A Quiet Strength Page 9
Virginia lifted her head to gaze again at her new surroundings. “Do you suppose you might find time tomorrow to get us a Christmas tree?”
Jonathan nodded. “Where’re you going to put it?”
“In the corner by the window.”
“Got any do-bobs for it?”
“Do-bobs?”
“You know. To hang on it. Fancy it up.”
“Decorations? No. But I’ll make some.”
“That’d be nice. But it’s only three days till Christmas.”
“Oh, I’ll manage,” she said lightly. Then, “I wish … I wish we hadn’t promised the folks that we’d have Christmas with them. It would be fun to have it here, in our new house.”
“Guess we’ll have lots of Christmases here.”
Virginia nodded. Lots of Christmases. Their whole life stretched before them with open-ended promise.
Jonathan set aside his empty mug. “Do you have to wash it up tonight?” he asked Virginia.
She shook her head slowly, puzzled at his question. “It can wait for morning.”
“Good.”
He stood to his feet. “ ’Cause I’m sure anxious to see how you’ve set up our bedroom.”
Virginia flushed and stretched her hand to reach his, and he pulled her to her feet.
Their Christmas celebration with the family included Grandpa Clark and Grandma Marty as well as Grandmother Withers.
“My, I’ve been missing you something awful,” the elderly lady said in greeting as she gave Virginia a tight hug.
“As soon as the weather warms up, Jonathan will be in to get you and bring you out to see the house,” Virginia promised. “We even have a spare bed so you can stay the night.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I should do that. Fires need to be tended in this kind of weather.”
“ We’ll find someone to check your fires. I’m sure Father—”
“Wouldn’t want my indoor plants to freeze. That new violet is blooming now. You should see it. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Deep blue with a light blue fringe.”
“It sounds lovely.”
Virginia moved on to greet her grandparents.
“Hear you’ve got a right nice little place out there,” said Marty. Virginia only nodded, but her eyes were shining with her joy.
From her grandmother’s embrace she moved to her grand? father. “I understand you had a hand in helping get us in by Christmas,” she said, hugging Clark close.
“Well, now, I didn’t do much. Your man did the lion’s share of the work. You got yourself a good one, my dear.”
“I know, Grandpa,” said Virginia, turning to give Jonathan a proud smile.
“I’m anxious to see it,” put in Marty.
“New Year’s,” said Virginia, nodding enthusiastically. “Jona? than and I have talked it over, and we’d like to invite the family for New Year’s dinner. Can you come?”
All agreed they would have a New Year’s dinner and a housewarming, in one event. Virginia thought her heart would burst with emotion.
Before they scarcely had time to let the Christmas turkey settle, the sun was dipping toward the western horizon. People began searching out heavy coats and hats and scarves, bundling up against the chill of winter. Jonathan signaled to Virginia with a slight nod, and she, too, went to get their wraps. They faced a cold drive. Virginia was anxious to get home so she could stretch out her feet toward the fire and sip a cup of hot apple cider. And look around again at their wonderfully cozy home. If they hurried, there still would be some evening left before retiring.
They were standing in the kitchen, saying their last good-byes, when there was a rap on the door. All eyes turned toward it, wondering who was joining the festivities at such a late hour of the day. Jonathan, standing closest, moved to open it.
Perhaps Clara was popping in with the boys on their way home from Troy’s family dinner. Or Dr. Luke, stopping with a cheery hello as he returned from an emergency.
But it was Jenny who stood on the back porch, shivering against the cold. Jenny with a very chilled little Mindy close at her side.
Virginia and Jonathan took Jenny and her child home with them. This wasn’t how Virginia had intended to conclude their Christmas festivities, but after a hurried, whispered consultation, they agreed it was the thing to do. Virginia noticed that Jenny carried two suitcases. At least this time she had come prepared to stay—for how long, no one asked.
Mindy was warmed with a hot bath and tucked into bed. Thumb in mouth, she curled up into a tiny ball and went to sleep almost as soon as her head touched down. Jenny was a different matter. She paced and prowled in agitated fashion until Virginia wished she could tell her to settle down. Then it dawned on her that Jenny’s need for a cigarette likely had a good deal to do with it. “You may smoke in the sunroom. Just close the door to the house and open the window,” she conceded. She hated the thought of smoke in the house at all. “You know, Jenny, some nourishing food would be better than a cigarette.”
“Yes, Mother,” she interrupted in mock submission. But Virginia could tell she was relieved to be able to have her cigarette without going out to face the cold.
“Please don’t smoke in the bedroom,” Virginia went on, feeling that the rules should be clearly laid out at the start. “We’ll leave a light on if you need to come down in the night.”
Jenny nodded mutely.
Virginia’s tone softened. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish.”
Even as she spoke the words, Virginia inwardly cringed. She had been so looking forward to having Jonathan all to herself. To finally be able to make a home for him. For the two of them. And now … But there was no way she would turn Jenny and her little one away. It would be not only selfish. It was totally unthinkable.
“I don’t expect to be long,” answered Jenny, but she gave no further hint of what was going on, what she had in mind.
It wasn’t until two days later that Jenny began to talk about her situation. Hayden had left her. No—not really left her. He had kicked her out. Well, no—not really kicked her out. He had simply come home with another woman. Jenny, in a wild burst of temper, had decided to move out. Virginia could tell she was already having second thoughts.
“I shouldn’t have left,” she stormed on the third day. “I should have grabbed her by her fake blond hair and thrown her out. I should have thrown him out!” she finished, calling him an unrepeatable name.
Virginia made no comment.
“It’s the kid,” Jenny spat out on the fourth day, venom in her voice. “Hayden never wanted kids. He told me he’d kill me if I had another one.”
Virginia’s face showed her shock, and she stood frozen in place as if she’d been struck herself.
“He didn’t mean it literally.” Jenny swore. “It’s just an expression, Virginia.” But Jenny’s explanation did not erase the horror from Virginia’s heart.
On the sixth day, Jenny thumped down the stairs. “I’m going back,” she announced to Virginia, who was busy washing up the breakfast dishes.
“Wait, Jenny.” Virginia wiped her hands on her apron. “Are you sure? Think about it.”
“I’ve already thought about it. I’m going back. I know I can get him back again if …”
Virginia waited for the rest of the sentence. It did not come.
“If what, Jenny?”
“If I dump the kid.” The words were out there. Blunt and ugly.
Virginia’s face paled and her heart felt like it was being squeezed. “What do you mean? I … I don’t under? stand….”
“There’s a home for kids in the city. I’ve thought about it for a long time. She’d be better off there anyway.”
“But you can’t just …” Virginia was shaking, and she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“She’s my kid.”
“That’s my point. How can you just … just desert your own child?”
“It’s no
t exactly desertion. It’ll be best for her, too, in the long run. She might even be adopted into a family.”
“But how could you, Jenny? How can you stand there and talk about giving up your own child?”
“Don’t preach at me, Virginia. I’m finished with your sermons.”
“Jenny, that’s not fair. I have not preached one single sermon in the time you have been with us.”
“Maybe not out loud. But your eyes have preached at me every time you look at me.”
“What you think you see in my eyes is your own interpretation. Not necessarily what I am thinking or feeling.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea what you’re thinking. I’ve known you a long time. I’ve heard your thoughts and opinions often enough. Enough to know that you must have a pretty low view of me.”
“Please … could we talk? Please, Jenny, just sit down. I’ll make some coffee and we’ll talk about this.”
“I’m not changing my mind. It’s the only way I can work through this.”
“All right,” Virginia conceded. “I’m not asking you to change your mind—if you’re sure. But let’s just talk about it before you … you go through with this.”
Jenny sat down. Virginia felt it was a small victory. She hurried to put on the coffeepot.
“Tell me about your Hayden,” she said as she placed cups on the table and took the chair across from Jenny.
Jenny took a deep breath. “He’s a physical therapist. Works at the hospital. That’s where I met him.”
Virginia nodded. Jenny’s father had told her that.
“He’s great. Really, he’s lots of fun. We had a fine time. Life was … like a big party.”
“Then Mindy came along,” prompted Virginia.
“Yeah. At first I thought maybe I’d be okay. He didn’t mind too much. Unless she cried when he had a hangover. Then I had to hush her up. But he got more and more sullen. Didn’t like the kid around. Said she made him feel old and tied down. He wanted to be free.
“We had some fights about her, but they never amounted to much. We fought some about other things, too, so I didn’t pay much mind to it. Then he started getting … more upset. Pushy when he got angry. He threw me out of the house once.”
“Was that when you came …?”
“Yeah. I hopped the train. Thought at first I’d never go back, I was so mad. But I soon knew that I couldn’t stay away. Hayden is … is like no other person I’ve ever met. I missed him.”
“So now you’re going back again?”
Jenny just nodded.
“But you’re going to get … going to do something else with Mindy?”
Jenny nodded again.
“You are sure? Absolutely sure this is what you will do?” Jenny said, “Yes, Virginia,” in a way that boded no further questions.
Virginia stood up. “Promise me one thing: Will you wait here until I talk to Jonathan?”
“He’s not going to talk me out of it either, Virginia.”
“He won’t try. I promise.”
Jenny looked surprised but eventually nodded her head in agreement. “I want to catch that afternoon train,” she cautioned Virginia.
“This won’t take long. I promise. I’ll be right back.”
Virginia grabbed a jacket from the hook by the wall and ran to the barn where Jonathan was working with the horses. Her eyes filled with tears, whether from the cold or from the anguish, she didn’t know. It did not take long to spill out the whole sorry story to her husband. He held her close and let her cry. When she had finished he said simply, softly, “We can’t let her do that, can we?”
“What can we do? She’s determined.”
“Well, we might not be able to stop her from giving up the child—I’ve noticed there’s not much love there—but we can stop the little one from ending up in a home.”
Virginia looked up into her husband’s face. “You mean …?”
“We can take her—if you believe that’s what we should do.”
“Jonathan, are you sure?”
“She’s a skitterish little mite, and that’s for sure. But maybe with time and love we can work it out of her.”
“You mean …? Oh, Jonathan, I don’t know. This is such a serious decision to make so quickly. We need time to … to think … and plan.”
“Do we have time?”
“Jenny intends to take the afternoon train.”
“Then all I can say, Virginia, is to follow your heart.” Jonathan pulled her tight against him, and Virginia wept anew.
He held her quietly for a long time and, when her tears were spent, led her to a place in the soft hay. “I think we’d better do some praying,” he said, taking her hand and helping her onto the pile. They sat together and Jonathan held her hand and prayed, asking God for wisdom and clear thinking concerning little Mindy and for some way to reach Jenny with the truth.
When he had finished, he held her again. “Do you want me to come with you to the house?”
“No. No, I’m fine. But you may need to drive Jenny to the train. She’s determined to go.”
He nodded. “Let me know when she’s ready.”
Virginia returned to the house, the burden of decision still upon her. But now somehow her heart was not as heavy. She removed the jacket and hung it on its hook, then turned to Jenny still in the chair at the table. She had helped herself to more coffee.
“I’ve talked to Jonathan,” Virginia began. “We are … would be honored to keep Mindy … until such time as you sort things through. If you decide that you want her back, just come for her. If you decide … otherwise … she will always have a home here with us.”
Jenny nodded, her face without expression. Then Virginia noticed her shoulders begin to tremble. Jenny was weeping.
CHAPTER 10
Had Virginia been content to feed and clothe her only, Mindy would have been an easy child. But Virginia saw behind the soulful eyes and the somber face a desperate little person crying silently for help. The little girl had not wept at Jenny’s departure. Nor had she asked for her mother—not once. Her childish stoicism frightened Virginia. Mindy just sat, silent and withdrawn, with only her thumb for comfort.
Virginia did not know what to do. The child seemed to resist physical contact, drawing away whenever Virginia so much as reached out a hand to her. Jonathan tried to help, but Mindy looked up with frightened eyes whenever he came near her. Fearing she might burst into shrieks, he would back off slowly, talking softly to the little girl.
“I don’t know much about children,” he acknowledged, “but she looks just like a skitterish foal to me. Look at those eyes. There’s absolute panic there. I suspect this is going to take a lot of time and patience.”
Virginia feared she might run out of both.
Then Jonathan came up with an idea. “Old Molly is as tame as a kitten. Why don’t I take Mindy out and see how the two of them will get along.”
Virginia’s eyes reflected her doubt, but after a full week of very little progress with the little girl, she was willing to try almost anything.
Mindy allowed Virginia to button on her coat and draw the strings of her hood. Then Jonathan, despite stiff resistance, scooped her up in his arms, and the three of them started off through the lightly falling snow to the barn.
“We’re going to see the horses,” Jonathan explained softly. “Horses. Have you ever seen horses before, Mindy? They are nice. I’ll let you see Molly. Molly likes little people. You can even pet her if you like.”
All the way to the barn he talked to her, using the words “horses” and “Molly” over and over again. Jonathan went to the pen that housed the youngest foals first. “Might be the smaller size will be less frightening for her to start with,” he whispered to Virginia.
It sounded like good logic, but the long-legged, high-energy animals scampered around, pushing and nipping in their effort to get close to Jonathan, who usually brought a treat. Mindy frantically clung to Jonathan’s neck, whimperi
ng her fear.
“Not such a good idea,” he murmured and moved back from the pen.
“My, they have grown!” exclaimed Virginia. “ They are almost as tall as their mamas.”
Jonathan grinned, proud of his horses. Virginia could tell that it took great fortitiude for him to keep away from them for the sake of the child. His normal response to the pushing and milling foals would have been to step close and rub ears and pat necks and offer handfuls of grain. But with Mindy still quaking in his arms, he held his position.
“It’s about time they had names,” he said, speaking softly.
“They aren’t named yet?” inquired Virginia.
“I thought that was something you might like to take on.”
Virginia could not hide her smile. “Well, I guess Mindy and I are going to have to work on that.”
Jonathan moved down the row of mares, who watched soberly from their stalls. “Watch that black,” he cautioned Virginia. “If she’s spooked, she has a tendency to kick.”
Virginia gave the black’s hooves wide berth.
“ That little brown mare—that’s Chiquita. She’s gentle enough, but she’s not been around kids. We’ll just pass her up for now.”
Virginia stopped to eye the brown mare. She was a little beauty with a proud head and wide brown eyes studying first Jonathan and his unusual armful, then Virginia. Her slightly rounded sides were sleek and silky, her black mane flowing and untangled. Her face had the smallest white star on her forehead and one front foot looked like it had been dipped gently into a can of whitewash. “She’s beautiful,” Virginia exclaimed.
Jonathan grinned. “She’s due to drop a foal in the spring. The sire’s Warrior. I can hardly wait to get a look at that one. Should be some horse.”
“Which one’s Warrior?” Jonathan’s corrals held three stallions.
“The sorrel.”
Virginia knew the sorrel. As far as she was concerned, he was the most beautiful animal she had ever seen—tall and proud and muscular, with flowing mane and tail, head held high into the wind, beautiful but frightening. His tossing head and restless hooves made her think of an untamed animal of the wilds. She was concerned each time she saw Jonathan going near his corral. But Jonathan seemed to have no fear of the animal, and to Virginia’s utter amazement the horse suddenly calmed when Jonathan whistled and reached out a hand toward him. But even then he was a mass of unharnessed energy, seeming ready to explode at the least provocation. “Pegasus” would have been a more apt name, Virginia noted silently as she stared at the sorrel.