A Quiet Strength (9 page)

Virginia straightened and dabbed at her eyes with her hankie. “I think I’m beginning to understand,” she said quietly. “I’m glad we had this little chat.”

Clara squeezed the hand she still held.

“I have a Christmas present for you,” Jonathan whispered to Virginia as he joined her beneath the feather quilt. She forced sleep from her foggy brain and tried to raise herself to a sitting position.

“What?” she asked sleepily.

“A new house?” His voice ended the statement like a question.

Virginia came fully awake. “You mean …?”

“It’s not totally finished. I’ll have to keep working on it as we go, but if you like, we can move in. It’s far enough along to be livable. If … you don’t mind putting up with that—for a while.”

“But I thought …”

“Your grandpa Clark has been helping me. We wanted it to be a surprise.”

Did she mind? Would she put up with an unfinished house? There was no doubt in her mind. They would be together. They would be alone. It was an answer to her prayers.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

Virginia threw herself into his arms. But it was tears that came rather than laughter. She wasn’t sure, but in the darkness she wondered if there were tears on his cheeks, too.

CHAPTER  9

I
t was neither large nor fancy. There were no bay windows. No winding staircases. The structure was plain and solid. The simple floor plan was designed for practicality. As yet there was no trim around the doors and windows. No finishing paint or wallpaper on the walls. Yet Virginia could not have imagined the excitement she felt upon moving into her very own home. It was like every Christmas, every birthday, every picnic—and the first time Jonathan said he loved her—all rolled into one. Jonathan watched and chuckled. Then shook his head, by turn. He’d had no idea just how much having her own place would mean to her.

“Oh, I can’t wait to bake bread,” she enthused as she ran a hand lovingly over the surface of the new stove’s gleaming enamel oven door. Then she rushed about making up beds, hanging temporary curtains, spreading out rugs.

“Just think. I can unpack all the dishes. They have a cupboard now.”

And on and on she went, savoring every minute of the new experience.

That evening when Jonathan came in from his final chores, Virginia handed him a mug of hot chocolate and beckoned to him to join her by the fireplace. Together they sipped and chatted as the fire crackled in the hearth, and the sound of an occasional whinny was the only intrusion from the outside night.

“You must be exhausted,” Jonathan observed.

“I am a little weary, but it’s a good tired. I like this kind of work much better than any old post-office job,” she noted, inwardly thankful once again that she had been able to quit when they moved.

“I guess your ‘nesting’ is much like my building. Tired doesn’t count.”

Virginia shook her head to clear her thinking and stared at the fireplace flames. Was that how it had been for Jonathan? Was his eagerness to get the home built similar to her eagerness to actually move in and live there? No wonder he often had not come back until the middle of the night.

“I still have more to do tomorrow,” Virginia said, turning to him, “but I’m amazed at how much I was able to get done today.”

Jonathan’s eyes roamed the room. “It looks real homey,” he observed.

“It does, doesn’t it? It feels homey, too.” She moved from her chair to sit at his feet and lean her head against his knee. “Jonathan, I can’t tell you how happy I am. Almost like we’re … we’re starting fresh….” She didn’t explain further, but Jonathan’s hand stroked her hair in unspoken response.

Virginia lifted her head to gaze again at her new surroundings. “Do you suppose you might find time tomorrow to get us a Christmas tree?”

Jonathan nodded. “Where’re you going to put it?”

“In the corner by the window.”

“Got any do-bobs for it?”

“Do-bobs?”

“You know. To hang on it. Fancy it up.”

“Decorations? No. But I’ll make some.”

“That’d be nice. But it’s only three days till Christmas.”

“Oh, I’ll manage,” she said lightly. Then, “I wish … I wish we hadn’t promised the folks that we’d have Christmas with them. It would be fun to have it here, in our new house.”

“Guess we’ll have lots of Christmases here.”

Virginia nodded. Lots of Christmases. Their whole life stretched before them with open-ended promise.

Jonathan set aside his empty mug. “Do you have to wash it up tonight?” he asked Virginia.

She shook her head slowly, puzzled at his question. “It can wait for morning.”

“Good.”

He stood to his feet. “ ’Cause I’m sure anxious to see how you’ve set up our bedroom.”

Virginia flushed and stretched her hand to reach his, and he pulled her to her feet.

Their Christmas celebration with the family included Grandpa Clark and Grandma Marty as well as Grandmother Withers.

“My, I’ve been missing you something awful,” the elderly lady said in greeting as she gave Virginia a tight hug.

“As soon as the weather warms up, Jonathan will be in to get you and bring you out to see the house,” Virginia promised. “We even have a spare bed so you can stay the night.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I should do that. Fires need to be tended in this kind of weather.”

“ We’ll find someone to check your fires. I’m sure Father—”

“Wouldn’t want my indoor plants to freeze. That new violet is blooming now. You should see it. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Deep blue with a light blue fringe.”

“It sounds lovely.”

Virginia moved on to greet her grandparents.

“Hear you’ve got a right nice little place out there,” said Marty. Virginia only nodded, but her eyes were shining with her joy.

From her grandmother’s embrace she moved to her grand? father. “I understand you had a hand in helping get us in by Christmas,” she said, hugging Clark close.

“Well, now, I didn’t do much. Your man did the lion’s share of the work. You got yourself a good one, my dear.”

“I know, Grandpa,” said Virginia, turning to give Jonathan a proud smile.

“I’m anxious to see it,” put in Marty.

“New Year’s,” said Virginia, nodding enthusiastically. “Jona? than and I have talked it over, and we’d like to invite the family for New Year’s dinner. Can you come?”

All agreed they would have a New Year’s dinner and a housewarming, in one event. Virginia thought her heart would burst with emotion.

Before they scarcely had time to let the Christmas turkey settle, the sun was dipping toward the western horizon. People began searching out heavy coats and hats and scarves, bundling up against the chill of winter. Jonathan signaled to Virginia with a slight nod, and she, too, went to get their wraps. They faced a cold drive. Virginia was anxious to get home so she could stretch out her feet toward the fire and sip a cup of hot apple cider. And look around again at their wonderfully cozy home. If they hurried, there still would be some evening left before retiring.

They were standing in the kitchen, saying their last good-byes, when there was a rap on the door. All eyes turned toward it, wondering who was joining the festivities at such a late hour of the day. Jonathan, standing closest, moved to open it.

Perhaps Clara was popping in with the boys on their way home from Troy’s family dinner. Or Dr. Luke, stopping with a cheery hello as he returned from an emergency.

But it was Jenny who stood on the back porch, shivering against the cold. Jenny with a very chilled little Mindy close at her side.

Virginia and Jonathan took Jenny and her child home with them. This wasn’t how Virginia had intended to conclude their Christmas festivities, but after a hurried, whispered consultation, they agreed it was the thing to do. Virginia noticed that Jenny carried two suitcases. At least this time she had come prepared to stay—for how long, no one asked.

Mindy was warmed with a hot bath and tucked into bed. Thumb in mouth, she curled up into a tiny ball and went to sleep almost as soon as her head touched down. Jenny was a different matter. She paced and prowled in agitated fashion until Virginia wished she could tell her to settle down. Then it dawned on her that Jenny’s need for a cigarette likely had a good deal to do with it. “You may smoke in the sunroom. Just close the door to the house and open the window,” she conceded. She hated the thought of smoke in the house at all. “You know, Jenny, some nourishing food would be better than a cigarette.”

“Yes, Mother,” she interrupted in mock submission. But Virginia could tell she was relieved to be able to have her cigarette without going out to face the cold.

“Please don’t smoke in the bedroom,” Virginia went on, feeling that the rules should be clearly laid out at the start. “We’ll leave a light on if you need to come down in the night.”

Jenny nodded mutely.

Virginia’s tone softened. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

Even as she spoke the words, Virginia inwardly cringed. She had been so looking forward to having Jonathan all to herself. To finally be able to make a home for him. For the two of them. And now … But there was no way she would turn Jenny and her little one away. It would be not only selfish. It was totally unthinkable.

“I don’t expect to be long,” answered Jenny, but she gave no further hint of what was going on, what she had in mind.

It wasn’t until two days later that Jenny began to talk about her situation. Hayden had left her. No—not really left her. He had kicked her out. Well, no—not really kicked her out. He had simply come home with another woman. Jenny, in a wild burst of temper, had decided to move out. Virginia could tell she was already having second thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have left,” she stormed on the third day. “I should have grabbed her by her fake blond hair and thrown her out.
I
should have thrown
him
out!” she finished, calling him an unrepeatable name.

Virginia made no comment.

“It’s the kid,” Jenny spat out on the fourth day, venom in her voice. “Hayden never wanted kids. He told me he’d kill me if I had another one.”

Virginia’s face showed her shock, and she stood frozen in place as if she’d been struck herself.

“He didn’t mean it literally.” Jenny swore. “It’s just an expression, Virginia.” But Jenny’s explanation did not erase the horror from Virginia’s heart.

On the sixth day, Jenny thumped down the stairs. “I’m going back,” she announced to Virginia, who was busy washing up the breakfast dishes.

“Wait, Jenny.” Virginia wiped her hands on her apron. “Are you sure? Think about it.”

“I’ve already thought about it. I’m going back. I know I can get him back again if …”

Virginia waited for the rest of the sentence. It did not come.

“If what, Jenny?”

“If I dump the kid.” The words were out there. Blunt and ugly.

Virginia’s face paled and her heart felt like it was being squeezed. “What do you mean? I … I don’t under? stand….”

“There’s a home for kids in the city. I’ve thought about it for a long time. She’d be better off there anyway.”

“But you can’t just …” Virginia was shaking, and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“She’s my kid.”

“That’s my point. How can you just … just desert your own child?”

“It’s not exactly desertion. It’ll be best for her, too, in the long run. She might even be adopted into a family.”

“But how could you, Jenny? How can you stand there and talk about giving up your own child?”

“Don’t preach at me, Virginia. I’m finished with your sermons.”

“Jenny, that’s not fair. I have not preached one single sermon in the time you have been with us.”

“Maybe not out loud. But your eyes have preached at me every time you look at me.”

“What you think you see in my eyes is your own interpretation. Not necessarily what I am thinking or feeling.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea what you’re thinking. I’ve known you a long time. I’ve heard your thoughts and opinions often enough. Enough to know that you must have a pretty low view of me.”

“Please … could we talk? Please, Jenny, just sit down. I’ll make some coffee and we’ll talk about this.”

“I’m not changing my mind. It’s the only way I can work through this.”

“All right,” Virginia conceded. “I’m not asking you to change your mind—if you’re sure. But let’s just talk about it before you … you go through with this.”