He nodded. At least she understood and acknowledged that much.
“But the idea of such a big move, Ben . . . it frightens me,” she said plainly. “It seems as if our lives have just gotten back on track. First Mark leaving us, and then my stroke. It’s taken awhile to recover, to get our wind back. We have a lot to be thankful for, Ben. So much really.”
“I’m not denying that, Carolyn. I am thankful. But that doesn’t seem to mitigate or compensate for what I’m facing now. Do you understand at all?” he appealed to her.
“I think I do,” she said, her words also carefully chosen. “But life isn’t lived all at one speed or one level; there are peaks and valleys. You even told me that once. Maybe you’re just in a valley right now. You may even be there for a reason, I don’t know. But I do know it will pass. Something will happen and things will change. They always do.”
It was hard for Ben to hear his own reasonable counsel tossed back at him. He had told Carolyn that once, and he did believe it.
He tried again. “I am in a valley, Carolyn. And I believe there’s a reason for it. I believe God is directing me to some other place, at least for a while.”
She didn’t answer, but gazed at him levelly, her expression still and unreadable.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot.” He forced himself to go on, to say the words that were so difficult. “If you don’t want to leave here, maybe I should consider going on my own.”
She stared back as if he had struck her across the face.
“You would go anyway. Without me.” It wasn’t really a question. She said the words as if to clarify, as if the idea was so unbelievable she had to say it out loud to fully understand.
Ben felt sad. He knew he had hurt her, which was the last thing he wanted to do. But this was a serious moment in his life and he needed to help himself, or he knew he wouldn’t be any good to anyone else.
“I can see all the reasons why you want to stay,” he assured her. “If that’s your choice, I’ll understand and accept it. I just thought . . . well, that you would want to come with me. We’ve never really been apart more than a night or two our entire married life,” he reminded her. “I need to do this, Carolyn. I wouldn’t take such a step if I didn’t feel so strongly. It’s not just a whim.”
She nodded quickly, staring down. “Yes, I know it’s not a whim, Ben. Still, I feel a little hurt that you could really go without me.”
She looked up at him, his dear wife and life’s companion. He forced a small smile. “I haven’t left yet,” he reminded her.
He reached across the table and took her hand. Neither spoke for what seemed a long time.
Finally she said, “When you asked me to marry you, I didn’t know what to do. I loved you with all my heart, but I didn’t think I had what it took to be a minister’s wife. Do you remember?”
He nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“But you talked me into it. You persuaded me that I would be just fine, that our family would be just like everyone else’s. You said I didn’t have to be some model of female perfection.” She laughed, remembering. “And I wasn’t.”
He smiled, but didn’t interrupt her.
“I knew when I married you that our lives would be different. No matter what you said, your job is . . . unusual. It’s not even a job really. Not like some husband who’s an accountant or a plumber. Your stock-and-trade is with the spirit; it’s with God. If you believe you’ve been called to leave here, then I can’t dig in my heels like some suburban housewife upset about a job transfer.”
He nodded thankfully and squeezed her hand, too moved to speak.
“I knew what I was taking on when I married you,” she said. “I made that promise. If you go, I’ll go with you. Your ministry is more than your job; it’s you having dedicated your life to God’s work. It’s your heart and soul. I can’t hold myself apart from that. What kind of marriage would that be?”
Ben gazed at his wife, his vision blurred with tears. His heart was filled with love for her. More than love, he thought. He felt they were as close at that moment as two people could ever be.
“What about Rachel and Jack, and little Will? I know you’ll miss them.”
“Oh, of course I will. But they’ll be all right. They’ll appreciate us more when we come back.” She sighed, a little teary, too, he noticed. “When do you think this will all happen, Ben? Very soon?”
“I was thinking I would leave the church in February, if I can find an interim minister by then. But I don’t want to tell anyone yet, not until the plans are firmer. I have to go to the church council first, then the congregation. I’d rather not say anything about it before Christmas, until I send in all the paperwork and the request is formally approved.”
“I understand. I won’t mention it. Not even to Rachel,” she added.
He knew that would be hard for her, especially with Christmas coming. Carolyn was already having a hard time with the idea of Mark leaving; now an even greater cloud had drifted overhead.
They would get through the holidays as best they could, Ben decided. The season didn’t seem nearly so oppressive to him now, having made this plan.
CHAPTER NINE
“THIS IS MY OFFICE NUMBER, THE DIRECT LINE, AND THIS IS MY secretary’s. And this is my cell and Dan’s. And here’s my sister, Jessica’s number, though I think she’s working today, but you can call her if you have a problem. And this is the number for the doctor, Dr. Harding; he’s right in town. And here’s the phone number for the fire department, too.”
Emily felt breathless, having worked her way down the list taped to the refrigerator door. The new babysitter, Liz Barrow, nodded, her expression calm and pleasant. She wasn’t very old, Emily thought, only in her mid-twenties. But she’d come from an agency and had lots of experience, and all her references had checked out well.
Dressed for work in a black wool suit and black heels, her makeup done right and her hair blown out, Emily looked all business again. But she felt as if she were wearing a costume. It was funny how just one week away from the office and spending time with Jane had changed her perspective.
The only thing that felt right was the baby, balanced on her hip. She hated now to hand her over and wished there were some way Jane could come along with her. But she’d tried that last week and it hadn’t gone over very well, she reminded herself.
Emily wasn’t even going to be at the Village Hall for most of the day. She had a meeting at the county seat in Southport, more than an hour away. She wished that she could run home during lunch and check on the baby, but it just wasn’t to be. Tomorrow for sure, she promised herself, she would try to find some way to come home early.
Dan had already left. He was going to a shipbuilding museum in Essex to interview the town historian. He wasn’t very far, he reminded her. He would stop in at some point and make sure everything was going all right.
“Don’t worry; the baby will be fine. Lots of kids are left with sitters every day,” he had said as he set off that morning.
Emily hadn’t answered. It wasn’t the same for him. He didn’t understand.
Now she sighed, looking down at Jane, who seemed so content in her arms. Emily kissed the baby on the cheek and handed her over to the sitter, feeling a pang in her heart.
“All right. I’d better go. Make sure you lock the doors.” She forced herself to put on her coat and grab her briefcase. “I’ll call later when I have a break. And you can call me anytime. Don’t even hesitate.”
“No problem.” The sitter followed Emily to the door. “I’m sure everything will go fine, but if I have any questions, I’ll be sure to call.” She turned to the baby and smiled widely. “We’re going to have fun today, Janie. Aren’t we?”
Emily took one last look at the baby, then turned and headed out to the car. For a few moments she sat in the driver’s seat, letting the engine warm up. The car smelled of the baby, of hand wipes and formula. She felt that little twist again and tried to ignore
it.
It was a good sign that Dan had offered to come home and check on the sitter, she thought. He was kind to the baby, if still a bit aloof. At least he was showing an interest. She hoped that in time, Jane’s charm would wear down his defenses. But she had to admit, Dan was good at keeping up his “force field” when he wanted to.
How much time did they have? She wasn’t sure. The social worker had said the investigation would take about four weeks. That meant only two weeks more.
She hoped Dan’s feelings would soften. The past week of caring for the baby had only confirmed her initial impulse: she was convinced they needed to apply to be Jane’s adoptive parents if a relative didn’t come forward. But she didn’t dare mention it to Dan yet. It was just what she had promised not to do, argue for that next step. It would be going back on her word to him.
I’ll bring it up when and if the time is right, she told herself, then added a quick prayer. “Oh, Lord, please let there be a right time and let us do the right thing for Jane.”
DAN WRAPPED UP HIS RESEARCH AT THE MUSEUM IN ESSEX MUCH EARLIER than he’d planned. Just as he promised Emily, he called the sitter to check up three times, but had gotten an endless busy signal. He even called the operator to see if the phone was off the hook. No, someone was using it, she said.
That annoyed him. They weren’t paying this young woman to talk on the phone all day. Emily must be apoplectic if she had been trying to call, too. He wondered why Emily hadn’t called him yet, but then realized she must still be hung up in her meeting.
The drive from Essex back to Cape Light didn’t take long. Dan pulled into the driveway and walked in through the back door, which had been left unlocked, he noticed.
He was hungry and wanted some lunch. The kitchen was a mess, looking even worse than when he had left that morning.
“Hello? Anybody home?” he called out. “It’s me, Liz. . . .”
He walked into the living room, the sound of the TV growing louder. Jane was in her portacrib, set up near the sofa. She was lying on her stomach, surrounded by toys and screaming her lungs out. The sitter was watching TV and talking on the phone, a bowl of popcorn in her lap.
No wonder she hadn’t heard him come in. Dan walked right up to her and tapped her hard on the shoulder.
“Ahhh!” She screamed and jumped up, dropping the phone and spilling the popcorn in all directions.
Dan leaned over and picked up the receiver. “Liz has to go now. So long.” He hung up and looked at the sitter, eyes narrowed.
“Mr. Forbes . . . I didn’t hear you come in.” She took a step back and started toward the baby. “I don’t know why she’s crying all of a sudden. Maybe she’s teething or something.”
“Don’t bother, I’ll get her.” Dan literally pushed the young woman aside to reach Jane first. He leaned over and scooped up the baby, who was red faced and gasping.
“Now, now. It’s all right, little girl. I’m here,” he whispered. He held her close, tucking her head to his shoulder. She felt so hot, he thought. Her skin was on fire. Was it right for a baby to feel so warm? She never felt this way before when he held her. “She’s so hot,” he said to the sitter.
Liz peered at the baby. “She has a lot of clothes on. Maybe she’s overdressed.”
Dan stared at her. “You’re fired. Don’t come back here.”
The young woman glared at Dan for a minute, then turned on her heel and picked up her purse and coat, which were tossed on a chair. “Fine. Watch your own stupid baby.”
She stalked out of the living room and slammed the door. Dan barely noticed. He clicked off the TV with one hand and carried Jane into the kitchen.
“Dr. Harding, Dr. Harding . . .” he mumbled nervously as he scanned Emily’s endless list of phone numbers. Finally, Harding. Dan grabbed a phone and punched in the numbers with his thumb.
Busy signal. He dropped the phone and paced around the kitchen. Jane was crying fiercely. The sound of the child wailing and the mounting anxiety threw him back, way back to the days when he was a young father and this was Lindsay, in his arms. His little Lindsay, who was now running the newspaper. His wife, Claire, had gone somewhere, overnight to see her mother who was ill. She couldn’t take the baby and she didn’t trust Dan to watch her. Dan had never watched Lindsay on his own before, but he was willing to give it a try.
Claire had left angrily, as if daring him to take care of his daughter alone. And the baby had gotten sick, a high fever. By the time he noticed, she was going into convulsions. He didn’t know what to do. He felt so helpless. He called Claire to come home. She told him to meet her at the hospital. She had been so angry, saying he should have noticed Lindsay was sick. That it was just like him—in his own world, never thinking of anyone else.
But Claire had been strangely pleased to have been proven right, Dan realized later. In her mind, all her accusations had been validated. He wasn’t a good father. The newspaper always came first, even before his own children. He was cold and selfish. So egotistical.
Dan sat down in a chair, trying to soothe the child, feeling overwhelmed by the wave of dark memories, of failures and disappointments. He was success in his professional life, an award-winning publisher of a small-town paper, but he was a failure as a husband and a father. No wonder he had been a workaholic. Putting out a paper was the only thing he ever felt truly good at.
He glanced down at Jane, who had stopped crying, finally. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks red. He had to do something; he would take her to the doctor. Right away. “Come on, little girl. Come with me. We’re going to get you some help and make you better.”
He found a big blanket and her baby bag and had her in the car moments later. When they reached Dr. Harding’s office, he found a parking space right in front. He ran into the doctor’s office, Jane wrapped in a blanket and held close to his chest.
“My little girl is very sick. She has a high fever. I tried to call but the line was busy,” he explained to the woman at the desk.
She barely glanced up. “Your name, please?”
“Dan Forbes. This is Jane. I’m not her real father. I’m her guardian . . .” Dan swallowed hard. He was trying not to scream. Couldn’t this woman see this was an emergency?
She started typing on a computer keyboard. “I can’t find anything under Forbes. You’ve been here before, you said?”
“Warwick. Try Warwick, then,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Is the name Forbes or Warwick? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“It’s Forbes. My name is Dan Forbes. My wife’s name is Emily Warwick. Ring a bell?” he asked tightly.
“Oh, of course, the mayor. Is she a patient here? I’m rather new.” More typing on the keyboard. Dan nearly screamed in frustration. He wasn’t trying to buy an airline ticket; he just wanted to see the doctor.
“Why don’t you take a seat over there, Mr. Forbes? I’ll call you when—”
“You don’t seem to understand . . .” Dan could hear his voice getting louder. A woman reading a magazine in the waiting room frowned at him, her brows drawn together in disapproval.
Dan was about two seconds from exploding when Matt Harding stepped out from one of the exam rooms and came toward him.
“Dan, what’s up?” He looked down at the baby swathed in the plaid blanket.
“She has a high fever. Emily is up in Southport. I didn’t know what to do so I brought her here.”
“Bring her right in. Let’s have a look.”
Dan followed Dr. Harding into an exam room. The doctor took the baby and gently placed her on the exam table. He unwrapped the blanket and opened her outfit, then listened to her heartbeat and felt her neck and abdomen.
“She has a rash on her stomach,” he said. “Was this here this morning?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t. Emily examines every inch of her. She would have stayed home from work if she saw anything like that.”
The baby looked so small and helpless, Dan’s heart went ou
t to her.
Matt stuck an electronic thermometer in Jane’s ear, and it quickly started beeping. “One hundred four. That’s high, even for an infant. How long has she been crying like this?”
“I don’t know. I came back home about an hour ago. This nightmare of a sitter we hired had Jane stuck in her crib while she watched TV. The poor thing was screaming her lungs out.”
“I see. Don’t worry . . . we’ll figure it out,” Matt promised as he continued to examine the baby.
Finally, he pulled off his stethoscope and turned to Dan. “She has an ear infection. Her head is all clogged up. These things can come on suddenly, especially in babies this age. It’s very painful for her, though. That’s why she’s crying every time you put her down.”
“That sounds awful. Can you give her something for it?”
“Absolutely. I’m going to give her a shot, and then you’ll need to give her some antibiotics. The medicine should work quickly. The rash is a symptom of the infection. That will go away, too. She can have some Tylenol for the fever, too. Watch her temperature. Don’t let it get too high. She should have a tepid bath if it spikes up tonight, and plenty of fluids around the clock, as much as she’ll take.”
“All right.” Dan nodded. “Can you write this all down?”
“Yes, of course I will.”
Matt called in the nurse, who helped him give the baby her shot. Dan could hardly watch. Jane cried so hard afterward, he thought he might cry himself. Finally, she was dressed again, and the nurse placed her back in his arms.
“She’s all tired out. She’ll probably fall asleep right away,” the nurse said gently.
Dan didn’t answer. He rocked the baby awkwardly, to and fro, as he’d seen Emily do. Then he dipped his head down and kissed her softly on the forehead. Her soft hair tickled his nose.
Jane looked up at him a moment, wide eyed and silent, then slowly closed her eyes, as if she recognized who was holding her now and knew she didn’t have to cry anymore.
The Christmas Angel Page 18
