“Nathan’s whistling?”
“Yes. It was a Sunday, and your mother had taken him to church earlier. He was whistling ‘In the Garden.’” She smiled and looked at Betty, her bright eyes dancing. Then she began to sing. “And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own. And the joy we share, as we tarry there, none other has ever known.” She smiled. “I knew the song when I was a little girl, but I had forgotten. You see, I hadn’t been to church in a very long time, and as Nathan whistled that song, I started thinking that before I took those pills, I should try just once going back to church, to see if I could get rid of that miserable loneliness. That night was the first time I went back to church in twenty years.”
Barry’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t kid about a thing like this.” She clapped her gnarled hands together. “And I found such warmth there. There were people my age and they invited me to sing in the senior adult choir, and they made me a soloist.” She threw her hands over her heart in a flourish. “Can you imagine? They showed me true, genuine love. Within a week, I had accepted Christ, and my whole life changed.” Beaming, she clapped her hands as if she couldn’t believe her fortune. “And then we started traveling and we went to Branson, and oh, I just had a glorious time. And my life has been full and busy ever since. Why, even today, this first Christmas without Samuel, I was too busy to get down. Some of us worked at the soup kitchen downtown, and we gave out food to the poor. It was just such a blessing.”
“You see,” Betty said to Barry, “you think your brother hasn’t contributed anything, that he doesn’t have a purpose. But you’re wrong.”
“I led three people to Christ today at that soup kitchen,” the woman said. “Now don’t you see that that’s Nathan’s fruit, too? If God hadn’t used his whistling to draw my heart to him, then I could have never led anyone else’s heart.”
Barry was stunned. In Nathan’s seemingly unproductive life, he had probably borne more fruit than Barry ever had. It was just what he needed to hear, the best Christmas present he could have had. He thanked Millie and hugged her.
When he had finished crying with his mother and thanking her for what she had shown him, he walked back out into the prayer garden where Tory was sitting in the rocking chair, soaking in the same peace that Nathan had given him all those years. Tory needed it, he thought. She’d had a rough few months. She hadn’t had much time to rest her emotions or her fears, but now she was leaning back, her eyes closed, as she rocked next to Nathan’s wheelchair. As he got closer, he saw that her hand was on Nathan’s arm. He didn’t think he had ever seen her touch him before.
Tory opened her eyes as Barry sat down on the other side of Nathan, pulled his chair up, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against his brother’s face. He wondered if, on some level, Nathan could tell he’d been crying. “You’re quite a guy, aren’t you, Nathan? You have secrets.”
Nathan just kept whistling. Barry began to sing. “And he walks with me and he talks with me.” Nathan changed his tune and picked up “In the Garden.”
He felt Tory watching him cry with his head pressed against his brother’s forehead. “Tory, he’s probably responsible—directly or indirectly—for more people coming to Christ than I’ve ever been. Haven’t you, Nathan? We’re going to get to heaven and you’ll have those crowns lined up, and I’ll have some shrunken little baseball cap.”
He laughed softly through his tears, and started singing along with his brother again.
CHAPTER Sixty-Seven
On the way home, as the children slept in the backseat, Barry reached across the seat to hold Tory’s hand. She unhooked her seat belt and scooted across to the middle of the seat. The gesture moved him to tears. It had been so long since she had been affectionate with him. He grabbed the middle belt, hooked it over her lap, then pulled her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like old times, when she had admired and respected and loved him, when she had looked up to him as her protector. Now he felt like her protector again.
His tears rolled freely with the thought of the grace even she had given him, and unable to see through his tears, he pulled over to the side of the road. She looked expectantly up at him. He put his hand on her stomach again and felt the baby move, and realized that all through the day she had been feeling that evidence of the live baby inside of her, moving and bucking and flipping, reminding her that even though she wasn’t whole or perfect, she was still a child.
He pressed his head against hers, as he had done with Nathan, and she wiped his tears. “Can you ever forgive me for the last few months?” he asked.
“I’ve forgiven you. And the baby forgives you. You were wrong, but I think I understand why you were wrong.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Thank you for being the kind of mother who would fight to protect your baby,” he whispered. “I’m proud of you. Very, very proud. A year ago, I don’t know if you would have fought this hard, but I guess that’s God’s timing, isn’t it?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“And if it takes the rest of my life, I’m going to restore your faith and respect in me.”
“It’s not going to take that long,” she whispered.
“How long, then?”
She smiled. “It happened a couple of hours ago,” she said, “when I read that story you had written. When I heard you and Nathan whistling. When I watched you talking to him.”
He tried to stop his tears. “I want the very best for our baby,” he said, “just like I wanted it for Nathan. I can’t stand not to have the best for them.”
“But we have to let God decide what’s best.”
“I know,” he said. “And tonight, he showed me that I can trust him with my child. He has things under control.”
CHAPTER Sixty-Eight
Back on Cedar Circle, Cathy and Steve finally found themselves alone after a hectic Christmas Day with all four children, since their father had given up his time with them so he could go skiing for the holidays. Annie had gone out with her boyfriend, and Rick had agreed to work a holiday shift at the grocery store. Tracy had gone to stay with her maternal grandparents.
That had left only Mark at home, until Brenda had come over and invited him to spend the night with Daniel.
“Yeah,” Mark said on a laugh. “Like you really want to spend extra time with me.”
Brenda and Mark hadn’t had any major incidents since the fire, and Cathy cautiously suspected that things had improved.
“Well, I haven’t seen you in a week,” Brenda said. “I don’t want your brain to stagnate during the holidays.”
“So what are we gonna do? Read poetry?”
“No, I rented your favorite movie about that kid with the BB gun.”
“A Christmas Story? Oh, Mom, can I? I love that flick, and I haven’t gotten to watch TV in weeks.”
Cathy knew the invitation was designed to give Steve and her time alone. “Brenda, are you sure?”
“Yes,” she insisted. “Daniel got a new computer game he wants to show him, too.”
“You promise you won’t make me do history or anything?” Mark asked, pulling his shoes on.
“On Christmas?” Cathy asked. “Come on, Mark.”
“Hey, Mom, she’s tricky. She had us at the grocery store figuring out price-per-ounce in our heads the other day while we were getting stuff to make gingerbread houses. It took me and Daniel three aisles to figure out it was school.”
“Daniel and me,” Brenda corrected. “I won’t trick you into anything tonight. I promise.”
Cathy packed Mark an overnight bag, then tried to blink back her emotion as he and Brenda left the house together. Cathy watched through the screen door as they crossed the street.
Steve put his arms around her. “Hey, why the tears?”
“Did you see that?” she asked. “They like each other now. They’re voluntarily spending extra time together.”
&nbs
p; “It’s all those prayers,” he said. He pulled her to her couch and sat down, still holding her. She felt a greater sense of well-being than she had felt in years.
“So are you finally ready to exchange presents now that all the chaos is behind us?” she asked him.
“I guess so,” he said. “Yeah, I think it’s time.”
She got up, leaned behind the Christmas tree, and grabbed the big, flat present she had wrapped for him. “Be careful,” she said, “it’s fragile.”
He tore into the paper and saw the beautiful portrait she’d taken of Tracy, sitting in Cathy’s office with a kitten to her cheek. She’d had it set in an elaborate gold frame and matted with colors that matched his living room.
He was amazed. “When did you take this?”
“When you were camping with the boys,” she said. “I just thought she looked so precious that I wanted you to have it.”
The rims of his eyes reddened, and he leaned it back against the post. “Well, that just reinforces it.”
“Reinforces what?”
He patted the space next to him. “Come sit down.”
She plopped down on the couch.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said.
She closed her eyes. “I’ll sit here patiently while you go to get it.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to. I’ve been carrying it with me all day.”
Her grin faded, and she opened her eyes. “Carrying what with you?” she asked.
He reached into his jeans pocket and closed his fist around it. “Now, if you don’t want this, promise me you won’t run screaming. Promise you’ll still hang around with me, no hard feelings.”
She couldn’t imagine what it was. “Okay. I promise.”
He opened his hand, revealing a diamond engagement ring. It took her breath away. Her face went slack. “Steve…”
“Cathy, I know it’s not going to be easy with the kids and everything, and maybe we need a long engagement just to prepare everybody…but don’t say no just yet.”
She could feel the blood draining out of her face. “I wasn’t going to say no. I was going to ask you if you were crazy.”
He smiled. “I could say something hokey like, ‘Crazy in love.’ It would be the truth.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Steve…” This time the word came on a rush of awe.
He kept talking, as if to prevent her from turning him down. “Plus I promised the boys that I wouldn’t marry you until they were okay with it…but I never thought I’d feel like this again.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears. “I never thought I would, either,” she whispered.
His mouth trembled at the corners. “I love you, Cathy, and I want you to marry me. I realize we need to take it slow. There’s a lot to work out. A lot to get ready for. A lot to prepare the kids for.”
“You have no idea how much.” She put her hand over her mouth and began to laugh softly. “You’d be getting the short end of the stick,” she said. “You’d get all my kids, and you’d have to give so much more.”
“And you’d get Tracy,” he said, “and me. I’m as bad as three kids, at least.”
She laughed, but then her expression melted into worry. “But are you sure it’s not just the emotion of Christmas? The festive feeling? The sense of peace on earth and goodwill toward men? Turkey does have that chemical that gives you a sense of tranquility. Maybe it caused minor brain damage. Are you sure you want to commit right now?”
He laughed as if he couldn’t believe she would suggest such a thing. “So I must be brain damaged if I want to marry you?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, this can’t be real.”
“Cathy, I’ve known you were the right one for me since last summer when we were going around putting out flyers on windows for Joseph. I want to marry you. I want to take you on with all your problems and all your kids. Will you even consider it?”
“Will I consider it?” She almost screamed with laughter. “Of course I’ll consider it. Let’s see.” She tapped her face, pretending to consider it. “Okay, I’ve considered it. Yes!”
They both laughed as he slid the ring on. “Look at this ring!” she whispered. “It’s so beautiful.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and she found herself still chuckling as he did. It wasn’t funny, not at all. But crying didn’t seem right, and her emotions were overflowing. He was grinning, too, as they broke the kiss. They both crumbled into joyful laughter as they basked in the awareness of what they had just done.
CHAPTER Sixty-Nine
In León, Sylvia was beginning to feel better about her time with the baby. God had brought her into her life for a reason, and maybe it had nothing to do with her. Maybe it was for the child, who needed someone to care for her while her mother was recovering. She knew she had been an instrument, and she had begun to feel thankful. But the depression didn’t lift entirely until she got the phone call from her daughter in North Dakota. “Mom, you’re going to be a grandma.”
“What?” she asked. “Sarah! You don’t mean—”
“No, not yet,” her daughter said. “I’m not pregnant yet. But we’re ready to start a family. I wanted you to pray for us.”
Her heart shot to the sky, and she realized that even though motherhood wasn’t in her future, grandmotherhood might be, and that was an even better prospect.
“Harry!” she bellowed across the house. “Harry, come quick!”
Harry came running from the other room. “What?” he asked. “What’s going on? What is it?”
“It’s Sarah on the phone!”
“Is she hurt? Is everything okay?”
She was crying and laughing at the same time. “Oh, Harry, they want to start a family.”
He began to laugh with relief that they weren’t in a crisis. “See?” he said. “It’s not over for us yet. God may have babies in our future.”
Together, they hugged and laughed, and Sylvia felt energy and purpose seeping back into her body.
CHAPTER Seventy
The birth pangs began coming sooner than they were supposed to, in March instead of May. Tory prayed that they would stop, that the baby would have more time to grow and develop. But the contractions kept coming. She had been having the preparatory Braxton-Hicks contractions for the last two months, but these were different. Hard contractions racked her every ten minutes, ripping through Tory’s back and cutting through her abdomen.
“We’ve got to get you to the hospital,” Barry said.
“No, it’s impossible! I’m not due for another two months. It’s too soon.”
“But Tory, you can’t just hold it back. If you’re in labor, the baby is going to come whether you want it to or not.”
“I’m not going,” she cried. “The baby is not ready.”
But then her water broke and the contractions got closer together, and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. She heard Barry on the phone, talking to the doctor in a panicked voice.
He came running back through the house. Tory was in the clutches of a contraction.
“Honey, the doctor says you need to get in right away. He said that babies with Down’s Syndrome are often premature.”
“Not this early!” she shouted.
“Honey, there’s a big danger of infection, since your water’s broken. But if there’s any hope of stopping the contractions, they can do it at the hospital, not here.”
She grabbed his shirt. “Do you think they can stop them?”
“I don’t know. But our baby’s best chance is there. We have to go.”
Finally she agreed to get up. She was drenched with perspiration. “What about the kids?” she asked.
“I already called Cathy,” he said. “She and Annie are coming over to watch them.”
She heard the door open and heard Cathy calling out. Tory made her way into the living room before she was kicked with another contraction. She leaned against the wall, her eyes s
queezed shut.
“I’ve got to get her into the car,” Barry said. “Help me, Cathy.”
Cathy put one arm around her shoulders and Barry took the other and they carried Tory to the car. Annie stood back, watching, horrified. “That’s it,” the teenager said. “I am, like, never having children.”
“Honey, you’re going to be all right,” Cathy told Tory. “Just hang in there. I’ll call Brenda and she and I will be at the hospital soon. I’ll let Annie take care of the kids.”
Tory couldn’t answer. Barry ran around the car and got in the driver’s seat.
“Be careful, Barry,” Cathy said. “Drive carefully.”
He was anything but careful as he pulled out of the driveway, spinning his tires and burning rubber as he headed to the hospital.
It was a long night. Tory fought the pain for hours, begging and pleading with the doctors to stop the labor so the baby wouldn’t be born too soon and die. She knew the baby already had too many battles to fight. She didn’t want this to be one of them. Her lungs probably weren’t fully developed, and her other major organs might be too weak to make it through.
But in her heart, she knew that the baby’s time had come. Her water had broken, and the delivery was imminent.
Barry didn’t leave her side. He stayed with her, sitting on the edge of the bed, mopping her face and helping her through the contractions. She drifted into a light sleep between pains, but on the edge of her consciousness she heard her husband praying over her.
“Lord, save the baby,” he whispered. “Please don’t let anything happen to it. I know I deserve it because of all the things I’ve said and all the things I’ve wanted. But if you’ll let her pull through, I’ll love her just like I love my other two. We’ll fight all these battles together. Please, Lord, let the baby be born alive.”
The prayer gave Tory the energy to fight and the peace to accept whatever was to come. She didn’t know what God had in mind for them, whether it was something easy or terribly hard, whether it would take a lifetime of struggling or just the next few hours. She had no idea, but she gave it up to God as the contractions grew closer and closer together.
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