To Find Her Place

by Susan Anne Mason

  Garrett waited for his father to leave, then focused on Mr. Fenmore. “Thank you for coming to speak with me, sir.”

  Fenmore waved the comment aside. “Please accept my condolences on your accident. We were distressed to hear it happened while searching for one of the agency’s wards. That’s taking your commitment to your job a bit far, wouldn’t you say?” His gray brows rose.

  “Perhaps. But all I could think about was Martin’s safety.”

  Mr. Fenmore nodded. “This certainly proves we made the right choice in appointing you as interim director.” He gave a wry smile. “Though I never thought you’d take such a hands-on approach.”

  Garrett shook his head. “Thank you. I’m only sorry I’ll be incapacitated for a while.” The beeping of the equipment suddenly seemed louder, and he’d never felt so feeble in his life.

  “Speaking of that, Mrs. Linder has offered to fill in until you’re ready to come back to work. What would you think about that idea?”

  “I’d welcome it. Jane will keep things running smoothly in my absence.”

  “Good. Then we’ll make it official at our next meeting. In the meantime, I don’t want you to worry about anything except your recovery. And to ease your mind, we’re prepared to offer you the director position permanently.”

  Garrett’s mouth fell open. “Really? But what about the other candidates?”

  “We had a few promising applicants, but no one could match your proven commitment to the job.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m honored, sir. Thank you very much.”

  Mr. Fenmore handed him a brown envelope. “Mrs. Linder asked me to bring you this. It’s the Blackwood family’s release papers. After this latest episode, they’ve decided they can’t keep Martin any longer.”

  Garrett took the envelope, regret filling his chest. “I should have realized they wouldn’t be a good fit.”

  “Mrs. Linder and I had a conversation about that. I understand you had another idea concerning Martin’s placement. A more unconventional one?”

  Garrett’s heart picked up speed. Had Jane already pled her case? “Actually, it was Jane’s idea, part of her recommendations concerning unconventional adoptions that I included in my report. Martin is the perfect example of a child who needs more one-on-one attention.”

  “I see.” Mr. Fenmore stroked his chin. “I understand Mrs. Linder is divorced and lives with her widowed mother. Do you truly feel she would be a good fit to adopt the boy?”

  “I do. Jane and Martin share a unique bond, and I believe he’d do well with her.”

  Mr. Fenmore gave a thoughtful nod. “Well, with so many fewer foster parents available, we need to come up with creative solutions to find the children a home.”

  “Thank you, sir. I look forward to getting back to work to implement those ideas.”

  “If there’s anything we can do for you in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call.” Mr. Fenmore cleared his throat. “Should your recovery be delayed, we can always reconfigure the office to suit a wheelchair.”

  Garrett’s brows rose. “You’d be willing to do that?”

  He nodded. “To be honest, it’s something we should have done years ago. Especially now that our injured veterans are returning home.” He gave Garrett a pointed look. “You just concentrate on getting well enough to be released.” He tipped his hat and left the room.

  Garrett stared after him for a moment. Mr. Fenmore was being more than generous. And knowing they wouldn’t rescind his job if he remained paralyzed was a freeing notion. He looked down at the envelope with Jane’s neat script on the outside. He opened it and found the paperwork from the Blackwoods withdrawing their guardianship of Martin. Right underneath, he found the form granting Mrs. Jane Linder custody of Martin Smith with the intention of adopting the boy after the mandatory two-year waiting period. Jane had signed the form, and now all it needed was his approval.

  He smiled as he read it over. He’d gladly sign this. At least, he’d have helped make one of Jane’s dreams come true.

  He only hoped that one day he could make the rest of her dreams come true as well.

  42

  Jane pulled the front door of the Children’s Aid office firmly closed and locked it. It had been another long day, the middle of her third week filling in for Garrett. Next Monday, so Mr. Fenmore had told her, Garrett was due to return to his position, if the ramp out front could be installed in time.

  She knew from her frequent conversations with Sarah that Garrett still wasn’t walking, causing no end of frustration for Garrett and a great deal of worry for everyone else, Jane included.

  As she made her way to the bus stop, she couldn’t quite manage to shake her somber mood. She hadn’t seen Garrett since he left the hospital and moved out to the farm to finish his recuperation. When she went to see him the day he left, he’d warned her that he would need time alone to concentrate on his recovery and asked for her understanding. What else could she do but agree?

  Still, Jane called the house almost every day, and Sarah continued to keep her updated on her son’s progress. The Wilders had set up a bed on the main floor for him, and the hospital had arranged for a physical therapist to come to the house three times a week to work on strengthening his leg muscles so that when the nerves had fully healed, he’d be strong enough to stand.

  But whenever Jane asked to speak to Garrett, Sarah always had an excuse why he couldn’t come to the phone. And if Jane suggested trying to visit, there was always a reason why it wasn’t a good time for her to come out. Jane wasn’t fooled by all the excuses. She knew Sarah was only abiding by Garrett’s wishes, and it was obvious that he was distancing himself from her in case he never walked again.

  If only she could she make him understand it didn’t matter to her.

  Jane pulled her collar higher against the sharp bite of wind, peering down the street to catch sight of the bus. Perhaps she was being impatient, expecting too much too soon. After all, this was a life-changing event for Garrett, and he deserved the chance to come to terms with it in whatever way he could.

  Trust. The word kept popping into her mind at the oddest times, a subtle reminder that she needed to trust God’s timing.

  I’m trying, Lord. I really am.

  She needed to remember that God was in control, and it was His will that would prevail. Because of that, she was doing her best to respect Garrett’s wishes and give him the space he needed to come to terms with his circumstances.

  The bus pulled up with a squeal of brakes, the doors whooshing open in front of her. As she climbed aboard, she made the conscious effort to push all negative thoughts away and concentrate on her blessings instead. Her spirits rose, knowing Martin would be waiting when she got home. He and Mama had fallen into a routine every afternoon. Mama would have a snack waiting for him when he got home from school, and then together they would prepare the vegetables for supper, so that by the time Jane arrived, much of the work would be done.

  Martin had thrived in the short time since he’d come to live with them, which thrilled Jane to no end. Knowing he had a family who loved him, no matter what that family looked like, had made all the difference to him. He even enjoyed school and didn’t balk at doing any of the assigned homework.

  Mama too had benefited from Martin’s presence. She seemed to have more energy and a new lightness to her being, enjoying her role as grandmother. When Jane discussed the apparent improvement with Dr. Henshaw, he told her that although Mama’s heart condition remained the same, the change could be due to a lifting of her spirits.

  Quite often, he told her, patients became despondent over their situation and that melancholy was almost as detrimental to them as their physical condition. He’d tried to assure Jane that she’d been taking wonderful care of her mother, but that perhaps having a child in the house had given her mother a new lease on life as well as a renewed interest in doing the little things she could, like knitting and some light cooking. Jane reflected on this a
nd determined that Dr. Henshaw was right. Depression might have been as debilitating to Mama as her weakened heart. If Martin could help with that, then he was even more of a blessing in their lives than Jane had imagined.

  As she got off at her stop, her steps felt lighter. God was good and faithful all the time, and in the end, that was all that truly mattered.

  If one corner of her heart remained empty, she had no right to complain. She only hoped that Garrett would find happiness and fulfilment in his life, whatever the future held for him.

  And if that life didn’t include her, she prayed she could learn to accept it. Until then, she held tight to the hope that Garrett would eventually realize he wanted her in his life.

  Garrett rolled his chair down the hall and into his parents’ kitchen. His therapy session had gone as well as most of his previous ones, yet today frustration screamed through every cell in his body. The tingles in his shins and feet told him that feeling was slowly returning. It had been over a week now since the sensations had started, but his doctor still wouldn’t allow Garrett to attempt to stand.

  “Give it a bit more time,” Dr. Littlejohn had said during his last visit.

  A bit more time? Next week he was due to start back to work. Still, the rational side of his brain understood that rushing his recovery could cause a setback, and he certainly didn’t want that.

  Yet, at the heart of it all, he ached for Jane. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t see her again until he could walk up to her on his own two feet. And until he could come to grips with his new circumstances, he thought it best to give them both a little distance.

  In the kitchen, Garrett maneuvered his chair past the counter to the long farmhouse table.

  Mom was seated in her usual spot with a mug of tea in her hand. “Hi, honey. How did your treatment go today?”

  She asked him the same question every time. And every time he answered in kind.

  “Fine, as usual.” He pulled his chair up to the table where a pitcher of water and a glass sat ready for him.

  As he poured himself a drink, he glanced at his mother. Her brows were knit together, and she stared absently into her cup. Garrett held back a sigh. Things still hadn’t improved much on the farm. Dad looked beaten down lately, which was likely the reason for his mother’s worry.

  And another reason Garrett needed to get out of this chair. Once he was fully recovered, he’d be able to help out more, now that he didn’t have to worry about the pieces of shrapnel. He could put in his hours at the office, and if he had to, he’d drive out here each night to help his dad in whatever way he could.

  Right now, with the start of December upon them and a new dusting of snow on the ground, the work had trailed off. Still, there were always fences to mend, repairs to be made in the barn, and feed to ready for the animals.

  He took a long drink of water. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mom?”

  She raised her head and mustered a brief smile. “You could peel some carrots for supper.”

  “Happy to.” She always found some task to make him feel useful.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work on Monday?”

  He gritted his teeth. This was the hardest part of recuperating at home. Not that he didn’t appreciate her concern, but at times he felt like an eight-year-old kid instead of a thirty-one-year-old man. “Yes, Mom. I feel great. I just wish I could walk into the office on my own steam. And that I didn’t have to bother Dad to drive me back and forth each week.”

  Thankfully, the boardinghouse where Garrett was staying already had a ramp up to the front door, and his landlady had kindly offered him a room on the first floor, so he’d be able to get in and out. He was also looking into city transportation options for people in wheelchairs.

  She reached over and patted his arm. “Be patient a while longer.”

  “Unfortunately, patience isn’t one of my finer qualities.”

  “You’re right there.” She chuckled as she rose and went to the sink. “Have you talked to Jane yet?”

  A dark cloud instantly enveloped him. They’d had this same conversation over and over, and it was growing tiresome. He’d briefly spoken to Jane once or twice about work, but that wasn’t what his mother meant. “No, Mom. And you know why.”

  “Honey, she calls every day to ask how you are. She cares for you, regardless of whether you can walk or not.”

  He scowled at the table. “It’s not up for debate. When the time is right, I’ll talk to her.”

  His mother only sighed and shook her head.

  A loud knock sounded on the front door, followed by footsteps in the hall.

  “I’ll get it.” Cassie’s voice drifted back to the kitchen.

  A few seconds later, she walked slowly into the room with little Mandy right behind her. Cassie stared at an envelope in her hand, her face ashen.

  “What is it?” Mom dried her hands on a tea towel.

  Cassie sank onto a chair, tears blooming in her eyes. “It’s a telegram from the war office.”

  Garrett’s gut gave a painful lurch. Please, no more bad news. He didn’t think his family could take one more blow.

  Cassie held out a shaky hand to their mother. “Could you open it, please?”

  “Of course.” Mom took the envelope and stared at it for a moment, as if weighing the gravity of its contents.

  Mandy hopped up and down by the table, clutching one of her dolls. “Mommy, can I have a tea party?”

  “Not now, sweetheart,” Cassie said. “Maybe later.” Her gaze remained glued to the envelope their mother was now opening.

  Garrett’s own heart thudded unevenly in his chest. He could only imagine the somersaults his sister’s must be doing.

  Mom pulled out the paper and scanned the contents, then a hand flew to her mouth.

  “What does it say?” Tears had started to stream down Cassie’s face.

  Mom held it out to her. “Jack’s coming home.”

  “What?” Cassie snatched the paper and read it. A smile broke through her tears. “It’s true. They’re sending him home. Thank you, Lord!” She cried harder, her shoulders heaving.

  Relief and joy spread through Garrett’s body. Finally, some good news. Jack would soon be home with his family, where he belonged.

  A movement beside Garrett caught his eye.

  “Mandy, no!” He sprang forward in time to prevent the hot teapot from crashing down on the girl. He shoved the pot back where it belonged and took Mandy’s hand in his, checking to make sure she hadn’t burned her fingers. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, her eyes huge.

  Relief morphed into exasperation. “What did Grandma tell you about touching the teapot? You could have burned yourself very badly.”

  He glanced over at his mother and sister, expecting them to chime in, but they were both staring at him, their mouths open.

  “You’re standing.” Cassie pointed to his legs.

  Garrett slowly looked down, and goose bumps shot up his arms. He’d jumped up without even thinking to save Mandy from being scalded. Now his legs began to tremble, and he lowered himself back to his chair.

  “Praise the Lord.” Mom’s eyes filled with tears.

  He blinked, still dazed by what had happened. To test himself and make sure it wasn’t some anomaly, he slowly pushed himself upright again, grasping the edge of the table for support. This time his legs seemed steadier. A grin twitched his lips as he attempted to take a step.

  “Be careful.” Mom rushed over to support him. “Take your time.”

  He took a few more halting steps until he reached the counter. Then he threw his head back and laughed out loud, his chest filling with elation. “I can’t believe it. It’s a day of miracles.” He threw his arms around his mother. “I think this calls for a celebration!”

  “I agree.” Cassie came to hug him as well, fresh tears on her cheeks.

  “Can we have a tea party, then?” Mandy peered up at them.

&nb
sp; The three of them burst out laughing.

  Cassie picked Mandy up and twirled her around the kitchen. “We can have a tea party and cookies and whatever else you want, sweet pea. Your daddy’s coming home. And Uncle Garrett can walk again.”

  43

  Jane closed the oven door. Another half an hour and the roast would be ready. She checked the pan of potatoes on the stove and replaced the lid with a smile. Sunday dinners were becoming her favorite time of the week. She always saved some of her weekly meat rations for the weekend as well as her sugar rations to make a nice dessert. Despite the war, Sunday dinner was a family tradition from her childhood that she wanted to pass on to her son.

  Now that they had Martin, their lives seemed to have changed from black and white to Technicolor. Having a child to share their home, someone who appreciated family life, was a true gift. One that made her and Mama even more grateful for all they had.

  Their lives would be even better if they could just hear some good news about Brandon. But after contacting the war office and learning they had nothing further to report—and likely wouldn’t until the hostilities ended—Jane had tried her best to put the matter out of her mind. As Mama said, they would have to leave Brandon’s fate up to the Lord.

  The other matter weighing on Jane was the possibility she might need to find a new job. Once Garrett resumed his position as director, she wasn’t sure she could go back to being a caseworker, not with the way he’d been avoiding her. It would probably be better for the both of them if she found work somewhere else. A prospect she did not look forward to.

  Just then, Martin came barreling into the kitchen. “There’s a truck in front of the house, Mom.”

  Jane’s heart melted into a gooey mess every time he called her that. “Is there, honey?”

  “Yup. It looks like Mr. Ben’s truck from the farm.”

  Jane frowned and laid her potholders on the counter. What would Ben be doing here? She drew in a deep breath and forced her pulse to settle. He was probably bringing Blackie over for Martin. She’d mentioned to Sarah that Martin was pining for the dog, and Sarah had promised to talk to Garrett about it. Jane hadn’t heard anything more and hated to bother them, knowing how preoccupied they were with Garrett’s recovery. She figured that when the opportunity arose and Ben came into town again, he’d bring the dog.