Child on His Doorstep

by Lee Tobin McClain

  There was a little disturbance in the back of the church, and Corbin and Mikey came in, looking disheveled. What had happened? Mikey saw her and tried to tug Corbin in her direction, but Corbin pulled him toward the other side of the sanctuary, going to sit with Reese, Gabby and baby Izzy.

  Samantha tried to still the ache in her chest with stern admonitions to focus on the service and on God, not on herself.

  But when three generations—grandma, mom and baby daughter—made a testimony and lit a candle, sadness overwhelmed Samantha. Her mother was gone, and Samantha had never had the chance to thank her for all she’d done and tried to do, to apologize for not being a better daughter. Mom had been a loving person and had done the best she could, and Samantha longed for a mother’s comfort as well as for the chance to be more of a comfort to her mother than she’d been able to be.

  Maybe even more, she wished for the baby she’d miscarried. No, she hadn’t been ready to be a mother, nor had she had a committed partner to help with parenting, but nonetheless she had been excited about the baby. She had also figured that taking care of the baby would give her a purpose in life, a life that had been pretty aimless thus far. She’d stopped drinking as soon as she realized she was pregnant; not soon enough, as it turned out, but for a while, she had thought that motherhood would mark a wonderful new phase of life for her, more focused on giving and caring than on selfishness and partying.

  Oh, she would have loved to have a son. As she looked at the young mother holding her baby at the front of the church, her own arms ached with their emptiness.

  She’d been playing family with Corbin and Mikey, had enjoyed caring for both of them, but now Corbin was pushing her away. He didn’t want her to take on that role in his family, in his heart.

  No point in even pretending she was participating in the church service now, so Samantha slipped quietly out and stumbled down the church hall. She was looking for the ladies’ room where she could wipe her tears and wash her face before walking home. But when she found the restroom door and walked in, there was Sheniqua.

  “Hey,” she said, then studied Samantha more closely. “Are you okay?”

  “Not really.” Samantha splashed water on her face and grabbed a paper towel to dry off and blow her nose. Sheniqua was still there, so she waved a hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Let’s go sit down a minute,” Sheniqua said in that authoritative voice a doctor would use with a patient.

  Samantha didn’t really want to. She didn’t know this woman very well. But following along was easier than making some kind of an excuse.

  Sheniqua beckoned her into an empty classroom. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the Mother’s Day service going on upstairs, does it?”

  Not only was Sheniqua a doctor, but apparently, she was good at reading between the lines of what a patient or friend said. “How’d you guess?”

  “Because it’s tough for me, too,” Sheniqua said promptly. “I lost my mom a few years ago, and it’s not looking real likely that I’ll meet a guy who can put up with my schedule long enough to marry me and father me some babies.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s rough.” Samantha tried to focus on the other woman’s losses instead of her own, but that backfired; she started crying again.

  “It’s rough, but I’m handling it. Seems like you’re having trouble doing that.”

  Samantha hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth to the other woman, but she also felt an urge to confess.

  And since Sheniqua was being sort of pushy about knowing Samantha’s business, she might as well speak up. “I... I had a miscarriage,” she said. “My own fault, so it’s hard to get past it.”

  Sheniqua raised her eyebrows. “How is a miscarriage your fault?”

  “Before I knew I was pregnant, I lived a party lifestyle,” Samantha explained. “Not enough good sleep or nutrition. Staying up too late most nights.”

  “Sounds like a lot of young people,” Sheniqua said.

  Sheniqua didn’t get it. “I mean really a lot of partying. Including drinking.” Samantha stared down at the ground. “I know that’s why I lost the baby.”

  “You know it? Do you know how common miscarriages are?”

  “I lost my baby at six months,” Samantha said.

  Sheniqua put a hand on Samantha’s arm and rubbed, gently, her dark eyes compassionate. “Oh honey, that must’ve been so hard. Did they figure out that something was wrong with him or her?”

  “They never told me anything like that. The doctor said it was what I deserved, being an unwed mother, and he was right.”

  Sheniqua’s eyes widened. “That was just wrong,” she said, and grasped Samantha’s hand. “Of him, not of you. Most often, when you lose a baby, it’s because there was a health issue. An abnormality, usually genetic, but there are other reasons. They should have gone over all of this with you.”

  “I was...kind of...a wreck.” Samantha hiccupped as she tried to stem the flow of tears. “Maybe they tried to talk to me and I couldn’t take it in.”

  “You should have been offered counseling as well.”

  Samantha shook her head. “It was a big-city hospital,” she choked out. “Kind of impersonal and...and just busy.”

  Sheniqua’s lips tightened and she pulled a packet of tissues out of her purse and passed them along to Samantha. “I’ll send you some information about the medical side of miscarriage, if you’d like. It’s important you realize that, more than likely, it was nothing to do with your actions.”

  “That’s not what the doctor said.” His harsh words still echoed in her head.

  “We’re all sinners and that’s why we need Jesus. You do, I do and that doctor does, too. It’s not his place to judge. And as a doctor myself, I have to guess that your losing that baby was just plain old chance. It’s sad and awful, but it happens more than you would think.”

  A little spark of warmth lit in Samantha’s chest. Was it possible that she wasn’t to blame for losing her baby?

  Music swelled overhead, and Sheniqua grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, we both ought to go upstairs and do a little singing and praying. That’s what will really help our blues.”

  “Thank you.” Spontaneously she gave Sheniqua a quick hug. And as they walked up the stairs together, Samantha felt like maybe, just maybe, she had made a new friend.

  * * *

  The week after Mother’s Day wore Corbin down.

  It was final exam week at school, and he had all kinds of paperwork to do with his students. Grades to file. A research project to push through. Lots of committee meetings before everyone dispersed for the summer.

  Mikey had been fussy. Maybe the newness of being with Corbin was over for him; he kept talking about his mother in a fretful, longing way that hurt Corbin’s heart. Cheryl didn’t deserve that kind of loyalty from Mikey.

  He did get the feeling that Cheryl hadn’t been so neglectful of Mikey as she’d been of him. Mikey was well-fed and, according to the pediatrician Corbin had taken him to visit, hitting all the developmental milestones he should be. He was a typical two-year-old, if not a little advanced. Any crankiness or upset he displayed could be attributed to sadness about moving away from his mother, or maybe just toddler orneriness.

  Corbin wasn’t used to it, though, and he was uncomfortably aware that he wasn’t that good at dealing with Mikey’s strong emotions.

  Having a dog, a large shelter dog, was proving to be quite a bit more of an ordeal than Corbin had anticipated, and he wished he hadn’t let himself get talked into it without thinking through what it would mean. Boomer was a great dog, and Corbin was glad to give him a home, but this might not have been the right time to do it. As witness now: he’d had to take Boomer to the vet after an episode of vomiting had scared Mikey and Samantha this afternoon. Now, after two injections, Boomer
was feeling better, but Corbin’s wallet was a hundred dollars lighter.

  He pulled into the driveway and saw Samantha and Mikey in the yard.

  Samantha. That was the real reason the week had been stressful.

  He had felt awful about pushing her away, could see that it hurt her. He had always thought he was doing the right thing by taking a vow that he wouldn’t get involved with an alcoholic. Prided himself on it, really. But now, his heart was involved, and hers might be, too. So being cold and pushing her away didn’t feel like a wise, reasonable decision, but kind of a mean one.

  Not to mention that he longed to put his arms around her and comfort her. His brain knew it wouldn’t be the right thing to do, but his heart seemed to have another opinion, especially when she looked tired and drawn as she had during the past week.

  And now that he knew what she felt like in his arms...

  He got out of the car, opened the back door and let Boomer out.

  “Boomer!” Mikey yelled, and ran toward the dog.

  “Gentle, Mikey,” Samantha called.

  “Remember he’s not feeling well,” Corbin added.

  But Mikey barreled into Boomer and threw his arms around the big dog’s neck. Corbin half expected the dog to growl or snap, but he didn’t. He just licked Mikey’s face until Mikey fell onto the ground in a rush of giggles.

  He looked over to see Samantha smiling at the pair, just as he could feel his own smile. They were awfully cute. “I’m sorry you had to work late,” he said to her.

  She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  “Tonight’s our cookout,” she said. “We have people coming over. And we were planning on hosting it together, before...” She trailed off and looked away. “Anyway,” she said briskly without meeting his eyes, “I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch. So I was planning to stick around and help, anyway.”

  “Oh, right.” Corbin had forgotten. Before that ill-conceived kiss had thrown a wedge between them, they planned a cookout for Reese and Gabby and Izzy, sort of a payback for all the help the little family had given them. Gabby’s grandmother was coming too, and then Samantha had invited her cousin Hannah as well as Sheniqua, that doctor with whom she seemed to be becoming friendly.

  “So it would really help if you get the grill going,” she said. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  “Any minute?” He ran a hand over his sweaty face. He’d have liked to take a shower, at least. “I wish you’d called me to remind me.”

  “I tried, but you weren’t picking up your phone.”

  “Oh...right.” Now he remembered it buzzing when he’d been talking to the vet. He hadn’t looked at it since. “It doesn’t matter. What am I grilling?”

  “Burgers for the kids, that can wait, but we need to get the chicken on. I got whole pieces because they were on sale, but they take a little longer to cook. I’ve had them marinating.”

  She went inside and reappeared a moment later with a tray of chicken, a lighter and some tongs.

  Corbin’s exhaustion fell away as he started the grill and discussed cooking times with Samantha while Mikey and Boomer played at their feet. No question: being with this woman restored his energy. He loved hanging around with Samantha and Mikey. He loved bickering with Samantha like an old married couple. Loved the idea of hosting their friends together.

  Truth was, his life had improved by leaps and bounds since Samantha and Mikey had burst into it. No, it wasn’t easy or serene, but it was just so much richer.

  Mikey and Boomer rolled around together on the grass with a ball while Samantha brought out dishes and a plastic tablecloth and Corbin got the chicken on the grill. Just in time, too, because Gabby and Reese arrived with little Izzy and Gabby’s grandmother and several covered dishes of food.

  A moment later Sheniqua pulled up and got out of her SUV with a fruit tray that looked like the ones Corbin bought occasionally from the grocery store. “Yeah, I’m that guest who didn’t make anything from scratch,” she said with a wry smile. “At least this is healthy.”

  “This looks fantastic,” Samantha said, taking the tray from her and setting it on the table beside Gabby and her grandmother’s offerings. “Thank you for bringing it. I’m sure you had a busy day.”

  “You know it. Home visits.” Sheniqua was one of the few doctors in the area who was willing to visit patients in their homes; she considered it part of her Christian outreach, and Corbin admired her for it. She updated them on a couple of patients she’d visited, friends of Gabby’s grandmother.

  Then Reese and Gabby told them about the Rescue Haven boys and some mischief they’d gotten into today. Glue meant for use on the parade float had somehow gotten into a bunch of boys’ hair, with comical results Gabby showed them from pictures on her phone.

  “Hannah is on her way,” Sheniqua announced, waving her phone. “She just texted me that she’s going to be a little late.” Perched on the edge of the porch, she looked around the yard. “Where’s Mikey?”

  “Yes, where is he? Izzy wants to play.” Reese spun around with his daughter perched on his hip, making her giggle.

  “He was here a minute ago,” Samantha said. “He must’ve gone inside.”

  Corbin turned down the grill and checked the chicken. When Samantha didn’t come out right away with Mikey, a nervous feeling built in his chest. He walked around the yard, checking the spots where Mikey liked to play.

  No Mikey.

  A moment later Samantha came outside, her face pale. “He’s not inside.”

  Corbin’s heart sped up like a galloping horse. “Mikey is missing,” he barked out to the group at large. “We’ve got to get organized and find him before...” He glanced at the sun, sinking lower in the west. “We’ve got to find him fast.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mikey was missing.

  Heart pounding, Samantha spun 360 degrees to study Corbin’s yard. The trees and bushes that lined it had always seemed to be a good thing, but now they were just so many hiding places.

  “He can’t have gotten far,” Reese said. “Let’s search the perimeter of the yard, front and back. And somebody go out front and look up and down the street.”

  That last idea chilled Samantha. What if Mikey were hit by a car? “I’ll take the street,” she called, and ran to the narrow lawn in front of Corbin’s house. People usually drove slowly around here, but if Mikey ran out suddenly, as he tended to do...

  She jogged along the sidewalk, scanning the area. “Mikey! Mikey, where are you?”

  How had he gone missing so fast? Reese was right, he couldn’t have gotten far. They’d find him any minute, and scold him, and that would be that. Maybe he was just hiding. “Mikey! This isn’t funny. Come here right now.”

  All she heard in response was the caw of a blue jay.

  Maybe he’d gone into Mrs. Hutchenson’s yard to play on her grandchildren’s swing set. He wasn’t allowed to leave Corbin’s property, but suddenly that seemed like a wonderful thing for him to have done. She ran around behind Mrs. Hutchenson’s house.

  No Mikey.

  All the things that could happen to a little boy flashed through Samantha’s mind like a horror movie. He could have run out into the street, gotten hit by a car. He could have made his way into someone’s yard who had an unfriendly dog. He could have fallen into a hole, got into a patch of poison ivy. God forbid, he could have been abducted.

  But this was Bethlehem Springs. So safe, so little crime. Who would come to a place like this to abduct a child?

  Then she thought of the creek that curved from beyond Mrs. Hutchenson’s house into the woods behind Corbin’s place. Mikey had loved it on the couple of occasions she’d taken him down there to explore.

  Why on earth had she done that? What if he’d fallen in? The
water was shallow, but everyone knew it didn’t take much for a child to drown.

  She ran toward the section by Mrs. Hutchenson’s, calculating that he couldn’t have gotten any farther in the little time he’d been missing. She made her way down one bank, calling his name, looking through the thick bushes that lined the banks. Brambles scratched her arms and legs as she searched. What if Mikey had gotten scratched or hurt? What if he were crying somewhere, all alone?

  Her heart ached at the thought, and a sense of failure pressed down on her. She had been a horrible caregiver. She couldn’t keep anyone safe. She would have made an awful mother, and maybe that was why God had taken her baby away from her.

  This isn’t about you. Find Mikey.

  She sloshed through the shallow water to the other side of the creek, scanning for his small form in every direction. She could hear the others from various directions, calling Mikey’s name.

  Her search brought her back closer to Corbin’s house, and as she made her way around bushes and boulders, her thoughts flashed wildly, frantically, from where Mikey could be to her own negligence and what it said about her. “Mikey! Mikey!”

  Sheniqua had emailed her some articles about how often miscarriages happened and how rarely they were the fault of the mother, even though most women blamed themselves. Before today, Samantha had started to think that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t to blame for the loss of her child.

  Be that as it may, she was now responsible for losing Mikey. She was his nanny, and she had let him out of her sight.

  She hurried on down the creek, splashing back and forth through the shallow water, moving aside branches, checking leaf piles and foliage. No success. She started crisscrossing the woods between the creek and Corbin’s house.

  “Hey, Samantha!” It was Gabby, calling to her from the backyard. “Samantha! Do you know where Boomer is?”