Beyond Shattered Dreams: (Sequel to Just Below the Surface), page 13
I take a deep breath and answer.
Be here at 6. I like Hawaiian. Posey likes pepperoni.
I wait a beat, then his reply pops up.
Extra ranch?
I smile.
Do you even have to ask?
I’m still smiling when I pull Posey out of her booster and carry her into the apartment.
Prescott is going to meet her. Posey is going to meet Prescott. Suddenly my nerves—which had taken a temporary leave of absence—are present and accounted for, and as I put Posey to bed, I try to steady my breathing.
Shutting her door quietly, I head back to the living room and sit in my chair. I glance at the table where I pushed Prescott away from me that night he came to see me, drunk. I’m thankful for how far he’s come, the progress he’s made, but I’m still guarded. I’m still afraid. I know he’s not the same man I met last year, not truly. But neither am I the same woman. So much has happened in the past year. More than a typical couple deals with in a decade.
Lord, can we make it through this? Past these issues? What is your plan for us?
Suddenly, I remember a verse, an all-too-familiar one that I memorized as a child and have always recited mindlessly. But now, sitting here, laying all these worries at the feet of my heavenly father, it hits me in a new way.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11.
Taking a breath, I feel a calm settle over me. Thank you, I whisper, and I realize that my life, my relationships, my family, my future… they couldn’t be in better hands.
Chapter 20
“I don’t know why I’m acting like this is a first date,” I say to Billie. It’s quarter after five on Sunday and I’m scrambling to neaten up the apartment. I’ve got my phone in my back pocket and my earbuds in.
Billie laughs. “I know, you’re so nervous. It’s Prescott, Anne, not a blind date.”
I roll my eyes but laugh. “Yes, thank you, I’m aware. It’s just that—where did I put the… oh! Here it is.” I grab my ocean breeze candle and take it to the kitchen to find a lighter. “It’s just that things are so different. It doesn’t feel the same, you know?”
“You could perform Rapunzel for him and Posey,” Billie teases.
This makes me laugh and I feel myself relax a bit. “Actually, I have done a bit of our act for Posey.” I light the candle and set it on the table.
“I should have known,” Billie says.
“Hey, when you have all this natural talent…” I walk back into the kitchen and reach into the cupboard for paper plates. Then I sigh, getting serious. “We’ve just never been in this place before, you know? Things have changed, gotten weird in some ways. I love him, Bill.” I pause, setting the plates down next to a stack of napkins. “But I feel like I have to get to know him all over again. It’s a strange place to be.”
“I get it,” Billie agrees. Then, “Just be careful, Anne. I know your emotions sometimes get the better of you.”
Even though the comment stings just a little, I know Billie says this out of genuine love and concern for me.
“I know,” I say, sighing. “I know, and I will be careful. We have a lot to talk about and he has a lot to work on. He may have had a good day or two, but it’s going to take time and work to get back to where we were when he first left.”
“I’m so happy to hear you say that,” Billie says, and I hear the relief in her voice. “Don’t make this too easy for him, Anne.”
“For sure,” I say in agreement. “I’ve been praying—a lot—about all of this. I know God is in control. I know that even if I get hurt, He will be there. I trust Him.”
“You can’t be in a better position, then,” Billie assures me.
Posey calls to me from the room where she’s choosing an outfit. “I’d better go,” I say. “I’ll text you tonight, and if it’s not too late, you can call me and I’ll fill you in.”
“Oh. Jessie and I will be waiting.”
“It’s Jessie, now, is it?”
“Maybe Jessie, maybe Mary, but spelled M-e-r-r-y after Merrick.”
I laugh. “I cannot wait til this poor girl has an official name,” I say, ending the call.
Rounding the corner into Posey’s room, I say, “Well, let’s see what you found.”
Beaming, she holds up a sundress with little blue anchors and whales on it.
“Perfect.” I help her get dressed.
After pulling her hair into pigtails and tying little blue ribbons around them, Posey stands facing the mirror, obviously loving what she sees. I laugh and give her a squeeze. I glance at my phone. It’s almost six.
“Hey,” I begin. “Remember the picture of my friend you had in your little house you built?”
She nods.
“Well, he’s coming to visit tonight.” My voice is cheery and I’m hoping she hears only excitement, not my nervousness. “Aaaaand,” I add, drawing out the word for anticipation. “He’s bringing pizza!”
Posey does a little jump up and down and squeals softly. “I love pizza!”
“I know.” I laugh. “So do I.”
“Can I show him my new sandals?”
“Yes, of course,” I say, as if it should be obvious. “He’ll probably want to get a pair just like them.”
“No he won’t,” Posey says through a fit of giggles.
“You never know,” I tease in a sing-song voice.
Her laughter is contagious, and we’re both cracking up when the apartment buzzer rings.
* * *
I swallow down the butterflies as I pull the door open.
Prescott is standing there, several pizza boxes stacked under his right arm, and I’m impressed at how he’s adapting, though I don’t say so out loud. I smile, swing the door open and stand back, and I see his face the moment his eyes fall on Posey.
I can’t quite make out his expression. Shock? Wonder?
I have told him exactly nothing about the girl that’s standing before him. The girl that’s not even bothering to hide her excitement at meeting a new person, one that is my friend. The girl that’s twisting a bit back and forth, clearly wanting to show off her attire.
“Let me grab these,” I say, reaching for the pizza boxes. Prescott lets me take them, still staring at Posey.
I set the boxes on the dining table and turn toward them both.
“Posey,” I say cheerily. “I want you to meet my very good friend, Prescott.” I look up at him. “Prescott…” I gently lay a hand on her shoulder, and he finally meets my eyes. “This is Posey. My foster daughter.”
I see Prescott swallow hard, and then he’s squatting down at Posey’s eye level. His voice is a bit gravelly when he says, “It’s very nice to meet you, Posey.”
Posey twists one more time, glancing down at her whale-and-anchor sundress.
Prescott catches on. “That’s a very pretty dress.”
Posey smiles even brighter and thanks him. Then she points her arm in the direction of the table. “You brought pizza,” she says delightedly.
I see Prescott’s eyes linger on the little hand missing the fingers for just a moment before he swallows. “I sure did. I heard the ladies of this house love pizza.”
“We do!” squeals Posey, and she sashays to the table, making sure her sundress is shown to the best advantage.
Prescott laughs and stands back up. Our gazes meet. Once again, I find I cannot quite read the expression there.
I start to turn to the table toward the pizza when I feel Prescott’s hand softly touch my arm. I turn back to him.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
I nod and turn to Posey. “Let’s eat!”
Prescott kicks off his shoes next to the door and joins us at the table.
I look at Posey and ask, “Would you like to ask Prescott what he’d like to drink?”
We’ve been practicing “hosting” with dolls, and I know she can’t wait to put her new skill to use on a real person.
“What would you like to drink, Prescott? We have,” she tips her head in thought, “milk, juice, and tea. Oh, and water. And you can have ice if you want.”
“I’d love some ice water, please,” Prescott says politely, and I’m glad he’s indulging her.
“Coming right up!” She uses her favorite line.
I don’t say a word as Posey moves to the kitchen, knowing Prescott wants to watch her. I let him, sitting back and enjoying the feeling of pride swelling in my chest. Posey is amazing, and I love when people get to witness it for themselves.
Posey hoists herself up onto her belly, and gently pulls a plastic cup with cartoon characters on it toward her. Then, she slides off the counter back onto the floor, holding the cup with her little arms. We watch as she turns, clutches the cup to her chest with one arm, and pushes the ice button on the door of the fridge with the other. Then, using both arms, she pushes the cup against the lever and lets the ice fill the cup about halfway. She repeats the process with the water button, then brings the cup to Prescott and sets it on the table.
Prescott is staring at her. Posey is oblivious. She climbs back up on her chair, smiling.
Prescott turns to me. His eyes are wide but he’s trying not to make his surprise apparent.
I shrug, taking a sip of my own tea. “She’s amazing,” I say, like it’s no big deal.
* * *
Posey has gone to bed, and Prescott and I are sitting on the couch together. We’re each on one end, turned to face each other.
“I had no idea.” Prescott murmurs. “Why didn’t you tell me about Posey?”
“It’s not something that ever came up naturally in conversation. I thought it would be some time before you met her.” I lift one shoulder, let it fall. “I’m still figuring it all out, you know?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I get it. It’s just…” His voice trails off and his brow furrows. “She seems so happy.”
I’m a little irritated at his statement. “Should she not be?” I ask incredulously.
“No,” he says quickly, then runs his hand through his hair. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just was surprised at how well she does. With everything,” he adds.
I sigh, and I try to understand where he’s coming from. “She was born without her hands. She’s never known anything else. From what I know, the aunt that raised her up until now was very good to her. Taught her to be independent, polite… she’s just all around a great kid.” I pause, thinking of my next words. “No one ever told her she was disabled. She knows she’s different, yes, but she doesn’t see it as a bad thing. She looks at it no differently than someone having different color hair, or skin, or being taller than her. She sees herself as unique.” Then I say quietly, “It’s one of the things I love most about her.”
Prescott looks at me, his eyes searching mine. I don’t know if he wants to ask me a question or tell me what he’s thinking. He just stares for a moment. I wait, allowing him to organize his thoughts.
Finally, he says, “I like her, too.”
It’s not what I expected him to say, but it makes me smile. I think back over the night. Posey was immediately drawn to Prescott. When he sat on the couch, she climbed up and sat next to him. When he spoke, she listened as if it were the most important thing she could be doing at the moment. She asked him questions, and, at one point in the night, she reached out to him and laid her little arm right on his left one. She never said a word, but it was clear what she was implying. We’re alike, you and me. We’re both special. Then she had smiled up at him, and I had watched Prescott melt from the inside.
“She is great,” I say. Then I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I just decide to say it. “I’ve decided to apply for adoption.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? Anne, that’s great! She… she’s really blessed to have you.”
“Thank you. I know it won’t be easy. But I already love her so much.” I blink back a tear and laugh. “Oh my gosh, I’m already turning into a sap.”
“Eh, you were always a sap,” he teases.
I toss a decorative pillow at him.
“So, wow,” he says. “Big changes coming.”
I nod. “Hopefully. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be approved. I’m so new at this. My foster care worker, Felicia, is drawing up the documents and everything. There’s so much paperwork, and a judge that handles her case, and it all can be a bit overwhelming.” I take a breath. “So, it’s all in God’s hands.”
Prescott moves to sit closer to me on the couch, and I find myself holding my breath, not wanting to move. I feel the heat of him as he sits right next to me—or, in front of me, since we’re still facing each other—his knee pressing against mine.
“Anne,” he says, his voice low.
I feel the familiar warmth spread through me, that feeling of being near him, of needing to touch him, needing him to wrap his arms around me. But I’m afraid to give in to it. He hurt me, and I should remain guarded. But I long for the Prescott I fell in love with, and it’s like he’s sitting here in front of me now.
“Prescott,” I begin. “I don’t know if—”
He grabs my hand with his. It’s warm and strong and I hate how much I love it. Stay strong, I tell myself.
“I messed up,” he says quickly, before I can speak again. “I was in a bad way and I took it out on you. I hated myself and I wanted you to hate me too.” He looks at me, and I can see the truth of his words in his eyes. “You hating me was better than me disappointing you.”
“Why would you think you’d disappoint me?” I ask. “You had no control over what happened. I loved you for you, and nothing could’ve changed that. Did you have so little faith in my love for you?” I don’t bother to hide the hurt I know he can hear in my voice.
“I told you, I hated myself. I was so angry, so hurt that God allowed this to happen to me. Just when I thought everything was going perfect. I mean—” He lets go of my hand and reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “The future I saw with you, Anne. It was perfect.” He takes my hand again.
“There is no such thing as a perfect life,” I say. “No such thing as a perfect relationship. Neither of us are perfect. And if you expect perfection, you’ll just be disappointed.”
He nods. “I know. I know, I’m learning that. What I said, Anne, about Posey looking happy?” He waits for me to nod in understanding. “I wasn’t implying that she doesn’t deserve happiness. I was in awe at her happiness. I was envious of it.”
I reach up, cupping the side of his face with my free hand. “Prescott,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I’m sorry for the process you’ve had to endure. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you when it happened. But you can move on. You can be happy again.”
“I know that now,” he says, before lowering his head.
I panic and turn my head slightly, feeling his warm lips on my cheek.
“Sorry,” he blurts. “It’s too soon, I know.” Then presses his forehead to mine. “It’s just that I’ve missed you. So much,” he whispers.
My eyes slide closed and I think about the despair I felt when I thought he didn’t care anymore. I open my eyes and simply answer, “Thank you.”
He backs away, giving us a little space.
“I don’t want to rush things, Anne. I want this to be… right between us.”
“Me too,” I say quickly, not wanting him to think he’s being rejected.
It’s just that I’m still protecting my heart right now, and I don’t want to jump headfirst into this like I’m prone to do. I reach over and give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you,” I repeat. “For giving this—us—time.”
I see just a hint of sadness in his smile, but he nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Well, you’re worth it.”
My heart skips a beat, and I realize that I’m beginning to fall in love all over again.
Chapter 21
The following week is a dream. Prescott, Posey and I spend time together whenever we can. I can’t say it feels like old times; there are definitely some changes in Prescott I’ll have to get used to. Then, there’s Posey added to the mix. But I feel like we’re on our way to something new. Something fresh. It’s different, yes, but it’s still me and Prescott, learning to live life together.
Posey absolutely adores him. He continues to be impressed by every little thing she does, and in a way, I think he’s inspired by her. He no longer complains about physical therapy—as if he knows now that it can only benefit him. He loves to show Posey new exercises he’s learned, and she’s always delighted to do them with him. There’s even been a time or two when she’s shown him little tricks of getting things done one-handed, and I love the air of pride she exudes when he praises her. I’m just in love with their budding relationship.
Now it’s Saturday and the three of us are on our way to Penny and Will’s for Prescott’s birthday barbecue.
I’m driving, and Posey is in the back seat, softly singing along with the music. She’s got the cutest outfit on. Red-and-white checkered shorts that look picnic-ready, and a white shirt with ruffly sleeves and a heart with the same checkered pattern. I worried about putting her in white for a barbecue, then I decided it doesn’t matter if she spills on her outfit. She’s got plenty more. Billie and I have sort of lost our minds when it comes to shopping for Posey. It’s a good thing we’re both bargain hunters, because otherwise we’d be in trouble.
Prescott sits in the passenger seat, having spent the morning with us. He’s staring out the window, his face contemplative. I’ve noticed he does this often lately. Stares, thinking. Before his accident, Prescott never ran out of things to say. There was never a quiet moment between us, unless we were both chewing or watching a movie. Conversation has been easy and comfortable for us since we met.
