Those Children Are Ours

by David Burnett

  Both girls nodded and turned toward the car.

  Emma walked over. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Jennie looked at her arm. “Don’t know how I’ll explain this to my third-graders on Monday.”

  “Tell them the truth. You are a hero. You saved your daughter’s life.”

  “An overstatement.”

  “Not at all. He might have killed her. He might have killed you.”

  “You would have stopped him. You took him down…You saved my life…Thank you.”

  Emma placed her hand on Jennie’s shoulder. She cleared her throat. “We both looked after them. After all…those children…those children are ours.”

  Jennie stared at the ground, starting to cry, not knowing what to say.

  Emma glanced toward the girls. “We’d better go. Be seeing you.”

  Jennie watched the three of them climb into Emma’s car.

  Not likely, she thought. Not likely.

  ***

  The first Sunday of May brought the annual homecoming at Saint Paul’s Church. Jennie loved homecoming. It was early spring and the air was still crisp and cool, especially in the mornings. The churchyard was beautiful because families made an attempt to clean and decorate the cemetery during the week prior to the festivities. Cousins who you saw on no other occasion, childhood friends, old boyfriends, and random people who you passed on the street but whose names you didn’t know—they all came. The church was overflowing with people as it used to be every Sunday morning, and the food was simply fantastic.

  After making sure that her mother was seated comfortably with Sarah’s family, Jennie took a plate loaded with fried chicken, slaw, and potato salad out to the cemetery. She spread a towel on the grass and sat next to her grandmother’s plot.

  “The food is really good this year, Grandmom. The chicken, especially, although it is nothing like yours. I’ve looked for your recipe for years, but I just can’t find it.” She picked up a drumstick and took a bite. “Really good, but not yours.” She spent several minutes in silence as she ate.

  “I guess I need to fill you in on all that’s happened.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know why I feel as though you don’t know what goes on around here. I guess you do, but it makes me feel better when I tell you myself…Anyhow, the girls came for their third visit last month…”

  She told her grandmother all that had happened.

  “And that’s pretty much it, Grandmom. Daddy made a deal, but he’s is in prison and he’ll be there awhile. Kenny and Jeff are too, and Billy has gone to juvie.” She sighed. “Alexis and Christa are at home in Charleston. And I’m all alone.” She gazed up at the grounds covered with people, eating, talking, and visiting.

  “I had hoped to have them come this weekend, but…” she wiped her eyes, “that’s never going to happen. I’m never going to see them again. I…I had Alice withdraw my petition for visitation.” She put her head in her hands.

  “Everyone tells me that it wasn’t my fault, and I suppose it wasn’t, but the month before, it wasn’t my fault when Jeff came by the house, drunk, and it wasn’t my fault that Daddy got into it with Christa. It’s never my fault, but bad things happen when I’m around.” She looked up. “I just hope that they don’t hate me. I hope that they don’t remember me as a bad person…I just wanted to know my daughters.”

  As she gazed at Grandmom’s headstone, lost in thought, she caught sight of a hawk flying in a long, slow arc above the church.

  Her telephone buzzed. “Not now,” she cried. “Who would be calling now anyway?” She looked at the screen. “Thomas?” She hit accept on the last ring.

  “Hi, Jennie. Did I catch you at a bad time? We just came in and I thought you would be at home too.”

  “No, it’s not a bad time.” She switched the phone to her other ear. “I withdrew my petition, Thomas. You won’t—”

  “My attorney told me.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it, Thomas. Nothing at all. I’ve tried to make myself call you for three weeks now, but I just couldn’t decide what to say. I’m sorry seems so…so trite…Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me or visitation or anything, Thomas. I won’t bother you. I won’t try to contact the girls ever again. It was the wrong thing for me to do.”

  There was silence on the phone for several moments.

  “About that…Jennie…do you remember when the girls visited in March and you took Christa to the equestrian center?”

  “Certainly, she seemed to have a wonderful time that afternoon.”

  “Did you know that Walter Smyth, the owner, coached our Olympic team a couple of years back?”

  “Mr. Smyth? No. Did he really?”

  “He did. He’s quite well known among riders.”

  “I’d no idea.”

  Where was this going?

  “Well, the thing is, he has a school at the center during the summer. Three-week sessions. Mr. Smyth has an arrangement for his students to stay in a dormitory at the University in Carrollton and to eat in the dining hall. He only takes the very best riders and, well, Christa tried out the day she was with you.”

  “Was that what she was doing? She certainly rode well that day.”

  “So I hear. She, uh, didn’t say anything because…at the time she…we didn’t want you to know that she might be there over the summer.” He hurried on. “Anyway, her application was accepted, one of ten for the first session in June.”

  “I won’t bother her, Thomas.” Without thinking, she raised one hand as if to stop him from telling her to leave Christa alone. “Don’t worry about that. If I were to run into her, though, by accident, would it be all right…”

  Thomas didn’t seem to have heard her.

  “She’s only fourteen and I’m a bit wary of sending her off like that, living in a college dorm, and all, and…well…Christa pointed out that she has a relative who lives near the school, and she thought that, maybe, she would be able to stay with her.”

  Thomas paused. Jennie’s mouth moved, but no sound escaped. She rose to her feet.

  “With me?” she whispered. “She wants to stay with me?” Her hand went to her mouth as if to stifle a scream.

  “Now tell me if you have any plans for the first three weeks in June…”

  “Mama’s teaching me to crochet and I have a garden to tend.”

  “You’ll have to get her to and from the school six days a week, and on Sunday afternoon, too, if I know Christa.”

  “Surely. It’ll be no problem at all.” Jennie was smiling and laughing and starting to cry again. “Thomas, are you sure that this is all right with you?”

  He paused. “I’m the one calling to ask, Jennie.”

  “I’d love to have her stay with me, Thomas. Oh, thank you. I…I…”

  “There is one little wrinkle, though.”

  The smile faded from Jennie’s face.

  “Emma’s daughter, Amy, rides too.”

  “I think I heard that,” Jennie wiped her eyes.

  “She tried out for the school this past week. She was accepted, and if Christa stays with you, she would want to be there too.”

  “Emma…Emma would let her do that?”

  “The goddess was rather impressed with you.”

  “The goddess?” Jennie felt her face becoming warm. “Who…who said…”

  Thomas laughed. “The girls heard you mumbling about her one day.”

  “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

  “Emma said that you have a good grasp on reality.” He paused.

  “Alexis volunteered to drive them over. She might want to sleep on your sofa for a couple of nights.”

  “I’d love to have then come! All of them! And, Thomas, I’ll take good care of Alexis and Christa. Amy, too, of course. Always. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Emma said you did all you could to protect them, even risked your life when you tackled the guy holding a knife.”

  “We were both there
, Thomas. We both protected them.” We both looked after them,…because, after all, those children are ours.

  When Thomas finally clicked off, Jennie hugged herself, pumped her fists into the air, and shouted as loudly as she could, “My children want to see me. They are coming to visit, Grandmom,” she shouted. “Our children are coming to visit me.”

  People near the church turned to look, but she didn’t care.

  As she picked up her plate and her towel, ready to run back to the church to spread the news, the hawk settled slowly onto the ground near her grandmother’s grave. As she bent over to touch the headstone Jennie studied it and smiled. “Thank you for always being here, Grandmom. I love you.”

  Other Books

  by David Burnett

  Click the title for more information.

  To Fall in Love Again

  Class warfare may be less violent than it was in the past, but when Drew invites Amy to the St Cecelia Ball, battle lines are drawn. Family, friends, co-workers all weigh in on their relationship and choose sides.

  The Handfasting

  Steven is not Katie’s only suitor. Bill has long planned to wed her, and when she and Steven fall in love, he finally decides to stake his claim. His courtship turns violent and Katie must decide what kind of life she wants for herself.

  The Reunion

  “Wouldn’t it be great if we could crawl through a worm hole and find ourselves in high school, again?” Michael asks. He doesn’t men it literally, but when he begins to enjoy the same activities he did when he was young, his life begins to change.

  A Sample of

  To Fall in Love Again

  Diana

  Drew opened the door slowly. Its hinge often squeaked, and he did not want it to disturb Di. He walked across the dark room and settled into the chair beside her bed. The small lamp on the table cast a warm glow across her face as she slept. The only sound was her breathing, soft and regular.

  He reached out and took her hand in his. She stirred, but she did not awaken. He studied her face, memorizing each curve. Soon, he would have nothing else left of her.

  His eyes traced down and, just as he’d expected, in her right hand she held a small wooden panel, the size of a photograph. It brought her peace, and when she’d checked in to the nursing home she had insisted on bringing it. On one side was a picture, an icon of the death of Jesus’s mother. In the picture, Mary lay on a bed, her eyes closed, surrounded by the apostles. Jesus, himself, stood beside her, holding a baby wrapped in white cloths.

  The baby is Mary’s soul, Di had told him. Jesus came to take her home.

  Earlier, when Drew had tried to convince Diana she would be coming home soon, she had agreed, but she’d meant it in a different way than he had. She had said she was going home and that Jesus would come to take her, the same way he had taken Mary.

  A tear slid down his cheek.

  Di’s eyes fluttered opened. She saw him and smiled. “Soon,” she murmured. “Maybe tonight.”

  “No. Don’t be silly. You’re going to be fine.” His eyes filled with tears. The man who could look objectively at his patients couldn’t do the same with his wife.

  “You’re the eternal optimist, aren’t you?” She smiled at him. “I’ve always loved that in you. You’ve pulled me through one crisis after another, always sure that things would turn out well in the end.” Her eyes cut back to the icon. “I don’t think it will work this time.”

  Drew gazed at her face. To him, she looked just as she had thirty years earlier. To him, her blue eyes sparkled as they had on the day they’d first met; her blond hair shone as it had on the beach their first summer together; not a single wrinkle creased her face.

  His heart twisted painfully in his chest. Di made a weak effort to squeeze his hand, and he took hers in both of his. She spoke so softly that he could barely hear her, so he leaned closer.

  “Drew, listen to me. When I’m gone, there is something I want you to do for me.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. You know that.”

  “I want you to remarry.”

  “Let’s not talk about—”

  “I want you to remarry. Drew, I’ve known you for thirty years. You will be miserable alone. Find someone nice, someone pretty.” A smile crossed her face. “Someone sexy.”

  “Like you?” He smiled as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

  “Exactly.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “That’s a high standard.”

  She nodded. “You deserve the best. I talked to Jennifer about it. She’ll make sure that you follow through.”

  Drew shook his head. She had talked to their daughter about him remarrying.

  “Promise me, Drew. Please.”

  “I won’t be alone. I promise.”

  She smiled. “Good. Follow your heart. It won’t lead you astray.” She took a deep breath. “You know that love never ends, so I’ll never really leave you, Drew. Look for me. I’ll be around.”

  He patted her arm, not able to speak.

  “I’m tired now, Drew. I think I’ll sleep some more.”

  ***

  It was almost midnight and Di suddenly sat up straight in bed. Drew jumped, startled. He had fallen asleep in the chair beside her, as he had almost every night during the month that she’d been in the nursing home. In fact, he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of nights he had slept at home during that time.

  “Remember your promise,” she murmured.

  Drew reached for her, a smile drifting across her face. Then, she pressed the icon against her chest and slowly sank back into the bed.

  He sensed that it was time—that she was slipping away from him. He grasped her hand, desperate, trying to hold on to her. Drew felt a single, faint squeeze, and then her hand was limp.

  The tightness in his chest turned to a deep, soul-reaching ache, and he sat like that for a few minutes, holding her hand and murmuring a prayer for her—although, he was certain that she did not need his help.

  But what now?

  It was finally over. The woman he had vowed to love forever was gone, and he was alone. She was not supposed to leave him. Not now. Not so soon. Not ever. She had made him promise that he would remarry, but how could he do that? How could he replace her? How could he ever be able to fall in love again?

  Amy

  The sun broke through the clouds as Amy approached the city. She had been driving non-stop for almost six hours and she wanted to pull over and walk for a few minutes, but she kept driving. She slowed to fifty-five as she reached the perimeter highway, even though the other drivers appeared to ignore the posted limit. She recalled the saying that speed limits in Atlanta were suggestions rather than rules.

  She glanced at the directions to the hotel. Just a few more miles. The traffic was heavy—when was Atlanta traffic not heavy?—but at least it was moving.

  Fifteen minutes later, she took the Peachtree exit. The hotel was ahead on the right, so Amy pulled into a parking garage and walked the last block.

  As she entered the lobby, Amy turned around, taking it all in. It was breathtaking—the atrium soaring twenty stories high and flowers hanging from boxes on every floor. Clear lights twinkled on the trees in the lobby, and water splashed in a fountain. A small shop proudly brewed Starbucks, and she could see french pastries displayed in the window. She understood that the hotel boasted a five-star restaurant. It was a wonderful place for the romantic getaway that she had dreamed about so many times.

  People milled around, chatting. A sign above a long table on the right read Convention Registration, and a crowd had gathered in front. Jack must have made the reservation a long time ago, must have planned this, to be able to get a room, she thought.

  Amy walked to the hotel’s desk. It was three o’clock, a large group was checking in, and she waited in line for a clerk. Finally, a young woman looked up.

  “May I help you?”

  “I’m Amy Barrett. My husband checked in yesterday, b
ut I just reached town. I need a key.” The clerk looked at her uncertainly. “Here’s my ID.” Amy smiled.

  The man standing behind Amy gave an exasperated sigh, and the clerk glanced at him with a nervous expression. She quickly checked Amy’s ID, located the room, and handed her a key. “Here you are, Mrs. Barrett. You are in the Richardson Suite. Have a nice stay.”

  Amy took the key and walked toward the elevator. A suite, she thought. Nice.

  She hesitated outside of the room, hoping Jack was not inside. She wanted to surprise him.

  She inserted the key and quietly opened the door. The curtains were not drawn and sunlight streamed into the living room. As she looked for a place to hide, she heard sounds coming from the bedroom. Now would have to do for her big surprise.

  She wanted to capture the expression on Jack’s face when he saw her. Reaching into the pocket of her parka, she pulled out her camera, powered it on, and switched on the flash. Portraits taken with flash were seldom flattering, she knew, but these would not make it to Facebook. They were for her attorney.

  Amy thrust open the door, flooding the room with light as she stepped into it. Sure enough, there was her husband, Jack, and he was definitely surprised…as was Marci, his secretary.

  He looked over his shoulder and, as Amy raised her camera, he threw himself across Marci, as if perhaps he thought Amy held a pistol. How chivalrous.

  Amy pointed the camera and held the shutter down, firing off several shots, the flash popping repeatedly. She stepped quickly to the side to make sure that she could see Marci’s face and took another series.

  As if finally aware what was going on, Jack jumped from the bed. As he lunged for the camera, Amy took one last shot. He threw his hands to his face, as if blinded by the flash at the close distance.

  “Surprise,” Amy mumbled under her breath as she walked quickly out of the room and left the suite.