The Atonement Child

by Francine Rivers

  “Are you interested in anyone in Berkeley, Joe?”

  Joe looked at her. He saw nothing in her expression to give reason to her question. Just casual interest. “I’m interested in a lot of people.”

  “I mean girls.”

  “I look, but that’s about as far as it goes.”

  “You like redheads, don’t you?” she said, remembering a student nurse he had dated at NLC.

  “I like blondes,” he said, making a point of looking at her hair.

  She laughed, not taking him seriously. “And brunettes. You were mush over Carole.”

  “I wasn’t mush. I was . . . well, never mind what I was.”

  “She liked you.”

  His mouth tipped up on one side. “She liked a lot of guys.”

  Dynah frowned at that remark and looked him in the eye.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, catching her meaning. “I haven’t backslid into that particular sin. Not that I haven’t had trouble with some others.”

  “What others?”

  He hesitated. “Envy,” he said, glossing over it quickly. “And anger. That’s a big one. I had quite a few daydreams about what I’d do if I ever got my hands on the guy who raped you.”

  She lowered her gaze. “Ethan felt the same way.”

  Joe didn’t argue. Ethan had done a lot of ranting and raving. Unfortunately, he had gotten things twisted. His anger had focused and poured onto Dynah’s head when she wouldn’t “submit to his authority” and have an abortion. God, how do people get so screwed up in their thinking?

  “Who did you envy, Joe?”

  Joe realized she was listening closely to everything he said. He figured he had better be a little more careful from here on. “A lot of people before I became a Christian. Only one since.”

  “Who?”

  He looked at her but didn’t answer.

  Dynah stared back at him, wondering. His dark eyes were so intent, she felt warmth flooding her cheeks. “Joe?”

  Lord, he thought, what if I told her the truth? What if I cut the nonchalance and got down to basics? Weighing the possibilities, he grimaced. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.” Admit it, Joe. You’re chicken.

  The musicians were dispersing.

  Joe glanced at his watch, and his stomach dropped. “I’d better get you home. You told your mother you wouldn’t be out late, and it’s already midnight.”

  On the way down the stairs to the garage, Joe took her hand again. He didn’t let go until he opened his car door for her.

  She leaned her head back as he drove out of the garage and up the hill. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Joe.”

  “My pleasure.”

  A relaxed silence settled between them as Joe drove across town and turned south on Nineteenth Avenue.

  “You know something, Joe? You’ve turned out to be my best friend.” When he said nothing, Dynah blushed, sure she had embarrassed him. “I hope you don’t mind my saying that. I mean, I’m not trying to change our relationship or anything.”

  “Don’t ruin it,” he said roughly.

  Neither spoke for the rest of the drive to Ocean Avenue.

  Joe pulled up in front of her house and shut off the engine. When he turned slightly and looked at her, his heart galloped at the tension in her body. What’d she think he was going to do? Kiss her?

  “You’ve always been close when I needed you, Joe,” she said without looking at him.

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  Tears gathered, tightening her throat. She put her head back against the car seat, trying to relax. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My emotions are always in such an uproar.”

  He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I’d say there’s good cause.”

  She turned her head and looked at him. “We’ve talked about everything this evening—everything but the baby.”

  “I figured you’d talk about her when you were ready.”

  She smiled, eyes brightening. “Her?”

  “Or him.”

  “Her,” she murmured, bowing her head and looking down at her body. Her hands moved tenderly over her abdomen. “A little girl,” she said in wonder.

  “Or boy.”

  Her hands stopped their gentle caress and rested lightly on her unborn child.

  Joe saw her frown slightly. He waited for her to talk about what was worrying her.

  “What do you think about adoption, Joe?”

  “It’s not what I think. It’s what you think that matters.”

  “I want your opinion.”

  Joe wondered how she’d be able to live with giving her baby up. Two months ago, she had wanted desperately to deny the child’s existence. Now, she treasured the life growing inside her. It was evident in the way she touched her growing child, in her expression when she talked about the baby. “It’s a noble thing, but so is raising a child.”

  She looked at him, stricken. “I don’t see how I could. I mean, I’ve no way to support myself, and with a child, it’ll be even more difficult. I don’t even know where to begin. Any which way I look, I feel torn.” Her mouth trembled. “There’s no way through this without pain, is there?” Her mouth tipped. “Aside from physical, I feel my heart being torn from me.”

  He ached for her. “The Lord has a plan for you, and it’s not a plan for your destruction.”

  “I know that in my head, Joe, but sometimes I can’t see where this is all going. I felt so close to the Lord in Mendocino.” She let out her breath softly. “That day when you found me, I’d sought the Lord, and He opened the door again. I felt such peace. I knew everything would be fine, that this child belongs to Him. And then I came home. . . .”

  “Are things that bad?”

  She hesitated, thinking it over. “Not like they were, I guess. Maybe Mom and Dad are finally dealing with things they should’ve dealt with years ago and buried instead. I don’t know. It’s not them so much anymore, Joe. It’s me. I’m the one who can’t seem to decide anything.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And there’s so little time left.”

  Joe could tell her the exact date the baby was expected. He knew how little time was left for her to make a decision.

  “I know it would be best to give up the baby, Joe, but I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  She looked at him, tears shimmering. “How can I not, Joe? How can I raise this baby? I can’t rely on my parents forever, depending on them for financial and emotional support. I have to get a job. I have to stand on my own. And when I do, I’d have to find someone to take care of the baby. I can’t ask my mother to give up her life to raise my child. And my father . . . He was so set on my having an abortion, I can’t imagine him welcoming the idea of me keeping the baby.”

  “Have you asked him how he feels?”

  She looked away. “No, but he made his feelings clear a long time ago.”

  He felt her grief and confusion. “Women aren’t the only ones who change their minds, Dynah.” Hadn’t he changed his?

  “Everything’s changing so fast. Maybe he’s changed, too. I don’t know. I . . . oh . . .” She felt the child move strongly within her.

  “What’s wrong?” A bubble of panic popped inside Joe at the look on her face. Was she starting labor?

  “Nothing,” she said and smiled. She reached over and took his hand and placed it on her abdomen.

  He felt movement. “Oh, Lord,” he said in awe, his hand spreading. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not at all.” She covered his hand with both of hers as the child pressed and stretched. Giving a soft laugh, she leaned back further as she felt the pressure against her ribs. “She’s running out of room.”

  Joe leaned closer. Was that a tiny foot he felt against his palm or his own overcharged imagination? His heart was racing. He moved his hand gently, in awe of what was happening. It was the closest he could get to being part of the miracle taking place within Dynah.

  “I wonder i
f you know how lucky you are,” he said without thinking of the circumstances that had brought this child into being. The jarring memory came swiftly enough, and he looked at her, appalled at his insensitivity.

  But she shared the wonder of it. “It is a miracle, isn’t it?” Looking into her radiant eyes, Joe almost gave in and did what he had thought about doing from the moment he laid eyes on Dynah Carey. Catching himself, he drew back slightly. “I’d better get you in.”

  He walked her to the door. Taking her key, he unlocked it and pushed it open for her. “I’ll call you in a few days.” He turned away, going down the first two steps.

  “Joe?”

  When he turned toward her in question, Dynah’s heart squeezed tight at the cool look on his face. His mind was already elsewhere.

  Oh, Lord, what would have become of me had You not sent this man to pull me back from destruction? Not once, but countless times.

  She came back out onto the front step. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  She saw she had surprised him. He looked back at her, his eyes searching hers briefly. She wondered at the bleakness that came into his expression just before he turned away.

  Somehow she had hurt him deeply, and she didn’t know how or why.

  Evie heard the front door open and knew Dynah was home. Here we go, Lord. Give me Your words. Don’t let me tell her the news in a way to cause more pain. She smiled as Dynah came into the family room. She noticed her troubled expression. “Everything all right?”

  “I don’t know.” Dynah unlooped her small shoulder bag and put it on the side table as she sat down. “I think I hurt Joe’s feelings.”

  “How?”

  “I’m not sure.” She glanced at the television. “It must be something good to keep you up this late, Granny.”

  “I haven’t been paying much attention.” Evie pressed the remote, and the television went black. “Just passing time. I was waiting for you. I wanted to talk with you.”

  “Does it have to do with whatever you and Mom were discussing earlier?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Daddy?”

  “I talked with your dad a little while ago.” She could see Dynah was already worrying, and was sorry for it. There was no easy way to break bad news. “I have cancer, honey.” She saw the shock spread across Dynah’s face as her color ebbed. Her eyes filled. Oh, dear. “Now, don’t start crying or you’ll get me started. Your mom and I have done enough of that.”

  “What kind of cancer?”

  “Breast cancer, but it’s spread.”

  “Oh, Granny,” Dynah said in a choked voice. “How far?”

  Evie just looked at her granddaughter, hesitant to go into details at this time. The cancer had gone far enough for her to know the outcome. Six months to a year, the doctor had said. Longer, God willing.

  Dynah got up and came to her. Sinking down onto the carpet, she rested her head in her grandmother’s lap. “I love you so much,” she said in a choked voice. “Why does life have to be so unfair?”

  Evie stroked her hair. “I’ve asked myself that question a few times. Why did it have to be you in the park that night? Why me with cancer? And the answer is always the same. Why not?”

  “I’m glad you’ll be with us.”

  “I’m going home on Friday.”

  Dynah raised her head. “But how can you?”

  “I’ve got a car. I can drive.”

  “You have to have chemotherapy or radiation or something, don’t you?”

  “If I was thirty and had children to raise, I’d fight with everything I have. I’m seventy-eight, honey. I’m tired and set in my ways. I want to be in my own home, not among strangers in some hospital.”

  “You can’t give up, Granny.”

  “I’m not giving up. I’m taking medication. I’m following my doctor’s instructions. Extensive chemotherapy isn’t an option. It makes no sense. Why would an old lady like me want to be sick for weeks on end in an effort to prolong my life one more year or two?”

  “But it’ll get worse if you don’t.”

  “It’s going to get worse anyway, sweetheart.” Evie touched her cheek tenderly. “It’s the way of all flesh. I can’t live forever, you know.” She smiled, at peace. “At least, not here.”

  Dynah rested her head on her grandmother’s lap again and wept. “You’ll be so far away from us.”

  Evie’s eyes grew hot with tears. “That’s why I want you with me. I’ll need someone to help me in the months ahead and someone to take care of me down the road as the cancer runs its course. I’d like it to be someone I love and who loves me.”

  “You’re asking me to watch you die?”

  “No, I’m asking you to live with me. I see the months ahead as being very precious. I intend to live them to the fullest and make the best use of them I can.” Her hand rested on her granddaughter’s head. “The Lord has always had His hand upon you, Dynah, from the instant of your conception and before that. I believe He has His hand in everything that’s happening right now.”

  She patted Dynah’s shoulder. “Look at me, honey.” When she did, Evie smoothed away the tears from her granddaughter’s cheeks. “I know you have a lot of things to decide over the next few weeks, hard decisions to make.” Hannah had already told her they had an appointment with an adoption agency. She couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. “When all this is passed and behind you, you’ll need to get away. You’ll need to be active so you won’t think about what’s happened every minute.” She cupped her cheek tenderly. “I want you to know you have a home waiting for you in Oregon. You’ll have work to keep you occupied. You’ll have time to heal and decide what you want to do with your life. And you’ll have an income so you’ll be independent when you do know. I’ll pay you the going rate for a live-in nurse.”

  Dynah shook her head. “I won’t take any money, Granny.”

  “Oh, yes, you will. It’s the one condition I’m attaching to this. Don’t argue with your elders, Dynah. God is good. He makes provisions for those who love Him. And you have loved Him since you could walk and talk.” She gently stroked the fine silken tendrils of blonde hair back from her granddaughter’s temple with a trembling hand. “Let Him provide for you.”

  Several weeks after her grandmother went home, Dynah took a long walk along Ocean Avenue. She’d needed to get out of the house, away from the tension between her mother and father. They spoke no harsh words to one another, but neither did a tender one pass their lips. They moved around one another cautiously, as though one brush of contact would ignite the final battle and obliterate them both.

  Oh, Lord, why do people retreat to their private citadels? Why do they shoot their cannons from a distance rather than sit at the peace table and speak the truth of what’s in their hearts? They love each other and hurt one another with every breath they take.

  It was cool this morning, a light fog rolling back as the sun burned through. San Francisco’s weather had improved over the past few years. Global warming.

  As she walked down the street, Dynah thought about the baby, weighing alternatives while trying to test her feelings. Everyone assumed she was going to give the baby up for adoption. True, she had spoken with an attorney who specialized in adoptions. Vera Adams seemed sensitive to her situation. Within a week, she had several families applying to adopt the baby. Dynah had already received several letters and an album of family pictures from two, each doing their best to reassure her of the good home they could provide her child.

  The baby moved within her. Heart aching, she laid her hand over the spot, feeling the prick of tears. It shouldn’t matter so much, should it? This child had been forced on her against her will. Why should she be so encumbered?

  Oh, Lord, how long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?

  She could smell the sea and realized how far she had walked. Her mother would be worried.

  O
n the way back, Dynah thought of Joe. She wished she could talk to him again. He always had such a cool presence of mind, but he hadn’t called for six days. Was he annoyed with her or just busy? She wondered what he was doing at that moment. Conducting another Bible study near the student union? Working? Classes were over, so he should have more time on his hands. Maybe he was looking for a full-time job.

  Craving his companionship, she had almost called him last night but decided against it. Joe was kind and tenderhearted. He had also proven himself a faithful friend. She had to remind herself that there were limits to what one could ask in the name of friendship. Joe had a life of his own, and she had intruded upon it long enough.

  An odd twinge gripped Dynah’s abdomen. She stopped, alarmed. This was something different from the false labor she had endured over the past two weeks. The tightening increased until she moaned.

  This is it! Oh, God, this is it! It’s early! I’m not ready! And she was still a mile from home.

  Calm down! For goodness’ sake. Did she think the baby was going to fall out on the pavement? Not likely. She giggled, remembering some of the humorous remarks her Lamaze instructor had made over the course of weeks.

  She panted softly as she continued to walk at a leisurely pace. After a moment, she let out her breath. Odd that she should feel so calm now. All the waiting was over. Ready or not, here she comes! Ten minutes later, another contraction started. Dynah paused this time, pretending interest in the garden of one of the neighbors. Panting softly, she glanced at her watch.

  Like menstrual cramps, her mother had said. Not quite.

  Why on earth had she walked so far?

  Four contractions later, she reached home. She was hot and perspiring. “Mom!”

  No answer.

  “Mommy!”

  A note was on the kitchen counter. Panting through another contraction, Dynah picked it up with a shaking hand and read, Gone shopping. Back in two hours. Love, Mom.

  Dynah punched in a number and asked for Dr. Wyatt. “He’s in surgery this morning, Dynah,” the nurse told her. “I don’t expect him back until two.”