What Readers Are Saying about Karen Kingsbury’s Books
“If you had an official fan club I’d love to be the president! . . . I am so hooked on your books. My goal is to collect them all and share them with my friends, family, neighbors and coworkers!”
—Peggy
“Her books are wonderful! I read them within twenty-four hours of the time I buy them, then pass them on to others.”
—Debbie
“After reading your book I will never read secular fiction again. I literally just finished the first book, and as I’m wiping my tears away with a tissue I write to you. God truly placed this series in your heart; that is very clear.”
—Tammi
“I cannot put your books down once I start reading them. The tip of your pen is truly anointed. Your books have changed the way I think about my own life . . . and the way I see others. I am learning to see people through God’s eyes. I love your books!”
—Christie
“I love all your books, but the Redemption books are the best. They have brought me closer to the Bible.”
—Linda
“I 100% LOVE your books! You are my FAVORITE author by far. I have laughed and cried in every single book (no exceptions!). Keep ’em comin’!”
—Cassie
“I love all of Karen Kingsbury’s novels! They make me laugh, cry, and grow stronger. She is truly an amazing author. . . . You know you have a good book when you want to read it over and over again. I have felt like that with all of Karen’s books. She is my favorite by far!”
—Megan
“What a powerful message! These books touch me deeply in my heart!”
—Donna
“My friends and I are hooked on the Redemption series and make it our goal to purchase those books the day they get on the shelf! We literally devour them! The characters are so real, I’ve gone the Baxter house in my mind’s eye.”
—L.L.
“Okay, where’s the next one? I know it’s sitting in a warehouse somewhere and you are making us wait! (Just kidding!) Karen, there isn’t a person I know who doesn’t read your books and hold you and your family in their prayers!”
—Rachel
“I have fallen away from the almighty God many times. But always reading one of your books reminds me as to why I desperately need Him in my life. Thank you!”
—Nichole
“It takes a special talent and great insight from God to write and get into people’s hearts as you do.”
—J.K.
Visit Tyndale’s exciting Web site at www.tyndale.com
Visit Karen Kingsbury’s Web site to learn more about her Life-Changing Fiction at
www.KarenKingsbury.com
TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Baxter Family Drama is a trademark of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Rejoice
Copyright © 2004 by The Smalley Publishing Group, LLC, and Karen Kingsbury. All rights reserved.
Cover illustration © 2003 by David Henderson. All rights reserved
Cover photograph © by Royalty free/Corbis. All rights reserved..
Karen Kingsbury photo copyright © 2009 by dandavisphotography.com. All rights reserved.
Gary Smalley photo copyright © 2001 by Jim Lersch. All rights reserved.
Cover designed by Jennifer Ghionzoli
Interior designed by Zandrah Maguigad
Edited by Kathryn S. Olson
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard
Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920, www.alivecommunications.com.
Some Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright
© 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188.
All rights reserved.
Most Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters, is taken from
the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product
of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either
the authors or the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Smalley, Gary.
Rejoice / Gary Smalley, Karen Kingsbury.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-8423-8687-6 (sc)
1. Married women—Fiction. 2. Mother and child—Fiction. I. Smalley, Gary. II. Title.
PS3569.M33 R43 2002
813′.54—dc22 2003024807
Contents
Authors’ Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
A Word from Karen Kingsbury
A Word from Gary Smalley
Discussion Questions
To our loving families,
who continue to give us countless
reasons to rejoice.
And to God Almighty,
the author of life,
who has—for now—
blessed us with these.
Authors’ Note
The Redemption series is set mostly in Bloomington, Indiana. Some of the landmarks—Indiana University, for example—are accurately placed in their true settings. Other buildings, parks, and establishments will be nothing more than figments of our imaginations. We hope those of you familiar with Bloomington and the surrounding area will have fun distinguishing between the two.
The New York City settings combine real observation with imaginative re-creation.
Chapter One
The swim party seemed like a great idea, the perfect ending to a perfect summer.
Brooke Baxter West’s partner at the pediatric office had a daughter Maddie’s age, and to celebrate her birthday, the family had invited ten kids and their parents for an afternoon in their backyard pool.
For two weeks the girls had talked about it nonstop, seeking out Brooke each morning and tugging on her arm. “Mommy, when’s the swim party?”
But two days before the big event, another doctor at the office had received word from California that his aging grandmother had only days to live. Before he caught an emergency flight, he’d asked Brooke if she’d take his on-call duty for the weekend.
“You’re my last hope,” he told her. “My family needs me.”
Brooke hated being on call when she had plans to spend an afternoon with her girls. But other than the swim party, the weekend
was open, and she could take the pager with her. The chances of getting a Saturday afternoon call were fairly slim. Saturday evening, yes. But not Saturday afternoon.
Now the big day was here, and Brooke was having doubts. She should’ve called around, found someone else to take the doctor’s on-call duty. Her kids wanted her at the party, and if a call came in, she’d miss the summer’s last hurrah.
Brooke slipped a pair of shorts on over her swimsuit. She was raising the zipper when she heard Peter’s voice downstairs.
“Hurry up, let’s go.” Frustration rang in his voice. “The party starts in ten minutes.”
Brooke rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag—the one with the life jackets and sunscreen. What was wrong with him? He was constantly grouchy; the two of them hadn’t had a normal conversation in weeks. Their home was so tense even little Hayley had noticed it.
“Is Daddy mad at you, Mommy?” she’d asked earlier that week.
Brooke had mumbled something about Daddy being tired, and that yes, they should pray for him. But after days of sidestepping him, she was sick of Peter’s attitude. He made her feel incompetent and irritating. The same way he’d made her feel ever since Maddie’s diagnosis. Didn’t he get it? Maddie was better now; no fevers for more than two months.
Brooke headed into the hallway and ran into Hayley and Maddie. “Guess what, girls?” A glance at the grins on her daughters’ faces and her smile came easily. “I’m wearing my swimsuit!”
“Goodie, Mommy.” Maddie jumped up and down and reached for Hayley’s hand. “We can play tea party on the steps.”
They joined Peter downstairs and but for the girls’ excited chatter, they rode in silence to the house across town where Brooke’s partner, Aletha, and her husband, DeWayne, lived.
At three years old, Hayley was still small enough to carry, so Brooke swept her into her arms as they headed up the walk toward the front door. On the way up the steps, Hayley took hold of Brooke’s hand and squeezed it three times. The sign Brooke used with the girls to say, “I love you.” The love from her younger daughter was the perfect remedy for Peter’s coolness.
“You’re a sweet girl, Hayley; do you know that?” She shifted her pool bag to her shoulder.
“You, too, Mommy.” Hayley rubbed her tiny nose against Brooke’s. “You’re a sweetie girl, too. Know why?”
“Why?” Brooke and Hayley trailed behind, and Brooke took her time. She loved moments like this with her girls.
“Because—” Hayley tilted her head, her pale blonde hair falling like silk around her wide-eyed face—“I love you, that’s why.”
The door opened and Aletha smiled at them from the front step. “Hi. The party’s out back.”
Peter pulled out a smile, the one he wielded whenever they were in public. Brooke studied him, confused and hurt. Why couldn’t he smile that way at her? She’d been meaning to ask him, but she hadn’t found the chance. She was a few feet from the front door when her pager went off. She exhaled hard as she unclipped the pager from her waistband and stared at the small message window. Urgent, it read. The word was followed by the hospital’s main number. Great, she thought. I won’t get even an hour with them in the pool.
Peter came up behind her and looked over her shoulder. “What is it?”
“A hospital call.” She didn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. “Maybe it’s nothing.”
Several children, breathless and excited, ran into the foyer and surrounded Hayley and Maddie. Brooke ducked into the nearest bedroom and pulled her cell phone from her purse. “Dr. Brooke Baxter West here. Someone paged me.”
The nurse on the other end rattled off the information. One of the patients from their office had been admitted with a staph infection. It looked serious. They wanted a pediatrician to consult. Immediately.
“I’m on my way.” Brooke hung up the phone and returned to the foyer.
Peter caught her look and raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
“I have to go.” She pursed her lips. Doctoring was the most exhilarating career she could imagine having. But not when it interfered with her family. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“It’s your own fault.”
A ribbon of anger wrapped itself around her heart. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Peter shrugged, his eyes distant. “You took the on-call.”
Maddie ran up to her. “Natasha wants us to swim, Mommy. Can we, please? Can we right now?”
“Um, baby—” she looked at Hayley standing a foot away, waiting for her answer—“why don’t you wait till Mommy comes back?”
“We can swim then, too. Please, Mommy? Can we?”
Natasha did a little dance nearby and hugged Brooke. Their families had been friends for years, and Maddie and Natasha were best buddies. “Please, can we swim?” Natasha linked arms with Maddie and the two smiled their best smiles.
Brooke could feel the fight leaving her. So she’d miss out on some of the fun. If she hurried, she’d be back in time to join them in the pool. “Okay.” She allowed a slight smile. “But let me talk to Daddy first.”
Peter had moved into the living room, and Brooke found him and DeWayne seated side by side, their eyes glued to the television. A baseball playoff game was on, and Aletha had joked that having the party at that time could mean the men might never leave the TV.
Brooke crossed the room and positioned herself between her husband and the big screen. “The girls want to swim.” The bag in her hands was bulky, and she set it on the floor between them. “Here’s the sunscreen and life jackets. The girls need both before they can go out back.”
“Right.” Peter leaned sideways so he could see the game. “I got it, honey.”
The term of endearment was for DeWayne’s benefit, Brooke was sure. She didn’t appreciate the way he looked past her to the game. “Peter, I’m serious. Don’t let them outside without sunscreen and a life jacket. They’re not pool safe.”
He shot her a look, one that said she was embarrassing him. Then he yelled out, “Hayley . . . Maddie, come here.”
The girls scampered into the room and came up close to Peter. “Yes, Daddy.” Hayley spoke first. “Can we swim?”
“Not yet.” Peter looked hard at Brooke and unzipped the bag. Quickly and with little finesse, he lathered sunscreen into his hand and then tossed the bottle to Brooke. “Do Hayley.”
She needed to leave, but this was more important. Moving as fast as she could, she squeezed the lotion into her hand and positioned herself in front of their little blonde daughter. “Here, sweetie. We don’t want a sunburn, right?”
“Right, Mommy.”
Brooke rubbed the sunscreen over Hayley’s arms and legs, her back and neck, and finally her face. She and Peter finished with the girls at the same time, and Peter tossed her the smaller life jacket. He said nothing as they worked, and that was fine with Brooke.
These days, the less he said the better.
She took the blue-and-aqua life jacket and slipped first one of Hayley’s arms, then the other, through the holes. Next she latched the buckles down the front and attached a strap that ran from the back of the vest, between her legs, to the front.
Brooke had researched life jackets, and this style was the safest of all.
When Maddie’s vest was on, Peter gave Brooke one last glare. Again because of DeWayne seated beside him, he kept his tone light, almost friendly. “There you go. See you later.”
Brooke said nothing. Instead she turned and bid the girls a quick good-bye. She found Aletha and promised to be back as soon as possible. A minute later she was in the car, doing a U-turn toward the hospital. With every mile she felt the distance between herself and her daughters. They were playing in the pool by now, getting used to the water, their little-girl laughter ringing across Aletha’s backyard.
She stepped on the gas. She’d make this the quickest call ever and be back before the underwater tea party even began. Then—other than her relationship with Pete
r—everything about the day would play out just like it was supposed to.
Peter was grateful for the National League Championship Series on TV.
Because as much as he liked DeWayne and Aletha, the last thing he wanted was to spend that Saturday with a bunch of doctors. Swimming wasn’t his thing, and the current series was easily one of the most exciting ever. Besides, most of the guests were Brooke’s friends, people he barely knew. The prospect of catching a game with DeWayne had swayed him to come.
Especially after Brooke took the on-call assignment.
What had she been thinking? Of course she’d get called Saturday afternoon; kids needed doctors then most of all. Soccer injuries, illnesses that had brewed all week at school. Insect bites. Weekends were notoriously busy for pediatricians.
The fact that she’d let the other doctor talk her into taking his on-call was further proof that she wasn’t capable. Not nearly as capable as he’d originally thought her to be. Back when they’d met in med school, her confidence and competence had been part of what attracted him to her. But after the situation with Maddie—when she’d insisted that their daughter didn’t need a specialist—Peter had seen his wife in a new light.
One that was far from flattering.
An hour passed, and the sound of children came from the other room.
“Okay,” he heard Aletha tell them. “Dry off, and we’ll have cake.”
It was the seventh inning, and his team was down by one. Peter hoped they could keep the cake thing quiet—at least until the commercial. Not that he didn’t like birthdays, but he’d had one of the longest weeks in his life. His patients had needed him more than usual, he’d gone without sleep for two days, and now—on his day off—he was spending his Saturday at a kid’s birthday party.
At that instant—with the tying run on third and a power hitter at the plate—Maddie and Hayley ran into the room. They were shivering, and their life jackets made a trail of dripping water. “Daddy, can you take off our jackets?”
He glanced at them and then back at the TV. “Just a minute, girls. Daddy wants to see this.”
The count was 3–0, but this time the pitch was good. The batter cut and connected, but the ball flew over the catcher and into the stands. Foul tip. Strike one.
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