Promise Kept, page 3
“Right this way.”
Josie settled into a chair that Art pushed in for her. The small dining room was filled with bistro tables and patrons. A spicy aroma wafted from the kitchen. A waitress walked by with several plates of food, and Josie’s stomach flipped as the scent got stronger. She swallowed and pressed a hand against her stomach, urging it to cooperate.
Art looked at her, a question in his gaze. “Are you okay?”
Josie nodded but kept her lips sealed, afraid to speak.
“Maybe you need to see a doctor?”
“I did.” Heat eased up her cheeks at the thought.
“What?”
“I saw a doctor this afternoon.” Josie took a breath. How to make this moment everything he wanted?
Art worried his lower lip between his teeth. “You’d better tell me, Josie. Nothing can be as bad as all this.”
“No, this is wonderful news. Art, know how you always talk about wanting to be a dad?” A glimpse of hope flashed on his face. Josie didn’t want to hide her smile any longer. “I’m pregnant.” Art’s mouth dropped, and a big grin cracked his face.
“Really?”
Josie nodded as tears slipped down her cheeks. Her dream of becoming a mother, having children to dote on, was coming true.
He reached toward her as if to pull her into his arms but couldn’t reach her around the table. “That’s wonderful news, Josie.”
Josie swiped at her cheeks. “I know. I thought we could have some time to be us, but God had different plans. I’ll be more excited when I don’t feel sick.” He shared her excitement, and Josie loved Art all over again. This baby came straight from God’s hand. The thought stilled her racing heart. God had decided this was the time for her to be a mommy. Excitement escalated inside her. “I’ve always loved babies.”
Art scooted his chair around the table and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. “Wow. It’ll be great. And you’ll feel better soon, right?”
“Yes, Dr. Nathan said likely in a few weeks.” That was definitely good news. She couldn’t wait for her stomach to settle. The sooner the better. Yesterday would have been great. A smile spread on her face. Soon she’d walk the baby in a carriage. And the cradle could fit in the corner of the bedroom.
“We’ll be great parents to the little guy.”
If the giddy look on Art’s face served as any indication, then she had nothing to fear. The bubble of excitement expanded. They were really going to be parents. She couldn’t stop her grin. “What’s that about a little boy? It might be a girl.”
Art leaned back and looked into her eyes. “Either will be fine, as long as the little girl looks like her mommy.”
“I’m going to be a mommy.” Her voice shook on the words.
“You’ll be wonderful.” A feather soft kiss touched her brow.
Three
The wind carried the whisper of spring as Josie walked to the library a month later. That morning, she’d woken up and not felt the need to rush to the bathroom. She reveled in the lack of nausea. What a miracle to watch the world wake up with new life around her as a child grew inside her.
Her steps bounced as she walked into the small library. The air was cool and musty. She pulled her coat close and wrinkled her nose against the dust. Why did that combination always make her thoughts turn to learning? Exploring the great books. Traveling to new destinations. Seeing life through fresh eyes. She surveyed the stacks, wondering where to start.
“Good morning, Josephine.” Miss Adelaide sat behind the checkout counter, back ramrod straight, face set in proper lines. “How are you this morning?”
“Wonderful.”
Miss Adelaide frowned at the loud sound. “Shh, dear.” Her eyes scanned the tiny lobby area. “We aren’t the only ones here.”
“Sorry, Miss Adelaide.” Josie tried to rein in her enthusiasm to the appropriate subdued level. “It’s a beautiful day outside. Hints of spring fill the air.”
“Delightful. Now what can I help you with today?” Miss Adelaide pushed out of the chair and took a step toward the fiction section. “Interested in another Jane Austen novel?”
“No.” Heat crept into her cheeks. “I’d like one on baby development.”
“Josephine Wilson. Are you in the family way?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Josie couldn’t keep the smile from exploding on her face. Didn’t want to. Butterflies of excitement tickled her inside, welcome relief from the unsettling sensations.
“That is good news. Good news indeed.” Miss Adelaide hurried as fast as her shuffle allowed toward the opposite side of the room from the one Josie usually perused. “Over against this wall, we have a small section of child development books. Personally, I’m not sure there’s much wisdom in them. You’ll find all you need in the Good Book.”
“Yes, ma’am. I still wouldn’t mind checking out a few books, though. There’s so much I don’t know.”
Miss Adelaide ran her arthritic fingers along the spines of a row of books. “Didn’t you tell me once that you’ve got siblings?” Josie nodded, though Miss Adelaide didn’t wait for her response. “Then you know everything you need. Babies are simple. Love them, feed them, and keep them clean.”
Josie wondered. Could it really be that simple? But Miss Adelaide grew up in a simpler time. Before life became modern. Complex. “How many children do you have?”
“Oh, I wasn’t granted the blessing of having any. I helped my sisters with their broods. Auntie Adelaide to the rescue. Seventeen times.”
“Oh my.”
“There were a bunch of nieces and nephews, but I love them as if they were my own.” She pulled out a book and handed it to Josie. “Well, here you go. If you need anything, you know where to find me. Congratulations again, dear.”
“Thank you.” Josie watched Miss Adelaide for a moment then turned to the book in her hand. She really wanted a book that could give her a window to what was happening inside her. Did anyone really know? Or was it a mystery reserved for God alone to know? After spending half an hour flipping through the few books the library’s collection held, Josie decided the mystery must be God’s.
Maybe she’d grab Sense and Sensibility after all.
❧
Art couldn’t wait to race home and grab Josie in a huge hug. The bigger the hug, the more likely the little Wilson could sense it, right? He would have never guessed he’d become such a sap about a baby. No question about it. He loved the idea of a little one to throw in the air. Josie told him it would be awhile before the baby was big enough. But the images of all the things the two of them would do together already played through his mind. Teaching the baby to fish, solving math problems, and showing the child the wonders of God’s world. Maybe even leading the child into his own relationship with the Savior. Art resisted the moisture that tinged his eyes at the thought. A strong children’s Sunday school program joined the priority list for their new church home.
Was there any greater trust than having a child?
He couldn’t imagine one.
And to think three months ago the idea of adding children to their family had seemed like a distant mirage. Now the anticipation stayed with him throughout the day. It seemed the most natural thing for their growing family.
“Another good day, Art.”
He looked up to see Stan Jacobs standing next to his desk. Stan filled the space like an ex-college lineman.
“Yep. Now to race home.”
“You should join us for a drink before heading home. Time to join the guys. Hasn’t the honeymoon worn off?” A slight leer tipped Stan’s mouth.
“Not for me.” Art couldn’t imagine losing the excitement of racing home to see his Josie after a long day apart. He wanted to hear all about her day. And be back in her arms. Yep, that’s where he belonged. Not at Rosie’s Bar.
“So you say now. Wait till you have your first real fight. Right, boys?”
Art hadn’t noticed the other guys from the office gather round. A couple shook their heads at Stan while they grabbed their briefcases. “We don’t have that kind of marriage, Stan.”
The man snickered, and Art balled his fists. Where did Stan get the idea he could tell Art about marriage? It wasn’t like Art had asked for advice.
“Ignore Stan.” Charlie Sloan socked Stan in the shoulder. “This big lug doesn’t know the wonders of married life. My wife and I’ve been married twenty-three years. I’d still rather be with her after a long day at work than anything else. And you’re right. Drink never solved any problems.”
Stan shook his head and stepped away from Art’s desk. “Have it your way. But don’t be surprised when I say, ‘Told ya so.’ She’ll weigh you down.” He winked at Art, then headed toward the door. “Anyone else ready for Rosie’s? Come on.” Several of the guys joined him as he left.
Charlie shook his head. “That boy’s gonna fall mighty hard one of these days. When he does, the earth’s gonna shake.”
Art wanted to ask what was going to make him fall: drinking or a woman? It didn’t really matter, though. “Any advice for this guy?”
“On married life?”
“Yep.”
“Make sure you keep your walk with God first.” Art cringed at the reminder. They needed to settle on a church home. “Most of our challenges I created when I forgot to put God first. Amazing how quickly my perspective turned sour.” Charlie put a hand on Art’s shoulder. “Better get home to the missus now. It’s been a long day away from her.”
Art grabbed his briefcase, jacket, and hat from his desk. “Sounds good to me.”
The week passed in a blur of routine. Life the way he liked it. Work hard while he was at the factory office. Then spend his evenings at home with Josie. Now that she felt good again, they’d walk the neighborhood after dinner when the weather cooperated. He couldn’t wait to push the baby’s carriage around the block. He could already see the neighbors oohing and aahing over the little boy. Josie kept teasing him that the baby could be a girl, but he knew.
Friday night, he hurried home ready for a quiet weekend. The moment he stepped through the door, he sensed something wasn’t right. Josie lay curled in a ball on the small couch. Her arms wrapped around her middle, a tight look on her face. She moaned, eyes squeezed shut. He dropped his briefcase by the door and rushed toward her.
“Josie, honey, what’s wrong?” He studied her face, his concern building when he saw tears on her cheeks. He brushed one away, trying to read her face. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Pressure built inside him. Something was wrong. Looking at her face, terribly wrong. “Josie?”
She opened her mouth. Screwed it shut. Looked at him, and a sob welled from somewhere deep inside her.
“Baby, it’s okay. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll fix.” Somehow he would. He promised himself he would. No matter how much it cost. He’d fix it, since the sight of her like this tore him apart.
❧
Josie tried to stop her tears, but they flowed. She’d never known fear like this. The cramps had started around noon. She hadn’t thought much about them, but they grew in intensity. Right before Art got home, she’d felt the rush of blood. She wanted to protect the baby but had no idea what to do. All she could do was curl into a ball and wait for the next contraction. The helplessness crushed her.
Shouldn’t she do something? Mothers protected their children.
She groaned as another cramp squeezed her middle. This was not supposed to happen.
“Josie?” Art’s voice quivered, far from his usual strong tone. “Talk to me. Please.”
God, where are You?
She needed His peace. Right now. Before she pulled too far inside herself trying to protect something beyond her power and ability.
“Baby?”
Her heart broke at that word. Sobs replaced the stream of tears. Art grabbed her, pulled her tight to his chest. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Now.”
She tucked her face against his chest. Tried to pretend everything would be okay. But as she felt another gush of blood, she knew it would never be okay again.
❧
Dr. Nathan walked into her hospital room. Sorrow replaced his usual grin. “I’m sorry, Josie. There was nothing we could do.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks again, as a sense of disbelief vied with certainty. Her baby was gone.
“You should be able to have other children.”
The words, intended to comfort, only intensified the pain. The last thing she wanted to think about was other children. Right now, all she wanted was her baby. The one she would never hold. A sob slipped out. She sealed her lips tight against the threat of more.
Art moved his chair closer to the bed, grabbed her hand, and held tight. “I called your mom and dad. She’ll see about coming but didn’t sound optimistic. Something about your grandma.”
Josie nodded. She didn’t really expect her parents to come. What could they do? The pregnancy probably hadn’t seemed real to them, after all. It had only solidified for her with the doctor visit and recent baby flutters. Art stroked her hair, but she couldn’t look at him.
“We’ll keep you overnight, and then you can go home.” Dr. Nathan looked at her chart, then turned to leave. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do in situations like this.”
As soon as the doctor left, Art slipped onto the bed beside her. He held her, and she felt tears fall on her. “I’m so sorry, Josie.” His words were broken. His dreams, too, had died. What had she done to cause this pain for him? He’d never been anything but excited about having a baby. She wanted to yell at the heavens. Didn’t God know? She’d wanted this baby. Now that the baby was gone, desperation filled her. Didn’t He understand?
Four
Even though Josie insisted she could walk, Art swept her up and carried her from the backseat of the Packard into the apartment. After he ignored her protests, she’d gone still, almost listless. They’d lost a child, but now he felt like he was losing her, too. She’d retreated so far inside herself he wasn’t sure how to find her.
How could it hurt so much to lose one they’d never met? And with Josie lost in a place she’d created, he didn’t have anyone to share the pain with. What should he do? This was virgin territory for him. So he prayed. Surely God knew exactly what they each needed to move forward. There would be other children. Art had no doubt of that. But that didn’t erase his pain.
No, if anything, the pain led him straight back to the main question. Why? God could have prevented the loss. But He hadn’t.
“Here we are, Josie. Do you want to lie down in the bedroom?”
She didn’t respond. She burrowed deeper into his chest. He eased on to the couch and settled her next to him. Dr. Nathan had said she’d be back to normal in a few days. Maybe physically, but Art wondered about the rest of her.
In this unchartered water, he desperately wished someone could hand him a map.
❧
Josie tried to rouse herself. Art needed her to pull out of the pain. Could she share the depth of where her thoughts took her? Had they lost the baby because of something she’d done? Had she not been excited enough? Not appreciated the growing gift inside her?
Her thoughts were at war. Her head told her it was nonsense. But her heart felt bruised. Josie needed a reason, but there was none.
Dr. Nathan had said it was too early to know whether the baby was a girl or a boy. She’d had dreams of a little girl dressed in pleated dresses with hair a mess of blond curls. Art had sounded so certain it was a miniature him. It hadn’t really mattered, though, because in a few months they’d know. Now she wondered. Was it a daughter or a son she’d never hold? She felt tears fight for release, but she refused to succumb. She’d done nothing but cry since the cramps had begun. She gritted her teeth until her jaw ached, but tears trickled down her cheeks anyway. Yet another sign of her body betraying her.
Art rubbed small circles in her shoulders and upper back. She relaxed against him. She had done nothing to deserve his gentleness, yet he continued to pour out his love on her. So like Jesus serving others.
“Read me something.” The words squeaked out. A plea for something to soothe her.
The kneading slowed. “What would you like?”
“Anything full of hope.” How she needed that.
He reached for the Bible on the small side table. She turned her head to watch him flip through the gently worn pages. “How about a Psalm?” Without waiting for her acquiescence, he began reading.
“ ‘Be merciful unto me, O God: for man would swallow me up; he fighting daily oppresseth me.’ ” Art’s rich baritone reached deep inside her, making her believe because he believed. “ ‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. In God I will praise his word, in God I have put my trust; I will not fear what flesh can do unto me.’ ” Oh, how she needed that: the certainty that she could trust in the God she’d praised all her life. Surely, He was still there, still worthy of praise even when her heart was broken.
“ ‘Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book? When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God is for me.’ ”
God was for her. What a comforting thought. She could trust that promise. She would trust that promise. Despite what her heart felt at that moment in time. God was for her.
“ ‘In God will I praise his word: in the Lord will I praise his word. In God have I put my trust: I will not be afraid what man can do unto me. Thy vows are upon me, O God: I will render praises unto thee. For thou hast delivered my soul from death: wilt not thou deliver my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of the living?’ ”
Fresh tears wet her cheeks as she listened to the familiar words of Psalm 56. God held all of her tears. The thought was somehow comforting. He had never promised that her life would be pain free. As she wiped her cheeks, how she wished He had. No, He’d promised He would value each tear she cried. What an amazing—and absolutely humbling—thought. The God of the universe cared enough to watch and collect each tear.
