01_Gift from the Heart

by Irene Hannon

  But as she watched Adam interact with his patients at work and strive so diligently at home to be the kind of father he had never known, she recognized what a fine and caring person he was. His patients loved him for his empathetic and unassuming bedside manner, and Clare had been struck time and again by his warmth and patience. No matter how tired or stressed he was, no matter how many demands he was trying to juggle, when he sat down with patients they generally had his full and complete attention. He was an insightful listener who was able to quickly asses a condition and then make sound and decisive decisions. Clare now understood why the town felt so fortunate to have him. He truly was a superb doctor.

  He wasn’t quite as far along on the father front, but he was making great strides. Where once Clare had had to struggle to get Nicole to include Adam in the dinner conversation, the two of them now talked more easily and naturally without her intervention. And she’d noticed that, more and more, Nicole was seeking out Adam for advice. There were even occasional moments of physical affection, when Adam would put his hand on Nicole’s shoulder or she would jab him playfully in the arm. While there was still a lot of room for improvement, the trend was in the right direction. And both father and daughter were blossoming because of it.

  Which was good. Because with only a couple of months remaining in her nanny commitment, she was running out of time to help those two become a family.

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  Startled, Clare shot Adam a guilty look, embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. “They’re not for sale,” she told him with a smile. “Did you need something?”

  Clare saw something flicker for a brief moment in his eyes, something that made her breath catch in her throat. But then he simply handed her Mr. Travis’s chart. “Could you write up an order for blood work?”

  “Sure.”

  As he walked away, she tried to quiet the sudden staccato beat of her heart. Though the look in his eyes had been brief, she was pretty sure she had identified it correctly.

  Longing.

  And she felt exactly the same way.

  But until she dealt with her personal issues, and until Adam recognized—and acknowledged—his own feelings, there was nothing to do but wait.

  “Boy, this is a great spot! The furniture’s new, isn’t it? Seems to me the last time we were here this porch was bare.”

  Adam leaned forward to lift his mug from the wicker coffee table, then settled back into the comfortable matching chair before he replied to his brother, “You get an A for your powers of observation,” he said with a wry smile. “Clare found the whole set at an estate sale, including the settee you’ve appropriated.”

  Jack chuckled. “As I recall, you hogged the couch at Christmas. Now it’s my turn.” He sighed contentedly. “This is the life.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying our hospitality.”

  “The amenities have improved considerably since the last time we were here. And there’s actually a bed in the guest room now. No more sleeping bags.”

  “Clare found that at the same estate sale.”

  “And the food is better, too. No more take-out from that café in town for every meal.”

  “Clare’s a good cook.”

  “She seems to be good at a lot of things.”

  Adam nodded. “She’s worked wonders with Nicole.”

  “I’ve noticed. The prickly pear has been replaced by a peach.”

  “Clever, but true,” Adam said with a smile. “And we’re getting along better than ever. My only concern is what will happen when Clare leaves. I’m afraid Nicole will be devastated.”

  Jack eyed his brother speculatively. “And how about her father?”

  Adam stared into his coffee. “I’m trying not to think about that,” he said quietly.

  “Why not?”

  He gave a frustrated sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. “Clare’s had a lot of trauma in her life already. She doesn’t need any more. And I’m just not husband material. My wife would have told you that.”

  “Maybe you just had the wrong wife.”

  “Maybe. But I had a tough time with Nicole, too. I have trouble with relationships in general. I think I’m getting better, but I wouldn’t want to risk hurting Clare—even if she was open to romance. Which I don’t think she is. She loved her husband very much. She still does.”

  “Just because she loved her husband doesn’t mean there isn’t room in her heart for someone else. And I’ve seen the way she looks at you. My guess is that her interest is more than professional.”

  Adam felt his heart stop, then race on. “Even if that was true, I can’t risk hurting her,” he said carefully. “I wouldn’t want to be married again unless I could have something like you and Theresa have. But that takes a willingness to open up and to share your feelings and emotions. I’m still fighting Dad’s legacy on that front.”

  “Let me ask you something, Adam. Do you trust Clare?”

  “Of course.”

  Jack sat up and dismissed Adam’s response with an impatient shake of his head. “I don’t mean do you trust her to keep the records correctly at your office, or to tutor Nicole or to handle your household budget. I’m talking about trust at the deepest level. Do you trust that no matter what you tell her about your past, about your deepest fears and your dreams and your feelings, that she’ll always treat you gently?”

  Adam frowned. Leave it to Jack to ask the tough questions. Adam turned toward the distant, blue-hazed mountains and thought back over the many examples of Clare’s empathy and caring that he’d witnessed: the gifts she’d lovingly knitted for him and Nicole at Christmas, her generous work with the Feed the Hungry program, her efforts to help Nicole make friends at school, the way she’d transformed his house into a home—a place he relished returning to after a long day. He thought about her keen insights and gentle kindness, honed in the fire of adversity. About her loyalty to the ones she loved, and about the way she was miraculously transforming the lives of two lonely people. Trust Clare? The answer was obvious.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what’s holding you back?”

  Jack’s question was not only pointed, but valid. And Adam knew the answer, though it was difficult to articulate after years of living with a father who saw such admissions as weakness. Adam glanced down into the murky depths of his coffee and forced himself to give voice to the word. “Fear.”

  “Bingo,” Jack concurred quietly. “And you know what? That’s not a sin, Adam, despite what Dad might have made you think. It’s okay to be afraid. I’ve been afraid. A lot of times. And Theresa knows it. That didn’t hurt our relationship. In fact, it made it stronger. Being willing to admit that you don’t always have all the answers, that sometimes you’re afraid and uncertain, is just being human. Superheroes might be nice in the movies, but in a relationship nobody wants a perfect mate. That would be impossible to live with—or live up to. People just want someone who cares, who tries to understand their point of view, their feelings, their fears, their hopes—and who’s willing to share theirs. That doesn’t mean you’re always perfect. It just means you sincerely try.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “May I tell you something else?”

  Adam looked up, but remained silent.

  “You’re just about there, buddy. I can’t believe the difference in you in the past few months. You look happier and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you. And you’ve shared more with me in our last couple of visits than you have in our entire lives. I’d say that’s progress. And my guess is that one very special nanny can take the credit for that.”

  Jack leaned forward, clasped his hands and rested his forearms on his thighs. “So here’s a piece of advice from your kid brother, for whatever it’s worth. If I were you, I’d think long and hard about renewing Clare’s contract—on a permanent and personal basis.”

  As they settled into the church pew for the sermon, Clare glanced at the family group next to her. Nicole was on he
r left, with Adam beside her. Theresa was next in the row, then came Adam’s niece and nephew, Karen and Bobby. Jack was at the end of the pew, on the aisle.

  When Adam and Nicole had insisted that she join in the family’s Easter activities, she’d hesitated, not wanting to intrude. But in the end, she was glad they had talked her into it. She’d liked Jack and Theresa immediately, and they had embraced her warmly, making her feel like part of the group instead of an outsider. Under Jack’s energetic direction, there had been nonstop activity since their arrival. And Clare was glad for that. It gave her less time to think about past Easters, when she’d had her own family.

  Reverend Nichols moved to the pulpit, and Clare focused her attention on him. As usual, his sermon was well prepared and articulate. And his final words touched her deeply.

  “A few years ago, shortly after I was ordained, I was assisting at a church in a small town in Oklahoma,” he said. “I preached what I thought was a very good sermon, and I was eagerly waiting to greet the congregation afterward, sure I’d receive all kinds of accolades.

  “Well, things didn’t go quite as I expected. Most people said polite, perfunctory things. But no one raved. Finally an older gentleman came along. At that point I was desperate for a compliment, so I asked him if he’d enjoyed the sermon. And I’ll never forget what he said to me.

  “‘It was okay, young man. But if you want people to really listen, you need to speak from the heart. Facts and figures are all well and good, and I expect I learned a thing or two today about Bible history. But that’s not going to make me change my life. Don’t just tell me what I’m supposed to believe. Tell me why you believe it. What’s in the heart is just as important as what’s in the head.’

  “Well, needless to say, my ego was pretty deflated. But when I thought about it, I realized he was right. And I took his comments to heart. But I can tell you that his advice isn’t always easy to follow. Because when we speak from the heart about our faith, we take a risk. We’re not just putting our theology on the line, we’re putting ourselves on the line. We’re opening ourselves to ridicule and rejection and pain. And in the case of our Lord, to death. But the important thing to remember is that His death wasn’t the end. It was the beginning.

  “My dear friends, that’s what Easter is all about. The lessons of this day are many, but a key one is that we must live what we believe, not just think about it. We must follow our Lord’s example of complete and unselfish love. Sometimes that means we have to take chances. That in order to grow in our faith, and in our lives, we have to be willing to trust our heart with other people. To share what we believe, knowing that not everyone will treat us kindly. Knowing that we can become discouraged and afraid. But unless we let go of our fear, unless we follow the example of our Lord and reach out to other people with our love, we can never move forward or fulfill His plan for us.

  “So on this Easter Sunday, as we celebrate new life in Christ, I ask Him to bestow the gift of His grace on all of us, and to give us the courage to trust in Him and to love as He did…completely, selflessly and without reservation. And now let us pray….”

  Clare felt tears welling up in her eyes at the beautiful message in Reverend Nichols’s sermon. Unconsciously she looked to Adam, wondering if the message had special meaning for him, as well.

  But he was turned toward Jack. And as she watched, a brief, knowing look passed between the two brothers.

  Feeling like an eavesdropper, Clare quickly turned back toward the front. But she couldn’t help wondering what that look was all about.

  “Do you think Dad will be surprised?”

  Clare turned toward Nicole, who was setting the table. Fresh flowers were arranged in a glass bowl in the center of the snowy-white cloth, and there was a festive feel in the air. “Absolutely. I think he’s convinced we’ve forgotten his birthday entirely. I didn’t say a word to him about it this morning.”

  “Me, neither.”

  Clare flipped the switch for the oven light and checked the meat thermometer. “Looks like we’re about ready. Now let’s hope the guest of honor is on time.”

  As if on cue, they heard the sound of crunching gravel as Adam’s car pulled up the driveway to the garage.

  “Showtime,” Clare said with a smile.

  Nicole nervously wiped her hands on her oversize apron. “I hope he likes everything.”

  “Pork tenderloin, potatoes au gratin, green beans almondine—and a killer birthday cake—what’s not to like?” Clare said encouragingly.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  A moment later they heard the door open. Adam strode into the room—but then stopped abruptly as his gaze fell on the beautifully set table, then traveled to the Happy Birthday banner and balloons that decorated the room.

  “Happy birthday, Dad.”

  He heard the barely suppressed excitement—as well as the touch of uncertainty—in Nicole’s voice, and gave her his full attention. “I thought everyone had forgotten.”

  She giggled. “We wanted to surprise you. That’s why we didn’t say anything all day.”

  Adam looked at Clare. “So you were in on this, too, huh?”

  She smiled. “Guilty. But it was mostly your daughter’s doing. In fact, she cooked most of the dinner.”

  “It smells wonderful.”

  “Well, it’s all ready. Go ahead and sit down, Dad.”

  Adam did as instructed, and while Clare and Nicole set out the food, he couldn’t help recalling last year’s birthday. There had been no celebration. Nothing at all to mark the occasion. If Nicole had even remembered that the day held special significance, she had chosen to ignore it. His childhood memories weren’t much better. The only concession to birthdays in his father’s house had been a cake for dessert. Even during his marriage, he and Elaine had simply gone out for dinner—usually to a restaurant of her choosing. He had never had a birthday like this, in his own home, with decorations and a dinner cooked especially for him. He felt his throat grow tight, and there was an odd stinging sensation behind his eyes.

  “Would you like to say grace, Adam?”

  At Clare’s gentle voice, he looked up, noting that she and Nicole had taken their places. Forcing himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, he nodded and bowed his head.

  “We thank You, Lord, for this wonderful meal, and for the gift of special people in our lives. We thank You for the many blessings You give us, for Your comfort and companionship in times of trouble, and for the joy and peace that comes from knowing You are always with us, in good times and bad. I ask Your special blessing today on Nicole and Clare, who have given me a birthday to remember. Please watch over them and keep them in Your care. Amen.”

  When he finished, the wistful look in Clare’s momentarily unguarded eyes told him that his words had touched her deeply.

  Adam couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a meal more. The food Nicole had prepared was wonderful—thanks, he was sure, to Clare’s close supervision—but even better was the company. Nicole chatted animatedly throughout the meal, and the easy banter among the three of them was in marked contrast to the silent, strained meals he and Nicole had shared prior to Clare’s arrival. He had only one word to describe the transformation that had occurred in his relationship with his daughter: miracle.

  Which was exactly what he’d prayed for. Thanks to an unexpected nanny. Adam thought back to his early conversations with Clare, how her surprising offer hadn’t been exactly the kind of help he’d had in mind when he’d asked the Lord for assistance. But he also recalled reminding himself at the time that God’s ways weren’t always our ways. And that maybe Clare was the answer to his prayer.

  As he regarded the lovely woman sitting across from him, he suddenly knew there were no maybes about it. Recalling Jack’s advice, he also knew exactly what he was going to wish for when he blew out the candles on his cake.

  “I can’t eat one more bite,” Adam groaned as he finished off a second slice of the split lemon torte.
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  “So it was okay?” Nicole asked anxiously.

  He grinned. “It was more than okay. It was the best birthday cake I ever had.”

  She smiled, and the pleasure in her eyes warmed his heart. “Cool!”

  He reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You can cook for me anytime.”

  “Well, I couldn’t have done it without Clare. She showed me how to make all the stuff.”

  “Then my hat is off to Clare, too,” he acknowledged.

  “And did you like your presents?”

  Adam smiled. Nicole had given him the latest detective novel by his favorite author, and Clare had knitted him an incredible fisherman’s sweater. He couldn’t even begin to guess how many hours it had taken her to complete it.

  “They were wonderful.” His compliment encompassed both of his dinner companions, and a becoming flush spread over Clare’s cheeks.

  His response obviously satisfied Nicole, too. “I guess we did okay, huh, Clare?”

  She smiled. “I guess we did.”

  Nicole turned back to Adam. “So do you have to work tonight?”

  “Not unless someone calls.”

  “Good. Then we can play a game before I do my homework. You’re supposed to have games at parties.”

  Adam grinned. “I don’t think I’ll be very good at pin the tail on the donkey.”

  She gave him a what-planet-are-you-from? look. “Dad, that is prehistoric! Nobody does stuff like that anymore. I borrowed a game from Candace that we played at her slumber party. It’s called Revelation.”

  He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “How does it work?”

  “Well, everyone draws ten cards, and each card has a question. Like, ‘What’s your middle name?’ or ‘What are you most afraid of?’ Stuff like that. And you write your answers down. Then all of the questions get put in a pile, you draw them one by one, and everyone has to guess who wrote what answer. The person who guesses right most often wins.”