Scrapping Plans

by Rebeca Seitz

  Kendra watched cars out the window. “Twist my arm— you’re asking for more shopping time?”

  “I know. I’m a slave driver.”

  “Count me in too,” Tandy said. “Maybe we can even get Meg to come with us next time. You know, if Jamison will watch the kids. Speaking of which, I’m worried about her. Don’t you think she’s getting those headaches a little too often?”

  “She told me they’re mostly from dehydration.”

  “I don’t know, Joy. Meg’s a healthy person. She shouldn’t get migraines just from not drinking water for a while, should she?”

  “Well, what else could it be?”

  “I don’t know.” Kendra pulled her legs into the seat to sit cross-legged. “All I know is just about every time I see her, she’s rubbing her temples or reaching for a bottle of aspirin.”

  “I hadn’t noticed it that much,” Joy admitted. “I’ve been so caught up in this baby thing—”

  “As well you should be.” Tandy reached over the seat and patted Joy’s shoulder. “I may be making a mountain out of a molehill. I’ll talk to her tonight after dinner and see if she’s been to see the doctor.”

  “Let me know what she says.”

  “You bet.”

  * * *

  “SO YOU’RE GOING to be a dad.” Clay grabbed one end of the golf club with his left hand, the other end with his right. He lifted the club over his head, pulling it back and forth to warm and stretch his muscles. “Think you’re ready?”

  Scott did some stretching of his own, holding a Big Bertha driver over his head. “You mean to tell me there’s a way to get ready for this?”

  “Probably not. I meant, have you read all the books, figured out what’s going to happen in the delivery room, that kind of thing?”

  “Not yet. I figure I have seven months ahead of me. Plenty of time to read and prepare.”

  Darin pulled a 3-wood from his bag and walked up to the amateur tee. “You better enjoy those seven months. I’ve had buddies become dads before. This,” he waved a hand to encompass the course laid out before them, “will be a thing of your past pretty soon.” He knelt and drove a tee into the ground.

  “Nah. I’m sure Joy’s having a boy, so it’ll be important to introduce him to the world of golf at the earliest possible age.”

  They fell silent as Darin took a couple of practice swings, then addressed his ball. Rearing back, he brought the club down, swung his shoulders and hips, keeping his head level all the while, and made contact.

  The ball went sailing high into the air.

  Clay whistled low. “Man, you’ve been working on your swing. That was pretty.”

  Darin waited until his ball settled about ten yards from the green. “Thanks.” He sauntered off the tee.

  “You been to golf school and not tell me?” Clay climbed the one-foot hill and took his place between the markers.

  “Nope. Just read a Golf Digest article about common mistakes in a swing. Guess it took.”

  Clay addressed his ball, following the same motion as Darin, but his ball shot left rather than straight. “Hooked it,” he muttered.

  “You’re still using that right hand too much,” Scott advised.

  “I know, I know. Get up here and see if baby news has rattled your swing at all.”

  Scott climbed the mound and settled his ball on a bright blue tee. “Watch and learn boys.” He settled into his stance, cast a final glance at the flag flying above the hole 214 yards away, then focused on his ball and swung.

  The little white dot sailed through the air, landing with a short hop and roll on the green to rest not ten feet from the hole.

  “That’s it, Darin. We’ve got to get out here more often. We’re going to get schooled by an old daddy.” He slapped Scott on the back as they walked back to the golf cart.

  “An old daddy who’s heading out of the country in a few weeks.”

  “What?” Darin sat down in the cart.

  “Joy’s got it in her head she needs to see her birth country, or something like that, so we’re planning a trip to China next month. Nothing’s set in stone yet, but you know how it is when Joy gets something in her head. We’ll probably have tickets purchased before we go to bed tonight.”

  “Wow, that’s intense.” Scott pressed the gas and the cart shot forward. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know.” Clay grabbed the side of the cart as they cut across the fairway toward his errant ball. “I just thought women who were expecting shouldn’t be traveling and all. And won’t it stress her out to see the orphanage and stuff?”

  “What is this, 1979?” Scott shook his head, bringing the cart to a halt by a stand of trees. “I’m sure it will be fine, but we’ll check with her doctor just in case.”

  Clay nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

  “Knowing Joy though, she’s already read fourteen books on the early stages of pregnancy and knows how many breaths per minute she should take to grow the optimum child. I love the woman dearly, but I have never met anyone in my life who plans things to the detail she does.”

  The guys chuckled as they exited the cart and began scanning the area for the telltale white. “Here it is.” Darin picked up the ball and threw it back out onto the fairway. “Wow, that was a pretty stiff wind.”

  “Oh, so that’s how we’re going to play this.” Scott swigged his Diet Coke. “Okay, I see how it is.”

  Clay pulled an 8-iron from his bag and took off for the ball. “Hey, not all of us have twenty hours a week to golf and call it work.”

  “And I have to pay for you not choosing a career that allowed business meetings on the golf course?”

  “We can’t all be realtors. This town’s got to eat, you know.”

  Darin and Scott sat in the cart and waited for Clay to make his stroke before heading off for their own swings.

  Two strokes by Darin and Clay and one stroke by Scott later, they piled back into the cart to drive to the second hole.

  “Seriously, man, not to beat a dead horse, but has it sunk in you’re about to have a little one running around calling you Daddy?”

  Scott steered the cart up a short incline and over a wooden bridge. “Sure it has. We’ve been trying for this for over a year. I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

  “Oh, you’ll believe it all right.” Darin nodded. “Just wait until you haven’t had a whole night’s sleep in two months and you’d give your entire life savings for just twenty-four hours of no crying, feeding, or changing.”

  Scott twisted in his seat to glance back at Darin. “How do you know so much about this?”

  “I have a sister. She has kids. Lots of them.” Darin motioned to the cart path. “Watch where you’re going.”

  Scott turned back and jerked the wheel to keep from running off the path. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “Maybe we should save kid talk until we get to the clubhouse.”

  “I’ll amen that.” They came to a stop, and Clay stepped out of the cart. “Tandy told me the other night that she thinks it’d be great if we started trying to have kids. I think the woman has lost her mind.”

  “You haven’t even been married a year.” Scott propped a foot on the front of the cart.

  “Don’t tell me, tell her.”

  Darin laughed. “Man, that’s tough.”

  “Don’t laugh.” Clay pointed the business end of his club at Darin. “You’re marrying her sister. And those two do everything together.”

  Darin’s mouth closed faster than a catfish on a wriggling worm.

  Not another word was said regarding children until they got to the clubhouse.

  Twenty -Two

  The sun had long since gone to bed when the various limbs of the Sinclair family tree—including Daddy and Zelda, who’d arrived not a half hour earlier—sat down to dinner at Joy’s massive dining room table.

  Joy surveyed the elegant
array. Tall taper candles flickered from glass holders, which stood at attention in a march down the center of the table. They alternated in baby blue, soft pink, pale green, and yellow. The playful notes of Handel danced around the room, flowing in and out of the lighthearted banter across the white linen table cloth. Joy sighed, utterly content.

  “Hey, Joy, have you two thought through names for the little one yet?” Jamison picked up a bowl of green beans and helped himself to a spoonful.

  Joy cut her eyes at Scott. “That depends on which of us you ask.”

  “I think Scott Jr. if it’s a boy, and Scotty if it’s a girl.”

  The sisters groaned. “You can’t be serious,” Kendra said. “Scotty? For Joy’s daughter? That sounds more like a name for a kid of mine, who would inevitably be a tomboy.”

  “That’s what I keep telling him.” Joy cut her pork and speared a bite with the sterling silver fork she’d had since the day she married. “I love Madeline, Isabella, or Abigail for a little girl. I’m having a harder time picking out a boy name.”

  “I like Abigail!” Meg was cutting pieces for Hannah, who sat in a booster chair at her side. “We could call her Abby.”

  Tandy buttered a roll. “Yeah, but Isabella sounds so romantic.” She batted her eyes at Clay across the table.

  Clay grinned. “Joy, we get to use Isabella. You can keep Abigail.”

  “Okay, if you’re going to steal my names, I’m not sharing anymore.” Joy affected a mock injured tone. “Let’s talk about Daddy and Zelda instead. You two want to share with the rest of the family what happened down in Florida?”

  Zelda’s face heated to the shade of a ripe tomato in June. “Let’s just say we worked things out.”

  Daddy reached to her from his position at head of the table and held her hand. “And thank the good Lord for that miracle.”

  “Hear, hear.” Scott held his glass of water up and each family member followed suit. “To happy times in the family.”

  “To happy times,” they echoed.

  Joy chewed her pork and took in the faces of her family sitting around the dining room table. God had blessed them, no doubt. Clay and Tandy with their happy marriage—even if it did take over a decade for them to admit their love for one another. Kendra and Darin planning their own wedding this fall. Meg and Jamison with three beautiful children of their own. Daddy and Zelda, together again. And now she and Scott with a baby on the way.

  Life had never been this good for all of them at the same time. Joy took a deep breath and thanked God for His blessings. And hoped her next announcement wouldn’t upset Daddy and Zelda’s applecart.

  She took a deep breath. “While we’re all here together, Scott and I want to let you know we’re planning a trip to China next month. I mentioned it to the sisters already, Daddy, but I wanted you and Zelda to know as well.”

  “To China?” Daddy’s face tensed. “While you’re pregnant? Are you sure that’s wise?”

  Joy nodded and patted the table. “I talked to Dr. Goodman this afternoon on my way back from Nashville, and he says travel in the first trimester and even into the second is fine, so long as I take it easy, nap often, drink lots of water, and take care of myself.”

  She waited through the beat of silence in which all the sisters watched for Daddy’s reaction. She didn’t realize she’d held her breath until its escape caused the candle flame to flicker.

  “All right, then,” Daddy finally said. “I assume you’re going to Changsha?”

  “That’s our plan, yes.” Joy kept her voice small, hoping not to inflict more pain than she’d already caused. “I don’t want to disrespect you or Momma, Daddy.” She reached across the table and laid a hand on Daddy’s tanned arm. “I simply want to be able to tell my child about the country where her mother was born. Do you understand?”

  Daddy’s smile held decades of wisdom and patience. “Of course I do, honey girl. And don’t you worry for a second about anything. Just do me one favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “When you go visit that place where we picked you up, you remember that your momma and I will always be thankful to China for giving us a beautiful little girl.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked, feeling them fall down her face. “Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “Thank you.”

  “Aunt Joy, what’s for dessert?” James’s tinny kid voice cut through the seriousness of the moment.

  Joy turned and smiled through her tears. “We’re having good, old-fashioned ice cream sundaes. How does that sound?”

  “Oh, yum!” James bounced in his chair. “With cherries and everything?”

  “Yes, with cherries and everything. Will you help me make them when we’re finished with dinner?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Me too, me too, Aunt Joy,” Savannah begged. “I wanna make sundaes.”

  “Absolutely, Savannah. You two will be my helpers. Now be sure to eat up your green beans so you can have some ice cream!”

  Both children dug into their green beans with newfound excitement.

  Meg snagged Joy’s gaze and mouthed, Thank you.

  Joy nodded, then turned to Kendra. “Settled on more wedding details yet?”

  Kendra looked at Darin. “We’re thinking maybe a destination wedding.”

  “A what?”

  “You know, where you go off to some island or exotic location and get married?”

  Tandy joined in. “I thought you were getting married at Grace with gray, white, and red colors?”

  “We thought about that, and I still like that idea. But wouldn’t it be easier if all of us just hop a plane to the islands or something?”

  Daddy set his fork down. “You’d rob Stars Hill of seeing you two get married?”

  “Not exactly. We would have a reception when we got back and show the video of the wedding.”

  Daddy shook his head, but he was smiling. “Of course you’d pick an out-of-the-ordinary way to get married. I’m surprised none of us saw this coming.”

  “Did you have a particular island in mind?” Joy sipped her water.

  “We’ve been looking at St. Thomas.”

  “In the Virgin Islands?”

  “It’s just a thought right now. We have a few weeks before we need to make a firm decision.”

  “Well, I’m totally in favor of jetting off to the islands for a few days.” Meg steered a spoonful of carrots into Hannah’s open mouth. “That sounds like heaven on earth with all this cold outside.”

  Zelda picked a roll from the bread basket. “Darin, what does your family say about this?”

  “Keep in mind, my family’s not nearly as large as this one, so it’s not such a logistical nightmare. They love the idea, but they’re cool whether we stay in Stars Hill or go to the islands. My parents will probably be the only ones from my side of the family to come since it would cost a fortune for my sister to get all her kids on a plane.”

  Kendra looked around the room. “So what do you guys think? Want to go to the islands this fall?”

  Tandy slapped the top of the table. “I vote yes.”

  Joy nodded. “Me too—provided I can take a newborn on the plane.”

  “Daddy?”

  Daddy looked at Zelda, who shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Then it’s decided. We’re getting married in St. Thomas!”

  “I’ve got to find a new bathing suit!” Tandy turned to Clay. “And trunks for you, and island wear for the both of us. How long will we be there?”

  “I did a little research on the Internet, and Darin and I will need to be on the island a full twenty-four hours before we can get our marriage license. So I’m thinking we’ll go down three days before the wedding, get the license the following day, go to the beach with everybody the next day, and get married that fourth day.”

  Meg clapped her hands. “Ooh! The beach! I’ll bet the beaches are gorgeous in the Virgin Islands.”

  “They are. Megan’s Bay is ra
ted as the fifth-best beach in the world.”

  “We’re definitely going there then.” Meg handed Hannah her Sippy cup.

  “Oh, yeah. And there’s this gorgeous little church, St. Frederick’s. It’s over on the resident side of the island. I’ll call and see if we can get married there.” Kendra clapped her hands. “This is going to be so fun!”

  Joy put a pat of butter on her potato. “Do we get to wear island dresses and straw hats?”

  “Wouldn’t that be perfect? Let’s do that! I hadn’t even thought of what you would wear in the wedding. I’ll bet Sara can find us island dresses.”

  “We’ll go down and see her tomorrow.”

  “Forget the wedding. Let’s get to the important part,” Clay cut in. “Darin, where’s the honeymoon?”

  Darin grinned. “We found this resort on another island, Virgin Gorda. The resort is Little Dix Bay. Looks perfect from the Internet pictures, and it gets great ratings. I think we’re going there. I’ve got to call and check dates and rates.”

  Zelda sipped her wine. “A baby and a wedding! This is going to be an exciting year.”

  Twenty-Three

  I’m running down a hallway, but I cannot get anywhere. Doors are on either side of me, the kind you see in a mental ward—rectangles of glass on their upper halves with thin lines of wire that make a checkerboard pattern and prevent anyone from breaking the glass and escaping.

  The floor is slippery and I’m not wearing shoes. Only socks. I can’t seem to gain purchase on the tile that’s been buffed to a shine. Fluorescent lights overhead are spaced about a foot apart, their hum growing louder every second.

  I know the switch is at the end of the hallway, though I have no idea how I know this. The knowledge is of no use at any rate because, no matter how quickly I pump my legs, the switch seems to move further and further away.

  My feet finally decide not to cooperate any further and I fall forward, throwing hands out to break my fall, turning my head to prevent a broken nose. I squeeze my eyes shut against the image of a hard white floor rushing to greet me.