Special Blessings

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  “Hello, Anabelle.” Penny Risser stood on the porch. A shorter woman with thin brown hair that appeared to be graying early like Penny's clutched Penny's hand and half hid behind her.

  “Come on, Patti.” Penny's voice was softer and gentler than Anabelle ever would have believed possible. “This is my friend Anabelle. Remember I told you how nice she is? And she likes plants too.”

  “She does?” The timid little voice sounded more like a child's than a grown woman's.

  “I do,” Anabelle said. “It's nice to meet you, Patti. Would you like to see some of my plants?” Seeing how shy Penny's sister was, Anabelle was doubly glad she had decided not to invite any of her children tonight. They were a lovely bunch, but this sweet little thing would have been totally overwhelmed.

  Patti shuffled past Penny into Anabelle's home. Penny, beaming, followed. “This really is so nice of you. I hope you didn't go to a lot of trouble.”

  “I enjoy cooking, so it was no trouble.” Anabelle led them toward the kitchen, sensing a relaxed atmosphere might be better than having a formal chat in the living room. “ This is my husband Cam; and as you can see, he also likes to cook.” She turned to her husband. “Cam, this is Penny Risser and her sister Patti. Patti would like to see some of our plants.”

  To Patti, she said, “Cam used to have a business helping people with their gardens and plants. Now our son Evan runs the business, and Cam just does fun things with plants.”

  “I like plants,” Patti announced. Her shyness seemed to drop away, and her face became more animated. “Penny gave me a ’frican violet. It bloomed an’ it's pink.”

  Penny looked pained. “Aaaa-frican,” she said to Patti. “An African violet.”

  “That's what I said!”

  Penny sighed. “She loves pink. And she's got an incredible green thumb. If she plants it, it grows.”

  “Runs in the family, apparently,” Anabelle commented.

  Penny shook her head. “Oh, she's much better with plants than I am.”

  Anabelle grinned. “That's hard to imagine.” To Cam, she said, “I’ve told you about her office.”

  He nodded, smiling. “I could have used you in my greenhouse over the years. Both of you. After dinner, I’ll be glad to take you on a tour of our gardens here at the house.”

  “That would be lovely.” Penny's eyes shone.

  Patti said, “Now.”

  They all chuckled.

  “After dinner,” Penny told her firmly.

  The telephone rang, and Anabelle excused herself to answer it. It was Ainslee with a question about a recipe of Anabelle's that she was trying. When Anabelle hung up, she smiled. “That was my elder daughter. For a minute there, I thought she was going to bring her half-completed casserole over here to get my opinion.”

  Penny smiled warmly. “I’m sure you wouldn't have minded. You’re lucky to have your children so close.”

  Unfortunately, the innocent comment reminded Anabelle that her youngest—and neediest, until recently—chick was about to fly the coop. She sighed, wishing Kirstie didn't feel it was necessary to move to Chicago, even if it was supposed to be just for one summer. What if she decided to stay there? Chicago was two hours away, far too distant for Anabelle to get there quickly if something happened.

  Cam apparently noticed the nosedive in her mood, because he took over the conversation, asking Penny about her work and letting Patti put the salt and pepper shakers on the table. What a wonderful man he was.

  A few minutes later, the foursome sat down to dinner. After Cam offered grace, they passed dishes around. Anabelle noted that Penny cut Patti's food for her and reminded her to place a napkin in her lap.

  When they went outside for Cam's promised tour, Patti could hardly contain herself. She shuffled ahead of Cam, demanding, “What's ’is one? What's ’is one?” and pointing at various cultivars.

  Anabelle and Penny strolled along behind them. “Your husband is very patient,” Penny remarked.

  Anabelle laughed. “It's an acquired trait. He's had to live with me all these years.”

  Penny smiled, but a shadow crossed her face. “You’re very lucky. I wanted so badly to keep Patti with me, but our parents were killed when I was just nineteen, and she was seventeen.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Anabelle reached for the other woman's hand and squeezed.

  Penny drew in a deep breath. “I had to drop out of college and go to work full-time to make ends meet, but it was just too much for me. Patti became a ward of the state.”

  “What happened?” Anabelle asked.

  “Initially, she was placed in a very poorly run group home. The residents were not well cared for, and the whole place literally reeked. Fortunately, I was able to get work at the hospital, and I was even luckier that I was promoted so rapidly.”

  “That wasn't luck; it was your skills being recognized.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled a little. “I had Patti moved to a nicer place as soon as I could afford to make up the difference. Although obviously it's not perfect,” she said darkly, and Anabelle remembered the ear infection issue.

  Her heart ached for Penny Risser. It was obvious that all Penny's hopes and dreams went out the window when she chose to take on her sister's care. Had she ever even had a date? She made herself so prickly and aloof that it was hard to imagine any man getting close enough to see how wonderful Penny really was. Additionally, she suspected Penny believed she had failed Patti, not being able to keep her at home. To Anabelle, it explained why Penny was so rigid, wanting everything in her world just so. If that had happened to Anabelle, she suspected that she also would need to feel as if she was in control of her world.

  “You know,” she said gently, gesturing at the pair just ahead of them, “Patti seems happy and well cared for. I think that as hard as it was, you made the right decision when you decided not to try to care for her on your own.”

  Penny bit her lip, fighting tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “I got a request from the National Down Syndrome Society that I’d like your opinion on.”

  “Of course.” Anabelle could hardly believe that Penny Risser needed someone else's input.

  “They asked if I’d be interested in starting a chapter of the organization here in Deerford. Apparently the closest one is in Peoria.”

  “That's a great idea.” Anabelle smiled at Penny.

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I’m the right leader. After all, I don't really have a child with Down syndrome. And it would take a lot of time.”

  Anabelle stopped and put her hands on Penny's shoulders. “Practically speaking, you’re as much Patti's mother as her sister. As for not having time?” She smiled. “If you ran it, it wouldn't require a lot of time. You’d have it organized in the blink of an eye.”

  It was prom night at Abraham Lincoln High School.

  Before the dance, many of the prom-goers went to the stately old gardens of Cavendish House, a hundred-and-fifty-year-old mansion owned and preserved by the Deerford Historical Society, to take photos. James and Fern, like many other parents, joined the throng milling around the grounds, everyone looking for the perfect location for their pictures.

  Gideon had told them he would meet them there, after he picked up Jenni. Being tall has its advantages, James thought, as he quickly spotted his son, who had grown into his size 13D shoes in the past couple of years and, several months ago, had surpassed James in height. With Gideon was a petite blonde in a sky-blue dress, and a couple, most likely Jenni's parents, who already were snapping digital shots of the young pair.

  Slowly James helped Fern make her way across the grass. She was using her cane rather than a walker again this evening, and he kept a tight clasp around her waist in case the uneven ground caused her to stumble.

  As they drew near, Gideon waved enthusiastically. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Come meet Jenni and her parents. Everyone, these are my folks.”

  James smiled at the group. “Hello. I’m James Bell
and this is my wife Fern.”

  “It's nice to meet you.” A blonde woman who looked a great deal like the girl by Gideon's side stepped forward and offered her hand. “I’m Jan Erickson, and this is my husband Zeke.” The men shook hands.

  The girl in blue said, “And I’m Jenni. It's nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn't realize you hadn't met,” said Jan.

  Fern smiled gently. “Not yet.” She held out a hand to Jenni. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  James was a little annoyed with his son. Gideon stood back, not realizing or not caring that his lack of etiquette was appalling. He had better manners than he currently was showing.

  “It's nice to meet you too,” Jenni said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Yes,” her mother added, patting Gideon's shoulder in a familiar way. “Gideon's told us so much about you both that we feel we’re already acquainted.”

  There was an awkward pause, as James absorbed the fact that the Ericksons obviously had spoken with Gideon enough to feel very familiar with his son.

  Gideon cleared his throat. “The spot by the rose trellis is open right now, if you’d like to get some pictures there.”

  The group trouped across the grass, James and Fern lagging behind. Just how much time has Gideon spent with the Ericksons? And when? thought James.

  As if she had read his mind, Fern said, “So I guess we know what Gideon's been doing after school.”

  “Indeed. When he said he was hanging out with friends, I didn't realize he meant at this girl's house.”

  Fern sighed. “It does seem that he has kept us in the dark, doesn't it?”

  “Absolutely.” James frowned. “We're going to have to have a serious talk after this dance is over.” His attention was caught by a movement at the edge of his vision. “Look.” He tapped Fern's arm and pointed. “Squirrels.”

  Fern laughed at the annoyance in his voice. “You and your squirrel war. They’re kind of cute, you know.”

  “Not when they’re on our bird feeder.” I need to look into buying a squirrel-proof feeder, he reminded himself silently.

  The photo op didn't get any better. Watching Gideon cuddle his date close, James felt a rising concern. Gideon was only a sophomore. Jenni was a junior. The two of them would have another entire school year together, a span of time that suddenly seemed frighteningly long to James. He didn't want to have to play the heavy, but it seemed that Gideon was forgetting everything he’d ever been taught about his commitment to family.

  Jenni's mother was chattering away to Fern. “…am a receptionist at Easter Seals. Be sure to look for me if you come in again.”

  “I will,” Fern promised. “At the moment, I’m feeling quite well, and I’m hoping to keep it that way.”

  Zeke Erickson stepped up beside James. “Fine son you have, James. Fine son. Gideon tells us you have another son as well.”

  “Yes. Nelson's finishing his freshman year at the high school.”

  “Jenni's our youngest. We have two older kids: a boy and a girl. Theo's a senior at Chicago State, and Lisa is finishing her freshman year at the University of Wisconsin.” He made a face. “So I follow the Badgers now.”

  James laughed despite his sober mood. “That's a hardship. I’m an Illini man myself.”

  “Dad.” Gideon interrupted the exchange. “Do you want to take a few pictures?”

  “Sorry.” James fumbled with the digital camera. He held it up and took several shots of his son posing with his arm possessively around Jenni. Her dress is pretty, he thought. Fern probably really loves it. It had straps, unlike many of the other girls' dresses that he saw at the dance, and the skirt was full and puffy, liberally sprinkled with glitter. It didn't show every curve of her body—another plus.

  They completed the picture taking. James could see that Fern was tiring, and he was anxious to get her back to the car. When he told Gideon they were leaving, Jan Erickson said, “Oh, don't you want to drive to the school and get pictures of the kids as they come in?”

  Fern smiled and said, “In a perfect world, we’d love to. But I’m tiring, and when I get tired, I get clumsy. We’ll have to pass.”

  Jan Erickson's face turned crimson. “I am so sorry,” she said sincerely. “Gideon told us a little about your struggle with MS, and I completely forgot.” She smiled a little. “I guess that's a compliment, isn't it? Tell you what. If you give me your e-mail address, I’ll take photos for both of us and send them to you.”

  “Thank you,” Fern said. “That's very thoughtful of you.”

  Jan shook her head. “Thoughtful would have been if I had remembered and offered before I opened my big mouth.”

  James and Fern both chuckled. She was a very engaging woman. As they headed back to the car after telling Gideon and Jenni to have a wonderful evening, Fern said, “The Ericksons are very pleasant people, aren't they? And they really seem to like Gideon.”

  “They were nice.” James didn't see any reason to darken Fern's mood with his own dissatisfaction.

  Then she said, “I just wish Gideon would have given us the same opportunity to get to know Jenni. I was embarrassed that we’ve never even met the girl when they obviously know Gideon well.”

  He had to agree. “I felt the same.”

  “Do you remember how your first young love felt?” Fern asked. “I suspect he's so preoccupied with his feelings that he hasn't given us a thought.”

  “Not very flattering—but probably true.” James shook his head. “I just hope his preoccupation won't get in the way of his studies or his responsibilities.”

  Chapter Ten

  ON SUNDAY, HEATH PICKED UP CANDACE AND HER family for Sunday school and church. He had begun to attend the class Candace enjoyed, a book-club discussion group that studied biblically based works. Janet attended a class for slightly older folks, and Brooke and Howie each had their own classes.

  After Sunday school, the family reconvened during the social hour, a short break between Sunday school and church during which coffee, juice, and snacks were set out. Janet was on the serving committee, and the children were both hanging out with friends when Candace noticed familiar faces hovering in the doorway. “Look,” she said to Heath. “The Mullens are here.”

  They walked to the doorway, and Skip's face broke into a broad smile when he saw them.

  “Welcome to Riverview,” Candace said. “We’re so glad you’re joining us today.”

  “We would really like to find a home church in Deerford,” Margie said, “but nothing has seemed like quite the right fit.”

  Just then, Howie came running over. “Hi, Eason. Wanna go get a cookie?”

  Eason looked at his mother. “Can I, Mom?”

  Margie smiled. “Sure.”

  Indiana looked longingly after them, and Candace realized the older child was too shy to go off on her own in a group of strangers. “Brooke?” Candace called.

  Her daughter left a small knot of young teen girls and came to where they stood. “Hello,” she said to the Mullens. “Are you here for church?”

  “They are,” Candace said, “and Indiana would like to get a cookie. Would you show her where the food table is?”

  “Sure.” Brooke smiled at Indiana. “Let's go get a cookie.” A surge of motherly pride rushed through Candace at her daughter's generous nature. Not every thirteen-year-old would be so willing to leave her friends to help a younger child.

  Automatically, she glanced at Heath, and they shared a proud smile. And the miracle of the moment struck her. Heath truly cared for her children, truly shared her pride and joy in their accomplishments. He was going to be a wonderful stepfather. Thank You, Lord, she thought, for putting this marvelous man in my path and for giving him the determination not to give up while I discovered that I could love again.

  “…sit with us?”

  She tuned back in just in time to hear Heath ask the Mullens to join them.

  “Thanks,” Skip said. “That would b
e great.”

  “Although we may need to think twice about letting the boys sit side by side. Eason can get pretty wound up.” Margie indicated the two little boys on the far side of the room. Eason appeared to have every bit as much energy as Howie. At the moment, the two seemed to be having a contest to see who could jump higher.

  Candace and Heath began to laugh at the same moment.

  Margie's eyebrows rose, and Candace managed to say, “Believe me, we know what you mean.”

  At the next session of Candace's childbirth class, the first item on the agenda was a tour of the hospital's Birthing Unit. Fortunately, one of the childbirth suites was free, so Candace was able to show the expectant mothers exactly the type of room in which their babies would be born.

  After the break, the class practiced a new transition-breathing pattern and reviewed the ones they had learned previously. Everyone seemed to be taking the breathing instructions seriously, for which she was grateful. Occasionally, a mother-to-be—usually a very, very young one—would act so silly that Candace would have to take her aside after class and have an “if you want to continue with the class, you need to settle down because you’re distracting the others” talk. That, of course, was never her favorite thing to do.

  When the class ended, Candace was pleased to see the Nottingtons waiting to speak with her. She got to them as soon as she could. “Hello, folks. Did you have trouble with the breathing techniques this evening?”

  “No.” Therese Nottington shook her head. “We’re doing fine with that.” She smiled, but Candace noticed her husband wore an anxious expression that didn't lighten for a second.

  “We need to speak to you,” Lewis said. “If you’re in a hurry tonight, we could schedule a time this week. I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

  “Not at all,” Candace said, dismissing her workday and the frantic rush of dinner, homework, and baseball practice that she and her mother shared. “Would you like to talk here, or would you prefer to go over to the Corner for a cup of coffee?”