Beyond Shattered Dreams: (Sequel to Just Below the Surface), page 17
Prescott eats quietly, listening.
“But then, when I saw Nicole that day and she had me come over, then I saw you and realized…” I gesture to his arm. “It was as if all those plans, fantasies about life, my dreams… they just… shattered. And there it all was, at my feet, in pieces.” I realize that as I speak to Prescott, this is really the first time I’m admitting this all to myself.
Needing a moment before continuing, I cut into my Coney dog with my knife and fork and take a bite. After swallowing, I say, “And then Posey brought a bit of sunshine back into my life. You started healing. I started to gather the broken pieces, thinking that God and I would put them back together—just the way they were before. My plan.” I shrug, setting my fork and knife down again. “But my dreams don’t look like they used to. Shattered, broken pieces make a totally different kind of picture, don’t they?”
I didn’t really expect an answer, but Prescott says, “Yes. They really do.”
The waitress returns to our table with fresh Cokes and sets down the bill before rushing away to another table.
Prescott asks me what the process is with the great-aunt, and I explain that she’ll have visits for Posey to get to know her, and they’ll go from there.
“It’s a whole thing,” I say, waving my hand. “And I just know I’m going to be a nervous wreck while Posey is having her visits.”
Prescott reaches to grab my hand. “Anne. It’s going to be okay. Call me each time she goes. I can come and sit with you.”
“Thank you.” I mean it. I’ve been supporting him in everything he’s going through, and it’s nice to have that support reciprocated.
We finish our meal with lighter conversation. I don’t mind. I have a lot to think about when I get back to work. Thankfully, I have a dresser to sand down and stain. That means I’ll get a lot of alone time in the waiting room.
After we say goodbye, I climb into my car and start to pull out of the parking lot when my phone dings. I stop, glancing at my text messages to make sure it’s not important.
My stomach drops when I read the text from Felicia.
Vicky set up a time to meet with Posey. Tomorrow evening, 6 p.m.
Chapter 27
I’m curled on my chair in the living room with a blanket, watching Posey at the dining table playing with her wooden blocks. They came into the store the other day, and after cleaning them, I bought them for myself and took them home. Posey loves them. They’re on the large side, so they’re easy for her to grab and maneuver. So far she’s made a bed for her dolls, a house, a maze, and a car wash. That one made me laugh. She absolutely loves going through the car wash, especially since the one down the street has rainbow soap. Sometimes I take her through even if the car doesn’t need it, just because I love to hear her little squeals of delight.
Today, she’s building a bridge. She said it’s magic, and when you cross it, you enter into any movie you want. I just love her imagination.
As she plays and builds, I video chat with Billie.
“Marianne,” Billie is saying. “Like from Sense and Sensibility. “Although Elinor is cute, too.”
I laugh. “I won’t be able to keep this poor girl’s name straight after she’s born. She’s already had so many in her short little life.”
“Uuuugghh,” Billie tips her head back, drawing out the groan. “I just want it to be perfect.”
“Why don’t you just wait till she’s born? See what she looks like.”
Billie thinks about this. “Well, what if she looks like a name I don’t like?”
I shake my head, hiding my laughter. “And I thought I was the cousin who can’t make up her mind. Pregnancy has made you, well, more like me,” I tease.
Billie sighs. “That’s not a bad thing, you know. I’ve always wished I could be as creative as you.”
“Aw.” I smile. “Thanks.”
Posey’s bridge suddenly collapses, causing a fit of giggling and squealing from Posey.
“Oh no, what was that?” Billie asks. “Do you need to go?”
“No,” I say, laughing. “She’s fine. Just her blocks falling from the table.”
“Hey.” Billie suddenly sounds serious. “How are you doing? With the aunt being involved now and all.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I lower my voice, even though it’s clear Posey isn’t paying attention to me. When she’s not concentrating on the blocks, she’s glancing at the cartoon on the TV.
“So, the aunt set up a time to meet with Posey. Tomorrow I’ll drop her off at the agency and Vicky will pick her up for a few hours.”
“She’ll get to take Posey to her house?”
“Not sure. I think so. All I know is I have to pick her back up from the agency after a few hours.”
“Wow.” Billie lets out a breath. “Are you going to be alright?”
I nod. “Yeah. Prescott is coming over while she’s gone. It’ll help keep my mind off it.”
“Good,” says Billie. “And you know that if he ever can’t be there, I can.”
I smile at her through the phone. “I know.”
Then, wanting to change the subject, I ask, “Are you getting excited about the baby shower?”
“Oh. My. Gosh. Yes!” Billie says in her way. “But it’s scary, too, because after the shower, I only have two months left!”
I squeal quietly, trying not to startle Posey.
We chat about the shower, which is at a cute little hall in town. I offer to help Billie with her registry if Merrick isn’t up to it, and she assures me that it’s possible that he’s more excited about registering than she is.
“Of course,” I say, because Merrick is nothing if not unexpected in every way. He constantly surprises me.
After a while we end the call and I help Posey clean up and get ready for bed. After she’s tucked in and drifting off, I head to the kitchen to make a tea to calm my nerves. Sitting back on the chair with my tea and blanket, I pray.
Lord, You know how hard tomorrow will be for me. I know Your plan is the best plan. If this Aunt Vicky is truly the best thing for Posey, then I give it over to You completely. I trust You. It’s so hard, God, but I trust You. Just help me accept Your plan, no matter what it is.
A little while later, when I’m done praying, I realize there are little wet spots on my blanket. They’re from my tears.
* * *
Ben suggests that I take the next day off so I can spend it with Posey. I don’t even argue. I know I need it.
When we wake up, I make French toast with strawberries and powdered sugar. I take the pizza cutter and cut Posey’s into perfect little squares, and she laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever.
“That’s not pizza,” she says between giggles.
“True, but there’s nothing wrong with being a little creative. If I used a knife, the bread would tear and it would be messy. This—” I hold up the pizza cutter, “makes the cuts clean and the squares perfect.”
Posey nods in agreement, still giggling. She climbs up on her chair, and I place her plate before her. I let her pray (she loves to pray over food) and she begins stabbing the little French toast squares with the fork placed just right between her hand and wrist. Then, with a careful maneuver, she turns her wrist and hand, bringing the fork to her mouth.
I never get tired of watching her. She is unbelievably smart and innovative.
After breakfast, we get ready for the day and head to the park. I put a sweater on Posey, hardly believing it’s already September. At the park, we swing, slide, and run around. All too soon it’s lunchtime, and we head to a little burger place nearby.
As I eat my burger and Posey eats her chicken nuggets, I tell her about her visit with her aunt.
“Do I have to live with her?” Posey asks, and I can’t miss the note of panic in her little voice.
“No,” I say quickly. “At least, not now.” I take a sip of my iced tea. “Tonight, you’ll go with her for a little while, just to get to know her. She’s your great-aunt, and it might be nice to meet some family.”
Posey looks a little disappointed—an unusual countenance for her. “Can I just stay with you? Can’t you just be my family?” she asks quietly.
I swallow hard and will the tears to stay out of my eyes. What in the world will I do if Posey is taken from me?
“Posey,” I start. “I would love to be your forever family.” I swallow. “But as an aunt of your mother’s, she would like to get to know you, too. Since she has been related to you longer, it’s only fair that she gets to visit with you and see if you… fit,” I finish lamely, not knowing what else to say, or how to say it.
“What if we don’t like each other?”
“What’s not to like about you?” I say, tapping her nose and grinning. I need to put her at ease as much as I’m trying to put myself there. “She will adore you.”
Posey drops her head a little, making a sad face I rarely see on her. “What if I don’t like her?”
My heart breaks. Posey seems to like everyone. She gets along with nearly everyone she meets, and they love her. I hate that she’s worried about this now.
“Hey.” I change the subject. “After we finish our lunch, what do you say we head over to see Billie?”
“Yay! Yes!” Posey says, delighted.
I’m thankful it doesn’t take much to distract her.
* * *
Billie greets us at the door, having received my text telling her we were on our way. The first thing Posey does is run up and lean in to pat her belly and plant a kiss right at the center. Billie and I both laugh.
“I think you’re more excited to meet little Betsy than I am.” Billie laughs. Then she looks at me. “Now that I say it out loud, not Betsy.”
I laugh. “Not Betsy,” I agree.
Billie waves us in and we spend the next hour and a half sitting on stools at her kitchen island, frosting sugar cookies she’d made earlier. She put the different colors of frosting in bags, tied them tightly with rubber bands, and cut them open at the other end, making them easy for Posey to squeeze over the cookies. They look like like little rainbow messes, but Posey is having a blast.
After washing up, we display the frosted cookies on the counter for Merrick to see when he’s off work and comes down from his office. Posey slides all of hers to the front in a perfect row, ensuring they’ll be the first ones Merrick sees. Billie’s eyes dance with laughter as she tells Posey that Merrick will surely love her cookies the best. Posey beams.
I glance at the clock now. In just a little over an hour, I’ll be dropping Posey off to spend the evening with Vicky. My stomach flips with nerves.
Oh Lord, I pray silently. I’m trying so hard to trust You right now. Help me.
At that moment, a verse pops into my head.
Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your soul.
Thank You, God. I pray. Thank You.
All too soon, we’re hugging Billie—and Posey is hugging Billie’s belly—and we’re headed off down the street. And I have a peace that I haven’t felt in days. I believe God is in control. I know He is. And I know He has our best interests in mind, no matter what the outcome may be.
I just have to trust Him.
Chapter 28
I pull up to the agency, and it feels like an entire family of butterflies is fighting to escape my stomach. I get Posey out of the car, straighten her dress, smooth her hair, and give her a big smile. One that I hope looks genuine.
She places her little wrist in my hand, and we walk in together.
* * *
I get into my car and immediately text Prescott. Just dropped her off.
Prescott: How are you doing?
Okay. I guess.
My phone rings a few seconds later and I answer immediately.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Wanna meet?”
I love that he gets right to the point. “Yes. Can you just come over?”
“On my way.”
I drive home, and when I pull into the parking lot of my building, Prescott is standing outside of a black truck.
I point, and he knows what I’m asking.
He shrugs. “It was time for a change. I test drove a bunch until I found one that was most comfortable to drive one-handed. This was it.”
“I love it,” I say, smiling. “You’ll have to take me for a ride later.”
“Absolutely.” Then he holds out his right hand. “Come on.”
We walk in together, and as soon as I close the door to my apartment and set my purse down, Prescott pulls me to him.
I can’t help it then. I start to cry.
“This is so hard,” I manage to get out between sobs. “I don’t know how other foster parents do this. I don’t think I can…” I let my voice trail off.
Prescott releases me and steps back so he can look at me. “You can do this, Anne.”
I look up at him, knowing my face looks crazy with all the tears. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” I ask, and he starts laughing.
“We are. But at least we’re a mess together.” He pulls me back to him, squeezing me.
Finally, I pull away, telling him that I don’t want to waste our night crying.
I make a pot of coffee, and once we’re settled on the couch, I glance at my watch. It’s only been forty minutes. Ugh.
“Hey,” he says. “Stop checking that thing every three minutes.”
“I’m not—” I start to protest, then stop. “I totally am.”
He sips his coffee, then sets it on the coffee table in front of us. Then he gently takes my cup from my hands, placing it beside his. Then he turns to face me.
“Anne.”
“Prescott?”
He laughs softly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
My heart drops. “Oh, Prescott, if you’re going to give me bad news, I swear—”
“Stop, Miss Dramatic,” he says, smiling.
I laugh a little. “Sorry.”
“Why are you assuming the worst?”
“Oh, gee, I don’t know.” Sarcasm drips from my tone. “Maybe it’s because every time I think everything is going well, some kind of reality bomb gets dropped into my lap, or in my path, or on my head, or—”
I stop abruptly when Prescott throws his head back, laughing. “Anne, you are literally the most dramatic person I know.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I’ve been told.”
He shifts on the couch to face me fully, and then gently pulls my knee to urge me to do the same. Once we’re facing each other, he reaches up and softly runs a finger across my jawline. I swallow. My stomach flips again, but this time, it’s a more pleasant feeling.
“You know I love you, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” I blurt.
“No, Anne. No more rushing through our conversations. No more emotional answers to get through whatever it is we’re going through at the moment.”
I open my mouth to protest, but his hand is still at my jaw, and he places his thumb over my lips to stop me from saying anything.
“When is the last time we talked about us?” he asks softly. “Really talked. There’s been so much happening. Both of us have been through incredible changes. Both of us have grown, and, yes, changed. But I want you to know, Anne—” His eyes search mine, and I’m lost in them. “I love you. So much.”
I stare at him, really seeing him for the first time in a long time.
He’s right. We have been caught up in this whirlwind of life, barely holding on to one another. We’ve comforted each other, admonished each other, given each other advice… helped each other. But have we really connected? Really seen each other’s hearts? We’ve just taken for granted that we love each other, but what have we done to strengthen that love? To feed it, nurture it, help it grow stronger? Nothing.
“Oh my gosh, Prescott. I see exactly what you’re saying.”
I see his eyes brighten a bit, and for the longest time we just sit there, looking at one another. Finally, he talks again.
“I feel like a different person than when we met. I mean, I’m still me,” he says, “but I’m a new version of me, if that makes sense?”
I nod.
“I feel as though I’ve lived a lifetime of trials in this past year, and in some ways, I feel a lifetime older.” He gives a quiet, humorless laugh. “Everything is different. My career, my relationships, my body.”
I reach up to grab his hand that’s now resting on my shoulder.
He continues. “Everything is new, different. But the one thing that hasn’t changed… is you.” He shakes his head, “No. No, that’s not true. You have changed. You’ve gotten better, Anne.”
I feel tears coming.
“When I first got home, I avoided you—actually, I pushed you away. I’m so sorry for that. In my anger, I thought you’d be better without me. But you just kept pushing.”
I laugh and cover my face.
“No. No, Anne, look at me.” He lightly pulls my hands away from my face. “I’m so glad you pushed. Besides God, you’re the one thing I needed to stay constant in my life. I needed you and you knew that.”
I shake my head. “No, it was selfish reasons. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“Because you love me,” he says.
I nod, tears now filling my eyes. “Because I love you.” I agree.
“Anne,” Prescott whispers. “Thank you for being my constant. Thank you for helping me find my way back. Thank you for praying for me. I love you.”
“I love—” I began, but I’m silenced as his lips find mine in the sweetest kiss we’ve ever shared.
* * *
Prescott stays in the car as I walk into the agency to pick up Posey. We had the best evening. For the first time in a long time, we sat, talked, and focused on us. Not the military, not Posey, not Prescott’s injury and recovery. Just us. I felt like we were getting to know each other all over again. Falling in love all over again. And by the time I was ready to leave to get Posey, I was smiling so big my cheeks were getting sore. But I didn’t mind. I felt so… happy.
