“She doesn’t deserve a baby.”
Sharee stopped with the door open. The two girls huddled together on the far side of the room.
“Abbey, just quit. I don’t want to hear this again.” The second teen bent her head and long gold hair slid like a waterfall in front of her face.
“Well, it’s true.” Abbey’s voice rose. “She doesn’t deserve another child. Not…not when you lost yours.”
Sharee let the door swing shut behind her, the noise adding an accent to her entry. She deposited the dishes on the counter and threw a look in the girls’ direction.
“Abbey, we had this discussion earlier.” She met the girl’s hard stare with one of her own. “You shouldn’t have come if you felt this way. And you’re badgering Ryann.” She walked over and hugged the other girl. “You doing okay?”
Ryann Byrd nodded but didn’t say anything.
Compassion squeezed Sharee’s heart. “You could have stayed home, Ryann.”
“I know, but I wanted to be here for Marci.”
“And I know Marci appreciates it. This was hard for you.”
“Yeah. It’s okay, though.”
Abbey grabbed Ryann’s arm. “Let’s go. Everything’s over here.”
Sharee focused on the other girl. “Abbey, you didn’t leave a note for Marci, did you?”
“No. Why would I?” The teen’s voice displayed her hostility.
“I found one on the floor in front of the table with the presents.”
“So?”
“So, when I opened it to see if I could find out which present it went with, I found a nasty message inside.”
“Well, I didn’t write it.”
Sharee studied the girl. Was she telling the truth?
“What did it say, Ms. J?” Ryann sniffed.
Sharee frowned, debating the wisdom of telling them. “That having too many children was a sin against God.”
Ryann looked shocked. “That’s not true!”
“No, it isn’t. It was just a way to make Marci feel bad.”
Abbey tossed her head. “Well, I didn’t write it.”
Some others in the congregation had made their feelings known, too. If, as Marci said, she and Stephen had decided to let God number their children, what right did others have to interfere?
“But I don’t understand, Ms. J.” Ryann’s whisper interrupted Sharee’s thoughts. “I know Will and I did wrong having sex before marriage, but did God take my baby as punishment?”
Tears pooled in the girl’s eyes. Sharee closed her arms around her again. “No, sweetheart. I don’t believe that. God is a god of love, but there are causes and effects in life, and Satan is real. We don’t always know why things happen, but just know that God loves you. He will get you through this.”
“It’s not fair.” Abbey edged closer to Ryann. “What happened to Ryann wasn’t fair.”
“Life’s not always fair, Abbey.”
The girl scowled and pulled on Ryann’s t-shirt. “Let’s go.”
Ryann threw an apologetic look at Sharee, and the girls left arm-in-arm. Sharee sighed. Abbey’s Goth looked clashed with Ryann’s preppy clothes. How did two such different girls become such close friends?
“She’s right, you know.”
Sharee spun around. Roseanne Sawyer stood holding the door. Her earrings dangled and twirled, and her voice matched Abbey’s.
She stepped farther into the room. “It isn’t fair. If God is such a good God, why does he allow these things?”
And why do people act as if God is their personal Santa Claus and should deliver whatever they want down the chimney? Sharee opened her mouth to answer but closed it quickly. Any answer she gave would reflect her feelings toward the woman and her irritation with Abbey rather than a respectable discussion of God’s goodness and his plans.
She’d said what she needed to say to Ryann. At least for now. But if she replied to Roseanne’s question right now, she’d regret it later.
“Well?” Roseanne asked. “You don’t know the answer yourself, do you?” Her challenge hung over them both before she turned and barreled back into the fellowship hall.
Chapter 2
“Are you crazy?” A man’s high voice leaped at her as she climbed from her CR-V. Sharee lifted her head and looked around.
Across the parking lot, Bruce Tomlin gripped the arms of his wheelchair and glared at Abbey.
“You think I ran into her on purpose?”
Sharee missed Abbey’s soft reply, but she shook her head. What was the girl up to now?
“Of course, you did.” Bruce pushed backward in the wheelchair. “What else could you have meant by that?”
The wheelchair’s movement revealed two people huddled together on the ground. Ryann was attempting to lift Marci Thornton to her feet.
Sharee jumped forward. “Marci! What happened? Are you okay?”
The woman didn’t answer, but she grabbed Sharee’s outstretched hand. Ryann and Sharee helped her to her feet.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Thornton?” Ryann’s voice trembled. “What about the baby?”
“No. I…I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” Sharee’s arm slipped around her friend’s waist.
Marci caressed her rounded abdomen. “I think so.”
“Let me call your doctor.”
“No, I—”
Bruce’s wheelchair edged closer. “Marci, I can’t believe I didn’t see you. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. It’s my fault. I was reading something, and I stepped from between the cars.”
“I’m not letting you take the blame for this. I was going too fast and didn’t see you.”
“Don’t’ worry, Bruce. I’m okay.”
“You’re due soon. You should probably see the doctor.” He leaned forward in his wheelchair. “You don’t want anything to happen to the little guy.”
Ryann’s hand went to the woman’s stomach. “He’s right, Mrs. Thornton. I’ll drive you home. You can call the doctor from there.”
Sharee squeezed her arm. “That’s a great idea. And I’ll bring your car later, Marci. Lynn will help me.”
“I’ve ruined our lunch plans, Sharee. And the program—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk with Lynn. We’ll get back to you. Right now, you and the baby are what’s important. Let Ryann take you home.”
Marci’s protest sounded frail. “I can drive.”
“No.” Sharee shook her head. “You’re not supposed to be driving, anyway. I should never have agreed to meet you here.”
Ryann leaned in close. “Let me help.”
“I…well…I guess.” Marci thrust a paper at Sharee. “Here. Someone left this in my car. Just burn it.”
“What?”
“Burn it.” Marci’s voice echoed the disgust in her eyes.
“My car’s right over there.” Ryann pointed. “Abbey can sit in the back.” She threw a smirk at Abbey, who scrunched her face. Ryann slipped her arm around Marci, and they started for the car.
Sharee watched them go. Ironic that Ryann would come to Marci’s rescue, and Abbey would have to help—or at least endure it—in some way. She glanced down at Bruce. “Ryann’s the sensible one, but I wonder how she’s feeling inside.”
“You mean because of her miscarriage? That still bothers her?”
“It was traumatic for her. She’s a teenager, and she was five months along. The baby is well formed by then. She lost a child. Yes, she’s having a hard time.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that.” He changed his grip on the wheelchair. “I’ve been out of touch with the youth lately. And to have Abbey accuse me of running into Marci on purpose. That’s ridiculous. Marci stepped from behind the car, and I couldn’t stop in time.” His voice faded. “I was going fast, but usually, I see everything.” Bruce slapped the wheelchair’s arm. “Well, the truth is I can’t see a lot from th
is height.”
Sharee’s heart ached for him. Bruce had played basketball with such passion, his laughter echoing across the court, and the youth had loved his leadership. The two years since his accident had seen him struggle to get back to as normal a life as possible. Marci’s involvement, as the driver that day, had left her quieter, more serious. Then Ryann’s pregnancy and miscarriage. The father of the baby leaving the church. Even her own problems with Dean… So much had happened over the last couple of years. It had all taken a toll on the church, too. Somehow the idea of the church working together on the Christmas project felt right. Maybe God would use it to bring healing.
Sharee touched Bruce’s shoulder, and he shifted away.
“I don’t need your pity.”
“You’re not getting it. But you’ve had a rough two years. Just like Marci. Only yours has been tougher. I admire what you’ve accomplished.”
A short silence followed. “Thank you.”
Shoving on the wheels of his chair, he rolled to the van and clicked the remote. The back door rose. The lift came down. Bruce rolled onto the lift; and in another minute, he had maneuvered into the driver’s seat. His electric wheelchair sat off to the side, but he hardly ever used it, preferring the old one for building muscle.
“He’s come a long way, hasn’t he? Doesn’t baby himself.”
Startled, Sharee lifted her head and looked into John’s dark eyes. “What? Oh. Yes, he has.”
An engine started, and they both turned. The van backed away from the curb and followed Ryann’s car as it exited the parking lot.
“I remember arriving here the weekend of the accident,” John said.
“And I took off for Tennessee that same weekend.” She sensed his eyes on her again, but she stared at the van as it disappeared. They hadn’t mentioned that day since. She wouldn’t mention it now. A lot had happened.
“He’s come a long way, but I wonder if he’s doing as well inside as he’s doing outside. He’s angry still.”
“Don’t you think he has a reason?”
She glanced up to see him studying her. “Well, yes, but if he stays that way, he’ll be miserable.”
“Maybe he should just paste a smile on his face and pretend everything’s okay.”
She leaned back, surprised at his tone. “I didn’t say that.”
“No?” A line appeared between his brows. “Tell me something. Does this God of yours demand we take everything he dishes out without complaint?”
Whoa, where did that come from? “I didn’t say that either.”
“No?”
“No.” His words brought back Abbey’s and then Roseanne’s questions at the baby shower. “You know, God is not the author of all the bad stuff that happens to us. There’s an enemy out there, whom everyone chooses to ignore. But he’s real and active. And a lot of the stuff that happens to us is our own fault. My heart goes out to Bruce and to Marci and the other woman involved in the accident. It was horrible. But if Bruce had worn his seatbelt that day, would he be walking now? Maybe. Just maybe. So often, we do what we know is not right and then we blame God for the consequences.”
“But couldn’t this all-powerful God have prevented what happened?”
“He could have. Of course. And sometimes He does, but often we reap what we sow. We make our own choices and experience the consequences of them. Only, most people don’t like that—to take responsibility for their actions. We just blame God.”
She stared at the field, and silence stretched between them. Sharee lifted her head again, checking the dark eyes looking down at her. Her stomach dropped at what she saw there. Oh, Lord, why do I always jump in there and blurt out what I’m thinking?
“Some of us take responsibility very seriously.” The words were clipped. He turned and strode back toward the work buildings.
Sharee watched his retreating back. Her heart squeezed. He’d been angry, yes, but the pain… She bit her lip then whispered, “He’s not just my God, John. He’s yours, too, and He loves you.”
Chapter 3
The jangle of her phone the next morning woke her. Sharee reached for the nightstand, slapped her hand over assorted items and felt for the familiar rectangle.
“Hello?” Her voice pushed past a dry throat and remnants of an interrupted dream.
“Sharee?”
She struggled to clear her head. “Lynn?”
“Yes, guess what?” Lynn’s wake-up-now voice burst across the airways. “The baby’s here!”
“What?”
“Marci’s baby. Joshua Michael Thornton. Six pounds, two ounces.”
Sharee propped on an elbow. Her alarm clock showed 5:02 A.M. “The baby?” She fought the wave of tiredness that rolled over her. “Marci’s baby? Is he okay?”
“Yes. Yes. He’s fine, but I had to tell you. He’s a little early, but I heard Bruce knocked Marci down with his wheelchair. So, I assume that’s why.”
“He did.” Sharee tried to stop a yawn. “Marci’s okay, too?”
“She’s fine. But they’ll keep the baby a day or two to monitor him.”
“How did you find out?”
“Daneen called last night about the food for Marci, and Stephen beeped in—from the hospital. She and Pastor Alan ran over there. I told her to call when the baby came. Guess what?”
Recognizing the tone, Sharee rolled onto her back to get comfortable. Lynn and her gossip. “What?”
“Abbey and Ryann showed up.”
“Really? Was Ryann okay?”
“Yes. In fact, she seemed pretty excited about the baby.”
“And Abbey?”
“Abbey was Abbey. What can I say?”
“She wasn’t rude to Marci, was she?”
“No. In fact, she didn’t get to see her, but she and Ryann stood at the window of the preemie unit and saw Joshua.”
“I wonder how they found out.”
“Matthew Thornton and Ryann are close. He was a great help when she lost the baby, remember? After the boyfriend did his disappearing act. I bet he called her.”
“Could be.”
Lynn giggled. “I wish I’d been there.”
“I bet you do. God is good, isn’t he? Both Marci and the baby are okay, and that’s what counts.”
“You’re right on, girl.”
“Thanks for calling. I’m going back to sleep. Bye.”
Sharee put the phone back on the nightstand. A new baby. She plumped her pillow and snuggled down under the covers. After a few minutes, she rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. A little while later, she pushed the blanket off, swung her feet to the floor and clicked on the lamp.
The paper Marci had given her lay on the nightstand. She unfolded it and reread the title: “A list of Congenital Diseases and Problems for Babies of Aging Moms.” At the top, someone had written, “You’re too old to have children. Your baby could be born with one of these.” Who had left this in Marci’s car? And why?
Sharee sighed, turned off the light, but didn’t move. Silence stretched through the apartment. A familiar urging tightened her insides. She bowed her head and began to pray.
~.~.~
Sharee shoved her hands into her jacket and grabbed her purse. She had waited a whole week after Pastor Alan gave his okay for John to give his, and now John wanted to see her—today.
Daneen’s voice was warm with amusement when Sharee picked up the phone earlier. “Sharee, I’m sorry I had to call you at work, but John just agreed; and he wants to see you this afternoon. We need the time, he said, since this is such a last-minute request.”
“Last minute?” Sharee let her voice rise. “He’s the one that took a week to agree. You’d think I was asking them to build the Taj Mahal instead of a few mock-ups for a Christmas project.”
“It will take some doing.”
“Anything worth anything takes some doing.”
Daneen chuckled. “Yes, it does. Your bo
ss doesn’t mind if you take off early?”
“No, I talked told her about the project earlier and said I might need some time off. I have a lot of PTO coming.”
She whirled out of the parking lot and flipped on the Christian radio station. Downtown Ministries could do without her for the last hour. She had no clients, and eight years of faithful service to the homeless counted for something.
Glancing down at the speedometer, she realized she needed to ease back on the gas and her enthusiasm. Sometimes her excitement turned people off. She didn’t understand it herself, but every year the Christmas program filled her with fire—in the same way a potbelly stove heated the room of a log cabin.
She took a breath. John hadn’t helped on the other Christmas programs. He kept to maintenance. Of course, the program this year was outside and more extensive. Which was why Pastor Alan had asked for his help. Sharee had known they’d need it. Still, his agreement to assist was unusual.
She parked and darted across the lot to the office. Three heads swiveled her way when she snatched open the door. Pastor Alan, Daneen, and John all sat in the front office.
“You’re earlier than expected.” Pastor Alan threw her a smile. “Not much traffic?”
“Not much. I think I got here on autopilot.”
“You want to sit down and catch your breath?”
“No.” She tried to stop the grin and couldn’t. “I don’t want to keep John long, but I could if I’m not careful.”
“I warned him, Sharee. He agreed to do this, but when I told him you wanted to build a city—”
“A city?” Her voice rose. “That’s not true. I mean…” She transferred her focus to John. “Of course, there are buildings; but they’re mock-ups. Not the whole building. And we’ll need to do Herod’s court. And the manger scenes. You’ll have volunteers to help like always. You know how the congregation pitches in to help with whatever you need—we need, in this case. But you’ll have to…” She stopped.
The two men had exchanged glances, and John’s mouth twitched.
“Well,” Pastor Alan said, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “John will make sure it gets done, but go easy on him. The congregation will have your head and mine if you run him off.”
Amber Alert: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 1) Page 2
