by Janet Spaeth
“She worked with babies.” Todd had joined them, and Ric watched with a smile as she wiped a smudge of dirt from his forehead.
“Really?” Ric asked. “What kind of work did you do at this place?”
“It was a child-care program for single parents. I’m a single parent myself, so I was especially committed to seeing it succeed.”
“Sounds interesting. How did it work?”
“It was actually two programs that dovetailed. One was supplying day care for single parents who were being trained for careers, and the other was training people to be nannies and day care providers. So one program served the other.”
Did he hear a slight break in her voice? Perhaps he’d imagined it because she looked at him and smiled. “It’s a lifesaver for many women who otherwise would be stuck in a life of welfare.”
In the back of his mind a plan started to grow. Maybe—
“What a great idea!” he said as he started to dream of the possibilities. “Well, we’ll get you back to them nice and relaxed, ready to face a whole new group of people who need your help.”
“We’re not going back,” Todd interjected. “We don’t know where we’re going. Maybe Gran’s. Mom doesn’t have a job anymore. We’re almost poor.”
“Is that true?” Perhaps this was what was weighing on her heart.
She looked trapped, and he quickly added, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But if you need some help, that’s what we’re here for. Shiloh Family Camp is a place for families to relax in a supportive Christian environment, and that means unsnarling the snarls that occur in any family’s life.”
Lily laughed. “You sound like the brochure.”
He grinned a bit sheepishly. “I wrote it.”
He could hear children laughing on the playground, and below the sound, the steady murmur of adult voices. He loved his time at Shiloh. It was a stress reliever for him, too.
“People come here for many reasons,” he continued. “We don’t ask that you reveal any more than you feel is necessary, but I do want you to know that we are here if at any time your burden becomes too great, and you want a friendly ear to listen, a friendly shoulder to cry on, or a friendly spirit to pray with you. Take it at your own pace.”
Before she could respond, he knelt beside Todd. “I’d better go make sure we have enough purple to finish Mrs. Noah tomorrow, and I’m on cleanup duty, too. See you both tomorrow, I hope.” He ruffled Todd’s reddish gold hair and straightened up. “Don’t forget there’s a trail ride after church. And then the rodeo!”
Did he actually hear her groan?
“Todd, hurry up.” She knelt to tie his shoes and winced. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that wasn’t protesting loudly. No way was she going on a trail ride after church. Just the thought of getting onto the horse’s back made her cringe.
She’d rather spend the day resting in the sunshine with a book and a glass of lemonade, like any sane woman.
“Church is going to start soon, buddy. Let’s get going.”
As they followed the path to the chapel, Todd sang a song. “God is my friend, I’m God’s friend, you’re God’s friend. God likes dogs, God likes cats, God likes hamsters. God made potatoes, God made carrots, God made pudding.”
“That’s an interesting song,” she said at last.
“Yes,” he told her proudly. “I wrote it myself.”
“Ah. It’s lovely.”
“Thank you.” He continued, “God loves purple, God loves red, God loves blue. God can hear, God can see, God can talk.”
He stopped so suddenly that she almost fell over him. “He can, right? He can talk?”
“Sure He can. We just have to listen. Now, let’s go into church and see if we can hear Him.”
The chapel was almost full, and they took the last seats available. She felt herself relax as the service began with the call to worship.
Her priority now was getting back in tune with what was real and eternal in life and reaffirming her priorities. She had it all figured out: God would do it. He could fix anything. She needed to focus on Todd.
Todd, like any five-year-old, had a mixed view of church services. He was enthusiastic the first five minutes, and then his interest waned as his attention span faltered.
Lily pulled the illustrated children’s Bible from the bag she always carried to church. Experience told her this would occupy him for another five minutes or, if she were lucky, ten.
Pastor Jack asked them to join him in silent prayer.
And that was when the meeting of woman and Lord became unavoidable.
She started to pray but found instead that she was listening as her soul poured itself out.
It wasn’t fair that Douglas Newton had managed to get into her life—just as she was straightening it out—and once again destroy it.
She’d loved her job, and she’d taken great satisfaction from knowing she was helping others in a situation like she’d been in herself. She’d tried to see it with his rationalizing explanation, but no matter how she’d turned and twisted it, what he had done—using the Nanny Group as his personal babysitting service—was wrong.
What scared her the most was the look he had given her when she quit. She had never seen anything quite so cold—and so menacing—in her life.
He scared her. There was something about him that made her wary, that set every cell in her body on edge.
He had revealed himself to be ruthless, as if he would let nothing get in the way of what he wanted. She’d seen the way he’d treated anyone he considered to be beneath him.
His impatience was legendary among service staff. She’d seen it herself, and what she hadn’t seen, she’d heard about. Waitresses at the high-priced restaurant where he enjoyed lunches dreaded having him sit at one of their assigned tables. If he considered anything on his plate not up to the quality he expected, he created a scene that often ended with the server being fired or quitting.
They’d had a secretary at the Nanny Group for a while—actually, they’d had several secretaries—but he’d demanded so much of them that they usually quit within a day or two. The employment service they’d tried had finally quit sending applicants over.
Even the old woman who had cleaned the office at the Nanny Group had met with his wrath. When he’d deemed that the poor woman, her back twisted with arthritis, hadn’t cleaned under his desk well enough, he’d thrown a pencil at her and dumped a potted plant onto the floor and told her to clean the soil and shattered crockery from the carpet. When she had finished, he fired her.
She had seen enough to make her very careful around him, but when she became the focus of his anger, she’d taken special care. Not only did she have to worry about herself and her job, but she had a little boy that God had entrusted her with, and she would walk over hot coals, crawl through broken glass, whatever it took, to keep him safe.
Maybe she was being melodramatic, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Douglas Newton would do whatever it took to keep her quiet about what she knew.
Why had God sent this wretched person into her life? How many trials and tribulations must she endure—must Todd endure, too?
First, the loss of her husband after only three weeks of marriage, a victim of a drunk driver, had nearly destroyed her. The total emptiness and the eerie sensation of being adrift, like a boat that had escaped its mooring, had haunted those first blind days of grief.
Then she discovered she was pregnant. That little life inside her had saved her, and now Todd was everything to her.
“Amen.”
She raised her head as Pastor Jack pronounced an end to prayer. Guiltily she realized that she hadn’t even prayed. She’d relived her problems again, without getting one step closer to a solution.
Maybe there wasn’t a solution. Maybe God—
A sharp elbow in her ribs brought her back to the present. “Mom! Get up!” Todd whispered loudly.
People were standing again, singing
a familiar old hymn, “Rock of Ages.” As she sang, she paid attention to the words of the opening verse. If only she could hide in the Rock.
Pastor Jack’s sermon was brief, about the partnership God offers His creation. He encouraged those attending to be an active partner, not a silent partner, in their relationship with the Lord.
Prayer, he said, was the most effective and dynamic when you offered yourself as a participant.
The service ended with a brief moment of silence. Here was her time to redeem herself, to pray honestly.
God, guide me. Please, I need a little help here. And then, although she’d been trained not to do this, not to tell God what to do, Lily couldn’t resist adding, You used to send angels as your messengers. Send me a sign. It doesn’t have to be an angel, but I would like a sign. Please, God, I need some help.
“God answers prayers.” Her head spun around as Ric spoke beside her.
Her confusion must have shown on her face because he laughed easily. “I prayed that I’d get a chance to talk to you this morning. Do you have a minute?”
Before she could answer, he continued. “Here’s the deal. If you really are looking for a job, I have one that needs you as badly as you need it. Want to help me set up an emergency day care in a flooded community?”
Lily could only stand there, astonished. Todd tugged on the hem of her shirt, but she ignored him.
Well, it was true that God answers prayers. But somehow she’d never thought a response would be this quick or that her angel would be wearing a neon green T-shirt that read SHILOH FAMILY CAMP, WHERE PLAYING AND PRAYING MEET.
“I can’t go.” The sunshine glinted in Lily’s eyes as they walked toward the playground area where Todd could play while she and Ric talked.
Ric tilted his head and studied her for a moment before saying, “You don’t have to commit now. You can think about it.”
“I have thought about it.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew they weren’t true. Her response had been automatic.
Ric didn’t respond. He simply continued to walk until he came to the swing set. He caught one of the rope-and-metal swings and sat down on it.
He began to swing silently, first slowly and then with continuing speed. She could feel herself frowning against the sunshine as she watched him progress higher and higher into the sky while she stood to the side, one hand lightly touching the frame of the swing set.
It seemed like a metaphor to her. Somehow she had to make sense of it all, bring it into focus.
She felt the need to speak. “I can’t do something like that. I have Todd. I can’t just pick up and go.”
Her son tugged at her sleeve. “Where, Mom? Where?”
“Where what?” she asked almost absentmindedly as she ruffled his reddish gold hair. “You’re supposed to be playing.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re not going anywhere, honey.”
“But I just heard Ric say—”
“Todd, we can’t just pick up and move.”
“Are we going to live with Gran then?”
The reminder of her situation rose in Lily’s mind like a gigantic monolith, unavoidable now. Where were they going, anyway? She loved her mother, but she couldn’t stay with her.
“No, no, Todd. We’re not going to live with Gran.” She knew anxiety had crept into her voice, but she couldn’t keep it away.
“Then where are we going to live?” Todd insisted.
“Somewhere, sweetheart, somewhere. I just don’t know where.” Inside her chest the claw of tension tightened.
Ric spoke quietly. “Think about this job. These people could use you and your skills. Right now they have nothing. And what you have—knowledge, caring, and time to work—will help them more than you could ever know.” He smiled at Todd. “Disasters are bad enough, but they shouldn’t happen to children.”
“Are we going to live in a tent?” Todd asked. “We don’t have a tent, do we, Mom? If we don’t live with Gran, then where are we going? Are we going back to Chicago? I thought you said—”
“That’s enough, Todd.” Her words shot out like bullets, and she instantly regretted her tone. She knelt beside him and ran her finger down the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to be okay. You know that.”
She sensed him closing up. Suddenly everything in her melted, and she clutched him to her in a near-desperate hug. “Honey, please don’t worry. Leave that to me.”
Something inside her began to move, like a glacier edging its way onward. But as quickly as it began, it stopped. She wasn’t ready.
“We could go where Ric says.” Todd’s voice was muffled against her shoulder.
The block of ice jolted away from her heart a bit, just enough for the pain to penetrate briefly. He was so little, so defenseless against a world that had been totally unfair.
“I will take care of both of us,” she promised him softly in his ear. “God will be with us, like He always has been. He will not leave us.”
“I want to go home.” Her son’s words were so quiet that she wasn’t sure he’d spoken at all until she felt the tears moistening her blouse. “I want to go home, but I don’t know where that is anymore.”
The glacier lurched inside her, nearly ripping her heart from its moorings.
She looked up at Ric. “Let’s talk about that job.”
Chapter 2
Ric pulled a map from a manila envelope and pushed it across the table. The dining hall was deserted while the children were on a nature hike and the parents were swimming.
Lily looked where his finger pointed. “That’s Wildwood,” he said to her. “It’s a lovely little town—at least it was until the Rock River left its boundaries and affected 98 percent of the town. Houses, businesses, schools—you name it—they’re gone or at least damaged.”
On the map, roads and highways intersected in red and black lines. An occasional blue squiggle indicated a river, and it was to one of these that he was drawing her attention.
It looked so innocuous, this unassuming curve of blue that wound past the dot marked WILDWOOD.
“What happened?”
“There was more snow than usual this year. This part of the state is very flat, and the snowmelt had nowhere to go except to the river. That’s a lot of water, more than the river could hold within its banks.”
“So one day the water just came up?” She’d heard about it on the news, how all the smaller tributaries had flooded, too, but because it had been at the same time as the situation at the Nanny Group was coming to a head, she’d let it slip past her.
“Along the river’s edge, roads were washed out, and basements took water. Many highways between towns were closed, and the county roads began to go under until many farmsteads and smaller towns were isolated. Then one day in Wildwood, the lift stations failed, and the street sewers couldn’t function any longer, and that was all it took. Wildwood flooded.”
“With all that damage, wouldn’t it be better to just abandon this place? Let the river say it won?”
He shook his head. “And where would they go?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere. Anywhere.”
“That’s just it. There isn’t any place for them to go. They can’t just pick up and leave everything and make their town reappear magically in another location.”
“I understand that. But doesn’t it come to a point where you say, ‘That’s it. This and no more’?”
“Possibly. But not in this case. The flooding didn’t take out the town, just inundated it. Most houses are structurally all right but need some internal help. Basements need to be fixed up. People need furniture. Clothing. Help reorganizing their lives. How can I explain to you how damaged they are—not only their homes but their emotional and spiritual selves?”
He reached inside the manila envelope and pulled out a handful of photographs. With one quick motion, he spread them across the tabletop.
She couldn’t lift her eyes from the tableau he ha
d laid in front of her.
The houses were clean, and the lawns were evenly green. Overhead a lapis blue sky sparkled. But along the streets were piles of rubble. Bits of drywall. Furniture soaked and stained. Clothing that was nearly unrecognizable after two weeks of being submerged in floodwaters.
“And this doesn’t even begin to capture the smell,” he added.
She stroked one photograph that particularly caught her attention: a once-pink bear, now darkened to a patchy gray, perched in a discarded child’s rocking chair. One runner was missing from the chair, and it balanced precariously atop the heap.
“Our job,” Ric said, “is helping them clean and repair so they can get on with the business of living.”
“Sure. This is all just stuff anyway.”
She felt Ric stir uneasily. “ ‘Stuff’? I don’t know if I agree with that. What went with the river was often priceless, unless the family was able to salvage it, which is unlikely. Family photographs. Baby pictures. Scrapbooks. The things that can’t be replaced at any cost.”
The back of her throat felt dry. Papery. Her stomach twisted. Lily turned back to the photographs and the graphic display of devastation that was scattered in front of her.
She studied the single photograph that had held her attention. Inside her chest, a small invisible hand clutched her heart.
She realized why the picture took her by emotional storm. This could be Todd’s bear. Only the color was different. His was brown, a rich chestnut brown. She’d bought it two years before as part of a department store promotion. It had originally sported a red plaid bow and a tiny green vest, but those had disappeared within days.
Nevertheless, the bear stayed with him. It was in their cabin at Shiloh now.
And there was more beyond the bear. The owner could have been Todd. And certainly the loss was physically a teddy bear and a rocking chair, but how much more had been taken by the river?
“It’s going to be difficult,” Ric said, interrupting her thoughts. “These folks have been through a lot, and their stories will tear your heart out.”
“I’m tough.” No you’re not, the silent voice inside her soul answered. You are ready to fall apart. You are in absolutely no condition to go into a place that is as hurt as this place, where people are struggling with despair, when your own battles are not fought and certainly not won.
