“I don’t mind, but it is your home,” Dad said.
Marcy elbowed Marshall. “Daddy K’s right.”
Marshall bowed his head. “Dear God, we are grateful for this holiday. We are grateful that Thy love has made us a family—”
I opened one eye and looked around the table. Mom and Dad were holding hands, their heads bowed close together. Granddad’s elbows were on the table, and he rested his chin in his hands. Marcy had one arm around Marshall and the other around her pregnant belly. Lily B was stuffing slices of jellied cranberry sauce into her mouth.
My parents loved Marcy as much as if she were really their daughter. When they told people that Lily B was their granddaughter or that Marshall was their son-in-law, they meant it.
My mom and dad were pretty terrific.
Marshall was right. God’s love had made us a family. I closed my eye and listened to the rest of Marshall’s prayer.
“Bless us that we will always be mindful of Thy love for us. Amen.”
I started to say amen, but a small hand shoved cranberry sauce in my mouth.
“That was a beautiful prayer, sweetheart,” Marcy said to Marshall.
“Cramberry face, cramberry face,” Lily B chanted.
I swallowed the cranberry sauce. “Silly Lily Billy.”
“Silly Unka Kebin.” Lily B picked up another slice of cranberry sauce. It slipped and splattered onto her plate.
“Silly both of you,” Marcy said. “Lily, sit down and eat your food. Kevin can feed himself.”
“Here, have a roll,” Granddad said to Lily B. He buttered the roll and set it on her plate.
“Fank you, Gam-pa.” Lily B threw him a kiss. Granddad threw one back.
“Well, it’s that time,” Dad announced as he poured gravy over his dressing and mashed potatoes. “Everyone has to name one thing they’re thankful for. If you don’t, you have to wash the dishes all by yourself. You go first, Kev.”
I wanted to say I was thankful that my parents were color blind. I wanted to say I was thankful that Granddad was living close to us. I wanted to say that I was thankful for Marcy, who was like a big sister to me. I wanted to say I was thankful to have Marshall for a friend. I wanted to say I was thankful for Lily B.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I said, “I’m thankful for Lima Bean.”
Mom raised her eyebrow. “And?”
“I’m thankful that Granddad made the turkey dressing this year instead of Mom.”
“I second your thankfulness for the dressing,” Granddad piped up.
Dad nodded, his mouth too full of turkey to add anything to the discussion.
Mom gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Arlice!”
Dad swallowed. “You know your dressing is slimy. You always put oysters in it. I hate slimy dressing.” He turned to Lily B. “Now, what is Grandpa’s baby thankful for?”
“I’m tankful I’m hafing a baby brudder.” Lily B pinched off tiny pieces of her roll and floated them in her gravy.
“What if it’s a sister?” Marshall asked.
“Mommy’s growing me a brudder,” Lily B said matter-of-factly.
“I’m thankful that all the people I love are healthy and happy,” Mom said.
Dad wiped the gravy off his moustache with his napkin. “I’m thankful we didn’t have to do a funeral today. It’s nice to have a normal turkey dinner for a change.”
Granddad rested his fork on the edge of his plate. “I’m thankful Sears is having a big sale on tools tomorrow. I plan to make my son go and buy some new ones.” He wagged his finger at Dad. “When you were younger I taught you to buy good tools and to take care of them. And what do you do when you’re an adult? You buy cheap tools and still don’t take care of them.”
Dad scooped up some more dressing. “I’m thankful my father lives here. I need someone to take care of my tools.”
I saw Mom nudge Dad under the table. She tilted her head in Marcy’s direction.
Marcy’s eyes were fixed on her plate. She was sweating and biting her lip.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked.
Marcy didn’t respond.
Marshall massaged her lower back. “Are you sick to your stomach again?”
Marcy gripped the table and shook her head.
Granddad rose from his chair and put his arm around Marcy’s shoulders. “Let’s walk over to the couch. You look like you need to lie down.”
Dad got up too. “We’ll get some pillows and put your feet up.”
“I’ll be all right.” Marcy pushed her plate back and scooted away from the table.
Mom got a damp washcloth and patted Marcy’s face. “You’re sweating like a pig. Are you having contractions?”
“I’m not sure. I just feel . . . strange.”
Marshall went for the phone. “I’m calling the doctor.”
“Is my little brudder coming?” Lily B asked.
“Mommy’s not sure,” Marcy replied. She stood up slowly. “Mommy just needs to—”
Then there was a loud splat. Water was spreading all over the floor, and Marcy was standing in the middle of it.
“Your water broke, Marcy. Kevin, run and get a mop.” Mom’s voice was uncharacteristically calm. She turned to Dad and pointed to Granddad. “You two help her to the bathroom. I’ll get some dry clothes and be right there.”
“Is this bad?” I whispered to Mom after Dad and Granddad had Marcy in the hall.
“No. It just means that she’s going into labor. We need to get her to the hospital.” She went to the kitchen, and I could hear her talking to Marshall. “Tell the doctor that Marcy’s water broke, and we’re leaving for the hospital.”
I got the mop and started cleaning things up. Mom ran upstairs to get Marcy’s things.
I felt a timid tug on my jeans. “Unka Kebin?” Lily B’s dark eyes were swimming in tears. “Is Mommy okay?”
I squatted down and Lily B wrapped her arms around my neck.
I patted her on the back. “It’s time for your little brother to be born. Mommy’s okay. She’s going to the hospital now.”
“What about me? Do I have to go too?”
“No. You’ll stay here. And while Mommy’s gone, I’ll stay here and take care of you.”
Lily B patted my back in return. “And I’ll stay here and take care of Lima Bean.”
Lima Bean chirped and leapt from the window. He slinked across the room, jumped on a chair, and sniffed the table.
“Why don’t you give Lima Bean some turkey while I finish cleaning up?” I took the slice of white meat off my plate and put it in Lily B’s hand. She ran to the den and Lima Bean followed in an easy, expectant trot.
“Where’s the keys?” Marshall asked.
I pointed to the counter.
“I’ll bring the car around.” He snatched up the keys and ran out the door.
Dad and Granddad came in just as I finished mopping. Dad began covering the food. “Looks like our Thanksgiving meal will have to be postponed. We’d better get this in the refrigerator.”
Granddad put the aluminum foil back over the sweet potatoes and carried them to the kitchen.
Marcy came in, Mom walking alongside to keep her steady. Dad abandoned the peas and carrots and went to Marcy. He brushed the stray wisps of hair away from her forehead. “Would you like me to give you a father’s blessing?”
Marcy’s hands were trembling. She sat down.
Marshall ran in. “The car’s ready, and I got the suitcase—”
“I want Daddy K to give me a blessing,” Marcy said to Marshall.
Marshall looked at Marcy. “Is that what you want?”
She nodded.
Marshall turned to Dad. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
Dad placed his hands on Marcy’s head. “Marcy Ellen Cartwright, by the power of the Melchezidek priesthood, I pronounce this blessing upon you.” His voice was firm and sure, without hesitation or uncertainty. “Angels are attending you and the chil
d that will soon be born. The Lord is mindful of your family and is watching over your daughter and your husband. The Lord wants you to know that He loves you and that He has guided your life in the past, to lead you to people who would love you.”
Mom choked back a sob.
“The Lord is aware of the righteous desires of your heart. If you will open your heart to Him, He will help you understand the Book of Mormon and the other scriptures you are reading so that you can gain a testimony of them, and so your righteous desire to have an eternal family can come true.”
Marcy was reading the scriptures?
When the blessing was over, Marshall took Marcy’s arm. “Are you going to follow?”
“We’ll be right behind you,” Dad said.
Granddad got the suitcases and left with Marcy and Marshall.
“Will you stay here with Lily?” Mom asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
Mom hugged me, then ran across the street to get the car. Lily B curled up on the couch with Lima Bean. She was telling him a story about a girl whose little brother got in trouble for eating all the cramberry sauce at Fanksgibings, but she rescued him by sending the cat to the grocery store to buy more.
Dad and I put the rest of the food away while he waited for Mom to get the car.
“I didn’t know Marcy was reading the Book of Mormon,” I said.
Dad scraped the food off the last plate and put it in the dishwasher. “I didn’t either.”
Chapter Eight
Desmond Louis Cartwright was born the day after Thanksgiving. The next afternoon I took Lily B to the hospital. We rode the elevator to the maternity floor. I held Lily B up to the nursery window and pointed to the bassinet that had the “Baby Cartwright” sign on it. Desmond was swaddled in a light blue blanket. All you could see was his face.
“There he is,” I said. “That’s your little brother.”
“Where’s his arms and legs?”
“They’re bundled up in the blanket.”
“Will he like Lima Bean?”
“I’m sure.”
“Will Lima Bean like him best?”
“I doubt it. Desmond’s too little to play with him yet.”
“Good,” Lily B said. “I want Lima Bean to like me best.”
“C’mon, squirt. Let’s go see your mother.”
When we found Marcy’s room, I let Lily B knock on the door.
“Come in,” Marcy sang. Lily B peeked around the door.
“Don’t be shy,” Marcy called to Lily B.
Lily B turned to me. “I don’t want to.”
I picked her up and carried her in the room.
Marcy looked ready to cry when she saw Lily B. “Come here, baby.” She reached for Lily B, but Lily B turned away and hid her face in my shoulder.
“It’s okay,” I spoke softly in her ear. “Let your mom hold you.”
I sat Lily B down on the bed next to her mother. She put her thumb in her mouth and flopped back onto the pillow.
Marshall brought in a tray from the cafeteria. “Here’s your lunch. Two double cheeseburgers, an extra-large order of onion rings, coleslaw, dill pickles, gelatin salad, and three cartons of chocolate milk.”
Marcy opened one of the cartons. “Want some chocolate milk, baby?”
Lily B took her thumb out of her mouth. “Gimme a straw, Daddy.”
Marshall found a straw and stuck it in the carton. Lily B scooted closer to her mother and slurped her milk.
After I hugged Marcy, I asked, “How are you feeling, besides hungry?”
“Great.” She squirted mustard out of a small packet onto the first cheeseburger. “Doctor says I can go home tomorrow.”
Marshall helped himself to one of Marcy’s onion rings. “I’m going home later to make sure Desmond’s room is ready. There are still some baby things in the attic we haven’t unpacked.”
Lily B’s chocolate milk carton was empty. She took the straw out and looked inside.
“Want some more milk?” Marcy asked.
“No, Mommy. But I hafta go to the bafroom.” Lily B rolled off the bed and ran to Marshall. “Will you help me, Daddy? I hafta potty.”
“Sure thing.” Marshall took Lily B’s hand. “We’ll be right back, Mommy.” He took Lily B into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door.
I stepped closer to Marcy’s bed. There was a question I was dying to ask her. “Are you reading the Book of Mormon?”
Marcy’s eyes widened. “Marshall and I hadn’t told anyone about that. I don’t know how Daddy K knew. When he said it in the blessing, I almost fell out of the chair.”
“What made you start reading it?”
“When I got pregnant with Desmond, Marshall said he thought we should start going to church. He said if we wait until our children are older, they won’t want to go. He says we should start now while they’re young.”
I copied Marshall and nabbed one of Marcy’s onion rings.
She continued. “We’ve gone to a couple of churches in town, but they haven’t felt right. It’s like there’s someplace we’re supposed to be and we haven’t figured it out yet. Then one day when Marshall and I were talking about it, he remembered something you said to him a few years ago. You told him you knew God had led your family here so we’d find each other. And you said that God meant for families to be together, even in heaven.”
I remembered that conversation. “I didn’t think Marshall believed me. He acted like I was crazy.”
“Guess you were wrong, little brother.” Marcy grinned. “Marshall said he wanted to learn more about your church. I thought it would be best not to tell anyone. If we decide not to join, I don’t want to hurt Momma and Daddy K.”
The toilet flushed.
“Don’t say anything, okay?” Marcy whispered. “I don’t understand a lot of what we’re reading, and we’re still trying to decide what to do.”
“I’ll keep it quiet.”
Marshall opened the bathroom door. Lily B bounced out. “Let’s go see Desmond, Daddy. Can Mommy go too?”
Marcy sat up and put on her robe. “Get my slippers, Kevin.”
I handed Marcy her purple knit slippers. As we walked to the visiting area, I wondered how I could convince Marcy and Marshall that coming to our church would be the right thing to do. But every idea that crossed my mind seemed pushy or trite. I didn’t know how to help them.
If I didn’t know how to help my own sister understand the gospel, I sure wouldn’t be able to help anyone else. And if I didn’t have the skills to be a missionary, then there wasn’t much reason for me to be one, was there?
After we were seated, a nurse entered the room carrying Desmond. The nurse sat down beside Lily B and placed Desmond in her arms. Lily B’s eyes were bright and round with delight. “Lookit me, Mommy! I can hold Desmond! And he’s not crying!”
Marcy and Marshall cooed over Desmond and praised Lily B for being such a good big sister.
“I will tell you about Lima Bean. He’s Unka Kebin’s cat, but Lima Bean likes me best,” Lily B whispered to Desmond. “If you gib him your food he’ll like you, too—but he’ll still like me best ’cause I was first.”
The next morning I went out to do some sketches in my wildlife journal. When I finished, I filled out the application for Nelson–Barrett U, put it in the postage-paid envelope, and put it in the mailbox.
If I wasn’t going on a mission, then I needed to start making plans for college.
Not long after Desmond was born, President Carter caught me after church. “I’d like to speak to you, Kevin.”
“Will it take long?”
“No.” He opened the door to his makeshift office. “Have a seat.” I sat down in the beat-up wooden chair. “I hear you’re eighteen now. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Once you graduate from high school, you can be ordained an elder in the Melchizedek priesthood.” Then President Carter crossed his arms and stared at the painting of Jesus on the wa
ll and didn’t say anything for what seemed like fifteen minutes. The long silence was awkward. I decided to ask him about Dani. I hadn’t seen her at church for a couple of Sundays.
“Is Dani sick today?”
“No.”
Silence again.
“I guess I’ll see her in seminary tomorrow.”
President Carter rubbed the back of his neck as if his muscles were tense and needed to be loosened. “Dani is struggling. Do me a favor—don’t stop being her friend. She needs you right now. You’re the only person her age in the Church.”
“I’ve tried. But she left me at homecoming, remember?”
“I remember.”
“I don’t think she wants to be friends with me anymore.”
“Maybe she doesn’t.” He wrung his hands. “To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’m running out of options. I’m praying for more.” He cleared his throat, then sat up straight and opened a folder that was lying on his desk. “But that’s not why I asked you here. The time has come for you to decide if you will serve a mission. My job is to help you during the next few months as you prepare to make that decision. Have you given this any thought?”
I didn’t feel comfortable saying what was on my mind. How could I be a missionary if I didn’t know how to convince someone the Church is true? I didn’t know how to convince Marcy and Marshall. I didn’t know how to convince Rhanda Mudd. And I sure didn’t know how to convince Dani. Besides, I’d sent in my application to Nelson–Barrett U. “Dad told me once that he’d like for me to. But he also said it had to be my decision, not his.”
“Your father’s right. No one can—or should—make that choice for you. This is between you and the Lord. But as long as you’re healthy and there are no extenuating circumstances, you need to prayerfully consider it.” He took a folder out of his desk drawer and handed it to me. “This is the application. It’s not time to fill it out now. You should read over it and become familiar with it. There’s more to serving a mission than spiritual preparation. You’ll have to have a physical, get any necessary dental work completed, make financial arrangements—”
“What about college? What if I get a scholarship? Two years is a long time to be away from college.”
President Carter scratched his chin. “Have you read the Book of Mormon?”
The Final Farewell Page 6
