Setting the magazine aside, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to doze lightly. Every few minutes she would open her eyes and look at the clock. Ten then twenty then thirty minutes passed with no noise from Maddie’s room.
They must both be asleep. I am so good.
Invigorated by her success, Tara got up and went to the kitchen to start dinner. Tonight she’d make something nice—something besides tacos or spaghetti or burritos. If the little girls didn’t like it, well too bad. She’d tell them it was what she served or nothing. They’d come around.
She was assembling the ingredients for chicken parmesan, angel hair pasta, and a spinach salad when both girls started screaming. Tara set a pot on the counter and ran down the hall. She flung open Maddie’s door and found the girls sitting on Maddie’s bed, each with their mouths open and howling.
“What?” Tara asked. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“My bed is wet,” Maddie wailed. “Allie pottied all over my bed—and me.”
“She did? You did?” Tara stared at Allie, her legs slightly raised over the wide, dark spot on the comforter beneath. “Did your Pull-Up leak?” Tara marched across the room, grabbed each girl by an arm, and hauled them from the bed.
“She’s not wearing one,” Maddie said. “I let her wear my panties—my pretty flowered ones—and she wet them.” Fresh tears fell from Maddie’s eyes.
“Why did you do that?” Tara stepped forward and yanked the blanket off the bed.
“Because,” Maddie said, “you told Allie to put on her big-girl panties, but she doesn’t have any. So I shared.”
“You shared,” Tara repeated. I have to clean this up—seriously? Hands on hips, she frowned at the little girls. Allie stood awkwardly, her legs spread wide, a look of abject misery on her face. Maddie, on the other hand, looked disgusted and angry.
With me, Tara realized. She’s ticked at me.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Tara wagged a finger in her face. “I’m not the one who peed in your bed.”
“Why are you so mean?” Maddie yelled. “I snuggled with Allie ’cause you made her sad, and now my bed is all wet. This is your fault.”
You want to see mean? Tara thought. But the accusation stung. Biting her tongue so she wouldn’t be meaner—and get tattled on to Jane—Tara ignored the girls and began pulling the sheets off. They bore a similar round stain, as did the mattress beneath.
“Great. Just great.” She gathered all the wet bedding, stepped around the girls, and headed for the laundry. “Stay right there,” she ordered. “You’re both going to have a bath.”
Before she could get to the laundry room or start the water running in the tub, the phone began ringing. Tara glanced at the caller ID on the kitchen counter as she walked by. Harrison Medical. As the name registered in her mind, she dropped the laundry and reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tara.” Jane’s voice was tired.
“Are you okay?” Tara asked, trying not to sound worried. Please don’t tell me you’re going to be late. I can’t take another hour. I—
“I’ve got to stay overnight,” Jane said. “They want to monitor the babies for several hours, and I have to take a stress test in the morning.”
You think you’re stressed? “Um—okay,” Tara said. What else could she say? Come home right now? These kids are driving me nuts? Pushing aside her own concerns, she tried to think about what Jane must be dealing with. “Is anything wrong with the babies? Are you having contractions again?”
“Little contractions, but their heartbeats are strong. My doctor’s just being cautious. How are the girls?” Jane asked.
“They’re—” Naked.
Maddie and Allison streaked across the hall and into the bathroom.
So much for staying right where I told them to. Tara imagined their wet, smelly clothes sitting on Maddie’s carpet. “They’re fine. I, uh, I’m getting ready to give them a bath.”
“Oh, did they get really dirty playing outside?” Jane asked.
Tara caught the wistful note in her voice. To Jane, the most difficult thing about bed rest was not being able to work out in her yard.
“They’re pretty dirty,” Tara hedged. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure they’re all clean. I’ll take good care of them.”
“Thanks, Tara. I really appreciate it. I owe you.”
No kidding. “No problem. Feel better, okay?”
They said good-bye and Tara headed down the hall. She entered the bathroom to find both little girls sitting in the tub with no water but about a million toys and a big blob of something pink between them. An empty bubble bath container lay on its side on the floor.
“We waited to start the water,” Maddie said, as if she were the authority here and had taken over the bathing process because Tara was incapable.
I am capable, Tara thought. Just because I messed up on the panties thing . . . She turned the faucet, and as the cold water hit their skin, both girls squealed.
“Sorry,” Tara said in a cheerful voice, feeling slightly better about the mess awaiting her in the other room. She held her hand under the water until it reached the right temperature then sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, a giant mound of strawberry-scented bubbles rising ever higher.
While the girls played, she decided to clean the bathroom. One less thing to do later, she reasoned as she scrubbed out the sink. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t exactly certain what she would do “later” with Jane gone tonight. They’d settled into a familiar routine of eating ice cream and talking about life, a routine that she looked forward to. A hint of loneliness tugged at her heart, but Tara pushed it firmly aside. She was too busy to feel sorry for herself.
Overworked and underpaid . . . just like—Jesus. She thought of the New Testament scriptures she’d been studying the past few days. The missionaries had left her with a copy of the Book of Mormon, but she preferred reading from the four Gospels—as Jane referred to them. There was something about reading of Jesus’s life, the words He spoke, that spoke to her. Again and again she returned to the message from the first Sunday school lesson she’d attended.
He who will lose his life, shall find it.
She hadn’t really tried that yet. It was hard—all this giving and serving and doing unto others. Maybe that’s what impressed her so much and drew her to reading about Jesus. The way He’d continuously given of Himself. She didn’t understand how He could. Or why he would.
The girls laughed and a second later, water splashed over the edge of the tub. Tara turned a reprimanding frown on them. She opened her mouth, intending to scold, but something about the looks on their faces stopped her.
They’re just little. I was little once. Did Mom scold me when I splashed in the tub? Knowing her mother, probably. It was an unhappy thought, one Tara didn’t wish to act out. Surprising herself more than the girls, she cupped a hand under the sink faucet and filled it. “You want to splash, do you?” she asked, tossing the water at the girls.
Maddie’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in a shocked O. Allie laughed and sent another wave over the side of the tub. Tara gasped and jumped back, as if the water had just missed her. It had succeeded in soaking the bath mat, but Tara held back a groan. I’ll just add the mat to the wash I’m already doing.
Pushing the wet rug aside, she knelt beside the tub. She scooped up a handful of bubbles and plopped them on Allie’s head. “Bet I can make you look like Ashton Kutcher when he’s growing a beard.” She proceeded—to Allie’s delight—to sculpt a full bubble beard.
“Would you like one too?” she asked Maddie.
Maddie’s eyes were still huge, and she stared at Tara as if seeing her for the first time. Tara couldn’t blame her. I’ve been impatient and grumpy and . . . What is wrong with me? This is Jane’s daughter. My friend’s child.
“I’m sorry, Maddie. I’m sorry I made Allie cry and your bed got wet.” And for everything else I’ve sai
d or done since I’ve been here.
“That’s okay.” The corners of Maddie’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I forgive you.”
Tara remembered when another little girl had asked her forgiveness, when Ben’s niece had tried to tell her why forgiving others was so very important.
“Thank you, Maddie.” Tara felt another lump in her throat and wondered if she was developing some condition she ought to have looked at.
Her symptoms—the frequent inability to swallow and watery eyes—were troubling.
Twenty-Seven
Maddie rested her head on the counter, an inch from the newspaper Tara was trying to read. “I miss Allison.”
“Me too,” Tara said. She didn’t miss the messes, but she’d been surprised to discover the way Maddie latched on to her now that her cousin was gone. From the minute she came home from kindergarten every day, until she finally dropped off to sleep at night, Maddie followed Tara around, seeking constant attention. Jane did what she could to entertain her daughter, reading stories, and playing those never-ending games, but Maddie was like Jane, always wanting to be outside. She wanted action.
“Want to play ball?”
“Not really.” Tara scanned the want ads. Reading the newspaper classifieds wasn’t nearly as efficient as looking for jobs online, but she checked every day just to make sure she hadn’t missed something. Since she’d had to partially replace her wardrobe—she couldn’t begin to purchase substitutes for everything she’d packed up and promised not to wear—her bank account had shrunk even more. She worried that if she didn’t have a job by the time Peter came home, she wouldn’t have enough to pay first and last month’s rent and a security deposit, let alone anything left to tide her over for a month or so until she had a regular paycheck.
“How about jump rope?”
“Nope.” At five, Maddie had not yet mastered jump rope. She had mastered jumping up and down, singing loudly, and snapping the rope repeatedly—on Tara’s arm, shoulder, and head. Once had been more than enough for that game.
“Tea party in the playhouse?” Maddie’s voice was pleading. “We can pretend the prince is coming again.”
Tara set the paper aside and looked down at the little girl. “You know what you need?”
“A sister or a brother to play with?” Maddie suggested.
“Yes,” Tara said. “That’s exactly what you need.” So this is why people have more than one kid—to keep the first one from driving them nuts. “Lucky for you, you’re going to get both.”
“I know. I know.” Maddie excitedly bounced up and down on her toes. “And Mommy says I can help feed them bottles, and I can rock them, and when they get bigger they’ll play outside with me.”
“I’m sure they will.” Tara imagined Jane in her element, outside with a spade in her hand, the flower beds bursting and children running over every inch of the yard.
“Will you play with me now? We can have real cookies outside.” Maddie put on her most hopeful expression. “I’ll let you have the china cup,” she offered, as if that were enticement beyond what Tara could resist.
“All right,” Tara said, holding her hands up in surrender as she got off the stool. “Tell you what. You can have the china teacup if I get to answer the playhouse door when the prince arrives.”
“Deal.” Maddie’s grin was huge.
Tara grabbed a package of Oreos from the cupboard while Maddie skipped down the hall to get her play dishes. When she returned, they filled the tiny teapot with water then headed outside. It wasn’t as warm as the previous day, but the wind wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been last night. Tara glanced up at ominous clouds overhead. “I think this had better be a quick tea party, unless we want to get soaked.”
Maddie ran ahead, leaving Tara to bring their feast. “Mommy thinks it’s fun to play in the rain.”
“I’m not your mommy,” Tara grumbled. She reached the play structure and handed everything up to Maddie, who’d already scaled the side. Tara moved more slowly, taking care not to snag her pants on any rough pieces of wood.
She arrived at the top and ducked under the canvas roof, only to find that Maddie had climbed down the opposite side.
“What are you doing?” Tara called to her. “I thought we were eating up here.”
“Look at the birds!” Maddie shouted. She squatted in the grass behind the sandbox and beneath the big tree that grew next to it. “A whole nest of them—look.”
Tara stared down at the nest and the three bald baby birds peeping loudly. Following a straight line up from the ground, into the high limbs of the tree, she thought she could tell where the nest had fallen from—probably in last night’s wind.
“Where is their mommy?” Maddie asked. “Will she come back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Tara said, though she was doubtful. The nest appeared to be pretty battered. Maybe something worse had happened to the bird who’d made it. “Don’t touch them,” she called to Maddie. “Come back up here, and we can watch for her.”
Maddie stayed beside the nest a minute more then climbed up to the play loft again. Tara got busy passing out the Oreos and pouring water in the miniature cups.
“Come, mommy bird, come,” Maddie chanted as she kept her eyes glued to the nest below.
“Maybe she’ll only come if we’re quiet,” Tara suggested.
Maddie nodded and brought a finger to her lips. “Shh,” she said, as if Tara had been the one making all the noise. She pressed her face between the wood slats, staring at the nest below.
Tara ate an Oreo then leaned her head back against the railing and closed her eyes, enjoying the cool breeze and fresh air. Times like this, it was easy to understand why Jane liked being outside so much. All this open space gave Tara a sense of freedom and something almost akin to peace. The worries that had seemed so omnipresent in the big city all but vanished in the quiet and beauty of Bainbridge.
“She’s not coming,” Maddie whispered after what might have been a whole two minutes.
So much for peace. “We haven’t been quiet long enough,” Tara said, opening one eye to look at her.
“What if the mommy bird doesn’t know where her nest is?” Maddie asked.
“She knows,” Tara said. Smart bird, staying away from all that whining.
“No. She doesn’t.” Maddie shook her head. “We have to tell her.”
“I don’t speak bird,” Tara said.
“Me neither.” Maddie’s brow furrowed so deeply that Tara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She had to admit that kids were amusing, especially Maddie, the way she took everything so literally.
“We could pray,” Maddie offered. “And ask Heavenly Father to help us talk to the mommy bird.”
“I don’t know,” Tara said. “It’s the middle of the day. He’s probably kind of busy right now.” She picked up an Oreo and held it out to Maddie. “Let’s have our tea party.” From watching Jane, she had learned the highly effective parenting technique distraction. With Allison it had worked every single time.
Unlike Allie, Maddie didn’t fall for it. She knelt on the floor of the playhouse, folded her arms, bowed her head, and began to pray. Tara sat across from her, feeling awkward, as Maddie pled for the mommy to find her baby birds.
No sooner had Maddie whispered, “Amen,” then she jumped up, a joyous look on her face.
“I know what’s wrong. I wasn’t loud enough,” she announced.
“Huh?” Tara frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“It’s okay,” Maddie said. “I can be loud, and we’re up high—” Her mouth opened in a little gasp and her eyes widened—“Just like King Benjamin. We learned about him in Primary. I have a tower like his.”
“No clue what you’re talking about,” Tara said, but Maddie had already run out from under the canvas, onto the bridge that connected the play fort to the swings. She flung her arms wide.
“Mommy bird! Come get your babies.” Her shouts carried across the yard. Tara was pretty
certain that if any birds were nearby, they wouldn’t be for long.
“Under the big tree. By the sandbox,” Maddie yelled. “Oh, mommy bird!”
“I think you’re scaring the babies,” Tara called to her. You’re scaring me, kid.
“But this is what the king did when he wanted the people to hear him. He stood on his tower and talked loud. For three days. We played that in Primary. David got to stand on the chair instead of me.”
Tough luck. Tara decided to employ another parenting tactic she’d learned from Jane—ignoring. After all, what did she care that Maddie was acting a little weird? She was finally entertaining herself, and that was all that mattered. Tara decided she’d run in the house and grab a book to read on the patio.
She’d no sooner crawled out from beneath the shelter of the canvas when a cold, fat raindrop hit her forehead. Another splashed onto the bridge of her nose before she’d had a chance to retreat.
“Time to go in,” she announced, gathering up the Oreos and dishes.
“Mommy bird, mommy bird.” Maddie’s voice took on an urgent note.
Tara peered down at the nest. One of the baby birds had ceased to chirp and sat quite still.
“Will it die?” Maddie asked.
“I don’t know,” Tara said. “But you might get sick if we don’t get inside before it starts pouring.” She held her hand out. “Come on.”
Maddie turned away and pressed her face between the wooden slats of the railing again. “I can’t leave them.”
“I can.” Tara climbed down the ladder and ran across the yard to the patio. Once sheltered from the rain, she turned and saw that Maddie remained right where she’d left her—on the bridge and getting soaked.
“This one’s all Jane’s,” Tara muttered as she entered the house. Her own limited parenting tactics had run dry, and she had no problem calling in the expert. Tara deposited the remains of the tea party on the kitchen table then went to Jane’s room and discovered she was asleep.
Of course. Tara stood in the open doorway of Jane’s beautifully decorated bedroom, debating what to do. Jane was curled on her side in the middle of the king-sized bed and looked small and vulnerable all by herself. Tara knew Jane hadn’t slept well last night, but on the other hand, it was her responsibility to deal with her child.
My Lucky Stars Page 18