“Hey, babe,” he replied, pouring the dry food into Max’s bowl. “I brought us Chinese,” he added and gestured toward the bag on the table.
“Yum. I’m starving.” Michelle said, opening the bag with her free hand. “Smells heavenly.”
“I thought it would speed up the process of getting the tree decorated before it gets too late.” Steve was smiling and looked happier than Michelle had seen him in quite a while.
Thank you, Lord. Whatever you’re doing, it must be working.
“Here. Hold Madison while I serve it up,” Michelle said, handing the baby to him. She noticed how awkward he seemed as he reached out to take her. “She won’t break, Steve. Just hold her up against your shoulder,” she added, draping a burp cloth there.
Madison bobbed her head for a moment and then rested it down against him. Steve slowly sat down at the kitchen table, a nervous look on his face.
“Relax,” Michelle said. “I’ll have this served up in no time.”
She moved around the kitchen getting plates, glasses and silverware and setting them on the table. Then she opened the cartons of food and served it up.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked.
“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Steve replied, still frozen in the same position.
Michelle poured them both some milk and peeked at Madison’s face. “She’s asleep,” she said quietly. “Here. I’ll take her and lay her down in the cradle.”
Steve seemed relieved as she gently lifted Madison off his shoulder. The baby stirred slightly in her arms and then was still again. She left the kitchen and was back in a minute.
“Okay, let’s eat.” She reached out her hand to Steve as they bowed their heads in prayer.
After dinner, Steve brought the tree in and set it up in the corner of the living room. It was full and fragrant.
“It looks great!” Michelle exclaimed. “This is our first Christmas as a family.”
He agreed, studying the tree to see if it should be turned or adjusted in any way.
By now, Madison was awake and watching from her swing as they put the lights, garland, and decorations on the tree. “Next year, we’ll need a fence around this to keep you away,” Michelle said to her daughter, picturing her toddling around by then.
“Your mom’s right,” Steve added. “Hey, maybe we need one this year, too.” Max had snuck in from the other room and was eyeing a shiny ornament on a lower bough.
“Uh, oh. Forgot about him,” Michelle said.
As they stood admiring the glittering tree, Steve draped his arm over her shoulder.
She felt a warmth rush through her and a desire for her husband that she hadn’t felt since the baby was born. “It feels good having your arm around me.”
He smiled, then lifted her face with his hands and kissed her slowly, deeply. “I love you, Michelle.”
“I love you, too, honey.” She looked up into his eyes and could see pain. “What? What is it?”
“Nothing,” he replied, pulling her close as she relaxed into his arms.
Although the house was sparsely decorated and Michelle was physically exhausted, this Christmas held a special glow for her. Holding tiny Maddie in her arms as she rocked beside their Christmas tree filled her heart with joy.
Sharing this holiday with her parents was really special, too. Her dad looked so proud as Michelle’s mom helped him hold Madison. And her brother was having a blast in his new role as Uncle Tim. He’d bought Madison a tiny newborn onesie with a surfboard on the front and “Seal Beach Baby” on the back. “I know she’s not technically from Seal Beach,” he explained. “But I want her to know her roots.”
Steve was attentive to Michelle although unusually quiet around her family. He continued to be hesitant to hold Madison. Although he never refused when Michelle handed her to him, he didn’t initiate contact. Michelle and her mom did most of the care giving, which seemed pretty normal to her. But it surprised and hurt her a little when she noticed that even Tim acted more interested in holding Madison than Steve did.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The day after everyone left, Steve came home from work with Chinese food again. As they finished their dinner he said, “We need to talk, babe. I’ve got something to tell you.” He took her by the hand and led her to the couch where they sat down side by side.
Michelle’s heart was pounding in her chest. She searched his face for a clue — anything that would tell her that everything was okay. He looked nervous.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” he began.
“About?”
“About us. You and me and Madison.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “I need to know, Michelle.”
“Know what?” She began twisting a piece of hair at the nape of her neck, her heart pounding in her chest.
“If I’m Madison’s father.” Steve’s eyes pleaded with hers for understanding. He reached over and gently guided her hand away from her hair as he’d done so many times when she was upset or afraid.
She stiffened, and even though his touch was gentle, it caused her skin to crawl. How could he do this? Why couldn’t he just accept Madison as their daughter? She sat there staring at him, anger welling up inside. “Why does this have to be such a big deal to you? Can’t you just love her and trust God about the rest?” Her voice was laced with fear.
Steve cocked his head to one side and squinted his eyes, examining her face. Then he shook his head, as if he could not believe what he saw. He stood up and went to the window, gazing out to the street. “I should have known you’d never understand. It’s a whole different ball game for you. You know you’re her mom.”
“Look, Steve,” she said as she stood up, preparing to leave the room, “you knew from the start this was how it would be. We decided together to do the insemination. You were okay with it then. Now that we have our beautiful baby daughter, it’s suddenly not enough for you.” Her voice shook as she started toward the stairs.
“Michelle, don’t walk out of here. We need to finish this.” He reached out to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m trying. I want to love Madison like she was my own. I can’t explain why this is so important to me, but it is.”
Michelle could feel her heart racing. “What is it that you want?”
“I want to do a DNA test. I downloaded all the information from the internet today.”
“And what if the test says someone else is Madison’s biological father? Then are you going to leave us?”
“No. Nothing like that. You know I love you. I’d never leave you.” He pulled her into an embrace. “This is just something I have to do. If it turns out Maddie isn’t my child, I’ll figure out how I can come to terms with that. But I’ve got to do this test. Try to understand.”
Michelle pushed away from him. “I think you’re a fool to do this. You’re asking for trouble.”
“Maybe. But I need to know.”
Madison, who had dozed off in the swing, started to cry. Michelle went over to her and lifted her out, cuddling her to her chest. “Mommy’s here,” she said gently.
The DNA kit arrived in the mail on Saturday. The timing couldn’t have been better. Michelle was at the grocery store, and Madison was asleep in the cradle. Steve immediately opened the package and set about collecting the sample cells by rubbing a swab inside his own mouth and another one in Madison’s, careful to follow the directions for transferring them onto the enclosed slides.
Madison started to fuss, so he picked her up and put her into the swing, counting on its gentle motion to lull her back to sleep. Then he packaged the slides in the return mailer and put it into his briefcase. As soon as his wife got home, he’d take it to the post office and mail it.
An incredible sense of relief washed over him. He sat watching Madison swing back and forth, her eyes beginning to shut as she slipped off to sleep. A weight lifted from his shoulders, and he felt energized. He decided to straighten up the kitchen and do the dishes
to surprise Michelle.
As he worked, Max played with a toy mouse under the kitchen table, flipping it in the air and then pouncing on it. “You go, killer,” Steve teased.
By the time Michelle got home, the kitchen was spotless. He opened the door for her and took the bags out of her arms.
“Wow — the kitchen looks great. How’s Madison?” she asked, heading for the family room to check on her daughter.
“She woke up once, and I put her in the swing,” Steve replied, placing the groceries on the table.
As he began putting the food away, Michelle came back into the room. “She’s still asleep. Guess I’ll get the rest of the groceries.”
Steve grabbed her hand. “I’ll get them, babe. You can finish putting this stuff up.” A few minutes later, he left again, this time with the package for the lab in his hand. Michelle was about to nurse Madison, so he figured it was a good time to go to the post office.
While driving, he prayed. Lord, please guard this package. I need to know the truth. At the post office, he handed the mailer to the clerk and watched it drop into the big canvas bag behind her.
Joan sat on the porch swing, gazing out over the front lawn, deep in thought. Her heart was heavy for her granddaughter. Although she’d promised Michelle not to talk to Sheila about what was going on, she hadn’t said she wouldn’t discuss it with Phil.
“What’s got you so pensive today?” her husband asked as he joined her on the swing.
She took his hand in hers. How she loved this man. “It’s Michelle, Phil.”
“You seemed a little troubled after she called. Anything I can help with?”
She squeezed his hand. “I think I need to tell you so we can pray about it together.”
“Okay, sweetheart, I’m all ears.”
She began slowly; trying to give him all the details Michelle had shared with her. When she was finished, she slumped back into the swing and sighed.
Phil sat thoughtfully for a few moments. “The Lord has a plan in this, Jo. Let’s pray.”
She agreed, and they bowed their heads together, committing their granddaughter’s situation into the hands of their sovereign God.
While Michelle and Steve were lying in bed that night, he reached over and took her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and gently kissing it. “I did the DNA test today. We should get the results in a couple of weeks.”
“Okay.” Michelle felt like he had stabbed a knife in her heart.
“I love you,” Steve added softly.
“Yeah.”
CHAPTER FORTY
The next two weeks were filled with tension in the Baron household. Madison got a cold, and Michelle focused all of her energy on trying to keep little Maddie as comfortable as possible. Her relationship with Steve had deteriorated to a polite but distant aloofness. Although he tried to reach out to her with flowers, little treats from the local bakery, and the suggestion of a date night, she had erected a protective wall around her heart.
The envelope from the lab arrived on Friday.
She was sitting on the edge of the couch, her heart beating loudly as she looked down at it in her trembling hand. The return address looked harmless enough. Fairfield Lab, Portland, Oregon. But this envelope contained information that could change her life forever.
Madison whimpered from her cradle in the corner. “It’s okay, Maddie,” Michelle cooed as she gently stroked her daughter’s back.
Oh Lord, she sighed, once again gazing down at the unopened envelope. Help me. Help us accept whatever this says. Help Steve to learn to love Madison, no matter what.
The presence of God wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
I know the plans I have for you, plans for good and not for evil. Plans to give you hope and a future.
Taking a deep breath, she responded aloud, “Thank you, Lord.” Her quivering hands began to pull open the envelope. Then she stopped herself. I can’t do this on my own. I’ve got to call Steve first.
She set the envelope down and dialed Steve’s office. His secretary told her he was on another line and didn’t want to be interrupted. “Just tell him I called,” she said before hanging up.
She began pacing the floor, twisting her hair as she waited. Ten minutes later the phone rang. It was Steve. “Hi, babe.”
“Hi,” Michelle replied.
“It came.”
“What?”
“From the lab. I’ve got the letter here.” Her stomach was twisting into knots. She picked up the envelope, her hand trembling.
“Did you open it?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“Don’t. I need to talk to you first. I’m coming home.”
“Okay,” she replied.
After they hung up, she fingered the envelope, then set it down in her lap. She was sitting there praying when Steve arrived. He took it from her and placed it, unopened, on the table.
“Michelle,” he began, “your grandfather called me today.”
“What did he say? Is it about Dad? Is everyone okay?” Her mind raced with worry.
“Everyone’s fine.”
“Then what is it?” Michelle relaxed a little. “Why did he call?”
“He called because your grandmother told him what was going on with us.”
Feeling her defenses rising, she said, “I’m sorry, Steve, but I had to talk to someone.”
“It’s alright. I was upset at first, but then he started talking to me about everything.” Steve paused then continued, “Your grandfather has a lot of wisdom.”
“Yeah, he does. What did he say?” She sat back down on the rocking chair, and he sat nearby on the couch.
“He told me he’d been praying for me … for us … and that God gave him an illustration from scripture to share with me.” Looking at her earnestly, he continued. “Then he started talking to me about Jesus, and he reminded me that Joseph wasn’t Jesus biological father.”
“That’s right. I never really thought about that,” she replied.
“It made me realize that God wants me to be Madison’s father — that it doesn’t matter whether or not we are related by blood. God made this family. He gave me you as my wife and Madison as my daughter.”
Michelle studied his face. “Are you sure, Steve? This really changes how you feel about Madison?”
“It’s never been about Madison, honey. She’s a sweet baby. Who wouldn’t love her?”
“Then what is it? Were you afraid about Trevor? That he might be her biological father?”
“I’m sure that was a big part of it,” he said, looking at her squarely in the eyes. “I don’t like that guy, and I don’t like the way he’s tried to make himself such a close friend and confidante to you.”
“Steve, you’ve got to know I would never give up what we have – our life together—for any friendship with anyone. Including Trevor. As far as I’m concerned, he’s out of the picture. I told him that, myself.” Michelle hesitated, then continued, “So should we open it?” she asked as she handed him the envelope from the lab.
He took it from her and worked his thumb under the flap, peeling the envelope open. Sliding the paperwork out, his eyes skimmed for the results.
Michelle watched her husband’s face dissolve into tears of relief. “What? What does it say?”
He handed her the document.
“DNA from the two parties submitted match. Paternity is confirmed.”
As she read the results, she grinned broadly. “Steve — this is amazing! God truly gave us a miracle with little Maddie.”
He wrapped his arms around her crushing her to his chest, tears of joy mingling with their embrace.
The peace the Lord had given Michelle earlier that day washed over her again. God had performed two more miracles. Steve’s heart had softened. And the concerns about Trevor had been erased.
“Michelle — this means I’m Madison’s real father. I mean she’s really mine! In every way. Wait until your grandfather hears about this!”
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She beamed at him as she retrieved their baby from her cradle. “Want to hold your daughter?”
He reached out and took Madison into his arms. She nestled her tiny head into the base of his neck. “Come here,” Steve said to Michelle.
As she moved closer, he wrapped his free arm around her, and she encircled his waist in an embrace.
Max, who had been patiently waiting for someone to notice the toy mouse he had dropped at their feet, began to prance back and forth, rubbing up against their legs and crying for attention.
“Not now, Max,” Michelle said. She wanted to remember this moment forever. Resting against her husband’s chest, she could hear his heartbeat and the soft cooing of their baby girl.
Finally, they were a family. God had faithfully guided them through the tears and into a wonderful new chapter of their lives.
Author’s Note to Readers
Dear Readers,
When I began writing Through the Tears, it was to share the heartache many couples experience when their attempts to conceive a child fail. Many, if not most, married couples intend to eventually become parents. Sometimes that dream is threatened by infertility. I have experienced the disappointments and fears that accompany that process.
Conversely, there have always been women, single and married, who find themselves suddenly confronted by an unwanted pregnancy. They are often faced with decisions that reflect a desperation many of us will never experience.
Prior to Roe V. Wade, the needs of these two groups were often met by each other, and adoption was a blessed option for both. Since that landmark legal case was decided, the scales have tipped. Unwanted pregnancies, more often than not, are resolved in a doctor’s office or clinic rather than through an adoption agency or service.
As I researched the number of abortions performed annually, I came upon the following website:
Through the Tears (Sandy Cove Series Book 2) Page 28
