Some Kind of Wonderful

by Barbara Freethy

  "That can't be true. Everyone wants something."

  "What do you want?"

  She'd backed herself into that corner. "I don't know."

  "Yes, you do. You're just afraid to say it out loud. Actually, I do want something. I want you to trust me. I want you to stop guarding your words, to feel free enough to be yourself."

  "I don't even know who that is."

  He smiled. "No time like the present to find out. So, tell me what you want."

  "I want the Christmas card family," she said impulsively, the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them. "The one with the roaring fire and the kids hanging the stockings and the cat playing with the ribbons on the Christmas present. Mattie gave me a card like that once." Matt was the only one who'd ever given her anything. She reached for the necklace that was usually on her neck, reminded again that she'd left it behind in her desperate flight from Gary.

  "Why can't you have it?"

  "Because people like me don't have things like that."

  "When you look in the mirror, you see limitations, but when I look at you, Sarah, I see possibilities." The warmth in his eyes took the chill from her bones. And when Jonathan led her over to the couch, she didn't resist.

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Sarah was grateful that he didn't rush into speech. She couldn't think when things moved too fast. She needed time for all the words to get to her head in the right order. One of her teachers had said she had some learning problem, but she couldn't remember the name of it. Not that it mattered. There were lots of reasons why she hadn't finished school, and none of them had to do with her brain.

  'Tell me about this Mattie you speak of so fondly," Jonathan said.

  "He's my brother. My older brother."

  "Where does he live?"

  She tensed, still not sure how much she should trust him. But as she looked into his encouraging eyes, she knew that if she was ever going to take a chance on a man, this was the man.

  "He lives here in town," she answered.

  "Why didn't you go to him when Gary hurt you?"

  "I did. He's the one who has my baby."

  A light of understanding came into his eyes. "I see."

  "No, you don't see. I left Emily in the hallway with a note. I didn't give Mattie a chance to say no. I just left her. Now you know what a terrible mother I am."

  "Is she safe with Matt?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you're not a terrible mother. Let me ask you this, would she have been safe with you?"

  "I don't know. She kept crying. I felt so helpless. And Gary couldn't stand it. He talked to some friends of his, and he found a lawyer who would pay us ten thousand dollars to give Emily to him." Her mouth trembled, and she bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying. "I said I wouldn't sell my baby, but Gary said he didn't need my permission because he was the baby's father and I'm not a good mother. He could find people to say that was so if I tried to stop him. And there was a part of me that believed him, that I was a bad mother."

  "Sarah, no, that's not true. You protected your child. That was the right thing to do, the courageous thing to do."

  "But what am I going to do now? I don't have an education. The only job I ever had was as a shampoo girl at a beauty salon. If I don't stay with Gary, who's going to pay for everything? I feel so tired, so overwhelmed. I don't think I can do this by myself."

  "Sh-sh," he said, putting a finger against her lips. Then his hands slid to her shoulders and she was suddenly resting her head on his chest. "You're not by yourself anymore."

  Oh, how she wanted to believe him, to close her eyes and be swept away into a beautiful dream where a man and a woman and a child lived happily ever after.

  "I can help you if you let me," he told her.

  She lifted her head to look at him. "Why would you want to?"

  "Because I want to."

  "That's your reason? I thought you'd say because God wanted you to."

  "Well, he probably does. Actually, I'm not sure if you were sent to me so I could help you or so you could help me."

  "Me? What could I do to help you?"

  "You're not the only who feels helpless to change things. And you're not the only one who feels alone sometimes."

  "But you're a minister. You have God for company."

  He chuckled. "Sometimes, the conversation is a little one-sided."

  She sent him a tentative smile. "I guess that's true."

  He put his hand on the side of her face, his fingers gentle as they traced the fading bruise around her eye. A second later he dropped his hand with a guilty frown. "Sorry."

  Jonathan stood up abruptly and walked around the room. He picked up a photograph on the mantel, then set it back down again.

  "Who's in the picture?" she asked, wondering why he suddenly seemed so uncomfortable.

  "My parents on their wedding day."

  "Can I see it?"

  He hesitated, then picked up the frame and handed it to her.

  "Your mother is pretty. She looks happy."

  "She was then. It didn't last. They divorced when I was thirteen."

  "I didn't think ministers could get divorced."

  "It's frowned upon, but my father is such an incredible preacher that he can talk most people into forgetting what he wants them to forget and remembering what he wants them to remember."

  "You make him sound like God."

  "Do I?" Jonathan shifted his feet, then took the photo out of her hand and set it on the mantel. "Let's talk about you."

  "I told you everything."

  "Not about your parents. What about your father?"

  "He died when I was a baby."

  "And your mother?"

  "She wasn't around much. Mattie used to take care of me. Then we were split up into foster care after a fire in our apartment. I never saw him again after that. I didn't even know where he was until a few days ago when I picked up a newspaper and saw his name. I thought it was a sign."

  "You need to talk to him, Sarah. Tell him you're all right. Tell him what happened with Gary."

  She shook her head. "I can't do that"

  "Why not? You miss your baby, don't you?"

  "So much," she said, a tear spilling out of one eye. She wiped it away but it was quickly followed by another and another. Some days she thought she might drown in her own tears.

  Jonathan handed her a Kleenex from the box on the end table. She wiped her cheeks. "Sorry."

  "You don't have to apologize for loving your baby or for wanting her to be with you." His gaze was so piercing it went straight through to her heart.

  "I do want her, but I'm scared."

  "Of Gary?"

  "And myself. You see..." She twisted the tissue in her fingers, wondering how much she should tell him, but she couldn't stop the words from coming straight out of the scariest part of her mind. "My mother was crazy. Most people thought she was just a drunk, but I knew different. And I'm afraid I might be crazy, too."

  "I don't think you're crazy, Sarah," Jonathan said as he sat down next to her.

  "You don't know me well enough to say that."

  "I know that people who are crazy are usually the last to know," he said bluntly. "Did your mother ever say she was crazy?"

  "No. She never said that. But she was. She'd say things that made no sense, and the things she did... Well, I don't want to talk about this anymore." She got to her feet, the memories making her restless, making her feel like she should run again. Because she'd been running from them her whole life.

  "You have to talk about your past. You have to bring your fears out of the shadows, flood them with light, so they won't scare you anymore."

  She wondered if it could really be that easy. Deep down she didn't think so. This man hadn't seen what she'd seen, hadn't lived the life she'd lived. He wanted to believe that there was good in everyone, but she knew that some people just weren't good.

  "Have you ever hurt anyone, Sarah?" he continued
, his eyes intent on hers. "Have you? Look at me, dammit."

  She was startled by the first swear word she'd ever heard cross his lips. She turned her head to face him.

  "Have you ever committed a crime?" he asked.

  "No."

  "Done drugs?"

  "No! I never did drugs. I swear. I used to drink when I was in high school but I quit as soon as I got pregnant. And I haven't had anything since."

  "Because you were worried about hurting your baby. That sounds pretty smart to me. I don't think you're crazy, Sarah. I think you're scared. You're twenty-two years old, and you've had a rough life so far. Now, you have a baby and no way to support that child, no home and no job. If you weren't scared, there would be something wrong with you." He got up and walked over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "We are not our parents, Sarah. Not for the good stuff, not for the bad stuff. It's taken me a long time to learn that."

  "Some things are hereditary."

  "And a lot of things are not. Believe me, I wish I had my father's fire, his passion, his ability to make things happen, but I don't. And I happen to look just like him, too," he added with a smile. "Maybe you see your mother in the mirror, but she's not there, you are."

  She wanted to believe him, wanted to feel better, but it was difficult to let go of the fear. "After I had Emily, she cried all the time, and I couldn't make her stop. I tried rocking her, singing to her, feeding her. But she hated to nurse, and she hated me. It got harder and harder to get up out of bed to take care of her. I was so tired, and Gary wouldn't help. He'd just say it was time to give her up. He almost had me convinced, but then I couldn't -- couldn't let her go. I love her," she said passionately, knowing it was the one truth she could speak freely. "I love her so much. But I have to do what's right by her, which I think means letting her go, but then I miss her so much I can't stand it." She put a hand to her heart. "It hurts in here, Jonathan. It hurts worse than anything." She couldn't keep the agony out of her voice, because now that the dam had burst, she was swamped with regret for having let Emily go. The baby was the only good thing that had ever happened to her in her whole life. "Tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do."

  "I can't tell you what to do," Jonathan said slowly. "But I do have an idea."

  "What?"

  "These feelings that you have of depression and terror, did you have them before Emily was born?"

  "Sometimes, but they got worse when she was crying all the time. I didn't know babies could be so hard or that I would feel so overwhelmed."

  He nodded. "Come with me."

  "Where -- the church? Because praying hasn't gotten me anywhere."

  He smiled at her, the smile that told her things would work out. "Prayer got you here," he said. "But now you have to come with me to the office, to my computer."

  "Your computer is going to help me?" she asked doubtfully.

  "A little faith can be a wonderful thing.”

  * * *

  "Emily won't stop crying," Caitlyn told Matt as they waited in the Stems' living room for Jackie and David to get Emily to sleep so they could go. "I know they want to help you, but Emily doesn't know them. We can't leave her here overnight."

  "You're right. Emily doesn't even like us much once the witching hour hits."

  "It was nice of them to offer..."

  "But we should take her home with us."

  Caitlyn liked the fact that there wasn't any real doubt in his voice, no edge of irritation that he wouldn't get the night off he'd expected.

  David came out of the bedroom with a harried look on his face. "My God, that baby can cry. I had no idea a little thing like that could make so much noise."

  "Tell me about it," Matt said, starting toward the bedroom.

  "I'll go," Caitlyn said as she put a hand on his arm. "You better talk to David about some of the joys of fatherhood before he decides to call the whole thing off."

  "Hey, can I do that?" David asked.

  Caitlyn smiled as she entered the bedroom and saw Jackie frantically trying to bounce Emily out of her bad mood. "Do you want me to take her?"

  "I think you better," Jackie said, more relief than dismay in her voice. "I don't think she fits too well with my pregnant stomach. She can't get comfortable. And David doesn't know how to hold her. He acts like she's a football and he's looking for a receiver to pass to."

  Caitlyn took Emily and placed the baby in her favorite position, which was against Caitlyn's chest, Emily's head tucked under Caitlyn's chin. Her cries turned into sobs, then whimpers, then breaths of relief as exhaustion claimed her into sleep.

  "Wow, you have the magic touch," Jackie said, her eyes worried as they studied Caitlyn and the baby. "What were David and I thinking? We can't take care of a kid. We don't know the first thing about babies. What if our child doesn't like us? What if we do the wrong thing?"

  "You won't, and you'll learn about your own baby very quickly. You'll start to distinguish between real cries of distress and just cries of irritation."

  "Do you really think so?"

  "Yes, absolutely. And don't think Matt and I are experts. Emily cries with us all the time. Ask Matt what he did last night to get her to sleep."

  "What?" Jackie asked.

  "He drove Emily around in the car for an hour until she fell asleep."

  "That's not exactly making me feel better."

  "Sorry; I just didn't want you to think it was you. Emily doesn't like the nighttime. She's fussy. But I'm starting to figure out what makes her happiest."

  "She's lucky to have you."

  "Lucky to have Matt. I'm just helping out."

  "Matt is lucky to have you. Although, he has taken to this child like I never expected. The way he looks at her, the way he talks to her... it amazes me."

  "It gets to me, too," Caitlyn admitted. "I never thought a man and a baby could be so beautiful together, but Matt and Emily -- sometimes they take my breath away."

  Jackie smiled knowingly, and Caitlyn had a feeling she'd been a little too enthusiastic. "I'm speaking objectively, of course."

  "Of course."

  "You'll see what I'm talking about the first time David falls asleep with your baby in his arms."

  "I can't wait. Sometimes it seems to take forever."

  Caitlyn felt a rush of emotion as she watched Jackie rub her stomach in a loving gesture. She wondered what it would feel like to carry a baby inside your body, to feel its feet and hands kicking against you, to know that you were giving life to a human being. But she would never know any of that. Her body would always be barren. Such an awful word that was, like a dry, parched, deadly desert, where nothing could grow, nothing could live. What kind of a person did that make her?

  Logically, she knew she was a good person, that having a baby wouldn't validate or invalidate that. But she still felt like she was missing something important. And somehow, some way, she had to find purpose and meaning in the rest of her life, in her other relationships, because whatever version of family she ended up with, it wouldn't be the one she had always wanted. And she'd have to reconcile with that.

  That sense of reconciliation had grown in the minutes and hours since she'd shared her secret with Matt. She didn't know why really. But saying it out loud had made her face it in a way she hadn't done before. It was the first step. Now she just needed to take the next one and the one after that. But not today. Maybe tomorrow or some time in the future.

  "I never thought of Matt as a family man," Jackie mused, her gaze still fixed on Emily, who had drifted off to sleep. "I used to think he'd never settle down. It was more likely for him to have a different woman on his arm every Friday night than the same one two weeks in a row." Jackie stopped, suddenly looking guilty. "That wasn't the smartest thing to say, was it?"

  "It doesn't matter. Matt and I are just friends." Caitlyn said the words automatically, although Jackie seemed disinclined to believe them. Of course, she was having a little trouble herself, but that was beside the point. />
  "He watches you when you're not watching him," Jackie said.

  "Really?" Caitlyn couldn't stop the irrepressible tingle that ran down her spine at this piece of information.

  "Yes, really. You like him, don't you?"

  "Sure, I like him, but--”

  "Don't worry, I'm not asking your intentions. But Matt is a great guy, and I know deep down that he really wants a family of his own. He had a hard childhood, very little love or support, and he's spent most of his adult life focused on his career, which has made him a great reporter, but I'm not sure it's done much for his loneliness. And I do think he's lonely. He acts like he doesn't care, like he's the proverbial rolling stone, but he never refuses a dinner invitation with us, and since I got pregnant he's been so interested and concerned. I sure would like to see him surrounded by a wife and kids of his own."

  Caitlyn swallowed hard as a picture of Matt sitting on a couch with a couple of kids on his lap came into her head.

  "I'm sorry," Jackie said quickly. "I just made you uncomfortable, didn't I? Me and my big mouth."

  "It's fine, really."

  "I'm a little protective where Matt is concerned. I don't want to see him get hurt. He really has had more than his fair share of pain."

  "He told me a little about his childhood," Caitlyn admitted. "But I think I'm in more danger of getting hurt by Matt than vice versa."

  "Don't be so sure. A man's heart can break, too, no matter what they say. In fact, I think we're the stronger of the two sexes. Look at me. In three weeks, I'm going to have to squeeze an eight-pound baby out of my body. What man could do that?"

  Caitlyn laughed. "I don't know any."

  "Talking about me?" Matt asked as he and David walked into the room.

  "We've got better things to do than talk about you," Jackie lied. "I'm just sorry we can't give you that night off. I think Emily wants Caitlyn."

  "Well, everyone wants Caitlyn," Matt replied.

  Caitlyn felt a rush of heat flow across her cheeks at the look in his eyes. Didn't he realize he was giving his friends the wrong impression? Didn't he realize he was giving her the wrong impression? "I'm sure Emily would probably just as soon have you holding her," Caitlyn said. "She likes Matt's big strong chest."

  "All the women do," he replied with a grin. "But I'm not taking Emily. Rule number one is never disturb a sleeping child."