Thinking of Marnie brought on a whole other set of issues. If only Marnie had sought and found the help she needed. She might be here with them to celebrate the holiday season.
No, she wouldn’t. She’d still be estranged, cold to Hannah and her mother, and angry.
Hannah’s unresolved feelings about Marnie gnawed at her, but not for long. Addie rushed over, rapturous at the sight of the rocking horse, and tried to climb on. Hannah laughed and helped her, and then Emmy wanted to try it out.
“We’d better get these shots taken before they get messed up. It’s kind of muddy out here.” Mom wiped a smear off Addie’s boot and adjusted Emmy’s hat. “Girls, sit on the bench and smile.”
Emmy climbed up. Addie’s forehead wrinkled and she opened her mouth. A “no” was clearly forthcoming.
“After we take some pretty pictures of pretty girls, we’ll share a cookie!” Mom pulled a crumbled sandwich cookie out of her pocket and winked at Hannah.
“Cookie. Okay.” Addie quickly climbed up beside her sister. They smiled and laughed while Hannah snapped pictures with her phone and Mom adjusted dresses and hats.
“Now, we need to do a family photo,” Hannah said as Mom delivered the promised cookie, breaking it in half for the twins.
Mom’s chin wobbled and she didn’t look at Hannah. When would that word—family—stop causing them pain? “I’ll set up the camera and do the timer,” Hannah said through a surprisingly tight throat.
Getting the angle right was tough. Hannah propped the phone on the arm of an Adirondack chair they’d never taken inside, but that was too low. By the time she’d run inside for a stack of books to raise it, the twins were losing focus. Setting the timer, rushing back into the picture herself and then trying to keep the twins smiling at the camera proved to be a losing proposition.
“You should call Luke,” Mom said after a couple of failed efforts. “See if he’ll run over and take it.”
Hannah frowned. “I don’t want to bother them.” Did Mom think something was going on between Hannah and Luke? Was she trying to make something happen, matchmaking?
As if their words and thoughts had summoned them, Luke and his father appeared, walking slowly, side by side, from the path that connected their properties. Luke held his father’s arm.
“Mercy, what are you doing out of the house?” Mom rushed toward the porch. “Let me get you a better chair.”
Addie and Emmy sat together on the bench, studying the new arrivals. They stared wide-eyed at Luke’s dad, walking so slowly and carefully, using a cane. Then Addie called out a bold “Hi!” and Mr. Hutchenson’s face lit up with a smile, and when he said, “Hi, yourself, little lady,” and made a face at Addie, both girls giggled.
It was apparent where Luke had gotten his ease with children.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Luke said as Mom came back with a chair. “We needed to get out, and we needed a destination. It’s a nice day.”
As Luke and Mom helped Mr. Hutchenson to sit down, Hannah wondered what was behind Luke’s words. Judging from the circles under his eyes, he’d had a sleepless night. But there was no hint of impatience in his expression or movements.
“Got stir-crazy,” Mr. Hutchenson admitted. “Not used to lying around the house.”
“You did the right thing,” Mom declared, “and you’re welcome to sit with us as long as you like. The twins will cheer anyone up.”
Especially their grandfather.
Confusion crowded Hannah’s mind. Mr. Hutchenson wasn’t well. Didn’t he deserve to know his granddaughters? To know that these adorable girls were his granddaughters?
At the same time, he was only sitting and making nice because he was sick. Normally, he’d be staying out late, closing the bars and causing trouble. In full health, he wasn’t the right influence for the twins, and Marnie had known that.
“We need help with our Christmas-card photos,” Mom said. “Can you take a few for us?”
“Sure thing.” Luke took the camera while Hannah and Mom each sat a twin in their lap.
Again, Hannah felt a pang. Truth be known, Luke and his father were part of this family.
The photography session still wasn’t easy—getting all four of them to smile naturally at the same time wasn’t a walk in the park—but with Luke laughing and encouraging them, it turned from a chore into fun. Luke teased and cajoled the twins and they clearly responded to him.
“They haven’t had much of a male influence, I don’t think,” Mom said as they posed the twins on the sleigh. “They seem to really blossom with it.”
The weight on Hannah’s shoulders got heavier. She’d said she’d try to find a man to bring into their lives...but her project of dating had stopped before it had even gotten started. She’d just been too busy. Way too busy to look around and meet potential partners.
She didn’t want to examine the other reason that hadn’t been a priority.
If she wasn’t going to date, there was another way for the girls to have a male influence: telling the truth. Letting Luke and his father know that they were related to the girls.
Emmy let out a terrific sneeze, and Hannah hurried to wipe her nose.
“Bobby used to sneeze just like that, loud,” Luke’s father said.
Hannah froze.
Mom misinterpreted the expression on Hannah’s face. “Don’t worry about a little sneezing,” she said. “Kids always do that. It doesn’t mean she’s sick.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” agreed Mr. Hutchenson. “Speaking of Bobby, Luke’s promised to take me to see him next week.”
Hannah felt a chill unrelated to the cloud that passed over the sun.
Keeping the secret Marnie had charged her with might not be in her hands. What if Mr. Hutchenson, or Luke, guessed the truth about the twins?
* * *
Monday morning, Luke sensed a cooling in Hannah’s attitude toward him. Man, did this woman ever run hot and cold! She’d seemed so friendly when he and his father had helped with the photography session on Saturday... At least, she’d seemed friendly at first. What had changed?
Bobby. Again, with the mention of his incarcerated brother, Hannah had gone cold.
It didn’t seem very Christian of her, and moreover, it didn’t seem like Hannah. She’d been friends with some of the outcast kids in her elementary school, from what he could remember. She didn’t speak disparagingly about her cousin Samantha’s struggle with alcoholism, something Corbin and Samantha had told Luke about when they’d been helping to clean up after Thanksgiving dinner.
Hannah was an all-around good, accepting person.
So what was it about Bobby?
Or maybe it was something about Luke himself.
They had no time to work anything out, though, because Reese came in and told them that Mrs. Markowski and Mr. Romano were coming on Thursday and expected the project to be near completion. They’d made good progress, but they weren’t far enough along, so they focused and worked all morning. The place got to be a mess again, with paint and cleaning products and flooring materials everywhere, but it was all part of the process.
Luke was just starting to think they would get it done when Hannah got a call that made her frown.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Emmy’s sick,” she said, biting her lip. “She’s over at the Learn-and-Play, and they want me to come get her. She has a fever.”
“Hey, it happens.” He remembered when Nicolette had gotten sick, which had happened pretty frequently. “It’s probably nothing, but you might want to take her to the pediatrician just to be sure.”
Hannah grabbed her coat and pawed through her purse. “Where are my keys? I need to get over there. I could hear her crying when Gabby called.”
“They’re right here.” Luke picked up her keys from the hook beside the coatrack. “Come o
n. I’ll go over with you.”
“Thank you!” She looked relieved, and he almost thought she was going to cling to his arm as they walked across Rescue Haven’s big lawn and gravel road.
The Learn-and-Play was furnished with small chairs around a couple of tables, a row of high chairs along a taller table, colorful rugs and bins of toys. Luke swallowed hard, remembering when Nicolette had gone to a day care similarly decorated. Maybe they were all this way. He’d often been the one to pick her up after work, and she’d always gotten so excited to see him, running to him, holding her arms up, calling him Da-da.
Then he heard Emmy’s wail, coming from the row of cribs along one wall.
“She feels warm, and her temperature seems to be rising,” Gabby told them. “I put her over in the cubby nook in a crib, just to keep her away from the other kids, but she doesn’t like being separated from Addie. It’s probably inevitable that Addie will catch whatever she has, too, but right now she’s fine.”
Hannah hurried over to Emmy and picked her up. “She’s burning up. I need to take her to the doctor, but what about Addie? Mom’s alone at the bakery today, and—”
Gabby waved a hand. “Don’t give it another thought. I’ll drive Addie over to your house at the end of the day. You and Emmy will probably be home by then, but if you’re not, your Mom will be, right?”
“Yes.” But Hannah still looked worried. “How can I just stick Emmy in her car seat, crying like this?”
Luke held out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive while you sit in the back with her. You can call the doctor’s office, too, let them know we’re coming.” He walked over to the bins, found the one labeled Emmy and pulled out her little bag. From the labeled hook, he grabbed Emmy’s coat.
Hannah’s shoulders relaxed. “You’d do that for me? That would be such a huge help.” She took the coat from him and eased it onto the crying child.
They left the Learn-and-Play and carried Emmy and her things through cold, blowing snow to Hannah’s car. Luke hurried to open the back door, then scooped Emmy out of Hannah’s arms and plunked her into the car seat. Her hair was damp with sweat, and he didn’t want her to get a chill on top of everything else. “Get in beside her,” he told Hannah as he tossed the diaper bag onto the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel. “Call the pediatrician, then GPS the address for me. It’s the one out on Todd Farm Road, right? But I don’t know the fastest way to get there.”
As Hannah followed his instructions, patting Emmy the whole time, the baby’s cries downgraded into whimpers, and Luke felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time: a sense of rightness. He was where he needed and wanted to be, where God intended him to be.
Wouldn’t it be nice if he could have that feeling all the time?
Chapter Thirteen
Inside the pediatrician’s office, Hannah hurried to the receptionist’s desk, carrying Emmy, Luke behind her. “I’m Hannah Antonicelli and this is Emmy. I called?”
“Right, have a seat.” The receptionist gave Luke a speculative glance, obvious enough for Hannah to notice even amid her worry.
Luke was an attention-getter, all right. Especially as he scooped Emmy from her arms so that Hannah could fill out the paperwork and walked around the office, cooing and bouncing her gently, settling her fussing.
A man that handsome who was also a baby whisperer? No wonder the receptionist was staring.
Hannah sat down and filled out the papers, dug in her purse for the brand-new insurance card, thankful the visit would be covered. It was only their second time in the office; on their first, they hadn’t had it all straightened out yet and had had to pay the full cost of the appointment.
The pretty receptionist got up and walked over to Luke, then tickled Emmy’s chin, rousing Hannah’s ire. Was it really protocol for her to flirt so obviously with the man of the family?
Although maybe she’d looked at Emmy’s chart and seen that there was only a mother and grandmother listed, no father. And maybe she wasn’t really flirting. Maybe Hannah was being oversensitive.
Whatever the reason, Hannah’s insecurities kicked in. Unlike the neat, scrubs-clad receptionist, Hannah was dirty from work, her jeans old and faded, her plaid shirt out of style. She reached up to straighten her hair and found a piece of straw from the barn in it. She was a hayseed, no mistake about that.
The door to the back office opened. “Hannah Antonicelli?” called a white-clad nurse.
Hannah took Emmy from Luke and handed the clipboard to the receptionist, then headed toward the open door.
“Dad can come, too,” the nurse said.
Hannah glanced back to see Luke raising an eyebrow at her. Your call, he seemed to be saying.
She wanted him with her. And her jealous, insecure side didn’t want to leave him out there with the flirty receptionist. She gave him a nod, and he followed her back to the office.
The nurse had barely finished the preliminaries before the doctor came in and took over. “What’s going on with this sweetheart?” she asked. She glanced at the computer where the nurse had entered Emmy’s basics, then had Hannah hold her while she listened to her chest and felt her forehead.
Hannah started to relax a little. This was why she’d liked Dr. Marcy on their first visit: she was hands on and seemed to take her time, and obviously, she had a way with babies.
“We’re going to give her something for her fever right now, and some for you to take home for later. It sounds like she’s got the same little flu that’s been going around. Happens every year, and most likely, everyone in her day care will get it. Including her twin, and possibly you.” She nodded at Hannah and Luke. Then she frowned. “Are you Dad? I thought...” She leaned toward the computer.
“No,” Luke said. “I’m a friend of the family.”
“Okay to talk in front of him?” the doctor asked Hannah.
A cold claw of fear reached into Hannah’s chest. There were things Luke shouldn’t know, and she’d only now realized they could come out in this visit.
“Sure,” she said faintly. Because, of course, Emmy’s health was the priority.
The doctor administered the medicine and gestured Hannah toward a chair. “Go ahead, sit and hold her. She’s uncomfortable with the fever, but it’s clear that she’s bonded to you.”
As if in agreement, Emmy settled into Hannah’s chest, thumb in her mouth.
The doctor studied the chart again and then turned on her wheeled stool and faced Hannah. “Did you get the chance to do that parent questionnaire on development?”
Hannah groaned softly. “I completely forgot.”
“Do it soon,” the doctor said.
There was something in her tone. “Should I be worried?”
The doctor rolled her chair closer and held a pencil toward Emmy, who grasped it, then dropped it. “How many words can she say?”
Hannah frowned. “She says ‘Mama’ and ‘ball’ and ‘Gamma.’ She calls me ‘Hah’ sometimes and ‘Mama’ sometimes.”
“She says ‘pizza,’” Luke contributed, lightening the atmosphere a little.
The doctor smiled. “That’s good then. Does she put words together yet?”
“No. Addie, her twin, does, but Emmy doesn’t.”
“Very common in twins,” the doctor said. “One will be a little delayed in speech and the other takes over the talking.” She squeaked a colorful stuffed octopus in front of Emmy and then held it out to her.
Emmy reached for it, then dropped it.
“Is that normal?” both Luke and Hannah asked at the same time.
“It seems like she has a couple of delays,” the doctor said. “That’s common, and she might catch up quickly on her own. A lot of kids do. But early intervention has really good outcomes, and it’s a free service from the State of Ohio.”
Hannah swallowed. “You think she needs
early intervention? Is there something we—or her mom—could have done differently to prevent this?”
“It’s doubtful,” the pediatrician said cheerfully. “Mostly, delays like this are genetic. I remember your mom said you and your sister were early walkers and talkers, so it’s not coming from your side. You might want to check into Dad’s history, if it’s available. But regardless, filling out the questionnaire is the first step of early intervention paperwork, and I think it’s worth doing.”
“Of course, I will.” Hannah’s stomach churned as they gathered Emmy’s things and walked out of the office, slowly, because Emmy had fallen asleep on Hannah’s shoulder. Luke carried everything and opened doors, then helped to get Emmy into her car seat.
She loved having his help. Not so much the physical, although that was great, but the emotional. Having someone there to talk over what the doctor had said and figure out what to do next.
Of course, Hannah was blessed to have her mother, who would be eager to hear everything, who’d help Hannah complete the questionnaires on the twins, who was every bit an involved grandma, a live-in one. Lots of single moms didn’t have that kind of support, and Hannah shouldn’t be sad just because she didn’t have a man.
She looked over at Luke’s profile as he confidently, competently drove her little car back to her house, brushing aside her suggestion that they go get his car at Rescue Haven, assuring her that he’d get it tomorrow, that he could use his dad’s vehicle in an emergency.
Why was he being so helpful and supportive? Did he care for her, at least a little, or was he just being kind?
And what would he think if he found out the truth, that he was the twins’ uncle?
* * *
Wednesday morning, Luke and Hannah climbed out of Hannah’s car at Rescue Haven. Reese strode toward them immediately, looking agitated. “We have a problem,” he said.
Finding a Christmas Home Page 12
