Joshua looked at Maddie. “Yes. They do, don’t they.”
Alisha looked from Maddie to Joshua and narrowed her eyes. “Madeline, sweetheart, will you please excuse us for a few minutes?”
Maddie looked to Joshua, confused. Joshua nodded to her room. “She means can you leave us alone for a few minutes. Why don’t you go to your room and draw a picture for them to take home?”
“Okay!”
Alisha waited until the door closed before she turned on Joshua. “Are we hearing what I think we’re hearing? Is there violence going on in that apartment next door?”
Joshua sighed. “I suspect there might be, yes. I’ve already spoken with my boss at the shelter to get her advice about what to do—”
“What to
do
? I’ll tell you what to do, Joshua, you get out of this dump and away from these people before something happens to Maddie!”
“I don’t think anything’s going to happen to Maddie, Alisha. We almost never see them; they pretty much keep to themselves. Kim is a sweet girl who made a really bad choice, and I feel like God has put me here to help her get out of it.”
He regretted it the minute he said it. Even before the words were out of his mouth he knew he shouldn’t go there, but frustration rather than reason was driving his brain. To expect George and Alisha to understand compassion, much less the idea of submitting to God’s will, was like expecting Maddie to understand politics.
Alisha’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. You put some girl who’s too stupid to know she should leave a guy when he hits her ahead of your own child. She must be awfully pretty to turn your head so soon after you’ve lost your wife.”
“I figured there was something keeping you in this slum,” George said. “Makes sense now. That baby actually yours?”
Joshua closed his eyes, every muscle tensed and awaiting the order to fly into a rage. He couldn’t even pray. He just flung his anger heavenward in his mind. Sucking in a breath, he counted backwards from ten, then opened his eyes.
For a brief moment, God allowed him to see his in-laws for what they really were. Wounded parents who didn’t understand why their daughter was gone, who were angry at her—and him—for the path of treatment they chose, and who had no hope of ever seeing her again. To them, Maddie was the last link they had to their only child. To gain control of her would allow them the chance not only to protect that link, but to take another stab at parenting so they could fix the mistakes they’d made the first time—mistakes that led their daughter to become religious, to marry a man they deemed beneath her, and to shun the powers of Western medicine until it was too late.
Anger drained away as Joshua gained new insight into their plight. In its place grew pity and a bit of sympathy the size of a mustard seed. But it was enough.
“I understand what you’re trying to do.” His voice was quiet, controlled. George and Alisha looked wary. “I understand. I really do. I wish you had the hope I have of seeing Lara again. I know she tried to tell you about the belief we both shared—and still share—in Christ, and if you ever want to know more, I hope you’ll ask me, because I would love nothing more than to be able to share it with you. But until you do, your bitterness and anger isn’t going to go away. I know what’s going on, the lengths you’re willing to go to try to build a case against me so you can get Maddie, and I can’t help but feel so sorry for you.”
A blush crept up Alisha’s neck and into her face as her features became pinched with fury. George, on the other hand, seemed to age ten years in as many seconds, his shoulders sagging and his whole face drooping. Before they could speak, Joshua continued. “Despite what you’ve done, and what you’re trying to do, God will help me love you. But loving someone doesn’t mean letting them walk all over you. I need to protect both myself and Maddie from the poison you’re trying to spread. So I’ll ask you not to come over without calling first and asking if it’s okay. If you violate this request, or if you try to see Maddie behind my back, I
will
go to the police and file a complaint. And if you continue to spend your visits this way, then there will be no more visits. I know there are grandparents’ rights laws on the books here, but I am prepared to go to court to uphold that boundary. Are we clear?”
Alisha gasped, her face nearly purple. But George just turned to the door and put a hand on Alisha’s arm. “Come on,” he said. “We need to go.”
“Absolutely not! Didn’t you hear what he just said? The absolute
nerve
he had to accuse—”
“Alisha, let’s go.”
“—I will
not
go. No. Not until I’ve seen Madeline again. Madeline!”
“Alisha!” George’s shout startled Joshua as much as it did Alisha. Tears sprang to Alisha’s eyes and Joshua’s heart skipped a couple beats. “We’re going. Now.” He turned to Joshua. “Say good-bye to Madeline for us.”
Joshua watched in stunned silence as George ushered his weeping wife out the door. He recovered and shut the door behind him as Maddie came out of her room with a pout on her face. “Where did Gramma and Grampa go? Why didn’t they say good-bye?”
Joshua knelt and wrapped his arms around her. “They just had to go, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
He helped her back into her seat so they could finish their nowcold supper, his mouth making light conversation with Maddie while his heart prayed fervently for her grandparents, and for the chaos that lived next door.
D
EBBIE CHEWED A NAIL AS
she looked over the budget summary Joshua had emailed her.
It could be worse, right? I’m sure it could be worse.
She knew from the discussions they’d had over the last few months that things were going to be tight. Joshua had submitted grant proposals to four organizations so far, but none of them had panned out yet. She’d been so excited when all their open staff positions had finally been filled, until Joshua had reminded her that more staff meant the need for more money. Like most small nonprofits, the economy’s struggles had hit them hard.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another. At least I’m not doing the work of three people anymore.
Debbie didn’t feel like confronting her thoughts any further, so she grabbed her purse and coat and wrote “Running errands” on the message board outside her office.
She didn’t like running from things, but it was becoming a habit. Literally, like escaping her office with the excuse of errands, but figuratively in that she’d been avoiding the one person to whom she truly felt drawn.
A week after their first lunch a few months back, Joshua had asked her out again, this time for a purely personal dinner. She’d seen it coming but still didn’t know how to react, and in the end she pulled the work ethics card, saying it wouldn’t be right given their professional relationship. But after the gentle rebuff, she’d agonized over the decision and eventually come to regret it.
A month later they went out for lunch again, this time to discuss the shelter’s operating budget. Their conversation had come easily, and she was shocked to see they’d been gone nearly three hours when they finally packed up to go back to the shelter. And just as before, a week after their lunch, Joshua had asked her out to dinner again. Once again she’d made up an excuse that left her aching inside.
Debbie drove to the bank, then to city hall, taking care of errands that really did need running, then sat in her car hating herself. She was a coward, plain and simple. She couldn’t bring herself to say yes to Joshua because she was afraid she’d screw that up too, but unlike all the other men she’d dated, he sparked her in a way that made her afraid to hurt him—or worse, to lose him. It wasn’t just because he’d already lost his wife, or then she’d have to face him every day at work. It was because she’d never felt so strongly about a man, especially one she barely knew. It made her want to protect him, and right now, that meant protecting him from her.
Because the truth of it was, men weren’t the only ones she had a hard time trusting. She also couldn’t trust herself. It had been almost five years, and she still felt the hurt as freshly now as she had then. She’d been dating Charlie for almost a year when she’d discovered he was married.
Song after song played on the radio, and three commercial breaks later she began to feel guilty for being gone for so long. She took the long way back to the shelter and snuck back to her office to avoid Joshua. Her stealth didn’t pay off like she’d hoped, however.
“Come in,” she called when a knock sounded on her door.
Joshua opened the door halfway and leaned in from the hall. “Hey—I thought I saw your car in the lot.” Joshua was smiling, but it quickly faded. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.” She motioned to the chair and he sat down without relaxing. “I heard it again last night. The baby was crying and Kim was screaming and…” He shook his head. “Maddie heard it too. Turns out she’s heard it before, but she thinks it’s the television. And my in-laws heard it too, but that’s a whole different story that I can’t get into without risking punching a hole in the wall, so…” He shrugged. “I told you what happened when I tried to talk to her about leaving, right?”
Debbie nodded. It was a common consequence for domestic abuse victims, being punished for talking to someone the abuser viewed as a threat, especially when that person was trying to pull the victim away. She’d heard dozens of similar stories from victims themselves, but she knew it was new territory for Joshua. He didn’t have the emotional callouses she did. “Don’t blame yourself. You did what you could. But you’ve got to remember that until she wants to get out, she’s not likely to acknowledge that she’s even in danger. And once she reaches that stage, chances are she’ll find a way out. It sounds like you’ve built a good relationship with her, shallow though it may be. She’ll remember you when she’s ready.”
He nodded, eyes focused on the middle distance. “I know you’re right, but it’s still hard.” He sighed and stood. “Thanks for letting me talk.”
“Anytime.”
He smiled with a sparkle in his eyes. “I’m usually pretty chatty at dinner. And Maddie gets tired of hearing me talk. Any chance of you standing in for her, say this Friday?”
She let out a laugh. “You are persistent.”
He spread his hands, beseeching. “A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”
She paused, not wanting to answer on auto-pilot. A little voice nudged her.
Say yes. Come on. Say yes.
She tried, but she couldn’t muster the courage to do it. “Thanks, Joshua. But not this time.”
He stood and nodded. “No problem. But that persistence thing is sort of a God-given gift, so…” He grinned and walked to the door. “Keep working on those excuses. I won’t accept the same one twice.”
He closed the door behind him. Debbie slumped in her seat. She had to get cracking—the pile in her inbox was two inches deep, she had twelve new emails, and she had to start brainstorming some more excuses before it was too late.
Kim’s head was pounding and her arms felt like they were going to fall off. Anne hadn’t stopped crying in two hours, not even for a minute, and yet somehow she had the energy to cry louder when Kim tried to put her down. So Kim continued to walk the nursery, corner to corner and back, bouncing and shushing and begging the baby to be quiet.
Through the wall she could hear the blaring television in the living room. Rick’s idea of being helpful was keeping to himself and turning up the TV so he could hear it over Anne’s cries. Kim tried not to be resentful—he was a man, after all, and men weren’t as attuned to the needs of their babies as mothers were. Or were supposed to be. She didn’t have any idea what was wrong herself.
Kim sang every song that came into her head, lullaby or not. She changed her route around the room to give them both some variety. She tried showing Anne the view out the window, tried winding up the mobile that hung above the crib, checked her diaper again, tried to nurse her again. And then, inexplicably, she began to calm down. Kim collapsed in the desk chair, singing softly and nursing her again, and watched as Anne’s eyelids drooped and finally closed.
She bit back the cries of relief that bubbled from her gut, afraid to do anything that might wake her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and whispered “Thank you” to the sleeping bundle in her arms.
The thought of holding Anne for her entire nap was enticing, but Kim didn’t think her arms would last much longer. She waited as long as she could, then stood in slow motion and glided to the crib. Arms trembling, she lowered Anne to the mattress, then fled the room before she could do anything to jeopardize the miracle.
Kim made a beeline for the bedroom, shut the door gently behind her, then collapsed on the bed, weeping. She was so tired. Her entire upper body was in constant pain from the strain of holding Anne through so many crying spells. Her breasts ached from the weight of the milk that flooded them to overflowing, and her emotions bubbled raw beneath the surface, ready to go haywire at the slightest provocation.
And Rick just sat in the living room watching TV.
Kim sat up, gulping cleansing breaths and trying to get a grip. She shouldn’t think badly of him; this was an adjustment for him too. She hadn’t been able to make much for dinner the last few days, and every time the baby cried at night it woke him too. Granted, he got to go back to sleep, but he also had to go to work in the morning—she at least could stay in her pajamas all day and nap with Anne. Not that she did—there was too much else to do to keep the place the way Rick liked it, laundry and dishes and cooking and cleaning—but at least the option was there.
She splashed cold water on her face and fixed her ponytail before venturing back into the living room. Rick was snoring on the couch. Kim tiptoed to the kitchen and pulled cereal from the top of the fridge. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was already one in the afternoon. Snack in hand, she sat at the table and wolfed it down for fear Anne would awaken before she finished.
Rick woke when the dishwasher door got away from her and banged shut. “Thanks a lot,” he said, standing from the sofa. “I finally get a nap and you wake me up.”
“I’m sorry, it was an accident, believe me. The last thing I want is for anyone to wake up.” Her lip began to tremble. “It took over two hours for her to fall asleep. I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Rick opened the fridge and pulled out a soda. “How long is she gonna sleep?”
“I have no idea. Two hours? Twenty minutes?”
“Alright, well—I’m going to the store. I’ll only be gone an hour. It’s not like there’s anything I can do if she wakes up.”
Kim sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Have fun.”
She felt guilty for being jealous, but she hadn’t been out of the house since coming home with the baby, and the thought of wandering aimlessly down grocery aisles had never sounded so heavenly. She watched Rick leave, then flopped onto the sofa and turned on the television and triggered the guide to see what was on.
The date was in the upper corner, and she did a double-take before it set in. Tomorrow was her birthday. How could she have lost track of time like that? Besides last year, it had never been a very important day, but she’d still remembered it and marked it in her own heart even though no one else had noticed. To think the day could have passed without her even remembering!
A slow smile spread across her face. Rick never went to the store for more than twenty minutes, yet he said he’d be gone an hour. He was buying her a present, she just knew it. The thought warmed her soul and made up for the last few days of frustration with him.
Anne slept for an hour, then woke crying once more. Nursing quieted her down, though, and once she was content Kim set her in the corner of the sofa and simply stared. When she wasn’t screaming at the top of her little lungs, she was beautiful. Her skin was flawless, her mouth a perfect bow. Her little arms and legs were still scrawny, but her face was filling out and the rest of her was not quite so wrinkly.
“I’m trying, Anne, I really am,” she said, stroking her daughter’s balled-up fist with her finger. “I sure wish I knew why you cried, though.”
Anne began to fuss again, so Kim picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, then laid down on the bed and placed Anne on her chest. Cradling the baby against her, Kim began to sing to her again, and soon they were both asleep.
When the front door shut, both Kim and the baby woke with a start. Kim carried her to the living room and found Rick unloading a dozen bags of food into the pantry and fridge. “Thanks for picking all that up,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He held up a package of frozen garlic bread. “Let’s do spaghetti sometime this week.”
“Sure.” Kim scanned the counter and bags for signs of her gift, curious to see what it was but not really wanting to find it. She’d had so few gifts in her life, she didn’t want to ruin this one. He must have hidden it as soon as he’d gotten in, because she didn’t see it anywhere. Pleased at the thought of all the work he’d gone through for her, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Why don’t I make that spaghetti tonight?”
“Sure, that sounds great.” He finished putting the food away and stuffed the bags in the trash. “Let me know when it’s ready, alright?” He walked away to the couch and sat down, but this time Kim didn’t mind.
K
IM AWOKE IN THE MORNING
to Anne crying, snow falling, and Rick still snoring beside her.
Happy birthday to me!
One-quarter of a century gone, hopefully a couple more still to go. “Hard to imagine you turning twenty-five someday,” she said to Anne as she nursed her on the sofa. “Hard to imagine you even turning one!”
As she changed Anne’s diaper, Kim recounted the importance of the day for her captive audience. “Today is Mommy’s birthday. No one ever did anything for my birthday when I was little, but I promise your birthdays will have hundreds of balloons and dozens of little friends and a cake with extra frosting. If you turn out to be a frosting person, that is. Though last year I did have a pretty fun birthday. In fact, that’s when I met your daddy. So today is actually our anniversary too!”
It took a minute for her words to sink in. “Oh no! It’s our anniversary and I don’t have anything to give him!” She finished Anne’s diaper change with as much speed as she could muster on four hours’ sleep, then grabbed some paper off the printer and three colored pens from the desk drawer, the only artlike supplies she could find. She set Anne back in her crib and turned on the mobile, then sat at the desk and thought for a moment before putting pen to paper. “Daddy is an artist,” she narrated to Anne, “so he’ll probably think my drawing is pretty bad. But oh well, what choice do I have?” She sketched and crafted, and a few minutes later she set down her pen with a self-depreciating laugh. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”
With another piece of paper she made an envelope, then sealed the card inside with tape and set it on the table. “We’ll make Daddy pancakes for breakfast,” she said to Anne, whom she cradled in one arm as she puttered around the kitchen. “He’ll be up in about half an hour, and then we’ll all have breakfast together.”
Kim had the batter ready to pour forty minutes later, but still Rick was sleeping. An hour later he was still snoring away, and Kim was famished. She gave up on the idea of breakfast together and started a few pancakes for herself, dotting them with chocolate chips. She was just popping the last bite in her mouth when Rick staggered out of the bedroom.
“Hi sweetheart,” she said through a mouthful of food. “I’m making pancakes; can I get you some? I was going to wait and eat with you but I just got too hungry.”
Rick waved a hand vaguely. “Yeah, sure.” He nodded to the envelope on the table. “What’s that?”
“Open it and see.”
Rick sat down and pulled open the envelope, then read the card. “Oh, it is our anniversary, isn’t it?”
She kissed him on the cheek. “A whole year ago, can you believe it? Think how much we packed into that year!”
“Yeah, a lot, huh?” He tossed the card on the table. “Yeah, I forgot all about that, Kim. Sorry.”
Kim’s good mood slipped a notch. “Oh—that’s alright.” She watched him, waiting for him to bring up the fact that he’d remembered her birthday.
After a moment he looked up at her. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Oh—no reason, sorry.” She went into the kitchen to start the pancakes. A niggling fear was growing in the pit of her stomach.
No, no, he remembered
—
just give him some time. He’s probably got some plan.
She made the pancakes. He ate them. He left to shower, and when he was done she did the same. Lunch came and went, the dinner dishes were in the sink, and finally, as she sat scrubbing a pot, she said, “Okay, you’re totally killing me here. You did remember it’s my birthday, right?”
Rick turned around on the couch with a sheepish look on his face. “Aw man, no, I forgot.”
The emotions that sat so close to the surface these days burst forth like a volcano. “You forgot? Even when I reminded you it was the anniversary of when we met, which was
on my birthday,
you still didn’t remember? You mean you seriously shopped for an hour at the grocery store?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you didn’t remember!”
Rick rolled his eyes as he stood. “It’s been a long week; give me a break.”
“Give
you
a break? It’s been a long week for
you?
I’m the one who gave birth less than a month ago! I’m the one who’s up a million times a night! I’m the one that carries her for hours on end when she’s screaming her head off. And it’s been a long week for
you
!”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, about that birth and that baby—who’s paying for those? Consider that your present, Kim. I’ve been a little busy working overtime trying to pay off your debt.”
Kim was livid. “
My
debt? Last time I checked it takes two to make a baby. Not that you care about her—guess you’re even more like your dad than I thought.” She ended her tirade with a staccatoflung epithet that earned her a slap on the face. Without pausing to think, she slapped him back.
The beat of silence that followed was deafening. Then Kim gasped out the breath she’d been holding. “Rick, I’m sorry—”
His face darkened and she knew what she was in for. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.
K
IM SAT IN THE DESK CHAIR
in the nursery, unaware of the tears that still coursed down her face. Anne was crying as well, lying in the crib where Kim had placed her when Rick had left the apartment. She tried to calm herself, tried to rein in her anger, reminding herself that this was what she deserved and she had no one to blame but herself. It was the same mantra she chanted after every time Rick hit her. But it was getting harder and harder to believe.
When would her penance be paid? How long would she have to endure this? Years, decades—would she be crying in a room alone somewhere when she was fifty, nursing a cracked rib or a split lip or worse? How much did it take to break even, for the scales to balance and finally tip in her favor?
When she finally had control of herself, she picked up the baby, ignoring the protests from her aching muscles and new bruises, and cradled her against her chest. “Shhh, it’s okay. Mama’s okay, baby. Hush now.” She began to nurse her, the only almost-foolproof way of calming her, and stroked her head. “You’re so lucky, Anne,” she whispered. “You have a mama who’s going to make sure you don’t turn out the way she did. You’ll never be in this position, I promise. You’ll never have to pay the price I have to pay because you’ll never make the mistakes I’ve made.”
The tears she thought she’d finished crying began to flow again.
I just wish I knew how long this was going to last. I thought I could bear it forever, but I can’t. Maybe if I knew how long it was going to be, I could do it, but now…
As though sharing her pain, the baby began to cry again. Kim rocked as she murmured soothing, empty promises and prayed for an end to her misery.