But God’s really put faith in my heart that it’s all going to come together.”

  This was exciting news. Allan was so glad to hear that the elders were responding so positively to this. “I think you’re right. Once they see this video, how can they not want to help?”

  “So what do you think? You still willing to run point on this?”

  This definitely sounded doable. Ray was right; Allan was good at organizing things. He could do it in his spare time and not cut into his time with Michele much at all. Then a new thought . . . Michele had to see this video. It wouldn’t be as powerful as being there, but it would make it easier for her to grasp why all this was so important to him. Allan nodded. “Sure, Ray, I’ll do it.”

  Then he wondered if Ayana would show up anywhere on the video. He wanted to see her again. But even more, he wanted Michele to see her.

  26

  Christina was stuffed, which made the already bloated feeling she had just being seven months pregnant even worse. But she didn’t care. Nothing could take away the excitement she felt being moments away from getting the key to her new apartment.

  Her new apartment in River Oaks.

  What would her mother say if she saw her now, living in a place like this? One of the last things her mother did say when Christina left her in New York with her latest boyfriend was, “You go down to Florida and I guarantee you, you’ll be homeless or else a prostitute before you know it.” Always a source of encouragement, her mom. But Christina didn’t want to think about that now.

  She walked out of the main house into the backyard and stood under a shaded patio facing a gorgeous pool. The whole backyard was beautifully landscaped, like a scene out of a magazine. To the right was the cozy garage apartment. She remembered the living room had a nice view of the pool. Looking the way she did, she had serious doubts whether she’d be using it before the weather changed and it got too cold.

  Just to be able to see it every day would be something. To be able to walk outside in the morning, every morning, and see what she was seeing now. To walk across the lush green grass and onto the stone patio surrounding the pool and sip coffee at the wrought-iron table. It would even make decaf bearable. To enjoy the beautiful garden areas outlining the pool, the tall white fence and the garage. Marilyn had said Christina could work in the garden as often as she wanted.

  It was like a dream.

  “You ready?”

  She turned toward the voice. It was Doug. She hadn’t heard the door that led inside to the apartment steps open. “You mean to get my stuff upstairs?”

  “Yeah. Got my stuff all loaded into the car. I’m all yours.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice, she thought. No, stop. “We’ve got to go to the front of the house. My car’s parked in the street.”

  “I tell you what,” Doug said, “how about we switch? I’m heading back to school right after this. I’ll go pull my car around to the front of the house, and you drive yours into the open parking space in the garage. That way, I won’t have to walk so far carrying your boxes.”

  “That’s a great idea. But after you leave, how will I get my car in and out of the garage?”

  “I’m glad you mentioned that. I’ll talk to my dad. I think he has a spare garage door opener somewhere in the house. I’d give you mine, but it’s built into my rearview mirror. They just plugged in some kind of code to get it to recognize our door.”

  “Okay.” How exciting, her own garage door opener. Her car had never spent a night indoors. Of course, it hardly belonged next to the two cars in there now. But still . . . starting today, she would be parking her car in a garage.

  “So I’ll go move my Mazda now, and you go move your car.” Doug turned to head back inside. “But hey, if you see my dad in there, ask him about that door opener. Once I leave, you won’t be able to close the big door without it.”

  “I will.” She hurried back into the house. Tom, Jean, and the kids were upstairs. Michele and her mother were watching something on TV, looked like a Hallmark movie. She didn’t see Jim anywhere.

  When Marilyn looked up, Christina told her what they were doing, then asked, “Is Jim still here?”

  “He just laid down for a nap,” Marilyn said. “Why?”

  Christina told her about the garage door opener and what Doug had said. “But I can get it later.”

  “He can’t be asleep yet,” Marilyn said. “I’ll go see. Even if he is, I think I know where it is.” She got up. “Could you pause it, Michele? I’ll be right back. You go take care of what you need to, Christina. If I find it, I’ll bring it out to you.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt your movie,” she said. “You can just leave it on the counter near the back door there, and I’ll get it after.” Christina walked across the living room and out the front door.

  After they’d switched the cars, it took Doug less than fifteen minutes to carry all her stuff up the stairs. He wouldn’t let her lift a thing.

  “You do realize,” she said, “I loaded all that stuff into my car by myself this morning. And I carried it down some rusty metal steps, not this plush carpeting.”

  “That’s because I wasn’t there,” he said.

  “Guess that smothering thing runs in the family,” Christina said. Of course, when Doug had used that phrase earlier, he’d included the words “with love” on the end. That wouldn’t quite work here. But she sure did love being treated this way. Seeing the muscles in his arms and back flex carrying those boxes up the stairs did nothing to lessen the growing attraction she’d begun to feel for him.

  She knew there was nothing to it on his end. He was just raised right. All she had ever known were guys raised totally wrong.

  He looked at the pile of boxes in the center of the living room. “How about I move these into the rooms where they go? Might as well put me to work while I’m here.” He looked more closely at them. “I don’t see any rooms written down.”

  “Doug, it’s not that big of a project. I really appreciate your help. Seriously, I mean that. But I can take it from here.” She walked into the kitchen. “You look like you could use a cold drink. I haven’t had any time to shop, and I’m not sure the tenant who lived here before me left anything good in the fridge.”

  He laughed. “I doubt it. I heard that guy was a total loser.”

  She opened the refrigerator. It was empty. “Well, at least it’s clean.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get something in the house when I say good-bye to my folks.” He walked toward the stairwell, then turned. “Say, Christina, you don’t need to answer this if you don’t want to. Maybe I am being nosy like my mom said at dinner. But you were talking about that big decision you made recently about your . . . baby, when my mom cut you off. You said something about my sister, Michele, helping you make it. Mind telling me what it was? You know, whether or not you’re keeping the baby?”

  She didn’t mind answering this question and even remembered telling him he could ask her about it later. For some reason, she wanted to know why he wanted to know. What was fueling his curiosity? But she couldn’t think of how to ask him. She walked toward him and sat on the edge of the sofa. “I don’t think it’s nosy to ask. I was about to tell you before. I’ve decided to place my baby with an adopting couple.”

  A surprised look came over his face.

  “Did you figure I was gonna keep her and raise her myself?”

  “So you know it’s a girl?”

  “They told me after I had an ultrasound a few appointments ago.”

  “Doesn’t that make it even harder . . . giving it up. I mean, giving her up?”

  “You mean, knowing it’s a girl
makes it seem more real, like I’m giving up a real person versus an it?”

  “I guess. I mean, I know it’s real.” He shook his head. “She’s real. I was just thinking it might make it harder to let her go.”

  “It wasn’t a big thing for me. I mean, I know it must be for some people, the way they use words. Like calling an unborn baby it, instead of saying he or she. The clinic I went to before going to the one where your mom works does abortions. I didn’t go there for that, just to see if I was pregnant or not. They did free tests there. They called babies it all the time. Either it or fetus. The unborn fetus. I hate that term. It’s a baby. They use words like it or fetus, because then they don’t have to face the fact that they’re talking about ending the life of a person, a little baby.”

  Doug walked over and sat on the edge of an upholstered chair. “I was watching a video during some prolife weekend at the church. Our youth group was serving refreshments. It was a few years ago. They were showing this doctor who performed abortions, but he also delivered babies for patients who wanted to keep them. I thought that was really odd. But even weirder than that, they showed how he changed what he called the baby when he was talking with the mother, based on whether she was having an abortion or keeping the baby. If the mother was having an abortion, he called it a fetus. If she was planning to keep it, he called it ‘your baby.’”

  “See,” Christina said, “that’s exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a baby. It’s always a baby.” She patted her stomach. “That’s what’s in here, a baby. Whether I keep her and raise her as a single mom or let another couple, a married couple, raise her as their own, she’s always a baby.”

  “I like that,” Doug said. “I can tell you feel strongly about it.”

  “I really do. And I think because I do, it was easier for me to make the decision I made.”

  “You mean giving her up for adoption?”

  Christina nodded. Suddenly her emotions began to kick in. She didn’t want them to, but she couldn’t stop them. Maybe it was just the way Doug said “adoption.” She hated how it sounded. But she still knew it was the right thing to do, the only thing she could do.