Special Blessings

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  “It is,” he insisted, unaware of her thoughts. “AARP letters, colonoscopies, body slowing down…aging stinks.”

  “That it does,” she agreed, completely focused now on trying to soothe him. “But fifty is hardly the beginning of infirmity that it once was. Fifty isn't old anymore.”

  “You know who says that.”

  “Who?”

  “Everyone over fifty.”

  Jenni Erickson joined the Bell family for dinner on Sunday evening. Although they had met her several times now, James and Fern were looking forward to getting to know even more about her than the few facts they were able to drag out of Gideon.

  As soon as grace was said, Nelson looked at Jenni. “You might as well start from the day of your birth and tell us everything, because we’re all curious about you.”

  “Nelson—”

  “That's a little extreme,” James said before Gideon could get himself in trouble with a rude comment. “But it's true that we would like to get to know you better.”

  Jenni smiled calmly. “I don't blame you one bit. Where should I start? I’m a school year older than Gideon, although we’re practically the same age. I play flute in the band and the orchestra, and I was inducted into the National Honor Society right before the end of the school year.”

  “Congratulations,” said Fern. “That's quite an achievement.”

  “Thank you.” Jenni appeared to be remarkably self-possessed. “My grades are important, since I’m in the process of choosing a college.” She shook her head. “It's amazing how fast high school goes.”

  Hope you’re listening, Gideon, James thought.

  “Have you thought about what college you might be interested in?” Fern leaned forward, and James could tell she really liked the young woman.

  “Oh yes.” Jenni looked taken aback. “Really, you have to start thinking about it at the beginning of your junior year. My parents took me to visit several schools last year, and I’ve already visited three others this summer. I have my choices narrowed down, and I’m working on getting my essays done.”

  “What schools are you looking at?” James asked.

  “In August I’ll be submitting an early action application to Wheaton College,” she told him. “That's definitely my first choice.”

  James was extremely impressed. Wheaton was a highly regarded Christian liberal arts college. “It's a good school.”

  She nodded. “I really want to get in there, and if I apply early action, I’ll know if I got in by December 31. If not, then I’ll submit applications to the other schools on my list.”

  James hoped some of her organizational skills rubbed off on Gideon. “That's an excellent plan.”

  “I could use some good tips,” Nelson said, “for when I start this process.”

  “You’re about to be a sophomore,” Jenni said. She grinned. “So you really don't have long to wait. You could start visiting schools now.”

  As dinner continued, Nelson peppered Jenni with questions about honors courses, Advanced Placement credits, and scholarships. She had nearly every answer at her fingertips, and those that she didn’t, she knew exactly where he could look. Although James continued to be concerned about the amount of time Gideon was spending with Jenni, he couldn't have picked a better girl out for his son if he’d chosen her himself. He just hoped Gideon had been listening to everything she had said about preparing to apply to college. Nelson seemed far more concerned about it than Gideon did.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  AND THAT'S WHAT GENNA AND BETTINA SAID,” Anabelle told Penny on Monday afternoon. They hadn't had a chance yet to discuss the results of Anabelle's sleuthing; they had been surrounded by others at the parade, and then Penny had gone on vacation for the rest of the week. Now that she had returned, the two women were having a private lunch in Penny's office to decide what their next step should be.

  “She doesn't sound like much of a prize as a sister,” Penny commented.

  “How sad to let something so trivial come between siblings.” Anabelle shook her head.

  “You know,” Penny said, “I wonder what hospital the sister's affiliated with.”

  “I found out,” Anabelle told her. “After the meeting, I casually asked Genna what small hospital could possibly be better than Hope Haven.” She grinned. “Of course she said none was better, but that Em's sister thought hers was. The sister's name is Edith Phast, and she's on the board at St. Cecelia.”

  “Aha.” Penny, who was seated behind her desk, eyed Anabelle on the other side, set her sandwich aside, and reached for her keyboard. “You know, I think I read…yes.” She turned the monitor around, so Anabelle could see it. “One of the other small hospitals up for the Quest for Excellence Award is—drumroll, please—St. Cecelia's.”

  Anabelle flopped back in her chair. “So that's the answer. Em's sister's hospital is nominated for the same award Hope Haven is. And after the things that were said between them, Em must feel she can't possibly let her sister get the better of her again.”

  “It's helpful to know what we’re dealing with,” Penny said, “but it still doesn't solve the problem. How on earth are we going to deal with this?”

  Anabelle blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs. “I suppose,” she said slowly, “that I’ll have to try to talk to Em Palmer. Wish me luck.”

  “Luck,” Penny said immediately, as the two of them stared at each other in dismay.

  “I’ll let you know how it goes.” Then another thought occurred to her. “Oh, goodness, I almost forgot. Did you see the article about the African violet show in Peoria on Saturday? I’d love to go, and I thought maybe you’d go with me.”

  Penny's expression clouded, and she looked disappointed. “Thank you, Anabelle, but I’m afraid I can’t. I have Patti that weekend, and she’ll be bored senseless in an hour. She loves flowers, but not for hours on end.” Her shoulders slumped. “I hate to leave her at her home on weekends; she gets so excited when I bring her home.”

  “Knock, knock.” Both women glanced up to see Elena standing in the office doorway. She walked forward, extending a sheaf of papers to Penny. “Marge asked me to give you this on my way out.”

  Penny accepted the stack of papers. “Thanks.”

  “I overheard a bit of your conversation,” Elena said. “Forgive me for eavesdropping, but, Penny, I might have a solution for your dilemma with your sister.”

  “You do?” Penny looked slightly dazed at being taken under Elena's wing.

  “Why don't you let Patti come play with my granddaughter, Isabel, on Saturday? They met at the Fourth of July parade, and I know Izzy would enjoy having a guest all to herself. You could pick her up on your way home afterward.”

  Penny still looked stunned. “Elena, are you certain?”

  Cheerfully, Elena grinned. “Of course I’m certain. How about it?”

  “All right.” Penny looked from Anabelle to Elena, shaking her head in wonder. “I’m not used to having friends like you. Yes, Elena, Patti could come play with Isabel that day. Thank you for the invitation.”

  Riley Hohmann, the nurse supervisor in the Birthing Unit, found Candace rubbing the back of a patient in transition on Monday afternoon. “Hey, Candace, there's a girl in the waiting room who would like to speak to you. Maybe sixteen or seventeen?”

  “Oh, that's the Nottingtons’ daughter Noelle.”

  “The one you were hoping to speak with?” Riley indicated the patient. “If Mrs. Lepkov doesn't mind, I’ll spell you for a few minutes until you can get back.”

  The woman groaned. “It doesn't really matter who's here now. Just make it stop.”

  The two nurses exchanged a sympathetic look. Transition was a difficult time in the labor process, and many patients who were normally friendly and pleasant got cranky, tearful, or even downright mean. They’d learned not to take it personally.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Candace assured the woman and her husband. Rapidly, she strode down the hall to th
e waiting room. Halfway there, she glanced down at herself to be sure her scrubs were clean. Check.

  Entering the lounge, she immediately saw Noelle waiting for her. She walked forward, extending a hand. “Hello, Noelle. I’m Candace Crenshaw.”

  “I know.” The Nottingtons’ daughter looked a little embarrassed. Probably recalling the last time Candace had seen her—leaving the coffee shop without speaking to her parents. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “I do. Thanks so much for coming by.” She led the girl to an unoccupied corner and took a seat. No nurse in her right mind would stand if she could sit for a few seconds.

  Noelle cleared her throat. “Before you talk, I have a couple of questions for you.”

  “All right,” Candace said. “Are these questions you can't ask your parents?”

  “Sort of,” Noelle said. “I have asked them some questions. I just want to make sure they aren't sugarcoating the answers to keep me from being worried.”

  Candace nodded, touched by the admission.

  “First,” the girl went on, “is it true that this baby can be born without a lot of awful complications?”

  Candace smiled. “Absolutely. The fact that no significant heart problems have been found is a big bonus. That said, you should understand that any birth is complicated, and things can and do go wrong sometimes. But we’re all hopeful that your baby brother or sister will be born without too many difficulties.”

  “Will it have to stay in the hospital for a while?”

  “I hope not,” Candace said, “but that depends on how the birth goes, and how well the baby is able to eat, and other factors.” Candace cleared her throat. “Now I have a question for you.”

  The girl fell silent.

  “How are you feeling about having a new baby in the family? Especially one with Down syndrome. I understand your stepmother's pregnancy was quite a shock at first.”

  “It was,” Noelle admitted.

  “It was a shock for your folks too,” Candace said with a wry grin.

  “I know Mom and Dad need my support,” the girl went on. Candace noted that she hadn't used the term stepmother.

  She nodded. “That's true. But…?”

  Noelle looked up, and tears swam in her eyes. “Oh, I feel stupid even saying this.”

  “Saying what? Anything you and I talk about here is confidential, you know.”

  “I’m afraid they don't really need me anymore.” The words gushed out, as if a dam had broken after filling to the brink. “If Dad has a baby with my mom, it’ll be like they’re a real family, you know?” She grimaced. “That didn't come out right. You know Therese is my stepmom, right?”

  Candace nodded. “For a long time now.”

  Noelle nodded. “And she's really amazing. I would like to have known my mom, but since I can’t, there's no one else I would love more.”

  Candace wished Therese could hear the heartfelt confession. “And you’re afraid that since she's having a baby of her own, she won't want or need you anymore.”

  The girl nodded, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m going away to college, and it’ll just be the three of them, you know? Like we always have been.”

  “Oh, honey,” Candace said. “I don't think you have to worry about being forgotten or pushed out of the nest. Therese loves you just as much as if you were her very own. And that's not going to change just because you’re going to be a family of four or because you’re going to be living at college. She's going to need you, you know. Any baby's first days are tough on mom. If you’re able to help out a little more during those first couple of weeks, let her get a few extra minutes’ sleep, she’ll be beyond grateful. If you’re willing to do things like learn how to help with the baby's therapies when you’re home on holidays and in the summer, that's even better.”

  “Therapies?” Noelle asked apprehensively. “What if I hurt it?”

  “Nothing complicated,” Candace reassured her. “It's likely that your baby brother or sister will have exercises that need to be done to improve his muscle tone. To help him grow stronger and to learn to do different things. You could be a big help with that.”

  “I could come home on the weekends if they need me. I’ll only be two and a half hours away.” The tears had stopped.

  “That's very thoughtful,” Candace told her.

  “I’m kind of hoping it's born a little early,” she confessed, “so I have a little more time to get to know it.”

  “You never know,” Candace said. “That may happen; it may not. Babies are born when they’re good and ready, not when it's convenient for the rest of us.”

  The teenager smiled. She asked several other thoughtful questions before standing.

  “Thank you,” she said to Candace, stepping forward to give her a hug. “I guess I have to go home and apologize for the way I’ve been acting.”

  “Just tell them how afraid you’ve been feeling, like you told me.” Candace wrapped an arm around her shoulders, as they walked from the room. “I can guarantee your mom and dad will both be relieved to know what you’ve been thinking.”

  She stood watching as the girl stepped into the elevator, waving one final time. As she walked back to the labor room where she’d left Riley in her stead, she couldn't help smiling.

  God has been urging that girl in the right direction, she thought. It just took a little while for her to hear Him, that's all.

  With her fingers crossed for luck, Anabelle stepped into Cuppa Coffee after work on Wednesday. She had called Em Palmer yesterday and invited her for coffee to discuss a few questions Penny and Anabelle had regarding the dossier.

  As she glanced around the little coffee shop, a hand raised and waved, and Anabelle recognized Em at a table by one of the windows. Waving back, she placed her order and waited impatiently as the vanilla latte was made for her. As soon as they called her name, she picked it up and wove through the tables.

  “Hello,” she said, hanging her oversized bag on the back of the chair and taking a seat. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Em was twisting her fingers together nervously. Although she spoke to Anabelle, her eyes darted around the room. “What's this about the award dossier information? I think I compiled all the information requested.”

  “Yes, it looked as if you had.” Anabelle smiled reassuringly, momentarily deflecting the question. “Emmaline,” Anabelle said, “Penny and I noticed some discrepancies in the information you provided.”

  “D-discrepancies?” Panic flitted across the other woman's face, and to Anabelle's astonishment, Em's eyes filled with tears.

  Anabelle reached out and placed a palm over the other woman's shaking hand. “Whatever's wrong, you can share it with me.”

  Em began to cry. “I did an awful thing, and I knew someone would notice. I doctored those numbers, and I’ve been f-feeling guilty ever since.”

  Anabelle dug into her bag and came up with a packet of tissues, which she passed across the table. Em blew her nose and dried her eyes, although more tears threatened. Anabelle took a sip of her coffee. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “You’re going to think I’m a fool,” Em said. “It all started two years ago when my sister Edith said Hope Haven was a second-rate hospital.” She went on to tell Anabelle the story that Genna and Bettina had shared at the quilting get-together. “When I found out that St. Cecilia was one of the other hospitals nominated in our division, I just had a meltdown. I couldn't let us lose to that hospital.”

  “Have you spoken to your sister since the nominations came out?”

  More tears fell. “Edith and I haven't talked since that stupid argument. I miss her every day, but we exchanged such harsh words…” She sighed. “I’m afraid she might reject any apology I try to make, so I haven't tried. I can't imagine her forgiving me.”

  “Can you imagine forgiving her?”

  Em looked at Anabelle as if she were crazy. “Of course. She's my sister.” She b
lotted tears. “What are you and Penny going to do now?”

  “We got the real statistics, and Penny said she’ll take care of straightening it out,” Anabelle said. “She's actually already started working on it, and if we send it overnight, it will arrive in plenty of time.”

  Em sighed. “Please tell her I’m sorry I made so much extra work for her. I’m never going to be able to look her in the eye again. You either.”

  “Nonsense,” Anabelle said briskly. “We’ve all had misunderstandings and done things we wish we could take back. You just need to let it go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  THE CRENSHAW-CARLSON FAMILY VACATION WAS about to begin. As they finished packing the car Saturday morning, Heath looked at Candace across the top of the luggage rack. “How come we need all this stuff? Bathing suits and towels. Boogie boards. That's all we need for the beach.”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “Spoken like a true man.”

  Heath grinned. “Hey, this true man needs everyone in this family to assemble over here now.”

  Howie and Brooke came up, as Candace rounded the car. “What's this, our pep talk?” she asked, grinning.

  “Nope.” Heath reached into the car and came out with several wrapped packages. “In honor of our first vacation as a family, I thought gifts might be appropriate.”

  “Presents!” yelled Howie. He grabbed the bulky gift Heath held out to him with astonishing speed and began to rip at it. Brooke accepted hers in a far more ladylike fashion, saying, “Thank you, Heath.”

  Candace only stared at him when he held out a small, square box to her. “What's this?”

  “You have to open it to find out.”

  “But you didn't have to—”

  “That's the best kind of present,” he informed her. “The ‘because I didn't have to’ kind.”

  She smiled, as she took the small silver-wrapped gift. “You’re right. Thank you.”

  “Mom. Mommy! Look at what I got.” Howie danced from foot to foot, holding a large sand-castle mold set. “We’re gonna make the best sand castle on the beach,” he informed Heath, who gave him a thumbs-up.