by Lyn Cote
Eleanor nodded, her tension spiking again. “Yes, I did.”
“And what was their response?” Ms. Green prompted.
“My father and aunt are very supportive,” Eleanor continued even though speaking the truth clawed at her. “My mother is uncertain.” That was the best description that Eleanor could come up with.
“What are your mother’s concerns?”
“She doesn’t understand why I want a child. She thinks I should be content with my career.” Eleanor felt her hope to become a mother being sawed away from under her.
“That’s not unreasonable. Many in the older generation think that a woman should delay motherhood until she is married.”
Eleanor did not contradict Mrs. Green. How could she say, My mother didn’t want me, so how could she understand why I want a child?
“I was wondering if you’d like to meet Jenna,” Ms. Green asked.
“I would.” Eleanor clasped her hands under the table to hide her anxious excitement.
“Jenna is on one of the Little League teams in town.” Ms. Green handed her a piece of paper. “Here is the date of the next game and the time and place. Why don’t you come, and I’ll introduce the two of you and arrange for you to spend some time together after the game?”
As Eleanor took the paper, she couldn’t hide the way her hand shook. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“As for your mother’s uncertainty, let’s hope she will come to accept your desire to adopt, but remember that’s not a requirement for you to proceed.” Ms. Green stood.
Eleanor rose, too. “Yes, let’s.” Please, Lord. That will take a miracle.
“Oh!” Kerry Ann exclaimed, standing up to wave wildly from her seat on the bleachers at the youth ballpark.
From beside his mom, Pete followed her gaze and saw Eleanor with her aunt and dad walking toward the bleachers at the baseball field. He rose in surprise. Why had she come?
“Miss Ellie!” Cassie squealed, charging down the bleachers to the threesome. “Come! Sit by us!” She paused to point to the team bench across from them. “That’s my brother, Nicky, ’member?”
“Yes, I remember,” Eleanor replied, taking Cassie’s hand. With the other, she waved to Nicky, and he waved back. Then Cassie led them up to the bleacher where Pete and his mom sat. He wanted to ask why they had come, but looked to his mother. Maybe she had invited them—with matchmaking in mind?
Eleanor smiled and mouthed, “I’ll explain.”
He nodded, shaking hands with John and greeting Mavis. Then, as if she’d always known John, Cassie climbed up on his lap, leaving Pete and Eleanor side by side and his mother farther down, chatting with Mavis.
“Cassie has really taken to your dad,” he murmured to Eleanor.
She nodded, leaning close to his ear. “I’m here to meet a little girl I hope to adopt.”
Surprise rippled through him. He hadn’t thought about how Eleanor might meet the child she wanted to adopt. He looked at the two coed teams and wondered which little girl might be Eleanor’s.
A woman wearing jean shorts and a colorful T-shirt approached them. “Hello, Eleanor. Is this your family?”
John rose to let the familiar-looking woman enter their row and sit next to Eleanor. Pete studied her, trying to figure out who she was.
“Two of these people are my family,” Eleanor replied. She motioned toward John. “This is my dad, John Washburn. And this is my honorary aunt, Mavis Caldwell. The others are friends.”
“I know you,” Kerry Ann spoke to the stranger. “You’re Jake Green’s mom.”
“Yes, hi. I’m Louise Green and you’re—”
“Kerry Ann Beck. Which child is yours?” Kerry Ann nodded toward the field.
“I’m here with one of my case load. That little girl with the dark brown braids and skinned knees.”
Pete followed Louise’s motion and picked out a child on Nicky’s team. She was sitting on the team bench with her head down.
“Her name’s Jenna. She lost her parents in a car accident in that awful blizzard we had on April Fool’s Day this year.”
“None of us will forget that storm for a long time to come,” Kerry Ann said. “Didn’t she have any family?”
“Unfortunately no. And none of her parents’ friends came forward to adopt. We’re trying to find a good stable family to adopt her.”
“Poor little thing,” Kerry Ann murmured.
Pete glanced sideways at Eleanor, finding her attention riveted on the little girl. His heart went out to the orphaned child. He’d watched how his two had suffered losing only their mother. Then the urge to take Eleanor’s hand nearly overcame his good sense.
Eleanor hadn’t known what to expect to feel upon seeing Jenna. She’d experienced empathy over the girl’s personal tragedy. But how could she have anticipated this depth and richness of longing? She wanted to run across the ball field and wrap the child in her arms.
Jenna looked up. And Eleanor’s reaction strengthened. The child looked lost and lonely. Eleanor had known something of that feeling as a child. But how did it feel to be orphaned at seven years old? Oh, Jenna, I could love you.
Pete’s arm brushed hers as he leaned forward, following her gaze. “She looks like a nice kid,” he murmured.
“Yes, she does,” Eleanor said, her heart awash with warm currents of caring. She tried to hide this.
The game started. Soon Nicky came up to bat. “Hit it!” Cassie called out. “Come on, Nicky!”
Nicky let two balls go by and then swung and missed. Eleanor found herself moving forward on the bench, calling out encouragement. Finally after two strikes, Nicky hit the ball and ran to first base. Their row erupted with shouts and applause.
Nicky waved from first base.
“Did you know that Eleanor played guard on her high school basketball team?” John asked, sounding proud.
“No, she never mentioned it.” Pete grinned at her.
At her father’s praise, her mood lifted, and Eleanor punched Pete’s arm. “I bet you were on the football team.”
“Guilty as charged.” Pete grinned more broadly.
After two more children struck out, Jenna came to bat. Nicky had stolen second base, but Eleanor could tell that the coach of the other team expected Jenna to strike out. Perhaps because she was a girl? The thought irritated Eleanor.
Jenna swung the bat a few times getting ready and then stepped to the plate. Her posture spoke volumes about her intensity. Clearly, Jenna did not intend to strike out.
Two times the pitches were declared balls, and then two times strikes. The pitcher let loose of the ball. Jenna connected with a satisfying crack. She blasted off like a missile, short legs churning and so did Nicky.
Eleanor and Pete bounced to their feet, both shouting encouragement. “Come on! Run!”
Jenna made it to first base and Nicky to third. Unfortunately, the next batter struck out, and Nicky and Jenna’s team had to hit the field again.
Eleanor watched the game avidly, calling out encouragement every time Nicky or Jenna came up to bat or were trying to run to the next base. The experience lifted her out of herself. And hearing her father and Mavis cheering on the two children only increased the joy.
Finally the game ended, and the social worker led Eleanor over to meet Jenna and her temporary foster mother. “Jenna, I want you to meet Ms. Eleanor Washburn.”
While her emotions rioted, Eleanor tried to remain outwardly calm. “Hello, Jenna. You did a great job.”
“But we didn’t win,” Jenna complained, looking unhappy. “I like to win.”
Eleanor chuckled, feeling it release some of her tension. “I know the feeling. I like to win, too.”
“Hey! Miss Ellie.” Nicky hurried over. “I didn’t know you would come to my game.”
Once again, she noted that Nicky was a handsome boy just like his dad. That thought shot through her, shocking her with its truth. “I wanted to see how you and the rest of your team were doing,” Ele
anor said, trying to keep from revealing her true reason for attending. She’d been warned not to let Jenna know she was considering her for adoption.
“Hey, slugger,” Pete greeted his son and ruffled his boy’s dark hair, which matched his own. “Not bad.”
The remaining members of their group had come along to congratulate Nicky’s team.
“Jenna,” Ms. Green said. “Ms. Washburn is going to take you out for a while after the game and then take you home to your foster-care mom.”
Jenna looked up and said politely, “Hello, Ms. Washburn.”
“We call her Miss Ellie,” Nicky piped up. “Dad, can we go to A&W? I’m really thirsty.”
Jenna moved a step closer to Eleanor. “Should I call you Miss Ellie, too?”
Eleanor found she couldn’t speak, so she nodded and brushed back Jenna’s bangs.
“Can Miss Ellie and the little girl come to A&W, too?” Cassie asked, still holding John’s hand.
“Why not?” Pete said. “Let’s make it a party.”
“But we didn’t win,” Jenna objected.
“We’ll celebrate the fact that you and Nicky made it onto base,” Kerry Ann said. “Winning’s good, but A&W black cows don’t only come to the winners. Am I right?”
“You’re definitely right,” Eleanor’s dad agreed. “I love root beer floats. Let’s all go!”
Ms. Green wished them all goodbye and went to her car.
Eleanor let herself be drawn into the group, heading to their vehicles and then to A&W.
The A&W was crowded, so they picked up their refreshments and drove to the nearby park. Kerry Ann, Mavis and John sat at a picnic table while Pete, his kids, Eleanor and Jenna lounged on the blanket Eleanor always carried in her car.
Eleanor was happy that Cassie and Nicky were there. Jenna chatted naturally with them about the team and about the coming school year. Eleanor forced herself not to stare at Jenna. How could she have such a feeling of connection to a child she’d just met?
Pete leaned close to her ear. “She looks like a sweet girl.”
Eleanor nodded, whispering, “I can’t believe that I already feel something for her.”
Pete looked thoughtful. “I remember,” he murmured in her ear, “how I felt when I saw each of my kids for the first time. It’s powerful. I can’t explain it.”
His words sent chills through her.
“Eleanor,” Kerry Ann said, “I’ve just invited your parents and Mavis to come to Sunday dinner tomorrow. About noon?”
Eleanor looked up, disconcerted. Was this a good idea? Her mother was unpredictable.
“I already accepted for us, Ellie,” her dad said. He hadn’t called her Ellie since she was a little girl.
That caught her breath. A done deal, then. “Wonderful.” She pushed out a smile. “What can I bring?”
“Why don’t you see if Jenna would like to come, too,” Kerry Ann invited. “I’m cooking a special meal with my rotisserie grill.”
“Sounds scrumptious.” And I hope my mom won’t go all super-feminist on you. Delia never curbed her tongue when confronted with a woman like Kerry Ann who had devoted herself to her family. Eleanor looked down at Jenna. “Would you like to come, too?”
“If I can.” Jenna looked uncertain, as if she were trying to figure out what was going on.
“You’ll like our house,” Cassie said.
“We have a really neat play set, too,” Nicky agreed.
Jenna nodded then, looking cheerful. “I have to ask my foster mom.”
Eleanor tried not to let foreboding over her mother’s possible negativity crush the elation at meeting Jenna, a sweet girl, all alone in the world. Lord, I could love Jenna. Don’t let my mother spoil this. I want her support, not her criticism. Is that possible?
Chapter Eight
Sunday morning had come. With one leg jiggling, Eleanor perched nervously between Cassie and Pete in the Becks’ church. Jenna had not been able to come along. Maybe that was for the best since Eleanor was already on edge. Eleanor had visited this church, one of the older, redbrick buildings in town, a few times and recognized several people. Until Mavis retired, Eleanor had often driven the two hours to Madison to attend church with her.
Now Mavis sat beside Kerry Ann, smiling. Eleanor wished she could calm down and really listen to the pastor’s message. But nervousness over the coming Sunday dinner at the Becks’ home kept one leg bouncing. She knew her father would come to the Becks’, but what about her mother? Delia never seemed to be able to just relax and enjoy people. Or just relax period. What kept her mother wound up so tight all the time? Especially with me?
Everyone rose to sing the closing hymn. A guilty flush rose up her neck. She hadn’t heard more than a sentence or two of the sermon, something about “loving extravagantly.” Lord, how do You want me to handle this? I’m so afraid that my mom will be cold and unfriendly to Pete’s family because they’re not academics like her.
Along with the rest of the congregation as they slowly filed out of the pews, Mavis caught her elbow and leaned close to her ear. “Honey, I saw your leg jumping. Cool it. I’ve prayed about it. Now let God and Kerry Ann handle your mother.”
Relief drenched Eleanor, Mavis’s words releasing her tension in one big wave. As she joined the general exodus from the church and stepped into the hot, sunny day, she was able to greet people and wave to others. Nearby, Kerry Ann, dressed in a bright summer dress, was surrounded by people.
Eleanor joined Pete and his children, and a new worry popped up. If her mother thought Eleanor was interested in Pete, would she be rude to him? Eleanor wished she could have a mother who drew people to her like Pete’s mother. Adults and children flocked to Kerry Ann like Eastern goldfinches to a thistle feeder. The contrast between Pete’s mother and her own was stark. Eleanor sighed.
As Eleanor and the others moved to their vehicles, Cassie gripped Eleanor’s hand and hopped and skipped by her side. “Daddy, can I ride to our house with Miss Ellie?”
Eleanor enjoyed knowing that Cassie wanted to stay with her. Perhaps she could be like Kerry Ann, drawing people to her.
“Cassie,” Pete replied, “I think that’s too much trouble, moving your booster seat for such a short ride. After all, Miss Ellie is going to spend the entire afternoon with us. So just say, ‘See you soon!’”
“See you soon,” Cassie said without rancor.
Eleanor could only hope that under her care, Jenna would be as well behaved as Pete Beck’s children were. She waved to Cassie and folded herself into Mavis’s hybrid.
Soon they drove up the slope to the Beck farm, where contented black-and-white Holsteins grazed in a lush pasture. Mavis touched Eleanor’s arm just before they got out. “Are you cool?”
Perceiving this had nothing to do with a low-nineties temperature, Eleanor nodded. “I’m going to enjoy myself.”
Mavis gave her hearty chuckle. “I’m kind of intrigued about how Kerry Ann will handle your mom.” Her face became serious. “You know that your mom’s funny ways have their root in her own insecurity, right?”
Before Eleanor could question Mavis about this revealing statement, her aunt exited the small car and was heading toward the side porch under the shade of the oak grove. Eleanor followed her, feeling the grass tickling her feet through her sandals. Like Kerry Ann, she’d worn a long summer dress from India in an exotic print of earth tones, especially a subtle green. It flowed around her, cool cotton, which breathed in the summer heat. She felt free in it.
When she turned the corner of the house, an unexpected sight brought her up sharp. “Mike?”
Wearing cutoff jeans and a black, torn T-shirt, he sat in a lawn chair beside a rotisserie. “Hey, Ellie! Looking good!”
“What are you cooking?” The scent of garlic drew her.
“A couple of legs of lamb, Armenian style. Mom’s latest foray into international cuisine.”
“So you became the cook?”
“Yeah, I went to Saturday night
service so I could be number one chef this morning.” He stretched out his full length and yawned. “It’s been such hard work. You have no idea.”
She laughed out loud.
Now in play clothes, Cassie and Nicky crowded around their uncle.
“It smells good, Uncle Mike,” Nicky said.
At the sound of a car door slamming, Cassie turned and recognized Eleanor’s dad, who was approaching. “Mr. Washburn!” she shouted, running to greet him and Eleanor’s mother.
John swung Cassie up into his arms and she shrieked with giggles over something he said to her.
Delia, unsmiling and carrying a lunch-size plastic cooler, marched beside him.
At the sight of the green-and-white cooler, Eleanor blanched with embarrassment.
At the same moment, Kerry Ann came from the house onto the large, screened-in porch, carrying a tray. Following her, her husband, Harry, lofted another one.
“Come onto the porch!” Kerry Ann called. “Come sample the mezze! Or Armenian appetizers!”
Hiding her own pleased surprise, Eleanor obeyed her hostess and entered the porch through a screen door. “Mezze? Really?”
“Yes.” Kerry Ann and Harry placed both platters on the long table. “I hope I made enough.”
John let Delia enter first. “Wow, the lamb smells great and I haven’t enjoyed mezze since our last trip to the Mediterranean.”
Delia stood just inside the door, staring at the platters.
“Oh, Delia, you didn’t need to bring anything,” Kerry Ann said, motioning toward the cooler and ignoring her guest’s disgruntled expression.
“I don’t eat red meat or fried foods,” Delia said, tight-lipped. “So I brought my own lunch.”
Stunned silence.
Eleanor stared straight ahead, trying to keep her composure. Did her mother even know the definition of tact?
“Well, then I guess you won’t get to sample my delicious leg of lamb,” Kerry Ann said brightly. “But the mezze should be right up your alley. I have sliced cantaloupe, tomatoes, hummus, pita bread, kalamata olives—”
“And Tabbouleh!” John exclaimed. “My favorite.”
