A Searching Heart (6 page)

“I will arrive there dripping wet,” she mumbled to herself. “My hair will be a sight, my dress all wrinkled, my stockings splashed with dirty rainwater and my shoes soppy. I will likely catch my death of cold.”

Her final regret was that the cold would not develop quickly enough to rescue her from her present dilemma.

But none of the dreadful predictions came true—thanks to the care of her father, who managed to deliver her in a dry and unwrinkled condition. Her mother reached out to do a last-minute pat of her hair—more because she was a mother than because the hair needed it. “We're proud of you,” Belinda whispered and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. Virginia felt a spark of confidence being reborn.

The ceremony proceeded in accordance with their program. Jenny's father had printed up the sheets as his contribution to the community and the special event. The principal included thanks to the local newsman in his opening remarks.

Jenny gave her address. It contained some bits of humor but nothing that brought embarrassment to anyone. Virginia heaved a sigh of relief when it was over, and Jenny cast a glance of victory her way.

A group of junior students sang a song dedicated to the graduating class, and the principal exhorted the graduates about reaching their full potential.

Then it was Virginia's turn. She walked to the podium on trembling legs, but once she began, she forgot her nervousness. Looking out into the audience and seeing the proud grin on her grandfather's face and the quiet nodding of her grandmother in agreement gave her added confidence. She finished to a fine round of applause.

And just as simply as that, it was over. She was no longer a student in the local town. She was a graduate. An adult. She thought she should feel something. Older. Wiser. But she felt nothing but a strange emptiness. An inner knowledge that she was now on the edge of the nest, ready to try her own wings. That she would need to find her own place in the world. Reestablish herself in some way that she didn't yet fully understand. It was a bit frightening. She felt a sudden thankfulness that college would wait for a few months. She needed some time to make the adjustment. To discover, like Rodney, just who she was and how to establish her identity before becoming a responsible adult and leaving the safety of the home she loved.

She thought she might understand—just a little bit—about what her mother had said about changing. College would change her. Would force her to change. She would never be a child again.

———

Jenny found a summer job and began to tuck away money for the upcoming college year. Her father would be paying her tuition and board, she told Virginia, but she intended to make sure that she would also have money for clothes and parties. She was sure her father would not be providing adequately in that department. And Jenny intended to do a good deal of partying.

Virginia knew there would be no summer job for her. Clara's baby was due any day, and as things now stood, no one could expect Clara to take over immediate care of the newborn. Virginia only hoped that there would be no complications with the birthing. Each day Clara and the new baby took a good share of the family prayer time.

Their mother had seemingly gotten over her earlier fears and, with the help of their father, had placed her confidence in the fact that God was in total control of the situation. Whatever the outcome of the impending birth, God would be with them and help them to face whatever they must face. It was in the middle of the night that the knock came on their door. Belinda was up and at the door so quickly, Virginia wondered if her mother had been lying awake anticipating it.

Virginia heard the murmur of voices even before she could stand on shaking limbs and work her arms into her robe.

Then she heard her mother hurrying back down the hall to be met midway by her father. “Luke and Dr. Braden have gone over to Clara's,” she heard her mother say just as she exited her room.

“How is she?” asked Drew, tying his own robe around himself.

“So far they have no concerns. Things seem to be . . . normal.”

“Are they taking her to the surgery?”

“No. Luke thinks that under the circumstances she will be better if she is not moved. They plan to deliver the baby at home.”

“I'll get dressed.”

The final statement from her father was an acknowledgment that Belinda would need to be there. He was prepared to get her there as quickly as possible.

Francine came sleepily into the hallway. “Is it—”

“Yes,” her mother answered without waiting for the complete question. She stopped long enough to brush Francine's hair back from her face, cast a quick glance Virginia's way, and then moved hurriedly on.

Virginia turned to Francine, who had suddenly dissolved into tears. “Don't,” pleaded Virginia. “We should pray—not cry.”

She felt in no condition to try to comfort a sobbing sister.

“I have prayed,” wailed Francine.

“Then trust,” Virginia responded almost severely. Then she thought better of it and reached out to pull Francine's head against her. She said no more, just stroked the trembling shoulder of her younger sister until the sobs subsided.

“I have a feeling it is going to be a long night,” Virginia whispered into the darkness. “We should try to get some more sleep.”

“I'll never sleep now” came the sniffing reply, and Virginia feared that Francine might start crying all over again.

“Then let's go to the kitchen and have some warm milk,” she quickly suggested and led the way.

“I wish Rodney were home,” Francine snuffled.

“He is to come tomorrow.”

“I wish he were here now.”

Virginia wished that, too. But Rodney, who normally would have arrived home already, had been given permission to spend a couple of weeks on a camping trip with some of his new friends. One was Austin, who had finally warmed to Rodney's friendship and had admitted that his unknown disease had him worried and scared.

“This time could be very important,” Rodney had said over the phone. “I feel that Austin needs me.”

And his parents had readily agreed that the time in the outdoors, away from college pressures, would be time well spent.

“He will be here soon,” Virginia repeated. “Maybe he will even get here before Clara's baby.”

Francine's eyes widened. “It takes that long to have a baby?”

“Sometimes.”

“But that's hours.”

“I know. Sometimes it takes hours.”

Francine began to cry again. “I don't think I can stand it for that long,” she cried.

“
You
stand it?” Virginia asked abruptly. “What about Clara?”

The cries grew louder, and Virginia knew she had said the wrong thing.

“Blow your nose. Here.” She handed Francine a fresh hankie. “Are there any more of those muffins left?” she went on, hoping to distract her sister.

“In the pantry,” sniffled Francine.

“Get a couple.”

Francine went off to the pantry just as their parents came in the kitchen, fully dressed and anxious to be on their way.

“You'll watch out for Francine,” Belinda was saying in a low voice as she drew on her light coat.

Virginia nodded. Her mother knew that she would, but Virginia guessed she had to say the words anyway.

“I expect to be back soon,” said her father. “I'd be useless and in the way there.”

Virginia nodded again.

“Let us know . . .” began Virginia. Those words were not necessary, either, but she had to speak them.

Francine emerged from the pantry carrying a muffin in each hand. At the sight of her parents, she burst into tears again, and her mother gave her a quick hug. “Tell Clara—we're praying,” Francine sobbed out to the backs of her departing mother and father. “We love her. She was a . . . a wonderful sister. I really—”

“Stop it,” cut in Virginia. “You're talking like . . . like she's dying or something.”

“Well . . .” blubbered Francine.

“She's only having a baby. Hundreds—thousands of women have babies every year.”

“And some of them . . .” began Francine, but Virginia refused to let her say it.

“Get the butter,” she ordered more loudly than necessary. “I'll put the milk on.”

Francine blew her nose and moved to the pantry once more.

“This is going to be a long, long night,” Virginia said again under her breath. She felt like weeping, too.

———

News came long before Rodney's eleven-o'clock train pulled in at the local station the next morning. Clara had a baby boy. Mother and baby both seemed to be resting comfortably. The doctors in charge felt no reason to be concerned about the new arrival, and Clara seemed to have weathered the birthing much better than they had dared to hope. The good news traveled fast. Belinda insisted on taking it out to the farm herself to inform the great-grandparents.

Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. God had seen them through another crisis. And if the news hadn't been so good, she told herself, God would have seen them through that, too.

Rodney's train was met with extra enthusiasm as he was greeted with the news that he was now an uncle. Virginia shared his emotions as his cap soared high into the air and he gave a whoop of delight.

“Have they named him yet?” was his first question.

“He's Anthony Clark,” Francine announced before Virginia had time to answer.

“Anthony Clark. That's nice. Real nice.”

“And Clara says that he is not to be called Tony,” added Francine importantly.

“And how does she plan to stop that?” laughed Rodney.

“She says she will pummel the first one who calls him that,” spoke up Danny.

“And the others?”

Danny shrugged. “I suppose she will pummel all of them.”

Rodney laughed again, then gathered his suitcases, passing some to Virginia and Danny to carry. A small parcel was handed to Francine as her allotment.

“Don't drop that,” he admonished her. “I've been nursing it all the way home. There's something for Mama and that new baby in there.”

“How did you know what to buy?” asked Francine, attempting to get a peek into the parcel.

“For Mama?”

“No, silly. For the baby.”

“What do you mean? Babies aren't too particular, so I've been told.”

“But you didn't know if it was a boy or a girl.”

“So? I bought a toy and a couple of bibs. I don't expect him to complain.”

They all joined in Francine's laugh.

“Now, let's get out of here and go get a look at him,” said Rodney, picking up the remaining suitcase.

“We can't.” The short directive came from Virginia.

Rodney stopped short. “What do you mean?”

“We can't. Not yet. Clara has to rest. Mama says that it may be two or three days before we can see him.”

Rodney's face showed his disappointment. “Haven't any of you seen him yet?”

“No,” they all said in unison.

“And Danny didn't even know he was on the way,” accused Francine. “He slept right through the whole commotion.”

Danny shrugged again. “Nothing I could have done about it anyway,” he excused himself.

Rodney reached out a hand and ruffled Danny's hair. “C'mon,” he said. “Let's get on home. I'm starving.”

Virginia picked up the case she was to carry and followed her two brothers from the station. A smile played about the corners of her mouth. Rodney didn't seem to have changed— at least much—at all.

CHAPTER 5

U
ncle Luke says you can pay a visit to Clara,” Belinda announced the next day as she entered the kitchen where her family was having their noon meal. They had not expected this news to come so soon, so excitement followed.

“Is Clara well again?” asked Francine.

Belinda withdrew her gloves and removed her hat. “No, she's still not strong, but she is so anxious to show you her new son that Luke thinks her agitation may cause more trouble than your visit. If you stay only a few minutes, Luke says it shouldn't cause any harm.”

The enthusiasm of the little group was tempered by the reality that Clara had a ways to go to full recovery.

“But she will be okay, won't she?” asked Francine.

“We hope so. But it may be a long, slow process. If we only could discover what it is that has bothered her, we might be able to do something about it.”

“You still don't know?” asked Rodney with a frown.

“Luke thinks now that it may be some infectious bacteria— not connected with her pregnancy at all.”

“Will the baby get it?”

Belinda shook her head slowly. “We don't have any answers. We certainly hope not. But it is something to pray about.”

Belinda was the one to break the silence that had fallen. “He's a beautiful baby. You are going to love him. He's already stolen my heart.”

She was smiling as she moved to pour herself a cup of tea.

“Well, Grandma,” teased Rodney. “I didn't expect anything else. He would have stolen your heart if he'd been purple with one eye and a green tail.”

They all laughed, but they knew it to be true. Belinda was bound to be taken with her first grandchild.

“Well, he has two beautiful dark eyes, he's creamy white, with a reasonable amount of dark hair—and no green tail,” she answered Rodney's banter.

“Oooh! I can hardly wait to see him,” exclaimed Francine. “Virginia, are you going to take all the things you've made for him?”

Virginia thought of the little garments she had sewn whenever she could find a few spare moments. And the sweater set and baby shawl she had knitted. “I've already given most of it to Clara. She was feeling so down because she wasn't able to be up sewing and getting ready, so I took the things I had finished.”