Almost Twins

by Gail Sattler

  She glanced toward the living room before she sat. “It looks like Raymond fell asleep. We can eat in peace and with both hands.”

  He grinned. “And who said miracles don’t happen?”

  Adelle’s heart caught in her throat. She did believe in miracles, despite the fact that none had ever happened to her. Either that or she’d been looking in the wrong things.

  She’d wanted so badly to come to the cabin that she’d ignored the snow. If she hadn’t picked up Dennis and Raymond at the fork in the road, she would have been here with just Rachel for company, and that would have been a very lonely Christmas. After the initial awkwardness she was enjoying her time with Dennis, and by his kind and gentle nature, she was learning that it was possible to trust a man again. When he had kissed her, he’d only touched her face, giving her the option to easily back away or resist. But she had done neither.

  This time Adelle said grace. Remembering his comments concerning praying before a meal, she kept her prayer short, although the sandwiches weren’t likely to grow cold if she took too long.

  Dennis carried both plates to the sink when they finished eating. “I think I’ll volunteer to do the dishes tonight. Then it’s your turn tomorrow.”

  “Nice try. There are only two plates, two glasses, and one knife.”

  “Yeah. That means Christmas Day is your turn, so I get off easy.”

  He winked, then picked the glasses up off the table.

  Adelle smiled. Despite his words, she knew he would help with both dinner and the cleanup tomorrow. She was beginning to know a lot about him, despite the short space of time they’d been together.

  While he ran water over the plates, Adelle leaned against the wall and studied the cabin. It wasn’t exactly the way the cabin was usually decorated at Christmas, but they hadn’t done a bad job, considering. The daylight had nearly faded, and the foil snowflakes reflected the glow of the woodstove in the low light. The makeshift tree was near enough to the woodstove to catch enough light to be seen, but not near enough to create a fire hazard.

  She had been correct in comparing it to Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree. The colored sponge ornaments and the reddish splatters on the white popcorn strings added just the right amount of color to the dark green of the pine branches, and the crooked foil star provided the right touch for the top. All things combined, it possessed its own unique charm.

  Dennis appeared beside her. Under other circumstances, it would have been the most natural thing in the world for him to slip his arm around her waist, but he didn’t touch her. Nor was she sure she wanted him to. She could have escaped from his kiss, but she couldn’t escape from his arms. Not because she thought he was anything like Shawn, not that she thought he would be forceful and hold her captive, but because she didn’t think she would want to escape.

  She turned to look up at him. Their time together had been short, but already she knew she would miss him when he was gone. She turned back to the tree, but continued to think of Dennis.

  Already, she knew many of his likes and dislikes, as he did hers. His home was in Vancouver and he appeared to hold some kind of executive position which paid well enough that he had entertained the thought of being airlifted home. Adelle, on the other hand, worked as an office clerk for a local logging company, a job that was far from glamorous, and farther still from well-paid.

  On the positive side, Dennis lived his life with Christ in his heart and was honest enough to admit he didn’t read his Bible or memorize as much as he should. She was no different in that respect. In general, life made it difficult—and even more necessary—to put aside time for scripture reading.

  Perhaps one of the reasons she entertained the thought of getting to know Dennis better was because she knew it was impossible. The mere geography of the far-away metropolis of Vancouver versus little Blue River was enough that if they did keep in touch, at best it would be a long distance friendship consisting of E-mail and an occasional phone call. She could handle that.

  She continued to stare at the tree without really focusing on it. Adelle had learned the hard way that harsh reality often shattered idealistic dreams. She had always dreamed of a loving husband and a peaceful bungalow she could call home, complete with happy children and a frisky dog. She did have a happy child, but the father of her child had abused her, and now hated her. She wasn’t exactly fond of him either. And now, she would soon have to move to low-rent housing as a single mother with a low income. In order to go back to work, she had to find satisfactory daycare arrangements. After all that, she wouldn’t have money or time to care for a goldfish, never mind a dog.

  Adelle suspected Dennis would make up with his fiancée upon his return, even though he was adamant that it was over. His feelings had been hurt, but he had a kind heart and he would forgive Joanna. After all, that was what God called His children to do.

  Most important, Dennis needed someone to care for Raymond and the woman he had loved enough to ask to marry him was the best choice. He was a sweet and righteous man and Raymond was a darling baby. Joanna would be a fool not to want to be a part of their lives on a permanent basis.

  Soon Dennis would be happily married, with a loving wife and an adopted son and, no doubt, more children on the way, while Adelle would struggle through life as a single mother. Her only option was to take what Shawn’s parents were offering her, but instead of being a relief from some of the responsibility, it would tie her into a lifetime of obligation, both financial and personal, in order to see that Rachel’s needs were met. She wasn’t ready to sell her soul to them, but she didn’t know what options she had left.

  Dennis’s voice broke into her thoughts. “It sure looks good, doesn’t it? I mean considering what we had to work with.”

  Adelle snapped her thoughts back to the little Christmas tree. She would worry about her problems later. While she was with Dennis, she would enjoy the celebration of Jesus’ birth with him as a Christian brother. “Yes, it does look good. I think it’s time for the presents.”

  “Oh. Presents.” He rammed his hands into his pockets. “I only have one present with me. It’s for Raymond. I wish I had something to give to you. You’ve done so much for both of us.”

  “Don’t be silly. I certainly understand. I actually don’t have much, either. I only have two gifts to put under the tree. One for my aunt and uncle, and one for Rachel.”

  He pulled his suitcase out from behind the couch, removed a small, brightly-wrapped gift, and laid it under the tree. “I don’t even know what it is. It’s from Harv and Katie, for Raymond.”

  As he spoke, his voice skipped, so Adelle didn’t comment. She busied herself with pulling the two presents out from the cupboard where she had stored them, then she returned to Dennis’s side. They stood in silence looking at the small tree with the presents nestled underneath. Three presents seemed right.

  Dennis sighed. “I had a really hard time packing up their Christmas stuff. They had gifts for each other under the tree, and I didn’t even want to touch them.” His voice skipped again, and he drew a ragged breath. “They had a number of gifts for Raymond, too, but they were too big and I didn’t want them reminding me what happened, so I didn’t want them in my car. I put them all in boxes and had everything shipped to my house. I missed that small one, and picked it up at the last minute and put it in my suitcase as I was leaving.”

  The guilt at her own selfish thoughts poked at her. She had been thinking so much about her own problems that she had forgotten about Dennis’s. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for him to have lost his brother, especially this time of year.

  When her parents had announced they were going to California to be with her brother’s family again, Adelle had struggled with the hurt and the jealousy, and the disappointment. Now, it paled in comparison to the thought of the death of Dennis’s brother.

  Adelle walked back to the playpen and lifted Rachel out. “You should really wake Raymond. I’m waking Rachel right now.
If they sleep too much now, they’re not going to sleep tonight.”

  “They both wake up every four hours to be fed. You must define sleeping at night differently than I do.”

  “The point is that they go back to sleep after they’re fed.”

  “I guess.”

  Dennis picked Raymond up and sat on the couch, but Adelle went into the kitchen and flicked on the radio. The announcer confirmed what she already knew, that it was still snowing, and then traded jokes with a caller about the over-white Christmas in store for the area. She flicked it off, lit the candle on the coffee table, and joined Dennis on the couch.

  “It sounds like there’s been no change in the forecast, huh?”

  Adelle shook her head. “Nope.”

  “There hasn’t been a mention of power or phone outages, either. This must have been the only area affected.”

  “It’s possible. I told you before, this area is very remote. Most of the access roads leading to the cabins out here are old logging roads—some of them are in use during the logging season, but some of them aren’t. I don’t think the last road we used to get up here is even on the map. People come out here for privacy, and they get it.”

  “That’s amazing. I don’t know what it’s like in Blue River, but where I live, I imagine you’d feel awfully claustrophobic. The houses aren’t all that close together, in my opinion. But coming from Blue River, you’d probably think they were nearly touching.”

  She grinned. “Probably. I’ve never been to Vancouver.”

  “And I’ve never been to Blue River.”

  He looked down at her hands, giving her the impression that he would have touched her if she hadn’t been holding Rachel.

  “One day, I’d like you to come and visit me in Vancouver. I don’t want to lose touch, Adelle. I’m not saying that just because I owe you my life—”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly shook his head, stopping her from protesting.

  “Please. Let me finish. I really do owe you my life. If you hadn’t come by and picked me up, Raymond and I would have frozen to death. As I was saying, I want to see you again after all this is over. Not just out of gratitude, although I am eternally grateful, but more so, because I like you. I want to stay friends, special friends, even over the miles.”

  Adelle opened her mouth, but again, no sound came out. This time it wasn’t because he stopped her, it was because her brain short-circuited.

  “I know this is awkward for you, so I’m going to change the subject. It’s Christmas Eve, and it’s time to take it easy, time to relax, and time to reflect. Tell me about your best-ever Christmas.”

  She stared at him. She’d always enjoyed Christmas, and most of the time she came to the cabin for Christmas with her family. She really couldn’t think of any year that really stood out above the rest.

  Except this Christmas. There were almost no decorations, her family was missing, her future was uncertain, but so far, it was turning into a special Christmas, because of a very special new friend.

  Eleven

  Dennis couldn’t hold back a yawn. It wasn’t that late, but the atmosphere of the cabin was cozy. Sitting side-by-side with Adelle and cuddling a baby was comforting in a way he never would have foreseen. Not only that, but the heat from the woodstove was making him drowsy. From what little experience he had gained in the past few days, he thought Raymond was sleepy, too. It appeared Rachel was already asleep.

  He turned to Adelle. “Do you think it’s bedtime?”

  She nodded. “Rachel probably needs changing, but I’m not going to wake her up to do it. How about if you change Raymond, and then I’ll take care of him.”

  He liked the delicate way she said that. Dennis smiled. “Great.”

  As he touched the diaper bag, the lack of bulk reminded him that it only contained the wipes and powder. Everything else was used up, including his supply of sleepers.

  He laid Raymond down on the changing quilt, and waited while Adelle tucked Rachel into the playpen for the night. He opened his mouth to apologize for needing more from her, but snapped it shut. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to extend his apologies or thanks as she continued to help him, both with Raymond and his own need of food and shelter. He’d never felt more helpless in his life, nor had he been so dependent on anyone since childhood. He wondered if there was a reason he needed to be taught to accept help gracefully, as well as to receive instructions. Usually he was the one who gave the orders and people depended on him for their needs, not the other way around. He wasn’t sure he liked it this way.

  Dennis gritted his teeth, and forced himself to smile nicely. “I hate to ask you this, but can I borrow a sleeper?” It nearly killed him, but he bit his lip and didn’t apologize.

  Her answering smile told him his efforts at self-control had been worth it. “Sure.” She reached into her diaper bag and pulled out a clean sleeper.

  It was pink.

  Dennis dressed his little boy, who was already wearing a pink diaper, in a pink sleeper. At least he still had a neutral yellow receiving blanket to tuck around Raymond, although he was sure it was also ready for the laundry. When it did go into the hamper, he had a feeling his little boy would also be wrapped in a pink blanket.

  While Adelle was busy in the bedroom with Raymond, he carefully carried the candle to the kitchen, washed the few dishes, and placed another pot of water on the woodstove to warm. When she returned with Raymond, Dennis suspected that Adelle would want to go to sleep for the night, knowing what kind of schedule lay ahead of her. After a full day of baby care he knew she was tired and regretted that she wouldn’t get much of a break. Her night would consist of a series of naps rather than a good, sound sleep.

  Somehow, he wanted to show her that he appreciated her and tell her how much what she was doing meant to him. Already whatever was between them had grown into a friendship beyond that of a host and caregiver.

  For one of the rare times in his life, he had no words to express himself. He wanted simply to be with her with no responsibilities or distractions for a couple of hours, but to keep her from what little sleep she would get would be selfish.

  Raymond was asleep in her arms when she emerged from the bedroom, and Adelle was trying to stifle a yawn. She looked so sweet he wanted to kiss her again, but he didn’t have that right. It had been a mistake to kiss her the first time because now he wanted to do it again. Given their circumstances, it was neither right nor proper to do so.

  Instead, he merely smiled politely at the memory of how good it had been as he took Raymond from her. “If you want to go to bed, that’s fine with me. I’m tired, too.”

  She smiled, and the puffy circles underneath her drowsy eyes twisted his heart. “Thanks. I think I’ll do that. Good night, Dennis.” With those few words, she returned to the bedroom, and the door clicked shut.

  Dennis pulled the couch mattress out to make up the bed; changed into the same clothes he had worn at night previously, and crawled into bed, but by the time he lay down all the tiredness left him.

  The fire in the woodstove cast its amber glow in the otherwise complete black of the night, reflecting on the little tree nearby, making it the only thing he could see with any clarity.

  It was, indeed, a very special little tree, not by its components, but because of the experience of its creation—the process of assembling it with someone special. The broken branches, ragged sponges, and badly colored popcorn wouldn’t be beautiful to anyone else but him. And tomorrow, they would celebrate the reason for assembling the tree.

  In the morning, it would be Christmas, the celebration of the birth of the One who would become the Savior for a world fallen into sin.

  A piece of wood popped in the fire, illuminating the shiny wrapping paper of the one small present for Raymond with its brief flare of light.

  Dennis rolled over onto his back on the lumpy bed. His eyes burned and he squeezed them shut, but a few tears managed to push their way out. He g
ave up and let them flow. Now he was alone, and it didn’t matter. No one could see him, and he could allow himself to grieve the loss of his brother. Tonight, he didn’t have to be the strong one in the crowd as others wept around him. He also didn’t have to worry about looking like a loser in front of Adelle, although he knew she would never feel that way.

  As much as the loss of his brother and sister-in-law left a gaping hole in his heart, he knew they were now with Jesus in Heaven. The knowledge gave him comfort and the strength to carry on and be a parent to Raymond for them.

  Dennis rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. Nothing was going to stop him from adopting his nephew and making him a son. He prayed for help until he knew what he was doing, for guidance as Raymond grew up, and that they could be a happy family.

  Sleep continued to elude him. When baby noises emanated from the playpen, he picked up the fussing infant and blinked a few times before discerning that this baby dressed in pink was Rachel.

  He sat on the edge of the mattress to wait for Adelle to appear, but she didn’t. It took a few minutes to figure out that since he had picked Rachel up so quickly, there hadn’t been enough noise to awaken Adelle.

  Dennis glanced toward the closed bedroom door. He had two choices. He could wait until Rachel got so hungry that she started screaming in his arms, or, he could tap on the door loud enough to awaken Adelle and, hopefully, not wake Raymond.

  He didn’t want to invade Adelle’s privacy while she was sleeping. But neither did he want Rachel’s poor little tummy to hurt from hunger.

  Rachel began to whimper again, indicating it wouldn’t be long before she started wailing.

  Dennis stood and Rachel quieted as soon as he took his first step. Even with his limited experience, he knew the quiet was temporary. He tapped gently on the bedroom door. “Adelle?” he whispered as loud as he dared.