by Janet Dean
“I’m not proud of that. I’m not proud of anything surrounding Ben’s beginnings, but I’m not the same man I was then.”
His father’s gaze sought the floor. “I suppose neither of us is,” he said softly. “We—”
Luke’s mother laid a hand on his father’s arm. “Thomas.”
“Edna, I should say it. Don’t you think it’s time? Time we both stopped pretending?”
His mother’s face crumbled, her high society facade dropping away like a cloak falling to the floor. “Maybe it is.”
Thomas took a step closer. “I came here intending to bring Ben home to New York, to hire a lawyer, if necessary, to obtain legal custody of our grandson.” He gave a wry smile. “I’m used to getting what I want.”
“Or getting rid of what you don’t,” Luke said softly, almost on a whisper.
A flash of pain passed over his father’s face. “Exactly. While we’ve cooled our heels at the hotel, your mother and I’ve had time to think, to face and admit mistakes we’ve made.” Tears filled his father’s eyes. “You’re not the only one who isn’t proud of the way he’s treated his son,” he said, his words ending in a sob.
The words triggered a parade of memories, none of them happy. But how could Luke hold a grudge when he’d done much the same?
Tears streaming down his face, his father stuck out his hand. “What do you say, Luke? Let’s leave the past where it belongs.”
Could he? Could he move on and put all that had happened between him and his parents behind him? It struck Luke then that if he truly intended to please God, he had no choice in the matter.
He took his father’s hand and shook it. “Ben’s a wonderful boy, thanks to Mary. Don’t hurt him…”
“…like we hurt you,” his mother said softly. “You and Joseph.”
Thomas sighed. “We can’t live it over. But we can give our grandson what we failed to give our sons—a home he knows with the people he loves.”
Thinking of Ben thrust into an orphanage, carried by train to live with strangers, Luke swallowed past the lump wedged in his throat. “You’re not the only ones who’ve run from responsibility. I’ve made a mess of things.”
“You’re not the villain you make yourself out to be.”
Thomas’s words filtered through him, soothing the anguish swirling inside him. That his father had cared enough to do that tore at his composure. “God’s forgiven me for every mistake and has given me a second chance.” His voice broke. “I can’t do less.” Then Luke put his arms around his father.
Thomas hugged him back. “I’m sorry, son.”
His mother joined the circle of forgiveness. Luke couldn’t remember the last time they’d even touched each other. Tears—healing tears—streaked down their faces. Perhaps in time, his parents would find God and receive the ultimate healing for their pasts.
Mopping his eyes with a handkerchief, Thomas cleared his throat. “What are you going to do about Ben? Have you made plans?”
Luke walked to the window, looking past Doc’s quarters to the town beyond, then turned back. “I’ve decided to move here permanently. Ben loves his mother and brothers. He needs to be near his family.”
His father’s brow furrowed. “You mention a mother and brothers—what of a father?”
“Mary’s a widow.”
A smile stole over Thomas’s face. “So marry the woman and make a family for Ben.”
“It’s not that simple. I love Mary, but I…I’ve lost her trust.” He sank onto a chair, dropping his head in his hands.
A knock at the door jerked Luke to his feet.
On the staircase landing, Doc held Ben’s hand. His son smiled up at him, his sweet face tugging at the last remnant of Luke’s composure. His parents huddled behind him, eager to get a first glimpse of their grandson.
Henry slapped a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Mary came into the office this morning with the boys. She told Ben you’re staying. He wanted to see you.”
“Hi, son.”
Ben’s eyes grew as wide as his grin. “Hi, Dad.”
Luke itched to scoop his son into his arms and hold him close, but too much enthusiasm might alarm him. “Come in.”
“Another time,” Doc said, then mumbled an excuse why Mary hadn’t brought Ben herself. Luke introduced his parents, then Doc patted Ben’s shoulder. “Have fun with your dad.” Henry pivoted, heading down the stairs.
Ben held up paper and pencils. “Can we make pictures?”
Luke tousled his son’s hair. “Sure.”
His parents stepped closer, their gazes feasting on their grandson, swallowing him up. His mother’s eyes brimmed with tears. “What a handsome boy.”
“Hello, Ben,” Thomas said, his voice cracking with emotion.
His parents’ reaction to his son welled up inside of Luke, banging against his heart, crumbling the last trace of his doubt about the change in his parents.
Ben stepped to Luke’s side, leaning against his legs. “Ben, these are my parents, your grandfather and grandmother Jacobs.” Luke laid a protective hand on his shoulder. “This is my son, Ben.”
“Hi,” Ben said in a shy tone Luke barely recognized.
Smiling, his mother bent at the waist and cupped Ben’s chin, tilting his face to hers. “You look like your father did at your age.” Edna glanced at Luke, then back at Ben. “Time goes by too fast. If only…” She bit her lip then forced a tremulous smile. “Look at those beautiful big brown eyes. Don’t they melt your heart?”
Yearning filled Thomas’s gaze. “Sure do.”
His father shook Ben’s hand, and the boy grinned, proud to be part of this adult greeting.
A beam of sunlight lit the table as they gathered around it, drawing houses and people, a dog or two. Laughing at what the adults obviously considered pathetic efforts while Ben praised each drawing, finding the good in it, as he always had in Luke.
Tired of the confines of a chair, Ben scrambled down, leaving his stick figure family behind. “I have three grandpas and two grandmas. And two brothers and three cousins.” He whirled in circles, joy bubbling out of him like an underground stream. “And the most bestest mom and dad in the world!”
Luke’s eyes misted, awed at Ben’s delight with his growing family and his inclusion of him as his dad. Well, he felt the same about Ben, the bestest son in the universe.
Thomas ruffled Ben’s hair. “Who are these people, Ben?”
“You and Grandpa Lawrence and Grandpa and Grandma Willowby are all mine,” Ben crowed.
Luke hugged Ben close as he explained that poor health compelled the Willowbys to give up their custody of Ben, that his son had been living with Mary, Michael and Philip for months.
Ben tugged on Thomas’s arm. “I didn’t have nobody. Now I have…” He held up his hands, dancing his pinkies and thumbs, trying to count his family, then frowned. “I need more fingers.”
Everyone chuckled. Ben looked puzzled, then his face lit with a huge grin, obviously happy to be the center of attention.
His parents took a seat on the couch and tucked their grandson between them. “How old are you, Ben?”
Ben folded his thumb into his palm. “Four.”
His mother tapped each finger, and Ben counted along. Had she played this game with him as a very small boy? From the natural way she interacted with Ben, Luke suspected she had. His throat clogged.
“Besides drawing, what do you like to do, Ben?”
Luke blinked. When had his father cared what a child did?
“I like to fish. I like storybooks. I like to play ball.” He pointed to Luke. “My dad bought me a big ball with stars.”
“I’d like to read some of those books to you, Ben,” his mother said.
Thomas smiled. “I’ve fished from boats but never from the bank. Maybe you could show me a good spot to throw out a line.”
Ben bounced on the seat. “I know where! Can I show him, Luke, I mean, Dad?”
“I doubt my parents will be
in town long enough to fish.”
“Yes, we will. We want to spend time with our grandson. If he’s staying, we are too.”
Luke’s jaw dropped. Nothing could have surprised him more. “Don’t you have a business to run? Functions you can’t miss?”
His father draped an arm across the back of the sofa. “I have an excellent staff. The business runs like a well-oiled machine whether I’m there or not.”
His mother tugged Ben close. “What event could possibly be as important as getting to know our grandson?”
Memories rose in his mind, each one a rebuttal against their claim. “I can think of lots of things that kept you occupied when I was a child. Let’s see, the theater, your club, dinner parties, teas, strolls in Central Park, balls—”
“You like balls!” Ben clapped his hands. “We can’t throw them inside. Mom says we have to play in the backyard.” His face brightened. “You can play with me and my brothers!”
“That’s exactly what we’ll do, Ben,” his father said.
Luke tried to wrap his mind around the change in his parents. Was all this for real?
If this miracle had come about, dare he hope for a miracle in his own life too?
With Mary?
Mary sat at her desk, trying to go over her father’s books. Michael and Philip stood across from her, their faces glum. “Why can’t we visit Luke?” Philip said, his sad eyes tearing at Mary’s heart.
“We need to give Luke and Ben some time alone…to get acquainted. Maybe next visit you all can go.” Hoping to change the subject, she said, “I brought some cookies. They’re in Grandpa’s kitchen.”
That was all it took. The boys raced off, leaving Mary with her thoughts. Her father had told her Luke’s parents were there when he dropped off Ben. She’d tried to turn the visit over to God, but her nerves twanged as she waited to pick him up and return her son to his family.
But now the Jacobses were his family too.
Until she saw for herself that Luke’s parents wouldn’t harm Ben as they had Luke, she couldn’t have peace about their presence in Ben’s life.
“Want to take a walk?”
Frank stood only a step away, looking very handsome, his hair impeccably combed, and his clothes hanging on his lean frame with elegance. The serious expression in his eyes suggested he had something on his mind.
“I’d like that,” she said, her pulse skittering. What did Frank want to discuss that he couldn’t say right here in the office?
Grabbing her shawl off the back of her chair, she wrapped it around her shoulders. The days were colder now. She stepped down the hall to inform her father they were leaving. He promised to keep an eye on the boys.
Outside, she and Frank strolled south, heading away from the center of town. He took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I think you know I care about you, Mary. You and your sons.”
Her breath caught. “Yes, I do.”
Frank stopped, turning her toward him. She looked into his eyes. Frank was kind, a good man. Somewhat pompous perhaps, but his values, his background, his calm manner would make him a good father for the boys. But did she care for him the way she should? The way a wife should feel for a husband?
“I was shocked to learn Luke is Ben’s father.”
“So was I.”
“It complicates things, but we’re all adults. If you care for me, we’ll find a way to blend our lives together for Ben’s sake.”
At his words, her heart stuttered in her chest. He’d said we, blend, our. That could only mean—“What are you asking?”
“We’re a good fit, you and I. We both love medicine. We share a strong faith in God. I admire your intelligence, your giving nature, the mother you are to your sons. We’d make a good team.”
Frank’s praise settled around her. He liked who she was. That meant a great deal. He didn’t have her heart, but with time maybe…
“Don’t you agree we’re much alike?”
“Yes, in many ways we are.”
“I’d be a good husband to you, a good father to your sons and any other children we might have.”
“I know you would.” Could she marry this man, knowing she didn’t love him? But knowing he’d do all he could to make them happy?
“You would understand the long hours, the pressure of building my career. The need to move.”
A chill streaked down Mary’s spine. She wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself. “Move?”
“You’ve told me you’d like to travel. We’ll see the country as I further my goals. It’ll be an adventure. With you and the boys at my side, I’ll have the support, the family, that’ll help me stay grounded…no matter how high I rise in my profession.”
A gust of wind swirled and, spinning like a tiny twister, lifted fallen leaves and skipped across the ground, much like her churning thoughts. How could she leave this town? “But…Ben’s here.”
“Are you sure Luke will stay here forever? Might he end up back East?”
“Luke says he won’t uproot Ben.” Could she be sure?
“Well, then Ben can come for visits in the summer.”
“Have you forgotten my plans to work in my father’s practice, to continue his legacy here in Noblesville?”
“I understand that’ll be a sacrifice, but I’ll give you and your sons a good life, Mary. You’ll have the freedom to do whatever you want. To get your education, become a doctor and practice medicine or stay home with the children.” He took a deep breath then turned to her with a smile, as if he was giving her the gift she’d waited for all her life. “I’ll take good care of all of you. I love you, Mary. Say you’ll be my wife.”
The door to Luke’s apartment swung open. At the sight of Luke’s familiar face, Mary’s heart thundered beneath her corset. His gaze roamed over her, devouring her, or so she felt. Then behind him, a scene slammed into Mary’s gut. Ben and a couple who could only be Luke’s parents sat at his table eating slices of apple, the smiles they wore evidence the visit had gone well. She didn’t know whether to be happy about that or not.
“Hi, Mom!” Ben scrambled from his seat and plunged into her skirt. “I got new grandparents!”
Luke introduced the Jacobses. Their eyes shone at Ben’s declaration. Mary had expected harsh lines and stern eyes, not the soft gentle expressions of people obviously smitten with Ben.
“Ben’s a great little boy, Mrs. Graves,” Mr. Jacobs said.
Mary smiled. “I think so too.” Mary took Ben by the hand. “Michael and Philip are waiting outside to play with you.”
“Son, we’ll walk out with Mrs. Graves and Ben.” His father laid an arm on Luke’s shoulder. Surprisingly, the gesture of affection didn’t appear to irk Luke like Mary would’ve expected. Perhaps Luke and his parents had found common ground with Ben.
“We’ll sit together at church tomorrow, Ben,” Luke said. He turned to his parents. “Services are at ten o’clock, if you’d like to come and spend more time with your grandson.”
Luke’s father’s brows rose, obviously startled by the idea. “Well, I suppose we, ah, could do that.”
“I’ll be at the Becker House at nine-thirty. We can walk over together.”
Mary bit back a smile. Luke had used Ben to get his parents to services. Not a bad tactic.
“Will you be at the office for a while, Mary? I’d like to talk to you.”
Something in the depths of Luke’s eyes banged against her heart. “Yes,” she said. Her voice sounded shaky even to her own ears.
A grin spread across his face. “Good.”
Outside the carriage house, Ben ran to play with Michael and Philip, leaving Mary alone with the Jacobses, who weren’t nearly as intimidating as she’d expected, both surprising and reassuring her. She needn’t worry about their conduct with her son.
“Thank you for taking care of Ben,” Mrs. Jacobs said. “He’s a delightful little boy.”
“You’re welcome to visit Ben at my home.”
“That’s
very kind of you. He’s quite the boy,” Mr. Jacobs said, then paused, meeting his wife’s gaze. She gave him a nod. “Mrs. Graves, before you go, I want to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
He cleared his throat, as if what he wanted to say lodged there. “We sent Luke’s brother away. At first we visited him, but then…well, it was easier…Guess we panicked about a disorder we didn’t understand and couldn’t face. To avoid Luke’s censure, we distanced ourselves from him too.” He lifted a hand. “Our negligence killed one child. Our aloofness hurt the other.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. Were those tears? “We’ll spend the rest of our lives regretting what we did.”
Thinking of Luke as a little boy, rejected and alone, Mary swallowed hard. Surely if his father told her this, he’d also said the same to Luke. That must explain the harmony she’d sensed between him and his parents. “It can’t be easy to admit that.”
“I’m not telling you all this to get a pat on the back.” Mr. Jacobs gave a humorless smile. “Funny, that here in this small town, I’ve had time to take a long hard look at myself…and at Luke,” he said, his eyes damp. “Be patient with him, Mrs. Graves. We wounded our son, and he’s been hiding. Afraid to get close to anyone, but that’s changing. Because of Ben and we suspect because of you.”
Though she knew the credit wasn’t hers, Mr. Jacobs’s words clung to her, filling her with hope. “Thank you for that, but the change you’ve seen is mostly because of his faith.”
“If that invitation to church is any indication, I suspect he’ll try to convert us,” his father said.
“Nothing wrong with that.” Mary smiled. “I hope you’ll come.”
Luke’s mother laid a gentle hand on Mary’s arm. “We want a second chance, a fresh start with our grandson. We appreciate your willingness to let us see Ben.”
“Ben deserves his family, Mrs. Jacobs. That family includes both of you.”
Watching Ben and his brothers kick the ball around the yard, Luke’s mother smiled. “What is it they say? And a child shall lead them? Well, that’s what happened here today. A child led us to our son, to a new beginning with him.”
