It was then that the older man stepped forward. He was the one who Allyson had run into earlier. Literally ran into.
His dog hunkered behind him and looked up and down the street, wondering who all these people were on his turf.
Allyson watched as the man took another step forward, scanning the faces of those circled up. “Ya’ll here looking for a baby?”
Hearing him, Bridget rushed forward. Her usually primped hair hung tangled around her face. “Yes. My son. He’s ten months old.”
“And dressed like Bono,” Allyson added.
“What?” Bridget turned to her, a puzzled expression on her face.
Allyson circled up her mouth, feigning innocence. “What?”
The man shifted from side to side. He still seemed unsure. “Name Caprice mean anything to you?”
Bridget’s eyebrows flattened out. Yes, that name meant a lot to the young mom, but tonight that name meant the key to finding her son.
“That—” She looked to Ally and held her gaze. “That’s the person who was supposed to be keeping my baby.”
“Yes!” A half-dozen people answered at once, finally catching on to what was happening here.
Hearing that, a big smile crossed the man’s face. Then he motioned toward a small, neat-kept house across the street. “Ya’ll come with me. I have something to show you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Bridget had finally done it. Seeing Pastor Ray—and all those bikers showing up—she’d done the one thing she’d been holding back on. She’d prayed. She’d told God that if He’d help her find Phoenix that she’d stop being offended with Sean and Ally when they brought up God. And maybe He’d listened. After all, if all these people—especially Pastor Ray and Sondra—cared about her and Phoenix, then maybe God did too.
She followed the man into the small house. The scent of apple pie greeted her, and she wondered what it would be like to live in such a place. It was neat, clean, and she felt a special peace here . . . then she saw the most important thing. Across the room there was a rocking chair. And in the rocking chair was a beautiful, older woman. And on her lap was . . . Phoenix!
Bridget rushed in, feeling Ally right by her side, right where she’d been all night.
Noticing Bridget’s smile, her excitement, the older woman cast her a grin. “You must be Momma. He’s just woke up.” She lifted the handsome baby with sleepy eyes and handed him over.
Bridget took Phoenix from the woman’s arms, and the woman released a contented sigh. “It’s been so long since I’ve held a baby. So precious.”
Bridget kissed his cheeks, taking in their softness. She pressed her face into his neck, breathing in his baby scent.
He’s okay. He’s okay!
The sound of the screen door slamming caught her attention. She looked up to see Joey rushing in. He froze when he spotted Phoenix on her lap. “Oh, that’s him!” Relief flooded his face. “Oh thank God.” And, as if using every ounce of energy he had, Joey slumped to the floor, grasping the La-Z-Boy for support.
Giving them some time to themselves, Allyson returned outside. She looked across the manicured lawn to the street. Circled up around a map that was spread upon the top of one of the cop cars was Cabbie, the police chief, and Bones. And just outside the door were her friends—Izzy, Zoe, Sondra, waiting for the news. Pressing her mouth into a smile, she nodded to them.
Then she lifted her chin to call to the others. “We found him!”
A cheer rose, and if there was anyone in the neighborhood still asleep they were awake now.
The police captain nodded, and then he lowered his chin and spoke into his radio. “Call off the helicopter.”
The mood immediately changed, and the men started booing, disappointed that their adventure was over.
“Guys,” Sean called out to them. “We just found a baby!”
The cheers rose again.
“Alright, wrap this puppy up,” Bones said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Allyson turned to Izzy. “Wait, where are my babies?”
Izzy waved a hand, as if that wasn’t a worry. “They’re at your house. With Kevin. Sean said it was okay.”
“With Kevin?” Allyson snapped. She sucked in a deep breath, and it was all she could manage not to have a panic attack. She could see it now. Her nightmare—Kevin sitting in the middle of her barricaded living room. The children circled up around him. He lifted a knife into the air. “This is a knife,” he was saying. “Who wants to hold it?” All the hands shot up.
“Sean!” she yelled. He looked up at her, and he no doubt could see what was coming. The “moment” was now focused on him. Sean turned and began running. Allyson sprinted down the porch steps and across the lawn. She couldn’t help but smile as she ran.
She was just about to leave when she remembered Cabbie.
Allyson hurried over to him. “Okay, sorry. I know tonight has been—”
“Profound,” Cabbie interrupted. “You owe me all kinds of money.”
“Yes, I do.” Her eyes widened. “I—uh . . .”
Seeing her dilemma, and her need to get home, Pastor Ray stepped forward. “No, no, no . . . you go. I got this.”
Allyson didn’t wait for him to offer twice. All she could think about was Kevin, home with her children.
Pastor Ray looked to the cabbie. “What are we talking about here?”
“Uh, right, what are we talking about? Let’s see. A tire, actually two tires. The police station, and then there and there.” He ooked up from his notepad. “Nine hundred and eighty-four, fifty.”
“Is that dollars?” Pastor Ray gasped.
“No, Chinese yen. Of course it’s dollars!”
***
Ten minutes later Allyson’s van sped down their road and parked in their driveway.
Before the van even stopped fully, Allyson rushed out of it and raced to the house with Izzy right behind her. Sean and Marco followed slowly, most likely believing the nuclear fallout wouldn’t be that bad from a distance.
“I still don’t know what the problem is,” Izzy said, rushing across Allyson’s front porch after her.
“It’s because he’s a man-boy, Izzy!”
They barged in, and Allyson rushed forward. Then halfway across the living room she halted her steps.
Kevin was sitting on the couch with all of her kids curled up around him . . . asleep.
“Shh . . .” Kevin motioned for them to be quiet.
The place was clean, and Kevin was intently reading a children’s book. Allyson winced when she read the title,
Peter Pan.
Kevin glanced up at her. He cocked an eyebrow. “Allyson.”
She leveled her gaze. “Kevin.”
“This is such a great book,” he said, and she forced back a smile, realizing maybe there were many more things that weren’t as they seemed.
***
Last Saturday seemed like a dream. After the big adventure, Allyson had slept well, knowing that all her kids were in their nest—that Sean was at her side—and that Phoenix was at home with Bridget. And she’d slept well every day since.
It was Saturday again.
This
Saturday. The sun filtered in through the curtains, and Sean’s side of the bed was empty. She reached her hand over, smoothing the place where he’d slept, and then she rose. Maybe
next
Saturday she’d sleep in, but today . . . today she had a mission on her heart.
Allyson meandered downstairs. Yawning. Still waking up. Her hair was everywhere, and she brushed it out of her face.
When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Allyson paused. The house was clean—scrubbed down clean. And her computer was opened on the dining room table. A cup of coffee was waiting for her. She walked over to it, a smile filling her face. Sean had left a note.
“You DO have something to say.” She pulled off the sticky note and smiled, sitting down.
She typed . . .
When at first you don’t succeed . . .
Allyson paused, and then she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. The sun streaming through the dining room windows felt warm, but she felt even brighter inside.
When at first you don’t succeed . . . just sit down and eat cake! Then try again ;)
She breathed in a breath and then let it out.
So here goes . . .
My life needs to change for me to be happy.
That would be FALSE.
She looked to the calendar, and where she circled last Saturday she’d written: “I Survived!!!” Yes, she’d survived. That was an understatement. It was that day she’d learned to
thrive.
In truth, my life hasn’t changed much at all.
I have.
Allyson continued typing, and she thought about Brandon’s second attempt at breakfast for her. The eggs had been cooked this time, and flaked with white shells. The toast had been the color of the night sky . . . but she’d smiled and accepted it.
“Breakfast in bed, boom!” he’d said with a smile, and she realized she loved him immensely . . . not for what Brandon had done for her. Though his attempt had been noble, it hadn’t been successful. Not at all.
Her love, instead, had stemmed from who he was. Her child. And that was enough.
“Wow, thank you.” It was the only answer she could muster.
And, as she kept typing, she thought of Bailey. Bailey had painted Allyson’s toes and had gotten more on her toes than on her nails. Yet it was their time together—not the perfection of Bailey’s skills—that had mattered.
True. I’m not smiling all the time, but I’m smiling more, at my crazy, stressful, over-the-top kind of beautiful life.
FALSE. I am a failure. Yes, very, very false.
I’m not perfect. I make plenty of mistakes, but I’m right where God wants me to be, and He’s given me everything I need to be a mom.
Allyson paused her typing, and she looked over at Bailey’s marker drawings on the wall. They were just scribbles, but she loved them. She saw them as art . . . just as God saw her. Tears filled her eyes.
I’m a mess, but I’m a beautiful mess. I’m His masterpiece. And that’s enough.
She read over her words she’d written, and a happy sob escaped her lips. Would it be strange to dedicate this post to Bones, her unlikely muse who God brought to her at just the right time? The one person who dared to speak just the right words that she needed to hear?
And to think God would go to all those lengths just to put Bones in her path. And He’d created such an incredible series of “moments” so she’d be willing to listen. Allyson’s heart was full just at the thought of it.
***
The next time she went to the bowling alley, Allyson had a few more people in tow. When the man at the counter handed her a pair of saddle shoes, he’d given her three pairs of small ones too.
Ugly bowling shoes. But little ones, for the little ones who belonged to her. And that made them beautiful.
Sean took the boys, wrangling one under each arm, and she moved to help Bailey.
Allyson kneeled down and slid the bowling shoes on Bailey’s feet, tying them tight.
When she lifted her head, Bailey grabbed her cheeks. “Mommy!” She cupped Ally’s face and smiled. “I love you the most out of everybody!” Bailey squealed.
“And I love you.” Allyson leaned forward and kissed Bailey’s nose. Then Ally wrinkled up her nose, taking in the sweetness of her.
Then, content with the moment—with the love—Bailey jumped to her feet. “Gotta go bowl!”
“Okay, honey,” Allyson said as she watched Bailey scurry away.
Bailey raced out to join her brothers. They pranced around the lane, excited about their shoes. Excited to just be there together.
Allyson stood and approached Sean with a smile, holding out her phone. “Hon, you’ve got 235 followers!”
Her eyes widened, and she noticed she’d had more comments on her blog lately . . . but 235 followers. She tried to picture that many women in one room, and the thought overwhelmed her. Joy filled her heart.
He sat down at the small table, and she sat across from him.
She took her phone from his hand and looked at the stats. Sure enough the widget read 235.
“I have a blog.” Allyson grinned at him. “I am a mommy blogger.”
“Yes, you are.” Her husband looked at her with adoration in his gaze, and she knew she could never get enough of that.
Sean leaned forward, his gaze fixing on hers. “Wow, Ally, your job—”
“Is hard. I know,” she interrupted.
But instead of answering, Sean’s gaze narrowed, as if he still held words bottled up inside.
“That’s what you were gonna say, right?”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“Or not. Easy maybe? Or unnecessary?” Finally, she leaned forward, giving him her full attention. “Sorry for interrupting.” She softly tapped his arm. “What?”
He continued to fix his gaze on her, giving her one of those special looks that happened now and again when spouses truly appreciated each other.
“Important,” the word slipped off of Sean’s lips. “That’s what I was gonna say. Your job is important.”
Around him the sound of bowling pins crashed. Music picked up, growing louder. Children’s laughter joined in the noise, and the place smelled of French fries, but this was exactly where Allyson wanted to be. There was no place better than being here with him, with them.
She focused on that look in his eyes, and tears filled her own. Allyson told herself to remember that look. On days when she was exhausted and overwhelmed she’d remember this moment.
“And I know it’s hard,” Sean said, “but look at them.”
Allyson glanced over her shoulder, following Sean’s gaze. Beck was rolling a ball down the lane. Bailey stood next to him, dancing and twirling. And Brandon cheered on his siblings with a smile that flashed brighter than the disco light above.
She wiped a tear and then turned back to Sean. He had a knowing look on his face. “So worth it . . .” The words slipped from her lips, and emotion filled her throat. She tried to swallow it away, but she realized that was part of it too. These crazy feelings of love.
She turned back to Sean, and he met her gaze. “The hand that rocks the cradle,” he said, “is the hand that rules the world.”
“Where did you read that?” she asked him, surprised.
Sean shrugged. “On some blog somewhere.”
He put his hand on the table, halfway across the space that divided them. She smiled, and placed her hand in his. They lean toward each other and kissed.