Hearts Communion

by Marianne Evans

  “He’s listening. But He’s causing you to grow as well. Growth spurts sometimes cause pain. Maybe He wants you to let go of all the bitterness, and He won’t leave the issue alone until you finally do.” Elise shrugged. “Collin, went through much the same thing after Lance’s murder, so I know the signs.”

  “It’s familiar, and comfortable in its way, even if it’s bad. Is that what you mean?”

  Elise chuckled wryly. “The devil you know versus embracing the unknown and all of that. Yes.”

  Monica tucked her fingers beneath Elise’s, and, for the first time ever, comfortably held on tight. “I don’t want devils. I want angels. I want Jeremy. I want hope, and a future.”

  Seeming bolstered by their moves forward as well, Elise took hold of both Monica’s hands now. She stopped walking, and looked hard into Monica’s eyes. “Then I’m going to speak to you like a daughter right now.” Her tone was strident. “Don’t fear the pathways God gives you. Even if they’re not what you might have expected, they’ll be full of blessings. And while you’re at it, give yourself some breathing room. Pain hits you. Accept it, roll with it, then move past it. When you’ve been hurting so badly for so long, your perspective can’t help but get skewed. Fight back. It seems to me you have more than enough spunk to accomplish that task.”

  Monica diverted her eyes and her focus; Elise’s words turned over and over in her mind. Walking just ahead of Jeremy’s mom, Monica picked up a pair of smooth black rocks and tossed them into the turbulent water. “I just don’t know where to take things from here. I need to make tough choices. Life-changing choices. I need to figure out whether or not I have the fortitude to move ahead with adoption, or if I can come to terms with the emotional turmoil involved with family, infertility, and the rollercoaster ride of the adoption process. If I don’t, I can’t lie, or hide from the fact that there’s part of me that feels like I should let Jeremy go. He deserves the chance to fall in love again, and have the family he’s always dreamed of.”

  Elise didn’t get overly sentimental or verbose. All she said in conclusion was: “I hear what you’re saying, and I understand. I just make three requests: First, pray. Pray for discernment—pray for an answer to the doubts you feel. Second, don’t underestimate my son.”

  Silence followed. Monica paused as they entered the bed and breakfast, its warmth a welcome relief from the elements. She turned to Elise. “What’s the third request?”

  Elise waited a strategic beat before answering. “Don’t underestimate yourself, either.”

  Hearts Communion

  20

  Sequins, beads and sparkles were everywhere. Nearly a hundred girls between the ages of four and twelve were gathered in the auditorium of Saint Clair Shores High School, dressed in ornate, colorful costumes, preparing for a dress rehearsal of the annual community center dance recital.

  Monica assembled her students into one big group and marked attendance for the session. After that, she gave each girl a typed rundown for their parents so they’d know the order they would dance in at tomorrow night’s program. Throughout the space, other dance teachers followed a similar routine.

  Noise reverberated off the walls, loud but somehow appealing. Oddly, the constant flood of conversation soothed Monica’s nerves and kept her from getting swept away by the tense excitement of the girls. Her youngest dancers, Jessica’s class, would be the first to go on stage, so she herded them to the wings to prepare them for a run-through.

  Petrified, Jessica clung to Monica’s hand as she led them to center stage. “Miss Monica, how will I know where to stand? Will you walk us on stage tomorrow?”

  “No, Jess. One of the older dancers will. I’ve assigned someone to lead you on stage. Don’t worry.”

  Monica made her way down the row of dancers and moved them into position for their song. Jessica looked up, seeming determined despite wide, searching eyes. “I’m not scared. Not even a little.”

  Before returning to the wings, Monica addressed her students. “I’ll be right over here, and you’ll be able to see me. I’ll prompt you along in case you forget a move.”

  Once the stage lights brightened, about half the girls forgot her instructions and watched overhead with fascination as the technician played with the dimmer, then practiced illuminating the girls with a spotlight.

  The music began, and despite the fact that activity in the auditorium came to a stop and everyone started watching them, Monica’s students were un-intimidated and performed their dance beautifully.

  Afterward, she looked on with a smile as Jessica ran to her mother.

  “Mommy! Did you see me? I did it! I did it!”

  Wanting to say hello to Caroline, Monica joined them. “Jessica has been so excited that you’re getting to see her dance. That’s all I’ve been hearing about at school lately.”

  Caroline gave her daughter a tight hug. “She did great, but I had the devil’s own time trying to get her hair into a bun.” She gave Monica a meaningful look then turned to Jessica, “Daddy’s going to be here tomorrow night, too, honey. He’s excited to see your performance.”

  That piece of news warmed Monica like a fireplace in wintertime.

  “He’ll like it, right, Mommy?”

  “Absolutely!” Caroline returned her attention to Monica. “You’ve been so busy! What an event!”

  “Actually, I’ve got a break for the next fifteen minutes or so while they stage and place a different class. After that, my second group of girls take the stage, and the frenetic pace picks up all over again. I love it, though.”

  Stage makeup, pink tutu, sequins and all, Jessica plopped herself onto her mom’s lap, still squirming and bubbling. “Isn’t Miss Monica the best teacher, mommy? I love ballet!”

  Monica smiled, savoring Jessica’s exuberance. “She’s a natural, Caroline. I’ll bet she inherited that natural grace of hers right from you.”

  A strange expression glanced Caroline’s features. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “I take it you’re not a dancer.”

  “Well…ah…” Caroline paused and gave Monica a peculiar look.

  Jessica, meanwhile, caught sight of one of her friends and dashed off. Monica watched as the two little ladies compared costumes and ballet slippers amidst chatter and giggles.

  “I guess I didn’t ever tell you,” Caroline said.

  “Tell me what?”

  “She’s adopted.”

  Monica’s breath grabbed, then exited her body in a soft huff of surprise. She hid that reaction well enough, but knew her eyes had gone wide. The revelation about Jessica’s adoption was nothing compared to the way this piece of news hit home with her spirit. Monica felt galvanized, compelled forward.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Caroline apologized.

  Monica hadn’t yet recovered from the surprise, but she managed to say, “There was really no need. I just assumed—”

  “That I’m her natural mother.” Caroline shifted a bit, watching after her daughter. Her adopted daughter. Monica didn’t merely imagine Caroline’s soft glow, her maternal—yes maternal—pride and connection toward the little girl. That instinct, that love, was real.

  This wasn’t the time or place, but there were thousands of questions Monica wanted to ask. Was the grueling process fair? Had the uncertainty worn her out? Had the bond between them been easy to forge? Difficult? How old had Jessica been at the time? An infant? Toddler? Had Caroline experienced that gut-wrenching fear about everything falling apart?

  Monica, you’ve used the word “afraid” so often during the course of this conversation. Let it go.

  Crystal clear, the memory of Ken’s gentle admonishment swept through Monica’s mind. And she obeyed his advice. Because ultimately, the only question that mattered had been answered from the start. Love, potent and unbreakable, had brought them together as a family. The love David Carter and Caroline Dempsey felt for their daughter had even helped make a bitter, contentious divorce more manageable
.

  Excited, determined, Monica considered everything Caroline had been through recently and realized her own fears and misconceptions about being denied a child, and about adoption in particular, weren’t nearly as frightening. Caroline had gone to the mat for her daughter; she had fought hard and faced overwhelming adversity. If Caroline could stand up to emotional challenges like that, then Monica felt certain she could give up her own doubts and look more seriously into the prospect of adoption. In affirmation, another memory played through her mind, Elise’s concluding bit of advice from when they walked along the lakeshore together:

  Pray for discernment—pray for an answer to the doubts you feel.

  Monica had. Fervently. Now, Elise’s words caused her to realize that getting God to answer a prayer wasn’t at all like pulling teeth. It was, instead, a soft, cooling breeze in the dead of a dry, arid summer.

  “This may sound crazy,” Caroline continued, “but when David and I started having problems a couple years ago, when he became so bitter and angry, I was half afraid the adoption agency would come back for Jessica and take her away—you know, like maybe we were no longer fit parents. Like we were unworthy.”

  Enrapt, Monica sank onto the velvet-padded theater seat next to Caroline.

  “They didn’t, of course, but subconsciously, the thought came to me, and rendered more than a few sleepless nights.”

  Her heart racing, her attention transfixed, Monica nodded. A craving to know more spurred her on. “I don’t blame you for your reaction, Caroline. It would have been mine as well. That must have been an awful time for you.”

  Caroline smiled, an innate gentleness riding along its surface. “It was, but I survived. And so did Jess. Blood ties are blood ties, no question, but Jessica couldn’t be more mine—or mean more to me—than if I had given birth to her myself. To be fair, I believe the same thing holds true for David. If not, he wouldn’t be so determined about her, and so emotional.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what made you decide to adopt?”

  Caroline settled back. “We had no luck trying to conceive on our own. We reached that point where we both had enough of the frustration, and decided to go through fertility testing.”

  A compatriot. Monica wasn’t alone. But in truth, hadn’t she known that from the very beginning? Between God’s love, and Jeremy’s presence how could she have ever doubted it? “Do you mind my asking? What did you find out?”

  “That the problem was with David.” Caroline sighed, and bowed her head. “To this day, I believe that’s what changed him. After he found out the test results, I think he started to feel like a failure. Like he was somehow inferior. All of a sudden, he’d go on these awful rampages. He’d blow up at me over the smallest, most inconsequential things. Adoption solved some of our problems, but David was never the same. I tried to stick it out, but our marriage became unlivable.”

  When you’ve been hurting so badly for so long, your perspective can’t help but get skewed.

  Elise’s words came back to Monica, hugely amplified. “I can understand that.”

  “Oh?” Caroline also seemed to realize she had come up against a soft spot.

  There wasn’t much time left for them to talk. Near the stage, Monica watched her older aged students begin to assemble. Several launched into practicing their arm lifts and plie’s. “There’s comfort in knowing you’ve been through upheaval and still kept fighting—not just for you, but for Jessica, too.” From there she gave Caroline a thumbnail sketch of her own history.

  “Monica, have faith. It’s worth it. Take the chance.”

  Monica watched Caroline in steady contemplation. The fact that Jessica was adopted shouldn’t have swayed her so strongly, but somehow it did. Jessica was a wonderful girl, a charmer whom Monica enjoyed teaching and watching over. Jessica proved that there was a lot to be said for adoption, and the emotional threads that ran through it like connecting fibers.

  “Thanks.” The current performance came from a group of tap dancers who wound down their number. Monica stood to leave so she could organize her next class. “I’ve got to go, but I’d love to talk more later, OK?”

  “Any time, Monica. You’ve been a God-send to me.”

  Just like that, with a soul given over to faith, and a heart given over to love, Monica made a resolution. If Caroline could do it, she could, too.

  ****

  When recital practice finished, she went home and retired promptly to the den. There, she booted up the computer and accessed the Internet. She remembered the name of the site Jeremy had scrawled on the top of his legal pad: Bethany Christian Services. Lots of bullet points had followed, so, Monica figured he had discovered a lot of information and seemed comfortable with the site, and its offerings.

  Her body went tense with anticipation; she scratched Toby behind the ears when he trotted into the room and sat primly next to her chair. “Lie down, Tobes,” she commanded, ruffling his fur one last time before turning away so she could focus, and jot down some notes of her own.

  When she was finished with her discovery session, she moused to the top of the web page, where a toggle directed, “Contact Us.”

  Monica bit her lip. Restlessly she moved her feet, which caused her leg warmer of a chocolate lab to stir and give a brief, soft whine. She clicked the icon and opened up a new window where she could request additional information. She made a couple of typos because her fingers trembled, but in the end, she sent the e-mail. This wasn’t a commitment, after all. This wasn’t promising anything to herself, or to Jeremy. This was nothing more than a simple information request.

  But that piece of logic didn’t quell the images that rolled through Monica’s mind. While the transmission zipped through cyber-space, she pictured herself and Jeremy, hand in hand with a dainty little girl, or a precocious little boy, swinging the youngster between them. She smelled autumn, and saw them all jumping into a pile of brightly colored leaves, savoring the family bond of a triple hug.

  God’s spirit moved through her heart, helping her inch her way forward into foreign, but beautiful terrain.

  Hearts Communion

  21

  Jeremy focused on the crowd that packed the auditorium. He barely registered the large and pressing body count before he felt a persistent tug on the bottom edge of his suit coat.

  “Hi, Mr. Edwards.”

  He had made his way about mid-way through the theater, searching for Monica, and nearly passed Jessica Carter without a second glance. Dressed in a costume of vibrant pink dotted by sequins, wearing stage-level rouge and lipstick, she was nearly unrecognizable.

  “Jessica! Hi!” He grinned, because with her hair slicked back into a glimmering bun, with her peaches-and-cream skin heightened by makeup, she looked just like a porcelain doll. “Wow, look at you. I like your costume.”

  “Thank you ve’y much.” Proudly she brushed at the layers of tulle that formed her tutu. Jessica turned to her mom who sat nearby. “Mommy, this is Mr. Edwards. He’s Miss Monica’s friend.”

  They shook hands and Caroline gave him a warm smile. “I remember seeing you briefly at the Community Center. It’s nice to meet you officially.” Jessica’s mother gestured toward a subdued man, dressed in a business suit, who sat next to her. “This is Jessica’s father, David.”

  Jeremy received a tentative nod, and a wavering smile from the man. “I’m glad to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Enjoy the show.”

  Space in the auditorium was literally standing room only for the recital, which made it hard for Jeremy to spot Monica in the sea of shifting faces. “She’s up front by the stage with the other teachers,” Caroline said, seeming to read his mind.

  “Thanks.” Before leaving though, he cast Caroline a warm glance, and received a friendly nod in return. He squatted, then, to be at eye level with Jessica. Affectionately, he tweaked her chin. “Good luck tonight. I can’t wait to see you dance.”

  She beamed. “OK. Bye!”

 
When he straightened, he spotted Monica. It never failed to astound him that just looking at her gave him a thrill.

  Three rows from the front of the stage, she shared a discussion with parents who sat in aisle seats. She leaned an ear toward them, and laughed. Even from a distance, her smile captivated him. In keeping with this dressed-up event, she wore a knit dress of pale pink that rippled around her legs.

  Jeremy moved forward but waited until she was finished talking before gaining her attention. When she turned away from the parents, she caught sight of him immediately. Her smile, intimate and loving, dawned instantly. It made his pulse race.

  “Hey!” She stepped into his offered hug. “So what do you think of this chaos?”

  “It’s…chaos. Seems fun, though.” He touched her flush-warmed cheek. “And you’re in your glory.”

  “Well, this glory-girl is on her way to the maintenance office. I’ve got to see if there are any chairs we can use to set up additional seating in the back.”

  Jeremy scanned the tight press of bodies. “Is it always this crowded?”

  “I’ve been doing this for five years, and it gets bigger every time.” She gave him a rueful look. “Who knows what we’ll do next year. We’ve basically outgrown this space.”

  He followed her to a set of doors that opened to a school hallway. Dance students gathered there as well as in the auditorium. Excited talk and laughter filled the air, and several girls greeted Monica with happy exclamations.

  At the maintenance office door, Monica knocked. A uniformed janitor answered and listened while Monica explained the seating shortage.