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The Color of Joy

Page 16

by Julianne MacLean


  She looked down at her hands on her lap. “I can’t blame you. I can’t even imagine what you and your wife must have gone through when you found out someone took your child. It must have been terrible.”

  “It was.”

  She hesitated and kept her eyes downcast. “I don’t know what Sylvie said to make you come here. I didn’t think you would. You certainly don’t owe me anything. So thank you for that.” Her eyes lifted and met mine.

  “I guess I was curious,” I replied, wanting, for some reason, to offer an explanation.

  She let out a small breath. “I can’t blame you for that either, and I know there’s nothing I can say to make up for what I did. I hardly remember any of it, but that doesn’t matter. What they tell me is beyond comprehension—even to me—so I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you how sorry I am. I honestly didn’t know what I was doing.”

  I found myself sitting forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees, staring at her with a deeper, more intent curiosity. I studied her eyes and her cheeks and her mouth, every little nuance in her facial expression.

  “You really don’t remember anything?” I asked. Maybe I thought I could make her slip up and eventually confess that yes…she did in fact remember exactly what she had done, and that she had planned it all meticulously in advance. Every last detail.

  I was glad Miller was there, watching and listening.

  “Nothing at all,” she replied, “up until the seizure. I do remember when it came on. I was in the restroom changing a diaper, and just before I collapsed, I felt confused and wondered whose baby it was on the table in front of me. I did my best to move her safely to the floor so that she wouldn’t fall because I knew what was happening to me. I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

  I found myself imagining the scene as she described it to me. “Thank you for that, at least,” I replied.

  “No, thank you,” Jenn replied. “I was pretty out of it, but I vaguely remember, as I was coming out of it, hearing the sound of someone banging on the door and knowing that help was on the way, but I couldn’t respond. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  As I sat and listened to her describe other aspects of her seizure, I couldn’t help but feel that she was telling me the truth—that she really had collapsed with no idea where she was or what was happening.

  With that, came the first true inkling of compassion I felt. Maybe I felt it because she struck me as a reasonable, sane person with remorse, at least in that moment. There was nothing sinister about her, nor were there any veiled signs of darkness beneath the surface—something I was well acquainted with, having spent time in prison. I could spot evil in the eyes of a man at twenty paces.

  Then it hit me like a brick that her sister had done the right thing to bring me here. Not just for Jenn’s sake, but for my own.

  Jenn glanced up at Miller who was standing against the wall. “See? Nothing new. Same story.”

  He smiled and slipped his notepad into his pocket.

  Jenn returned her attention to me. “Thank you for seeing me and for finding me in that bathroom. I don’t know what would have happened if help hadn’t arrived when it did.”

  “You’re welcome,” I replied.

  Tears filled her eyes as she reached for my hand. I found myself accepting hers in mine. “You’re a good man, Riley James. You didn’t deserve for this to happen to you.” Then she smiled. “And your daughter’s a very lucky girl to have a father who cares so much.”

  As I regarded the joyful, optimistic sparkle in Jenn Nichols’s eyes, I felt surprisingly uplifted—as if great things were awaiting me just over the horizon. I had my newborn daughter back under my protection, and my beautiful wife was alive. Not only that…my wife loved me and believed in me, despite my many mistakes in this life. That was nothing new, I supposed. I’d been saying that for years. It’s why I treasured her so deeply. It’s why my life had been forever changed.

  I sat in silence with Jenn Nichols for a moment, contemplating all of these things. Then I stood. “I should get back to my family.”

  Making my way to the door, I stopped when she said one more thing.

  “Mr. James, will you also tell your wife how sorry I am? Please tell her it was the tumor. She certainly doesn’t owe me her forgiveness. I don’t expect it, but I need you both to know that I regret what happened. I wish I could take it back. I ruined what should have been one of the best days of your lives.”

  I faced her. “I’ll tell her. And good luck tomorrow. I’ll be praying for you.”

  Jenn sucked in a breath, like a gasp. Maybe she hadn’t expected me to ever say a prayer for her. But how could I not? I was no angel myself. I’d committed my own sins, many of which I can’t remember because I was drunk or high. I’d done things in my youth—destructive things—that I shudder to think of today. Was I now too arrogant to remember the life I’d once lived, the mistakes I’d made? Or to forgive others for theirs?

  Jenn Nichols was no monster. She was just a victim of a cancer on her brain, through no fault of her own. It wasn’t a choice she made. What mattered now was that I had my child back in my arms, and my wife, my angel, was alive, thanks to the doctors in this place. Or maybe all of that was thanks to a miracle or two, sent from heaven.

  I felt sorry for Jenn Nichols. She was in police custody for a crime she’d unwittingly committed and on top of that, she was about to undergo brain surgery. She was not as blessed as I was today.

  I knew, if anyone deserved my prayers, it was this woman before me—because she was still in great need of a few miracles of her own.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  “Can I ask what you decided to name your baby?” Miller asked as we stepped onto the elevator. “Yesterday morning, you and Lois said you would know the right name when you saw her. Now you have.”

  I pressed the button to return to Lois’s floor. “We decided to call her Leah.”

  Miller made a face. “Hmm. Funny.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “That’s the second time I’ve heard that name today.” He seemed to ponder the name while looking up at the lighted numbers counting down over the elevator doors. “Why did you choose it?”

  I inclined my head inquisitively. “How about you tell me where else you heard the name? Then I’ll tell you why we chose it.”

  We reached our floor and the doors slid open. “All right, then.” Miller stepped off. “When I questioned Jenn Nichols about what she remembered from yesterday, all she could talk about was her seizure coming on, but she was able to describe a dream she’d had while she was lying on the floor in the restroom, before you tried to kick the door in.”

  “What was it?”

  We walked past the nurse’s station, heading toward Lois’s room. “She said she dreamed there was a female doctor in the room taking care of her, telling her everything was going to be okay. The doctor picked up your baby and held her until we arrived.” Miller’s eyes met mine. “The doctor’s name was Leah.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “You’re kidding me.”

  Miller stopped as well. “No, that’s what she said.”

  Feeling strangely euphoric and lightheaded, I began to back away from him.

  “Where are you going?” Miller asked.

  “I need to see Jenn Nichols again.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to hear more about that dream.” Still backing up, I quickened my pace.

  Miller stepped forward. “Wait a second. You still haven’t told me why you chose that name.”

  I turned around and walked quickly toward the elevators, tossing him a quick answer over my shoulder. “It was my sister’s name.”

  My heart beat fast as I rounded the corner, pressed the button a few times and waited impatiently for a light to illuminate over one of the doors. Miller appeared beside me.

  “Which sister?” he asked, just as an elevator arrived. “The one who died?”

  “That’s right.” I stepped on,
pressed button number five and gave him a smug, self-satisfied look. “And Jenn Nichols isn’t a criminal,” I added as the elevator doors slid closed between us. “She’s a victim, Miller, and thank God someone realized she needed a little help from above.”

  Jenn

  Post-surgery

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Thoughts came hazily into my mind as I regained consciousness in the hospital room. I felt confused for a few seconds, not sure where I was or what had happened to me, but at least I knew something was different. It wasn’t like before. I hadn’t suffered another seizure. Then I remembered saying good-bye to my husband and kissing him before they wheeled me off to surgery.

  Now, there was a bandage wrapped around my head. I felt groggy. Maybe that’s what made me realize I must have had the surgery—and I’d survived it.

  “Baby, I’m here,” Jake whispered softly, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “You did great. I’m so glad you’re back.” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it numerous times. I felt his teardrop fall to my wrist and roll slowly down my arm to the inside of my elbow.

  “Don’t cry,” I said in a trembling voice. “Everything’s okay now.”

  He shuddered with a sob and kissed me on the lips. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.” I wanted to sit up and throw my arms around his neck, but that would have to wait. I needed to gain back some strength first.

  He collected himself and sat back in the chair. “The doctor’s on his way, but he told us the operation went like clockwork. He said they got the whole thing. But how are you feeling?”

  “Okay,” I replied, managing a small smile. “I feel smarter.”

  Jake laughed. “Your boss will be glad to hear it.”

  “Maybe he’ll give me a promotion.”

  “As long as it comes with a decent pay raise.” Jake kissed my hand again, then looked up when the doctor entered the room.

  “You’re awake,” Dr. Phillips said. “Welcome back, Jenn. How are you feeling?”

  “All right,” I replied, though I wasn’t ready to lift my head off the pillow yet.

  “Good to hear.” He listened to my heart with his stethoscope and nodded approvingly. “Can you tell me your name?”

  “It’s not written in my chart?” I asked teasingly. “And you said I was the one with memory problems. Sheesh.”

  “Your sense of humor’s intact,” he said with a grin. “Name, please?”

  “Jenn Nichols.”

  “Do you remember your birthday?”

  “March 28, which makes me an Aries.”

  “Very good.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm, squeezed the ball a few times and took a reading. “BP looks good. Can you wiggle your fingers for me? Now your toes? Very good. And who’s that person right there?” He pointed to Jake.

  “That’s my husband, Jake.”

  “Excellent.” He wrote a few things down in my chart and moved around the foot of the bed. “Your head will be a bit sore for a while but we’ll give you some pain medication to ease that. We’ll be keeping you here for at least four or five days to make sure you’re doing okay on all fronts, but so far everything looks terrific, Jenn. You were a superstar on the table. Seriously. Everything went perfectly.”

  “I like being a superstar,” I replied. “Especially when I’m having brain surgery.”

  Dr. Phillips chuckled. “I suspect you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Well done.” He patted my foot under the sheet and left the room.

  Jake squeezed my hand. “Sylvie and your mom should be here soon. They went home to shower a little while ago and I just sent them a text to let them know you’re awake.”

  I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Jake. I wanted everything to be smooth and easy.”

  “When is life ever smooth and easy?” he asked. “I’m just glad you made it through okay and we have the future to look forward to. I still feel like the luckiest man alive to be married to you, and no matter what happens from this day forward, we’ll get through it, like we always have. I’m not worried.”

  I nodded in agreement and he kissed the inside of my wrist, drew small circles with his forefinger over the delicate blue veins.

  “You know it’s funny,” I said. “When I invited Sylvie to live with me while you were gone, I thought I was going to be the one helping her out, but it turned out to be the opposite. I was the one who needed help, and she took good care of me, even when I was impossible.”

  “She’s come a long way,” Jake replied. “I think she’s going to be okay. She seems stronger these days.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Not to change the subject…” Jake said as he bent down and reached for something in his backpack on the floor. “But I was thinking…”

  Slowly he withdrew a newly framed photograph of the seaside cottage in Maine where we’d spent our honeymoon.

  “You fixed it,” I said.

  “Actually, Sylvie did. And when I get back for good in the spring and you’re feeling better,” he said, “let’s think about taking some time, driving out east and renting this house again. I checked and it’s still available. We could take the sailboat out and maybe…if you’re keen…we can try and make another baby.”

  Joy rose up within me. “That sounds like a dream, but don’t forget I’m being charged for kidnapping.”

  “We’re going to get you a really good lawyer, babe. We all know you weren’t in your right mind. The doctors know it. Even Riley James knows it.”

  I swallowed hard over a lump in my throat and fought back tears. “But do you really want to have a baby with me, Jake? You’re not just suggesting it for me?”

  He laid a hand on my cheek. “Of course I want it. I might not have before, but clearly I was delusional because I’ve been so happy all this time, thinking about our future, as parents. I was dreaming about diapers and little league and helping with homework the whole time I was away.”

  His words were a soothing balm on my heart. “I’m so sorry I lost our baby,” I said, “and for keeping that from you. I just didn’t know how to tell you, and I was so confused all the time.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he replied. “You weren’t yourself and I sure didn’t make it easy for you, but you’re better now. We’ll try again.”

  I smiled as he climbed onto the bed and pulled me into his arms. “You know…” I said, running my finger over his chin, “I’ve always been an optimist and I’ve always believed that anything was possible, but now I believe it more than ever because of what happened to me. I don’t want to waste any time. Life is so precious.”

  “We have to make every day count,” Jake agreed. “We know that better than anyone, don’t we?”

  I nodded and together we gazed at the picture of the place where we’d spent our first days together as man and wife.

  “Whenever I look at this,” Jake said, “I feel happy, because it reminds me that I married the right woman. I’m glad I found you, Jenn, and that we’re together, and somehow I know that we’re blessed. We must be, because look what we just went through. And we’re okay.”

  I rolled to face him and rested my head on his shoulder. “We’re more than okay, Jake. And even though my head hurts and I might get charged for kidnapping, I swear I’ve never been happier in my life.”

  I touched my lips to his—to make sure he knew how much I meant it.

  Epilogue

  Riley James

  Sometimes I find it astounding when I look back on my life and remember the person I was in my youth—how angry and unhappy I was. I’m still not sure what caused everything to change. Was it just maturity, or was it life experience—the very worst kind that can knock sense into a man, like a wooden plank to the head?

  Or maybe it was love. The day I met Lois was the day I truly began to see how far I could go, how high I could reach to become a better man. I was both bewildered and inspired by t
he admiration I saw in her eyes. All I wanted to do was live up to the greatness—and the goodness—she perceived in me. I never wanted to disappoint her.

  We are that way with our children now, which is the opposite of how I was raised by my father. In his eyes, I was a failure at everything I tried and would never amount to anything. Unfortunately I believed him. Until I met Lois.

  Together, as parents, we express our love to our children and admire their accomplishments with joy and enthusiasm, even the small ones like first steps and first words. Trudy is in second grade now, reading ahead of her level, and we make sure she knows how proud we both are. I never hold back when I tell her how amazing I think she is, and she responds with an ambitious spark in her eye like nothing I’ve ever seen.

  I’m also proud to relate that Danny is a polite, well-behaved young man, interested in building things like his father. He has a passion for big machines like excavators and cranes. We’re encouraging him to enjoy that, though it’s anyone’s guess what he’ll want to be as he matures. He also loves airplanes and he’s good at math, so when it comes to his dreams and what makes him happy, we’re working to keep as many doors open as possible.

  As for our baby, Leah, she’s still learning what her thumbs can do, so the future is wide open for her.

  I’ve had no dreams or spiritual encounters with my sister Leah since the day our baby was taken from the hospital nursery, but I can’t help but believe she’s out there somewhere, watching over all of us.

  When I think of Jenn Nichols in that airport restroom dreaming of a doctor taking care of her, or when I recall how I tripped and fell that night, as if someone had stuck a foot out in front of me, how can I not believe? I confess, I never had much faith in Heaven before, but now I’m a true believer because clearly, there has to be some sort of magic in the universe when incredible things unfold as they do.

 

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