Natasha's Hope

by Heather Greenis

  “But….”

  Adam pushed his chair back, stood and walked out of the room.

  * * *

  Still bothered by the bill when she went to bed that night, Hope didn’t sleep well. Waking, she devised a plan. Shortly after breakfast, the buggy was prepared, and Hope and Izabella rode off to visit with Vicki and Matthew. After playing with the baby, they put Matthew down for a nap and took their dirty tea cups to the kitchen. Hope reached into her purse, produced a cheque and handed the payment to her aunt. An amount considerably higher than the invoice.

  “I’m unable to accept that,” Vicki informed her.

  “Aunt Vicki,” Hope pleaded.

  “I’ve yet to interfere with your relationship with your poppa and will not start now. I enjoy my job, and my husband has bonded with his boss. To save you a second trip, you may hand the payment to your poppa. Greg will ensure I receive it.”

  Frustrated, Hope gave her aunt a hug and walked out the door with Izabella behind her. They rode off in the direction of the city. Stopping at the bank, Izabella waited outside while Hope transferred some money from her trust fund. They returned to the orphanage.

  * * *

  Weeks later, ready for bed, Hope gripped her book and leaned against her pillow. Adam entered the room and changed into his night attire then crawled in beside her. She leaned over, put her book on the table, extinguished the light, and snuggled in beside him. She kissed his neck.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Enough to father my children?” she questioned.

  Adam pulled away from the embrace and looked at her. “Hope, are you with child?”

  “Not to my knowledge, but I hope to change that if you’re willing.”

  “Indeed I am. How many children do you wish?”

  “Humm. Perhaps four.”

  “Your momma’s brothers are twins, and my momma’s grandfather was a twin.”

  “Perhaps six. Momma and Poppa wished for a large family. We will have the large family.”

  He chuckled. “You wish for six children of our own in a house full of children. We shall be busy.”

  “I must conceive to become busy.”

  Adam rolled Hope onto her back, and he kissed her.

  * * *

  Three months later, certain she was carrying a child, Hope made an appointment with their family doctor in hope of confirming her suspicions. She stepped out of Doc’s office, looked toward Adam, placed her hands on her stomach, and beamed with pride.

  “I was not expecting success to occur as quickly,” she admitted. “I was enjoying practicing.”

  Smiling, Adam winked at his wife.

  Nana and Papa visited regularly as did Nanny and Marcus. Once a month Poppa gathered the family to see the progress of the hotel they were constructing. Adam expressed his awe of the innovative design of the structure each and every time.

  * * *

  Hope’s days remained busy as her pregnancy progressed. She assisted with the children and managed the finances associated with adoptions and donations. Cherishing her time with her family, she and Izabella would take the buggy to her childhood home, pick up Vicki and Matthew, and continue to the city to complete errands. Evenings were spent decorating and preparing the nursery.

  Entering her seventh month, Hope walked new parents to the door with their infant child. Spasms shot through her stomach, crippling her with shooting pain and nausea. She fought to remain upright and keep a smile on her face. She waved goodbye. The door slipped from her hand, slamming with a hard thud. The kitchen offered the quickest route to the addition. The family had agreed they would stay out of the room especially when meals were being prepared.

  Desperate to reach the privacy of her quarters, she hurried through the kitchen, past the long wooden counter. The volunteer staff looked her way, but she avoided their faces. Her focus remained glued on the door leading to the family dining area. The pain intensified with each step. Agony raked her belly, bringing tears to her eyes. The door to the dining area seemed miles away. She placed her hand under her enlarged stomach, praying for the pain to subside.

  Finally reaching the door, she grabbed the handle with her sweat-slicked hand. Hope pushed the door open, almost falling into the room. She managed to close the door behind her. Privacy. I want my bedroom. Looking at the staircase, her body seized with unbearable cramps. Hope fell to her knees.

  Unable to move, she stared blankly at the wooden legs supporting the chairs and table. Hoping to pull herself up, she lost her balance and fell onto her side. Excruciating, nauseating pain paralyzed her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The baby! The baby can’t come yet, it’s far too soon. “Ad-dam!” she bellowed with every ounce of strength she could spare.

  * * *

  Hope’s anguished plea echoed throughout the walls. Stewart and Izabella stopped dead on the threshold of the orphanage. The entire building went quiet. Adam bolted from the office. “Hope!” he yelled. “Where are you?”

  A female volunteer in her mid-forties appeared. “Hope came through the kitchen moments ago.” Her voice trembled with concern. “She did not look well. She was holding her stomach.”

  Adam ran into the kitchen with Stewart and Izabella right behind. Reaching the dining room, they saw Hope laying on the floor in the fetal position, sobbing. Adam squatted beside his wife and lifted her in his arms. She cried in agony.

  “Go for our doctor and get my parents,” he commanded hoarsely. “Go in haste.”

  “I shall go,” Izabella informed Stewart. “Stay with your daughter. Assist Adam.”

  Stewart dashed up the stairwell to the second floor to get to the orphanage doctor. Adam followed slowly behind, carrying his bride. Hope was lying on her side with Adam’s chest firmly against her back when Stewart rushed into the bedroom with Doc.

  “I require time with Hope,” the doctor informed them.

  “I’ll be waiting in the hallway,” Adam informed her. “I love you, and I love our child.” He kissed the back of her head.

  The men left the room and closed the door. Standing silently in the hallway, seconds felt like an eternity. There wasn’t a sound from the room. Not a cry or a whimper, only unnerving silence.

  “Adam.”

  It was Doc’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  “I require ice, immediately. Hope is burning up with a fever.”

  Adam ran for the stairwell.

  “Where is her family doctor?” Stewart heard the orphanage doctor question.

  The doctor’s priority was normally the children of the orphanage. It was imperative the doctor remained focused on his daughter. Nothing else mattered.

  “Do not leave Hope’s side,” he ordered through the closed door.

  It sounded like a herd of wild animals on the private staircase. Stewart rushed down the hall and assisted Adam with the two blocks of ice. By the time they reached the bedroom, their family doctor arrived with Izabella. Doc took the ice into the room, and then closed the door.

  Both doctors were with Hope. His daughter and her baby were in good hands, but anxiety consumed his being. His mind filled with Hope’s face. Her anguish. A half hour later, Adam’s parents rushed down the hallway from the medical area.

  “How is Hope?” his momma asked.

  Adam shrugged his shoulders. “It’s so quiet. In all our years I cannot recall this building as quiet during the day. I’m astounded.”

  “The children are speaking in whispers. Your poppa and I will return to the main floor, manage the volunteers, and deal with any adoptions and donations.”

  “That would be appreciated.”

  The children were fed and settled for the night. Izabella brought a tray of food for Stewart and Adam. Lacking an appetite, they only nibbled. Stewart and Adam continued to wait outside the master bedroom, impatient for any information on Hope’s condition. They sat on the floor with their backs resting against the wall, staring at the closed door, nerves shattered.

  “W
e haven’t heard the sound of Hope’s voice since she screamed my name. I will never forget the anguish in her voice,” he lamented. “I’ve never seen a woman, anyone, in such pain.” He tilted his head and stared at the ceiling. “You brought Hope into my life. I beg of you. Don’t take her from me.”

  Tears streamed down Adam’s cheeks. Just as fearful, Stewart could find no soothing words of comfort. Stewart shifted his body closer, putting his arm around Adam’s shoulder. Izabella entered the hallway and walked toward them.

  “We’re not losing her,” Stewart reaffirmed with determination. The very words brought tears to his own eyes. “Natasha is with her. She will not allow our daughter to leave me—to leave us.”

  Eight hours after that horrid scream, the bedroom door opened. Both doctors emerged from the room. Stewart and Adam stood. Izabella rushed out of their sitting room and stood by Stewart’s side. The exhausted orphanage doctor walked down the hallway toward the medical area of the building.

  “Her fever broke,” their family doctor informed them. There was no smile or sign of relief on his face. “We did everything we could to save that baby. My apologies, Adam, Stewart. Hope lost the child.”

  “No-o-o,” Stewart moaned.

  Hope and Adam wanted that child so badly. He wanted to be a papa—to know a piece of Natasha would continue to live through another generation. The room next to the master bedroom had been transformed into a nursery, complete with furniture and clothing for their newborn infant. The tears dripped down his cheeks.

  Devastated, Adam never uttered a sound. Wet streaks tracked down his face. Adam’s hand covered his heart. He gasped for a breath. It dawned on Stewart that Doc had not mentioned Hope, except to say her fever had broken. Is she alive? Did she survive giving birth to the dead child? The family would comfort each other over the loss of the child, but Hope had to live. She had to be healthy. He couldn’t bury his daughter.

  “Hope,” Stewart gasped. “Pray tell….”

  “Physically, Hope shall recover,” Doc assured them. “She’s exhausted, but she is a strong woman. Given some time, if Hope is willing, I’m confident in her ability to bear a child.”

  Stewart and Adam let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

  “Doc, the baby?” Adam questioned. “What was it?”

  “A girl.”

  “Our daughter,” he said brokenly.

  Adam and Stewart extended their hands to their doctor and then stared blankly as Izabella led him down the hall to the staircase. Stewart closed the door joining the orphanage medical area to their home. He had expected Adam to join his wife, but the young man never moved.

  “I will leave when you are ready to enter,” he whispered, placing a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Take the moment you require to regain your composure.”

  Hope lay on her bed, staring out the window into the dark night. Stewart approached her bed, took her hand in his, and kissed her forehead. She didn’t move, or attempt to wipe the tears from her own cheeks.

  “My heart is grieving with yours, Hope,” he informed her, keeping his voice lowered. “I love you.” He stood in silence until he heard movement by the door. Turning, Adam had entered the room and Izabella was standing at the door. He released his daughter’s hand and walked out of the room, leaving Hope with her husband. He closed the door behind them.

  “I cannot imagine the pain in her heart.” Izabella sobbed. “She cherished that baby with her entire being.”

  “We must update the staff and Adam’s parents,” Stewart reminded her.

  Holding Izabella’s hand, he led her toward the medical area and down the main staircase.

  After a short visit, Izabella leaned toward Stewart.

  “I placed clean towels in the spare room. The sheets have been pulled down. Encourage the Venderkemp’s to retire here for the evening,” she whispered to Stewart. “They are equally exhausted and will appreciate speaking with Hope and Adam in the morning.” She rose off the sofa and turned to face their company.

  “I’m retiring for the evening. Goodnight.”

  “I won’t be long,” Stewart replied.

  Adam’s parents followed Stewart up the steps a short time later.

  * * *

  The bed shifted, stirring her. Without uttering a sound, Adam changed into his sleeping attire and crawled in beside Hope. Putting his arm around his wife, he embraced her. Needing to feel his arms around her and to draw on his emotional strength, Hope placed her hand on her husband’s forearm. Exhausted from the trauma of the day, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  The breaking dawn woke Hope. Please let that be nothing but a terrible, terrible nightmare. Hope felt around the bed for her husband. Nothing. Where are you? She struggled to pry her eyes open. Adam slept on the wing chair? He must be uncomfortable. It’s impossible that he had a good night’s sleep. Why isn’t Adam sleeping by my side? It wasn’t a dream. I lost our baby. Tears raced down her cheeks. She sobbed and then felt his arms around her.

  “I hoped it was a bad dream, but it was not.”

  “Nay,” he admitted. He yawned.

  “The children?”

  “Izabella informed Momma and Poppa. They arrived in haste, allowing your poppa, Izabella, and me to stay close to you. My parents spent the night and will be assisting us again today.”

  “I’m grateful for their help. My apologies, Adam,” she whispered. “I know you’re grieving as I am.”

  “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. Doc is confident, once you’re ready, we shall still be able to become parents.”

  Hope nodded. In time, they would be parents. She would hold their baby in her arms. Somewhat reassured, Hope closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  * * *

  “How is the patient?” Stewart asked, keeping his voice lowered.

  “She is aware she lost the child,” Adam responded quietly. He closed the door to their bedroom. “She has fallen back to sleep. I’m not accustomed to seeing you so late in the day. You’re normally walking out the door at this hour.”

  “After retrieving Doc and your parents, Izabella informed my parents and Greg and Vicki. I’m expecting my father to assist Greg at the site.”

  “I’m surprised Vicki didn’t come yesterday.”

  “Matthew was in bed with a tummy ache. I expect Vicki to arrive after breakfast. Regardless, I’m not leaving this building. I will be available to assist with Hope and the children.”

  “That is much appreciated,” Adam whispered and then yawned. “If it’s quiet, I may sneak off in the afternoon for a nap.”

  * * *

  The fresh scent after a rainfall and the sound of children playing outside woke Hope. Nana, Poppa, Nanny and Vicki arrived to visit. Although disappointed by the miscarriage, she smiled while speaking with them, knowing in time, they would have their house full of children. Hopeful for another daughter, they did not use the name they had chosen but instead called their stillborn baby Mary.

  Two days after the miscarriage, they buried Mary Venderkemp in the small cemetery behind the orphanage. Adam placed a small cross with the date etched in the wood to mark the grave.

  * * *

  “Poor Hope,” Keeghan sympathized. “It would be bad enough miscarrying early, but at that stage….”

  Alexander directed their attention back to the screen.

  Chapter Four

  Leaving Adam in the office to complete the day’s paperwork, Hope wandered up the main staircase. She stopped and spoke with the young child in the infirmary and then looked into the orphanage nursery. Two babies were born the previous evening. Both their adopting mommas looked up, smiled and continued rocking their babies. Hope walked the hallway, entered their private quarters and continued to her father’s quarters. She raised her fist to knock on her father’s open door.

  “Come in, Hope.”

  Izabella stood to go to the other sitting room.

  “Do not feel compelled to leave,” Hope remarked.


  “I’m comfortable in my own company. Enjoy your visit with your poppa.”

  Hope sat on the chair to the left of the sofa. “Have you found contentment within the building?” she asked her father.

  “Very much so. The children keep a person young at heart.”

  “I love Adam and the orphanage, but miss the house. I miss seeing Aunt Vicki and Uncle Greg.”

  “Life within their home has changed with the birth of Matthew. They are building a life with their new family.”

  “Before we wed, I always enjoyed my time at the orphanage, but cherished the evenings Adam came to swim.” Suddenly, the vision became clear in her mind. Adam was at ease, playful in the water. That is what I miss.

  “I have vivid, wonderful memories of playing in the water with Natasha and then you. Teaching you how to swim. Your momma’s expression when I took our nude little girl into the water was priceless. You splashed before you were able to walk or crawl.”

  “I enjoyed those sections of the diary. Many wonderful memories were created at the pond behind Nana and Papa’s cottage.”

  “Memories I will always cherish.”

  “And then with Aunt Vicki, Uncle Greg, Izabella, and eventually, Adam. Our family. Is it possible to have a pond at the back of the orphanage property? Beyond the children’s access?”

  His attention shifted toward the ceiling. “If it was enclosed with a fence and locked gate, I believe it could be possible.” He turned his attention back to her. “But you must discuss the idea with Adam.”