Thankful (20 page)

For at least an hour, Judith had considered talking to her parents about everything that Bernie had told her. She'd actually thought about asking everyone in the family to come over and help her decide what to do. Though they might get excited and talk too much, they were also level-headed. Judith knew she would respect their opinions, especially Joshua's.

Most likely, they would offer good advice as well.

But in the end, she decided against getting everyone involved. Just like with their decision about adoption and agreeing to being foster parents, she knew the right answers could only come from Ben and herself.

What they were going through was so difficult, so personal, she didn't know if she had the strength to pretend she was braver and more hopeful than she was.

This was also a time to rely on the Lord's wisdom as well. He had led her and Ben to finally admit their love for each other. Actually, He'd led all of them through some very difficult times, holding them securely, letting them lean on Him when it felt as if they couldn't stand easily on their own two feet.

This felt like another time when the Lord was simply waiting for her to reach out to Him.

And so she prayed. She prayed and talked to God while holding a sleeping James.

Then, at last, she sat across from her husband and asked his advice with both an open mind and open heart.

“I was wondering when you were going to want to talk about things,” Ben said when she'd finally broached the subject.

“I've been praying. Trying to find the right words. And praying for two open ears, too,” she added with a wry smile.

Ben smiled gently. “Hearing that makes me feel better. I am mighty glad you have been praying so much.”

“Because you knew I needed His help?”

“Because I knew we needed all the help we could get. So, what do you think,
mein lieb
?”

Feeling suddenly free, as if nothing she said would be judged or discounted, she began to talk. “I'm not sure. One minute I feel like we need to visit Kendra at the prison. The next minute I'm too afraid.”

“What are you afraid of? Is it visiting a prison?”

“That's part of it. Going to a women's prison scares me. But that's not what I keep thinking about.” Knowing she couldn't keep her worst fears a secret anymore, she said, “So far, I've been able to pretend that James's mom is just a stranger. A person who gave birth to him, but almost didn't matter.” She winced. Even to her ears, her words sounded cruel.

“What I'm trying to say is that I'm afraid when we take James to see her, she's going to realize she made a mistake and won't want us. And I'll realize that I really am only a temporary person in his life.”

“Actually, I've been thinking a lot of the same things. It was one thing when Bernie simply showed up with James. But now? Now we're going to be reaching out to Kendra—and asking for her to trust us. I don't want to say or do the wrong thing.”

“I have even wondered what's going to happen if James doesn't like us anymore. Even though I know it's silly, I'm afraid he'll remember her and we'll seem like strangers to him.” She bit her lip. “I'm sorry. I know I sound selfish.”

Ben shook his head. “
Nee
, Judith. You sound honest. And that, I think, is how we need to be. I'm glad we're talking about everything. Good or bad, it needs to be said.”

They continued their conversation, weighing options and fears and hopes all afternoon and long into the evening. They discussed their concerns as they were feeding and later bathing James.

And continued to discuss Bernie's advice while cleaning the kitchen and cooking supper.

Finally, they pushed each other to make a decision when Judith was rocking James to sleep in her mother's rocking chair. “It's time,” Ben finally said. “We need to make a decision.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to do? Meet with the aunts or visit Kendra?”

With a glance over her shoulder at the oak clock that her parents had given them on their first wedding anniversary, she said, “You tell me what you think first. ”

Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on the table. “All right, here goes. Something tells me that we should pay a visit to Kendra first. Initially, I thought it would be easier to simply visit with Kendra's sisters, but I don't think that's the right thing to do.

She exhaled in relief. “I was thinking the same thing. After all, James is her baby. Even though she is in prison, she is still his mother. I don't think that bond can ever be broken.”

“What Kendra wants should matter the most. And as much as it pains me to say it, Bernie did say the court would listen to Kendra's wishes first. I just hope we make a good impression with her.”

“All we can be is ourselves, Judith,” Ben reminded her.

“But if Kendra doesn't like us, she could ask her sisters to care for James.”

“If that happens, we'll need to abide by that. We need to give all our doubts up to God, Judith.” Ben walked to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don't forget, He knows what is best for the baby.”

“I know you are right.” She sighed as she rested her head against her side.

The decision had been made. They would pay Kendra a visit, be themselves, and hope for the best.

And everything else? It was in the Lord's hands.

A
den wasn't sure why, but grilled ham and cheese sandwiches always tasted better at one in the morning.

For most of his life he'd been an erratic sleeper. He couldn't remember the last time he'd fallen asleep in the evening and didn't open his eyes until morning.

The only thing that really helped was a nighttime snack. When he was little, he'd become quite adept at sneaking out of his room, trundling down the hall, and snacking on an apple or a handful of cookies. If his parents ever suspected his nighttime wanderings, they never said.

Martha Kempf, on the other hand, had caught on right away. She'd followed him into the kitchen during his third foray into her pantry, practically scaring him out of his pants in the process.

But after learning that he was merely hungry and not upset, she'd taken to making sure he had all of his favorite midnight snacks on hand.

Sometime around his fourteenth year, he'd developed a passion for grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and the craving had stuck. Before long he'd become a master at creeping into the kitchen, lighting the small kerosene lamp that Martha always set out for him, and quickly and competently preparing his favorite treat.

There was a method to his madness. Both slices of bread had to be wheat. Brown mustard needed to coat one of them. Next he would put on two slices of white cheddar from Heini's cheese shop—sliced thin, thank you very much. Last he added two slices of smoked ham. When everything was just so, he would melt butter in Martha's favorite cast-iron pan, then cook his sandwich until it was crispy and perfectly toasted. Cutting the sandwich into fourths was his finishing touch.

Then he'd pour himself a tall glass of cold milk and dig in, enjoying the silence of the big house. Enjoying the opportunity to eat his treat completely by himself.

Joe had once tried to talk to him about his unusual habit. He'd even gone so far as to suggest that it wasn't natural.

Aden agreed.

But still, at least two or three times a week, he awoke hungry. When he got older, and was mature enough to analyze it, Aden figured that maybe these late-night sandwich sessions were his way of gaining control in his life. He'd lived most of his life dealing with the consequences of everyone else's actions. First, his parents had been too busy for him. Then they'd died, leaving him feeling completely lost and alone.

Then he'd gone from being an only child to the adopted one in a family with five children.

And then, of course, there was the vivid memory of Christina falling through the ice. He still dreamed about it, even after all these years. He doubted he'd ever completely forget the panic he'd felt when he'd gazed into the dark water and couldn't find her.

He thought about all of this as he walked down the hall just after one in the morning, his stomach and his head leading him to the kitchen. Just like always.

Until he realized the kerosene lantern was already lit.

Curious, Aden picked up his pace, only to come up short when he discovered who was already sitting at the kitchen table.

Christina looked up when he entered. “Ah. I was just sitting here, wondering if you were going to get up to cook tonight.”

“I was planning on it,” he murmured, surprised that she was acting as if her being up was a usual occurrence, which it definitely was not. “Why are you up? Are you sick?”

She shrugged. “I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep.”

“So you decided to sit in here at the table?”

“Call me crazy, but I'd rather sit here in the light than next to Treva in the dark. There are only so many hours I can lay idly while listening to my sister snore.”

He grinned. “I dare you to tell Treva she snores.”

“I dare you!”

“No way. I value my life.”

They shared a smile. His insides warmed as he realized how much he was going to miss living in the same house as Christina. They'd always been able to tease and joke with each other.

He was about to tease her some more when he noticed the shadows under her eyes. And realized what had actually woke her. A slow, sinking feeling settled in his gut and held on tight. “Did you have another nightmare tonight?”

After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

“There's no reason to. It was the same dream I always have.”

“The one about us skating?”

“
Jah
. We skate, I trip. Then I fall through the ice.”

“And what happened next?”

“You know what happens next.” She grimaced. “Then I can't breathe.”

There was such pain in her eyes, he yearned to take her in his arms and hold her tight. “But then I pull you out, right?”

She shook her head. “That's not what happens in my dreams. In my dreams I don't get free.”

It made no sense but he was offended. “Why in the world don't I help you in your dreams? I did when it happened.”

“I don't know. Maybe it's because I always panic in my dreams.”

Quietly, he asked, “What happens next in your dream?”

She hung her head, her long hair sliding along her cheek and half covering her face. “Then, just as I'm about to die, I wake up.”

“We need to do something about this, Christina. You shouldn't be dreaming such things. It's unhealthy.”

“Hush. You and I both know that there's not much I can do. A person can't help one's dreams, right?”

Needing to touch her, he reached out and lifted her chin with his fingers. “You okay now?”

“I'm fine.”

Moving to the refrigerator, he said, “Want a sandwich?”

“I do, if you're making grilled cheese.”

“What else would I be making?” he joked. Pulling out his favorite jar of brown mustard, he said, “Do you want mustard and ham?”

“Of course. There's only one way to eat it, right?”

“Right.” Happy to have something to do with his hands, he began pulling out everything he needed. “So what's going on with that farmer? With Christy?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, Aden. Couldn't you at least try to say his name in a nice way? You pronounce his name like it's a curse word.”

“I don't believe you've ever heard me curse.”

“Oh, stop. You know what I mean.”

“Sorry. I can't help myself. I didn't like him.”

“Of course you didn't like him. You don't even know him.”

He stopped slathering butter on one of the slices of bread he'd just sliced long enough to point out the obvious. “You don't know him either, Christina.”

She rolled her eyes. “That is exactly why I was walking with him. So I could get to know him. As I tried to tell you. Several times.”

“Well, he seemed like a jerk.”

“If he did, he was in good company.”

“Ouch. That's a little harsh, don't you think?”

“Maybe. Or maybe not.” She slumped. “Aden, I'll be surprised if he ever comes back to the Sugarcreek Inn. I think you put him off with your scowl.”

He'd never admit it aloud, but he was pleased about that. Pulling out a fresh knife, he flipped over two of the slices of bread and began coating them with mustard. “I hope he was taken aback. He was being far too familiar with you, Christina. If he really liked you, he should have asked to call on you here. He should have wanted you to be safe and happy here. With your family looking over you.”

“Oh, please.”

Okay. He had to admit that he did sound a bit over-the top. But he was right. “Christy, there's nothing wrong with showing your parents respect.”

“My parents were fine with his invitation. Or have you forgotten that you heard about my exciting, dangerous walk from my mother?”

“I haven't forgotten. But, still,” he added, because he was trying to make a point. Even though he'd kind of forgotten what his point was.

Other than he didn't want Christina being courted by anyone.

“But still.” She scoffed. “Like that means anything. But like I said, I probably won't see him again anyway.”

“Gut.”
He was glad he was facing the stove now so that she couldn't see his smile. Feeling mildly triumphant, he neatly placed the two sandwiches in the heated skillet.

With a grunt of impatience, Christina jumped to her feet and stomped to his side. Of course, her bare feet and fuzzy ivory-colored robe kind of ruined her obvious attempt to appear tough.

Actually, she looked a whole lot more like an angry angel than a fierce soul to be reckoned with. When she moved closer, smelling like she always did of vanilla and fresh rain, he ached to pull her into his arms and kiss her again.