“Look at her,” Dad said. “She’s sucking on her lip in her sleep.”
Her tiny rosebud lip was tucked in. They were so beautiful, so fragile. Jade couldn’t believe they were hers. What a precious gift. Her heart felt so full, she nearly burst with it.
“Okay, we know the names,” PJ said. “But which one is which?”
Jade looked at her mom. “How do I choose?”
Mom chuckled. “Don’t ask me. Mine were a boy and a girl.”
Jade looked between the babies, stopping on the blue eyes that stared back at her. “Well, since your sister is sleeping through this monumental occasion, we’ll start with you, little girl.”
Jade stared into her eyes. Little muscles puckered between her brows. A deep thinker. The baby blinked, her gaze steady and old beyond her age. “You’re Ava.” Jade pressed a kiss to Ava’s forehead.
Jade looked at the other bundle, so slight in her arms. “And you, my little sleepyhead, are Mia.”
Dad set his hands on their capped heads. His face grew serious. He blinked against the tears, quoting softly. “Children are a gift of the Lord, the fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one’s youth.”
Her babies’ faces blurred under the onslaught of emotions.
Dad set a gentle kiss on each tiny head. “Welcome to the McKinley family, girls.”
When Jade woke next, her mom was by the bed reading a magazine.
“Where are the babies?” Jade’s voice sounded hoarse.
Mom held the water jug to Jade’s lips. “In the nursery sleeping. Want me to get them?”
“Yeah, I’d like to try feeding them again.” Her eyes swung to the flowers on the bedside table as Mom set the jug on it.
She pulled the card from the envelope and read it. Congratulations, Jade. They are so beautiful. Love, Daniel. A knot formed in her throat.
“He came in while you were sleeping. He didn’t want to wake you.”
Jade nodded and Mom left the room to get the babies.
She pictured Daniel standing over her bed, watching her sleep, wishing things were different. She wondered if he’d held the babies. Wondered if he’d touched her as she’d slept. A knot swelled in her throat as she closed her fingers around the card, curling it into her palm.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
JADE ROCKED MIA IN THE CHAIR, PATTING HER BACK. AVA was already down for the night, and Jade was enjoying a quiet moment with Mia before she turned in.
When Mia let out a soft burp, Jade dropped a kiss on her head and laid her in the crib. She changed into pajamas and headed toward the kitchen.
She could hear her mom fixing a late-night snack. Mom had been staying with her this week, helping with midnight feedings and running errands since Jade couldn’t drive yet.
Between family and church Jade had enough casseroles for the next month. The apartment had been overwhelmed with flower arrangements, balloons, and McKinleys. Now, a week later, the flowers were gone, the pink balloons shriveled. Her mom was going home tomorrow.
Jade’s eyes drifted to the one remaining arrangement—Daniel’s. Daisies, her favorite, bloomed from a vase, a pink bow circling the neck.
“Is she down?” Mom asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Out like a light.” Jade filled her hospital mug with fresh water. “And I’m right behind her.”
“I’ll take the feedings tonight,” Mom said. “You’d better rest up. You’re on your own starting tomorrow.”
“We can alternate. I don’t want to send you home overtired.”
“I have many sleep-filled nights in my future.” Mom patted her shoulder. “You, not so much. Now off to bed, sweetie.”
Jade gave in. It was useless to argue. She peeked in on the babies on her way by. Their tiny chests rose with each sweet breath. She never got tired of watching them.
There had been some frantic moments when Ava and Mia were both awake and hungry or in need of a change. But mostly they slept. They were so different. Ava had a capful of dark hair, while Mia had just a dusting. Ava’s eyes only grew brighter blue, while Mia’s had shifted toward green.
Little bits of their personalities emerged. Ava loved her pacifier while Mia preferred her fingers. Ava liked to be watched. If you stared into her eyes it calmed her, and she’d drift away peacefully. Mia, on the other hand, fidgeted under her perusal. She rested easily when Jade’s attention was elsewhere.
Jade fell more deeply in love with them each day. Even when she dragged herself from bed for three a.m. feedings, her heart squeezed when she cuddled her girls in her arms, when she watched their delicate eyelids drift shut, when she held their tiny fists in her hands.
She hadn’t seen Daniel. She knew he was giving her space, but still his absence hurt. She missed him. She longed to see her girls cradled in his arms like fragile footballs. Longed to hear him calling them Peanut and Nugget. He’d been right. Two girls.
She drew a breath, but the air didn’t fill the hollow space inside. Nothing helped except the oblivion of sleep. She left the nursery, her mind turning to more pressing problems.
She’d planned on six weeks of maternity leave, but who knew how long it would take to find a job? Her family had put out feelers. She needed something soon. Her little nest egg would barely cover a month’s rent, and now she had the extra expenses of supplemental formula and diapers.
Jade pulled open her nightstand drawer and rooted for her lip balm. As she dug around, she spotted the notes and cards she’d tucked away a year and a half earlier. Her secret admirer.
She pulled out the top one, a new realization setting her pulse racing. Her eyes scanned the typed poem. Had Daniel sent this? Sent all these notes, left the flowers?
She recalled the note she’d received when she returned to town, the one that had been left at her mom’s store. The one that had made her freak and spill her fears to Daniel. She hadn’t received another after that.
The empty place inside spread outward, swallowing everything in its wake. Of course she hadn’t. Because Daniel would never intentionally frighten her.
“Honey, where’s Ava’s paci?” Mom stopped at the threshold, silently taking in the note in Jade’s hand.
“I left it in her crib.”
“What’s that?”
Jade slipped the note into her drawer and pushed it closed. “Just a note.”
She didn’t want to think about Daniel, and she wouldn’t allow herself to read the notes and poems imagining him as the author.
Mom saw right through her. “He’s loved you a long time, you know.”
Her heart gave a hard squeeze, and suddenly breathing became a chore. “Don’t, Mom.”
Jade didn’t want to know anything. Didn’t want to know how long or when he’d first realized he loved her or how long her mom had known. She didn’t want to think about how much she’d hurt him over the years or how much he was hurting now. She couldn’t bear the thought.
Mom perched on the bed beside Jade. “Honey, I don’t know exactly what’s going on or how you’re feeling. But are you sure you and Daniel can’t make this work? I was starting to sense that you were falling—”
“No. It’s over, Mom.” She kept her eyes on the rings she twisted on her finger. Her mom saw too much.
“Are you still in love with their father? Is that it?”
“What? No.”
She’d never told the story, and her family had never pressed her. But they would now that the babies were born. They’d think the father should know. And of course under normal circumstances, they’d be right. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And there was no reason to keep it from them anymore. Her mom could handle this now. And Jade knew forgetting was an impossibility if they started hounding her about it—and they would.
“I was never in love with him, Mom. We—we had one date and he—” She found her mom’s eyes, tried to prepare her before she just spilled it out like yesterday’s milk. “It was
date rape, Mom.”
Mom gasped. “Oh, baby.” She pulled Jade into a hug and clutched her tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jade shook her head against Mom’s shoulder. This wouldn’t change the way they felt about her girls, would it?
“I just wanted to forget it. I didn’t want to keep reliving it. I don’t really remember much—he drugged me.”
Her mom made a deep sound in her throat and looked at her with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d been there for you.”
“Izzy helped me through it. I wasn’t alone. She was a really good friend.”
“Did you report it?”
“I didn’t even know his last name. He was just a regular customer, and I thought I knew him pretty well. Obviously not. I know I should’ve reported it. But by the time I felt strong enough to handle it, it was too late. There was no evidence, and I couldn’t even give them a name. I just wanted to move past it.”
“And then you found out you were pregnant?”
“Yeah.” She told her mom about everything from the aftermath to the discovery of the pregnancy. It all seemed so long ago now. “A part of me was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to love them.” Jade breathed a laugh. “I was so wrong. I couldn’t love them more. Sometimes I—” She wasn’t sure she wanted to complete the thought.
“What, honey?”
She’d never vocalized what had been growing in her heart since their birth. The fear that spread, consuming her, driving her to check their cribs every time she woke at night.
“I love them so much. Sometimes I’m petrified of losing them. I watch them sleep and worry they’ll stop breathing in the night.” She found her mom’s eyes. “Will I ever get used to it?”
“Used to having your heart run around outside your body?” Mom shook her head. “Not really. But if you learn to trust God with them, it gets easier. He loves them too. He has a plan for them and for you. You just have to trust that He knows what He’s doing. It’s not always easy.”
She knew her mom was thinking of losing Michael. It had about killed them all when he’d died. Had his death been God’s plan? For what purpose? She supposed they’d never know.
Jade didn’t know if she was capable of trusting like her mom. She hoped so. Because she didn’t want to live her life in fear.
“You’ve been through so much. You’re so strong, Jade.”
She wasn’t strong. She hadn’t felt anywhere near strong until Daniel had come alongside her. Until Daniel had helped her and protected her and—loved her.
Now he was gone, and she was on her own.
Not on her own. She had her two precious girls, and she was going to be strong for them.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
DANIEL SHOVELED THE LAST BITE OF TURKEY INTO HIS mouth and chewed without tasting. Across his grandmother’s table, his mom and dad chatted about the holiday decorations they were having installed on their DC home.
The chandelier was dimmed in the formal dining room, and centerpiece candles flickered from a nest of pine in the middle of the table. Outside the bay window snow fell diagonally, a thin layer already sticking to the ground. The season’s first snowfall. They were expecting three inches, though the first precipitation had come in the form of sleet. He was almost certain to have an emergency call or two tonight. Was surprised he hadn’t already.
He wondered if the McKinleys had sat down to their Thanksgiving meal yet. Normally he’d be there, but his parents had flown in this year. He’d purposely told his grandma six o’clock so he’d have a ready excuse when Mama Jo invited him.
He’d been avoiding the family gatherings since the breakup four weeks ago. Mama Jo’s feelings were hurt, but what could he do? He’d only make Jade uncomfortable. They needed space. He needed time for his broken heart to mend. Time to get over her. Though on nights like this, when his thoughts turned constantly to her, he wondered if that were a pipe dream.
Keeping busy had been easy enough. With Jade out of the office, his hours were long. The office had been so quiet, so lonely without her. He’d been eager for a couple days off. But now that they’d arrived, he realized the extra time only gave more hours to think of Jade.
He’d moved his weight bench and treadmill back into the spare room. There would be no cribs, no rocking chair in there now. He’d put the equipment to good use this morning when he’d woken to the depressing realization that he had an empty day to fill.
By the time evening had arrived, he’d been relieved for the distraction of family and conversation. But his mom’s barely suppressed glee over the breakup made Daniel want to smash his fist through a wall.
“What do you think, Daniel?” Mom asked.
His eyes snapped up. No idea what they were talking about.
“Black Friday,” his dad said. “Will it be more profitable this year than last?”
Daniel shrugged. “Hard to say.” Couldn’t care less, actually.
He’d nearly bought a Christmas gift when he’d been in Dunbar’s this week. A snow globe with an angel inside. When he twisted the knob it had played “All Through the Night.” He’d had two of them in his hands before he remembered his gifts wouldn’t be welcome. Heart as heavy as a boulder, he’d placed them back on the shelf.
“Honey, you’re so gloomy,” Mom said. “It’s Thanksgiving.”
Daniel gave a tight smile. “Sorry.” His eyes flickered to his grandmother. “The food’s delicious, Grandma.”
“I’ll pass your compliments on to Mrs. Pierson. She was nervous about the stuffing. It’s a new recipe, but I think I like it even better.”
“It’s a beautiful snowy night,” Mom said. “We have so much to be thankful for. This lovely meal, our health, your burgeoning campaign fund . . . Dad told me your manager said things are really moving along.”
“No business tonight, dear.”
“That’s a lovely sweater, Daniel,” Grandma said. “It looks so soft.”
He glanced down. It was the blue one his mom had given him for Christmas the year before.
“I got it at Saks,” Mom said. “It’s cashmere. Isn’t the color beautiful on him? It matches your eyes perfectly, darling.”
Conversation turned to Christmas plans. He was supposed to have been married by then. He and Jade would’ve woken on Christmas Day to celebrate the twins’ first Christmas. Their first Christmas. Maybe Jade would’ve hung stockings on the mantel and taken pictures of them with Santa hats. They would’ve taken the girls to the farmhouse. He would’ve kissed Jade under the mistletoe that hung over the kitchen threshold while the family passed the babies around.
“So we thought you could come our way this year,” Mom said.
The table grew quiet until Daniel realized they were talking to him. Come to DC for Christmas?
“Courtney would like to see you again,” Mom said. “We passed on the good news to her.”
“Victoria.”
“Well, you know what I mean. Good news for her. She was elated you were back on the market.”
Daniel gritted his teeth. “Thank you, but I think I’ll stay here.”
“I’m of the same mind.” Grandma squeezed his hand. “I’ll have you over for a delicious dinner Christmas Eve. How does that sound? We can light a fire in the parlor and play canasta like we used to.”
“There are a couple of events it would behoove you to attend, Daniel,” Mom said. “Marlin Walters has invited us over for an intimate gathering on Christmas Eve.”
“The speaker and his family will be there along with Evan Brewer and Maxwell Worthington,” Dad said. “You met them earlier in the summer at the black-tie function. The Crawfords will be there too. It would benefit you to patch up the damage you did with the ferry deal.”
What was wrong with these people, networking on Christmas Eve? Didn’t they know it was a family holiday? A time to celebrate Jesus’s birth?
“I’m sure Courtney would be happy to accompany you. In fact, I already mentioned it to her and—”
/>
“Mom. You didn’t.”
“Just in passing, dear. You can’t continue to sulk around Chapel Springs—”
Grandma stood. “Is anyone ready for coffee? I’ll just put on a pot. It’ll be nice and fresh in time for pie.”
Daniel waited until Grandma slipped into the kitchen. “I don’t want to date Courtney, Mom. And I don’t want to go to DC for Christmas. This is my home. This is where I want to spend the holidays.”
Mom set her napkin on her plate, chuckling. “Well, honey, you’d better get used to being away. When you’re a congressman, you’ll be gone more than you’re home.”
Her chuckle was a long fingernail running up his spine. “Well. Maybe I don’t want to be a congressman.” The words slipped out before the filter caught it.
Mom gasped.
Dad set his hand on Mom’s. “He doesn’t mean it.”
The thought had been there for months, lingering in the back of his mind. Years maybe. He hadn’t meant to let it slip. Hadn’t even thought it through or prayed about it. But the release of the words had eased tension in his muscles. His shoulders felt lighter, as if a heavy weight had lifted.
He loved being mayor. Why was he chasing after something else when he was content where he was? Is this right, God? Am I already where You want me? And why was he just asking now? He’d been aimed at national politics like a precision missile, and he’d never even prayed about it.
He was off course. He felt it in his gut. In his spirit.
“I like being mayor. I love the people. I have a purpose right here.”
Mom crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous. You are destined for so much more than this Podunk town!”
Dad leaned in, his blue lasers trained on Daniel. “Do you have any idea how many men would kill for the opportunities you have? You have the skills, you have the connections, you even have the support. Why would you even think of throwing all that away? We’ve been grooming you for this for years, son.”
“You never even asked me if this is what I wanted.”
Dancing with Fireflies Page 24
