Loving Tenderness, page 8
Hannah blinked as if his comment surprised her.
Before he opened his mouth to explain, his cell phone chimed, and remembering Philip’s earlier call, he grabbed the phone from his pocket.
Philip’s voice came through the line. “It’s Jemma. She’s in hard labor. Can you take care of Ellie until Claire can close the store and get over here? I hate to ruin the picnic.”
“The picnic? What’s more important than you and Jemma? I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“Is it Jemma?” Hannah asked, her eyes inquiring as she kept pace with his brisk strides.
“He asked me to watch Ellie. They need to leave for the hospital. Do you mind catching a ride home with Jenni?”
“I’d like to go with you if you don’t mind.”
Her response surprised him. “Not at all, but what about JJ?”
“He’ll come along.” She sounded breathless. “Maybe I can help with Ellie.”
He didn’t argue and liked the idea of having her company. The excitement of the new baby kicked in, and he kept his strides fast and steady until they returned to the picnickers.
Hannah hurried away to find JJ while Andrew packed up the chairs and the items Hannah had brought. Soon Hannah returned with a pouting son, and Andrew couldn’t blame the boy. JJ didn’t want to miss the fun.
“Are you sure?” he asked Hannah, tilting his head toward JJ.
She nodded. “I’m sure. He’ll be fine when he meets Ellie.”
Andrew didn’t ask again. He hurried them back to the car with the picnic gear and headed for Philip’s. When Andrew pulled in front of his brother’s house, the door flew open, and Philip darted outside with a small suitcase. “We’ve waited too long,” he called in passing.
Philip’s words fell like a weight in Andrew’s gut, and he eyed Jemma who stood in the doorway, kissing Ellie goodbye. He could see the pain on her face and the stress in her posture.
Though Ellie whined at her mother’s leaving, she changed her attitude when Andrew called hello.
“Unkie And’woo.” She opened her arms, beaming a sweet smile and ran toward him as his chest knotted.
“We’ll be fine,” he said to Jemma who hadn’t moved from the porch. “This is Hannah Currey and JJ. They’ve come to help.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jemma said, trying to look pleasant when she was obviously in distress.
“You’d better be on your way,” Hannah said, waving them off. “We can visit some other time.”
Jemma gave her a weak smile and hugged Andrew. “Thanks. Claire should be here in an hour or so.”
Philip helped her down the porch steps, his look tense, and hovered over her as Jemma slid into the sedan.
Andrew cuddled Ellie in his arms, wrapped in her unconditional love, so unlike much of his life. When Philip’s car had disappeared down the highway, Andrew pushed open the door and beckoned Hannah to enter.
JJ gave a curious look at Ellie. “Can she talk?”
Andrew chuckled. “She talks up a storm, JJ, and she has some pretty nice toys, too.”
Hannah shooed him inside and followed.
“Girl toys?” JJ asked charging ahead.
Andrew shut the door and strode into the living. “Not all girl toys. She has blocks and books.”
“Blocks,” Ellie said, squirming to get down. “Let’s play.” She charged across the room and opened a wooden bench beneath the window. A large bag of building blocks tumbled to the floor.
JJ only took a minute to dart across the room and collapse into the midst of them.
“Have a seat,” Andrew said to Hannah while she stood back near the archway.
Her eyes shifted as she took in the room, then she ambled in and sat on the sofa. “They have a pretty house,” she said, running her hand across the upholstery. “This is expensive.”
Andrew shrugged. “It’s Jemma’s taste, I think. She likes the antiques and sturdy pieces of furniture. When Philip lived at the resort, he had contemporary. Nice, but nothing this fancy.” He gestured toward the grandfather clock and the seating arrangement around the fireplace.
“How you doing?” Andrew asked, wandering toward the children. He knelt beside Ellie and brushed hair from her eyes. “Do you know where your mommy went?”
“To bwing a new baby home.”
“Right. Did you put in an order? What do you want—a brother or sister?”
She gave the question a lengthy thought as she stacked one block on another before she answered. Finally she giggled. “Just a baby.”
“I’m sure you’ll get that, my little sugar cake.” He patted her cheek.
JJ handed him a block. “Build a fort.”
“A fort?” Andrew gave Hannah a silly grin and settled onto the floor, his legs crossed Indian-style.
Hannah watched from across the room, her heart tugging at the sight of Andrew with the children. She had volunteered to come to the house, thinking Andrew might not be comfortable caring for the little girl, but she’d been very wrong. Ellie had run to him as if he were the ice cream man, her arms open and a huge smile on her face. He’d lifted her into his arms with so much love and ease, Hannah knew it hadn’t been the first time.
Andrew lined up the blocks, responding to JJ’s constant chatter, and Hannah relished the sight of her son with a man who gave him attention. She’d tried to compensate for Jack’s disinterest, but nothing could provide a father’s love like a father. She realized Andrew wasn’t her son’s father and never would be, but his manly interest gave JJ something he’d never known before.
Her gaze drifted back to the elegant living room. The blocks and toy bench seemed so incongruous in the lovely surroundings. Jemma had created the perfect conversational setting around the fireplace. Closer to the living-room entrance, the sofa and a chair formed a reading area. Hannah noticed the pile of magazines beneath the table and, on it, a novel with a bookmark placed between the pages.
She glanced again at the children and Andrew, deep in concentration while building the fort. Even Ellie handed him blocks without toppling the creation.
Hannah looked below the table at the magazines and pulled one out. Architectural Digest. She flipped through the pages, viewing the elegant homes and furnishing ads. She’d grown up in a house with threadbare upholstery and nicked pine furniture. The pictures on the wall were jigsaw puzzles her mother had placed on adhesive paper and framed. They’d brightened the room, but when the light hit them just so, she could see the grooves and shapes of the pieces.
Hannah’s life had been like those puzzle pieces—a blur of colors and patterns that never revealed a clear picture. The picture had become clearer when JJ was born, and at that moment she’d known smoothing the ruts from their lives was her goal. When she’d finally loosened herself from Jack, she’d felt free, but then he’d returned with a vengeance.
She had to keep JJ safe. What could she do to protect him when Jack got out of jail? She had to make changes. She wanted Jack out of her life forever.
Hannah dropped the magazine in her lap, feeling a sudden sense of grief. She had to remain strong. She had to find courage to keep Jack out of her life. She’d met nice people today. They’d treated her as an equal. And she was, Hannah reminded herself. She was a child of God. Even in the midst of their chaotic life, her mother had taught her that. She could still picture Jesus’s outstretched arms, inviting her into his embrace. Why did she fight the invitation?
She glanced at her watch. She and Andrew had arrived nearly an hour ago, and now her thoughts turned to Jemma and her labor. Hannah recalled her own labor, which had taken place while Jack sat in a bar. She’d been unable to find him, and a neighbor had taken her to the hospital. Eventually Jack had shown up, his chest bursting with pride that she’d given him a son. He’d insisted he be named after him—Jack Darren Currey, Junior. That was the last day Jack seemed to care about JJ.
Hannah caught herself and stopped her negative thoughts. Andrew had become a special friend. She liked him, and he knew about her past and said he didn’t care. She had to learn to trust.
“Anyone hungry?” Andrew asked from across the room.
Though four hours had passed since they’d eaten, Hannah hadn’t felt the twinges of hunger. She’d only felt the ever-present gnawing sensation from earlier that day when she’d tried to eat a hot dog at the picnic.
At Andrew’s question, Ellie jumped up and clapped her hands while JJ’s face brightened at the mention of food. Andrew beckoned to her and slipped through the archway with the two children on his heels.
Hannah took the hint he wanted her help and entered the kitchen. She faltered in the doorway, seeing the expanse of cabinets in rich oak and the striking rust-colored counter tops. Andrew stood beside the center island, reading a note.
“Ready to eat?” His eyes met hers, then waved the scrawled message in her direction. “Jemma says there’s plenty in the fridge that she planned for the picnic.”
When she opened the refrigerator, Hannah found salads, sliced ham and a scrumptious-looking bakery cake. Andrew joined her, setting the table while she pulled out the food, but as they sat down for supper, the telephone rang, followed by the doorbell.
As Andrew headed for the phone, Hannah hurried to the entrance. As she suspected, Claire stood on the porch, and Hannah grinned at Claire’s look of surprise. “I was with Andrew at the picnic when Philip called,” she said, explaining before Claire asked.
“Thanks for coming with him,” Claire said, sweeping into the room.
“Nana,” Ellie cried when Claire stepped into the kitchen.
But when she looked at Andrew’s face, Hannah’s heart squeezed with concern.
“Claire’s here now,” Andrew said. “I’m coming up, Philip.”
“What is it?” Claire asked as soon as he hung up the receiver.
“Complications. Umbilical cord prolapse, and they’re doing a cesarean section.”
“No,” Hannah moaned, filled with dread. “The baby’s been cut off from its oxygen supply.”
“If the physician works fast, Philip said, everything will be fine.”
Hannah drew in a ragged breath. “But an emergency cesarean isn’t good.”
Claire gave a knowing nod as if she understood. “She’s right, Andrew. You go to your brother, and I’ll take over here.”
“No, please,” Hannah said, “let me stay with the children. Claire, you should go, too.”
Claire held up her hand. “I can be helpful with all kinds of problems, but not this one. I’d feel more useful staying here. Hannah, you go with him.”
“No. This is a family matter. I can call a cab. You go ahead, Andrew. Please.”
Andrew shook his head as he headed for the door. “The hospital isn’t that far from your house. I’ll drop you off.”
“And you’ll let me know how—”
He touched her cheek, stopping her words. “You know I’ll keep you posted.”
Andrew eyed the waiting-room wall clock, then checked his watch. Time seemed to stand still. Philip had paced the floor from the moment Andrew had arrived, and no matter what he said Philip wouldn’t sit.
“You’re wearing out the carpet,” Andrew said. “Let me get you some coffee.”
Philip only shook his head. “What’s taking so long?”
He strode across the room to the desk, and Andrew’s heart broke watching his brother’s anguish.
Marriage and family had begun to settle in Andrew’s thoughts. He’d always told himself that he had nothing to offer a woman, but Hannah seemed different. She had none of the expectations most people had of the Somervilles. She’d come from a family with so little, yet she’d done her best and made a life of nothing. Why couldn’t he do the same?
Hannah always made Andrew smile. He knew why she’d offered to come to Philip’s: she’d figured he’d be useless babysitting his niece, but he’d fooled her. He’d seen the surprise on her face when Ellie had bounded into his arms. He didn’t want to be cocky, but he’d proved to himself that the past hadn’t totally destroyed the love of family. Envy had wheedled its way into his thoughts, but hadn’t destroyed the love he still felt for Philip. He’d just had a difficult time showing it.
JJ had been an eye-opener, too. Sure, he figured loving his niece was natural, but loving a child who was no relation, that was another story. But that’s what had happened. He found himself doting on the young boy.
Andrew shifted his gaze and noticed a surgeon in the hallway outside the waiting room. Philip seemed to notice at the same time. He darted across the room and met the man before he came through the doorway.
Nailed to his seat, Andrew watched the drama unfold and finally could no longer contain himself, but rose and joined the two men.
“She’s not out of the woods,” the physician said.
Fear surged through Andrew. The baby or Jemma? He clamped his mouth closed rather than interrupt their conversation.
“We’re doing all we can, but it will be twenty-four hours or more before we can be certain.”
“The baby?” Andrew whispered, giving in to his uncontrollable worry.
Philip’s head gave a slow shake. “It’s Jemma.” His voice trembled, and tears sprang to his eyes.
Jemma? Dear Lord, no. Andrew’s prayer flew to heaven.
“Your son is in good health,” the physician continued. “You can see him in a few minutes. I’ll have a nurse let you know.” He took a step backward. “I’m sorry, Mr. Somerville. I wish I had better news.”
Philip stood frozen in place as the doctor turned and left.
Andrew stared at his brother in disbelief. “What happened?”
“She reacted to the anesthesia and stopped breathing.”
Andrew didn’t understand, but it wasn’t time to ply his brother with questions. He rested his hand on Philip’s shoulder.
Philip continued without question. “During an emergency they have to use general anesthesia and that has a risk factor. She went into respiratory arrest.”
Respiratory arrest. The words cut through Andrew’s heart and his defenses. Without thought, Andrew drew his brother into his arms and embraced him. Philip pressed his face against Andrew’s neck and sobbed while tears rolled from Andrew’s eyes and joined Philip’s.
“Heavenly Father,” Andrew whispered through his sorrow, “be with Jemma and hold her in Your healing hand. You can make all things right, and with You, nothing is impossible. Lord, we understand Your will. Your needs are first in our lives, but Father, please remember Ellie and their new son…” A son. The word hadn’t sunk in until now. “…their new son who needs a mother so badly, and Philip who wants his wife by his side.”
“Thank you,” Philip murmured as he pulled back and withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his eyes, then blew his nose and grasped Andrew’s hand. “It’s good to have you here. This means more to me than anything.”
Andrew’s thoughts spiraled. This means more to me than anything. Could Philip forget? How could he forgive the years Andrew had been away? The time he’d avoided coming home for their father’s funeral? Squandering the family money? But the sincerity in Philip’s eyes quelled the negative thoughts running through Andrew’s mind. “It means more than you know for me to be here, Philip. I love you and Jemma. I’ve probably never said that before.”
“You didn’t have to,” Philip said. He finally moved from the hallway and returned to the waiting room, but this time he found a chair and sank into it.
Andrew sat beside him, wishing he could think of something to say, but nothing seemed worthwhile except the prayer he’d sent heavenward.
Hannah rose in his thoughts. He needed to call her, but more than the call, Andrew realized that Hannah had become a primary part of his life. Since he’d found her and JJ on the highway, their lives had begun to intertwine, and Andrew clung to the warm feeling.
Friendship. His jaw tightened. Friendship had become too weak a word. Relationship didn’t seem strong enough. What were they? His pulse picked up speed as he pondered the reality that swept over him. He could no longer dismiss the growing feelings, the emotion that he’d tried to avoid and the longing he’d fought to quell.
Chapter Eight
Propped on her elbow, Hannah clung to the bedroom phone receiver, feeling the worry in Andrew’s early-morning call. Though she’d only met Jemma for a moment, she’d heard so many nice things about her, and she knew Jemma was esteemed in the community. She and Philip were strong Christians who didn’t deserve such sadness.
She never understood sorrow, except she knew it happened for God’s purpose, a purpose she would never understand until she met the Lord face to face.
Andrew’s tired voice had dragged through the phone line. He’d called her last evening and again this morning. Anxious to see him, Hannah had offered him breakfast, and he’d agreed to stop by. Needing to get up and make the meal she’d promised, Hannah slipped her feet from beneath the sheet.
The Memorial Day holiday provided Hannah a day to relax. She tiptoed to her son’s room, and JJ’s silence attested to the fact that he was still sleeping. Hannah reveled in the luxury of stepping into the shower in silence and letting the warm water wash over her tired, tense body while her prayer rose to heaven. “I’m tired of fighting you, Lord,” she said aloud, “and I’m sure You’re tired of my struggle. Help me to hold on to Your promises, and to learn that You know what’s best for us all.”
The words left her, yet she asked herself what good could come from Jemma losing her life to bring a new child into the world. It all seemed so unfair, so unbelievably horrible. The ulcer, Hannah suspected racked her belly, and she swallowed the gnawing sensation that had surged through her the past month.
She dressed quickly, checked on JJ again, then strode to the kitchen to prepare coffee. While the maker gurgled and dripped liquid into the pot, she pulled eggs and sausage from the refrigerator.
