by Jill Kemerer
“I want a doughnut!” Macy’s eyes widened.
“Well, then, you’ll have to behave.”
A moment passed before Macy sighed. “Yes, Mommy.”
Stephanie reached for her hand again. They hustled toward the big barn converted to a country store. Macy oohed over an orange cat running by, and Stephanie craned her neck to see through the clusters of people. Tom’s tall, athletic frame rounded the corner, and her pulse thumped, then sped up. His easy smile? Just like when they first met. In a navy blue pullover and jeans, he attracted several female stares, yet he appeared oblivious to the admiration. She tightened her hold around Macy’s hand.
“Ouch, Mommy.”
“Sorry.” All worked up over six feet of strapping male. And why not? They’d been good together, once upon a time.
He squatted in front of Macy, grinned and held out his hand. “I believe we met already, Miss Macy. How are you doing today? Are you ready to pick out a pumpkin?”
Macy hesitated, but she eventually shook his hand, her eyes stony.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like pumpkins?” He righted himself to a standing position.
Stephanie nudged her.
“They’re all right.” Macy sounded as enthused as she did when she had to get a booster shot.
“Thanks for meeting us here, Tom.” Stephanie plastered her widest smile on. “Why don’t we mosey out to the field? Which patch is the best, do you think?”
With questions in his eyes, he glanced at Macy, who was now picking at her sling. “Looks like a lot of people are headed that way.” He pointed to a lane where kids ran ahead, moms pushed strollers and dads toted young boys or girls on their shoulders.
“Do you want a ride, Macy?” He tapped his shoulders.
She shook her head, pigtails slapping the sides of her face.
“Okay.” He frowned.
Stephanie considered pulling him aside to explain, but what could she say? Macy isn’t really a brat. She’s acting like one because she doesn’t want to share me. Yeah, that would sound great. Stephanie did the best she could as a single mom, and sometimes it wasn’t good enough. When she’d lived with Dad, it hadn’t been as bad. He played with Macy while Stephanie tackled a term paper. He soothed the tension when her patience vanished.
She peeked at her daughter, clutching her hand. How would Tom fall in love with Macy if she acted like a sullen statue?
They made their way to the lane. Ducks flew overhead in a V formation, and a line of trees swished in the light wind.
“So what have you been up to?” Stephanie forced a cheery tone. “How is your family?”
His sharp glance ratcheted her nerves. “They’re good. Claire got married this summer, Libby earlier this year. Bryan and I run all the dealerships, and we share a house. Sam took over as CEO of Sheffield Auto last fall.”
“Your dad retired?”
“Yes and no.” He chuckled. “He retired from the auto business to be a superintendent for my brother-in-law. Dad is in construction now.”
“I always liked Dale.” She stepped over a tree root bumping out of the ground. “I could see him in construction. He’s got a lot of energy.”
“When my grandpa retired, he had a big party. He has lots of energy, too,” Macy said with a shade of snottiness.
“Good.” Tom nodded. “I’m sure he enjoyed his party.”
“He did. We got him floaty balloons and everything.” She picked up her pace, shoulders wiggling with her determined stride.
“I miss my grandpa. He taught me how to tie ropes and build birdhouses. We went out on his fishing boat all summer. I wish he was still around.”
“Where did he go?” For the first time since arriving, her voice wasn’t dripping with attitude.
“Heaven. He died a while back.”
“I’m going to heaven, too.” She jabbed her chest with her thumb. “My Sunday school teacher told me so.”
Tom grinned down at her. The most patient, loving expression crossed his face. Stephanie almost gasped. Loving, yes. But patient? She sifted through her memories. He’d always been quick with a reply. Time must have mellowed him. But maybe that wasn’t fair on her part. Could she say she truly knew him when they were only together a year?
He tugged one of Macy’s pigtails. “Well, you keep listening to your Sunday school teacher.”
“Mommy’s going to heaven. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. And Tom is, also.”
“No, he’s not.” Macy shook her head and laughed.
“Macy, that’s a very mean thing to say.” Stephanie halted.
“But—”
“No buts. All believers go to heaven. You know that.”
“You mean I have to share you there, too?” she wailed. “I don’t want to go anymore.”
Stephanie dreaded looking at Tom, but she had to. His curious expression reassured her. “Will you excuse us a minute, please?”
He nodded.
She marched Macy to the side of the lane and kept her voice low. “Why did you say that, Macy? Do you know you hurt his feelings?”
“I don’t care.” Her cheeks drooped. “Heaven isn’t for him. It’s for us. It’s our girl place.”
“It’s not our girl place. We will be together, but everyone else who trusted in God will, too. You wouldn’t want to leave anyone out of heaven, would you?”
Macy bowed her head and dragged her tennis shoe back and forth in the dirt.
“Answer me, Macy.”
“I want to go home.”
Clenching her hands into fists, Stephanie waited until her nerves calmed before answering. “Fine. I’ll take you home. I’ll call the sitter. You can stay there, but I’m coming back to pick out pumpkins with Tom.”
That got her attention. Macy wrapped her arms around Stephanie’s legs. “No! I want to stay. He can go to heaven, too.”
“It’s not your decision if he goes to heaven or not. You owe him an apology.”
“But, Mama—”
“No buts.” Stephanie led Macy back to the lane. “Macy has something to say to you. Don’t you?”
“I’m sorry.” The muffled words barely were out before she started sobbing.
Stephanie wrapped her in a hug and kissed her head. “I know apologizing was hard, but you did the right thing.”
Macy pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Do I still get a doughnut?”
“It depends.” Stephanie darted a glance Tom’s way and mouthed, “Sorry.” Then she moved forward. “Let’s try over there. I see a big pumpkin with your name all over it.”
Chapter Four
Thankfully, her lunch break had finally arrived. The phones had been ringing nonstop all morning, and if Stephanie had to argue with one more insurance rep about covering a porcelain filling, she was going to rip the phone out of the wall. There wasn’t enough chocolate in the world for Mondays like this.
Bea, the other receptionist at the dentist office, had invited her to eat at their favorite deli. As they crossed the parking lot to get into Bea’s sporty black car, Bea chatted about her upcoming vacation plans.
“You sure have been quiet. Are you feeling okay?” Bea asked. Her chic white bob and subtle makeup matched her warm, intelligent personality. Stephanie considered her more of a worldly-wise aunt than a coworker.
“I’m fine. A little stressed.” As the car merged with traffic, Stephanie relaxed into the seat. At least the sun was shining. The day wasn’t completely bad. “Every time I answer the phone it’s a crisis.”
“Tell me about it.” She chuckled and peeked over. “A little green is peeking out from your bruise again. Remind me to touch it up with my concealer stick when we return.” She braked for a traffic light. “What are you going to do about your car?”
“Insurance is supposed to cut me a check this week. My old one wasn’t worth much, so I’ll have to find a used car in a limited price range.” Another to-do on an already crowded list. If only Dad was here. He’d help her pick out a vehicle. He’d check it over and tell her if it had major problems. She missed him. Missed having someone to rely on.
“How’s Macy doing?”
“Her wrist hurts, but she’s convinced she doesn’t need the sling. You know how kids are.” They sped past apartment buildings, fast-food joints, the pharmacy and a grocery store before coming to a stop at the bustling sandwich shop.
Since moving to Kalamazoo, Stephanie hadn’t told anyone about Tom, but she longed to confide in someone. And she appreciated Bea’s faith-filled perspective, something Dad lacked. She’d tried to get him to attend church with her, but he’d never been interested. Moving here and meeting Bea had given her a Christian shoulder to cry on, not that she did very often. But now she needed help—emotional and advice-wise.
After ordering subs and sodas, they found a table in the corner next to a window. Bea opened her sandwich to look it over before taking a bite, but Stephanie left hers wrapped next to her.
“I have to tell you something, and I’m really nervous about it.” Stephanie folded her hands, clutching them tightly. Questions swirled in Bea’s hazel eyes. “I think we’re good enough friends that you won’t hold this against me, but if you don’t want to talk to me after this, I understand.”
“We’re not in high school.” Bea flung a stray onion off her cheese, closed the bun and bit into it. “Nothing you could say would kill our friendship. I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”
Nothing like this. Stephanie drew her shoulders back. “I used to be married. Five years ago, to be exact. The whole romance whizzed by quicker than a Michigan spring. Within six months of saying ‘I do,’ we split up. During the divorce, I found out I was pregnant, but the way things ended... I didn’t think he’d ever want to see me again.”
Bea’s sandwich hovered next to her mouth. Stephanie didn’t know what to say. Then Bea blinked and made a rolling gesture with her arm. “Well, go on.”
Her teeth chattered. “Everything fell apart that year. I dropped out of school before the wedding. My college friends—the same ones I’d had all through high school—wanted me to hang out and party with them. Tom was working his way up at his dad’s company and had no time for me. I spent more and more evenings with my friends and their friends, and one friend in particular. He listened. Looked at me like I was somebody. Made me feel less lonely. We started meeting on our own. I justified it, telling myself Tom wasn’t paying attention to me, that it didn’t hurt anyone because we were just talking. But Tom drove into the city one day, and he saw us holding hands.”
Bea set her food on the table and leaned forward.
“He confronted me that night, and I finally, finally told him about Aaron. And I felt like nothing. Less than nothing. The truth slapped me in the face. I was indulging in an emotional affair. Tom and I got into a terrible fight. I packed a suitcase and drove to my dad’s. When I called him a few days later, I suggested counseling, but he refused and had divorce papers drawn up the next week.”
“And then you found out about Macy?”
Stephanie nodded. “I never told him about her.”
“Because you thought Tom hated you and never wanted to see you again,” Bea said. “You probably hated yourself a little, too, didn’t you?”
Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I did.”
“Honey, I know you.” Bea covered Stephanie’s hand with her own. “I see how devoted you are to Macy. Are you thinking about telling him now? Did the accident shake you up?”
The accident had shaken her up, all right. “He already knows.”
“What? I’m confused. How?”
“I drove to his house last week and spilled everything.”
Bea’s eyebrows shot up.
“I couldn’t live with the guilt another minute. And my conscience has been churning overtime. I can’t explain it. When I go to church, I feel blessed and convicted at the same time.”
“Consciences have a way of doing that. Didn’t you say you’re a relatively new believer?”
“Yeah.” Stephanie peered at the ceiling a moment. “It’s been about two years, I guess. When Macy was a toddler, she got sick. Really sick. With scarlet fever. As her temperature rose, a rash appeared. She just sat there, listless. It scared me. I thought of Tom’s family, how church seemed to sustain them, how they talked about God like He was a real father.”
“That’s right,” Bea murmured.
Stephanie attempted a smile. “I prayed. Day and night, I prayed. I gave my problems to God. It was the first time I felt peace, real peace, you know. The second round of antibiotics cured Macy. Going to church strengthened my faith, and I knew I should tell Tom, but I didn’t have the courage. He’d flat out told me he was glad we never had kids. I worried if I told him, he’d reject her because of me. The guilt grew and grew.”
“Guilt’s like a virus, spreading unless we tame it.”
Stephanie sniffed. “Anyway, the accident woke me up. Macy has been asking—she deserves to know who her father is. And Tom should have been told from day one. What if something happens to me? Dad won’t live forever.”
“How did—Tom, is it?—take the news?”
Stephanie traced the rim of her soda. “Surprisingly well. He actually acts thrilled to be a dad. He probably won’t ever forgive me, not that I blame him, but he embraced the idea of having a child.”
“Given what happened with what’s-his-name, did he question if she’s his?”
“Oh, yeah, but Macy is Tom’s mirror image. All I had to do was show him a picture. No question.”
“So what are you two going to do now?”
“I asked him to ease her into it. She thinks he’s an old friend.”
“Good.” Bea nodded. “So he seems interested, like he wants to be part of her life. That’s encouraging.”
“Looks that way.” She unwrapped her sub, although her stomach dry-heaved at the thought of eating. If she didn’t, she’d never make it through class this afternoon.
“So what happened to the other guy?”
Stephanie lifted one shoulder. “I truly loved Tom. When it came down to it, Aaron lacked integrity. And so did I.”
“You’re a good mom, Stephanie. You should be proud of yourself.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you. I...I might be a better person now, but I still have to pay.”
“I don’t know about that.” Bea lifted her sandwich again. “I’d say you already paid a high price for your past. If Tom is willing to be a father for Macy, you’d be smart to let him. Every girl needs a daddy.”
“I know, I know. I’m just scared. I’ve had her all to myself. Now I have to share her? What if he sues for custody?”
Bea leveled a firm stare her way. “Then you’d be smart to make this as easy as possible for him. Accommodate him. Be the person you wanted to be when you were married. Show him you’ve changed—if you don’t...”
Stephanie crinkled her nose. “What?”
“Well, a father who resents his child’s mother isn’t ideal.”
Stephanie hadn’t thought of that. She’d assumed... What had she assumed? Tom would take the high road? When she’d taken the low road? Would he want revenge? No, he’d never poison their daughter’s thoughts against her. Not Tom.
She pushed her hair from her face, wincing as her thumb touched her bruised cheek.
“You okay?” Bea asked. “It’s a lot to think about, but don’t get tempted to go down the worst-scenario road. Handle this maturely, and the outcome will be good, not bad.”
“Mature?” She almost choked. “I’m trying. I don’t know if I can handle this.”
“You can call me anytime. And keep praying,” Bea said. “Maybe God has something wonderful planned with all this.”
Something wonderful? Those kinds of things happened to people who didn’t lie and hurt others. Which left her out. No matter how much she tried to make up for the past, she couldn’t.
“Have you forgiven yourself?”
Stephanie snorted. “Forgive myself? My mistakes are too high to even dent. I try to forget about everything I did before God got through to me, but forgive? No.”
“God forgave you. Shouldn’t you do the same?”
“I’ll add it to my to-do list.”
Bea laughed. “Be sure to check it off when you get to it.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you for listening and not judging. I don’t blame you if—”
“Stop right there. I love you. End of story.”
“I don’t deserve—”
Bea made a tut-tut noise. “End of story.”
* * *
“And the rooster says, ‘cock-a-doodle-doo,’ and the ducky says, ‘quack quack quack,’ and the piggy says, ‘oink oink oink’...”
She didn’t have time for this. Stephanie stabbed the calculator buttons Thursday night, but the sum flashing back at her didn’t make sense. Her pencil rolled off the stack of papers to the floor. She had to finish this report. If only she could have some peace, but there wasn’t a chance of that happening.
What time was it anyway? Tom would be there soon, which meant she’d have to entertain him. Tonight was their first meeting since the pumpkin patch last weekend, and Macy hadn’t quite warmed up to him then. Stephanie had a feeling they were in for an awkward hour, an hour she’d have to bring her A game to in order to get the two of them used to each other. Was a headache coming on? Yes. Yes, it was.
“...and the dalmatian says, ‘woofy woofy,’ and the goosey says, ‘honk honk’...” The song grew louder as Macy added more words and ran back and forth from the couch to the rocking chair, crashing into the cushions with each new verse.
