by Janette Oke
“He is to come tomorrow.”
“I wish he were here now.”
Virginia wished that, too. But Rodney, who normally would have arrived home already, had been given permission to spend a couple of weeks on a camping trip with some of his new friends. One was Austin, who had finally warmed to Rodney’s friendship and had admitted that his unknown disease had him worried and scared.
“This time could be very important,” Rodney had said over the phone. “I feel that Austin needs me.”
And his parents had readily agreed that the time in the outdoors, away from college pressures, would be time well spent.
“He will be here soon,” Virginia repeated. “Maybe he will even get here before Clara’s baby.”
Francine’s eyes widened. “It takes that long to have a baby?”
“Sometimes.”
“But that’s hours.”
“I know. Sometimes it takes hours.”
Francine began to cry again. “I don’t think I can stand it for that long,” she cried.
“You stand it?” Virginia asked abruptly. “What about Clara?”
The cries grew louder, and Virginia knew she had said the wrong thing.
“Blow your nose. Here.” She handed Francine a fresh hankie. “Are there any more of those muffins left?” she went on, hoping to distract her sister.
“In the pantry,” sniffled Francine.
“Get a couple.”
Francine went off to the pantry just as their parents came in the kitchen, fully dressed and anxious to be on their way.
“You’ll watch out for Francine,” Belinda was saying in a low voice as she drew on her light coat.
Virginia nodded. Her mother knew that she would, but Virginia guessed she had to say the words anyway.
“I expect to be back soon,” said her father. “I’d be useless and in the way there.”
Virginia nodded again.
“Let us know . . .” began Virginia. Those words were not necessary, either, but she had to speak them.
Francine emerged from the pantry carrying a muffin in each hand. At the sight of her parents, she burst into tears again, and her mother gave her a quick hug. “Tell Clara—we’re praying,” Francine sobbed out to the backs of her departing mother and father. “We love her. She was a . . . a wonderful sister. I really—”
“Stop it,” cut in Virginia. “You’re talking like . . . like she’s dying or something.”
“Well . . .” blubbered Francine.
“She’s only having a baby. Hundreds—thousands of women have babies every year.”
“And some of them . . .” began Francine, but Virginia refused to let her say it.
“Get the butter,” she ordered more loudly than necessary. “I’ll put the milk on.”
Francine blew her nose and moved to the pantry once more.
“This is going to be a long, long night,” Virginia said again under her breath. She felt like weeping, too.
———
News came long before Rodney’s eleven-o’clock train pulled in at the local station the next morning. Clara had a baby boy. Mother and baby both seemed to be resting comfortably. The doctors in charge felt no reason to be concerned about the new arrival, and Clara seemed to have weathered the birthing much better than they had dared to hope. The good news traveled fast. Belinda insisted on taking it out to the farm herself to inform the great-grandparents.
Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. God had seen them through another crisis. And if the news hadn’t been so good, she told herself, God would have seen them through that, too.
Rodney’s train was met with extra enthusiasm as he was greeted with the news that he was now an uncle. Virginia shared his emotions as his cap soared high into the air and he gave a whoop of delight.
“Have they named him yet?” was his first question.
“He’s Anthony Clark,” Francine announced before Virginia had time to answer.
“Anthony Clark. That’s nice. Real nice.”
“And Clara says that he is not to be called Tony,” added Francine importantly.
“And how does she plan to stop that?” laughed Rodney.
“She says she will pummel the first one who calls him that,” spoke up Danny.
“And the others?”
Danny shrugged. “I suppose she will pummel all of them.”
Rodney laughed again, then gathered his suitcases, passing some to Virginia and Danny to carry. A small parcel was handed to Francine as her allotment.
“Don’t drop that,” he admonished her. “I’ve been nursing it all the way home. There’s something for Mama and that new baby in there.”
“How did you know what to buy?” asked Francine, attempting to get a peek into the parcel.
“For Mama?”
“No, silly. For the baby.”
“What do you mean? Babies aren’t too particular, so I’ve been told.”
“But you didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl.”
“So? I bought a toy and a couple of bibs. I don’t expect him to complain.”
They all joined in Francine’s laugh.
“Now, let’s get out of here and go get a look at him,” said Rodney, picking up the remaining suitcase.
“We can’t.” The short directive came from Virginia.
Rodney stopped short. “What do you mean?”
“We can’t. Not yet. Clara has to rest. Mama says that it may be two or three days before we can see him.”
Rodney’s face showed his disappointment. “Haven’t any of you seen him yet?”
“No,” they all said in unison.
“And Danny didn’t even know he was on the way,” accused Francine. “He slept right through the whole commotion.”
Danny shrugged again. “Nothing I could have done about it anyway,” he excused himself.
Rodney reached out a hand and ruffled Danny’s hair. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get on home. I’m starving.”
Virginia picked up the case she was to carry and followed her two brothers from the station. A smile played about the corners of her mouth. Rodney didn’t seem to have changed— at least much—at all.
CHAPTER 5
Uncle Luke says you can pay a visit to Clara,” Belinda announced the next day as she entered the kitchen where her family was having their noon meal. They had not expected this news to come so soon, so excitement followed.
“Is Clara well again?” asked Francine.
Belinda withdrew her gloves and removed her hat. “No, she’s still not strong, but she is so anxious to show you her new son that Luke thinks her agitation may cause more trouble than your visit. If you stay only a few minutes, Luke says it shouldn’t cause any harm.”
The enthusiasm of the little group was tempered by the reality that Clara had a ways to go to full recovery.
“But she will be okay, won’t she?” asked Francine.
“We hope so. But it may be a long, slow process. If we only could discover what it is that has bothered her, we might be able to do something about it.”
“You still don’t know?” asked Rodney with a frown.
“Luke thinks now that it may be some infectious bacteria— not connected with her pregnancy at all.”
“Will the baby get it?”
Belinda shook her head slowly. “We don’t have any answers. We certainly hope not. But it is something to pray about.”
Belinda was the one to break the silence that had fallen. “He’s a beautiful baby. You are going to love him. He’s already stolen my heart.”
She was smiling as she moved to pour herself a cup of tea.
“Well, Grandma,” teased Rodney. “I didn’t expect anything else. He would have stolen your heart if he’d been purple with one eye and a green tail.”
They all laughed, but they knew it to be true. Belinda was bound to be taken with her first grandchild.
“Well, he has two beautiful dark eyes, he’s creamy white, with a reasonable amount
of dark hair—and no green tail,” she answered Rodney’s banter.
“Oooh! I can hardly wait to see him,” exclaimed Francine. “Virginia, are you going to take all the things you’ve made for him?”
Virginia thought of the little garments she had sewn whenever she could find a few spare moments. And the sweater set and baby shawl she had knitted. “I’ve already given most of it to Clara. She was feeling so down because she wasn’t able to be up sewing and getting ready, so I took the things I had finished.”
“Bet she was glad. . . .”
“She cried.”
Virginia herself had to choke back tears just thinking of the emotional moment.
“I’m going to take my gift,” spoke up Rodney.
“Hey, I don’t have anything.” Danny looked up, concern on his face, as though the whole event had caught him totally by surprise and he had suddenly realized that he was actually an uncle. He turned to his siblings. “Can I run quick and get something?”
“No,” responded Francine. “I don’t want to wait. You can get him something later, Danny,” she informed him with sisterly aplomb.
But Danny had already risen from the table and was heading for his bedroom. “I’ll meet you there,” he called back, his words muted by a mouthful of food.
Virginia was busily clearing the table. Francine jumped up to help her.
“Remember,” Belinda warned, “don’t stay long. And try not to tire her with questions.”
“How long is long?” asked literal-minded Francine.
“Ten or fifteen minutes. But Luke will be there. He’ll shoo you out if he sees Clara tiring.”
“I can’t wait to hold him,” Francine enthused as Virginia prepared the water for the dishes.
Virginia was thinking the same thing. In fact, she had fully expected to be the first with the honor of holding Clara’s new son.
“Don’t bother with the dishes,” Belinda said. “I’ll wash up.”
Virginia wheeled away to remove and hang her apron. “We won’t be long—promise,” she said to her mother. “Leave the dishes and we’ll do them when we get back.” Already she was walking briskly toward her bedroom to gather the last of the baby things for little Anthony.
It was an excited group that hurried through the streets bearing their gifts for the new nephew. But as they neared Clara’s little house on the edge of town, their pace slowed and their voices became hushed. Uncertainty as to what they might find made them somber and silent.
They did not bother to knock but cautiously let themselves in the back door. Their uncle Luke sat at the kitchen table, coffee cup nearby, his hands busy writing out some report. He greeted them brightly, the first indication to Virginia that their
fears might be unfounded.
“So you’ve come to see the new baby?”
They nodded their answer.
He rose from his chair. “I’d prefer to bring him out, but Clara would throw something at me. I know she’ll want to see your faces when you get your first peek.”
“How is Clara?” Virginia whispered over a lump in her throat.
“Clara?”
Luke’s voice was strong and loud to Virginia’s ears. She almost hushed him.
“Like every new mama. So excited she can’t sleep. Her eyes are always on that crib. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
They tiptoed down the hall behind him. To Virginia, his masculine steps thumped and echoed on the hardwood flooring. Again, she wished to hush him.
Clara lay pale among her pillows, her hair fanned out over their whiteness, her thin arms limp beside her body. But her eyes shone with a light that Virginia had never seen there before.
“Come in,” she welcomed them with a smile. Her voice sounded no stronger than her frame looked.
Rodney had stopped short. It was the first he had seen his older sister since Christmas, and the shock of her illness and its effects on her body caught him totally by surprise. Virginia nudged him quickly. He regained a measure of composure, swallowed hard, and moved forward again.
“Hi, Clara.” Virginia quickly filed in and hurried over to press a kiss on her sister’s cheek. “We couldn’t wait to see little Anthony.”
“He’s beautiful,” the new mother managed, and the sparkling eyes misted.
“How are you?” Virginia whispered for Clara’s ears only.
Clara lifted a tired hand, but the smile did not leave her face. “I’ll be fine once I . . . once they find out what’s wrong.”
Virginia gave the hand a squeeze.
A squeal behind her told her that Francine had beat her to the baby. “Look at him.”
Virginia wheeled around to see that Francine already had the new nephew in her arms and was gazing down at him with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes. The bundle of blankets around the wee baby hid everything but blue wrappings. She felt a bit cheated that she had not been the first to hold him. Hadn’t she been the one caring for Clara over the past several months?
Rodney pressed close to Francine and reached out a hand to push back some blanket. Virginia got a look at the child for the first time. He did have creamy white skin. Creamy white with a gentle flush when he squirmed. Round, soft cheeks, and the tiniest bit of a nose above the puckered mouth. His eyes were closed, but even in his sleep his mouth worked slightly, as though he might be searching for food but a little unsure as to where and how to find it. Hair covered the top of his perfectly round head like a small dark cap.
Virginia held her breath. So this was Anthony. Her nephew. The one they had all been waiting for.
She laid the gifts she had brought on Clara’s bed and tiptoed slowly over to Francine. “Can I . . . ?”
“Not yet. I just got him.”
“But I . . .”
“Then it’s my turn,” said Rodney.
Virginia wanted to protest. He was her baby. She had looked after his mother. In some strange, unexplained way she felt that she had some rights where this new baby was concerned. But as quickly as the feelings came, they were dismissed. Of course that was silly. He was Clara’s baby. She was just an auntie. No more or no less than the one who now held him. And Rodney, as an uncle, had as much right as she.
Still, it was very hard to step back and wait her turn. She hoped that Danny would not suddenly burst into the room and announce that he was next in line.
Francine at last relinquished the baby to Rodney’s waiting arms, and Virginia was one step closer to her goal. Francine retrieved the small parcel she had dropped on the table by the door and moved to the bed to greet Clara.
“I brought him this,” she said as she placed the package on the bed and leaned to kiss her sister.
Clara murmured her thanks and with shaky hands began to tear the wrapping from the gift.
Virginia, watching, felt further concern. She is so weak. I hadn’t realized just how bad things have gotten. Will she ever be able to care for her baby?
Clara was smiling, a weak, yet excited smile as she drew forth Francine’s gift. “A romper. It’s sweet. He’ll be needing this before we know it. Thank you, Francine. Did you make it yourself?”
“Mama helped me,” Francine admitted.
“It’s lovely.”
Virginia turned back to Rodney, her impatience barely in check. Just then, as she had feared, Danny came thumping down the hall and into the room. He was puffing from his run to the store, and his cheeks were flushed from his hurry and excitement. In his hand he held a brown paper package. Without waiting for any kind of greeting, he placed it near Clara on the bed.
“It’s not wrapped proper. I didn’t have time,” he panted out.
Clara managed a weak chuckle. “Thank you, Danny.”
It was a tan-colored teddy bear with a red bow tied askew around its neck. “He’ll love this,” said Clara, her eyes filling up again. But Danny had not stopped to hear her response. He had moved to Rodney and was carefully taking the baby into his own arms.
“Hey, little fella,” he sai
d as he looked down. “This is your uncle Daniel.” His eyes softened as he gazed at the child in his arms. Virginia was reminded of the same tenderness he showed when he was nursing one of his injured animals. “I’m gonna teach you all about creatures—and things. You can go with me to the woods and the creek, and we’ll see bird nests and rabbit burrows and . . .”
“Danny,” laughed Francine. “He doesn’t understand. . . .”
Danny’s head jerked up. “How do you know?” he flung back at her. “Lots of folks think that animals don’t understand, either.”
Luke, who had left the room after admitting the family, crossed to Clara’s bed and reached a hand to her forehead, watching her with a doctor’s steady gaze. Virginia had not even heard his footsteps return.
“Time’s about up,” he said softly but cheerily.
Virginia felt a moment of panic. She did not wish to jeopardize the health of her sister, but she had not yet had a chance to hold the baby. Her eyes turned to her uncle, pleading.
“I’d like—I’d like Virginia to stay a few moments.” Clara’s voice was weak but it held authority.
Luke nodded, seeming to understand. “Not too long,” he cautioned Virginia, and taking the baby from Danny’s arms, he placed him in Virginia’s, then ushered the other three from the room.
Virginia looked down at the bundle she held. He was so little. So weightless. It was as if she were holding a bundle of blankets. He squirmed and searched with open mouth. One eye partially opened. Then both. Wide and seeking. They were dark. Just like her mama had said. They seemed to look right up into her face. Virginia wished to introduce herself—like Danny, but she couldn’t say a word. Just stood and stared at this little miracle in her arms.
Had she been able to talk, she would have told him of the love that was washing through her whole being as she held him close. She would have let him know that she had prayed over and over for his safe arrival. Now that he was here, she would go on loving him. Caring for him. Protecting him—if possible—from all of the hurts and bumps of an indifferent world. But Virginia said none of these things. Her heart was too full to be able to speak.
“Come here,” whispered Clara and patted the bed beside her.
