by Lyn Cote
“Yesterday, no…” She fell silent, her face twisted as if in pain. “What day is it?”
“Sunday.”
“That’s right.” She rubbed her forehead. “I probably sound nuts. But if this is Sunday, then that means it happened just before we went to Brooke’s. I remember being at Brooke’s, but it was like a dream or something, like I wasn’t really there.”
“You didn’t act like yourself. You were—” He struggled for the right word. “You were on autopilot.”
“That’s troubling.”
“You said something bad happened?” Almost afraid to ask, he kissed her hand and held it close to him. He had to know the truth.
“Carrie called me. I think it sent me into some kind of shock.”
He moved closer. “Your sister called?”
She nodded. “Ever since your dad gave Mimi the medicine, it started coming back to me, the reality of what she told me.” She pressed her lips together.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m here.”
She glanced up. “I know. You are very much here.” She took a deep breath. “Carrie said she’d been in prison.”
“In prison? But why wouldn’t the police have told you that?”
“She said she used an assumed name, the one she’d been using in Detroit.” Jeannie’s voice trembled.
He pulled her even closer, longing to comfort her. “Jeannie, I’m so sorry. That must have been a real shock.”
“She…she said she was going to get a job so she could take back the girls. I hung up on her.”
“What? Doesn’t she realize that she’s a stranger to the twins?” Agitation stirred him—charging him up. Jake worked to keep his voice down. “You’re the only mom they’ve ever known.”
Jeannie rested her head on his chest. “I don’t want to fight my sister for her children, but—”
“You won’t fight her unless she won’t see reason. She has yet to prove she can be a mom.” Outrage, heat, flooded Jake’s face and neck. “You’ve proven you’re a great mom.” He kissed her hair. “And nobody better say different.”
“I want to be happy that Carrie has finally contacted me. But you’re right. I can’t let her do anything that will harm the girls. If that means fighting her, I’ll fight.” Jeannie’s voice hardened.
Jake turned this over in his mind, sorting it out. His tension eased. He took a breath. “I don’t think you’ll have to fight her. You just said she went to prison under an assumed name. She won’t want a court case where that can be brought to light. A recently released felon, trying to convince a judge to give her custody of children she’s had no contact with since they were babies—I don’t think so.”
“But maybe after last night, I shouldn’t be taking care of the twins either.” She lowered her face.
He gripped her chin and turned her face toward him. “What would make you say that?”
A lone tear dripped down her soft cheek. “Well, I went into shock after Carrie called. Maybe I’m not stable either.” She tried to turn, but he held on.
“Jake, I never told you this, but our mother, Carrie’s and mine, died in an institution. She was deeply depressed most of her life. That’s how Carrie and I ended up in foster care. Maybe neither Carrie nor I should be taking care of the twins—”
“Stop speaking nonsense.” Jake gripped her chin more firmly. “Your being severely shocked by your sister’s totally out of the blue call and her threatening to take the twins from you is normal. And you’ve recovered already. You’re speaking rationally.”
He let go of her chin and stroked her cheek, meeting her eyes with honesty. “I recall from my psych classes that a person can experience a trauma shock, which can have the effect you described. It’s sort of related to post-traumatic shock disorder but is limited to one event and is usually short-lived. Now I don’t want you to say that you aren’t one of the best moms I know again.” He tucked her closer.
She snuggled into his shoulder. “Oh, Jake, I’m so glad you’re here. When I went out into the storm to get you, I had a terrible flashback to the worst night of my life.” She shuddered against him.
“I know what that’s like.” The faces of his mom and Tommy crowded in and he blocked them out. He had to be here for Jeannie, not dwell on his own past. “What happened? Tell me and set yourself free.”
“You sound very wise.”
“If I do, it’s newly developed. Now tell me.” He kissed her forehead, wanting to kiss her lips, but knowing that must and could wait.
“Carrie was still a baby and I was just starting kinder garten.” Jeannie’s voice sounded small and tight. “I think my mom must have overdosed on something, some prescription medicine, maybe. I heard a loud sound, something heavy falling, and went into the bedroom. She was unconscious on the floor. I thought she might have died. We didn’t have a phone and we lived in a bad neighborhood, so I wasn’t allowed to go outside by myself.”
Jake hugged her. Jeannie, my sweet Jeannie.
“But I had to get help. I went to the other apartment doors and knocked, calling for help. Nobody was home or would answer. So I ran out on the street and went to the corner drugstore. The man there called the police and an ambulance.”
She paused, burrowing closer to him. “We never lived together as a family again. Fortunately, a foster family took both Carrie and me so we weren’t split up. But my mother never recovered. Once in a while, a social worker would take us to visit her. But our mom was never better again, never able to face life again.”
Jake wrapped his arms around Jeannie tighter. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyes and then dipped lower to kiss her lips. “I love you, Jeannie. I want you in my life, now and forever.”
“Are you ready for a package deal?” she asked with a wry twist of her lips.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way. I love your girls, you know that.”
“I do. I’d given up hope, but you do love them. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice.” She let out a long, deep sigh. “Oh, Jake, I love you, too. I have since that first night we found the kittens. I just couldn’t admit it.” She turned toward him fully and lifted her mouth for another kiss.
“My sweet Jeannie.” Jake bent his chin and pressed his lips to hers.
Finally, they parted and Jeannie sighed a very different sigh from her earlier one. “I’ve always felt an irrational guilt over not somehow saving my mom. I didn’t realize that the guilt was still there in the back of my head. It was. But no more.”
Jake’s memory took him back. He was a kid again, holding a phone, and a cop was saying, “Your mother and brother have had an accident.” Guilt wrapped around his lungs. Jeannie had used the right words: irrational guilt. I couldn’t have changed anything even if I’d been there.
He tuned back to what Jeannie was saying, “I am not my mother. I’m not Carrie. I’m Jeannie. And I won’t let Carrie take my girls from me. It’s not that I don’t want her in their lives, but she has done nothing to prove that she can be a good mom.”
“Except for leaving her girls with you.” A very wise and loving woman.
Jeannie smiled. She stroked his cheek. “I love you.”
He kissed her lightly in reply. “My Jeannie.” My true match. Joy bubbled up inside him.
She closed her eyes and rested against him. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want this precious moment to end. The wind lashed the windows, but its frost couldn’t touch him. Winter was past in his heart, in both their hearts.
A few hours later, Jake heard movement down the hall. He eased himself from under Jeannie’s head. She had fallen deeply asleep and he had moved her head onto his lap. Now he got up and went to see if his dad or the girls needed him. My girls. The wonder that he would soon have a family of his own, with a wonderful woman and two great kids, filled him up. He nearly chuckled out loud.
His father stood in the doorway of the girls’ bedroom. Jake came up behind him and rested a hand on his dad�
�s back. “How are you feeling?”
His dad jerked slightly in surprise. “Not too good. Not too bad. When this storm ends, we’ll call Lewis. He’ll want me back in Madison as soon as this weather moves out.”
Jake rested a hand on Dan’s shoulder and looked past him. Cindy and Mimi were sleeping the peaceful sleep of innocence.
“Looks like we’ve all enjoyed our long winter’s nap,” his father said, a smile in his voice.
“I’m going to check the fire. How about a cup of tea?” Jake nearly rubbed the area over his heart. For the first time he could recall, he didn’t feel that choked sensation when speaking to his father. He’d shed the past today.
“Sounds good,” Dan agreed.
They headed toward the kitchen. Jake stopped, opened the wood stove door and added a few logs. Then gripping the potholder around the handle, he carried the steaming cast-iron kettle to the kitchen.
His father was preparing ham and cheese sandwiches at the counter. “I don’t think Jeannie will mind if we help ourselves. And if you look at your watch, you’ll see it’s nearly seven. My stomach woke me up.”
“Make me one, too. In fact, make me two.” His appetite roared for food.
Soon Jake joined his dad at the table. He picked up a sandwich. And then he stopped to bow his head for a silent grace and a quick thank-you to God. When he looked up, his dad was eyeing him.
“I haven’t seen you do that for years.”
“This has been an important day in my life.” Jake smiled, knowing that this time he and his dad could just talk, not argue.
“Are you and Jeannie going to get together?”
“Yes, I’ve proposed and she’s accepted.” Would his dad stick to his opinion that Jeannie wasn’t good for Jake?
Dan finished chewing and lifted his cup of tea. “Bummer will be delighted.” He paused. “Proposing takes guts.”
His dad’s hesitation didn’t stir his stomach as usual. Jake lifted his sandwich for another bite. “Not really. Jeannie is an amazing woman, and I’m getting two great daughters in the deal.”
His dad studied him. “You sound different.”
“I feel different.” He took a deep full breath. “It feels good. Dad, we’ve been separated by more than miles since Mom and Tommy died.” Jake chewed, waiting. Would his dad change the subject, say something wounding?
“We have. You’ve blamed me for not being here. And I’ve blamed myself.”
Jake wondered why, here in the dimly lit room with the sound of wind under their words, they could speak about what had torn them apart for years. “I blamed myself, too.” His voice came out gruff.
His dad looked up sharply. “Why?”
Jake shrugged. “Survivor’s guilt. I think I thought irrationally that if I’d been there, I could have stopped the accident from happening.”
“That’s ridiculous. The only difference would have been that you would have witnessed it happening. And that wouldn’t have made the loss any easier.”
“Harder.” Jake drew in an easy breath and took another bite of the sandwich. Ham and cheese had never tasted better.
Dan nodded solemnly, sipping his tea. “Now that’s in the past once and for all. Neither of us could have prevented their deaths. And for the record, I loved them both. After it happened, I thought I would die, too, for a while. And coming here was such a reminder of all I’d lost. That’s why I stayed away.”
Jake rested a hand on his dad’s arm. “I know.”
Dan pressed a hand over Jake’s. “I won’t be a coward anymore. And a few days ago when I saw what so many in this community feel about you and your work here, it made me realize that I’ve missed out on being a part of this community. When I was young, I just wanted to get out into the world. I wanted no part of farming. My dad gave me his blessing, though I’m sure it was hard for him to accept that I wouldn’t be taking on the farm.” He lifted his sandwich.
“Grandpa never said anything.”
Dan grinned. “He wouldn’t. From now on, I’m not going to be traveling around speaking and demonstrating surgical procedures. Or skiing downhill in Colorado. That’s hard for me to swallow. What will I do?”
Free of the past, free of guilt and resentment, Jake spoke without hesitation. “I’ve got something you can help with. Something good.”
The wind stopped blowing that evening. Jeannie joined Jake looking out the front window. “They’ll be able to send the crews out now to get the power lines fixed and the roads plowed,” Jake said.
Jeannie wrapped her arms around Jake’s chest and rested her head against him. Love for this man expanded within her, warm and full. I’ll always remember this happy day.
Jake leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Dad and I will stay till the power goes back on. Mike is home tending our fire so our pipes don’t freeze this time.”
The sound of feet pattered behind them. “Mom! Mimi’s hungry.”
They turned to see Cindy. Jake bent and swung the girl into his arms. “Then we know she’s on the mend. When a sick kitten starts eating again, I know it will get better.”
“Were you two hugging?” Cindy asked.
“Yes, we were hugging. I’m going to be your daddy.”
Cindy whooped and hugged his neck. Then she leaped from his arms and raced toward her bedroom. “Mimi! Dr. Jake’s going to be our daddy!”
Sitting on the couch reading, Dan called out, “And I’m going to be your grandpa!”
Love and joy spurted upward like a geyser within Jeannie’s heart. Thank You, God. Thank You.
Chapter Thirteen
The April Fools’ Day blizzard proved to be that record-breaking winter’s grand finale. In the next three weeks of the awakening spring, work on Jeannie’s Habitat house sped up. Today Jeannie would move into her new house. She stood in her front yard, surrounded by volunteers carrying in her meager furniture.
Jake had invited her to look in the barn loft and a few stalls for furniture. Since after their upcoming May wedding they would be living in her new house, she would root around there in the coming weeks, adding as needed.
Dan and Mike would live in the McClure family home while Dan helped with the fundraising for Jake’s dream. A local plumber had donated his time to fix the burst pipes at the animal shelter, and the animals would soon return home.
Jeannie nearly danced in her driveway on New Friends Street. Her new house, her husband-to-be, how had these miracles happened, and to her? God is good.
With a loud crunching of brakes, a furniture van jerked to a stop at the curb. Soon a tall delivery man came forward. “Jeannie Broussard?”
Jeannie waved a hand and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. She glanced around, wondering why everyone looked expectant.
“Got your new bunk bed bedroom set,” the man said.
“What? I didn’t order—”
“Yeah, I know.” The man cut her off. “I been through this before with that house.” He pointed to the Chamberses’ house next door.
Rosa Chambers hurried forward. “I can’t believe this.” She turned to Jeannie. “The same thing happened to me the day I moved in. Somebody sent me a new bedroom set. I’ve never found out who sent it.”
“But—” Jeannie started to object.
“Lady,” the delivery man said, sounding put-upon, “all I do is make deliveries, and I got more than just yours today. Now where do I put the furniture? I got to set up the beds, too.”
“Don’t fight it, Jeannie,” Rosa advised. “Just show him which room is the girls’ bedroom.”
Glancing around, Jeannie realized that she must accept this or be incredibly rude. Probably Jake or Dan had sent it. But they wouldn’t have sent Rosa’s, would they? “Follow me.”
Within a few minutes, the bedroom set for her girls was in place and the two beds were ready for sheets. The delivery men just shrugged away all Jeannie’s questions. She watched them drive away and said a silent thank-you to God for the beautiful wa
lnut bedroom set.
A cheerful hubbub filled the rest of the day. Moving in, a potluck with the volunteers and then many, many thank-yous and goodbyes. Finally, only Jeannie, Jake and the twins remained around the kitchen table. At the door ready to leave, Dan and Brooke were petting the kittens and Bummer.
Jeannie’s cordless phone sounded. She lifted the receiver. “Hi, this is Jeannie.”
“Hi, this is Carrie.”
Jeannie’s heart lurched against her breastbone. She waved and mouthed goodbye to Brooke and Dan. Then she walked back to her bedroom and shut the door for privacy. “I was wondering why you hadn’t called back.”
“I’ve been busy.”
Jeannie tried to analyze her sister’s voice, but couldn’t. She decided to set the tone for this conversation. “Carrie, I went into shock the last time you called. But now that I’ve had time to think, I need to make it clear to you that my main goal is doing what’s best for the twins. You are their birth mother, but I’m the only mother they’ve ever known. I will not let you come in and disrupt their lives and—”
“You’re right,” Carrie cut in. “I…I wasn’t thinking the last time I called. I was living in a dream world where I’d get a job right away and get a nice place and we could all live together. I’ve been forced since then to face reality.”
“Where are you?”
“I came back to Milwaukee and found our old social worker. She got me into a group home for women who have gotten out of prison or some other bad situation. I’m going to school to get my GED, and then I’m going to work on getting certified as a nursing assistant.”
Jeannie’s heart stopped pounding. “That sounds good, Carrie. That’s what I did. Now I work at a vet clinic as the office manager. I want you to know that Cindy and Mimi know I’m their aunt and that when they were babies, their mom disappeared. So they know the truth. But they call me Mom. It was hard enough that they didn’t have a dad. They didn’t want to call me Aunt Jeannie when they got old enough to understand.”
