The tears that had brimmed in her eyes spilled over now, but she was beaming like a floodlight too. “I think that would be just fine,” she said, half laughing, half crying.
Austin studied her and wrinkled his forehead. “Are you cryin’ . . . Mom?”
She lost it then. The full-on ugly cry. And Dallas had to fight not to follow suit. “You know what, buddy. Sometimes people cry because they’re happy.”
“That’s silly!” He giggled, and then he feigned a pathetic wail.
Dallas tickled him. “You goof! You must be happy too, huh?”
“I’m not a goof!”
“Oh, I think you are a goof. I think you’re the biggest goof I know.”
“Tickle me some more, Dad.”
Dallas gave him a perfunctory tickling before putting a finger under Danae’s chin and forcing her to look at him.
He was gratified to see that she was a weepy mess—happier than he’d ever seen her.
28
Danae turned the page on the calendar and pinned it back on the bulletin board in the kitchen. April. The month their baby was due. In some ways, it seemed like they’d just celebrated Christmas. But in other ways, it seemed like that had been eons ago.
This waiting wasn’t easy, even when you weren’t the one heavy with child.
She heard the garage door grinding open. Finally. Dallas had worked late every night last week, and he’d promised her he’d be home in time to go with them to her parents’ for supper.
Austin had come to live for Tuesday nights at Poppa and Gram’s. But with Dallas working longer hours, Danae knew he would rather have had a night at home. She didn’t blame him, but it was tradition. A tradition of only a couple of years, but she wouldn’t have missed those nights for anything. Not to mention, she didn’t have to cook on Tuesdays. At least not the whole meal. Tonight, she was on dessert duty. They were celebrating Emma and Grace’s first birthdays so, besides a cake for the adults, she’d volunteered to bake two little round cakes the girls could dig into.
Dallas came in and plopped his briefcase and a stack of mail on the counter. He gave her a perfunctory kiss and sifted through the mail. “Where’s my buddy?”
“He’s up in the playroom. Are you going up? Tell him to bring his shoes when he comes down.”
“I’ll put them on. I’m going to change clothes first. You think we’ll be outside tonight?”
“Knowing Mom, yes. Better get a jacket for Austin too.”
“What did you make?” He lifted the top from the cake-taker that held her perfect six-layer carrot cake. “Hey, I think somebody had better test this before we try to serve it to company.”
“Get out of there! Dallas Brooks, there had better not be one fingerful of frosting missing from that cake!” She swiped the lid from him and swatted him away, loving their life. Loving the simple, wonderful routines of being a family.
And it was about to get better. The cradle was set up in their bedroom and stacks of diapers and outfits in pink, blue, and neutral yellow, waited on a shelf above the changing table. They’d probably move the baby into the second nursery in a few months—unless it was a boy, and then they’d have to paint over pink walls first. But for now, she loved going to sleep with a view of their makeshift nursery at the end of the bed. And she felt just a little bit vindicated for all the grief Dallas had given her over having two “nurseries” in their house. The thought brought a smug smile.
Dallas took the steps two at a time, and her smile changed to one of delight when she heard Austin’s cries of, “Dad! You’re home!” She picked up the little birthday cake boxes to carry them out to the car, but her cell phone trilled from the living room where Austin had been playing “bideo” games on it.
She set the cakes down and ran for the phone. The Caller ID said St. Louis County. It was still at least two weeks away from Misty’s due date, but she knew babies sometimes decided to come early. She really didn’t want an April Fool’s baby, but she wasn’t going to be picky. She pressed Talk, her senses heightened.
“Danae? It’s Misty.”
“Misty? You’re not in labor are you?” She couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice.
“No. Sorry. Not yet. But that’s why I’m calling. They’re not gonna let you in the labor room.”
“What?” She slumped into a chair, feeling like a deflated balloon. She’d known it wasn’t a sure thing, but Misty had requested that Danae be with her for the labor and delivery, and Danae had been so excited about the possibility she could hardly stand it. “What happened? Do you think if I called someone it would make a difference? Or if Dallas did?”
“No. They said no exceptions. It’s policy for someone of my . . .
status.” She spit the word out.
Danae took a deep breath. She didn’t want to cry, not when Misty sounded bummed about it already. But she was crushed. “So . . . who will be with you?”
“Only medical staff is allowed, they said.”
“Oh, Misty. I’m so sorry.”
“I . . . I want to ask you something though.”
“OK . . . sure.” Misty’s tone made her nervous.
“I was thinking. I don’t want Austin to see me in jail. But in the hospital, that wouldn’t be such a bad memory, would it?”
“No.” She wasn’t prepared for the ripples of—was it jealousy?—that went through her. “No. That would be a good memory, I think. You . . . you could even see him meet the baby.”
The magnitude of what Misty was giving up—handing over to them—rolled over her with the force of an ocean wave.
“I’d like that, I think. I might chicken out. I have to think about it some more. I know he’ll understand more when he gets older. But until then, I don’t ever want him thinkin’ I just walked away and never looked back, you know?”
“Oh . . . he wouldn’t think that, Misty. We’d never let him think that. We were telling him just the other night how much you love him and miss him. He was remembering that soccer ball you bought him.”
An overlong pause. “He remembered?”
“He did. We don’t have it anymore. It didn’t come with his stuff from the shelter, but he still remembered that you got it for him.”
“Maybe I can get him another one somehow.”
“Hey, would you like us to pick one up and bring it, so you can give it to him?”
“Would you?”
“Of course. We’d be happy to.”
“I’m sorry you can’t come in. For the baby, I mean.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s OK, Misty. It’s not your fault.”
“Well, yeah, it is.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah . . . I know.”
Dallas bounded down the stairs with Austin on his shoulders.
She shushed him and turned away with the phone. “Thanks for calling. We’re praying for you, Misty. And we’re sitting on pins and needles.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
That made her laugh. It was a good way to end a disappointing call.
“Who was that?”
“Misty,” she mouthed, not wanting to get into this conversation in front of Austin.
“I don’t get to go into the delivery room.” Her voice cracked.
“Oh. I’m sorry, babe.” He slid Austin from his shoulders, set him on the floor, and came around to embrace her. “I know you were really counting on that.”
She melted into him, trying to gather herself. “It’s not the end of the world.”
But if she were honest with herself, at the moment it sort of felt like it.
* * *
“I’ll get the cake,” Dallas said, lifting it from the table under the pergola.
“Oh, sure. The big hero saving the carrot cake.” Jesse laughed and slugged Dallas in the arm. “Watch him, boys,” he told Chase and Link. “Somebody be sure that cake makes it into the house.”
“Well, doesn’t that just take the cake,” Link quipped.
<
br /> Danae laughed, loving the guys’ banter. But she marched over and took the cake-taker from her husband. “I’ll take the cake, thank you very much. You go get something that requires muscles. Like Austin, for example.”
They’d tried to eat outside tonight, but before they even had the table spread, a chill breeze came up, making it miserable for everyone. Now they’d formed a brigade to get all the food back in the house.
Spirits were high as they gathered around the table and laughed at the birthday girls’ antics with their cakes. Danae was so grateful the hard news about not getting to be with Misty for their baby’s birth had come on a day she was scheduled to be with people she loved. It was hard to feel down around this crazy family.
Link was cracking jokes and making his brothers-in-law laugh so hard they’d soon be shooting milk out their noses. She put the disappointing news out of her mind and focused on simply enjoying the moment.
When dishes were done, all the guys took the kids to the basement playroom to show them a new game Jesse had “invented” for one of his college courses.
Mom and Corinne and Landyn headed upstairs to get the twins bathed and put down for the night. Danae found Bree and CeeCee in the living room, deep in conversation. Her grandmother and Bree had always had a special bond, and she started to leave, thinking she’d interrupted. But they both beckoned her into the circle, and she curled into a sofa in the corner opposite Bree.
She listened while they finished their conversation. Something about Bree’s job. Danae realized she hadn’t asked her sister-in-law about her work as an event planner for quite some time. She’d make a point to be more interested next time.
Bree turned to her, smiling big. “So when’s your baby due, Danae?”
CeeCee gasped and clapped her hands. “You’re not!”
Danae laughed. “No, CeeCee. I’m not pregnant. Bree just means the baby we’re adopting. You remember? It’s Austin’s brother or sister. His birth mother is due in two weeks.” Mom and Dad had mentioned they were concerned that CeeCee had been slipping a little, but tonight was the first Danae had seen it for herself.
Danae had always admired her grandmother deeply. Cecelia Whitman still lived alone, and up till now had been as independent as they came. Danae could scarcely imagine their family without CeeCee someday.
“So, tell me about this baby,” CeeCee said. “Boy or girl?”
“We won’t know until it’s born. But Austin seems to think he’s getting a little sister.”
“Really?” Bree said. “Are you hoping for a girl too?”
“I don’t know. It would be neat to have one of each, but I’d like Austin to have a brother too. I’m just thrilled to have babies.”
“Who would have thought, this time last year, right?”
Danae remembered that night in September when Corinne had announced her pregnancy. Danae had thought then that it would never happen for her. Bree had been so sweet to her that night. And just look where God had taken them since then. It still amazed her when she thought about their whole story.
“You said you wanted to be there for the delivery?”
Danae frowned. “No. I mean, I wanted to. But I just found out today that they won’t let me in.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You must be so disappointed, Danae.”
“I am. It’s not the end of the world, of course. I feel worse for Misty because she really seemed to want me there. And instead she’ll be with strangers. They won’t let anyone but medical personnel in.”
“How sad.”
“It is. And for me, I know I have no reason to complain. I’m truly grateful for everything God has seen fit to give us. It’s just that I was so looking forward to being there. It seemed like getting to be there for the labor and delivery, watching a child come
into the world, was God’s way of letting me get a sense of that experience—as close as possible anyway. I know it sounds petty, but I just wanted that so badly.”
CeeCee clucked in sympathy and put a hand on Danae’s knee. “You won’t remember this because you were just barely a spark in your daddy’s eye then, but when your grandpa and I took our trip up to Canada in 1962, or was it ’63? It seems like Grant was still in—”
Danae patted her grandmother’s thin arm. “You’ve told us about that trip, CeeCee. I remember.”
“Not the part I’m about to tell you.”
Danae laughed, knowing there was a “Don’t patronize me, young lady” attached to the gruff response.
Danae exchanged a look with Bree. They had all heard CeeCee talk about that trip. Danae had always assumed the trek to Canada had made such an impression because Grandpa and CeeCee rarely traveled.
A faraway look came to CeeCee’s eyes. “You see,” her grandmother said, “some of the people on that tour had flown in to Silver Islet. Flying wasn’t like it is now, and back then it was quite an experience to be able to say you’d flown. Well, Grandpa and I couldn’t afford to fly. Gas was cheap back then, and we made the entire trip—more than a thousand miles—in our old ’52 Ford. Took us three days to get there. Oh, there were some beautiful sights along the way, but nothing like those people on the airplane got to see from a mile up in the air. Flying was more of a rarity back then. But you know what, Miss Danae?”
Danae smiled, knowing there was a moral to the story coming.
CeeCee took her hand and squeezed. “Once we all got to Canada, nobody gave a hoot how they got there. We were all too busy oohing and aahing at the vastness of Lake Superior and at our glimpse of the Aurora Borealis and all the other incredible sights there were to see. Sure, if someone happened to mention how they got to fly to Ontario, I felt a little jealous for a few minutes. But then I’d just smile and nod and wait until the conversation turned back to whatever amazing thing we were experiencing at that moment. And you know, there were a few people who thought it was pretty amazing that we’d driven all that way. Sure it was a long, hard trip, but we had some stories to tell too.”
Tears sprang to Danae’s eyes. She got the message, loud and clear.
And she wasn’t so sure CeeCee was “slipping” in the least.
29
Well, I got them in the mail . . . nick of time.”
“I wish I could be excited about that,” Danae called from the kitchen.
Dallas hung the car keys on the hook in the mudroom. He’d finished their taxes after they got home from family night at the inn, and at eleven forty, he made his annual late-night race to the post office. Every year he swore he wouldn’t wait until the last minute the next year. And every year he decided he should give up “swearing.”
But this year he’d had a legitimate excuse. And he thought he might just be able to hang out his shingle as an attorney now, given the reams of documents and forms he’d filled out in the quest of getting Austin and the coming baby into their custody.
He found Danae at the sink and nuzzled her neck. She smelled like fresh laundry and something sugary. It was a good combination on her. “I can think of some ways we could celebrate,” he murmured into her hair.
She laughed. “I’m sure you can. But FYI, I do not consider Tax Day a reason for celebration. Besides, I’m too excited to think about anything else.” She wriggled around in the cage of his arms to face him. “Why haven’t they called!”
“Maybe because there’s nothing to report yet?” He kissed her forehead and went to rummage in the fridge for a midnight snack.
When he straightened he found her, hands on hips, study-
ing him.
“Aren’t you even a little bit excited?” she said.
He had to think about his answer. “I’m looking forward to a month from now, when we’ve settled into our new routine, and all this . . . transition stuff is behind us.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I’m dreading the good-byes. Dreading them so much.” Her frown quickly flipped to a smile. “But Dallas! We’re getting a baby. Any day now. It’s really happening.”
&nb
sp; He loved seeing her so happy, seeing her dreams finally coming true. He quickly corrected his thought: their dreams. Because ever since Austin had come into their lives, he’d finally caught Danae’s vision for them as a couple, and now as a family.
He didn’t think there was anything in the world that moved him more than hearing the patter of little feet, and that raspy voice hollering, “Dad’s home!” every night when he walked in the door.
Things at work had finally slowed down a little and he felt like he could catch his breath. Thankfully, he still enjoyed his job, and the company made it worth his while. It was a good thing, now that there would be two more mouths to feed. Two more feet to shoe. Already, Austin was growing like kudzu. The twins’ birthday party at the inn had inspired Austin to make big plans for his fourth birthday, which wasn’t until August. August 11, and the kid had talked about nothing else since. It was going to be a long summer waiting for that party.
He snagged a can of Coke and a bag of chips and motioned toward his man cave. “I’m going to check my e-mail before I hit the hay.”
“OK. ’Night, babe.” She tiptoed to receive his goodnight kiss and gave him one that seemed to promise more. “I’ll check on Austin before I go to bed.”
“I won’t be long.”
He grabbed his laptop and took it to the recliner. He had at least fifty unanswered e-mails, and he was tempted to delete them and pretend he’d never seen them. He threatened to do that every few months, but he never could go through with it.
He sorted a few he could handle quickly and started in on replies.
The phone broke the silence of the darkened house. He checked the clock on his laptop’s toolbar and hurried to the kitchen to answer before it woke Danae.
It was almost twelve thirty. Either this was bad news or it was baby news. “Hello?” He answered cautiously, but couldn’t keep the smile from his voice, suspecting it was baby news.
“Will you accept a collect call?” a mechanical voice said. Then Misty’s voice speaking her own name formally.
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