Season of Blessing (2 page)

C
HAPTER

Two

Brenda Dodd
wiped the white paint off of her hands and threw the rag across the plywood limousine. She hit Daniel—her sixteen-year-old—in the face.

“No fair! I wasn't looking.”

He flung it across the prop and hit Leah across the forehead. She slung it at Rachel, her twin sister, leaving a smudge of paint across her cheek. Rachel tossed it at Joseph.

Preoccupied, twelve-year-old Joseph hardly noticed. He stood in front of his father, watching him sand the steering wheel that would go inside the car. “It seems like an awful lot of work to go to, Dad, if you're not even going to come to church and watch the play Wednesday night.”

Brenda's smile faded, and she looked at her husband. David had that tight, shut-down look that he got whenever the subject of church came up.

“I don't mind.”

“But, Dad, I'm the star. I play the Good Samaritan who drives into town in his limousine and helps the guy who got mugged. How can you not want to see that?”

David cleared his throat. A cool breeze blew through their yard, ruffling his wavy red hair, but he still had a thin sheen of sweat above his lip. “Son, you know how I feel about church.”

“I know, Dad, but it's not like something terrible will happen to you if you come.”

“I'm not a hypocrite.”

“But I want you to see me. I've practiced so hard. And I'm good, aren't I, Mom?”

Brenda knew better than to get involved, but she couldn't let her child down. “He is good, David.”

“It's not that he's good.” Fourteen-year-old Leah slopped more paint on her shorts and bare legs than she did on the car. “It's just that he's such a ham. He's a terrible show-off.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.” Rachel came to sit beside Leah. “I thought they were going to have to pry that microphone out of your hand the other night at rehearsal. They wanted you to sing one verse, but you sang three.”

Joseph snickered. “Hey, I felt moved by the Holy Spirit, okay?”

Rachel laughed. “Yeah, moved to stand in the limelight just a little longer.”

“Okay, guys.” Brenda got up and went to the other paint can sitting on the picnic table. “Leave Joseph alone. He's a talented performer, which is why he was chosen to play the Good Samaritan.”

Joseph struck a pose. “And Dad isn't even going to see.”

“Enough, Joseph.” David sanded the steering wheel, blew the sawdust off.

Joseph shrugged and grabbed a paintbrush and stuck it in the black paint.

Brenda winced as he dripped it across the lawn. “This paint's for the windows, Joseph, and we might not have enough. Be careful not to let it drip.”

“I won't.” With great care, he began to outline the windows. “But really, Dad. I know you don't want to come to church because you don't believe in Jesus, but I don't see why you couldn't just fake it every now and then.”

David sanded harder. “I don't fake things, Joseph. You don't fake your feelings just to please other people.”

“But
why
don't you believe? I mean, it's just so obvious to me.”

David shot Brenda a look. “Joseph, could we drop it?”

“But why, Dad? You always say that we should ask questions when we don't understand.”

Daniel turned to see his father's reaction. Rachel and Leah stopped painting. Brenda said a silent prayer that their son's probing would make David think. If anyone in the family could get away with questions like these, Joseph could.

David set the steering wheel down. He looked at Joseph, then at Leah, Rachel, and Daniel.

“Okay, here's the thing.” He sat down on the bench and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Your mother is a believer, and I'm not. I'm a facts kind of guy. She's more…spiritual. Ever since she became a Christian a few years into our marriage, I've agreed that she can raise you guys in church. I figure if she's wrong, it doesn't hurt anything. And you guys seem to like it. But ever since I was a kid, I've hated church. It's just a personal thing.”

That didn't satisfy Joseph. “But you wouldn't hate our church. It's a good church.”

“I'm sure it is.”

Brenda knew that David would never tell them that he'd been the son of a preacher who had run off with the church organist, or how the church had thrown his mother and him out of the parsonage—leaving them homeless—in order to take a moral stand against the divorce that resulted. He would never tell the children how the church members had insisted that he was demon-possessed when his anger about his broken family surfaced. His father had died with a shipwrecked faith, and just five years ago, his mother died without ever forgiving his father—or the church.

Brenda didn't blame David for being bitter about the church.

“But, Dad, if you're a facts man, then how come you can't see the true facts? It wasn't so long ago that I was dying, and Jesus healed me. Now I'm perfect,” Joseph said.

“Perfect?” Leah grunted. “Get real.”

“I mean my body is perfect. I'm healthy and normal, except for all the medicine I have to take. But I was dying, Dad. God didn't have to give me a heart transplant, but he did.”

David met Brenda's eyes again. She knew Joseph had put him in a tight spot. They had agreed that he would never denigrate the children's belief in God. But how could he defend his own beliefs without doing that?

“Isn't that proof, Dad?” Joseph demanded. David swallowed. “To some people it is.”

“But not to you?” He went back to the paint can and got more paint on his brush. “Dad, it's like this. You know how I was dying, and I couldn't be healed without a heart transplant? Somebody had to die so I could live?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that's a lot like what happened with God. We were all dying, and we had no hope. So Jesus came and died in our place, so that we could have a new heart and a new spirit. So that we could live.”

“I know how it works, Joseph.” David's aggravation shone clearly on his face.

“But how could you not want to live?”

David gazed down at his son. “I think I am living, son. Don't we have a good life?”

“Well, yeah, but it's not just this life that you have to consider.”

Brenda suppressed her smile and caught a black drip cutting down through the white paint. She doubted David had ever had the gospel presented to him in such a clear way. She knew that seeds had been sown, whether they took root or not.

Joseph was getting sloppier with his painting, but Brenda didn't dare interrupt. His words to his father hit dead center.

David reached out and tousled Joseph's hair. “I appreciate your concern, son. I really do. And I'm proud of you for being able to make your case that way. Someday you'll probably be a lawyer. If I ever have to face a judge, it's you I'd want speaking for me.”

Joseph's face betrayed his sorrow as he looked up at his father. “When you face the Judge, Dad, I won't be with you. You'll have to answer him for yourself.”

C
HAPTER

Three

Up.…down…
up.…down…”

Tory Sullivan mouthed the words with Melissa, the physical therapist, as she moved Hannah's legs in an effort to tone her weak muscles. The small woman sitting on the classroom floor had become like a member of their family, ever since Hannah had been born with Down's Syndrome. Now, at twenty-two months, the child was just beginning to make the effort to stand on her own. Watching the other Down's babies at the Breezewood Development Center had been an encouragement to Tory, reminding her that these children did develop, even if they did it slowly.

But the struggle didn't get easier for Tory. A former Miss Tennessee, she had always expected near perfection from herself and her family. Her home was immaculate and decorated like something out of
House and Garden
. Brittany, her ten-year-old, was into frills and curls, ribbons and lace, just as Tory had been at her age. Eight-year-old Spencer was a textbook boy—athletic, outgoing, and definite leadership material, even if he was sometimes a handful.

And then there was Hannah. It was almost like the Lord had declared Hannah the one to be imperfect in the Sullivan house-hold, just to remind her that not everything could line up under her checklist of expectations. Everything didn't have order and logic. God's order often came without explanation.

Hannah had taught Tory to lean on God more than she ever had before…to lower her expectations…to exult in the unexpected.

Still she longed to know that Hannah would walk, talk, learn…That she would live a happy life without daily battles to function…That she would develop and grow and progress to her full potential.

The truth was, she wanted everything for Hannah that she wanted for her other two children. But Hannah had challenges that Spencer and Brittany would never have. She always would. But Tory considered it a miracle that the baby had come this far when just a few months ago she hadn't believed she would ever even sit up alone. She knew the walking wouldn't come for a while yet, maybe even a year or two, but the fact that Hannah tried to pull up now gave her great hope.

A knock sounded on the classroom door, and Mary Ann Shelton, the director of the school, stuck her head in. “What are you guys doing here so late? It's after five.”

“My fault,” Melissa said. “I had a dentist appointment this afternoon and had to reschedule Hannah.”

Mary Ann came into the room. “I'm just glad I ran into you, Tory. I was going to call you. Can I talk to you in my office for a minute?”

Tory smirked at Melissa as she got up from the floor and dusted off her pants. “Oh, boy. Hannah hasn't been cutting class again, has she? Is that why I'm being called to the principal's office?”

Mary Ann laughed. “No, I just wanted to talk to you about a job we've had that just came open.”

Tory couldn't imagine what a job opening had to do with her. Mary Ann knew that raising Hannah took up every moment of her time.

But the director led her into her office and sat down behind her desk. Tory sank onto the plush easy chair, feeling as if she had forgotten something important. She realized she had never been in here without Hannah on her lap.

“So what's this about a job?” Tory asked.

Mary Ann's eyes inspired excitement, whether she talked about school tuition or the janitorial staff. “We've had an opening for a part-time teacher's assistant in the older children's class, ages six to nine, and I was thinking that maybe you would be interested.”

Tory frowned. “Oh, I don't know, Mary Ann. I haven't really thought about getting a job. I'm so busy at home with Hannah.”

“Well, that's just it.” Mary Ann set her hands palms-down on the desk. “You could bring Hannah with you and she could play in the nursery while you work with the older kids. I thought it would be an encouragement for you to see how these older children are learning. And I can tell from watching you with Hannah that you'd be a godsend for these children as well.”

Tory had never considered working with the older kids, but the truth was, she spent a lot of time standing outside the door of that classroom, peering through the window at those older kids who could walk and dance and talk and sing.

“You wouldn't have to do any planning or preparation. Linda, our teacher in that room, would do all that. You'd just help two mornings a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays. I've gotten another parent to commit to three mornings, and we have a couple of teenagers who help in the afternoons.”

“Two mornings a week,” Tory repeated. “That wouldn't be so bad. Might even be fun.”

“And of course, it wouldn't interfere with Hannah's class.” Mary Ann caught her breath. “Oh, I forgot. It pays too. I don't want you to think it's a volunteer position. And it might be good for Hannah to play with some of the other babies without you around. I don't mean that in a bad way. It's wonderful to have you there. I wish we had more mothers as involved as you. I'm just saying that maybe she needs to start socializing a little and learning to separate from you.”

Tory knew that was true. Even now she had a hard time leaving Hannah with a baby-sitter, even at church.

“I'll need to think about it.” She got up, anxious to get back to the child. “I need to talk to Barry and pray about it some. Can I get back to you?”

“Sure,” Mary Ann said. “Take your time. I will need to hire someone by the end of August. But you were my first choice.”

Tory ran the possibilities through her mind as she drove home that evening, and wondered if taking the job would indeed be good for everyone involved.