“You look…unsettled, my dear. Are you happy? You know I will do anything in my power to see that you are happy.”
“I am happy, Hudson.”
“I only want what’s best for you. You’ll call me if you need anything?”
She took his arm and led him out of the yard to his car. “I know. I will. And thank you for coming by.”
* * *
Six weeks later, Pru brought the children and Portia. Amalia dreaded her visit more than hosting strangers. Merit had seemed to reconcile his deepest fear, and Amalia hoped Pru would not serve as a reminder. Amalia also hoped her sister-in-law’s sharp eyes would not ferret out news Amalia had recently suspected, a month after they buried Tom.
Merit grilled chicken in the backyard with the help of Lawrence, and she had been in the kitchen picking up clean tongs when the bell sounded. Amalia went to answer it.
“Coming!” She clattered in her floppy sandals through the house to the front door. “Hi, can I…?” The curly-headed young man waiting in profile with head slightly bent reminded her of Merit. When she saw his face, she knew. If the house swallowed her whole right this second, she wouldn’t have been surprised. “You must be Justice.”
The young man cocked his head and met her stare. “You must be Amalia.”
With more calm than she knew she possessed, she opened the door. “Please, come in. Prudence is here, too.”
The man nodded. He cast a longing look up the staircase as he accompanied her to the backyard. She prayed every step of the way. “Merit, Pru…” Amalia stepped aside.
Pru gasped, while Merit went still, knuckles white where he clutched the fork.
She got up from her chair. “Justice?”
Justice’s voice rasped. “I heard about Tom.”
Prudence approached her youngest brother as if he would vanish any second and put her arms around him. He let his head fall to her shoulder and wept. Amalia watched Merit set the fork down and join them. Lawrence put his sticky hand in hers. Tricia watched the whole scene, agape. Amalia stood back, feeling like the lifeboat on a cruise ship—necessary only in an emergency.
Later, when the chicken breasts were too charred to eat and the mosquitoes drove them inside, they sprawled in the living room, talking.
Tricia edged closer to Justice, inching nearer every few minutes. Finally she stood in front of his knee. “Are you my uncle?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know you.”
“I know you,” he replied, with a friendly smile. “When you were a baby, I lived with your mom, who is my sister.”
“Did you run away?”
“Tricia, that’s a personal question,” Prudence admonished her daughter.
Justice cleared his throat. “That’s all right, Pru. We’ve skirted around this enough.” He looked his niece in the eye. “I did something bad. Then I made it worse by running away. Even though your dad told me that God would forgive me, I was too ashamed to ask him for help.”
“You were stupid.”
“Tricia…” Prudence growled.
With a ghost of a smile, he said, “Yes, stupid. But you know what? There’s a little girl almost as big as you waiting for me. My own daughter. Your cousin. I’m through being stupid and too proud to ask for help.” He looked away from Tricia to Pru and Merit. “I want to be a father to my child. I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking now if, after we get to know each other, you’ll support me.”
Amalia sat back, watching the interaction, praying silently while she learned to like the young man’s candor. Amalia glanced from brother to sister. Pru’s eyes glowed. This child of Justice’s, Amalia guessed, represented another tie to Tom.
Prudence did most of the talking. Merit chimed in occasionally when directly addressed, but volunteered almost nothing. Amalia imagined this day since she first discovered Justice’s name at the college, but she never thought Merit would act anything less than ecstatic.
Merit finally asked a question. “Why did you wait so long after Tom’s death to come to us?”
Justice took his time answering. When he spoke, the raspiness returned to punctuate his words. “Shock. At first I couldn’t believe it, that Tom had died. Then I…I couldn’t accept the news. I’d been in therapy on and off over the years and had to get some help again.” He looked at his sister. “Nothing, of course, like how you must grieve.” He leaned forward apparently to examine the floor before facing Merit again. “I had to find out what this meant for Cynthia, my daughter. Tom had the ties. I trusted him to watch over her, that his friends would be better parents than me. He always told me everything.”
Justice stopped, cleared his throat again. Amalia ached for him.
“I went to see her. The family adores her, takes good care of her. She…she calls the woman Mommy. I couldn’t rip her away from that. The pictures…they didn’t show how much she looks like Mary. Acts like her.” Justice blinked and whispered. “I loved her. We were just kids, but I loved her.”
Prudence knelt by her brother and held his hand.
“I have a good job. Not that far from here, actually, in Fulton. I can take care of my little girl now. I’m ready. I—they always knew I’d come for her one day. It’ll be hard at first. For all of us, but she knows who I am.”
Merit’s reaction, or more precisely, lack of reaction, to Justice’s revelation troubled Amalia. He had loved and lost, too. How did Merit feel? His expression remained somber. His next question surprised her.
“You were at the wedding, weren’t you?”
Justice went still. “I thought I could do it. See you then.” He looked away, blinking rapidly. “Tom…he said it would be too much, but I really wanted…then, I couldn’t.” He glanced at his brother. “I’m sorry. I begged him not to tell.”
Merit stood. “We can talk about this more in the morning. You’ll stay here.”
Amalia volunteered to get a room ready.
Later, in the privacy of their bedroom, Amalia reminded Merit of the schedule. “Paul’s coming on Monday with the family.”
“That’s right. I don’t want to kick anyone out. Perhaps the kids could share a room.”
Amalia wriggled on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position. “We could always use my house.” How much did he want to talk about this miracle today? She couldn’t understand his wariness. Couldn’t he believe his brother had finally come home?
“Oh? You’d be willing to let someone stay there?”
“Sure. Pru could go there, or Justice, if he stays.”
It didn’t take Merit’s sudden vibrating tension to let her know that this wouldn’t be a good time to discuss the family reunion. God seemed to enjoy dousing them with cloudbursts of frigid blessings instead of showers of warm, comforting ones. Amalia shifted.
He sighed. “Are you all right?”
“Just a bit of a sore back.” She rotated again and shivered when Merit’s hands soothed either side of her spine.
“Here, let me. Where does it hurt?”
“Low.” Amalia’s eyes closed. “Thank you.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice the swelling of her breasts. Wanting to be sure before she said anything, she had made a doctor’s appointment early the next week.
* * *
Pru and the kids moved to Amalia’s house. Justice had not planned to stay long, but agreed to wait and meet Paul and the Nehrangese family due to arrive on Monday.
Everyone met for lunch at their house after church. Pru served a helping of coleslaw to her daughter. “Tell us how you happened to help the refugees in Chicago,” she asked over Tricia’s head.
“You know, for a long time I hated anything to do with the Nehrangese,” Justice said. “I never wanted to hear about them again. They took my family, everything. I blamed them even for Mary’s death. But at college I’d have contact with students from someplace near Nehrangestan. I’d hear about the mission. After school, when the general plea requesting temporary housing for refugees came, I felt compelled
to offer my campus. When I met them, I found that my hatred had worn out.”
Lawrence leaned against Amalia, nearly asleep after eating. “Marianne is a gem,” Amalia said. “In fact, I don’t know if Merit told you, but I first ran across your name in Chicago, a year ago.”
Justice raised an eyebrow at his brother. “No, Merit didn’t say anything.”
Merit shook his head. “I tried to trace you through the college. I ran into dead ends.”
Amalia smiled at her husband and stroked Lawrence’s head. “But at the wedding…we would have loved for you to be with us.”
Justice turned a bit paler and blinked a couple of times. “I thought it would be so easy, you know, walk in there and pretend everything would be all right. Tom said I should come early, you know, not to just show up. Ease into it.”
“What happened?” Amalia asked gently. She touched his hand. He enveloped hers and squeezed back.
“I couldn’t get away any earlier. Then, when I got there…when I saw you, you looked so happy. I thought how things should have been different for me and…her, and I panicked. Tom was right. I shouldn’t have just crashed the party.”
Amalia drew Merit’s brother into a hug that included a squirming Lawrence who revived from his sleepy daze. Lawrence dropped off Amalia’s lap and stood there, wildly brushing his shirt and scrunching his mouth. “Ew.” They laughed.
“You’re here, now. And we’re overjoyed,” she said.
Merit tapped the table with his pen to get their attention. His day planner was open, even though Amalia had wished out loud more than once that he’d try to get through a meal without referring to the book. “What’s your schedule like for this week, Amalia? We want to make sure someone’s here with Paul and the family for a couple of days at least.”
Still puzzled by his lack of whole-hearted joy in receiving Justice back into his life, she answered, “I have a client Wednesday afternoon and a visitation on Thursday evening.”
“With Demarest?”
“Yes.”
Prudence asked if she could help at the house. “I met Paul at the wedding, remember? How long will the people stay?”
“Paul said maybe two weeks or less if he can find housing sooner,” Merit answered.
“This is someone you knew from the field?” Justice asked.
“Yes.” Merit’s answer came out clipped. “Excuse me, I have to make some calls.”
* * *
Paul brought the refugee family not on Monday, but Tuesday. Amalia held a hand up in front of her Nehrangesi guest, the husband of the family named Tombey, but didn’t touch him. Nehrangese were formal people who believed physical contact with others outside of their clan taboo. Paul had gone to pick up food and service vouchers and to arrange for medical care for their infant son who had a rash even Merit could not identify. Why didn’t Paul answer his phone? Amalia dialed again.
“I can’t understand you.” She shook her head at Tombey, who muttered in his rapid-fire Nehrangesi. She only understood a few of his words, and all of them were ominous. “Tombey, slow down. Stop.” The man paced to and fro in a panic as he wrung his hands.
Prudence and Justice had taken the kids away for the day somewhere. Paul did not answer his phone—not unusual with him.
And Merit had left again. He seemed more distracted since his brother came. Amalia wondered if she dreamed that episode in the car on the way home from Tom’s funeral and the aftermath. They never even got around to talking about what it meant to have his family as complete as it could be. Or having a family of their own. In two months he had reverted to his formerly busy state, rarely home and then often on the phone with either church or refugee business. How hard should she push for a vacation? He needed to relax and take time to get to know Justice.
She tried to get Merit at the office. Mrs. Field said he had an appointment with one of the three other couples whose weddings were scheduled over the summer. He had already performed one wedding and scheduled in-home visits for four upcoming baptisms.
The phone rang. Amalia breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the caller ID. “Paul, you’ve got to talk to Tombey. He’s quite distressed.”
After Tombey spoke and listened, he handed the phone back to her.
“Missus, Tombey tell you wife is ill,” Paul said in his lyrical way. “I think it best if you would be so kind to transport the entire family to the hospital. I will meet you there, very good.”
“Very good. We’ll go right away.”
Amalia had seen Tombey’s wife briefly the day before when they first arrived. She had been whisked upstairs to their room, but in that brief introduction, the woman had not looked well. After carrying the baby to the car and helping Tombey buckle his wife in the seat, Amalia put a hand to the slight twinge in her back.
Doctor Bader had confirmed the fact that she carried Merit’s child earlier. Amalia should tell him, but she needed to find the right time to share the good news with her husband. Everything had to be perfect for her announcement. They would be alone, of course. Maybe she could prepare a romantic meal. They had both been so terribly busy lately. Things had to slow down sometime. And Merit had to schedule their vacation soon.
After an intern looked at Tombey’s wife, she and their child were admitted to the hospital. Paul arranged for Tombey to stay there too, so Amalia left them, listening to Paul trying to convince Tombey he would not need to provide for their medicines and food himself.
Amalia went home to the big house alone and went to bed.
* * *
The next evening, Amalia arrived early at the funeral home to set up coffee and plates of snacks for the family visitation Hudson scheduled.
“My dear, are you feeling all right? You’re so pale.”
“I’m fine, Hudson, just a little tired.”
“I worry about you. It’s no secret our new pastor puts in long hours.”
So other people discussed their personal life? “Ministers don’t have regular hours, Hudson. You understand that.”
“Pastor Thompson insisted upon regular family time.”
Amalia made no reply, for Hudson had complained often and loudly about the time Pete spent at home.
Increasingly light-headed and nauseous, Amalia gritted her teeth and forced herself to remain standing until the last family member said goodnight to Hudson and left the funeral home. She didn’t quite make it to the striped sofa before she sank to the carpet.
Amalia opened her eyes to focus on Justice pressing a cool cloth to her forehead. Hudson stood nearby, his arms folded across his chest, frown of concern on his face.
“Mr. Campbell says he’ll take you home, but I wish you’d let me take you to the hospital. I don’t like this at all. You haven’t been yourself for months.”
She gripped her brother-in-law’s hand and pulled herself upright. “I’m fine, Hudson. It’s not unusual for pregnant women to faint.”
“Huh. Expecting already? And here you are, out in public, working. I would treat my wife with more consideration.”
Justice’s eyebrows rose and knit as he silently questioned Amalia. Amalia shook her head slightly. They’d talk later, alone.
“I apologize for inconveniencing you. I’m fine now. Let me clean up—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can take care of things here.”
Amalia clutched Justice’s arm when she felt her knees start to buckle. “I’ll amend the invoice, then. I think I’d better get home. Thank you, Hudson.”
When Justice helped her into the passenger side of her car, she asked about Merit.
“There was no one home. I happened to walk in the door and heard that man leaving a message. Um, it wasn’t very helpful, and I took the liberty of erasing it before coming to get you.”
“Thanks.”
“You seem to have a history with that guy.”
“You could say that. We always assumed we’d marry.”
“Oh.” Justice helped her up the steps to their room when
they arrived home. “Does Merit know about…what you told him?”
Amalia bit her lip, gently. Tears spilled over as she shook her head in mute reply. Justice let her head settle onto her pillow and raised her legs to the bed. He removed her shoes and sat next to her, waiting quietly, patiently, while she cried.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he warned when her tears slowed.
“O-okay.”
“I can guess that being married to a driven pastor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Not that your relationship is any of my business.”
“Skeletons come in all sizes and types. I learned that early on. And I’m just as good at keeping busy.”
“I bet you’ve heard it all. Prudence told me a little about your work.”
A movement by the door caused Amalia turn her head. Merit stood there. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Justice rose and turned to face his brother. “Amalia wasn’t feeling well at work, and I went to pick her up. I’ll say good night now that you’re here.”
Merit let him pass. The two men were nearly alike in silhouette, backlit from the hall.
“Thank you, Justice,” Amalia called.
He inclined his head.
Merit sat on the bed. He put his wrist against her temple. “What’s wrong? Why were you crying? Are you hurt?”
“I’ve had a couple of long days,” Amalia whispered. “I didn’t know what to do with Tombey yesterday, and today took a lot out of me. I stood too long, I guess. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m asking too much of you, aren’t I? Working with the house guests and keeping up with your own business.”
“I’m just tired tonight, Merit. That’s all. I’ll be all right in the morning after a good night’s sleep.”
A good night’s sleep would not give her time alone to tell her husband they were pregnant. Say it now. Tell him. But the timing…the romantic dinner alone she planned? The other voice whispered. The main point was he should know he’s going to be a father.
Merit took off his jacket, hung it in the closet, and headed for the bathroom.
How many babies had been desired, planned for, in this house and had not come to be? Amalia imagined new generations of Campbell laughs and cries echoing down the halls. They would start with this baby. She brushed her hand across her still queasy stomach.
The Last Detail Page 25
