Jane smiled as she watched her niece. Jessica would be a great mom someday, and no doubt that day would be here before she knew it. It was hard to believe Jessica was already seventeen. It seemed to Jane like just yesterday she’d been singing karaoke at Jessica’s twelfth birthday party.
“Time flies,” she said as Jessica returned to the patio.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about how much you’ve grown up, how fast time goes—except when your husband is out of the country and you’re five and a half months pregnant.” Jane patted her round tummy. “Then it slows waaaay down.”
Jessica looked at her with concern. “Don’t you think you should lie down and take a nap? I’ll stay out with the little girls. You go inside and sleep for a couple of hours.”
“You sound like Grandma—and that nurse I had at the hospital,” Jane said, laughing as much as her constricted airflow allowed these days. “You’ve got the bossy part down pat.”
“Not bossy enough,” Jessica muttered, sinking into the chair beside her. “If I were, you’d be in bed, not out here on the patio. That’s why they call it bed rest, you know.”
“I know.” Jane nodded. “But it’s the rest part that’s important, and I’m doing that. Besides, I feel so much better when I’m out here. I’ll go crazy if I have to stay indoors the next two months. Out in the yard I can see the garden and the trees—” She paused mid-sentence, eyes glued to a peach tree laden with buds. She hadn’t gotten around to pruning it, and when the fruit began to grow, some of the branches were going to be overburdened. Her gaze shifted to the shed, and her fingers flexed involuntarily as she imagined the pruning shears in her hands.
Jessica noticed. “Don’t even think about doing yard work. I forbid it. I’m going to drive down to the store and buy a new padlock for that shed so you can’t get to your tools.”
“Bossy and controlling.” Jane grimaced. “You’ve definitely got the traits to go into nursing.”
“Bet you don’t know any nurses who give pedicures,” Jessica said. “How about finishing those toes?”
“You mean I’ve still got them?” Jane said in mock seriousness. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my feet.” She raised one leg as high as it would go—not far at all—straining to see her half-painted toenails.
“What’ll it be today?” Jessica held up a sheet of decals. “Hearts? Flowers?”
Jane lowered her leg. “Do you have any stars?” She leaned her head back, a wistful smile on her face as she stared up at the cloudy sky. “I miss them. It’s been so long since I’ve used the telescope.”
“It better be a lot longer,” Jessica said. “Tell me you’re not thinking of going up on the roof anytime soon.”
“Oh, I think about it all the time,” Jane said, longing in her voice. “Then I get up off the couch and remember how much effort just a simple movement like that takes.”
“I’ll look at the stars for you next week,” Jessica said. “I should be able to see tons at camp.”
“Lucky.” Jane nodded her agreement. “Are you all packed?”
“I was packed before I came. My carry-on bag had stuff to wear at your house. The suitcase I checked has my backpack in it.”
“I’m so glad you get to go.” Jane knew the past few months had been difficult for Jessica. Her parents were going through a tough time, and this sudden move in the middle of her junior year of high school couldn’t be easy.
“I wish Mom could have come too,” Jessica said. “We always wanted to go to camp together, but . . .”
All of your little brothers came instead, Jane silently finished Jessica’s thought. For all the effort she and Peter had had to go through to have a baby, it seemed the opposite for Caroline. Though she and Ryan had planned to be done having babies, they just kept coming.
For the past couple of days, Jane had the recurring thought that perhaps Caroline was going to come visit as well, though not to camp but to stay with her. Jane had continued her prayers, asking for the help she needed, and she still felt every reassurance that everything would work out. And, of course, it had worked out so far.
First, Jessica had flown in a few days early and had been able to help Jane with Maddie and also with Allison, the niece Jane had committed to babysitting months ago. Allison’s parents were on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Israel and Egypt and had farmed their children out to various family members for three weeks. It was unfortunate that the second day of their trip had been the day Jane ended up in the hospital with preterm labor.
But even from a distance, Caroline had come to the rescue, changing Jessica’s ticket and flying her out that night. But with the backpack trip only two days away, Jane knew something else had to happen soon, and she felt strongly that the something might be her sister. Along with the reassurance that all would be well, the Spirit was also whispering to her that there was something she could do to help someone too—even having to rest as she did.
Caroline was the only one Jane could think of who needed help, that shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, as she tried to hang on to her marriage and make it through an extremely trying time. Jane’s prayers now included a plea that she might be prepared and know how to help, what to say and when to listen. Though she was concerned about her sister, Jane was grateful for the distraction from her own problems. Between worrying about Peter and anxiety over their unborn babies, she’d dissolve into a ball of nerves if she wasn’t careful.
“What are you going to do Thursday morning if you don’t have any help?” Jessica asked, pulling Jane from her thoughts.
“I will have help.” Jane gave Jessica a reassuring smile. “Trust me. Some things you just know.”
“Wish I knew it,” Jessica muttered.
“Hello, anyone home?” a high, falsely bright voice called through the gate.
Jessica jumped up to see who it was while Jane’s mind raced with memory. She hadn’t heard that voice in—
A blur of red—hair, sweater, leather pants and boots—stepped through the gate as Jessica pulled it open. Jane’s mouth dropped in astonishment then curved in a smile.
“Tara!” she exclaimed as she struggled to get up from the chaise.
Tara took a hesitant step then practically bounded across the yard. She stopped a foot in front of Jane and stared at her stomach.
“You’re huge. What has Peter done to you?”
Jane laughed and threw her arms open, engulfing Tara in an awkward hug. “I see you haven’t changed at all. You still tell it like it is.”
“And it is, Sister. Holy cow. You look like you swallowed a cow.”
“That’s not very nice,” Jessica said. Arms folded and a frown on her face, she stood beside them. “Aunt Jane, you shouldn’t be up. You need to lie down.”
“I didn’t swallow a cow,” Jane said, letting Jessica help her back to the chair. “Just a couple of pills that increased our odds of getting pregnant—and having twins.”
“Twins? You’re having more twins? But you’ve already got a set.” Tara took the chair Jessica had been sitting in.
“We have Maddie,” Jane said, the faintest trace of sadness in her voice. “Mark died. It wasn’t very long after Peter and I married.”
“I’m so sorry,” Tara said. Her smile faded, and her bubbly manner seemed to deflate. “I didn’t know. It must have happened after I left for LA.”
“Probably,” Jane said. She could tell Tara was uncomfortable with the sudden change in subject. “Let me introduce you to Maddie. Girls,” she called. “Come here for a minute.” She raised her hand, beckoning Maddie and Allison over.
Maddie poked her head out from the fort at the top of the play structure, waved at her mom, then slid down the slide and ran across the yard to join them.
“This is my daughter, Madison.” Jane pulled her close, kissing the top of her sweaty head. “Maddie, this is Mommy’s friend Tara.”
“Hello.” Madison walked up to Tara and held her hand out.
> Tara shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
“I like your red clothes,” Maddie said, her eyes roving up and down Tara.
“Thank you very much.”
“I have to go now.” Maddie pulled her hand away and spun around. “Allison won’t come down the slide unless I catch her.”
“You have another one?” Tara asked.
“Just borrowed. She’s my niece. And this is another niece, Jessica.” Jane motioned for Jessica to pull up another chair and join them. “She’s here visiting. Her family recently moved.”
“Oh?” Tara turned to Jessica. “Where to?”
“Arizona,” Jessica said stiffly. She shot Jane a look full of questions.
“Tara and I used to work together,” Jane said. “On our lunch hour, we’d share our dating woes over extremely fattening baked goods.”
“Ah . . . orange rolls,” Tara remembered. “Those were the days.”
Not really, Jane thought, glad she’d moved on with her life. But has Tara? She glanced at her friend’s hand, noting the absence of a ring.
“How is California?” she asked.
“Smoggy and crowded,” Tara said.
“Oh.” It wasn’t the answer Jane had anticipated. Knowing Tara, she’d expected to be regaled with an hour’s worth of stories about ritzy events, fabulous parties, and the like. She felt the first inkling that something wasn’t quite right—that perhaps Tara’s dropping by was more than a social visit. But things with Tara had never been predictable. Her lifestyle choices made for a wild ride, and Jane wasn’t one to judge her for that. She’d always felt bad that she couldn’t help Tara figure out the things that would bring her true, lasting happiness.
“Has real estate taken a beating down there like it has here?” Jane asked.
“Worse,” Tara said. She pointed to the lemonade. “May I?”
Jane nodded, and Tara took a Zoo Pals paper cup off the tray and filled it with lemonade.
“So is your job okay?” What if it’s Tara? What if she’s the one you’ve been thinking of who needs your help? No-o. Jane pushed the ridiculous thought aside.
“It was fine,” Tara said. “But then corporate wanted me to fire a bunch of people on my team, and . . .” She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and met Jane’s eyes. “I refused to do it, so I quit.”
“Good for you,” Jane found herself saying. Bad for me? What does this mean? “So are you here visiting?”
“Nope.” Tara shook her head. “I’m here to stay. LA wasn’t the place for me, after all. I’m going to see about getting my old job back, and I’ll find an apartment. Hey, mind if I use your bathroom?” She jumped up, heading for the patio doors.
“Sure,” Jane said. “You remember where it is, I guess.”
When Tara had entered the house, Jessica leaned in close, whispering loudly, “Aunt Jane, she left a suitcase by your gate. I think she’s planning to stay.”
“Of course she is,” Jane said, her lips curving with a speculative smile as the puzzle pieces seemed to fall clearly into place. “A long time ago I told her my door was always open, and I meant it.”
“But you can’t play hostess right now. You have to rest.”
“I plan to,” Jane said.
“But she—she can’t take care of—”
“She’ll have to.” Jane felt the sudden need to laugh out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Jessica asked warily.
“Nothing. Everything.” Jane shook her head and wiped the corner of her eye. “Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways, that’s all.”
Twenty-One
“Thanks for driving Jessica to the ferry,” Jane said, looking up from her spot on the couch between the two little girls snuggled beside her as they watched Cinderella.
“No problem,” Tara said as she walked past Jane and went into the kitchen. She placed three bags of groceries on the counter and returned to the car to get the rest, along with the takeout she’d ordered for dinner. Thanks for doing the grocery shopping too. Buying dinner was so thoughtful of you. You’re the best, Tara. In her head she tacked on a few extra words of praise that would have been nice to hear.
She loaded up both hands then closed the car door with her hip. Of course she was driving her own car too and using up her own gas, because Jane needed her car ready for her next doctor visit.
She’ll probably ask me to drive her there and fill up her Jeep while I’m waiting, Tara thought with no little amount of irritation. She’d been there less than forty-eight hours, and in that time she’d barely had two seconds to herself.
Yesterday, before she had worked up the nerve to ask Jane if she could stay a few days, Jane had asked her if she’d be interested in staying the next eleven weeks while Peter was gone. Of course she’d jumped at the offer—it was even better than the week or two she’d hoped for . . . or so she’d thought.
So much for being the houseguest. Tara set the bags on the step and opened the door. What she needs is a nanny and a maid. She practically tricked me. The old Jane never would have done something like that. Tara had always heard that pregnancy made women wacko, and that certainly seemed the case with Jane. She couldn’t even get up for a glass of water anymore, and she was always putting her hands on her stomach and talking to herself—or rather those things growing inside her.
It was unnerving.
“Did you get pizza?” Jane’s five-year-old and her two-year-old cousin were already sitting at the counter, rummaging through the bags she’d brought in.
“Fruit snacks?” Allison asked.
“Chinese,” Tara said. “It’s better for you.”
“Would you mind fixing the girls some plates?” Jane called from the other room.
“Sure,” Tara called back. She took two plastic, divided plates from the cupboard above the dishwasher. Sure I mind. I would have liked my dinner hot. She began pulling little boxes from the restaurant bag.
“Oooh. Those are cute. Can I have them when you’re done?” Maddie asked.
Tara shrugged. “If you want them.”
“Thank you.” Maddie beamed at her.
“You don’t have to thank me all the time.”
Maddie looked confused. “Please and thank you are the magic words.”
“Never mind,” Tara said. “Just eat your rice.” She plopped an egg roll on each plate next to the rice she’d already scooped out. After taking another plate from Jane’s cupboard, she began serving herself. When she turned back to the counter to get some silverware, she found both girls staring at her.
“What?”
“We haven’t prayed yet,” Maddie said. Allison held her folded arms up as evidence.
“Well, go ahead.” Tara waved her hand at them. “No one is stopping you.”
They continued to stare at her.
“It’s your turn,” Maddie whispered. “You haven’t said a prayer since you got here.”
Tara leaned over the table, close to the little girl’s face. “That’s because I don’t pray.”
Maddie gasped, jumped off her stool, and ran into the other room.
“Fine. Go tattle.” Tara stabbed her fork in the egg roll and took a bite while Allison looked on with big eyes. A minute later Maddie returned to the room.
She climbed up onto the stool, folded her arms, and said a prayer. When she was done, she looked at Tara as if the incident had never happened. “Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” Sometimes she wished Jane’s kid was more like Cadie instead of Miss Manners. It was difficult to be gruff with a five-year-old who was always thanking you.
“Mommy says thank you too,” Maddie added.
Jane. Tara glanced at the open boxes on the counter then reluctantly set her own plate aside to fix one for Jane. She’s got to eat too. When she had it ready, she carried it into the living room where Jane was resting, eyes closed, hands folded over her bulging belly.
Uncertain whether to awaken her, Tara spoke softly. “Jane?”<
br />
She opened her eyes, sat up a little, and accepted the plate from Tara. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Tara could see she meant it, and she felt just a little guilt for her earlier grumbling. She couldn’t help but return Jane’s smile. “Me too.”
* * *
Tara walked into the living room and sank into the nearest chair. “They’re finally asleep.” Little devils. She ran a hand across her cheek, still trying to wipe away the excess slobber from Maddie’s good-night kiss. She’d brushed two sets of teeth, read three bedtime stories, brought in two drinks of water, checked for monsters under the bed, and helped wipe a bottom in the last hour since Jane had asked her to put the girls to bed. Who knew such a simple thing as getting a couple of kids in bed could be so . . . complicated and exhausting?
“Great. Now we can watch a movie. And how about making some popcorn?” Jane said, all enthusiastic.
She’s not tired. She’s been resting all day. Tara glared at her, irritated Jane hadn’t even thanked her or noticed how drained she was. Grumbling under her breath, she hauled herself out of the chair and walked toward the entertainment center. “You certain you’re up to watching one of these?” Tara asked as she glanced through the shelves of Jane’s favorite romance DVDs. She wasn’t sure she could handle it tonight. For some reason, being back in Washington had increased her melancholy and restlessness instead of curing them, and she didn’t know why. But she could almost bet that watching an over-romanced chick flick was not going to remedy the problem.
“Why not?” Jane asked.
“For starters, your husband is seven thousand miles away. And aside from that, you won’t possibly be able to imagine yourself as the heroine looking like you do.”
“Thanks for reminding me how very fat I am right now,” Jane said. “I’d nearly forgotten. It’s been about three hours since you last mentioned it.”
Tara shrugged and said flippantly, “If your friends aren’t honest, who can you count on?”
“Good question,” Jane said. “Speaking of friends and honesty and all, why don’t we pretend it’s old times? Step into my cubicle and talk. We can watch a movie later.”
My Lucky Stars Page 13