Summer

by Karen Kingsbury

  He hung up and tapped the phone on his leg. What were Katy and Dayne doing, anyway? They’d been home since Saturday, but neither of them had talked to him or anyone else in the family. Were things worse than he thought? worse than even the tabloids knew about?

  John pushed the thoughts from his crowded mind. Ashley needed his prayers right now. Ashley and her baby daughter. He was a doctor, but there was nothing he could do to help them. And the fact that he couldn’t really help was maybe what had him more discouraged than all the rest combined. So while he hurried to the high school, and as he walked out onto the football field and found Ryan and told him the news, and as he drove Elaine home, and on the solitary trip back to the Baxter house with Elaine driving behind him, he did the only thing he could do. The thing that took no medical training but more faith than he had felt in weeks.

  He prayed.

  Dayne was out back on the deck overlooking the lake when he heard his cell phone ring inside the house. He made no move to answer it. Katy was at the store, but as the ringing stopped, he heard her pull up.

  Never mind the call. He could call the person back. Right now he didn’t want to talk to anyone but Katy. And since they’d come home, she’d had little to say. He’d asked her more times than he could remember exactly what was keeping her so quiet.

  Now, inside the house, he could hear her putting away the groceries. God . . . Katy and I need to figure things out before we lose it all. It could happen; he was convinced. Somewhere along the way she’d started to believe what she was reading. Or maybe what she was hearing on the set.

  This morning before she left for the store, she’d found him and looked at her watch. “I’ll be gone an hour. If you have any phone calls to make.”

  She was gone before he could stop her. He called her cell, but she didn’t answer, so he did the thing he’d been wanting to do since the trouble on the set began. He called his friend Bob Asher.

  It was earlier in Mexico City, but Bob had time for him, the way he always did. After their initial small talk, Bob cut to the chase. “I’ve been watching the tabloids online. Your marriage is in trouble, friend.”

  “It is.” For the first time Dayne had to admit what was obvious to everyone else. He and Katy were in real trouble. At a time when most couples would be figuring out how to share a bathroom, he and Katy had unwittingly welcomed the world to take shots at their marriage.

  Bob talked to him for half an hour, and before they hung up, he prayed. “I’ll tell you this—” his voice held a warning that wasn’t often there—“do whatever it takes, Dayne. Your marriage is more important than all of it.”

  The words had stayed with Dayne ever since.

  He’d walked outside to the deck and studied the gathering clouds beyond the far shore of the lake. He would wait here, begging God for the right words, and when Katy got home, he would tell her he was finished, through with movies. He’d relocate to a deserted island and throw it all away if only she’d believe him. And he’d have to talk about Randi Wells too. He’d left the topic alone, because why would Katy want to hear about Randi’s problems?

  But her comment on the way out told him she wasn’t only thinking about Randi; she was believing the rumors. Anger swelled within him every time he thought about it, but anger wouldn’t help him now. Punching doors or shouting would get him nowhere. He needed to heed Bob’s wisdom, the Bible’s wisdom, if he and Katy were going to find a path back to the way it had been.

  Katy was still putting away groceries. He could hear the click of her wooden sandals, sense the tension in her quick steps. She came to the door. “You have a message.” Her tone told him she thought it was Randi.

  Fine. Dayne resisted his anger one more time. “Check it for me, will you?”

  “Oh, sure. What’s the password?”

  He rattled it off. “I ignored it on purpose. I don’t want to talk to anyone but you.”

  She gave him a look that said she wanted to believe him. But then she turned back into the house.

  A moment later, Katy opened the patio door and stepped out. Her face was pale, her lips slightly open. “Dayne, Ashley’s having her baby today.” She looked back inside and then at Dayne again. “Your dad wants us at the hospital right away.”

  “Is she okay?” He was on his feet, the silliness of Hollywood gossip reduced to meaningless drivel in as much time as it took for him to picture his sister about to give birth to a baby who wouldn’t live through the week.

  “I don’t know, but your dad sounded worried.”

  He met Katy in the doorway and framed her face with his hand. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened. It’s not like it looks; you should know that.”

  The softness he’d fallen in love with appeared in her eyes, the way it hadn’t for months. “I miss you. Even when you’re here, I miss you.”

  Dayne searched her eyes and felt himself falling in love with her all over again. Whatever it took, they had to fight for their marriage. Especially with the schedules they would face in the months ahead. Otherwise the world would gladly tear it to pieces. “I love you, Katy Matthews. Please . . . don’t ever let go.”

  She touched her finger to his lips. “Come on. We can talk about it later.”

  And with that, they rushed through the house and out to the 4Runner. As they left, Dayne had one sign that Katy was ready to find her way back to the beginning, back to the happiest days of their lives. For the first time since they’d been home, the tension was gone. That and something else.

  She was holding his hand.

  Ashley was lying in the hospital bed when she found the Bible story. She was right; it was in First Kings. Somehow reading the story would bring her peace; she was convinced. Not so much because of the specific details but because of the gentle whisper.

  The hospital room smelled of antiseptic, and the whir and steady beeps of her monitors reminded her constantly about the event at hand. Her baby was about to be born.

  But even so, she wanted to read the story. She smoothed the open pages. Landon was in the hallway with the boys, keeping them entertained and watching for the others.

  She looked at the page and started at the beginning. The story involved the prophet Elijah, who by chapter 19 had gotten into pretty deep trouble. A verse early in the chapter showed Elijah begging God, “I have had enough, Lord. . . . Take my life.”

  The circumstances were different, of course, but wasn’t that how she’d felt a time or two? When she came home from Paris or when she thought she might have AIDS. Even now, with the diagnosis of her baby’s neural tube defect, Ashley had at times felt beside herself.

  Eventually, Elijah’s journey led him to the mountain of God. And there, finally, the word of the Lord came to him. “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

  Elijah responded, and God did a strange thing, an act that Ashley related to most of all. He told Elijah to stand on the mountain because the Lord was about to pass by.

  Elijah did as he was told, and he became witness to a number of great and dramatic displays of power. First a powerful wind shattered rocks and tore at the mountains. “But the Lord was not in the wind,” the Scripture read. Next there was an earthquake, but the Lord wasn’t there, either. Then came a fire, but the Lord wasn’t in the fire.

  When Elijah must’ve thought God wasn’t going to pass by at all, he heard a gentle whisper. Elijah did not need to ask. He knew deep in his heart that here was God in the gentle whisper. The encounter strengthened Elijah, and he was able to return the way he’d come and carry out God’s work.

  All because he was patient enough to hear the Lord in the gentle whisper.

  Ashley closed the Bible and set it back on the nightstand. So what was the message? Part of it seemed obvious. She had asked for a dramatic miracle, proof that God was here with her, caring for her, loving her. But she had asked for an earthquake or a fire. Only when she fully admitted to herself that her baby wasn’t going to live had she found the courage to ask God about
her prayers, why they hadn’t been answered.

  And that’s when He’d told her about the gentle whisper.

  She felt her baby move, and she sheltered her abdomen with her hands. She wasn’t afraid. Dr. McDaniel said they’d been able to stop the contractions. Her baby would most likely live through the delivery. Even though birth would be the beginning of the end for Sarah, a part of Ashley was thrilled because in a few hours she would meet this daughter of hers, the little girl she’d come to love so much.

  She was about to take a drink of water when there was a knock at her door.

  Her dad walked in holding a bag. “Ashley . . . I have something for you and Sarah.”

  Hearing her daughter’s name spoken out loud made her heart ache, but at the same time it made the situation more real than ever before. She was about to have a daughter, a girl she could hold and love for however long God lent her to them. In that way, Sarah wasn’t so different from any other baby.

  Her father came to the side of her bed and set the bag on the floor. He hugged her, studying her. “They stopped the contractions?”

  “Yes. I’m fine now. . . . Sarah too. Her heartbeat’s perfect.” Again it seemed a cruel truth that in the womb, her daughter’s health and behavior were healthy and normal, in stark contrast to what lay ahead.

  “You’re feeling okay?” He leaned on the bed rail and looked beyond her calm exterior.

  “I’m sad. Otherwise, I’m fine.”

  Her dad brought his lips together in a thin line, as if there was more he wanted to say, more about the unfairness of the situation or maybe how he wished he could do something to help. But instead he reached down and pulled out a box wrapped in shiny silver paper with a single pink bow. He handed it to her. “This is for Sarah.”

  Ashley took it, her fingers trembling. “A baby gift?” Why hadn’t she thought about this part before? In her determination to enjoy her pregnancy, she hadn’t planned for the victory of her baby’s birth.

  “I can’t believe you thought of this, Dad.” Ashley removed the bow and set it on the side table, then carefully ripped the paper off. Beneath the lid lay the most precious pink receiving gown. She ran her fingers over it. Tears blurred her eyes. “Sarah will look perfect in it.”

  “I have to confess.” Her dad’s eyes were damp too, but he smiled anyway. “It was Elaine’s idea.”

  It took a few seconds for this truth to sink in. Elaine, whom Ashley had struggled with from the beginning, the woman who at times almost seemed to be forcing her way into their family. Ashley’s mother would’ve done this if she were here, because there was a level of thoughtfulness that only a mother could have. But instead it was Elaine who had remembered little Sarah. Elaine who understood that the days ahead weren’t only about death but about life. A precious, brand-new life.

  “Tell her . . .” Ashley blinked, and two tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped at them with her fingertips. “Tell her thank you for me.”

  Her dad was clearly choked up. He nodded and reached into the bag one more time. A smaller box was wrapped in a similar way. “This one’s from her.”

  Ashley opened it, and her hands shook as she removed the silver frame from its box. She ran her fingers over the words along the bottom. Our Precious Baby Girl.

  Even when she acknowledged that her father had a right to his friendship with Elaine, she’d never had any intention of actually relating to the woman. Ashley could be cordial, even friendly. But only as a way of accepting the inevitable. Not because she wanted a connection with Elaine.

  Because a connection of any sort would feel like she was betraying her mother.

  But Ashley didn’t feel that way now. Elaine had done what only her mother would’ve done. She had acknowledged Sarah’s birth as an event significant in its own right, and for that Ashley would always be grateful. She held the frame to her heart and squeezed her eyes shut. “Is she here?”

  “She’ll be here later.” John’s voice was strained. “She’s offered to watch the kids when Sarah’s born, so we can all be together.”

  Hot tears coursed down Ashley’s cheeks. Here was one thing, then. One good thing that had come from the tragedy of Sarah’s birth defect. She would see Elaine in a different light from now on, and Ashley had no doubt they would become friends. Elaine loved Sarah. That was all that mattered.

  The door opened again, and Ashley opened her eyes. Landon stepped in. He looked harried and frantic. “Everyone’s here except Luke and Reagan. But he called. They’re fifteen minutes away.” He was breathless. “Katy and Dayne just got here. Elaine brought craft paper and crayons. She’s got the kids drawing pictures for Sarah.”

  Her father smiled. “I’ll let you two be.” He hugged her one more time. “We’ll be waiting down the hall. The whole group of us.” He grinned at Landon. “What are there? Twenty?”

  “Twenty-one.” A short laugh came from him. “Counting me.”

  Her father left the room, and Landon walked to the bed. He saw the wrapping paper, and he lowered his eyebrows. “What’s this?”

  “My father.” Ashley made a sound that was more cry than amazement. “He brought Sarah an outfit.”

  Guilt and regret came over Landon in a hurry. “I should’ve thought of that.”

  “It’s okay. Neither of us did.” She dabbed at her cheeks again. Then she handed the silky gown to Landon. “Isn’t it perfect?”

  “Yes.” Landon looked like he’d had the wind knocked from him. “Your dad thought of this?”

  “Actually, no. It was Elaine.” Ashley’s heart overflowed with gratitude toward the woman. “She didn’t want us to lose the celebration of Sarah’s life.” Ashley blinked so she could see clearly. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing?”

  Landon picked up the silver frame and then, for the first time since the second ultrasound, he broke down. Tears filled his eyes, and he leaned over Ashley, taking her in his arms. “I can’t believe . . . the love out in that hallway. No baby will ever have a more loving life.”

  The door opened a few inches. “Ashley? It’s Erin. Can I come in?”

  Erin! She was back from Texas, and now she too would share in Sarah’s life. Ashley sat up a little. “Definitely.”

  Landon stood back and leaned against the wall. “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks.” Erin had a wrapped box beneath her arm. She looked from Landon to Ashley. “How are you, Ash?”

  “I’m not sure.” Ashley held out her arms. All her sisters had daughters, and they all loved their children very much. But Erin—who had struggled so long to have babies of her own—understood maybe a little more than the others what Ashley was going through.

  Erin hugged her for a long time. Then she handed Ashley the wrapped gift. “I made this for Sarah.”

  The realization of what her sister was saying took a few beats to sink in. Ashley opened the box and found a soft pink and white crocheted blanket. “You—” she looked up at Erin—“made this?”

  “Yes.” Erin’s eyes were dry, but her face shone with love. “I wanted you to know how much we’re looking forward to meeting her.”

  Ashley held the blanket in her hands and brought it to her face. It was soft and warm and cuddly. Erin had four little girls and a husband who was rarely home. “How in the world did you find time to make this?”

  “I worked on it at night.” Her eyes glistened. “I’d sit in one of the girls’ rooms and pray. For all our kids, one at a time. And especially for Sarah.” Her chin quivered. “Sam calls it my prayer blanket.”

  Ashley was overwhelmed. Her family’s love was like a safety net, created by God Himself. Like Landon said, love would reign today—no matter how quickly good-byes came. And suddenly she wondered if Brooke was here, Brooke who had been so sure that an abortion was the answer for Ashley’s baby. The two of them had said very little to each other, and Ashley wasn’t sure their relationship would ever be the same.

  She lowered the blanket and looked at Erin. “Is Brooke out there?�
��

  “Yes.” Erin’s expression changed. “She and Peter are both here.”

  Ashley tried to picture them mingling with the others, and her defenses went up. What was her sister doing? Defending herself? Trying to explain that Sarah’s birth and death would be unbearably hard and letting anyone who would listen know that Ashley and Landon were crazy to put the family through this?

  “Is . . . she saying anything negative, anything about Sarah?”

  “No.” Erin reached out and took Ashley’s hand. “She and Peter are sitting by themselves. Brooke won’t talk to anyone. She’s been crying since she got here.”

  Ashley hesitated. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was she crying because she felt guilty for her attitude? Or was her heart breaking because of the strain between the two of them? Ashley would have to talk to her later.

  In the movies, Brooke would’ve already been in to see her. She would’ve apologized and begged Ashley’s forgiveness. But this was real life, and in real life, people did things to hurt each other. And the right person wasn’t always the first one to make a move toward healing, because life wasn’t fair. But life was short, and there wasn’t time to worry about who should make the first move or who should say sorry first.

  Ashley had learned that much.

  She exhaled, weary of the conflict between her and Brooke. She squeezed Erin’s hand. “Do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Tell Brooke I’m glad she’s here.” She could feel God with her, giving her the words and the strength to say them. “Tell her I’m sorry we haven’t talked sooner.”

  Her dad popped his head in. “Everyone’s here. Luke and Reagan and the kids just walked off the elevator.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Erin bent down and kissed Ashley’s cheek. “You’re amazing; you know that?”

  “No. This family’s amazing.” She looked long into her sister’s eyes. “All I can do is try to keep up.”

  With promises to talk to Brooke, Erin left the room, and Landon stepped up to the bed rail again. “Forgiving Brooke?” He placed his hand gently alongside her face. “There’s your miracle, Ash.”