by Terrie Todd
With little else to do, Charlotte spent her time caring for Darcy. Mrs. O’Toole taught her how to bathe him and what she could do to prevent diaper rash. And today she had shown Charlotte how to wash the diapers, which Charlotte declared the most disgusting job in the universe. But she had to admit, when she brought them inside from the clothesline where they’d hung in the morning sunshine, the clean, fresh smell filled her with a sense of accomplishment. What would her girlfriends back home think of her now?
When Mrs. Marshall returned at lunchtime, she handed Charlotte a letter from her parents. It had been sent from somewhere in British Columbia a week earlier. Finally! She laid a sleeping Darcy in his laundry-basket bed and opened the envelope. Her mother’s familiar handwriting filled half a page.
Charlotte:
We have been trying repeatedly to call you. Is Mrs. Marshall’s telephone out of order? What is going on? I left our travel itinerary with the Piersons back home, who were also collecting our mail and such. David Pierson managed to track us down at our hotel in Vancouver. He said a telegram arrived for us at home, which he signed for. It was from someone named Marlajean Olson and it makes no sense whatsoever. It says, CHARLOTTE EXITED TRAIN FT. WILLIAM. BABY COMING. CONTACT MCKELLAR HOSPITAL ASAP.
Charlotte, this makes no sense at all. Did the baby come early? Why on earth would you be in Ft. William? We called the hospital and they said they had no record of a Charlotte Penfield having been there. Was this Olson woman some kind of kook? Why is there no answer at Mrs. Marshall’s? What hospital are you to have the baby at in Winnipeg? We couldn’t remember. We also contacted the adoption agency, but the secretary we spoke with had no information and Mrs. Shelton has not yet returned our call.
The letter closed with a phone number for the place where her parents expected to be by the time Charlotte received the letter, a hotel in Calgary. With Mrs. O’Toole’s permission, Charlotte placed the long-distance call, only to be informed her parents had checked out that morning. Would their next stop be Winnipeg?
Returning to her room, Charlotte picked up her sleeping baby and held him close. She was tempted to run away again, but told herself that was not the answer. She’d learned that the hard way, causing much grief and loss to others in the process. It was time she started behaving like a grown-up.
“Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay,” she sang as she rocked Darcy gently and studied his tiny face. “Your grandparents are going to fall in love with you, just wait and see. How could they not? They’ll take us both home with them and then . . . then . . . well, I don’t know what then. But it will all be okay. We have to believe it will all be okay. You believe it, don’t you, my sweet son? I know you do.”
It was late afternoon when she heard a tap on her door. “Telephone for you, Charlotte,” Mrs. O’Toole called from the other side of the bedroom door. Charlotte hadn’t even heard it ring.
She opened the door. “Is it my parents?”
“Not unless they’re in town. It’s a local call, love.”
Charlotte was half-expecting, against the odds, for it to be her father on the line. Instead, she heard the crisp voice of Mrs. Shelton, the adoption agent. Her heart sank. This could only mean it was time. Darcy’s new parents were ready to take him home.
“Good afternoon, Charlotte. How are you today?”
“I’m well, thank you.” She swallowed hard. Whatever is best for Darcy.
“I’m calling to ask when you might be able to come to my office for a consultation, the sooner, the better.”
“A consultation?”
“Yes. There’s been a turn of events we need to discuss. Have your parents arrived?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then you’ll need to bring Mrs. Marshall with you. Is she there with you now?”
“No, ma’am.” Mrs. Marshall had called Mrs. O’Toole earlier to say she would be tied up through the evening.
“Can you come first thing in the morning?”
“I can. I don’t know about Mrs. Marshall.”
Mrs. Shelton cleared her throat. “If she cannot come with you, please have her call me. But you come regardless, please. It’s important.”
They said their good-byes and Charlotte returned to her room, where Darcy had awakened and was ready to be changed and fed. As she snuggled him close, she wondered what this turn of events could possibly be. How would she get a moment’s rest tonight, wondering and imagining the possibilities?
At dinner that evening, Reverend Fennel apologized to the whole group for his behavior of the previous day. Once the meal was cleared away and the others had left the room, he asked Charlotte about her day and what the latest word was on her parents. He even held Darcy and suggested Charlotte might want to go for a walk around the block to get some fresh air and a little break. “Not too long, though,” he added. “I sure like this little guy, but I won’t know what to do if he gets fussy.”
Charlotte hesitated. Her doctor had recommended walking as a great exercise, and she hadn’t been apart from the baby since leaving the hospital. Perhaps it would do her good. Reverend Fennel seemed like his old self again; at least he was sure trying to be. But she just couldn’t bring herself to leave her son in his care when she’d seen another side of him. She saw the irony in this. How could she ever turn Darcy over to complete strangers if she couldn’t even trust this man who had become a friend and, in a way, her rescuer?
“Can I ask you a question first?” She couldn’t believe she was being this bold, but perhaps motherhood changed a person.
“Sure.”
“Are you always . . . well . . . out of sorts . . . after church on Sunday?”
Reuben sighed. “No, Charlotte. I’m not. Yesterday was an exceptional day. Let’s just say I got some difficult news, and I’m still sorting it out. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
That satisfied Charlotte enough that she was able to take a lovely walk and enjoy the sights and sounds of the neighborhood. Even though it was still early September, some of the trees were turning brilliant colors and the evening air was beginning to hold the promise of cold days ahead. She wrapped her old blue sweater around herself and breathed deeply.
“God,” she prayed. “If this is my last night with my little boy, I need you desperately. See me through this somehow.”
CHAPTER 30
Reuben handed Charlotte the milk bottle across the breakfast table. “Has anyone seen Maggie this morning?”
“All’s I know is she said she’d be in late last night.” Mrs. O’Toole took her place at the foot of the table and added brown sugar to her porridge. “Her hat’s on its hook, I checked for it. Probably exhausted, poor thing.”
“I hope she’s up soon. She’s to go with me to see Mrs. Shelton this morning.” Charlotte ate her breakfast with her right hand, holding a sleeping Darcy closely in her left arm.
“Does she know that?” Reuben stirred his cereal to cool it.
“Haven’t had a chance to tell her yet, but Mrs. Marshall isn’t one to sleep in.”
“Haven’t had a chance to tell me what?” Maggie came down the stairs, buttoning the cuffs on her sleeves.
“Oh, there you be, love!” Mrs. O’Toole jumped up to retrieve the coffeepot from the kitchen, but Maggie patted her shoulder.
“Sit. I can get my own coffee.”
Everyone at the table watched as Maggie returned with her cup and took a place at the table. She dished up oatmeal and added milk and sugar before realizing all eyes were on her. “What?”
“You tell us.” Reuben smiled at her as he buttered a piece of toast.
Maggie grinned. “Well, if you must know, I got a job.”
Mrs. O’Toole looked at Reuben, then back to Maggie. “That was quick.”
“It seems Bert’s Restaurant has a reputation in this town for excellent pie. You’re looking at the new pastry chef at the Fort Garry Hotel.”
Mrs. O’Toole let out an impressive whistle. “That’s grand! Congratulations.”
/>
“Thank you. I worked my first shift yesterday, and they want me back today at one o’clock. It’s only temporary, of course, until I can get my own place up and running again.”
Reuben knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop himself. Maggie had not allowed herself one moment to mourn her husband, to recover from the draining trip to Fort William, nor to grieve the loss of her business and home. He knew she was surely exhausted, but she didn’t look haggard. On the contrary, there was a warmth and inner light to her that hadn’t been there before. Still, he couldn’t help but worry.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do, Maggie?”
“I’m not sure of anything, Reuben. All I know for sure is the offer was made, and I’m in no position to refuse it. They even provide a uniform, which is jolly good luck for a woman with only two outfits to her name, don’t you think?” She turned her eyes toward Charlotte. “For heaven’s sake, Charlotte, what’s all the fidgeting about?”
Reuben could see the distress on Charlotte’s face, but the girl said nothing. “Charlotte’s had a call from the adoption agency,” he prompted.
“Oh.” Maggie looked at the girl. “Well?”
“Mrs. Shelton wants me there first thing this morning, and asked that you come too.”
“I see. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem. We can make it back here before I need to leave for work and if not, I’ll take the bus from there. Did she say what it was about?”
“Not exactly, only that it was important. But there’s more. I’ve heard from my parents. They received word about the baby. They’ll be here soon, maybe today.”
“I’m free today, Charlotte.” Reuben swallowed the last of his coffee. “Just let me know where you need to be and when.”
Maggie spoke around a mouthful of toast. “How did your parents hear?”
“Marlajean, the lady from the train, sent a telegram. Our neighbor accepted it, and when my parents called him, he relayed the message. But they won’t know to find me here.”
“It’ll be quite a shock if they show up at Bert’s. Seems like the only connection they’ve got now is the adoption agency. Best we head over there.” Maggie spooned up the last of her oatmeal and swallowed it as she rose from the table. “Thanks, Mrs. O’Toole. Sorry I can’t stick around to help you today. You know I’m going to make all this up to you, right?”
“I don’t want to hear another word about it.” Mrs. O’Toole started gathering dishes. “And those are the same words I said to that gossipy old Edith Osten when I ran into her at the grocery store yesterday too. Makin’ up stories about ya, Rev’rend. Says you’ve been reprimanded by the board and won’t be back. I put her in her place, let me tell you I did. The nerve. ‘I don’t want to hear another word about it,’ I said.”
Reuben watched her head for the kitchen. He glanced at Maggie and Charlotte, but they were already on their way up the stairs, tuning out Mrs. O’Toole’s chatter.
“Would you like me to come along?” he called up the stairs.
“Thank you, Reverend Fennel. I would like that very much,” Charlotte called. “We’ll be right down.”
“I’ll drive you then. Let me bring the car around to the street.” Glancing toward the kitchen again, he sighed and headed out the door to start his car.
In Mrs. Shelton’s waiting room, Maggie turned to Reuben. “You sure you don’t need to be at work? We can manage.”
“This is my work.” Reuben held his hat in both hands, flipping it around as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He wished he had the courage to tell Maggie the truth.
“Well, not technically, since we’re not part of your congregation. Yet.” Maggie reached toward Reuben’s lapel as if she was going to pull off a piece of lint, but then stopped. When he caught her eye, she pulled her hand back. “No meetings today? Sermon preparation?”
“Look, if you want me to leave, just say so.” Reuben placed his hat on his head.
“Of course I don’t want you to leave. I’m just saying—”
“Miss Penfield? Mrs. Shelton will see you now.” The receptionist opened the door to Mrs. Shelton’s office, and the trio filed in.
Maggie and Charlotte took the only two chairs opposite Mrs. Shelton’s desk while Reuben stood behind Charlotte, hat in hand once again. The girl was trembling, and he laid a hand of support on her shoulder. The receptionist closed the door, and Mrs. Shelton took her time shuffling through a file of papers before her.
“Good morning, Charlotte. Mrs. Marshall. And Reverend . . . ?”
“Fennel. Reuben Fennel.”
“Right. I do wish your parents were here, Charlotte, but I see no reason to drag this out any longer. We’ve had a highly unusual turn of events. But then, this case has been unusual for some time now, hasn’t it?” She looked down at the stack of papers again. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Charlotte, but it seems your son’s doctor has found an abnormality with his heart.”
Charlotte gasped. “His heart? He’s all right, though, right? I mean, he’s perfectly healthy.”
“He does appear perfectly healthy.” She nodded. “The diagnosis is a ventricular septal defect, also called a hole in the heart.”
“A hole?” Charlotte’s hand flew to her own chest, and she clutched Darcy even more closely.
“Now, it’s not at all uncommon in newborns, and often it will grow closed on its own.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Maggie asked. Reuben thought she sounded as distressed as Charlotte.
“It won’t necessarily cause problems. Dr. Monroe said it’s a good sign that his skin does not have a bluish color, one of the most obvious symptoms when the defect is serious. That means his blood is not oxygen-poor.” Mrs. Shelton looked down and read from the notes. “‘Many people with small ventricular septal defects lead normal, productive lives with few related problems.’”
“So let me guess.” Maggie shifted in her seat. “The adoptive parents don’t want to take the risk.”
Mrs. Shelton paused, and Reuben wondered if she was searching for the right words. “They have decided to forfeit this opportunity and will wait for a healthy baby.”
Reuben could feel Charlotte’s shoulders sag beneath his hand. Was it from relief or despair? Baby Darcy lay awake on her lap, his innocent eyes gazing up at her.
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “He’s so perfect. Are you sure it wasn’t a mistake?”
“I’m afraid not.” Mrs. Shelton tapped a stack of papers together neatly.
Maggie cleared her throat. “So what happens next?”
“I want to keep him!” Charlotte pleaded. “More than ever, I want to keep him.” The tears were flowing in earnest now, and Reuben again found himself offering the girl his hanky. Truth was, he was having a difficult time keeping his own emotions in check.
Maggie took Darcy from Charlotte’s lap. “Now, Charlotte. You’ll never convince your parents you’re mature enough to be a mother if they see you blubbering like this.”
“But you don’t understand,” the girl sobbed. “I can’t let him go now. He needs me! I know him. I know his cries, and he knows my voice.”
Reuben was reminded of the Bible story about Solomon and the two women who both claimed a baby as their own. How he longed for Solomon’s wisdom now. A knock at the door made them all turn their heads. Mrs. Shelton’s receptionist stuck her head in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but the Penfields have just arrived, inquiring about Charlotte. Shall I send them in?”
“Please!” The relief in Mrs. Shelton’s voice was palpable.
Reuben watched as a middle-aged couple walked in and looked around the room. It was apparent from Mrs. Penfield’s pink silk suit and matching hat that they were well-off. Her husband towered over them all, a striking figure in a double-breasted pinstriped suit and an unfortunate choice of facial hair that reminded Reuben of Adolf Hitler.
The receptionist left, closing the door behind her. The little office was now overly crowded, a
nd Reuben wondered if he should volunteer to leave. But his curiosity kept him pinned to the spot.
“Charlotte!” Mrs. Penfield’s face was as white as the wall behind her. “What on earth is the meaning of all this?”
Mr. Penfield took up the cause next. “There you are, Mrs. Marshall! I hope you have a good explanation for what has occurred here over the last week.”
“I do indeed, sir.” Maggie stood and trained her eye on him. “Your grandson was born, that’s what occurred. I should think any grandparent would be thrilled to know their daughter was safe and sound and had delivered a robust child. I would think that after such a long absence, they would want nothing more than to hold their daughter in their arms again and see their newborn grandchild. I would think—”
“What you think has nothing to do with it!” The man’s face was turning crimson, and Reuben didn’t know whether to fear more for his immediate health or for Maggie’s safety. As Mr. Penfield’s volume rose, Darcy began to whimper. “You were hired to watch over our daughter and to ensure the child was delivered as promptly as possible into the hands of his new parents via the adoption agency. From what I can see, you have failed in the most miserable way imaginable—”
“Mr. Penfield, if I might have a word?” Reuben figured he should jump in before the man blew a gasket, and he used his most commanding voice to address the taller man.
“And who on earth are you?”
But Mrs. Shelton spoke first. “Please. Mr. and Mrs. Penfield, the only way we’ll settle this is if everyone stays calm. Perhaps it would be best if Mrs. Marshall and Reverend Fennel waited in the other room for the time being.”
“Nothing doing! I want explanations, and I want to hear them from her!” Mr. Penfield pointed his finger in Maggie’s face.
To Reuben’s surprise, Maggie ignored the man and turned instead to Charlotte’s mother. “Please, Mrs. Penfield. Take my seat. Meet your grandson. Speak to your daughter. Reuben and I will be right outside if you need us.”
