by Amanda Tru
So that’s the good news.
The bad news is she definitely has that sickness the doctors talked about earlier, the one with the extra chromosome. And that means she might end up being kind of like Spencer, one of those babies who’s always kind of sick and maybe doesn’t learn to walk or talk as soon as other kids. But I know Auntie, and I know Uncle Simon, and I know they’ll be just fine with that.
The doctors told Auntie and Uncle Simon that “she’s not out of the woods yet,” by which they mean something really bad could still happen before they get the chance to bring Grace home. But they also said there must have been a lot of people praying for her on account of her lungs working way better than the doctors at first expected.
Auntie Hannah is doing well after the surgery. Mom says she’ll be sore for a while, and she’s not supposed to move too much, but Uncle Simon’s taking time off work so he can help take care of her at her home. I’m actually kind of sad she won’t be around here every day.
It's only been a few hours now since Grace was born, and the doctors told her parents they’ll know a lot more as time passes. The way Dad put it when we talked on the phone, it sounds like maybe God’s doing a miracle right now, but we won’t know for sure right away. So basically Grace is okay at this exact minute, but she still might end up not being okay, and the only way we’ll really know is to wait.
I’m not sure I like the idea of waiting all that much, to be honest, but Dad says if Grace hasn’t gotten any worse by dinnertime and if Auntie and Uncle Simon say it’s okay, he’ll come back and pick me up so I can say hi to them at the hospital. I might not get to see Grace right away on account of her being in a special part of the hospital for sick babies, but I can say hi to Auntie at least and ask any questions I have then about Baby Grace and how she’s doing.
I just got home from seeing Auntie and her family at the hospital. I couldn’t see Baby Grace, but Mom had a lot of pictures on her phone, so she showed me those, and Grace looks really tiny but otherwise just like a normal baby.
Auntie was really tired, so I didn’t talk to her too much. But I went on a walk with Uncle Simon, and I think it may be the longest talk we’ve ever had even though it was probably only four or five minutes.
He said he wanted to thank me for being such a good friend to Auntie and Emily while he’s been at work and that he knows my prayers are part of what made Baby Grace get born so strong. And since I hadn’t been able to get a straight answer yet out of Mom or Dad, and since Auntie was too tired to talk much, I asked Uncle Simon if Baby Grace was going to die.
“You know what, Woong?” he said. “Only God can answer that question. But seeing how strong she is even with the condition she has, it’s given me a lot of hope.”
So I thought about that and wondered if maybe it was the longest thing Uncle Simon’s said not only to me but to anyone in his entire life, and I asked, “So did God do that miracle after all?” Because to be honest, I’ve been a little confused. I was sort of expecting today to go one way or the other. Either God would make Grace all better, and she wouldn’t have that disease at all, or she’d have the disease and die, and God would take her up to heaven.
Uncle Simon thought for a while (he’s a very thoughtful man), and he said, “You know what, Woong? I don’t know how long we’re going to have Grace with us, but whatever happens, I think it’s safe to say yes. God’s given us a miracle.”
And then I knew for sure that was the most Uncle Simon’s ever said, and I started to wonder if maybe he was going to need a nap or something. But he looked just as fine as always. So I said, “You know we made a dress for Baby Grace. Just in case.” I didn’t say anything else on account of it sounding a little inconsiderate at the time, but I could tell he knew what I meant.
“That was very thoughtful of you,” he said, and I told him it was kind of Dad and Mom and my idea all at once, and it was my aunt who actually did the sewing part.
“Well, thank you all very much,” he said.
“It’s in the trunk of the car right now,” I told him. We were getting close to Auntie’s hospital room by then, and Uncle Simon put his hand on my shoulder, and he said, “You know what, Woong? I think that’s a really good place for it.”
So for right now, that dress is in a box all taped up and sitting in the bottom of Mom’s trunk.
And you know what? Uncle Simon’s right.
That’s just the right place for it.
The End
1. Have you ever known anybody with a child as ill as Grace?
2. What would you say to encourage someone in this situation?
3. Do you have siblings? Do you quarrel like Sandy and Rhonda?
4. What part of this story was the most touching for you?
5. Have you read real-life stories of other believers in a situation like Hannah and Simon?
6. How would you feel if your family heirloom dress was turned into something else like this?
7. Does this story bring anybody to mind who might be going through a hard time? How can you pray for or encourage them?
8. How could a church body help a family going through a situation like this?
www.alanaterry.com
Alana Terry is a pastor's wife, homeschooling mom, self-diagnosed chicken lady, and Christian suspense author. Her novels have won awards from Women of Faith, Book Club Network, Grace Awards, Readers' Favorite, and more.
Alana's passion for social justice, human rights, and religious freedom shines through her writing, and her books are known for raising tough questions without preaching. She and her family live in rural Alaska where the northern lights in the winter and midnight sun in the summer make hauling water, surviving the annual mosquito apocalypse, and cleaning goat stalls in negative forty degrees worth every second.
Author Site: www.alanaterry.com
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The Beloved Daughter: Behind North Korea’s closed borders, a young girl is dying for freedom.
Slave Again: She traded in her prison uniform for shackles of a different kind.
Torn Asunder: Hannah’s secret mission could rip them apart and cost them both their lives.
Flower Swallow: Join Woong on his journey through flood, famine, and a shaman’s curse to freedom and redemption.
Orchard Grove Christian Women’s Fiction
Beauty from Ashes: A baby was never part of Tiff’s plans. Especially not a sick baby struggling for life on a ventilator.
Before the Dawn: When depression steals your identity and leaves you without a name…
Sweet Dreams Christian Romance
What Dreams May Come: Her heart is set on becoming a missionary. He’s determined to recruit her for the job.
Kennedy Stern Christian Suspense Novels
Unplanned (Book 1): Kennedy’s pro-life worldview is shaken when she receives a mysterious phone call from a girl who’s far too young to be pregnant.
Paralyzed (Book 2): It’s hard to heal from the past when the past wants you dead.
Policed (Book 3): A rogue police officer can ruin a lot more than a perfect evening out.
Straightened (Book 4): Worldviews collide, and body counts rise when a conservative politician finds out his son is gay.
Turbulence (Book 5): Kennedy’s arctic adventure might come to a crashing halt before it even begins.
Infected (Book 6): Isolated in a hospital lockdown during a global epidemic, Kennedy can only guess who will survive.
Abridged (Book 7): When the fight for women’s rights becomes a struggle for mere survival.
Hello Crossroads Reader!
My very real world prayer is that Sewn Together blessed you and touched your heart, and that hearing this story from Woong’s point of view was a heart-warming experience.
It is now my sincere joy to introduce the fifth and final bo
ok in this collection, The Second Yes by the always accomplished Amanda Tru. Amanda and I have been writing buddies (and even prayer partners) for years now, and she’s truly the heart, soul, and creative mind behind these Crossroad Collections. I love working with Amanda, not only because she’s such a great author, but because she’s such a lovely example of Christian love.
In The Second Yes, Amanda introduces top fashion designer London Hutchins, who creates herself a wedding dress for each guy she ever dates. After the Hollywood shine has dulled, London packs up her closet full of gowns and her successful design business to head back home to Crossroads. There she finds her high school sweetheart waiting. London accepts an offer to set up her business in the local bridal shop owned by the kindhearted Rhonda Snow. However, London soon suspects Rhonda might not be the patron saint everyone believes. Helping out a few of Rhonda’s clients can’t possibly hurt anything, right? Just as long as no one finds out!
Please enjoy this meaningful story that is sure to touch your heart while offering intermittent bouts of giggles, and we’ll see you soon back at the Crossroads!
Author of Sewn Together
By
Published by
Published By
Walker Hammond Publishers
Copyright Notice
The Second Yes, original copyright © 2019 by Amanda Tru
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or recording—without express written permission by the authors and publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or broadcasted articles and reviews.
Each book in this collection is the intellectual property and the copyrighted material of the respective author and/or publisher and is reprinted as a part of this collection (anthology) only once and only by permission of the owners. The publisher makes no claim on, or to, the property of the owners which exceeds that permission. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or intended to be used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, places, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental and beyond the intention of either the authors or the publisher. The characters are products of the authors’ imaginations and used fictitiously.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Rhonda Snow gushed, fluffing the skirt of the wedding dress out to flare like a bulbous, white bell below the bride’s waist.
At the bride’s hesitation, London Hutchins pushed aside the long, medium-blonde, hair escaping from her messy bun and covertly looked up from her detail work on the material in front of her. She didn’t want to appear to eavesdrop on one of Rhonda’s clients. After all, though London worked out of Rhonda’s bridal boutique, their businesses were completely different. London didn’t want to interfere, but the enthusiastic, emotional response of a typical bride remained a blank, tension-filled silence that carried across to her work station as the seconds lengthened.
Unfortunately, London immediately recognized the problem, almost flinching at the sight of the bride facing the full-length, three-paneled mirror.
“Oh, it is beautiful!” The bride’s mother finally filled in before her daughter’s silence could be construed as openly rude. “It is exactly how I pictured my daughter as a bride! Oh, Danielle! You’re a vision! I can’t believe my baby is getting married!” The mother sniffled and dabbed a tissue beneath her tearing eyes.
London’s heart went out to the bride as if she could read her every thought through the emotions playing across the delicate face in the mirror. Actually, London knew it was probably just one thought repeating over and over, inescapable from every angle of the mirror or tilt of the head.
The dress was hideous.
Not just a “not the style I like” hideous, but a hideous that should be recognized as ugly in every culture or time period, except apparently to the two matrons flanking the clearly distraught bride.
“But it isn’t exactly how I pictured it, Mom,” Danielle finally managed with trembling lips.
Good for you! London silently cheered.
“Oh, honey, but it is!” the mother disagreed as if she knew her daughter’s thoughts better than Danielle did herself. “This is the exact dress we chose weeks ago, only this one fits you so much better!”
“No, Mom, this is the dress you chose. I wanted a simpler sleeveless dress with less... fluff.” Danielle lifted some of the abundant skirt decorating her hips and let it drop back down heavily.
“Danielle, we talked and agreed that this one is so much more flattering and modest,” the mother insisted. “The sleeveless styles show so much skin. We didn’t want you to be embarrassed on your wedding day. Besides, with your dad’s position as a deacon in the church, this dress is far more appropriate.”
“But it isn’t what I wanted for my wedding,” Danielle braved again.
“Well, it’s too late now,” her mother replied, her patience thinning to reveal tense, fine lines around her tightening lips. “The wedding is two weeks away. You’d think a girl would be grateful for a beautiful wedding dress. After all, you could have worn mine, but you wanted something new. I just didn’t realize that your father and I would spend so much money only for you to be ungrateful.”
Danielle’s face turned rosy, and the threatening sobs seemed to gain territory. “But isn’t a bride supposed to like her wedding dress?” she whispered brokenly.
“Oh, but you do like it!” Rhonda spoke up enthusiastically. “You’re just nervous. I see it all the time with brides. The dream of the wedding day is so big that when the time gets close, they fear the reality won’t measure up. But it will. When your mom and I saw you step out in this gown, we both knew it was the one. Remember, you looked so beautiful that your Mom started crying! I work with brides all of the time, and you really are one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen!”
No! Don’t say that! London inwardly groaned. Danielle was obviously smart and possessed keen enough eyesight to clearly see the state of her appearance. Instead of encouraging her, Rhonda’s words could only prove that either the bridal shop owner was exaggerating to the point of lying, or she was blind.
Confirming London’s suspicions, the distraught young woman found no comfort at all. Instead, her shoulders stooped, and her head bent in defeat.
“Honey, Rhonda works with brides all the time,” the mother said, seeming to take her cue from Rhonda and switch tactics to a more comforting approach. “She knows what she’s talking about. If she thinks the dress is beautiful on you, then it is. Sometimes our hormones and emotions play tricks on us.”
Good grief! She’s not thirteen! London barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. While Danielle was younger than London, she was still obviously in her twenties and clearly capable of making her own decisions, but her mother and Rhonda seemed determined to override her wishes.
Rhonda gasped and flailed her arms up dramatically, “I know what the problem is! You can’t see the full picture. Your veil and shoes haven’t arrived yet, but when they do, you’ll see how gorgeous you look.”
“Rhonda, you are so right!” the mother agreed. “When all the pieces are together and your wedding day arrives, you’ll see how perfect it is!”
“Wait! I have an idea!” Rhonda bustled off, busily rummaging through racks to find something.
With Rhonda gone, it gave London a few seconds to more overtly study Danielle’s dress. Unfortunately, the poor girl looked like a mummy with a poofy skirt that looked as if it belonged in a ballroom in the 1800s. The extensive dress covered every inch of skin except her pale face sticking up out of the high-necked collar and her hands peeking out the elaborately appliqued long sleeves.
Sadly, Danielle’s pale, miserable face only added to the overall mummy resemblance.
Hmmm… if you got rid of the sleeves and cut some of the excess material out of the skirt to replace with a few lighter lace inserts…
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br /> London stood, wanting to offer her help but knowing instinctively that it wouldn’t be received well. The mother had her own agenda. Danielle’s dress had already been decided, and the current objective was convincing the bride to come to terms with it.
Before London could coerce herself into throwing caution to the wind and doing what her heart told her was right, Rhonda reappeared armed with a hoop for the skirt, satin gloves, a thick veil, and a pair of white stilettos. Knowing she’d missed her chance, London retreated back to bending over her own work.
“Now, these aren’t the exact ones we chose and ordered, but they’ll give you the general idea,” Rhonda bubbled excitedly as her ample form disappeared beneath the voluminous skirt to attach the hoop.
Five minutes later, Danielle completed her transformation from mummy to large, white ghost. No part of her remained visible behind the thick, white veil, dress, and gloves. While Rhonda and Danielle’s mother pronounced her “breathtaking,” London suspected that Danielle’s quivering shoulders meant that silent tears coursed down her face behind the veil where no gaze could penetrate.
Danielle didn’t say another word, and the dress fitting soon concluded with two smiling matrons and one distressed bride still valiantly trying to dash the tears off her splotchy, red face.
There’s nothing you can do, London told herself, languishing in waves of helplessness. Her place and position in the bridal shop was credited to Rhonda’s good graces. The only reason she’d felt confident the arrangement could be mutually beneficial was because London’s designer wedding dress business catered to a different clientele. Though she hadn’t come outright and said it, London knew Rhonda hoped the high-profile designer boutique would raise the esteem of her own bridal shop, and some of London’s upscale clients just might find some necessities at Rhonda’s Snow White Bridal. However, Rhonda had been very clear from the beginning that the door only opened one direction. London’s clients could patron Rhonda’s store, but London was in no way supposed to steal Rhonda’s clients.