A Season of Angels (21 page)

“Let's not be hasty,” Glen said, sounding very much like the attorney he was. “We can reason this out. There isn't anything that says we can't have a long engagement, get to know each other better. You're right, I am fond of Timmy, but don't discount what I feel toward you.”

“There is a very good reason you shouldn't marry me,” Jody whispered. “I'm deeply in love with another man.”

“Jody, please, we've talked about this before. You don't need to worry about that. I'll never try to take Jeff's place in your life.”

“And you,” she continued undaunted, “are deeply in love with another woman.” It wasn't until she said the words that she realized the depth of truth in them.

Glen didn't argue with her, and for that she was grateful. “I'd never be unfaithful to you,” he assured her.

“But you're willing to do so with yourself.”

Glen hesitated. “It's over, Jody, and has been for months. There isn't any hope of reviving the relationship. It's dead.”

Jody smiled to herself and set the diamond ring on the desktop as she stood. “It may not be as dead as you think. I want you to wait here.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find someone. I shouldn't be long.”

Jody left him and hurried out the door. She wasn't entirely sure for which firm Maryann worked, but a quick inspection of the names on the outside of the doors on the floor helped. The receptionist directed her to Maryann's office.

“Hello,” Jody said, letting herself inside. “I'm Jody Potter.” She waited to see if the other woman recognized the name. “I was the one who overheard you speaking in the ladies' room a few minutes ago.”

Maryann paled when she recognized Jody's name. “I had no idea you were there . . . we'd never met and . . .”

“Don't worry, I believe you. I'm here because I have an important question to ask you. Are you in love with Glen Richardson?”

The other woman folded her arms and looked out the window. “I don't mean to be rude, but this isn't any of your business. I understand you and Glen are engaged and—”

“It is my business now, don't you think?” Jody interrupted.

“I can imagine it was disconcerting for you to overhear my conversation with Shelly. It's just that . . . actually, I think it's best if I didn't say anything more.” She drew in a steadying breath and then added graciously, “I want you to know that I wish you and Glen every happiness.”

“Glen is a wonderful man.”

“Yes, I know,” Maryann whispered.

“It complicates matters considerably knowing how deeply he loves you,” Jody said.

Maryann's head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. “I'm sure that's not true, not after the things that happened between us. I was such a fool. There's no hope, not anymore.”

“Don't be so sure of that,” Jody told her. “Glen's free.”

“Free?”

“We're no longer engaged. He's waiting for you in my office now.”

Jody had worked with attorneys for a number of years, but she rarely saw one speechless.

“Why . . . why are you doing this?”

Jody didn't feel particularly noble. “I've experienced that kind of love myself, and for a while was willing to take second best. Go to him, Maryann, and settle whatever it was that drove you two apart. But most of all, love him. He deserves to be happy and so do you.”

Tears shone bright in the attorney's eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Sure,” Jody said, shrugging. “Anytime.” She turned and walked out then, past the sounds of the Christmas party and into the cold, dark night the same way she had every evening since Jeff's death.

Alone.

M
ichelle Madison was alone and frightened, and desperately trying to disguise her fear. Leah had spent a good deal of the afternoon with her and the young woman's labor was progressing smoothly.

“How much longer?” Michelle asked, following an intense contraction. Her hands rested against her protruding stomach and she drew in a deep, calming breath.

“It shouldn't be much longer now,” Leah assured her in gentle tones, although she was well aware it could be hours yet. She didn't want to discourage the young mother-to-be.

Michelle had come in earlier in the first stages of labor, before Leah had arrived for work. Because there was no one Michelle wanted to contact, she was alone. By the time Leah arrived for her shift, the labor had intensified and, frightened, Michelle had clung to Leah's hand, begging her to stay.

Since there weren't any other patients on the floor, Leah was able to linger at the young woman's bedside, guiding her step by step through the stages of labor and birth.

“I'm so pleased I'm having my baby with you,” Michelle offered just before the next pain overtook her. She closed her eyes and drew in deep, even breaths while Leah softly encouraged her to relax and accept the pain.

“I was in the birthing class that visited the labor room when you were here.”

Leah had thought the young woman looked vaguely familiar, but wasn't sure where she'd seen her.

“I don't expect you to remember me,” Michelle continued. “Lots of people were asking you questions that day. Jo Ann Rossini claimed anyone who was lucky enough to have their babies on your shift should consider themselves blessed.”

“As you might have guessed, Jo Ann's a longtime friend,” Leah said, discounting the compliment. She wasn't a miracle worker and although she was gentle with the mothers, they were the ones who did the work. It was called labor for a reason.

“You said you don't have children yourself,” Michelle murmured, her eyes closed as the lingering pain gradually faded.

There'd been a time when the careless comment would have felt like a body blow to Leah, but not now. A child nestled beneath her heart, nurtured by her body, one conceived in love.

“Not yet,” Leah concurred. She carefully studied the fetal monitor, pleased that matters were progressing normally for Michelle.

“You want children, though?”

“Very much,” Leah confirmed.

A smile, fragile and ever so slight, turned up the edges of Michelle's mouth. Leah guessed the girl was barely twenty, if that, but she didn't want to burden her with unnecessary questions.

Michelle massaged her belly and took in several calming breaths, bracing herself for the next pain. “I didn't expect to love this baby. I imagine that sounds odd to someone like you.”

“Of course not,” Leah said, wanting to reassure her.

“Lonny didn't want to have anything to do with me after he found out I was pregnant. I believed he loved me, and in his own way, I'm sure he did, but he wasn't ready for the responsibility of a wife and family.”

“You don't sound bitter.”

“I'm not. At first I was. Not until later did I realize Lonny was right. Getting married now would have been wrong for us both.”

“You're very wise for your years.” Leah greatly admired Michelle for looking past her pain and finding her peace. Women much older would have difficulty recognizing such deep truths.

“For a while I seriously considered getting an abortion. I never thought I was that kind of person. That's what my mother wanted and later when my dad found out, he did too.”

“But you didn't.”

“I'm pleased now that I decided to go through with the pregnancy. It hasn't been easy, especially toward the end when I looked like a blimp. My parents have had a difficult time dealing with me having this baby. They said they loved me, but if I wanted to do this, then I'd do it alone. That's why no one is here.”

“You're a strong woman, Michelle.”

“It was the right choice for me. What surprises me is how much I love this baby.”

“You're going to be a good mother.”

“I want to be the very best.”

With this kind of attitude, Michelle had a chance, Leah decided. She stepped around to the end of the bed. “It's time we check you again.” The last series of pains had gained in intensity and she suspected Michelle would soon be entering the third stage of labor.

Once the task was completed, Michelle relaxed. “Will you be in the delivery room with me?”

“I'm not sure,” Leah said. “Normally I'd stay but I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon myself. Let's play this by ear and see how matters go. You're doing just great so I don't think there'll be any problem.”

“Good,” Michelle, said faintly. “I want you to be there if you can. I need someone.”

To have Michelle so alone at this important moment tore at Leah's heart. She longed to reassure her patient that she'd seen cases like hers often. “Your parents will come around soon enough,” Leah said, gently patting her hand. “They're going to love this baby. They won't be able to help themselves.”

“I think so too.”

“Do you have any names picked out?”

Michelle shook her sweat-dampened head. “No, I didn't want to know if the baby was a girl or a boy. I thought I'd decide on a name later.”

Another two hours passed before Michelle was ready for the delivery room. Leah went in with her, along with the anesthesiologist, Dr. Leon, and the gynecologist, Dr. Beecher. Leah had worked with the anesthesiologist on numerous occasions.

Michelle was a model patient and when the moment came for her baby to be born, she gave a shout of joy. “A girl, a girl.” Leah weighed the squalling newborn, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and gently placed her in Michelle's arms.

“A girl,” Michelle sobbed. “I'm so pleased I had a little girl. That was what I wanted, but I was so afraid to care.”

“She's a beautiful baby,” Leah said.

“Thank you. Thank you for your help.”

After she carried the newborn into the nursery, Leah happened to glance up at the clock. She'd need to hurry if she was going to make it to Dr. Benoit's in time for her appointment. “I have to rush now, but I'll be by to see you in the morning,” she told Michelle when she returned.

“Please don't forget,” Michelle said.

“I won't,” Leah promised. She started to leave, but Michelle grabbed hold of her hand. “I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you.”

“I wasn't the one who worked so hard,” Leah said, squeezing the young woman's hand. “Give yourself some credit.”

Michelle beamed her a bright smile. “All right, I will.” She closed her eyes and yawned. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“ 'Bye for now.” On her way out the door Leah realized Michelle was already asleep.

Leah felt wonderful. Her workday had been full and rewarding. She hurried into the parking lot and started her car, driving past the nativity scene on the hospital side yard. A sense of expectancy filled her. The way she felt, she didn't need Dr. Benoit to confirm what she already knew. There wasn't a doubt in her mind what he would tell her.

The housekeeper had instructions to place a bottle of fine champagne on ice, and there were two thick steaks in the refrigerator. This evening she and Andrew would celebrate. She'd call her parents and if possible wait until the following evening to let Andrew's mother know when they got together for Christmas Eve.

This would be the best Christmas ever, Leah was convinced of that.

Dr. Benoit was a kind, older physician with a quick wit and a gentle heart. He'd been a comfort to her in those bleak years, reassuring and confident when Leah felt having a child was hopeless. It was only fitting that he be the one to tell her she was pregnant.

“Leah,” he said, coming into the cubicle. His smile was warm and tender. “It's so good to see you again.”

“You were right,” she said, holding onto his hand with both of hers. “It's happened. Andrew and I are pregnant.”

He said nothing, but then Leah gave him no opportunity.

“Kathy is thrilled for me.” Kathy was the nurse who'd collected the urine sample from her.

“Let's sit down and talk,” he said, directing her to the chair. “Leah, you don't know how deeply this pains me.”

“Pains you?” she asked. “I'm going to have a baby. How could such wonderful news pain you?”

The doctor's eyes softened. He took her hand in his. “Leah, the test is negative.”

“There must be some mistake,” she said, leaping to her feet.

“I'd give anything to tell you otherwise.”

“But I'm late and experienced all the symptoms,” she argued. “It isn't possible for me not to be pregnant.”

“The mind is very powerful. I don't believe science has a clue of its potential. When a woman wants a child as fervently as you do, she's sometimes able to convince her body she's pregnant. That's what I believe happened in your case.”

It wasn't true. Leah refused to believe it, and yet she had no choice. Reaching for her purse, she walked toward the door.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure,” she said, but she wasn't and she doubted that she ever would be again.

Chapter 18

“Y
ou're back early,” Helen Chandler commented when Jody walked into the house after leaving the office party. She took off her coat and hung it in the hall closet.

“Jody, whatever is the matter?” her mother pressed. “You look as if you've been crying.” Helen followed her into the kitchen where Jody poured herself a cup of coffee. She wasn't the least bit thirsty, but she needed something to hold onto while she steadied her nerves.

“Where's Timmy?” she asked, surprised not to find her son in front of the television screen, battling it out with alien warlords.

“In his room,” Helen answered with a slight frown. “He's wrapping his gift for you. He wouldn't even show me what it is. Now tell me what's wrong. I can't remember seeing you like this in a good long while. You're as pale as a ghost.”

“I broke off the engagement with Glen,” Jody whispered, not wanting Timmy to hear. Not yet. She'd tell her son as soon as she'd composed herself and could do so without emotion. Her heart wasn't entangled with Glen's and yet she ached for all the might-have-beens.

“But why?” her mother asked, sinking into the chair.

“I don't love Glen.”

“Love,” her mother cried. “How could you
not
love someone like Glen? He's perfect for you and Timmy. Why, that man walks on water. You couldn't ask for a better husband.”

“I'm not going to argue with you, Mom. Everything you say is true, but it was more than not loving him. I know what it's like to be deeply in love, but when it came right down to it, I realized I couldn't accept second best.”

Her mother's shoulders sagged with defeat. “You might have grown to feel that way about him. Jody, for the love of heaven, you've got to let go of the past.”

“There was one other minor complication with Glen,” she said, holding the coffee mug tightly. “He's in love with someone else and I learned that she's still in love with him too.”

Helen braced her elbows against the tabletop and hung her head. “And so you did the noble thing and stepped aside. Oh, Jody, what am I going to do with you?”

Jody laughed and impulsively squeezed her mother's arm. “This entire experience has been a valuable lesson to me. In my heart, I know I did the right thing. I just didn't expect it to hurt so much.”

“Life's lessons aren't cheap.”

Jody nodded. “Ever since Jeff disappeared, I've clung to the misty memories of our years together. The circumstances surrounding his death and all that followed caused me to build a cocoon around Timmy and me. I was so terribly frightened of being hurt again. Jeff was a good husband and I loved him more than I thought it was possible to love another human, but I've built up those years in my mind into a picture of paradise.”

Her mother's head came up. “I've waited a good long while for you to realize this. It sounds like you've done some heavy-duty thinking these last few weeks.”

“I have,” Jody admitted, and a good deal of it had been enlightening. “More than anything I realize I've clung to a half-filled glass, afraid to let go of that small bit of happiness I'd found and reach for the quart jar that was sitting right in front of me.”

Helen's frown deepened. “I'm afraid you've lost me with all this talk of glasses and quart jars. I thought we were talking about you and Jeff.”

“I'm ready to get back to my life now,” Jody said pensively, “ready to reach out in faith and trust God for Timmy's and my future. I'm going to squeeze every bit of joy I can out of what's left of my life. For the first time since Jeff's death I feel like I have one.

“I don't want to spend the rest of it alone, either. There's a man for me out there—someone who'll be a good father to Timmy, and a good husband for me. A man who'll be a friend, a partner, and a lover.”

Helen bit into her lower lip. “I've waited years for you to tell me this. I don't know what happened to open your eyes to the truth, but I'm eternally grateful.” She stood and hugged Jody. “I'll leave you to talk to Timmy now.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Any time,” her mother said. “I love watching Timmy. He's a delight.”

“For that, yes,” Jody said with tears in her eyes. “But for everything else too, for being there when I needed you, for listening to me, and most of all for standing with me, loving me, giving me the emotional support I needed. You're the best mom in the world.”

“You were like this as a little girl,” her mother said with a smile, “buttering me up before Christmas.”

Jody laughed and the two hugged.

“Mom,” Timmy said, standing in the doorway. “Why are you and Grandma crying?”

They both started laughing then, which was sure to confuse him all the more.

“Where's Glen?” Timmy wanted to know next.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Helen said, reaching for her coat and purse.

Timmy watched his grandmother leave. “What's going on around here?”

Jody smiled and patted the top of his head. “I need to talk to you.”

“Did I do something wrong?” His eyes grew round with concern, or perhaps guilt, Jody didn't know which.

“No,” she assured him, placing her hand on his shoulder and bringing him close to her side. “This isn't about anything you did, I need to tell you something important about Glen and me.”

“M
om,” Timmy muttered dejectedly, leaning against the doorway in the bathroom as if his weight were too heavy to support, “are you sure we have to go to church? It isn't even Sunday.”

“We've been through this before,” Jody said, adding the finishing touches to her makeup. “It's Christmas Eve. After church we'll go to Grandma's house and open our gifts with her.”

“Will she have hot chocolate and goodies like she did last year?”

“I'm sure she will. Is the car loaded?” Jody asked.

“I did that a long time ago. I wish you'd hurry.”

“We have plenty of time.” She knew what Timmy really wanted was for the minutes to go by fast so he could get to the gift-opening part of the evening. The Christmas Eve church service was just unnecessary nonsense as far as he was concerned.

“I'll only take a little bit longer,” Jody promised. “Don't let me forget the cheese roll and the crackers. They're in the refrigerator.”

“Ah . . .”

There was something in Timmy's voice that clued her in to the fact that there was a problem with the cheese roll.

“What?” she said, lowering the mascara brush and turning her head away from the mirror to study her son.

“About the cheese roll.”

“What about it?” Jody returned the brush to the holder and tightened the top. Setting the cosmetic bag aside, she faced her son.

“I had a little party with my friends the day Grandma was watching me.”

“Yes?” Jody prompted.

“Everyone had something yummy to bring and you took almost all the gingerbread cookies and, besides, I like the cheese roll better than cookies anyway.”

“In other words there isn't any left.”

Timmy nodded and hung his head. “I have the feeling this isn't going to be a very good Christmas anyway.”

“Because of Glen?”

Timmy lifted one shoulder halfheartedly. “I understand why you aren't going to marry him and everything. But I was kinda thinking maybe he wouldn't mind coming by and seeing me every once in a while.”

“We'll wait until after Christmas and ask, okay?” The real attraction for Glen had always been Timmy and she sincerely hoped the attorney would maintain contact with her son.

The doorbell chimed.

“Who could that be on Christmas Eve?” Jody wondered out loud.

“I'll see,” Timmy said, running toward the front door.

“Timmy,” Jody called out after him. “Let me answer that.”

She was too late. Her son enthusiastically threw open the door as if he expected Santa Claus to be on the other side.

“Hi,” he was saying cheerfully by the time Jody reached the door.

“Hello,” Jody said automatically, then gasped as she recognized the man standing on the other side of the screen door. In that moment, she swore her heart stopped dead. She flattened her palm over it and the room started to sway. Staggering two steps, she reached for the door to keep herself from collapsing.

“Mom, what's wrong?”

“Timmy,” she said on the tail end of a strangled sob, pulling her son protectively toward her. “This is your father.”

L
eah had shed so many tears over the last seven years that she discovered that her fountain was dry. A numb feeling attached itself to her as she walked toward her car. She was barren. There was no child to swell and stretch her womb. There never would be. And yet . . . and yet she couldn't make her heart believe what surely was the truth.

The joy she'd felt these last two weeks, believing she was pregnant, was gone. All she could do was live day by day with the emptiness in her heart.

Now she must tell Andrew.

Naturally they'd both pretend it didn't matter, there was nothing else to do. They'd reassure each other and go on, one day into the next, through Christmas, pretending. All the family would be celebrating and she'd have no choice but to make believe all was well with her.

She drove home in a daze, parked her car in the driveway, and walked like a zombie into her house. She moved without direction or will, walking around the perfection of her home, stopping in front of their designer Christmas tree.

Her gaze rested on the beautifully wrapped gifts. Her one thought was to locate the Baby's First Christmas ornament she'd purchased for Andrew, remove it before he unwrapped it on Christmas morning.

Her search became frantic as she sorted through the presents. They'd both suffered enough.

Suddenly she was blinded by tears and couldn't locate the gift, couldn't recall which package contained the ornament. She tossed one gaily wrapped present after another aside, her chest heaving with sobs.

Collecting herself, her hands shaking almost uncontrollably, she methodically sorted the packages into two piles. Hers and Andrew's. Then one by one she tore open his presents until she'd located the silver ornament.

Taking it with her, she walked into the kitchen and threw it in the garbage. The champagne was on ice. She paused, picked it up, and with drops of water leaving a glistening trail across the floor, she carried that to the garbage as well.

The garage door sounded in the distance, signaling Andrew's return. His steps sounded eager as he approached the door leading to the house.

Leah was frozen, immobile.

Andrew walked into the kitchen and stopped when he saw her.

She didn't need to say a word. He came to her and wrapped her in his arms.

L
eah woke the following morning, her throat dry and chest heavy. Her eyes stung. Andrew rolled over and tucked his arm over her side, scooting closer, cuddling her spoon fashion.

“Don't go to work today,” he suggested. “I'll stay home with you.”

“It's Christmas Eve. The hospital is already short-staffed.”

“For once, think about yourself instead of that damned hospital.”

The short fuse on his temper was the first indication he'd given her of his own bitter disappointment. In some ways having him release his frustration freed Leah.

“I'm all right now,” she whispered.

“Call in sick,” he pleaded.

“I need to work. It'll help.” As if there was anything capable of easing this constant ache. It continued day after day, dull and constant, a steady, ever-present reminder that she was less of a wife, less of a woman.

Despite Andrew's protests, she dressed in her uniform, and even managed to down a cup of coffee before she left the house. Andrew walked her out to her car, looking weary and burdened. His hands were buried in his pockets.

“I'll meet you back at the house at four,” he said. “I told Mother we'd be at her place around four-thirty.”

She raised questioning eyes to her husband.

“We're spending the evening with her, remember?”

“Of course.” She'd momentarily forgotten.

“Do you want to cancel?” Andrew asked, tenderly brushing the hair from her forehead.

“No, I wouldn't want to disappoint her.”

Andrew nodded and hugged Leah. They clung to each other for a moment extra and then reluctantly separated.

Leah drove to the hospital and for reasons she didn't understand, she walked over to the side yard where the faded nativity scene was displayed.

The manger was empty. As empty as her heart. As empty as her arms. She hung her head and closed her eyes. If this was a battle, she was surrendering. A prayer sailed straight from her heart.

“I don't know why You don't want me to have a child,” she whispered, “but I can't hold onto this pain any longer. It hurts too much. I can't trust even myself.” She'd given up trusting God years earlier, preferring to rely upon herself. Now that foundation had crumbled and she was left standing on the sharp rocks of her self-inflicted pain. In essence she was holding up a white flag to God, accepting whatever it was He had planned for her life. She was through fighting, through insisting she knew best, through being miserable.

Her prayer complete, she lifted her head. As she looked upward her gaze continued toward the faded yellow angel that adorned the rickety stable. Leah gasped as a breathless emotion clenched at her heart.

The angel was magnificent, golden and bright, her wings spanned out in elaborate display. She was so bright that Leah couldn't continue to look directly at her. She blinked, thinking this was some type of optical illusion. The sun bouncing off a mirror, or some such phenomenon. But when she opened her eyes, the angel was still there.