by Janette Oke
Virginia moved over to the bed, bearing her precious bundle. Carefully she placed herself on the edge of it. She felt Clara’s hand lift to her arm, but she did not take her eyes off the baby.
“I think . . . I think you might understand a little of what I feel when I hold him,” Clara said softly. “I can see it in your face.”
Virginia looked at Clara and saw that her eyes were again full of happy tears.
“Someday,” Clara went on, “it will be your turn. To hold a baby of your own. It’s . . . it’s something indescribable, Virginia. Something so precious that you can’t put it into words. If I never . . . never do another thing in my life, I will feel that I have really lived.”
Virginia looked from the small child to his weak mother. Fear gripped her heart. Did Clara mean . . . ? Surely not.
But Clara looked so totally at peace that the tightness began to leave Virginia’s chest.
“And you’ve helped to give me this, Virginia,” Clara went on. “All of those months of nursing and cooking and cleaning so that I could reach this moment. And all of the sewing. He wouldn’t have a thing to wear if it weren’t for you.”
Virginia smiled, knowing that was an exaggeration, but she didn’t care. Willing, for the moment, to overlook the many items that her mother and grandmother had added to the baby’s chest of drawers.
“I can never thank you enough. Never. You’ve given me the most precious gift that one could ever give,” Clara finished.
The baby began to squirm in earnest. Clara reached out a hand to pull back the blanket. She chuckled softly again. “So you want to eat again, do you, Anthony? All right. Come to Mama.”
Virginia reluctantly relinquished the baby into Clara’s open arms.
She stood. “I must go,” she whispered, “or Uncle Luke will come throw me out.”
“I know.”
She reached down to kiss Clara’s cheek, then pressed a kiss on the top of Anthony’s soft baby head, as well. Her eyes flashed a silent message to her sister, then she tiptoed from the room.
When she entered the kitchen, her uncle Luke looked up from his writing. “The others went on,” he told her. “Said they hoped you didn’t mind.”
Virginia shook her head. She did not mind. In fact she was glad. Glad to be alone. She was filled with so many emotions that she looked forward to some private time to try to sort them through. The walk home alone was just what she needed.
———
“Seen a lot of scurrying around your house lately,” a voice greeted her as she passed Mr. Adamson’s fence. He was there, stooped and tottery, his wrinkled face showing deep interest and concern.
Virginia stopped. “Clara has a son. Born yesterday,” she informed him, her face breaking into a broad smile.
“How is she?”
Virginia’s smile faded but did not entirely disappear. “She . . . she’s very happy . . . but not strong yet.”
He said nothing. Just nodded. One hand reached up to remove the battered hat, and his eyes dropped to the ground at his feet. Virginia wondered if, in the short silence that followed, he was praying.
Then he lifted his eyes again, and the dirt-covered hand pushed the hat roughly back on his darkened silver hair. He nodded, seeming to have all of the information he needed. “I’ll send her some of these early roses,” he said as he turned away.
Virginia noticed how unsteady he had become on his feet and how his hands trembled slightly as he picked up his garden trowel from the fence post where he had placed it.
“She’d like that,” she answered before she moved on toward home.
———
In the days that followed, much of Virginia’s time was taken with duties at Clara’s or filling in at home while her mother helped Clara. Clara was not regaining strength as they had hoped.
Virginia loved looking after small Anthony. Even the washing of the baby items seemed much more fun than hanging the home laundry out on long lines in the summer sun. She loved watching Troy and his loving pride in his tiny son.
Clara tried to push herself as she choked down nourishing food or attempted simple bed exercises to improve her strength. She was determined that she would be able to care for her own baby. She insisted on changing diapers and burping after feedings and singing him lullabies. Virginia often was concerned that Clara might be trying too hard, pushing too fast, but she knew that her uncle Luke was keeping a sharp eye on Clara.
By the end of July there had not seemed to be much improvement. After a family conference, it was decided that it would be wise to bring Clara and the baby to the Simpson home to make the nursing care easier for those involved.
Clara and her infant son were moved back into Clara’s old bedroom, and a cot was set up for Francine in with Virginia. Troy, who ran his father’s store, had his days full with the business, the home garden, and trying to also help his wife. Virginia felt that poor Troy was always on a run, coming and going between work, checking on things at their own little house, and spending time with Clara and Anthony.
The work had increased for all of them, but Virginia did not fret under the load. It became more and more of a pleasure to care for her young nephew. She could not believe how quickly he grew. How quickly he changed. In no time at all he was smiling at her as she gave him his morning bath. Then he was giggling as she played little piggy with his toes. He seemed to know her the minute she entered the room to pluck him from his crib in the morning to deliver him to his mother for nursing.
In fact, the summer slipped by with Virginia scarcely noticing. She did not have time to chafe over the fact that she was spending those long months without Jamison. Oh, she missed him. She even had her dreams of what it would be like to have a home of their own with a baby that was really hers. But her hours were so filled with small Anthony, caring for Clara, and helping her mother with house and garden duties that she really did not have time or energy for moping.
But as August moved toward September and Jenny popped in and out with her wild excitement over soon leaving for college, Virginia’s tension began to mount. Did she, or did she not, want to leave and go away to college herself?
Yes. Yes, she did. It was true that it would be hard to leave young Anthony. But she couldn’t wait to begin her own college experience—and to be part of Jamison’s life again.
CHAPTER 6
Once she had made the decision, Virginia began in earnest to make her own preparations for college life. She had already been accepted at Webster College. Whenever she found a few extra moments, she went over her wardrobe, assessing and repairing and sewing complementary pieces. Her mother smiled and offered her assistance, and even Clara, from her sickbed, asked for small projects she might sew by hand. A few selected books, a favorite quilt for her dormitory bed—with each bit of progress Virginia’s excitement grew. It wouldn’t be long now.
One late summer evening, after Anthony had been tucked in for the night, Virginia decided on a drink of milk before retiring herself. She thought that all family members had already gone to their rooms, so she was surprised when she saw her mother sitting alone at the kitchen table, her back to the doorway.
Virginia stopped short and watched as Belinda rubbed a hand back and forth over her neck. Her head drooped. Her shoulders sagged. She looked exhausted—and old. It was a shock to Virginia. She let her eyes study the figure before her. Was her mother really getting old? Or was it the strain of the heavy burden she had been carrying? Would her mother have a return of her former vigor and cheer when Clara improved?
Virginia did not enter the kitchen as planned but stole silently back to her own bedroom, her thoughts tumbling about in troubled chaos. What was happening? Her mother never complained of fatigue, but she was clearly showing it in the unguarded moment. She looked utterly spent. Why had Virginia not noticed it before? Did the others know? Shouldn’t something be done about it? Surely her uncle Luke must be aware. Why hadn’t he done something? Said something? What about her father?
Wasn’t he concerned?
If her mother was already worn out, how would she be when she had to manage alone? Francine tried to help, too, but her youth and the fact of school starting soon made her efforts too inconsistent to count for much. Perhaps, as her mother had cheerfully noted, they might be able to find a neighborhood woman who would be willing to come in two or three times a week to help with laundry or floor scrubbing. But there was so much more to be done. Virginia knew that. Daily meals and baking. Shopping. Cleaning. Baby care. Clara’s care. It all added up to a very heavy load. And it didn’t look to Virginia as if all the responsibilities would be lessening any time soon.
She had been so unaware. In her plans to go off to college, she had missed all the signs. How could she have been so blind?
Virginia sat at her window, staring into the dark as Francine peacefully slept on her cot. She shouldn’t go. She couldn’t. There was no way that it was right for her mother to try to get along without her. Virginia could see that clearly—now. All her plans—all her dreams of joining Jamison—shifted and dissolved as she buried her face in her hands and wept bitter tears.
Oh, God, she prayed, help me do what I need to do.
By morning, after a fitful sleep, she had herself well in hand and her resolve in place. She would put her plans aside until Clara was well enough to return to her home. And Virginia would pray, even more earnestly, that it would not take too long.
“I’ve done some thinking and praying,” she commented to her mother as the two of them worked side by side in the kitchen. “I’ve decided to wait a bit longer for college.”
Belinda’s surprise showed on her face. “Whatever do you mean?”
“It isn’t the right time just now.” Virginia kept her voice carefully matter-of-fact.
“But you had your heart set—”
“I know. But it will wait. Clara seems to be getting a bit stronger. Maybe I’ll be able to go next year. Maybe I’ll only have to miss one term and can go after Christmas. But now . . .”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Virginia watched as her mother’s whole body seemed to relax. She knew without doubt that her decision had been good news for her mother. She could see the relief written all over her face.
But then Belinda said, “You think about it a bit more. Pray about it. I don’t want . . .”
“Mama, I have already prayed and thought,” said Virginia with finality. She didn’t add that she had also cried well into the night.
Belinda’s eyes searched her face, then she nodded. She sighed deeply and lowered herself to a kitchen chair.
Virginia was afraid she was going to start crying again. Determinedly she held her emotions in check.
“I won’t pretend, Virginia,” Belinda said slowly, her own emotions making her voice shaky. “I didn’t know how we would ever make it without you. But I so much wanted . . . I mean, this is . . . so difficult to ask you to put aside your plans for us.”
“You didn’t ask me, Mama.”
“I know. I couldn’t. Really. I have wanted you to be able to follow your own dreams. Not . . . not be forced to lay them aside for us. For me. And Clara. I know how excited you have been about going to college. About being with Jamison.”
Virginia managed a smile. “That will wait,” she said, speaking the words as much to convince herself as her mother.
“Jenny goes off in a couple of weeks.”
“Jenny isn’t even going to the same college.”
“I know, but—”
“It’s all right, Mama. I am convinced that this is the right decision.”
Belinda smiled and reached out a hand to brush back a strand of hair from her daughter’s cheek. Virginia needed all her willpower to keep tears from overflowing her eyes.
She did know she had done the right thing, but still it was very hard to put her own future on hold.
Later that night her father sought a few minutes with her alone.
“I can’t tell you how proud I am of you,” he began with a warm hug. “I know how much you wanted to go to college. I didn’t want to deter you from doing that, but frankly, I have been so worried about your mother. She’s pushed herself to near exhaustion. I’ve tried to find help, but so far every woman I can think of seems to have all she can do to keep up with her own household. Thank you, Virginia, for making this sacrifice. I don’t suppose there’s anything you could have done to convince me of your . . . your maturity and selflessness more than this has.”
It was enough for Virginia.
———
Jenny was shocked when she heard the news.
“How could you?” she demanded. “I can’t wait to get out of this dumpy little town. I wouldn’t stay on here for anybody.”
Virginia could have responded that if that was the case, Jenny did not understand about family. But she held her tongue.
“I can’t imagine why you want to stay,” Jenny ranted on. “This place is—”
“It’s not that I want to,” Virginia finally broke in. “My family needs me, Jenny. Mama is going to collapse if she doesn’t have help. And, anyway, I wasn’t going to college to escape this place. I like it here. I was going for an education.”
“Hah,” scoffed Jenny. “You were going so you could keep your eye on your Jamison, and you know it.”
“I was not.”
“You were, too. You couldn’t wait to be there with him. That’s the only reason you chose Webster. For Jamison!”
Virginia flushed. “I admit I want to be with Jamison. What’s wrong about that? But it wasn’t so I could keep my eye on him. Jamison doesn’t need . . .”
But Jenny “hahed” again in a very loud voice and tossed her red hair. “You don’t think there are other girls after him? I would be if I were there.”
Truthfully, Virginia had never entertained the thought before. Of course there would be other girls after him. Jamison was a very attractive young man.
“Jamison wouldn’t . . .”
Jenny’s “hah” was accompanied this time with a loud, brassy laugh.
Virginia, too, tossed her head. “He told me he’s much too busy with football to even think about social things. He’s been worried how we would find time to be together when I got there.”
Jenny swore and exclaimed, “I’d dump a guy who thought more of his football than he did of me.”
“It’s not that.”
Jenny cocked her head to one side and gave Virginia a knowing look. “No?”
“No, it isn’t. It’s just that it’s very important that he do well. If he wants a career as a player, then he has to give football his full attention right now. It’s not that he’s forgotten me. He writes. . . .”
Jenny gave a dismissive sniff, so Virginia let the words trail off. Jenny could never be convinced of anything once she had made up her mind. But then Jenny surprised her by completely changing her tone.
“I’m sorry, Virginia. Really sorry. It would have been good for you to get away and find out what the world is really about. Have a little fun. Learn to live a little. You are so . . . so staid and . . . and responsible.”
Jenny spat out the last word as though it were something disgraceful. Virginia could feel her hackles rising again. “I wasn’t planning to let college change that, Jenny,” she threw at her friend.
Jenny gave her a long, hard look. “Then you have completely missed the point of what college is all about, Virginia,” she said scathingly and turned and walked away.
———
It was the hardest letter Virginia had ever written, but she had to let Jamison know she would not be joining him for the fall term.
In his own letters, Jamison always asked about Clara and the new baby, so Virginia was confident that he shared her concern, at least as far as he was able, being so far away and so busy with his job and football. She was sure he would understand her decision, would even support her in making the choice to stay to help her mother. Yet i
t would be disappointing to him, just as it was to her. He had to know immediately so he could make the difficult mental and emotional adjustments before classes started.
It was hard to strike a proper balance in her letter. Hard to let him know her deep disappointment without making it sound like she felt herself a martyr for making the decision that she had. She didn’t want him to believe that she was thinking, Poor little me—I’m giving up so much to be a good little girl. Yet she did not want him to think that she didn’t feel deep sorrow over more long months apart.
Virginia wrote and tore up four copies before she was satisfied that the words on the pages properly conveyed her feelings without sounding maudlin.
She delivered the letter to the post office herself and slipped the envelope into the letter slot. Inwardly she worried about what her missive would do to Jamison. It was not just her plans she was disturbing. It was his plan, as well. In fact, he was the one who had chosen the college he felt to be right for both of them.
Virginia felt very close to tears again as she made her way back home to the stack of baby laundry.
———
Jenny was bubbling with enthusiasm, as if they had not ever had the recent exchange. “I’ve come to say good-bye. My luggage has already been dropped off at the station. My pa took it over.”
Virginia had never seen her so excited. “I thought you weren’t leaving until Saturday,” Virginia questioned.
“I talked my pa into letting me go today so I’d have lots of time to look over the campus.”
“You’ve already visited the campus.”
Jenny shrugged. “I know, but Pa fell for it. Besides, I do want time to settle in. Sort of watch others arrive. Check out the hangouts, et cetera.”
Virginia felt emptiness gnawing at her insides. Jenny was off to college and she was not. The reality of her situation hit her fully.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said simply, knowing that she really was.
“I was hoping you’d walk with me to catch my train.”
Virginia nodded and moved into the living room, removing her apron as she went. “Mama, Jenny is here. She’s leaving for college.”
