Learning to Let Go

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

She was precious. Sweet. Loving. Perfect. He couldn’t help it. He kissed her.

The touch of their lips was brief, gentle, and her eyes opened even wider. It thrilled him to watch that pretty pink flush spread across her cheeks. He loved her. Found her irresistible. She didn’t pull back or move her hand but stood and studied him. A smile lit up her face.

No words would come, so he kissed her again, squeezing her hand as he did. To his joy, her fingers tightened in return, while her other hand moved up to rest lightly on his upper arm. He could have stood and kissed her all night, but when he squeezed her hand even tighter, she stepped back and exhaled.

“Wow. That was—nice. Thank you. It’s great to see you.”

“I can’t tell you how indebted I am for your help, Emma.” He still held her hand and pressed it to his lips. He needed Emma. “The children adore you, and it’s wonderful to come home when you’re there. I wish you were always there for us.” His next sentence tumbled out without much forethought. “Marry me, please.”

She looked stunned. Her eyes searched his face, but she didn’t answer and seemed to be waiting for him to say something else. Marisa had laughed and thrown her arms around his neck in excitement. Why was Emma hesitating? Didn’t she love him?

“I’ll never hurt you, I promise. You can finish school and be a teacher or anything else. I’ll take care of everything and make sure you’re happy. We need you, Marisa.”

Emma’s face paled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m not Marisa.”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to

Let Go

by

Elizabeth Pina

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Learning to Let Go

COPYRIGHT © 2009 by Elizabeth Pina

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given away to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading an eBook edition, and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the publisher and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contact Information:

titleadmin@whiterosepublishing.com

Cover Art by Tamra Westberry

White Rose Publishing,

a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC

www.whiterosepublishing.com

PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410

Publishing History

First White Rose Edition, 2009

Published in the United States of America

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Dedication

To my family for their support, my friends for their encouragement, and everyone else that has coached and guided me to success.Praise for Learning to Let Go

Learning to Let Go is the winner of the 2008 Southern Heat contest and the 2008 Gotcha! Contest

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

1

Of all the places to get a flat tire.

Dr. Keith Sullivan surveyed the graffiti-adorned buildings and regretted his decision to cut through a shabby neighborhood. He should have put up with the construction on the main highway. He punched the car’s SOS button and fought irritation. After ten hours in surgery, all he wanted to do was get home and relax.

Roadside Assistance. Polite as always. Not as helpful as usual. “I’m sorry, sir. It will be forty-five minutes to an hour before anyone can get to you.”

Keith pulled the key out of the ignition and his cell from its cradle. “Never mind. I’ll take care of it myself. Thanks for trying.”

“Please call us back if you change your mind, sir. Have a good evening.”

Keith got out of his BMW. The skies were dark, but at least he’d made it to a lamppost. The cool, damp early November air had him reaching back into the car for a jacket. He stretched and stood for a moment, glancing around him.

The street was quiet on a Sunday evening. A police neighborhood storefront on the other side caught his attention. The miniature substation represented the Houston mayor’s noble attempt to bring law and order to the outskirts of the city. For a moment he considered asking them for help.

They had better things to do. He opened the trunk, took out the tools and spare, and loosened the lug nuts before jacking up the car. The worthless tire removed, he picked up the replacement.

Music floated through the evening air. Not loud and jarring to disturb the solitude, but a joyful rendition of “Shout to the Lord.” A cold hand clutched his heart as he listened to his wife’s favorite song, and he couldn’t help but look around to see where it came from.

A small church stood behind him. Light shone through the cracked stained glass windows, piercing the gloomy shadows. In spite of himself, he relaxed and hummed along. Marisa would’ve loved it. She always enjoyed singing during Sunday morning services. When he could, he went to make her happy and see her smile. But he hadn’t been to church in over two years.

Not since her funeral.

He glanced at his watch and grimaced. He put down the wrench then pulled out his cell and pressed the number four key to speed-dial his home phone. “Mrs. Schneider. I have a flat tire and will be a little late.” He propped the phone between his ear and shoulder to allow both hands to replace the lug nuts. “Tell the children I’ll be home in thirty minutes.” He slid the phone back in his pocket.

Peter. Rebekah. Too young to understand. Keith had promised Marisa he’d take care of them and keep them happy. It wasn’t working. No matter what he gave them, they were still sad. Especially Peter. Keith’s son lived in an invisible cocoon, impossible to penetrate with anything except the lure of video games. There had to be another way to get through to him.

The spare in place, he stood and used a rag to wipe the worst of the oil off his hands. The melody ended and the bleak misery of the evening settled around him. The stained glass windows again caught his eye. Their glow spread light and hope through the darkness. Things that could give his family a new beginning.

All he needed was a way to make it happen.

He tossed everything into the trunk and slammed it shut. He’d get someone in the hospital garage to fix the tire tomorrow.

If only he could find someone to fix his life.

ef

“Good night, Daddy.” Rebekah obediently kissed his cheek and took Mrs. Schneider’s hand to go upstairs. Her black hair curled around her small shoulders and cascaded over pink pajamas. When she smiled, she looked like her mother, and Keith found it hard to refuse her anything.

“Night, Dad,” Peter murmured as he followed his sister and their nanny. He shuffled his way up the stairs, eyes downcast. Marisa said he’d grow up to be like his dad, his dark hair straight and his body tall and lean. Only his rich chocolate eyes resembled her.

Keith couldn’t remember the last time Peter displayed any affection to anyone. He’d only been six when Marisa became ill, and Peter hadn’t understood why his father couldn’t cure her. Life was so simple through the eyes of a child and death so unfathomable. He fought the urge to chase his son, pick him up, and swing him in a circle until Peter collapsed in a giggling heap.

The way he used to when Marisa was with them.

Everyone said he would get over losing his mother. In time. How long would it take?

Keith stared at the top of the stairs for a moment and then went back into his study. His cell vibrated, alerting him to a message. They’d postponed his morning surgery. Again. His fist clenched as he thought of the tiny baby, attached to multiple tubes and wires and in desperate need of a shunt to drain fluid from her head. Every time he scheduled her surgery, she’d run a fever. Or break out in a rash. Or something. Her parents and others prayed nonstop outside the neonatal intensive care unit. To no avail.

God wasn’t listening.

He didn’t miss his wallet until he got ready for bed and noticed it wasn’t in his back pocket. He went into the garage to look in his car. Not there either. After going through the evening’s events, he realized he must have dropped it when changing the tire. In an unusual display of frustration, he slammed the door behind him as he strode back into the house.

Mrs. Schneider called from the kitchen. “Is everything okay, Dr. Sullivan?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes, everything is fine. Good night, Mrs. Schneider.” He wandered into his study and sat at his desk, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand.

That wallet was Marisa’s last gift and filled with photographs of her and the children. Those were more important than the amount of money it contained, the two credit cards, or even his driver’s license.

Remembering the small police station, he picked up his phone to make a call. A couple of transfers later, he spoke to the officer on duty.

“Officer Michalski. How can I help you?”

“This is Dr. Keith Sullivan. I need to report a missing wallet.”

“Missing? Was it lost or stolen?”

“I changed my tire earlier this evening, almost right across the street from you. I think it fell out of my pocket.”

“I’ll have someone take a look and file a report, but I have to tell you the chances of it being returned are about nil. Describe the wallet and its contents for me, please.”

“Dark brown leather tri-fold with the initials KTS on the outside. It had several family photographs, my driver’s license, American Express card, a bank card, and some cash. Some business cards as well.”

“How much cash?”

A colleague had just paid Keith for a couple of golf clubs. “I don’t know exactly. Maybe four hundred dollars.” He rubbed his hand across his face and tried to keep his voice even. “But the money isn’t important. I’d be happy to get back the wallet and the photographs. Everything else can be easily replaced.”

“Have you canceled the cards?”

“No. Not yet.”

“I need a contact phone number so we can call you if anything is turned in. I recommend you cancel the cards right away.”

“I’ll do that, thank you, Officer.” Keith gave his cell phone number and hung up before checking his computer for the information to call American Express.

It was almost midnight when his phone rang. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, he swung his legs out of bed and answered automatically. “Sullivan.”

“Keith. It’s Vince.”

Adrenaline made him fully alert. His colleague calling at this time of night was bad news.

Keith snapped on the light. “What happened?”

A long and frustrated sigh preceded Vince Chapra’s answer. “She died. The Patterson baby. Twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh no,” Keith whispered.

“She started having seizures and her heart stopped. The team brought her back a couple of times, but then her parents said to let her go. They unhooked her, and her mom held her until it was over.”

Keith sat on the edge of his bed and dug a thumb into his throbbing temple. He’d been doing this for too long and knew better than to get involved. But he’d found this little girl special, despite her handicaps.

Vince sighed again. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

No.

“I’d have waited until the morning but thought you’d want to know right away. Can you handle Mrs. Patterson? She’s in the room next door and asked to talk to you.”

Like he could refuse. “Sure.” Keith steeled himself for an emotional outburst.

It didn’t come. Only a loud sniff. “Dr. Sullivan?”

“Hello, Rosie. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Anna is with Jesus now. No surgery required in heaven. But I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done.”

All he’d ever done was reschedule her surgery. God had never allowed the baby to be well enough for Keith to save her life. All he could manage was another, “I’m so sorry.”

It sounded like Rosie Patterson was blowing her nose. “My baby is happy and out of pain. Don’t be sorry for her. Or us. You take care of yourself, and God bless you.”

Vince came back on the phone. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.”

Keith threw the phone on the bed beside him and stared at the wall. No sleep now. Without knowing why, he tiptoed up to Rebekah’s room and watched her for several minutes. Marisa had hung a small angel from the headboard of each child’s bed. A sign of God’s protection. A wave of bitterness swept through Keith. God hadn’t protected Anna Patterson. Did He watch over Rebekah?

Keith doubted it.

ef

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Keith kissed the top of his daughter’s head. She grinned, displaying a mouthful of milky Cheerios. He turned to his plump and gray-haired housekeeper. “Good morning, Mrs. Schneider.”

“Good morning, Dr. Sullivan. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“I’ll help myself, thanks. Good morning, Peter.” Keith pulled a yogurt out of the refrigerator and a muffin from the box on the table.

Peter grunted in response, his eyes not leaving his plate. Shoulders hunched over the table, he attacked his waffles. Peter rarely spoke, at breakfast or anywhere else.

Mrs. Schneider tapped on the table. “Hurry up now, Rebekah. We must get Peter to school.”

Rebekah picked up her bowl to drink the last mouthful of milk, and her prim and proper caregiver pursed her lips in vexation.

Keith smiled at his daughter. Marisa had always let Peter do that, and Keith couldn’t stand to correct Rebekah, even if it did drive Mrs. Schneider crazy.

Mornings with Marisa. The radio would play Christian music, and she would sing with Peter. Rebekah would join in and bounce in her high chair, scattering Cheerios everywhere.

Chaos, love, and laughter.

Now, only silence and efficiency.

“I have time to take Peter,” Keith said to a surprised Mrs. Schneider. “Get your jacket, son, and tell me when you’re ready.” Peter didn’t even look at him. How could he break through that invisible wall?

Keith walked into his living room to stare at the portrait hanging over the fireplace. What had he let happen to Peter, to his family?

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. The loving face of his beautiful raven-haired wife smiled back at him. She would’ve known what to do for their child.

Peter stared out of the window during the short ride to school. Keith tried in vain to think of something an eight-year-old would like to talk about. He had no idea what that might be. “What’s your favorite subject in school these days?”

His son shrugged and stared at his hands, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. “Nothing, really.”

“What about math or history? Your grades are good in both.”

“They’re okay, I guess.”

Keith tried again. “How about we pick up one of your friends and go play miniature golf or something this weekend? Why don’t you find out if Anjay can come?”

An angry face turned to glare at him. “Anjay moved to Dallas. I told you months ago.”

Keith mentally kicked himself. “I’m sorry, Peter, I forgot. What about one of your other friends?”

Peter clenched his fists, his face red. “I don’t have any other friends. And I don’t care. I don’t want to play stupid golf. Leave me alone.”

They pulled into the drop-off line at the school, and Keith let out a deep breath. “I’m going to get us an appointment with Mrs. Perez.”

“I don’t want to see a stupid counselor.” Peter reached to open the car door.

“Why not? I thought you liked her.”

Peter shook his head. “She wants me to talk about Mom. I don’t want to talk about her.”

An agitated teacher rapped on the window. “Hurry up. You’re holding up the line.”

Peter made a speedy exit from the vehicle.

“Have a good day, son.”

The slam of the car door drowned out any answer. Keith stared after him as he marched, head up and ready to battle the world, into the small, private elementary school. The teacher tapped the window again, and Keith got out of her way.

He was almost at the hospital when his phone rang. He hit the car’s hands-free button to answer.

“Dr. Sullivan, this is Officer Recine, HPD. I’m at the Acton Heights neighborhood station and happy to report your wallet has been turned in.”

Keith hit the brakes and turned into a nearby parking lot. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir, it has your ID. Stop by and pick it up when you get a chance.”

Keith couldn’t help a smile. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

He made a left turn and drove as quickly as traffic and speed limit allowed. After parking across the street, he almost ran into the station.

Officer Recine handed him the wallet and a release form. Keith stared at the unmarked surface before opening it in disbelief. It looked as if all of the money was there, plus the photographs and everything else. He turned to the smiling peace officer. “Who found this? I’d like to give them a reward.”

A shout to the room behind them soon received an answer.

“Danny Morelli.”

Keith signed the form. “Do you have an address for Mr. Morelli?”

Recine chuckled. “Danny’s ten. He’ll be at school now, but most afternoons you can find him at the small house beside the church at the end of the block. Go there about four and ask for Emma Chandler. She’ll know where he is. In all probability, you can thank her for his honesty.”

Keith thanked the officer and left, counting the notes out of curiosity. The more than four hundred dollars was still there. What sort of boy would live in such a neighborhood but not take any of the cash? Who was this Emma to compel him to do so?

ef

Emma put the last tray of oatmeal cookies in the oven and set the timer for twelve minutes. She surveyed the disaster around her with a sigh. Martha Stewart’s kitchen would never look like this. Bowls and spoons, gooey eggshells, dough-rimmed cookie cutters, and something sticky on the floor. Everything decorated with a thin layer of flour and sugar. She hoped cleanliness was not as close to godliness as her grandmother always told her it was. Otherwise, she’d be in trouble. She filled the sink with soap and hot water to start the not-so-fun portion of her baking routine.

Danny looked eagerly at the previous batch. “They smell good. Can I have one yet?”

“No, let them cool a bit more. Are you sure you don’t have any homework?”

Danny shook his head as a girl ran in and threw her backpack in the corner.

Fifteen-year-old Jordan brushed long black hair back from her face and pulled a band off her wrist to capture the wayward locks in a ponytail. “I do. Can you help me with my algebra?”

“Of course I can,” Emma said.

Several other children filed in, complaining about homework. Talking and giggling, they pulled books out of bags, sat at the large kitchen table, and, with one voice, clamored for cookies.

Emma threw her hands in the air in mock defeat. “Okay, I give up. You can each have two now and another one later. Everyone get some milk or juice to go with them. Jordan and Danny, help the younger ones for me, please. Someone pull a few pieces of paper towel off the roll, and”—she paused for dramatic effect—“what do we do first?”

The chorus hit her. “Wash our hands!”

She smiled at the delighted children, glad she could bring some sunshine into their day. She adored them all and welcomed each hug or tear. Eventually, she’d go back to school and finish the requirements for her teaching certificate. She’d been so close before God gave her a different path to follow. One day, she might figure out exactly where it led, but, for now, this impulsive after-school open house filled a void in her life. She couldn’t charge anything, not that she’d want to. Everything was unofficial, but nobody complained, and a greater reward was to see most of the kids in her Bible class every Sunday morning.

Emma wiped her hands. “Jordan, honey. Show me what you need help with. Danny, why don’t you see if Jimmy wants to practice his spelling? Let me get out the rest of the cookies.”

A short while later, the loud ringing of the front doorbell made her jump in surprise. Visitors always came to the back door, especially at this time of day. She hastily pushed the stray wisps of hair back from her face and went to see who it was. Danny followed at her heels, stuffing the last piece of a cookie in his mouth.

A strange man stood outside. Strange not only because he wore a dark suit on a Monday afternoon, but also because she’d never seen him before. He was tall and quite thin, with neat dark brown hair and tired gray eyes.

“Emma Chandler?” His voice was smooth and rich.

She nodded silently, wondering if she’d forgotten to pay a bill.

“My name is Keith Sullivan. I’m looking for Danny Morelli. The officer across the street said he’d be here.”

Danny stood beside Emma and clutched her hand. She felt him tremble and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, knowing he feared Child Protective Services would one day take him away for good.

Emma steeled herself. “Is there a problem?”

He smiled. “No. I wanted to give him a reward for returning my wallet.”

Danny slid in front of her. “Sir, it was me.”

ef

Keith stared at the dark-haired ragamuffin before him. A small child with a clean face and intelligent eyes, but his threadbare clothes and shoes were dirty. He held on to Emma’s hand as if it was a lifeline. Glancing behind them, Keith saw several other children watching them. The woman in front of him could not possibly be their mother. She was far too young. Stepmother? Surely not to all of them. Babysitter? That must be it.

Emma smiled at him. Spots of what looked like flour dotted her face and the large green apron that dwarfed her small frame. A few strands of light brown hair escaped her ponytail and fell across her youthful features, but the sparkle in her ocean-blue eyes held his attention.

She regarded him curiously, and he blinked and tried to smile. One of the professional, bedside smiles he usually kept in his pocket somewhere. But he couldn’t find one and focused his attention on Danny. He handed the boy a twenty-dollar bill.

The stunned child took the money and stared at it until Emma nudged him.

“Th-thank you, sir.” Danny turned to Emma. “What’ll I do with it? If I take it home, Dad’ll think I stole it. Should I put it in the collection box?”

The words and their matter-of-fact delivery startled Keith. Both he and Danny looked at the pensive Emma for advice.

She frowned and rubbed her chin with floury fingers. “Well, you do need some shoes. How about if we get you a pair of shoes, and then if there’s any left, we’ll get some ice cream for after Sunday school?”

Danny’s grin showed a mouthful of crooked teeth. “Good idea. Can I go and get another cookie?”

Emma nodded, and he ran back into the house.

Something caught in Keith’s throat. He’d thought to give money for candy or toys. Something fun. Not a necessity. An unbidden question rose to his lips. “Who are all these children?”

Emma’s smile lit up her face. “They live in the neighborhood. Most of them are from single-parent families. There’s no one for them to come home to after school, and their parents can’t afford day care. So they come here, to my father’s house. He’s the pastor of the church next door. They have a snack, do their homework, and then go home later if their parents don’t stop by and pick them up. It keeps them out of trouble.”

Single-parent? That described his family. But Mrs. Schneider was home with them. His children were never alone.

“Would you like to come in?”

Her smile was inviting. Although his plans were to deliver the small reward and leave with a clear conscience, his curiosity accepted.

He followed her into the house and back into the large kitchen, stunned to see more than a dozen children. While a couple appeared younger than Peter, at least three were teenage girls. The occupants of the kitchen overflowed into the living room, and happiness reverberated throughout as the children talked, laughed, and helped themselves to treats.

“Would you like some milk and cookies?”

A tempting aroma tickled his nose, but he felt awkward and shook his head. Emma grinned at him, and it was impossible not to smile in return. Especially when he realized that, just like the cookies, she smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.

Keith glanced around the room and noted the rest of the children’s attire was only slightly better than Danny’s. His wife would’ve taken everyone to a store and bought them each a decent outfit. And made them all cookies. Marisa would’ve fit right in with the cookies and the children. She’d have liked Emma too. They both looked good in flour.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed a messy kitchen and happy kids. What he wouldn’t give to have them back in his life. He longed for Marisa.

“I must go.” He abruptly turned toward the front door.

Emma followed him out. “Thank you so much,” she said. “An angel must have sent you, because Danny really needed new shoes. God bless you.”

Taking all of the cash from his wallet, Keith shoved it into her hands. “Get them all new shoes,” he muttered.

Emma gasped, and her excited smile overwhelmed him. Unable to stay there a second longer, he strode down the driveway to his car.

ef

Emma stared after him and then at the money in her hands. “Thank you, Jesus.”

She ran back into the kitchen. “Children, hurry and finish your homework. We’re going shopping.”

Two hours later, they skipped back in high spirits.

“Danny, does this remind you of anything we’ve studied in Sunday school? How about you, Jordan?” Emma said.

Jordan was too busy admiring her newly-clad feet to answer, but Emma could see Danny struggle to come up with something.

“Well, I found the man’s wallet, and he gave me a reward. But it turned out the reward is for everyone, and we still have some left.” He frowned in concentration. “Maybe it’s like the loaves and the fishes?”

“I know that one,” Jordan’s seven-year-old sister, Julia, chimed in. “Jesus fed five million with just two fishes and...” Her little face crinkled. “How many loaves of bread was there?”

“Were there,” Emma corrected. “There were five loaves.”

“Five thousand people, not five million,” Jordan added.

Danny held his head high. “He could’ve fed more if they’d showed up.”

Emma gave him a hug. He was so different from the angry child she’d caught stealing from her kitchen only a year ago. She hoped his behavior was truly a new beginning and not just a show to keep him out of foster care.

“They had a lot of food left over at the end, didn’t they?” Jordan asked. “Like we have money left over.”

“Yes. We’ll see if anyone else needs new shoes and then...” Emma smiled at Danny, who grinned and finished the sentence.

“Ice cream.”

ef

Emma hummed as she prepared supper that evening. Her father came out of his study, and she caught him unawares with an impulsive hug.

He’d spent most of the last day and night comforting one of his parishioners. Not an unusual occurrence. He’d been a pastor for as long as she could remember, always ready to drop everything when the phone rang. His passion had waned since his wife’s death, but he still went whenever anyone called.

Luke yawned. “You’re very happy, my dear?”

She kissed his cheek. “Oh, yes, we had a visitor. An angel in disguise, although I don’t think he knew it. Such a nice man. He made us all very happy this afternoon. I wonder where he lives. I can’t believe he gave us so much money. A really nice man.”

They ate, and Emma told her father about the wallet and their generous donor.

He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “That’s wonderful news. I’m so proud of Danny. I’ll have to think of a special sermon for Sunday to inspire others to act the same way. Tell me more about the really nice man that came today. How old was he?”

She couldn’t miss his teasing grin. “Don’t know, mid-thirties, I’d guess. He was in a suit, if you can believe that, and had a fancy car. Beamer, I think. He really was nice. I mean really. Very nice. Spoke well too.” Emma frowned at her father’s raised eyebrows. “And he wore a wedding ring, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Luke winked. “Pity. Maybe next time.”

She poked him in the ribs with her finger. “You’re trying to get rid of me again, aren’t you? That’s not going to happen. You’re stuck with me, right here with you.”

Emma cleared the table and started to wash dishes. Her father came over to help but lapsed into silence. She glanced at his sad face and sighed. He must be thinking about her mother. Once, he stood tall and proud, captivating his audience from the pulpit, his charisma impossible to avoid. His wife weakened before them and so did he. If Emma left, he’d sit in a corner and wait to die. Not on her watch.

“I’ve always been grateful to you for coming home to take care of your mother,” he said. “And you’ve insisted on looking after me for the last three years. You have a college degree but work in a shop. Do you ever think what you’re going to do with the rest of your life? I know if you try hard enough, you can get financing to finish your teaching certificate. You can’t hide here forever.”

Her father didn’t understand. She had no desire to go anywhere else. “Hide from what? My plans are to stay here and take care of you, help the children with their homework, teach Sunday school, and whatever else God needs me to do. And I don’t work at any old shop. In His Word is a wonderful Christian book and gift store.”

“But what about Emma? You’re only twenty-five and deserve a husband and family of your own.”

“Dad, seriously. I am happy and for sure not pining for a husband. You know how much I love being around the kids. Believe it or not, I’m pretty happy being around you too.”

Her father kissed the top of her head. “I know. But God did not intend for man, or woman, to be alone.”

“But if I left, you’d be alone. These days, it isn’t the end of the world if women don’t get married. Not that I’m over-the-hill and doomed to spinsterhood quite yet.”

“God gave me a happy life with your mother. Don’t fritter away your life looking after me. You need to give yourself another chance. Find a husband to love and take care of you.”

Emma scrubbed an imaginary spot on the plate in her hands. Another chance. Love and take care of. Yeah, right. Like she needed a reminder of what happened last time she’d planned that walk down the aisle. How could she convince her father she was in no hurry to go through that again?

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

2

Keith’s early arrival home amazed Mrs. Schneider. “Is everything okay?”

He could only nod his head as he strode past her to his study. His family, like his patients, depended on him to be strong and in control. Something about Emma and those happy children had pierced his armor, and he needed time to collect his thoughts.

He sat at his desk and picked up one of the many photographs of Marisa that adorned the room. This one showed her with Peter and Rebekah, sitting under the Christmas tree and opening gifts. Right after the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.

Their last Christmas. She’d given him the wallet.

He stared at her beautiful face. Why couldn’t they save her? She’d had the best hospital, the best doctors, and the best medicine available. Nothing had worked. Not even the continuous prayers of two thousand church members made any difference.

Painful memories of Marisa’s final weeks flooded back, and he put his elbows on his desk to bury his head in his hands. What could anyone have done differently? What did they miss?

What else should I have done?

At the sound of Rebekah in the hallway, he raised his head. Her sweet voice sang “Everybody Wants to be a Cat,” and he couldn’t resist a faint smile. He pushed back his chair and stood, making sure he carried the smile into the kitchen.

Mrs. Schneider offered supper, but Keith shook his head. He sat at the small corner table with a glass of water and watched his children. Marisa’s children. Her legacy.

Rebekah adored ravioli, and hers was soon gone except for traces of sauce dotted around her lips and on the front of her t-shirt. She smiled at him from behind the napkin Mrs. Schneider used to wipe her face.

Peter ignored him, eating in silence, eyes on his food. He ate mechanically, shoveling forkfuls in his mouth until his plate was empty. He put his plate in the sink and ran upstairs to play video games. Mrs. Schneider collected Rebekah for her bath, so Keith followed Peter and watched him shoot spaceships for several minutes. Peter acted as if his father wasn’t there, and Keith winced at the chasm between them. With Marisa around, they’d always found something interesting to discuss. Any bit of news, even the weather could once hold his son’s attention. He struggled to find conversation.

“If you found a wallet with a lot of money in it, what would you do?” Keith asked.

“I don’t know.” To Keith’s surprise, Peter paused the game and looked at him. “Maybe buy something?”

“You wouldn’t give it back?”

“If they were dumb enough to lose it then that’s their fault.”

Keith stiffened at Peter’s cynical comment. That wasn’t what Danny had done. It wasn’t what Marisa would have expected from her son.

Peter resumed playing. Keith wished he could break through the protective barrier the boy placed around himself, but he didn’t know where to start. What was the point of being a father if you couldn’t talk to your son? What was the point of being a doctor if you couldn’t save your wife?

He wandered downstairs to Marisa’s portrait. “I don’t know what to do for Peter,” he whispered. “I can’t get through, and I’ve let you down.”

As he stared, he remembered the light in her soft eyes. Even close to death, it still shone. Especially when she talked about her destination.

Marisa had known she had a ticket to heaven. Keith hadn’t wanted to tell her she’d be put in a box, buried in the ground, and that was it. He couldn’t say there was no heaven, when at the end it was all she looked forward to, the only thing that kept her smiling through the pain. If God was benevolent enough to provide a heaven, then He would have allowed Marisa to stay with her family and not suffer and fade before their eyes.

Rebekah appeared at the doorway in blue pajamas. All scrubbed, rosy-cheeked, and still slightly damp. At five, she was small, like her mother. She carried a book in her hands and looked at him hesitantly. “Mrs. Schneider is cleaning the bathroom.”

He wasn’t sure why she would tell him that. “Do you need something?”

She looked at the book, looked at him, and then shook her head. “No, I’ll wait.” She turned and skipped away.

Perhaps she wanted him to read to her. Mrs. Schneider usually sat in the kitchen and read each evening. Keith considered going after Rebekah to find out. His phone rang, and he always answered his phone unless he was with a patient. By the time he followed his daughter, it was too late. She sat at the kitchen table next to Mrs. Schneider, engrossed in the story. He swallowed hard and left them for the solitude of his study.

ef

Keith could not explain his actions that weekend. Since giving up golf, he always met colleagues for a late breakfast on those Sunday mornings he wasn’t working or on call. If the weather cooperated, Mrs. Schneider took the children to the park.

He began driving to the Golden Corral restaurant. Somewhere between Main and Travis, he turned left instead of right and found himself stopped in front of a church.

Not any church. Certainly not the large and wealthy church he’d once attended with Marisa. This was a small church with cracked stained glass windows. The sun reflected from those windows as if to draw attention to their quiet beauty. He thought of Emma.

An invisible force guided him inside to sit at the back, as if in hiding. Strangers greeted him and shook his hand in welcome. They smiled and laughed. Strands of delighted conversations drifted past his ears, accentuating his lonely silence.

Emma played the piano during the service and sang. Keith didn’t recognize the piece but sat back and listened. Her voice danced around in his head and soothed him.

The pastor, her father he assumed, spoke something of the virtue of honesty and that the highest rewards come from God. Keith’s thoughts were too scattered to focus on the words or the message behind them. If God was so powerful, so generous, why had he turned his back on Marisa? On Anna?

Why am I here?

The pews around him were dotted with familiar faces, and a couple of children waved at him in recognition. One girl pointed to her new shoes with a smile so broad he wanted to get up and run away in shame. Something so little made her so happy. This girl looked like Rebekah, but his daughter had never wanted for anything in her life. Except, perhaps...

An invisible band squeezed the air from his chest. The girl with the new shoes held a woman’s hand.

Rebekah had everything except the tangible love of her mother and, he had to admit, the infinite and available attention of her father. His children had lost their mother, and they’d lost a part of him too. Instead of giving more, he’d locked himself away. The pain in his chest grew unbearable. It was all his fault. Not knowing how to talk to Peter, not realizing what Rebekah needed. All Keith’s fault.

If there was a heaven and Marisa could see what he’d done to their family...she would be crushed. But what should he do? He didn’t have any test results to diagnose and cure. No map to follow. No microscopic camera to find the right path. Nothing to guide him. No amount of surgical skills could repair the rift in his family.

At the end of the service, Keith stayed rooted to his seat as those around him prepared to leave. In his hand, he held a pew Bible. When was the last time he’d touched a Bible? He flipped through the pages and stopped at the first book of Peter, remembering how Marisa chose the names of their children from her favorite scriptures.

Emma walked toward him, her radiant smile piercing his gloomy shadows. “Mr. Sullivan, how wonderful to see you.”

He couldn’t help but notice the blue in her dress matched her beautiful eyes.

Danny stood close behind her and pointed to his shiny black shoes. Then he surprised Keith with a quick hug of gratitude. “Thanks, Mr. Sullivan.”

“You’re very welcome,” Keith murmured in surprise, wishing his son were with him to meet Danny. Rebekah too. Then they could both meet Emma. He had the strangest impulse to invite her home to see his children. He caught himself staring at her, so he studied the Bible instead.

Emma called her father over to them. “Dad, come and meet Mr. Sullivan, our shoe angel.” She grinned at Keith.

Luke Chandler smiled as he shook Keith’s hand. “Thank you so much for your generosity, the children are thrilled and—”

An elderly woman in a large red hat interrupted them. “Pastor Luke, I need you to pray for my Jacob.” She whisked him away.

“Excuse me one moment.” Emma stepped into the aisle and called out to a group of departing children, “Don’t forget to come back at five to start rehearsing for our Christmas pageant.” She smiled at Keith. “We have it on the Sunday before Christmas. I know it’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but we need as much practice as we can get. Would you like to stay for lunch? There’s a potluck today and always tons of food left over.”

For some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want to leave her. He shook his head. “Thank you very much, but I need to get home to my children.”

Her smile grew bigger. “You have children? How wonderful. You should bring them next week, your wife too.”

Keith tried to keep the emotion from his face. He’d had a lot of practice, but today it was hard. “My wife died two years ago.”

Emma’s smile faded, and, for a moment, she looked confused. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her eyes filled with compassion.

Why should her sympathy affect him more than anyone else’s? “Thank you. Yes, I may bring the children next week.”

Emma stared at the Bible he held in his hands. He placed it on the pew beside him.

“Feel free to take it with you,” she said. “We have plenty.”

“I have plenty too. But it’s been a while since I opened one.”

ef

A little before five, Emma went through her notes while waiting for the children to arrive. They would start with the nativity story, followed by a couple of modern skits to keep everyone interested and allow them all to participate. Last year, there hadn’t been enough parts to go around for all of the eager volunteers. She’d ended up with six wise men and a dozen shepherds.

Danny burst through the door, first of course. His eager face tugged at her heart. His mother had been dead for four years, and his often-absent father barely functioned as a parent. Emma had given Danny an open invitation to the Chandler household, and he made good use of it. She sent him off to unlock the side door of the church and grinned when he wiped a speck of dust from his shoes. How proud he was of them.

Keith Sullivan once more crossed her mind, as he’d done frequently all afternoon. Two years and he still wore his wedding ring. Emma stared at her bare fingers. Once she’d worn a promise of everlasting love. Or so she thought. How wrong she’d been. She remembered the sadness that crossed Keith’s face when he mentioned his wife, the pain in his eyes. He must have loved her very much. The same deep love Emma’s father had for her mother. The commitment Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever find.

She again thanked God for Keith’s generosity, and then she prayed for his soul.

Conversation filled the small church as other families trickled in, but the arrival of Keith Sullivan and two children stunned her. They sat at the rear of the church, and she walked back to greet them, her pulse racing. Why should she be nervous? She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon. She didn’t know why, but she was sure God had a good reason to bring them together. The boy sulked, his head and shoulders turned away from his father. The beautiful little girl sat red-eyed and sniffling, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her jacket.

Keith waved his hand over the children’s heads. “This is Peter. He’s eight, and Rebekah, five. Children, this is Miss Emma.” He gave her a wry grin. “Coming here was not their idea.”

Emma sat beside them with her biggest smile. Two solemn faces stared back. She remembered they didn’t have a mother, and her heart went out to them.

“Hello, Peter. Hello, Rebekah. How nice of you to be here. We’re going to practice for our Christmas pageant.” How could she make them feel welcome? “We’d love for you to join in if you want to. Peter, if you have any suggestions that could help me, will you let me know? Sometimes I run out of ideas.”

Peter looked surprised at her request but nodded. His face brightened, and he almost smiled.

Emma fished a tissue from the pack in her pocket and handed it to Rebekah. Runny noses were very popular this time of year, and she’d learned to be prepared. “Why don’t you move a little closer?” They followed her to the front pew.

Emma made a list so she could assign parts and decide on solos for those children brave enough to sing by themselves. Chaos threatened as the chatter and laughter increased, so she lined them all up to sing a few Christmas songs. Not only traditional carols, but songs everyone would know without too much prompting. As they began “Jingle Bells,” she glanced at the Sullivan family. Rebekah’s face beamed as she sang along.

Emma walked to the edge of the altar and held out her hand. Rebekah wriggled off her surprised father’s lap, and Emma led her to sit with several other younger children. Peter looked torn between staying there and joining his sister. Emma instructed the children to sing the song again and went down to Peter.

“If you think it would be easier, you can sit at the edge of the altar. You could even sing with us and tell me your ideas later.”

He nodded happily at her suggestion, and it wasn’t long before he too was up and singing.

Hoping she hadn’t done anything wrong, Emma glanced at Keith. His gaze moved between Peter and Rebekah, but Emma couldn’t tell if he was happy until he grinned at her.

She couldn’t resist a sigh of relief. Thank you, Jesus!

At her first opportunity, Emma whispered to Danny, “Peter doesn’t have a mom either. Perhaps you could be his friend?”

“Oh, yes.” Danny nodded. “I’ll do that for you, Miss Emma.” He stood next to Peter and shared his tattered copy of “Away in a Manger,” a proud smile on his face.

After an hour, Emma clapped her hands and called the children around her.

“We’re done for today. You were great! We’re going to practice every Sunday for the next couple of weeks, so everyone please try to be here. After Thanksgiving, we’ll practice more often, and there’ll be practices after school too. Come as often as you can.”

She turned to the Sullivan family, unsure if she should assume they’d return. She hoped they would. “Mr. Sullivan, Rebekah has a beautiful voice. Could she sing for us? And Peter is so tall. I’d love him to be one of the three kings. Let me know if you can come back, and we can work on a costume.”

“Call me Keith, please,” he said. “If Rebekah wants to sing then we’ll be back. Peter, would you like to participate?” He smiled at his son.

Emma held her breath.

Peter looked away from his father and appeared to think about Emma’s offer. He shuffled his feet and studied the floor before he spoke, only to her. “I want to be a king.”

Emma contemplated the disconnected family in front of her. They rarely made eye contact with each other. Even now, when little Rebekah should have been in her father’s arms, or at least holding his hand, she stood quietly to the side, her eyes fixed on Emma instead.

She held her hand out to the little girl. Rebekah responded with her own small hand and a loving, heart-warming smile. Peter stood several feet away, but he would have scorned her attention. Trying to be brave. Trying to be all grown-up. Like Danny used to do before she’d broken through his tough exterior.

Where was he? Right behind her, of course, waiting. He would be the last to leave, and she knew he hoped for an invitation to dinner. He didn’t often get to eat at his own home. Her mother had always insisted new members and guests should be offered a meal, but how could she ask them all in to eat and still feed them? The freezer and refrigerator were empty, and she hated giving visitors bits and pieces of leftovers. Especially those as generous as Keith.

Please, God, I need Your help with this. Loaves and fishes would be fine. Even one of Mrs. Keller’s surprise casseroles.

“I planned to take the children to Chili’s for supper,” Keith said. “We would enjoy your company, if you’re free to come with us?”

Emma stared at him. The speed in which God answered prayers often surprised her. “Thank you, Mr. Sull...um, I mean, thank you, Keith, I would love to.”

She glanced at Danny and raised an eyebrow.

Keith must have understood. “Danny, do you think you can come too?”

They walked outside, and Keith pointed to the sign that listed the Sunday morning and Wednesday evening service times. “Last week, you had a service on Sunday evening. Was that a special occasion?”

“Not special but unusual. One of our water pipes burst and canceled our morning services. Dad told everyone to come back at six, and we ended up with quite a good turnout.” Emma couldn’t resist a smile as she added, “If we hadn’t had that service then Danny wouldn’t have found your wallet. Perhaps the pipe bursting was a good thing, although of course we didn’t think so at the time. Dad would say God works in strange and wondrous ways.”

Keith stared at her. “So would my wife.”

Emma smiled but turned away. He spoke as if his wife were still alive.

There was room for five in Keith’s car, and they soon sat around a table in the restaurant. Emma prayed the whole way that God would guide her tongue and that she would only speak wisely, but now they were in the restaurant and no words would come. Either she wasn’t listening to what He told her to say or God wanted her to be silent.

Peter asked Danny if he had an Xbox or Nintendo, and Danny shook his head.

“Want to play mine?” Peter said. Danny nodded, and Peter placed his hand on his father’s arm. “Dad, can Danny come and play video games with me one day?”

Keith looked as if he might choke, and Emma decided he was not used to Peter inviting other children to their home. Or perhaps inviting children like Danny. Then she realized it was the first time Peter had spoken directly to his father all evening.

“Of course. Get his phone number, and you can call him to make arrangements.”

Danny reddened. Emma knew he didn’t have a phone either. “Danny spends a lot of time with me,” she said. “Let me give you my number instead.” She wrote on a piece of napkin and slid it across the table. Keith studied it before he put it in his wallet.

Not sure if Keith was ever going to ask his daughter what she wanted to eat, Emma turned her attention to Rebekah, who chose from the pictures on the children’s menu.

Peter asked Danny if he liked Star Wars. That series was part of Emma’s modest movie collection, and Danny had watched each episode over and over again. Finally, they were able to find something in common. Keith and Emma shared a glance and sigh of relief as the boys began an animated discussion about Jedi Knights, Darth Vader, and stormtroopers.

Emma colored pictures with Rebekah, who had wriggled herself onto Emma’s lap. The silence was more peaceful than awkward, but she still wished she could think of something meaningful to say. The waitress appeared with their drinks, and they ordered food.

“What a beautiful little girl you have,” the waitress told Emma. “A beautiful family,” she added, glancing around the table.

Emma felt her cheeks grow hot. “Thank you,” she murmured, hoping Keith hadn’t heard. Eyes downward, she concentrated on coloring the balloon red, sure it matched the color of her face.

ef

Keith stared at the young woman across the table. Sweet, pretty, and couldn’t be too far into her twenties, but somehow she was single. He found that remarkable. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup, but her skin glowed and her eyes were stunning. He’d caught what the waitress said and noticed Emma’s response. The pink blush made her even prettier.

Emma crayoned with Rebekah as if they’d spent their whole lives together, and Keith felt like a stranger. His daughter smiled up at Emma, a mischievous grin on her face as they reached for the same color. Then they both giggled as if sharing a secret. He couldn’t remember either of his children sitting on Mrs. Schneider’s lap. His daughter was well loved, but it had never occurred to him that she might lack affection. Until now.

He’d been pleasantly surprised how quickly both children accepted Emma. They responded to her friendliness and warmth as if starved for attention. Were they? He glanced at his son, in cheerful chatter with Danny. When Keith was home, there was little conversation from anyone. Why did that suddenly bother him?

Emma glanced at him and looked concerned. He tried to smile but couldn’t and focused his attention on his son instead.

“My father is a doctor,” Peter said. Not with awe or pride, simply an offhand comment.

Emma’s expression changed to surprise. “What sort of doctor?”

“Neurosurgeon,” Keith muttered. Not what his wife had needed. A curious gaze held his, but he didn’t want to discuss his work and looked away. Emma turned back to Rebekah.

Keith could not remember the last time his little girl looked so happy. His heart skipped when Rebekah proudly showed him her picture, and he praised her colorful scribbles. Emma and Danny made the difference in the evening. Inviting them had been a very good idea, but how could he get all five together again?

The food arrived and the crayons were set aside. The table fell silent beyond the occasional giggle or comment by Danny or Peter. Rebekah slid back onto her own seat and built a small tower out of her fries before she ate them with her fingers. Mrs. Schneider would have had something to say about that. Keith considered correcting her until he saw the smile on Emma’s face as she watched his daughter. Marisa would have helped build the tower.

Keith remembered the pastor and spoke to Emma. “I should have invited your father.”

“He wouldn’t have come. He hardly ever goes anywhere unless one of his flock needs him.” She frowned as if that bothered her.

“Why don’t you order him something to go? My thanks for allowing us your company.”

Her eyes sparkled. “He would love some ribs. Thank you.”

All three children demanded ice cream for dessert, but Emma put her hand up in protest. “I’m too full. Thank you so much,” she told Keith. “It’s been a while since I ate something I didn’t have to cook and clean up after.”

Their eyes locked and, for a moment, everything else faded away. He caught his breath at her smile and then hid a grin at the pink flush that once more spread across her cheeks. She lowered her head and refolded her napkin several times, hiding her face.

All too soon, it was time to leave. The children were sleepy, and the ride back to the church was quiet. Emma’s father wandered around outside. He appeared to be doing nothing more than picking up odd pieces of trash, but Keith was sure he waited for his daughter’s safe return. Emma presented Luke with his food, and he thanked Keith profusely.

As they drove home, Rebekah whispered, “I want to see Miss Emma again.”

Peter sat and stared out of the window. “Yeah, and Danny.” He yawned.

A peaceful silence overtook them, and Keith drew a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Emma and Danny brought light into his children’s lives and made them happy. Their happiness brought Keith joy.

One small step to repairing their strained relationship.

He hoped he’d figure out what to do next.

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

3

“Good morning, Dr. Sullivan,” Jan Gordon greeted Keith as he walked into his office the next day. The fifty-five-year-old grandmother had been his head nurse since he joined Southern Memorial.

She stared at him, and her shocked expression made him think he’d forgotten to shave. Then Keith realized he’d been whistling, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Good morning, Jan. How was your weekend?”

“Fine, it was just fine,” she murmured, her eyes going over him as if she hadn’t seen him for a while. She pushed her spectacles up to the bridge of her nose. “How ’bout yours?”

Keith paused to reflect, and then he smiled at her once more. “Pleasant, very pleasant. Do you have the chart for our first patient?”

Her look of surprise turned into concern, and her eyebrows knitted together in a puzzled frown. She held out the chart but didn’t let go as he took it. “Keith,” she blurted, “are you feeling okay?”

It was his turn to be surprised. “Of course I am. Why do you ask?”

“I’m sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, well, happy.”

He stared at the paper in front of him. He’d been thinking about Emma. Emma and his children. Guilt stabbed his gut. Jan loved Marisa almost as much as he did.

Jan reached across the desk and placed a motherly hand on his arm. He forced himself to look up. “I wasn’t complaining,” she said. “You know I’d be the first one to want you smiling again.”

He couldn’t answer, so he returned his attention to the chart and flipped through the first few pages.

“Let me get you some orange juice.” Jan bustled off.

His eyes tried to focus on the words in front of them. He knew Peter was unhappy. But had Keith been so miserable that one cheerful whistle caused such attention?

A few minutes later, he set those thoughts aside and summoned a reassuring smile. The woman sitting in front of him fidgeted nervously as he read the MRI report for Cathy O’Donnell.

“The other doctor said aneurysm, but it could be just migraines. Right?” she said. “That’s all. And I’m forty-three so, of course, my eyesight is changing. A lot of fuss over nothing, if you ask me.”

Keith put down the file. “Are your headaches increasing in frequency or intensity?”

She shrugged and stared at her fingers. “Maybe. I guess.” She picked invisible lint off her skirt. “Dr. Corin said I might need surgery.” She snapped her head up to stare at him. “Am I going to die?”

“No, but we need to confirm what’s wrong and treat it properly.” He made sure the smile was still on his face. “I’m going to schedule you for a CT scan.” He plucked a brochure from the selection on his desk and showed it to her. “This will tell you all about it, but call me if you have any questions, before or afterwards. If I’m not here, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“I don’t want holes in my skull,” she whispered, wiping a finger across her cheekbone before she rummaged in her purse for a handkerchief.

“You wouldn’t have them. It would be a simple and routine procedure without major surgery. We’d insert a catheter in your neck and slide it to the aneurysm. Then we’ll fill the aneurysm with a tiny coil of wire. A blood clot will form around the wire and reduce the risk of any bleeding or bursting.”

“It sounds scary. Do you do that very often?”

“I’ve done that procedure hundreds of times. Many people have aneurysms, and most don’t know it until it leaks or bursts. That can be dangerous, so we need to take care of it before anything happens. The coil does the trick without fail.”

She clasped her hands together and nodded. “I thought I was just being a baby. The headaches are so bad they make me cry and nothing helps. My husband made me see the doctor because he couldn’t stand to see me in so much pain.” She sniffed and blew her nose.

Keith stood and squeezed her shoulder with his fingertips. “Smart man. We’ll take care of you and get rid of your headaches. Let’s find my nurse and get your appointment scheduled.”

Sitting in the inevitable traffic congestion that evening, he thought about Mr. O’Donnell. He might have saved his wife’s life.

Maybe if Marisa would have complained more. No, that wouldn’t have helped. Her asthma frequently robbed her of energy. Her medication often took away her appetite. Early symptoms were easily dismissed by her busy husband. By the time Keith found her, crying from pain in the middle of the night, it was too late.

It wasn’t too late for Cathy, and she wouldn’t need any prayers. Keith could help her all by himself.

ef

That evening brought a first. Keith sat up in the game room with his children and watched a movie.

He’d asked Mrs. Schneider to make sure Rebekah got an early bath, and then he called the children to him. “We’re going to watch a movie upstairs this evening, what do you want to see?”

“A movie!” Rebekah jumped and clapped her hands. “Cinderella!”

Peter rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t want to.”

Keith ignored his protest. “We are going to watch a movie. Pick out a few that both you and Rebekah would like, and we’ll vote. Meanwhile, I’ll make popcorn and get drinks.”

Rebekah tugged on his arm. “The Aristro...The Aristocats.”

“Go with Peter and pick four for us to choose from. I’ll be up in a minute.”

The quick scamper of Rebekah and the slow thuds of Peter soon echoed from the stairs.

A vibration in his pocket alerted him to a message. Pulling out the cell phone, he stared at it. Not an emergency and he wasn’t on call. He could go to the movies for a couple of hours.

He put the phone in his study and closed the door.

Mrs. Schneider tried to put the popcorn in the microwave, but he assured her he could handle it. She looked at him as if he were crazy then disappeared upstairs and into her bedroom. He hoped the popcorn button knew what it was doing.

The votes were cast, and Peter seemed to enjoy Disney’s Hercules as much as Rebekah. The room and chairs were covered in bits of popcorn, but Keith didn’t care. He’d pick up the worst before Mrs. Schneider saw it and grumbled about the mess they’d made.

His family had once spent many happy hours in this room with Winnie the Pooh as their usual evening entertainment. He glanced at his son and wondered if he remembered his attachment to a particular stuffed toy. One day, Eeyore had disappeared. Keith had driven thirty miles to get an identical one before Peter woke up from his nap. They’d all laughed when they discovered Mrs. Schneider had put the first donkey in the washing machine.

The movie ended, and Rebekah sang “Zero to Hero,” butter smears on her chin and little bits of popcorn stuck all over the front of her pajamas.

Peter squeezed his arm. “Dad, when can Danny come over?”

Keith glanced at his watch. Eight-thirty. “Let’s find out. Run down to the study and get my cell phone.”

As footsteps thundered on the stairs, Keith pulled Emma’s phone number from his wallet and stared at it. He waved the piece of paper as a breathless Peter scrambled back into the game room. “Do you want to call, or shall I?”

“Will you call for me, please, Dad?”

Keith smiled in pleasant surprise at his son’s eagerness. Ignoring the three missed calls, he entered the number into his phone and saved it under Emma. As he pressed the talk button, he hoped she would answer and not disappoint the excited face in front of him.

“Hello, this is Emma.”

The sound of her voice froze the words in the back of his throat, and he couldn’t reply.

Peter grabbed the phone from him. “Miss Emma? It’s Peter, Peter Sullivan. When can Danny come over? Is he there? Can I talk to him?”

Keith recovered and took the phone back from his son. “Hi, Emma, this is Keith. Peter is very eager for Danny to visit.”

She laughed. “Yes, I could tell. Danny too. He talked about it all afternoon.”

“We’re hoping you can come with him, of course. Let us know what evening would fit in with your schedule.”

She seemed to hesitate. “Yes, I can come. Tomorrow or Thursday would be best.”

“Can Peter and I swing by and pick you up around six tomorrow? Rebekah has ballet but will be home by the time we get back.”

“The after-school children will have gone by then so that would be perfect. Danny’s not here right now, but I know he’ll be thrilled. Thank you so much for the invitation.”

“Tomorrow. We’ll see you then. Good night.” He ended the call.

“Thanks, Dad.” A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Keith’s neck, and he grinned in pleasure at the enthusiasm of Peter’s hug. Then he scrolled through the missed calls.

ef

Emma stared out of the window as the clock chimed six. The gleaming black car pulled into the driveway. How did he keep it so clean with all the rain they’d had? Just as well he offered to get them. Her father’s car was as reliable as the weather.

Danny leapt from his chair in excitement. “They’re here!”

“We’re leaving, Dad,” Emma called to the back of the house. She took Danny’s hand and walked out, hoping the boy couldn’t feel her tremble. There was no reason to be anxious. She’d only agreed to come as an escort for Danny. The visit was because of her, and his safety was her responsibility. There was a good chance Danny would behave himself, but Emma hoped he wouldn’t feel too out of place in what was sure to be a nice house.

Peter hopped out of the passenger seat and held the door open for Emma to get in next to his father. He then jumped in the back with Danny, the two of them instantly engaged in high-spirited conversation.

“Thank you.” Emma sent a friendly smile to Keith and took a deep breath, wishing the butterflies in her stomach had stayed home. What was it about Keith Sullivan that made her so nervous?

When the car pulled in to a driveway, Emma tried not to gawk at the impressive sight in front of her. The three-story white stone house stood tall and wide. The large glass windows sparkled, and a small pond shimmered beside the driveway. Even at this time of year, the lawn was neat and still green, and a blanket of orange and yellow chrysanthemums outlined a large flowerbed.

She’d been in big houses before but couldn’t remember one as beautiful as this. There must be a dozen good scripture verses censuring material possessions. Pity she couldn’t think of one.

At least she’d found decent clothes to wear. The black pants and blue sweater might be several years old, but they were nicer than her normal attire of plain dresses or faded jeans. She loved her job, but the modest income didn’t allow for much extravagance. Not that she’d ever indulged in designer duds.

A plump and smiling woman in a smart turquoise dress and cardigan stood by the open front door. With short gray hair and black-framed glasses, she looked in her late fifties or early sixties. The smile froze as Emma got out of the car, and she wondered whom the woman expected. Keith introduced her as Mrs. Schneider.

As the boys ran upstairs, Rebekah ran down the hallway into the marble entry, shrieking in excitement. She stopped a couple of feet from Emma and stared shyly at her. Emma smiled and held out her hand.

The little girl clutched it and grinned. “Miss Emma, come see my room and read me a story.” Rebekah tried to pull her up the stairs.

“Can I get you a drink or something to eat?” Mrs. Schneider’s crossed arms and sour face belied her hospitable offer. She stared down her nose at Emma as if she knew exactly how old her clothes were.

Emma managed a cheerful smile. “No, but thank you.”

Mrs. Schneider raised an eyebrow. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Rebekah once more tugged Emma’s hand, and she looked at Keith. “Can I go with her?”

“Sure. If that’s okay with you.”

She ran upstairs with the giggling child and followed her into a large, fairytale bedroom with painted walls. One showed a picturesque garden with a white fence and gate, trees, flowers, and a distant castle. The opposite showed a hillside covered with dogs, cats, horses, and teddy bears. Yet another displayed boats, floating on a sparkling ocean behind a lighthouse and grassy beach. The fourth wall consisted of white drawers, doors, and bookshelves.

Rebekah selected a handful of books from the shelves and then pulled Emma to a wooden rocking chair in the corner to read Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Emma sat and Rebekah climbed into her lap, head against Emma’s shoulder.

“Once upon a time...” Emma began to read.

Rebekah chimed in as the pages were turned, pointing at the pictures. “This chair’s too big, and this one’s too small.”

Emma sensed eyes on her and looked up to see Keith in the doorway. He stood with his head leaning against the doorframe, watching them. He didn’t look happy, and she wondered what she’d done wrong. As their eyes met, he left.

“Just right,” Rebekah said, forcing Emma back to the story.

They were on their sixth or seventh book when Peter and Danny appeared. Emma’s throat was dry from all the reading, and she wished she’d requested a glass of water.

Danny took her hand. “Come and see the huge TV they have.”

Emma looked at Rebekah, who nodded and slid off her lap. Holding hands, they filed into the game room, and Emma stared in amazement. The television was over four feet wide and the room filled with things to keep kids busy. Rows of shelves overflowed with toys and games. In one corner stood foosball and air hockey tables, while in another sat a rocking horse, dollhouse, and racing car and train sets. Maps and charts covered the walls, and a large telescope stood in front of the window. Rebekah let go of Emma’s hand and ran to stare at the television.

Emma stood and wrapped her arms around herself. All this for one little boy who enjoyed video games and one little girl who loved books. Most of it looked new. Was Keith trying to buy his children’s love, or did he think toys could replace their mother? She shivered, glad Danny seemed unaffected.

Although a semi-circle of theatre-style chairs faced the television, Peter and Danny sat on the floor. She joined them, her back against one of the chairs. Rebekah curled up in her lap as the boys raced around an impossible track. Soon, Peter and Danny were on either side of her. Peter wiggled closer and turned his face toward her, grinning. On impulse, she put her arm around him and his grin grew wider, even though his car left the track and spun into a tree.

Keith’s voice came from the hallway. “Peter, where’s Miss Emma?” He walked into the game room and stared at the happy group.

Emma couldn’t read the expression on his face, but he wasn’t smiling. Was he angry because she sat on the floor with his children? Because she had her arm around his son?

“In here,” Rebekah said. She turned to wrap herself around Emma and bury her head in her neck. Emma caught a whiff of fruit punch and cheese sauce on Rebekah’s clothes and glanced at her watch. It was almost eight.

“Danny, we need to go. Tell Peter and Dr. Sullivan thank you and get your coat.”

Peter groaned. “Not yet.”

Danny voiced his own complaint. “Do we have to?”

Keith stepped toward them. “Must you leave so soon? I came up to see if you needed anything. I didn’t mean to abandon you. I’ve been waiting for test results on one of my patients and wanted to call her as soon as they were available. I’m trying to talk her into surgery, but she wants to wait.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about my work.”

“I don’t mind.” Emma enjoyed being with the three children and didn’t want to leave. Not yet. “We can stay a little longer, if we’re not imposing. And I could do with a drink of water.” She got up to follow him out of the game room, Rebekah still wrapped around her neck.

“I can bring it up.”

Emma shook her head, hoping he didn’t realize she wanted to see more of the house.

“Why don’t you let Rebekah walk?”

The small arms tightened their grip, and Emma smiled. “She’s not heavy.”

She followed Keith downstairs and into a large kitchen with an oven big enough to bake three dozen cookies at once. Emma told herself not to be envious, several times. The huge room was spotless, and the stainless steel appliances gleamed. Too clean to smell like a kitchen. No hint of vanilla or cinnamon in the air here, only bleach and disinfectant. Her afternoon crowd and a bit of baking would change that in a heartbeat.

Keith took a glass out of a cabinet, and she held out her hand. “I can get it.”

“You already have your hands full.” He filled the glass with ice cubes and water from the dispenser on the huge refrigerator.

“Thanks.” Emma leaned back against the kitchen counter. Rebekah nestled peacefully against her, held securely by Emma’s arm under her thighs. Emma sipped on the drink and focused on the cubes of ice in her glass. She knew Keith watched her, but she couldn’t make herself look up. Once more, he made her nervous, but she still didn’t know why.

She forced her eyes in his direction. “You have a beautiful house.”

Keith shrugged. “All Marisa’s work. I was finishing my residency when we moved in. Too busy and too tired to do much. Mrs. Schneider helped, but Marisa made all the decisions.”

Emma managed a small smile but couldn’t think of a response. Marisa must have been the perfect wife. She chided her spitefulness as Rebekah snuggled further into Emma’s neck. Marisa couldn’t hold her baby anymore.

Mrs. Schneider appeared and scowled when she saw them. “It’s time for Rebekah’s bath.” Her tone was sharp, and from the look Keith gave Mrs. Schneider, her attitude surprised him.

Rebekah glued herself to Emma. “I don’t want to.”

“I won’t leave until you’re done.” Emma kissed Rebekah on the cheek before she set her on the floor. The little girl tagged along behind Mrs. Schneider, head down, feet shuffling, wiping a tear from her face.

Keith frowned at the departing pair but smiled as he turned back to Emma. “Let’s go sit somewhere a little more comfortable while we wait.”

She followed him out of the kitchen, unable to resist trailing her fingers across the top of the granite countertop and comparing it to the worn Formica in her father’s kitchen. They passed two doors before he opened the third and walked through the doorway, holding it for her to follow.

A large portrait dominated the whole living room and Emma froze. Why did she feel like an intruder? A Bible lay on a nearby coffee table, the letters MJS etched on the cover. Nearby were several Christian novels, neatly stacked, and a church magazine heralding an impending convention. Of three years ago.

“My wife, Marisa.” Keith gestured toward the wall, and Emma was obliged to look. Marisa was radiant, gorgeous, her smile sincere. A golden dress emphasized ebony hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate.

The artist had done a good job and, for a moment, Emma thought Marisa smiled directly at her. She swallowed and hoped she could speak properly. “She’s beautiful. Rebekah looks a lot like her mother.”

Keith stared at the portrait and nodded his head, apparently lost in thought.

Emma glanced at the many photographs around the room. Children, Marisa, family. Smiling, happy faces. His family. His home. His wedding. His wife.

The seconds ticked by in awkward silence. Keith stood in front of an armchair as if expecting her to sit, but she couldn’t move from the doorway. Marisa might walk in and pick up her magazine, wondering what this strange woman was doing with her husband.

Emma shivered at the thought. “I should go up and see how Danny’s doing.” She darted back down the hallway and up the stairs.

ef

Keith stared after Emma in puzzlement. Her face had paled, and she’d practically run out of the room. What was wrong? He hesitated a few minutes before following her upstairs.

She sat on the floor between the boys. Peter tried to show her how to use the game controller and laughed at her inability to move her fingers fast enough. For a moment, he rested his head on Emma’s shoulder and smiled up at her. Keith caught his breath as memories of Marisa overwhelmed him. Would she forgive him for inviting Emma into their lives?

Emma glanced at him, and he blinked away his thoughts and feigned a smile. Rebekah rushed past him and plopped on Emma’s lap. With a laugh, Emma gave the controller back to Peter and hugged the little girl. “Now it really is time to go.”

Peter and Rebekah complained loudly, and Keith didn’t want them to leave either. His house had rung with noisy, wonderful laughter. Emma and Danny gave Peter and Rebekah hugs goodbye.

Rebekah tugged her hand. “When will you be back?”

“I hope you’ll come and visit me next time, perhaps at church on Sunday morning but at least at pageant rehearsal.”

Danny beat everyone to the car and opened the door to the back seat. Keith was strangely disappointed when Emma got in. Danny slid in next to her. Keith got in the car and started the engine. He glanced into the rearview mirror to see her staring at his reflection.

As their eyes met, she turned to Danny and whispered, “Don’t forget to say thank you.”

The short trip passed in silence until they were a few blocks from the church. Danny leaned forward and pointed. “Can you drop me off there?”

The car stopped in front of a dilapidated apartment complex. Danny thanked Keith and ran the few feet to his home, a bright streetlight illuminating his way. With a quick wave, he opened the door and disappeared inside.

Keith thought he heard Emma sigh. He glanced at her reflection, but her face stared out of the window beside her until he pulled up in front of the Chandler residence.

Opening the car door, Keith extended his hand to help Emma out of the vehicle. She smiled and briefly touched his fingers before stepping away. He followed her to the front door where she turned and politely held out her hand.

“Thank you so much. Danny had a wonderful time, and so did I.”

He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he took her hand and held it firmly. “No, we must thank you. We enjoyed our evening, and I hope you’ll come back again soon.”

She nodded and pulled her fingers away. “That would be nice. Good night.”

His hand felt empty. “Good night, Emma.”

She went inside and closed the door, and the night air grew colder as he returned to his car.

Two tired children were still up and waiting for him, Rebekah half-asleep. To his delight, Peter gave him another hug. It was good to have him in his arms again.

“Thanks for bringing them over, Dad.” He scampered up the stairs.

Rebekah walked slowly upstairs, Mrs. Schneider close behind with her mouth still pursed in disapproval.

When she returned to the kitchen, Keith asked if everything was okay.

“Yes, thank you.”

He wasn’t persuaded. “The children had fun this evening?”

She nodded and seemed to be trying to say something. He waited. Cora Schneider rarely withheld her opinion on anything she thought important. After so long in his employ, he’d learned to let her have her say and get it over with.

“After only knowing her for a few days, they are certainly fond of that young woman and talk about her constantly. But then”—Mrs. Schneider tossed her head and glowered at him—”she is, I suppose, quite pretty. Also very...young.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean, Dr. Sullivan, is that you might want to be careful in case she has a plan to make you fond of her as well. Girls like that can be very scheming. Who wouldn’t want to marry a rich doctor with a nice house and wonderful children? Yes, you should be careful.”

Keith stood, speechless, as Mrs. Schneider went up to her room. Not only because he didn’t know where she came up with such an idea, but also because he was quite sure that Emma would be the last person in the world to scheme anything.

He tapped his fingers on the countertop. A flash of gold caught his attention, and he twisted his wedding ring around his finger a few times, even pulling it up to his knuckle. In a swift movement, he pushed it back down and clenched his fist as he remembered the day Marisa had put it there. He had no intention of getting married again.

To Emma or anyone else.

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

4

“How was your evening?”

Emma couldn’t help a sigh as she heard her father’s voice. She’d hoped for some time alone to sort out her scattered thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she went into the small study to find him sitting at his desk, buried behind a stack of papers.

“Delightful. Danny enjoyed himself, and Rebekah loved it when I read to her.”

“A pity about his wife, she must have been very young when she died.”

Emma tried to keep the envy out of her voice. “Yes. From her portrait, she was very beautiful. He and the children must miss her a great deal.”

Her father nodded. “You’re very beautiful too, Emma.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean. “You have a somewhat biased opinion, Dad.” She tried to change the subject. “Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head but stared at her until she said good night and slipped out of the room.

Emma sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her pillow, trying without success to sort out her thoughts.

I’m sorry, God, I can’t think straight. I’ll double up on my prayers tomorrow night, promise. Bless everyone; You know my list. And forgive me for being jealous of a dead woman.

ef

George Bolton’s voice was even more cheery than normal. “Gather ’round, ladies, I have news.”

Emma stepped back from the shelves and walked over to where her boss stood with a huge smile on his face. Mrs. Perkins, the store’s only full-time employee, joined them.

George took a deep breath. “As you know, the store hasn’t been doing well lately.”

Emma was sure he’d decided to close everything down. Mrs. Perkins gasped and held on to Emma’s arm with a vise-like grip.

George continued. “We need to advertise and add variety to our stock. I don’t have the resources for that and, since my wife’s stroke, I no longer have the desire. I’ve made a decision.”

The fingers around Emma’s arm dug into her flesh. She winced but didn’t pull away.

“I’ve sold the store.”

The two women gasped in unison.

George held up his hand. “Don’t worry. A condition of sale was that you’d both be guaranteed employment for at least six months. I feel you’ll be able to stay as long as you wish.” He rubbed his hands together. “Mrs. Duncan is a wonderful woman. Her late husband owned an auto parts store. She has a lot of small business experience but wanted to try something different and has come up with great ideas already.”

The fingers relaxed a little, and Emma forced herself to speak. “I’m very happy for you, George. And I appreciate you thinking of us in your negotiations. When will everything be finalized?”

“Already done, eight o’clock this morning. Mrs. Duncan will be here at eleven to meet you. Emma, can I ask you to show her around?”

The next hour passed in silence interspersed with an occasional sniff from Mrs. Perkins. Emma couldn’t blame George. The store had been a burden for several months. The Christmas stock had been out since September but barely moved, and the store might have closed a long time ago if not for several area church groups. No wonder George was relieved. Emma didn’t want to lose her job, only two miles from home and in an up-and-coming area surrounded by new subdivisions. If only the business could be as fruitful as the area’s development. She spent a moment in quick prayer for their future.

At two minutes to eleven, the front door swung open and an attractive woman in a smart navy suit announced her arrival. “I’m home! George, where are you? Introduce me to everyone.”

Both George and Mrs. Perkins had disappeared, so Emma stepped forward. “Hi, you must be Mrs. Duncan. I’m Emma Chandler, very pleased to meet you.”

“Dear girl, you must call me Jayne. That’s with a ‘y’ for future reference. Mrs. Duncan makes me feel too old. Where’s George?”

“He should be right back,” Emma said, crossing her fingers. “Mrs. Perkins too.”

Jayne plopped her slim body in one of the old armchairs by the bookshelves and stretched out long, elegant legs. She took a nylon-clad foot out of a high-heeled pump and rubbed polished toenails across her other leg. “Excuse me, dear. These new shoes are killing me.”

Small lines around the corners of Jayne’s eyes and mouth told Emma she might be in her forties, although it was hard to tell exactly where. Otherwise, Jayne’s complexion and makeup were flawless. Mahogany hair had been gathered in a twist on the back of her head, and emerald eyes were adorned with more eyeliner and mascara than Emma had worn in her entire life. Jayne surveyed the small store with a smile, but her fidgeting fingers showed nervousness.

“Can I get you something to drink? We have coffee, bottled water, or I can run to the convenience store on the corner if you’d like something else.”

“I would adore some coffee, please. Black.”

“Be right back. Then I’ll show you where everything is.”

George finally appeared with Mrs. Perkins in tow. Emma wondered if he’d dragged her out of the storeroom. “Off to get coffee for Jayne,” she said as she passed them. As she found a clean mug, she heard stilted introductions.

The next two hours flew by. Jayne went through the store, shelf by shelf and bin by bin, asking questions, checking prices, and making notes. Emma couldn’t help but like her. She laughed and joked and didn’t seem concerned by the shop’s sad state of affairs.

“I have a lot of ideas,” Jayne told Emma. “You probably have a few yourself that I’d love to hear. I know it’s going to take some effort to get things shipshape again, but I’m game. I hope you are too. Now, why don’t you tell me a little about Emma?”

Emma told Jayne about her father and their church, the death of her mother, Danny, and the Christmas pageant. She didn’t know what to say about Keith and his kids, so she left them out.

“I’m sorry about your mother; you’re so young. Your father must be a wonderful man.”

Emma laughed. “He is, of course. But what makes you say that?”

A trace of sadness crossed Jayne’s face. “I believe you can judge parents by their kids.” Her smile returned. “And you are wonderful. Therefore your father must be wonderful.”

Emma’s face flushed in pleasure. “Thank you. Do you have any children?”

The sadness returned. “No. All alone now Jason, my husband, has gone. And I intend to throw everything I can into this store and make him proud.” She tilted her face toward the ceiling. “I know he’s up there, watching out for me. He was a good man.”

Jayne insisted on getting lunch for everyone and left to pick it up from a restaurant.

George barely waited until the door closed behind her. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s very nice and will do well,” Emma said.

George nodded. “Me too. Elsie?”

Mrs. Perkins sniffed. “She does seem to know what she is doing. Only time will tell.”

Emma smiled to herself. Mrs. Perkins wasn’t going to admit it openly, but it was impossible not to like Jayne.

ef

Keith.

The name displayed on her cell phone made her hesitate before answering. Perhaps it was Peter, calling for Danny. He’d said he would on Friday, but Danny had offered to walk Jordan and Julia home and wouldn’t be back for fifteen minutes.

Emma sat at the kitchen table before answering. “Hello.”

“Hi, Emma, how are you?” Keith’s polite greeting sounded forced.

She took a deep breath. “Very well, thank you, Keith. How are you?”

“Good, good.” He paused and sounded as if he were clearing his throat. “The weather tomorrow will be warm and dry, and I thought about surprising the children with a visit to the zoo. I hoped you and Danny could come with us.”

Her first impulse was to say no, but Danny would love to go to the zoo. She wondered if she could get an outing for him but wriggle out of going herself. But why didn’t she want to go?

“If you aren’t busy,” Keith added.

She wasn’t busy, not really. Nothing that couldn’t wait. She rarely worked on Saturdays. If she said she couldn’t go, she’d be lying, and she wasn’t sure why she didn’t agree to go with them. She adored his children and could stand a day in Keith’s company for their sake. At least there wouldn’t be too many reminders of his dead wife at the zoo. She hoped.

“Emma? Are you there?”

With a thousand thoughts rushing through her head, she hadn’t answered. “Yes, sorry. Trying to remember if I had any plans for tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I don’t. We’d love to come. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Wonderful, we’ll pick you up at nine. Goodbye.”

She took a deep breath, uncertain why she wanted to burst into tears. Her father appeared, and she tried to hide her face.

“Emma, are you okay? Who was that?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. That was Keith...Dr. Sullivan. He wants to take Danny and me to the zoo with his children tomorrow.”

“The zoo? But why do you look so upset?”

Emma shook her head and stared at her hands. She had absolutely no idea.

She sensed her father’s eyes on her but refused to look up. He sat on an adjacent chair and slid his arm around her shoulders.

“Emma,” he murmured. “You never really explained to me why you didn’t marry Adam. Or perhaps you did, but I didn’t understand. Why don’t you tell me again?”

Emma blinked at him in surprise. Why bring up her disastrous engagement now?

“I remember you told me it was because he didn’t want to wait to get married or move here while you took care of your mother. But I think there was more?”

Much more. She’d been so humiliated, so angry. Emma fingered the edge of the bright yellow tablecloth. Even now, the betrayal still hurt. She steadied her voice. “Adam had an affair with my college roommate while I was here with Mom. Claire ended up pregnant. He still wanted to marry me, if you can believe that. He said his parents adored me and would be upset if we split up. I gave him back his ring and told him to marry Claire instead.”

Beyond a sharp intake of breath, her father remained silent for several seconds. He squeezed her shoulder in comfort. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “That was a long time ago. I should be grateful. Obviously, he didn’t care about me as much as I thought. If I ever get married, I want to know that my husband loves me. Me, Emma, not someone else. I’d prefer not to get married at all than be unhappy or end up divorced.”

“Do you like Keith?”

Emma squirmed at her father’s question. “Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Dad, Keith is just looking for some companionship for his kids. Even if I did like him beyond that, which I don’t, it would be pointless. His wife may be dead, but in his heart and mind she’s still his wife and always will be. He hasn’t even taken off his wedding ring.”

“Neither have I,” her father noted, waving his left hand in front of her face.

She grabbed his fingers and kissed them. “I thought it was to keep rich widows away.”

He gave a rare bellow of laughter. “It’s doing a good job, then.”

“Seriously, Dad. Keith and I are friends, I think. But that’s all.”

Emma realized her words were more for herself than her father. Yes, Keith was attractive, kind, nice, and, yes, she did like him. A lot more than she should. But it would be ridiculous for her to think of him as anything beyond the father of Peter and Rebekah. And the husband of Marisa. He would always be the husband of Marisa.

But that didn’t mean she and Danny couldn’t be their friends. They needed friends. They needed Jesus in their lives. That must be her assignment. She stood and gave her father a smile that was almost real.

“I’m fine. We’ll have a good time tomorrow, don’t worry.”

He kissed her forehead. “I love you and will always worry. I’m glad your mother has asked an angel to keep an eye on you. Have fun at the zoo.”

ef

Emma couldn’t get over the change in Keith. He looked years younger than when she’d first seen him. Dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, he carried Rebekah up on his shoulders. Her hands mangled his normally neat hair, and Emma’s fingers tingled with an urge to smooth it into place. She caught her breath at the thought and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Touching him would be rude. Inappropriate.

Wonderful.

This was crazy. She hardly knew him. She shouldn’t have come.

They stood inside the zoo gates and looked at the picture map. Keith placed his finger next to a large arrow. “We are here. Where shall we go first?”

Rebekah shrieked and pointed to a picture not far from his finger. “Elephants!”

No one had any objections, so off they went. Emma tried to keep her distance from Keith, but he insisted on walking beside her or running around in circles while Rebekah screamed and giggled. It wasn’t long before Emma joined in the merriment. She’d never thought Keith could be such a clown.

They all laughed as they watched an elephant get a bath. In turn, it sprayed its trainer with water. Rebekah curled up in her father’s arms, and Emma savored their enjoyment.

Peter and Danny hooted and hollered as everyone made their way over to the big cats. The boys ran back and forth, urging the slower adults to hurry and see the tiger by the fence.

Keith frowned. “Should I make them stay with us?”

“They’re fine,” Emma assured him. “Let them have fun. How often do you come here?”

His face clouded. “This is the first time we’ve been since Marisa was sick.” He stared at her for a moment. “I’m sad to admit I rarely take my children anywhere. Mrs. Schneider takes care of their outings.”

Emma turned away so he wouldn’t see her disappointment, but it was too late.

“If it wasn’t for you and Danny then we wouldn’t be here,” he said. “Thank you.”

She didn’t want to look at him, so she studied the tiger, glad when Peter asked to see the lions.

“Ice cream!” Rebekah pointed to a group of children with the treat. “Can I have some?”

Keith turned them all in the direction of the shops. Peter and Danny ran into the nearest to make their selections.

“Shouldn’t they eat lunch first?” Emma said.

Keith shook his head. “They can have lunch later. Rebekah said ice cream.” He turned and winked at her. “But don’t tell Mrs. Schneider.”

Emma stared for a moment then laughed. “I’m so telling.”

“No, Miss Emma, don’t tell on Daddy,” Rebekah pleaded.

Keith and Emma exchanged a smile.

“Okay, Rebekah,” Emma said. “I won’t tell on your daddy. But don’t tell my daddy I had dessert before lunch either.”

Rebekah shook her little head in determination, and Keith reached up to tickle her. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. He smiled up at her then turned to grin at Emma. She loved it when he smiled, especially at her. She took a deep breath to put the brakes on her emotions.

We’re here for the children. That’s all. There can’t be anything else. Enjoy the day.

A small train ran around the outside of the zoo. Ice cream finished, they decided to climb aboard and take a trip to the wilds of the African jungle, or so the conductor proclaimed. Peter and Danny scrambled into the seat in front of them, and Rebekah sat on Keith’s lap. Emma sat beside them and listened contentedly as Rebekah pointed out all of the birds and animals she could see, asking her father to identify each of them. When he didn’t know one, they both turned to Emma.

She grinned. “Okapi.”

Keith raised his eyebrows. “Rebekah, Miss Emma is very smart.”

Emma poked him in the ribs with her elbow, and he laughed at her. She laughed in return, and a delighted Rebekah giggled. Peter and Danny turned to look at them as if they were crazy, and they laughed all the more.

When the train stopped, Keith stepped out, still holding Rebekah, and held out his hand to help Emma. She stood beside him for a moment, Peter and Danny in front of them.

A passing woman cooed at them. “What a beautiful family.”

Keith let go of her hand to hoist Rebekah back up to his shoulders, and Emma turned away in embarrassment. Peter and Danny hadn’t noticed, and they were soon in the reptile house.

The boys ran ahead, excited over every snake, lizard, and alligator. Rebekah slid from her father’s shoulders to his arms and stared without comment at each display, wrapping herself in the safety of his embrace when they strayed too close to the glass.

Emma hung back, hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans, grateful for the dim light. She knew her cheeks still burned from the woman’s kind comment. For a moment, she’d felt as if they were a family, all five of them.

What a stupid, fanciful idea. That could never be.

ef

The zoo grounds contained a small café with outdoor tables beside a duck pond. Having seen everything and done everything, they’d finally stopped for a meal. Keith watched his happy children feed the ducks, glad barricades kept them from the water. Peter protected his sister any time a duck waddled too close for her comfort, while Danny herded the offending webfoot away.

Emma had been very quiet since they stepped off the train, and he hoped she didn’t regret coming with them. Keith had forgotten how delightful female companionship could be, and Emma’s company was especially satisfying.

“Thank you so much,” Emma said. “Danny’s having the time of his life.”

“He’s a great kid. You’ve got no idea how wonderful it is to see Peter smiling again.”

“Peter’s a good influence on Danny. Some of the other kids he knows only want to get him into trouble. If he doesn’t behave, he’s back in a foster home. He’s trying really hard to avoid that.”

Keith nodded. “I think he’ll do whatever it takes to stay with you.”

“I hope so.”

Keith experienced a rare episode of speaking before thinking. “What’s your story, Emma?”

She leaned back from the table and stared at him. “My story?”

He held his breath, but she didn’t look upset at his question. “I’d expect someone like you to be a teacher. Or married with kids of your own.”

Her eyebrows met in surprise. “Someone like me? What does that mean?”

“Children love you. You’re kind, gentle, compassionate, and intelligent.” A slow pink flush spread over her face, but he couldn’t choke back the words. “And extremely pretty.”

Her face turned deep red, and she twisted away to stare at the ducks.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Words like that are hardly offensive. Only unexpected.”

She looked upset, and Keith wished he could take them back. “Sorry,” he muttered.

The color faded, and she sent him a wistful smile. “No need, and thanks for the compliments. I was almost both of those, once. Working on my teaching certificate and at least engaged to be married. Mom got sick, and I needed to be home with her. After she died...” She paused. “Well, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Dad and go back to school. Still can’t.”

“And your fiancé?”

Her smile stretched into a grin. “He decided not to wait for me. I’m going to get the kids.” She got up and strolled toward the ducks.

Keith stared after her in amazement. She didn’t seem to care, but it was beyond him why any man wouldn’t want to wait for someone like Emma. Rebekah lifted her arms, and Emma scooped her up. They turned and waved, their laughter floating toward him.

Keith tapped the bottom of his cup on the table. Emma was more than pretty. She was beautiful. He hadn’t thought anyone beautiful since he met Marisa. He twisted the ring around his finger and felt a familiar stab of guilt. Since he first saw his wife, he’d never looked at any other woman. Until now.

It was time to go home.

Keith dropped Danny off and parked in the Chandler driveway, sure Emma couldn’t wait to get away from him. It might only be six o’clock, but it was already dark. Ignoring the forlorn faces of his children, he opened the car door and took her hand to help her out. “Emma, thank you so much for coming with us and bringing Danny.”

Her polite smile didn’t fool him for a minute. “Thank you so much for the treat. We had a fantastic time.”

She tried to pull her hand away as he walked her the few feet to the front door, but he held on.

“I’m on call tomorrow and don’t know if I can get the children to practice. They’ll be disappointed, but we can make it next week.”

Emma’s face clouded. “What a shame. Could I possibly pick them up and take them home afterwards? If that would be okay with you and Mrs. Schneider.”

They stopped at the door. He stood in front of her and took her other hand. “The kids would like that, but I couldn’t expect you to go to so much trouble.”

She smiled. “No trouble. I would love to.”

His heart pounded, and his eyes scanned her face. Her eyes, her mouth. The urge to kiss her surprised him. Emma’s beautiful eyes grew wide as if she could read his mind, and she didn’t look happy at the prospect. Did he make her nervous? He allowed her hands to slide out of his, and she stepped back.

“I’ll pick them up at four, if that’s convenient. They’ll be home by seven.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell Mrs. Schneider to expect you.” He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to let her go. She seemed in a hurry to get away from him.

Emma opened the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Emma.” He heard Peter calling and hurried back to the car. There was a soft click as the door closed behind him.

“Dad, will you take us to practice tomorrow?” Peter said as Keith snapped on his seatbelt.

“I can’t, son. I’ll be at the hospital.”

Peter groaned in disappointment.

“Miss Emma is going to pick you up and take you to practice. Take care of your sister and make sure you both behave.”

The children squealed in delight, and Keith couldn’t help but smile at their excitement.

“I will, Dad,” Peter promised. “I can’t wait to see her again. She and Danny are fun.”

Keith couldn’t wait to see her again either. All he needed was a good excuse to do so.

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

5

Emma knew he wouldn’t be there, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from scanning the pews the next morning, just in case. She was disappointed.

She’d spent her life sitting and enjoying her father’s sermons, but today his words drifted into, around, and out of her head. Her thoughts were fruitless, she knew. There was no hope of a relationship with Keith, and she needed to get the very idea out of her mind.

If only she could.

Dear Lord, please guide me through the path You’ve laid. I believe You’ve placed us in each other’s lives so Danny and I may bring the Sullivan family together once more. Keep my thoughts pure and my mind free from bitterness. Marisa was a wonderful woman, and I’m sure she’s with You. I shouldn’t resent the happiness You gave her while she was on earth or envy her worldly and heavenly possessions. You know I do anyway, and I know You’ll help me deal with those feelings. In Jesus’ name, amen.

She didn’t feel any better, but sometimes things took time. For now, she would concentrate on removing certain thoughts of Keith from her mind. Beginning with the one that wanted him to kiss her. Especially that one. Would he ever want to kiss someone like her? She groaned in despair and hurriedly coughed when her father glanced in her direction.

Mom, I wish you were here. I need someone to talk to.

She stood with her father after the service, shaking hands and dispensing hugs as they said goodbye to the flock of attendees. An elegant woman in a black dress approached them, and Emma tried in vain to keep her mouth closed as she gaped at Jayne.

She hugged Emma. “There you are! George told me this was your church. Positively charming.” Jayne turned to Luke and held out her hand. “You must be this lovely girl’s father. I am so pleased to meet you. A wonderful sermon today. My dear husband would have loved it.”

Emma glanced at her father. He shook Jayne’s hand and smiled in return but seemed confused at the warmth of her greeting.

“Dad, this is Jayne Duncan, the new owner of In His Word.”

He smiled in understanding. “Emma told me all about you. I’m very pleased you could join us.”

Jayne glanced around at the dwindling crowd. “I’ve decided to treat myself to lunch at that new seafood restaurant by the highway. Would you two do me a huge favor and help me avoid eating alone? My treat, of course.” She smiled at Emma. “We can celebrate the future of our store.”

Luke hesitated. “Thank you, but I can’t. I need to take care of some correspondence.”

“Come on, Dad,” Emma said. “We need to be nice to my new boss.”

Jayne clasped his hand with both of hers. “Please, Luke. I can call you Luke, can’t I? Please come with us.”

Emma grinned, sensing victory. Her father nodded and the three of them walked around the church, ushering out the remaining occupants and locking the doors. After a quick word with Jayne, Emma rounded up Danny to join them.

ef

Where could they be? It was almost four, and Emma needed to go and pick up the Sullivan children. After a lively and enjoyable lunch, Luke had asked Jayne to order some textbooks for the church. She’d whisked him off to the store to make sure she ordered the right ones. The store was closed, and Emma could have placed the order herself the next day, but Jayne would not take no for an answer. As usual. That was over two hours ago.

At least they’d gone in Jayne’s vehicle. Emma called Danny away from the television, took the keys to her father’s old Chevrolet, and drove to Keith’s home.

“Not coveting, not coveting,” she whispered as she pulled into the driveway.

Danny swiveled to face her. “What?”

“Nothing. Stay here while I go get them.”

Remembering Mrs. Schneider’s manner, Emma steeled herself as she knocked on the front door. She wasn’t disappointed. Mrs. Schneider answered and looked at her as if Emma were the last person she wanted to see. What had she done for this woman to dislike her so much?

Peter rushed past them to join Danny, and Rebekah grabbed Emma’s hand. “We have to use my booster seat.”

Mrs. Schneider held it out to Emma. “Do you need me to secure it for you?”

Emma sighed. She had never put a seat in her father’s or any other car. “That would be very kind of you, thanks.”

Heat filled Emma’s face as Mrs. Schneider regarded the old car, her lips curled in disdain.

“Is this your car?”

“No, my father’s,” Emma said. Standing as tall as possible, she added, “It gets us around.”

“Amazing.”

At least the sedan was big enough for all three children to sit in the back. Emma said a prayer before she turned the key. Sometimes nothing happened. The engine started, and she sighed in relief. Thank you, Jesus. She glanced in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the driveway, but Mrs. Schneider had already disappeared.

Emma stared in surprise as they walked into the church. Jayne was perched on the edge of the altar, her dangling legs crossed at the ankles. Luke stood next to her. They were engrossed in conversation, but both turned to smile as Emma and her troop walked toward them. Rebekah clutched her hand while Peter walked ahead with Danny.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Jayne said. “I wanted to stay and watch the rehearsal.” She smiled at the Sullivan children. “This must be Peter and Rebekah. Your father told me all about them.” She cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. “He told me about their father too. Why haven’t you mentioned the good Dr. Sullivan to me before?”

Emma felt the all-too-familiar heat radiate from her cheeks. “I haven’t known him long,” she murmured. “And there’s not much to tell.”

“I see.” The look on Jayne’s face indicated she saw too much, but the arrival of more children saved Emma from further embarrassment. For the next hour, she avoided eye contact with Jayne or her father, who surprised her by also staying to watch. Fortunately, the children took to their assignments well.

“Delightful,” Jayne said as rehearsal concluded. “Simply delightful. A wonderful bunch of kids and very well behaved for you, Emma. What are we going to do now?”

Emma glanced at her watch. Almost six-thirty. “I need to take Rebekah and Peter home. They’re expected by seven.”

“Why don’t we go in my Suburban?” Jayne said. “We can stop at McDonald’s on the way. I’m sure the children are hungry.”

Three voices clamored in excitement, and Emma felt a twinge of annoyance. But Jayne got her way. Of course.

Luke sat in the front with Jayne, Peter and Danny in the back, and Emma and Rebekah in the middle. At least Emma got the car seat in without too much effort. Part of her wanted to see the look on Mrs. Schneider’s face when she saw this vehicle.

After stopping for nuggets and fries, they soon pulled into the Sullivan driveway. Right behind Keith. Luke raised an eyebrow at Emma when he saw the house, impressive even by lamplight. Emma pretended not to notice.

Keith stood beside his car, staring at their vehicle until the doors opened to reveal Peter and Danny. Then he smiled and strolled over. Emma unbuckled Rebekah and hurried to pull her out and remove her car seat. Keith took his daughter into his arms and kissed her cheek. Luke got out and offered a hand to help Jayne, and then introduced her to Keith.

Emma liked Jayne. She really did. But she felt a burst of intense annoyance to see her shake Keith’s hand, laugh at something he said, and look so glamorous. Yanking the seat out of the automobile, she thrust it at Keith. He let go of Jayne’s hand to grab it, staring at Emma in surprise.

Emma knew her irritation showed on her face but didn’t care. “They did very well this evening,” she told Keith. She said goodbye to Rebekah and got back in the Suburban, closing the door behind her.

She saw Luke and Jayne exchange a glance before they joined her. Keith backed away from them, Rebekah clinging to him, and went indoors.

Emma sat in frustration, wondering why they didn’t leave. “Let’s go.”

Luke turned and spoke to her. “Aren’t we forgetting someone?”

Emma slapped her hand across her mouth. Danny had run inside with Peter. Now she’d have to go and get him. Her father grimaced and Emma cringed at his disapproval. She was being childish.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmured and was soon at the front door.

Keith opened it and looked surprised to see her. He still held his daughter.

Emma took a deep breath. “I forgot Danny.”

Keith grinned and called up the stairs. “Peter, tell Danny to come down here.” He turned back to her, but Emma was too embarrassed to face him and smiled at the child in his arms instead.

Keith let a yawning Rebekah slide down to the floor. “Say one more goodbye to Miss Emma and then go find Mrs. Schneider.”

After a quick hug, she was gone. Emma inspected her fingernails.

Keith cleared his throat. “Emma.”

She jerked her head up to look at him. “Yes?”

“Thanks for taking them today.”

“No problem,” she whispered, staring at him. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch his arm, smooth his hair, rest her head on his chest. Be his. The thought shocked her.

Kiss me. Please kiss me.

He stared as if he could read her thoughts, and Emma lowered her eyes in shame. She’d never felt like this before, not even with Adam. What was happening to her?

Danny’s arrival saved her from any further embarrassment.

ef

“We can’t come next week,” Peter said sadly. “We’re going to my grandma’s for Thanksgiving and will be gone for two Sundays.”

Emma bit back her disappointment. She hadn’t seen Keith since they’d all taken the children home the week before. With flu going around the hospital he’d been covering for ill staff. He had told her he hated imposing on her generosity, but she’d assured him she didn’t mind picking up the children again. She told herself it wasn’t partly because she would see him. She knew she lied.

“Don’t worry,” she told Peter. “You’ve already got your part memorized, and as soon as you get back, we’ll finish up your costume. Rebekah knows her song but get her to practice it when you can, especially the second verse.”

Peter hugged her. “I’ll miss you.”

She kissed the top of his head and hugged him back. “I’ll miss you too, honey. Be good and take care of your sister.” And your father.

Keith wasn’t home when she dropped them off. Rebekah cried when they parted, and Emma wanted to cry too. No matter how much she told herself otherwise, he was all she could think about. He’d called a couple of times during the week, when Peter wanted to talk to Danny. She had spoken to him, briefly, but wanted to look at him and be with him. Listen to him laugh and joke with the children. See him smile at her.

God must be teaching her a lesson about something, and she wished He would get it over with. If it had anything to do with Keith, then this test she would surely fail.

ef

Rebekah fretted during the entire flight to Phoenix, and Keith was glad when they landed. Emma had given Peter a book on the biblical Peter, and Keith’s son read it cover to cover and then began to read it again. Peter. Reading a book. Emma was quite the miracle worker with his children. Not for the first time, he wished he could’ve invited her.

His parents waited outside the baggage area. Tom and Caroline Sullivan were happy to see their son but ecstatic to see their only grandchildren.

Keith sat in the front of the Explorer and listened to his father complain about the traffic while his mother sat behind them, talking to Peter and Rebekah.

“...don’t know why people like that are allowed on the road. They shouldn’t...”

“I’m going to be one of the three kings, and Rebekah’s going to sing. I know my part, but Miss Emma said Rebekah needs to practice the second verse. Can you help?”

“...been working on this road for six months, and it’s still a mess. What we need is more...”

“Grandma, Miss Emma reads me stories. She got me this book about me in the Bible—”

Peter interrupted his sister. “You’re not in the Bible. That’s someone else with the same name.”

“I don’t care. Miss Emma gave me a book with a story about Rebekah, and that’s me.”

“Show me the book, sweetie.”

“It’s in my backpack. Peter, reach it for me. Miss Emma says...”

“Keith. Are you listening? Look at that eyesore over there. That building blocks the prettiest view you ever did see.”

I bet it isn’t as pretty as Emma.

Later that evening, Keith fidgeted. He should be comfortable. Should relax. But his fingers itched to do something and his mind, more often than not, wandered in Emma’s direction. His father disappeared into the den to build a Lego metropolis with his grandchildren, and Keith sat at the kitchen table, listening to his mother chat while she peeled vegetables for the following day.

“I’d hoped your brother would join us for Thanksgiving, but he’s in Singapore for two weeks. Why Matt had to work for a company that constantly sends him around the world, I have no idea. It’s no wonder he and Jasmine split up. I’d hoped they’d get back together again over the holidays. Such a pity.”

His mother poured two glasses of lemonade and sat beside him. Her eyes locked on his. “My grandchildren are very talkative today. Who’s this Miss Emma they keep telling me about?”

Keith gulped a mouthful of lemonade and answered hurriedly. “Church. She’s the pastor’s daughter and working on a Christmas pageant. Both Peter and Rebekah are going to be in the pageant.”

“Then their grandparents will come down to watch.” She gave him one of those looks that had made him nervous for as long as he could remember. “Perhaps we could meet her too? And a boy called Danny?”

“Of course. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

His mother nodded, her eyes searching his face. “I see. Are you going to church again, honey?”

For once, he could answer this question to her satisfaction. “When I’m not working, yes.”

His mother smiled in relief. “Good.” She sipped her lemonade. “I don’t remember Pastor McComskey having a daughter. Is there a new pastor at your church?”

Keith fidgeted. “Not a new pastor. A new church. In Acton Heights.”

His mother gasped. “Why there? It’s hardly the best part of town.”

“It’s a lovely little church, and the children enjoy it.”

“Shh. No need to get defensive, dear. So this church is where you met Emma? Is she a nice girl?”

Keith opened his mouth to reply but had been caught off guard by the question. He nodded, closed his mouth, and swallowed. “She’s very nice, yes. The children are quite fond of her.” As am I. “Do you think the children are behaving for Dad, or should I go and rescue him?”

“Your father was a pediatrician for thirty-five years. He can handle his grandchildren.” She smiled. “I can take a hint. You don’t want to talk about Emma, so I’ll wait to see her for myself. At least the children seem to like her. It’s a comfort you’re all back in church.”

Keith stared at the rim of his glass. No, he didn’t want to talk about Emma. Not to someone who loved Marisa almost as much as he had. They hadn’t gotten on very well at first, but eventually his mother had called Marisa the daughter she’d always wanted. Could she accept another?

The thought slapped him in the face. Can I? How could he even consider the possibility?

His mother’s matter-of-fact voice interrupted his thoughts. “Earth to Keith. Where did you go?” She stood and kissed the top of his head. “If I even want to know the answer. I’ll leave you alone, for now, and make some cookies. Why don’t you go help out with the construction project down the hall?”

Keith sat out on the porch with his father later that evening, enjoying the cool breeze and silence interspersed only by an occasional cricket. Cell phone reception was spotty at best, but the hospital knew his parents’ phone number and could find Keith if they needed him. He leaned back in the Adirondack chair and closed his eyes, trying once again to relax and enjoy the unusual inactivity. What’s Emma doing now?

“Your mother says you’ve met someone.”

Keith sat up in surprise. “What?”

“She said you’ve met someone. I know. You meet people all the time. But she said this Emma sounded special, both to you and the children. Your mother’s trying to come to terms with that, but I think it’s about time you found someone else.”

Keith was silent.

“It’s okay, son. I know how much you loved Marisa, but don’t you think she’d want you and the kids to be happy?”

“Yes, Emma is special.” Very special. “But only a friend. I promised to love only Marisa, and I can’t betray her.”

His father’s words were blunt. “Till death do you part. You are parted. Time for you to move on.”

Keith propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin on his fist. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Yes, I know. Thank God, I still have your mother. If I’m unlucky enough that she goes first, I’ll miss her terribly. However, I wouldn’t have long to wait. You, God willing, should have another forty or fifty years ahead of you. That’s a long time to be lonely.”

“How can I be lonely with Peter and Rebekah?”

“You may not be alone, but that doesn’t mean you’re not lonely. You need a best friend. A soul mate. Someone to come home to each day.”

Keith leaned his head back once more. “I miss my wife. I loved her so much and still do. I don’t know if I could ever have a relationship with anyone else.”

“I’m not saying you have to. But, if the opportunity presents itself...” His father shrugged. “Give it a chance.”

Keith pictured a pair of sparkling eyes and smiled. “Maybe you should say that to Emma. Sometimes, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

His father’s face crinkled in amusement. “Perhaps that’s a good thing.”

“Why?”

“Nothing against the girl, I’ve never met her. But I wouldn’t want it to be easy, for you or for her. Think it through.”

Keith frowned and flexed his fingers, staring at his ring. “Cora thinks she’s a gold-digger.”

A deep rumble of laughter made him look up.

“Cora Schneider is trying to protect both you and her job. But only you need worry about Emma’s motives. If she has any.”

Keith took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “She’s so good with the kids, Dad. Emma, that is. They adore her, and she treats them differently. More like Marisa did than Cora ever has. When she’s around—everything is different. Better. But I don’t know if she enjoys our company as much as we enjoy hers.”

His father stared at him in contemplative silence for a moment. “Two words of caution for you, son. If you get married again, don’t do it for my grandchildren’s sake. It should be for you and for her.” His voice softened. “And don’t be hasty. Make sure you’re not trying to replace Marisa with the first available candidate.”

Was he? No. There were plenty of eligible women at the hospital. Nice, friendly, attractive. Good with kids. Like Emma. But—not Emma. He’d known Marisa was for him the moment he set eyes on her. She’d only been seventeen, and he’d been in the infancy of his medical career. A path that put their marriage plans on hold for five years. But that hadn’t mattered. Marisa was the only one he’d ever cared about. He would have waited ten years to be with her.

Now, every moment he spent with Emma was too short. He had more free time, usually, than ever before. He’d love to spend it with her and with his children. Emma never seemed to mind his children. There’d been something about her since the first time he met her, sprinkled in flour and smelling like cookie dough. Something special, as his mother had already figured out.

Marisa used to tell him God put the right people together although they didn’t always recognize His will. Keith hadn’t believed God cared about things like that, but now he wondered. Had He placed Emma in Keith’s life for a purpose? Could she fill the empty void in his family’s home? More importantly, would she want to?

His father stood and slapped Keith on the shoulder. “I fancy a nightcap. Let’s go ask your mother to make us some of her wonderful hot chocolate.”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

6

Emma placed the last ornament and stretched her arms behind her back. Jayne’s idea was brilliant. Take one of every Christmas ornament they had and decorate a small tree to catch everyone’s eye. She’d been glad when the store closed, as customers had helped themselves to the items already on the tree as quickly as she put them up.

Jayne walked over and surveyed Emma’s handiwork. “Beautiful, darling. Simply adorable. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you staying late on a Wednesday. I could never have gotten everything ready without you.”

Emma stifled a yawn. “No problem. There was no service, and Dad volunteered to peel potatoes for tomorrow, so I’m not missing anything. He’s enjoyed the children all week too. Thanks for providing so much pizza.”

Jayne hugged her. “You are wonderful, dear, sweet Emma. And your father is a treasure. Are you sure I won’t be a bother tomorrow?”

“Of course you won’t, and besides, you bought most of the food. Dad loves to cook. He’s not as good as Mom but not bad for an old geezer. He’ll be taste testing the turkey and ham every thirty minutes. If he remembers to keep Danny away from the apple pie then everything will be fine. If not—it will be à la mode for dessert.”

The tears in Jayne’s eyes surprised Emma until she remembered this was her first Thanksgiving since her husband died. She squeezed her new friend’s hand. “Everything should be ready by one but come over as early as you want to. It will be chaos before, and afterwards Dad will sit around and complain how he’s eaten too much. And then,” she added with a smile, “it will be an early night so we can open at seven on Friday morning.”

Jayne gave a rare squeal of excitement. “Yes! Our first big sale. Oh, Emma, I’m nervous and happy all at the same time. And I couldn’t have done any of it without you.” She kissed Emma on the cheek. “I have big plans for us and this little shop. Big plans.”

They both stared at the beautiful Christmas tree.

“Some little white lights, perhaps?” Emma asked. “I think they’d set off the crystal angels very well.”

“Absolutely, my dear. You know where they are. Go and help yourself.”

ef

Her father wasn’t the only one who ate too much. Jayne insisted on helping Danny with the dishes and dispatched both chefs into the living room. Emma sat and yawned. She lolled her head against the back of the couch and yawned again. Her father was already asleep in the recliner. The ringing of her cell phone startled her, as did the name on the display. Her father opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow in her direction.

She hoped she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. “Hello?”

“Emma?”

She caught her breath. How she’d missed his voice.

“We wanted to call and wish you happy Thanksgiving. Danny too. Is he there? Peter would like to talk to him.”

“Thank you, Keith, that’s very kind of you. Yes, Danny’s here.” Emma called into the kitchen as Jayne walked in and sat on the armchair beside her father. “Danny, telephone!”

“How are you, Emma?” Keith said.

Jayne and her father both stared, and Emma knew her cheeks were red.

“Me? I’m fine, thanks. Ready for our big Black Friday sale tomorrow. How are your parents? Did you have a good flight?”

“Everyone’s fine, and yes, we did. Here’s Peter. Take care of yourself.”

“Miss Emma? It’s Peter. Can I talk to Danny?”

Emma regretfully handed the phone over to an eager Danny. Her father and Jayne watched her closely. “Keith,” she told them. “Peter wanted to talk to Danny.”

Jayne smiled. “Of course.” She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Luke. “That was a wonderful meal. Thank you.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand. “No. Thank you for giving us the pleasure of your company.”

Emma watched them. Her father was more relaxed and happy than she’d seen in a long time. Years. Jayne kicked off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her, one hand still entwined with Luke’s. She reminded Emma of a contented cat, and she thought Jayne might purr as her fingers were rubbed. Emma forced herself to turn away. The action was private, intimate. Her father had often rubbed her mother’s hands, and it stunned Emma to see him treating Jayne in the same way.

Danny stuck the phone in her face. “Rebekah wants to talk to you. I’m going outside to see if any of the kids are playing. Thanks for dinner.” He kissed her cheek, waved at the others, and was gone. Emma took the phone and walked into the kitchen while Rebekah chatted in her ear. The little girl said goodbye, and Emma was about to end the call when she heard Keith.

“Emma, are you still there?”

Her answer caught in her throat. “Yes.” Why couldn’t she speak properly?

“We’re coming back earlier than planned on Sunday so we’ll be at rehearsal. The kids wanted me to invite you and Danny to Chili’s again afterwards.”

The kids wanted. She slowly exhaled her disappointment. “Of course, that would be nice. Thank you.”

“Good night, Emma. Happy Thanksgiving.”

Somehow, she managed to respond. “Goodbye, Keith. Thanks for calling.”

She stared at the phone and wanted to cry. Whatever her feelings for Keith might be, they were not returned. Emma was nothing more than a friend and companion to his kids. Like she always said she would be. Whatever else she might wish for, he wouldn’t want. Probably didn’t even think about. How could she deal with seeing him again?

God, help me.

ef

The morning was an exhausting, exciting, exhilarating success.

People lined up outside the store well before seven, and a steady stream filtered in and out throughout the morning. Jayne looked happy enough to burst, and even Mrs. Perkins smiled as she bagged up purchase after purchase. In no time at all, the boxes beside the tree were empty and the tree itself mostly bare of its earlier adornment.

At two o’clock, the crowds thinned, and Jordan showed up to help. Emma hadn’t been too sure about hiring someone so young, but Jayne insisted. In return, the grateful Jordan worked hard and learned quickly, and Emma knew Jayne was about to surprise the teen with a pay raise.

Jayne beckoned to Emma and patted the seat of an overstuffed sofa. “Come and sit by me, dear. Put your feet up while you can. It’ll be busy again this evening.”

Emma was more than happy to rest her aching arches and sighed in relief.

“Emma, are you sure you don’t need to go home? We can manage.”

“No. If you can survive a fourteen-hour day then so can I. We’ll shut the door at nine and go home to collapse before coming back tomorrow to do it all over again.”

Jayne laughed. “Thank you. You are such a treasure and do a lot for the store, Emma. I want you to be my official assistant manager. There’d be a pay raise, of course, and a few more hours of work, if you want them. I’m not very good at doing the books, and Luke said you were. He’s volunteered to help out with the after-school kids until Christmas is over with.”

Emma stared at Jayne’s hand and remembered how her father had caressed it. “Thank you, Jayne. That would be very nice. I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

“You will, you will. Although I think you should take off a couple of days next week to rest. You look very tired. We won’t have another sale until next weekend so the crowds will be less.”

“Perhaps. But right now it seems we’re about to get busy again.”

Seven hours later, Jayne switched off the Open sign and locked the front door. “Whew! I don’t know about you, Emma, but I’m exhausted. Would you like me to take you home?”

“No, Dad will be here soon. Thanks, though.”

When her father arrived, he hugged Emma. Then stunned her by kissing Jayne on the cheek and inviting her to lunch on Sunday.

“Burt Keller gave me a couple of huge steaks last month, and they’re still sitting in the freezer,” he said. “It’ll do me good to fire up the grill.”

He walked Jayne to her car while Emma sat waiting in his, trying to come to grips with this new side of her father. She’d known he liked Jayne, but this was more. He got in beside her and watched the other vehicle pull out of the parking lot. “Isn’t she a wonderful woman?”

Emma hoped she wasn’t frowning. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

Her father sighed. “Wonderful, indeed.”

Emma leaned her head back and stared out of the window beside her, thinking of Keith. She must be tired. All she wanted to do was cry.

ef

Around the time Emma didn’t think she could watch her father waiting on and fussing over Jayne a moment longer, the doorbell rang. Danny ran to open it, and Emma followed.

Keith stood before her, and she almost threw her arms around his neck. “Hi,” she said.

He smiled but looked embarrassed. “I hate to do this but...”

“What?”

“I know practice doesn’t start for another hour, but I need to go to the hospital, and Mrs. Schneider’s flight was delayed. Would it be okay if...?”

Emma choked back her disappointment. He hadn’t come early to see her, he just needed a babysitter. And she’d so looked forward to seeing him. “Of course. I don’t mind taking care of them.”

He frowned as if he’d sensed something in her voice or on her face. “I’m sorry. Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Of course I am. Drive carefully.”

His frown increased, but he kissed Rebekah and told Peter to behave. Then he left. Emma ignored her sadness and listened to the children’s excited tales of airplanes and grandparents. They’d brought Danny a t-shirt with a roadrunner on the front, and he immediately left to put it on. Emma knew he’d change before he went home so his father wouldn’t see it. Since Danny had been caught stealing a year ago, every possession was met with suspicion. Emma wasn’t sure if that would ever change, no matter how well Danny behaved.

Jayne insisted on helping with rehearsal, and Emma welcomed her ideas. She’d long given up trying to talk Jayne out of anything, and the children loved her. She pushed away her self-pity, glad Keith turned to her in a time of need.

There was no word from him after rehearsal so the six of them traipsed back to the Chandler home. Jayne’s idea to order pizza and put up the Christmas tree was a big hit with the children, and Emma grinned at the smug expression on her father’s face. He’d never admit it, but pizza was one of his favorite foods.

They’d had an artificial tree for years, and no one could tell how bare the branches were if enough tinsel was wrapped around them. However, Jayne had shown up that morning with a real, flocked tree. Emma had to admit it was beautiful, and the fresh pine scent filled up the entire house.

“Cool,” Peter said as they strung popcorn. “Mrs. Schneider always gets someone in to do our decorations, and we’re not allowed to touch the tree once it’s up.”

Jayne glanced at Emma then spoke to Peter. “What a shame. But I think you can touch Miss Emma’s tree all you want.”

The trimming complete, Luke lifted Rebekah to put the angel on top of the tree. Danny counted backwards from five, and Peter turned on the strings of multi-colored lights that decorated the branches. A combined sigh of admiration echoed around the room, and the children’s eyes shone with delight.

“It’s beautiful,” Rebekah said, awestruck.

“She’s right, Jayne.” Emma gave her a hug. “Thanks so much.”

Emma stepped back as her father took Jayne’s hand, surprised by the glance they exchanged. She’d seen their friendship flourish over a short period, but now there was more than friendship between them. Staring at the tree, Emma remembered her mother. She wanted her father to be happy, but she hadn’t considered the fact he might one day find someone else. From the way he looked at Jayne, and she at him, he had. Emma glanced at his left hand.

The ring was gone.

“Can we make some cookies now?” said Danny.

Emma nodded and led the children into the kitchen, leaving her father and Jayne in the living room. He still held her hand.

Keith appeared at nine, full of apologies. Emma invited him in, but he declined.

“I’m sorry. The staff shortage is even worse than before, and I need to be there early in the morning.”

Emma fought tears as she closed the door behind him. Peter had suggested they take Danny home on their way, so only Jayne remained with the Chandlers. Emma took a deep breath and walked slowly toward her father’s study. She stopped, frozen in shock.

A piece of mistletoe hung above the doorway, and her father and Jayne stood underneath it. His hands were on each side of her face and his lips pressed against hers.

Emma backed away and fled to the kitchen. She’d never seen her father kiss anyone except her mother. Never thought she ever would. Emma gave herself a minute to get used to the idea. Another minute. Deep breath.

She approved. They’d be good for each other.

No one had appeared by the time Emma finished clearing away the cookie remains. From the doorway she heard muted conversation and didn’t want to disturb them, so she crept up to her room.

She sat on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair, thinking about Keith and wishing they’d been the ones under the mistletoe.

ef

Jan gave Keith the phone. “It’s your son. He says it’s an emergency.”

“Dad! Mrs. Schneider hurt herself.”

“What happened?”

“We were going to leave to take me to school, and she slipped on the ice and did something to her ankle. She says she’s okay, but she can’t walk right and her foot is all red and swollen. She called the school and said I won’t be there. Can you come look at it?”

Keith hesitated. Monday morning chaos. He was about to go into surgery, and his assistant sent him hurry up signals from down the hallway. “Peter, did she ask you to call me?”

“No, but she’s hurting real bad. She made me get her an ice pack and some medicine, and she’s sitting with her foot up on a chair. Please, Dad, it hurts her. Come home.”

Potential solutions to the problem flipped through his mind. He could wait until he got home. He could ask to talk to Mrs. Schneider. He could find a substitute to take care of his waiting patient. Or...or he could call Emma. Peter had mentioned she’d be off for a couple of days.

“Peter, let me see if Miss Emma can come over. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

He handed the desk phone back to Jan and pulled his cell out of his pocket, glad he’d put Emma on speed dial.

“Emma, I’m sorry to bother you but there’s a small crisis at my house. I’m about to go into surgery and wondered”—he paused and took a deep breath— “if there was any way you could go and stay with the children for a few hours? Mrs. Schneider has hurt her ankle, and Peter is very concerned.”

There was a moment of silence before she spoke. “Of course I can. I’m out for a walk but will grab the car and get over there as soon as possible. If it’s bad, I’ll take her to get it x-rayed.”

“Thank you. I’ll call you later.”

Emma was always there when he needed her. Ignoring the look on Jan’s face, Keith strode down the hallway.

ef

Emma knocked at the front door soon afterwards. She’d been surprised to hear his voice and disappointed when she discovered the reason for the call. But, being the babysitter was better than nothing, and she did adore his children. She should be grateful he turned to her in need, and she wasn’t going to let him down.

Her father was more than happy to hear he’d be watching the after-school crowd. Emma had a suspicion his sudden attachment to them had a lot to do with Jayne’s afternoon visits. And the pizza she invariably brought.

An excited Peter answered the door and led her back to a disgruntled Mrs. Schneider, who wasn’t at all pleased to see her.

“It’s nothing,” she protested but winced as Emma knelt on the floor and moved the ice pack to inspect the injured ankle.

“Mrs. Schneider, you need to get that x-rayed. Look how red and swollen it is. Let me take you to the emergency room.”

“No.” Mrs. Schneider reapplied the ice pack. “I don’t need your help.”

Emma took the unwilling woman’s hand. “Mrs. Schneider, I know you don’t like me very much, although I’m not sure why. But please, let me help you. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“I don’t need help from your type.”

Emma let go of the other woman’s hand and stood. “My type? What does that mean?”

“I know what you’re doing. And I know all about that act you’re putting on. It might work with him, but I know what you’re after. You can leave. I’m fine.”

Emma had no idea what she was talking about and watched with concern as Mrs. Schneider tried to stand. Her face crumpled, and she fell back into the chair.

Putting her hands on her hips, Emma insisted. “Look. Like it or not, like me or not, you need help. Dr. Sullivan asked me to come over, and we’re going to get you taken care of. No more arguing.”

To Emma’s surprise, Mrs. Schneider’s lip trembled, and she looked as if she were going to cry. She turned her head away from Emma and admitted to being in a lot of pain. Emma helped her into the car while she made sure Peter buckled Rebekah securely in her car seat. Mrs. Schneider said the emergency room at Keith’s hospital was always too busy so, after checking everyone’s seat belts, Emma drove to a nearby urgent care center. By the time they got there, tears flowed freely down Mrs. Schneider’s face.

Keith called her right after they received the results of the x-ray.

“How is she?”

“Nothing broken, only a bad sprain. They’ve bandaged it nicely. A few days with her feet up should take care of everything.”

“Good. I’ll call an agency and find someone to take care of the children while she recovers. Thank you, Emma. You have no idea how grateful I am, and how sorry I’ve wasted your day.”

“Hardly a waste.” Emma held her hand out to Rebekah and pulled her onto her lap, breathing in the fragrance of strawberry shampoo. She’d do anything for his kids. Anything for him. Would he ever see her as anything more than a friend? A convenience? Maybe not, but it didn’t change how she felt. “It isn’t a problem, really,” she said. “Dad’s been taking care of the after-school crowd lately, anyway. Listen, why don’t you let me take care of the kids for the next few days? That would be easier for everyone. I’m not doing anything else.”

She could hear the hesitation in his voice. “I don’t know, Emma. The children would love it, but that would be asking too much.”

“Let’s try it tomorrow and see how it goes.”

“Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I’ll pay you, of course.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll be happy to do it.” Happy to be in his home for a couple of days. With his children, closer to him.

A small downstairs sitting room had a sofa bed, and Emma helped Mrs. Schneider get comfortable there so she wouldn’t have to climb the stairs. “I’ll get the children ready for bed and then wait for Keith to come home before I leave. What time should I be here in the morning?”

“I usually get the children up around seven. Dr. Sullivan leaves for work just before eight, and right after that Peter has to be taken to school.” The older woman grabbed her arm as she turned to go. “Emma, I’m sorry. You’re sweet and gentle and helping me when I haven’t been very nice to you. I was wrong, and I feel ashamed.”

“Don’t be. We’re friends now and that’s what matters. I’ll be here at six-thirty so you can tell me what I need to do.”

Mrs. Schneider beamed. “That would be perfect. Thanks so much. Take the spare set of house keys with you. They’re on the hook in the kitchen. Look for the blue turtle key ring. That way you can let yourself in and don’t have to wait. I’ll make sure Dr. Sullivan turns off the alarm when he gets up. And please, call me Cora.”

Emma gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and asked once more if she was comfortable before going to find Rebekah. Both children helped make a plateful of sandwiches for supper, and then cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen while they chatted to Danny over the telephone.

Two hours later, the children were bathed and ready for bed. They sat up in the game room with Emma and worked on a large jigsaw puzzle while they waited for their father. Peter often lamented Danny’s absence, and Emma wished he could have been there too, making her day almost perfect.

Finally, the soft chime of the alarm system signaled Keith’s arrival.

Peter ran to the top of the stairs. “We’re up here, Dad!”

He and Rebekah quickly went down, Emma following at a slower pace.

Keith walked into the hallway and smiled at her. A wonderful smile that tore into her heart and caught her breath. She wished she could always be there when he came home.

“Can I get you anything?” she said.

“No. I can find something to eat, and you’ve already been here all day. I can’t thank you enough. Are you sure you can come back tomorrow?

“Yes. I’ve got everything sorted out with Mrs. Schneider. She told me to take the spare keys and that you would turn off the alarm before I got here. Is that okay?”

“Two-five-two-one, in case I forget.”

“Excuse me?”

“The alarm code. Twenty-five, twenty-one. Peter’s birthday is the twenty-fifth of September, and Rebekah’s is the twenty-first of May.”

His trust sent a small thrill through her. She moved toward the door, but he took and held her hand.

“Dear Emma, thank you so much.”

Her pulse raced at his touch, and she felt a flush of pleasure sting her cheeks. Embarrassed at her reaction, she pulled away. “No problem.” She darted out through the door and into her car.

Please, God, no. Don’t let me fall in love with him. I couldn’t bear it.

She didn’t need God to tell her the prayer was too late.

ef

Emma arrived at six-thirty the following morning, but didn’t require either the keys or the alarm code. Peter opened the front door for her as soon as she got out of the car, an excited Rebekah beside him. Cora already sat in the kitchen. She chatted with Emma as she made breakfast for the talkative children. Between them, they managed to spill a glass of milk and laughed over their chaos as Keith walked in.

“Sorry,” Emma said. “We had a little accident here.”

Peter caught her eye, and they both grinned. Rebekah giggled.

Keith looked confused. “What’s so funny about spilled milk?”

“No good crying over it,” Cora said. Then she chuckled, and Keith stared at them all in surprise.

“Can I get you anything?” Emma said to Keith, wiping up the remains of the mess.

“No, thanks, I can upset my own drink.” He grinned at her, and Emma held back a sigh of relief he didn’t mind his kitchen had been turned upside down so quickly.

“Can I make you some coffee?”

He shook his head. “No, thanks. My father once told me good surgeons eat healthy and stay away from alcohol and drugs, including caffeine. My diet may slide occasionally, but I stick to the rest of his advice. I’d love some orange juice though, please.”

Ten minutes later, she followed him through the utility room to the back door. There was an odd expression in his eyes as he turned to say goodbye.

“That was a wonderful way to start the day.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Thanks, Em. I’ll see you later.”

She shut the door behind him and leaned against it, knees weak. He kissed me. She closed her eyes. Was he only being friendly? Polite? He kissed me.

Peter interrupted her daydream. “Miss Emma, I’m ready for school.”

She made herself stand upright and smile. “Then let’s go.”

Emma and Rebekah talked Cora into playing Candyland for most of the day, and time flew by. Rebekah agreed to take Emma’s turns while she went to pick up Peter, and it was suppertime before she knew it. Emma frequently glanced at the clock in anticipation of Keith’s arrival home. She couldn’t wait to see him, to talk to him. Her cheek tingled whenever she remembered his touch.

When he walked in that evening, the sight of him stole her conversation. She mumbled like a schoolgirl, pulse racing and cheeks on fire. What a fool she was. She made her excuses and left. Perhaps she’d get up enough nerve to speak sensibly tomorrow.

ef

“Emma, dear,” Cora said the next morning. “Would you mind picking up Dr. Sullivan’s clothes from the dry cleaners? It’s not far from Peter’s school.”

Emma didn’t mind at all, and Peter pointed it out on the way. She returned with an armful of shirts and suits. Rebekah skipped down the hallway ahead of her and opened the door to her father’s bedroom. Emma walked slowly behind, holding the coat hangers and swishing plastic. Her heart pounded, and she considered waiting for Peter to get home so he could put away the clothes. She didn’t want to go in there. Not in there.

“C’mon,” Rebekah said and walked in, leaving the door wide open behind her.

Emma took a deep breath and followed, her feet sinking into the deep pile of the white carpet. A large oak four-poster bed took up the center of the room, and, strangely embarrassed, she averted her eyes from the golden covers.

As in the rest of the house, pictures of Marisa were everywhere. Marisa with Keith, Marisa with the children, Marisa by herself. There were several larger family portraits, and, judging by Rebekah’s age, Emma concentrated on the most recent. She couldn’t help but notice how pale Marisa looked and how sad. The children grinned, but Keith stood with a forced smile, and Marisa sat as if in agony.

Emma felt a lump in her throat. It was easy to forget how ill the other woman had been. She wondered if she’d been in pain when she died or if, like Emma’s mother, had slipped into a drug-induced coma first. Either way, she’d suffered. They’d all suffered.

Emma looked around the room but didn’t want to open any of the doors. “Bekah, which one is Daddy’s closet?

The child ran over to a door and threw it open. “This one.”

Emma walked in and hung up the clothes on the nearest piece of empty rail; Keith could sort them out himself. The closet smelled of leather, dry-cleaning solution, and Keith’s spicy cologne. She didn’t dare look around and slipped out again. Rebekah had disappeared.

“Where did you go?”

“In here.”

Emma put her hand on the half-opened door. Rebekah sat on the floor in a different closet, pulling on a pair of high-heels that must have belonged to her mother. No perfume in here, only mothballs. Apart from a scattering of shoes, Rebekah no doubt, it looked as if no one had done anything in there since Marisa’s death. Emma could not control the shiver than ran up her spine. Everything left as if waiting for her to come back. Wrong.

A row of beautiful gowns hung at the back of the closet, with a rack of expensive shoes beside them. Emma fingered the collection of designer purses on hooks, trying not to be jealous and instead find sympathy.

The orphaned belongings brought back memories of Emma’s own mother. The agony of her last few months had torn through Emma and almost destroyed her father. The final goodbye was almost a relief, until the knowledge set in she’d gone forever. Emma had wanted to pack up all her mother’s possessions immediately, but he’d insisted on doing it over several months. He told her it was part of his grieving, and healing, process.

Keith kept Marisa around him, even now. He still grieved and would never heal.

Emma felt tears prick the back of her eyes and called to Rebekah as she turned and left the bedroom. Thumps and clicks behind her told her Rebekah closed the closet and bedroom doors.

Not wanting Cora to see her face, Emma took Rebekah outside to the swing set and pushed her, trying to clear her mind. How could she be jealous of someone who had suffered so much? Why should it matter what Marisa had or was? It wouldn’t change anything.

Emma might make a good babysitter, but men like Keith didn’t marry women like her. Their wives were glamorous and looked good in expensive clothes. Like Marisa in the portrait. Like Jayne. Emma’s stomach clenched as she remembered her former roommate. Claire had been gorgeous too. Emma looked shabby no matter what she wore. Her face never stayed clean, her hair was often untidy, and there was usually a ragged fingernail or two no matter how she tried.

I’m sorry, God. I know You made me, but I wish You would’ve left me in the kiln a little longer. Sometimes I feel not quite done. Not quite ready. Unprepared for anyone, but especially for someone like him.

She gulped away her anguish and pushed Rebekah even higher, wishing she could get on the swing herself and jump off into the clouds. She’d run to heaven and find her mother. Her grandmother. Someone to confide in and help her through the troubled patches of her life. Adam had hurt her pride, but losing him was secondary to her mother’s death. It wasn’t long before she’d realized she didn’t miss him anymore and doubted the depth of their love.

It wouldn’t be that easy with Keith. He wasn’t hers to lose, but she already cared too much.

Rebekah fell asleep in Emma’s arms soon after their playtime. Emma stared at the beautiful face propped against her shoulder, long black lashes in contrast to soft white skin. How could she be jealous of Marisa when the other woman wasn’t able to hold something so precious? Emma knew if Rebekah were her own daughter, she’d do anything for the little girl. Give up everything to be together.

She was amazed at how she felt. After such a short time, she had an incredible love for both Rebekah and Peter. Considered them and Danny in the same sentence, almost the same breath. She couldn’t imagine a world without them, no matter how heavenly that world might be. “I’m so sorry, Marisa,” she whispered. “I promise to take care of your angels as much as I can.”

Rebekah awoke, and, still pensive, Emma carried her into the kitchen for a snack.

Cora had hobbled to the sink and stood there, injured foot propped on a stool, peeling potatoes.

Emma made herself smile and look cheerful as she helped. “You’re getting around a lot better now, but are you sure you don’t need me tomorrow?”

“Yes, Emma, dear, I certainly am. It’s so much better, and I’ll be able to drive by the morning.” With friendship came perception. “You look sad. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Mmm. Dr. Sullivan is a good man, don’t you think?”

“Yes. He is.” Emma tried desperately to think of a different subject. She was too much in the mood to burst into tears.

“He’s been so lonely since his wife died.”

Emma stared at the vegetable in her hands. Why would Cora say something like that?

“She wasn’t like you, of course. Marisa, that is. You’re so capable. Poor Mrs. Sullivan could hardly do anything for herself. She was never strong. I took care of their house as soon as they were married. When she was expecting Peter, I moved in. She had to have bed rest and C-sections for both babies, so I’ve been here ever since. The last six months of her life were difficult for us all, and she told me how much I meant to the family.” Cora sighed as she filled the sink with fresh water. “I suppose if Dr. Sullivan got married again his new wife wouldn’t need me.”

Understanding flashed through Emma. No wonder Cora was unfriendly at first. She thought she was being replaced. Did she think Keith would turn her out in the street? “No, I’m sure they’d still need you. This is a big house, the children can be a handful, and Keith often works long hours. But...”

“Yes?”

“You can’t think he has any plans to get married again?” Emma bit her tongue, she hadn’t meant to sound bitter.

Cora turned to her in surprise. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because of his wife. She’s everywhere. Her clothes, her pictures, books, everything, everywhere. And Keith still wears his wedding ring.” Emma took a deep breath and echoed the words that hurt the most. “There will never be room in this house for another Mrs. Sullivan.”

Cora frowned before reaching across the countertop to get a cutting board. Emma’s outburst silenced the older woman for a few minutes, and she seemed to be thinking carefully before she spoke again.

“Not so long ago I would have agreed. But now, I’m not so sure.”

Emma began to cut up the potatoes and didn’t answer. Much as she’d love Cora to be right, there was no room for anyone else in Keith’s life. Not with Marisa still there.

The clock ticked closer to seven, and Emma grew restless. She couldn’t get Marisa, or her closet, out of her mind and knew she couldn’t face Keith. She closed the book she’d read to Rebekah and tried to keep her voice cheerful. “Looks like rain, so I’m going to head on out. Dr. Sullivan will be home soon anyway.”

The look she received confirmed Cora wasn’t fooled. “He’ll be sorry to have missed you, but whatever you think best, dear.”

Emma nodded, said goodbye to the children, and left. Her stomach was in knots, and tears flowed freely down her face before she’d even made it to the end of the driveway.

She loved him. Totally and completely. But he would never love her in return. Not enough to let go of Marisa.

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

7

Keith stretched as he waited for the traffic light to change. Five minutes, and he’d be home.

Emma.

He’d be deceiving himself if he said she wasn’t the first person he wanted to see. How could he convince her not to disappear as soon as he set foot inside the house? Inside his home. Her presence made it a home, just as Marisa had done. Having Emma there in the mornings made him happier than he had imagined possible. He wished she’d stay and talk to him each evening. He loved to watch her, see her smile, but he couldn’t make any more demands on her time. It often seemed she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

Emma. She made his family happy. She makes me happy.

His grip on the steering wheel intensified. With Emma around, he didn’t miss Marisa as much. Some days, he hardly thought of her at all. He thought of Emma all the time. She was replacing Marisa in his life as she had in the lives of his children. Would Marisa forgive him? Did she forgive him?

The blare of a horn made him jump. The light had turned green, but he hadn’t moved. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, releasing the brake and allowing the car to roll forward.

Marisa is the only woman I have ever loved. I cannot replace Marisa with Emma.

“I love you, Marisa,” he said aloud. He’d told her a million times and nothing had changed. “I love you, Marisa.” He couldn’t control the break in his voice. “I miss you.”

He pulled into his driveway and waited for the garage door to open. Emma’s car was gone. Emma was gone.

The night was darker, his life lonelier. He whispered the thought screaming in his head. “I love you, Emma.”

He pulled into the garage and turned off the engine, closing the garage door behind him. Hands still gripping the top of the steering wheel, he lowered his head to touch them.

God, help me. Tell me what to do. I need Emma. I love Emma. But I’ll always love Marisa. How can I love both of them?

Rebekah was in his arms as soon as he’d made it through the door. “Daddy! Miss Emma taught me to read. I can read my name and Peter’s name and Danny’s name. Aren’t I clever?”

Mrs. Schneider always complained that Rebekah refused to learn her letters and had almost convinced Keith he needed to have his daughter tested for learning disabilities. Somehow, Emma had done it. Keith wasn’t surprised. Emma could do anything. “Yes, sweetheart,” he told Rebekah. “You’re very clever, and I’m very proud of you. Why don’t we practice some more words?”

Much later, Keith raised an eyelid to look at the time. Three o’clock. Not the alarm making such a noise. Cell phone. Must be the hospital. What now?

He stifled a groan and answered. In less than ten minutes, he was wide awake and pulling out of his driveway. Cathy O’Donnell’s aneurysm had ruptured and bled slowly into her skull. Felipe Rozicki was the resident on duty, but Cathy insisted on Keith doing the surgery.

Keith wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Felipe met him in the operating room as Cathy was wheeled in on a gurney.

Keith smiled. “Hello, Cathy.”

“Oh, Dr. Sullivan.” She grabbed his hand. “I waited too long, didn’t I? Now I’m so scared.”

“Don’t be. Everything will be fine. “

“Are you sure?” Large tears trickled down the outside corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to die. I’m not ready. It’s something easy for you to do, right? Just like you said. You’ll fix it, and I’ll be okay.”

Cathy’s breathing became labored, jagged. Her fingernails dug into his wrist and her face paled. The anesthesiologist picked up the mask, but Keith gave a small shake of his head. He didn’t want her going under until she was ready.

He squeezed her hand. “I’ll take care of you.”

“My husband,” she said.

“Outside, waiting. I’ve already spoken to him and will see him again when we’re through. Okay? I warned him you’ll be groggy for several hours, and you’ll have a tube attached for several days. But I promised we’d be done before the football game tonight.”

“Are you a Christian, Dr. Sullivan?”

He nodded, and she smiled. He waited a few more seconds. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m glad God is on your side.” Cathy relaxed back against the bed. Her grip on him loosened.

The nod Keith gave the anesthesiologist would have gone unnoticed by anyone else, and Cathy soon closed her eyes.

“We can still coil it.” Felipe said, handing him an angiogram.

Keith nodded as he examined the picture of Cathy’s aneurysm. Except...no. Something about the image bothered him.

Everything was in place. Everything was ready. They could handle the unexpected. Coiling would be easier. Her recovery would be much quicker. There wouldn’t be a hole in her skull.

Cathy’s voice haunted him. I don’t want to die. I’m not ready.

Keith had to make a decision. Choose. Clip or coil. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know. He took a deep breath. He needed help. More than he could find at the hospital. No one had more experience with this than him. Except—

Guide me, oh Lord.

Clip.

Why?

Clip.

Keith stared again and the words came. “The neck’s too wide. I think a coil would affect this artery. Let’s clip it.”

Felipe shrugged. “Your call.”

Keith hesitated and glanced at the catheter and coil of tiny wire. A modern medical miracle. But was it enough for Cathy?

No. His head cleared, and he was sure. Clip.

Four exhausting hours later, they were done.

Felipe nodded. “Good decision. We’d have gotten halfway through with a coil and then had to start over when the blood vessel fell apart. If we’d had enough time to save the patient. I thought you always did coils. What changed your mind?”

Keith took a deep breath and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with tired fingers. “Divine intervention.”

His colleague nodded in pensive agreement. “Best kind to have.”

Keith stepped into the waiting room. “Mr. O’Donnell, how are you holding up?”

Tired, red eyes met his. The voice came in a whisper. “Fine, Dr. Sullivan. How’s my Cathy doing?”

“We couldn’t use the coil. We had to do a craniotomy and insert a clip to seal off the break in her blood vessel. She’s awake and being taken to ICU. You can see her soon, but her recovery’s going to take much longer than we originally hoped.”

“Poor baby. She got a hole in her head. Did you have to shave off much hair? She was very concerned about that.”

Keith smiled. “Only a little. She’s going to need a lot of care for several weeks.”

Mr. O’Donnell struggled to speak. “Don’t you worry, doc. I’ll look after her good ’n’ proper. Thank you. And thank the dear Lord for guiding you. Cathy said He would.”

An hour later, Keith sat in the hospital’s small chapel. He should have gone home, but he needed to unwind. Needed to think. Needed someone to talk to.

Emma.

He stared at a row of candles, flickering dim light across the room. His father was right. Keith was lonely. He could have stepped into the corridor and talked to fifty people, but they wouldn’t have filled the void. He used to go home, exhausted, and pour his troubles on Marisa. He knew most of the time she’d had no idea what he was talking about. She found his chosen specialty appalling, and often voiced her opinion she might’ve been better off with a podiatrist. Bunions, she may have understood. Brain surgery, she did not.

Would Emma? Probably. She soaked up information and relayed it back to the children. If anyone was meant to be a teacher, it was Emma. Beautiful, wonderful Emma.

He closed his eyes. Soft music played in the background, and if the bench had been even slightly more comfortable, he would have fallen asleep. Keith forced himself off his perch. He needed to go and spend time with the children. In the last few weeks, they’d become close again and would be waiting for him.

You’ve given me many wonderful gifts, Lord. Don’t let me waste them.

ef

Keith knocked at Luke’s front door the next afternoon. Surgery ended early, and Felipe was on call. Keith could have gone home. Should have gone home. But he needed to talk to someone. Why he picked the father of the person he now adored, he had no idea.

Keith needed to know about heaven. He loved Emma. He needed and wanted Emma. If she returned his feelings, what then? If heaven existed, would he go if he married another woman? What would Marisa think? His stomach churned as he waited for the door to open.

Luke’s surprise was evident, but he called Keith into his study and offered him a chair. “How are you, Keith? Flu season going to be as bad as they say?”

“Looks like it. A different strain than expected, so the flu shots are ineffective. Half the ER staff is sick or recovering. Thanks to Emma, I’ve been able to help out there for the last couple of days.” Keith ran out of words and stared at the stack of papers between them.

Luke propped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on his hands. “What is it, son?”

Keith had so many questions but wasn’t sure where to start. “Is there a heaven?”

Luke slid his head off his hands and leaned back against his chair. “Yes. There is. Do you doubt that?”

“I’ve found I doubt a lot of things now. At least, I did. Now, I doubt my doubts. I’ve always believed in a God, known there must be a higher power. But I didn’t go for the every sparrow that falls bit. Didn’t think He cared about us all individually. If there is a heaven, if God is so great, why do we suffer? Why does He let it happen?”

“I don’t know if I can give you a complete answer. God doesn’t let us suffer. We let ourselves suffer. Most of what befalls us is our own fault because we made the wrong decision. How we handle it from there is up to us too. God will help, one way or another, if we call on Him. But He rarely steps in and saves the day for no reason. We have to believe and know that ultimately we will rejoice.”

“My wife was good. A believer. A wonderful, kind, loving, generous woman. She prayed every day, yet He gave her nothing but pain. Excruciating and agonizing. He took her life, inch by inch. Why?”

“Did she blame God?”

“No. She didn’t blame anyone. She never would.” Keith struggled for words. “Despite everything, all the pain, she was happy. Sad to leave us but happy to go to heaven.” He groaned. “I’m the one who couldn’t handle it. The one who blamed God. Not Marisa. She accepted it. Said she was in God’s hands and He would take care of her.”

“And you don’t think He did?”

Keith finally understood. “I thought that would be on earth with me, but Marisa meant God would take care of her in heaven.”

Luke nodded.

“You lost your wife, Emma’s mother. How did you deal with it?”

“Not very well. On the outside I accepted, rejoiced in the fact she was on her way to be with our Savior. But inside I was angry because God left me here. We’d been married for twenty-four years, and He should have taken us together. We deserved to be together.” Luke tapped his fingers on the desk. “Emma once told me I was pouting. I believe she was right.”

“Could you ever love another woman?”

Luke looked shocked at the question and cleared his throat before he answered. “I’d have said no until...until recently.” He frowned. “But now, I know I can. Life can be very lonely. I have Emma, of course, but she needs her own life and her own happiness.”

Keith saw sadness in Luke’s eyes but pressed on. “If you loved someone else. Married someone else. You both died and went to heaven. Who’d be your wife? Emma’s mother or stepmother?”

Luke ran his hands through his hair. “Neither. In heaven, there is no marriage. Not in the way we think of it here. On earth, marriage protects us from...” He hesitated. “Certain sins. In heaven, there is no sin. No jealousy, no greed, no lust. No...pain.”

The look on his face made Keith think of Emma’s broken engagement. “I would never hurt your daughter.”

Luke nodded slowly. “I believe you would never intend to hurt Emma. However, we are human and imperfect. Life is full of misunderstandings, but it is also full of forgiveness. Emma has a generous and compassionate heart.”

“I’m very fond of her, but she doesn’t...”

Luke held up his hand. “Shh. If you have feelings for Emma, then she should be the one you tell. Understand all I want is her happiness.” He stood and walked around the desk to put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Should there be something between Emma and yourself, then I truly believe Marisa would celebrate. No one wants to sit in the comfort of heaven and watch their loved ones struggle and be alone.”

Keith slumped against the back of the chair. “Marisa and Emma would one day be in heaven without me. I don’t deserve that honor.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve been angry at God. Doubted him. Blamed him. When I succeed, it’s because of my skill and I’ve taken the credit. When I fail, it’s because of God’s spite.” Keith buried his head in his hands. “I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize how wrong I’ve been.” He took a deep breath and raised his head to stare at Luke. “Will He ever forgive me?”

“This I know. He already has.”

Keith stood and shook Luke’s hand. “Thank you.”

“God bless you. When you need to talk again, you know where to find me.”

Keith still didn’t go home. He needed to see Emma. To hold her hand, touch her face, look into the eyes that captured his heart. Tell her how he felt.

He drove to the bookstore and hesitated only a moment before he went in. Jordan waved at him from behind the counter and pointed to a door at the back. A sign proclaimed it as the office. He knocked gently on the half-open door and poked his head inside the room.

Emma sat at the desk, pen in hand, notepad in front of her, and phone at her ear. She smiled and waved and mouthed for him to come in. The sight of her made him want to pick her up in his arms, but he restrained.

She spoke into the phone. “No, two cases if you have them. One red, one green. And a case of the two-inch crystal angels. The assortment. Thank you. You have a great day too.” She hung up the phone and stood. “Keith, what a lovely surprise. Where are the children? Is everything okay? How’s Cora? Sorry. I mean Mrs. Schneider.”

“Yes, everything’s fine. They’re already home, and I’m on my way there. I have to go back to the hospital tonight but wanted to stop by and see you.” He moved to stand within a few inches of her and reached for her hand.

Her beautiful blue eyes widened, and her mouth opened to speak. She looked confused and closed it again as he stared at her. She was precious. Sweet. Loving. Perfect. He couldn’t help it, he kissed her.

The touch of their lips was brief, gentle, and her eyes opened even wider. It thrilled him to watch that pretty pink flush spread across her cheeks. He loved her. Found her irresistible. She didn’t pull back or move her hand but stood and studied him. A smile lit up her face.

No words would come, so he kissed her again, squeezing her hand as he did. To his joy, her fingers tightened in return while her other hand moved up to rest lightly on his upper arm. He could have stood and kissed her all night, but when he squeezed her hand even tighter, she stepped back and exhaled.

“Wow. That was—nice. Thank you. It’s great to see you.”

“I can’t tell you how indebted I am for your help, Emma.” He still held her hand and pressed it to his lips. He needed Emma. “The children adore you, and it’s wonderful to come home when you’re there. I wish you were always there for us.” His next sentence tumbled out without much forethought. “Marry me, please.”

She looked stunned. Her eyes searched his face, but she didn’t answer and seemed to be waiting for him to say something else. Marisa had laughed and thrown her arms around his neck in excitement. Why was Emma hesitating? Didn’t she love him?

“I’ll never hurt you, I promise. You can finish school and be a teacher or anything else. I’ll take care of everything and make sure you’re happy. We need you, Marisa.”

Emma’s face paled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m not Marisa.”

He froze as his brain caught up with his tongue.

Of all things to say. Of all times to say it.

She pulled her hand away from his. “Thank you, Keith. I’m very flattered that you...” She paused as if searching for words. “That you trust me enough to take care of your family.” She blinked several times and took a deep breath. “I’ll be available whenever you and the children need me, but I can’t marry you.”

“Emma, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that.”

Her smile was sad, wistful. “I can.”

He didn’t understand what she meant, but again he was at a loss for words.

“I think it might be best if you leave,” she whispered.

A cold chill filled the air. He turned and left her in the middle of the room.

Alone.

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

8

Keith couldn’t remember a flu season that hit Houston so hard and lasted so long. Since his embarrassing proposal to Emma, he’d avoided any contact with her. A surprisingly happy Mrs. Schneider took Peter and Rebekah to pageant rehearsal and had even taken them to church. Cora Schneider in church. And singing, all day long. He still couldn’t get over it. He wanted to spend more time with Peter and Rebekah, but lately it had been impossible. They seemed to understand. They, too, were happier. Every time they came home, he got to hear all about the time they’d spent with Emma. She still worked little miracles in his children’s lives, even though his stupidity kept her out of his.

The flu took its toll on the nursing staff, and who knew what he’d be doing by the end of the night. Taking temperatures and blood pressure had become part of his normal routine, and he only hoped it wouldn’t lead to changing sheets or emptying bedpans.

The hospital intercom paged him, and he picked up a nearby phone.

“Get to ER,” Vince said. “School bus rollover. They’re arriving in a fleet of ambulances.”

Keith was soon on the elevator and met his colleague in a roomful of panicked and crying children. Nurses separated the injured into groups, and both doctors began preliminary examinations. Things were hectic for an hour, and several youngsters were dispatched for x-rays, but it was mostly bumps and bruises. Thank God.

Keith smiled to himself. Yes, thank God.

Vince looked as tired as Keith felt. “I think we’ve got it under control. You should go back upstairs.” Vince went over to the nurse’s station, and Keith strode toward the elevators.

Wait.

The voice was clear, but there was no one around. He shivered but lingered. Only silence greeted him. He stared at the elevators before walking in the other direction, back to ER and the children, more subdued now the excitement was over and their parents had arrived.

“Dr. Sullivan.”

He turned toward the voice. A girl lay on one of the examination beds, her face so scratched and bruised he didn’t recognize her at first. “Jordan? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was, but now my head hurts.” She burst into tears.

In a moment, he was beside her.

“I feel...sl...sh...ick,” she whispered.

“Jordan, talk to me. Where does your head hurt? Can you raise your arm?”

Her response was unintelligible, and she closed her eyes.

Keith shouted instructions.

ef

“Jordan. Jordan, can you hear me?”

Her face twitched in response, lips moving silently.

“Jordan, it’s Dr. Sullivan. Can you hear me?”

The badly bruised and swollen eyes opened slowly. She blinked and spoke with a voice barely above a whisper. “Hi.”

Keith couldn’t help a sigh of relief. “Okay, honey.” He smiled. “You’re going to be fine. Your mom’s waiting to see you.”

He walked out to the waiting room to see Emma with her arm around Jordan’s mother and Vince talking to them both. Three anxious faces turned toward him.

He smiled and nodded but couldn’t bear to look at Emma and spoke to Mrs. Gonzales. “She’s awake and talking. You can go and sit with her now, but she may be drowsy for a while. Her head is bandaged and her face badly bruised, but it will all heal.”

Mrs. Gonzales gave him a hug and left.

Vince nodded. “Glad you were there to catch that so quickly,” he murmured.

Keith felt Emma’s eyes on him. She was so close, he could reach out and...no. Hands on his hips, he stared at the floor, the elation at his success replaced by despondent fatigue at what he’d lost. What his carelessness had driven away.

She spoke, her voice so low he barely heard it. “Thank you, Keith.”

He forced himself to look at her. She was pale, with dark circles under tired eyes. It’d only been a few hours since Jordan went into surgery. Even if Emma had cried, she shouldn’t look like that. Her cheeks were hollow, pinched, and her eyes dull. Had she had the flu too? Wouldn’t Mrs. Schneider have mentioned something?

Keith couldn’t respond. He’d made a fatal error and there was no going back. Emma would never understand how he felt about her. Seconds crawled past. She looked down at her hands, the floor, Vince, back at Keith. Then she turned and headed toward the exit.

Vince stared after her then frowned at Keith. “You know Miss Chandler?”

Keith nodded. “A little.” Vince looked curious, but Emma was the last person Keith could’ve talked about, even if he’d wanted to. He took a deep breath. “I’m going home.”

ef

Emma tried to sneak in the house and up to her room unnoticed, but her father stopped her in the hallway.

“How’s Jordan?”

“She had surgery. They said she’d be fine.”

“Praise God. I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow. Jayne wants to go with me.”

“Might wait a bit longer. Dr. Chapra said she’d be in for at least a week, but only her mom can see her for the first few days.”

“Dr. Chapra. Did he do the surgery?”

“No.” She took a deep breath and wouldn’t look at him. “Keith.”

“Praise the Lord. Emma, are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?”

She shook her head and stared at the floor. “Nothing happened.”

His hand touched her shoulder. “Sweetheart, I hate to see you miserable. I’m here when you need to talk.”

She took a deep breath and summoned a smile. Her clouds couldn’t affect her father’s joy. “I’m okay, and at least you’re not miserable these days. Happier than you’ve been for years, I should think. Now then, I wonder.” She tapped her finger against her chin and frowned. “Who can we blame for your cheerfulness?”

He blushed. Her father actually blushed. Emma forced away her sadness and grinned at him. “Sir, I must ask. Are your intentions toward my boss entirely honorable?”

The look on his face was priceless, and Emma choked back a giggle at his consternation.

“Would you mind if they weren’t? I don’t know if she’d want me.”

Emma wrapped her arms around his waist and put her head on his chest. She sniffed and smiled. “It must be serious, Dad. You’re wearing cologne.” Stepping back, she grasped his two big, loving hands with her own. “Hurry up and marry her.”

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that?”

“Of course. A little jealous, perhaps, but I’d be happy for you both.”

“Jayne’s very fond of you. It hurts both of us to see something’s bothering you and not be able to help. If you can’t talk to me, why don’t you talk to her?”

She kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine, really. I’m glad you’re happy. Now, don’t keep her waiting any longer.”

Her father left the house, whistling, and Emma wandered up to her bedroom. She sat on the floor with her back against the closed door. From there, she could stare through her window and up at the stars. Dear Lord. Thank You for Jordan’s deliverance, and thank You for making my father happy. She fought the urge to nibble on a nail as she thought of Keith. He’d avoided her, ignored her. He must have realized his mistake in proposing. She’d been stunned to hear his words, Marry me, please. Then overjoyed. She’d waited for him to say he loved her, opened her mouth, ready to accept and happily be his wife. Then she realized Keith wanted Marisa, not Emma.

She returned her mind to her father. She had no doubt he’d soon be announcing his engagement and doubted that stage of their relationship would last long. They’d want to be married as soon as possible. What about...? She stared around her small bedroom. There’d be no room for her. Not with a pair of newlyweds. She could barely afford her own apartment, let alone find transportation. What was she going to do?

Her mother’s words echoed in her head. God will provide. All this going on and only two weeks to Christmas. She’d lost Keith and, in a way, was losing her father.

At least she still had Danny.

ef

“Emma, dear. Could I have a word with you, please?”

Emma put the nativity figures back in the box on the floor and drifted into Jayne’s office.

She hated going in there now and blinked away the tears Keith’s memory brought. She couldn’t escape frequent waves of loneliness and often wished she’d said yes. It was too late, and she’d never get another chance. What did it matter if he didn’t really love her? She loved him enough for both of them and adored his children. Being with them all would have been worth putting up with Marisa’s leftovers, and Danny would have enjoyed spending more time there. She closed the door behind her and sat.

An unusual frown marred Jayne’s face. “You know I’m very fond of you, and I can’t thank you enough for helping me get this place up and running. We’ve been successful, as you know. Sales are up more than I ever dreamt we could do so quickly. I’d like to do something extra to thank you.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Perhaps not, but I want to pay for you to get your teaching certificate. Your father said you only needed a few more credit hours, and you’d be done. What do you think? You could start next semester and be finished by the summer.”

Emma sat in silence. Keith had offered her the same thing, and, for a moment, she felt as if Jayne, too, tried to buy her affection. “That’s very generous of you. But I couldn’t. It’s too much.”

“No, it isn’t. I want us to be friends, Emma. I want to help you. You deserve to be happy, and you should be a teacher.”

Emma couldn’t understand why Jayne looked so nervous, almost upset. There was something in the other woman’s expression that Emma couldn’t understand. She struggled for words. “I wasn’t expecting such generosity, and I’d never be able to pay you back.”

Jayne sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Will you at least think about it? Please?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “You should be on your way home. Have a good evening, dear.”

“Jayne, you seem upset. Is everything okay?”

“I was thinking about someone, that’s all. Wishing I could see them again, just once more. Enough to apologize.” She stared out of the window and didn’t seem to want to say anything else, so Emma left her in peace.

She drove home and arrived along with the pizza delivery boy, not sure who the kids were happier to see. “How’s Jordan doing, Miss Emma?” asked Simone, now the oldest girl and stepping up to her perceived responsibilities.

“She’s much better. I’m going to go and see her in the morning. I’ll give everyone an update tomorrow afternoon.”

Danny stood close by and held her hand. She was glad he still got to see Peter. Cora had picked him up a couple of times so he could go and spend the night. Her visits gave Emma the chance to see both Peter and Rebekah. Danny had asked if Emma would visit too but hadn’t questioned her absence. It was as if he knew something troubled her and wanted her to know he was there to support her.

“As you’re home,” her father said. “I’ll be off to take Jayne to dinner. Goodbye, children.”

Thirty minutes later, there was a loud knock on the front door. Simone went to answer and called back into the kitchen. “Miss Emma, come quickly!”

The sight on her doorstep sent a shiver of fear through her body. Officer Breaux stood beside Mr. Carlisle of Child Protective Services.

Officer Breaux looked distressed. “I’m sorry, Emma. I’m so sorry. Is Danny here?”

“What happened?” she whispered.

“His father has been arrested. Assault with a deadly weapon. A lot of witnesses, and I doubt if there’ll be any bond. We’re here to get Danny. He has to go into foster care.”

“Why can’t he stay with me?” she pleaded.

“I’ll see what I can do, Emma,” Mr. Carlisle said. “You know how much I appreciate what you do for these kids. Everyone in the area would give you a glowing reference. But paperwork is paperwork, and the department’s red tape may never think you financially stable enough to qualify as a foster parent.”

Emma leaned against the doorframe for support. Keith. If she’d agreed to marry Keith, she could’ve taken care of Danny. She wanted to cry, scream. Danny appeared beside her, tears already running down his pale cheeks.

“Danny, I’m sorry.” She held him against her, hoping it wasn’t for the last time.

“I’ll be okay, Miss Emma. Pray for me. I’ll see you again soon.”

Emma tried to hold back her sobs but couldn’t.

Officer Breaux gently pried Danny away from her. “I’m sorry. We have to go.”

Mr. Carlisle squeezed her hand. “I promise I’ll try. But please, don’t get your hopes up. It’s all for the best.”

As they walked away, her legs failed her, and she crumpled to sit on the floor. Simone sat beside her and wrapped her arms around Emma’s shaking shoulders. The other children were soon crowded around too, but Emma couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, and couldn’t think.

Keith. Dad. Danny. Loving arms surrounded her, but emptiness filled Emma’s heart.

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

9

“Dad, thanks for letting me visit Jordan. I got to see Miss Emma too.”

Keith’s fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as they sat in the driveway and waited for the garage door to open. “That’s nice, son.”

“She said you saved Jordan’s life. Did you?”

“She needed an operation, and I took care of it, but if I hadn’t been there, someone else would have done it instead.”

“Maybe. She told me I should be very proud of you.” Peter frowned. “I told her I already was.” He turned to grin at his father. “I really am, Dad. D’you think I could be a doctor too? I’d like to save lives. If not like you then maybe like Grandpa.”

“You can be a doctor or anything else you wish. But realize not everyone is always saved.”

“You mean like Mom? Yeah, I know. Miss Emma told me all we can do is our best. Everything’s in God’s hands, and we have to accept His decisions, no matter how hard.”

Keith sighed and turned off the engine. “Yes, I suppose we must.” They got out of the car and walked into the empty house. Mrs. Schneider had taken Rebekah to her ballet class.

“Miss Emma said you’re a wonderful man. I guess you are. Jordan said it was a pity you and Miss Emma didn’t get married.” Peter chatted on, unaware of the cold hand that stole his father’s breath. “She said someone like her would make a great mom.”

Keith had thought so too. “Really.”

“Yeah. I sure miss Mom, but if I could have another mother then I’d pick someone like Miss Emma. She’s the best. I told Jordan you didn’t have time to see Miss Emma much anymore, and she asked if you two broke up. I told her that was crazy. You weren’t her boyfriend.”

Keith didn’t speak. Could hardly breathe.

“’Cause you didn’t go out on dates or buy her flowers and hold hands or kiss and stuff, right? Not like they do on TV.” He laughed as if the thought was a great joke. “So how could you be her boyfriend? Jordan’s crazy.”

Keith was only slightly aware that Peter ran upstairs. The words hit him again and again as he walked into his study and sat behind the desk. You didn’t go out on dates or buy her flowers and hold hands or kiss and stuff.

He’d held her hand, now and again. And kissed her a time or two. He raised his eyebrows. Stuff? No stuff. He frowned. You didn’t go out on dates or buy her flowers.

No. He’d gone from meeting and admiring her to asking her to marry him in less than a month. He’d even forgotten her name. What an idiot he was. No wonder she refused.

He slid a little lower in his chair as he remembered courting Marisa. He’d been busy but called her every day for years. Whenever he could get time away from the hospital, and wasn’t dead from lack of sleep, he’d taken her out. Somewhere, anywhere. Movies, dinner, walks in the park. And he’d sent her flowers. Lots of flowers. He made sure Marisa knew he was crazy about her and how important she was to him. Even after their marriage, he’d done everything he could to make her feel loved and appreciated.

All he’d done for Emma was ask her to take care of his children. Taken her for granted. Expected her to be there when he needed her. Had she ever needed him? Had he been there for her? She’d never asked him to do anything, but she deserved better treatment. Much better.

He sat in somber silence and reflected on his mistakes as he remembered her sad and tired face. Miss Emma said you are a wonderful man. Was that what she thought of him? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?

Would she give him another chance?

He needed to call and find out.

ef

Emma sat dry-eyed in the dark living room. The kids had all gone, and she couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on the light. She’d been numb since Danny left. She’d forced herself to go and see Jordan that morning, glad it was her day off and she didn’t have to pretend cheeriness to customers. She’d told Jordan about Danny, surprised by the comfort she received from the teenager. They were both happy to see Peter, although Emma left soon after his arrival, not wanting to see his father. She’d asked Jordan to keep the news to herself and not upset Peter or anyone else until they knew for sure Danny wasn’t coming back.

Now she felt drained, exhausted. Hopeless. She still held the phone in her hand. Mr. Carlisle had apologized, but there was nothing he could do. Even worse, she wouldn’t be able to see Danny. A shortage of foster homes in the area meant he was likely to be heading to Dallas in less than a week. For now, he was in a group home. She hoped there wouldn’t be any bullies. Danny’s small stature made him a popular target.

The light snapped on, and her father appeared in front of her, Jayne a little behind him. They held hands and almost glowed with happiness.

Emma stared at the floor, still silent.

“Have you heard from Danny?” her father said.

She shook her head. “He has to go to Dallas.”

“Why don’t you call Keith?” said Jayne. “He might know someone that—”

“I can’t ask Keith for help. I won’t.” Emma battled her emotions and faced the couple with what she hoped was a smile. “How are you?”

Her father exchanged a glance with Jayne before kissing her hand. “Emma,” he said, “we have something to tell you. I think it’s very good news and hope you agree. We’re going to get married.”

They looked so happy, and she was so miserable. She tried to hide her feelings as she stood and gave them each a hug. “Dear Dad, Jayne, that’s wonderful. I wish you all the best.”

Emma wanted to cry, but that would spoil their moment. “I’m going to run to the store,” she said. “Anyone need anything?”

They shook their heads and wandered into the living room. Emma caught a glimpse of them as she left. Jayne sat next to her father on the couch, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her. He held her hand to his lips.

Emma sighed and closed the front door behind her. She didn’t need anything from the store. She didn’t even feel like driving. Perhaps a walk would help. Her cell vibrated and she glanced at the display. “Sorry, Keith,” she whispered. “Your substitute Marisa can’t babysit today.” She turned off the phone.

Head down to hide her tears, Emma walked until a downpour of rain forced her to return. She didn’t want to upset Jayne or her father with her appearance, but she didn’t want to stay out any longer. She stood at the end of the driveway and wished she could get in the house without being noticed.

Frightened, sad, or lonely, there was one place she always could go. She fished a key from her pocket and opened a small door in the back of the church, locking it behind her.

The cold building was dark, save for a few small lamps. She retrieved a couple of blankets from the small nursery at the back of the sanctuary and wrapped them around herself. Emma lit a couple of candles for extra light and then sat in front of the altar to stare at the cross on the wall. She couldn’t pray. No words would come, and any thoughts she tried to put together tumbled around her head in a twisted mass of nonsense.

She should be overjoyed. Thanks to Jayne, Emma’s income had almost doubled, and her father was ecstatically happy. I’m sorry, God. You’ve given me so much, and yet I’m miserable and ungrateful.

Emma shivered and pulled the blankets tighter. She had no idea how long she sat.

Her father’s voice woke her. “Emma. Emma, honey, please wake up.”

She opened her eyes and tried to move, but her clothes were still damp and her stiff joints protested. Her father slid his arms underneath hers. He lifted her up and pulled her against his chest. His voice shook. “Emma. We’ve been so worried.”

Someone was crying, and it wasn’t her. Emma turned her head to see Jayne. A different Jayne. Her hair was a mess, and mascara smudges circled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She reached out and squeezed Emma’s shoulder, still sobbing.

Emma was confused. “What’s wrong?”

Her father’s voice was a little above a whisper. “It’s two o’clock in the morning, and we’ve been searching for hours. You said you were going to the store. I thought you’d been abducted.”

Emma gasped. “What? Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I only needed some time to myself. I didn’t want to ruin your evening. Please forgive me.”

“Emma,” he whispered into her hair. “If I weren’t so relieved to see you, I’d give you a spanking.”

The emotion in his voice betrayed his concern, and it was Emma’s turn to burst into tears.

The three of them plodded back to the house in silence. Jayne stood on tiptoes to kiss Luke. “Good night,” she said with a sniff. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emma’s father ran his fingers across Jayne’s cheek. “Good night, darling. Do you need me to take you home?”

“No. Stay with Emma. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

ef

Keith walked into Jordan’s hospital room, happy to give her the good news. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he flipped through the last few entries on her chart.

“Much better, thank you, Dr. Sullivan.”

“Good. I think you can go home on Saturday.”

Jordan squealed in delight. “Thank you! Mom’ll be so happy. Can I call Miss Emma and tell her too? It might cheer her up that I’ll be in the pageant next week. I’m Mary, so I would be sitting down most of the time, anyway.”

“Why, what’s wrong that she needs cheering up?” And why won’t she return my calls?

Jordan’s face fell. “She’s been so miserable since Danny...” She put her hand over her mouth. “Nothing.”

“Since Danny what?”

She shook her head. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But I hate to see Miss Emma so sad.”

Keith sat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

Her words tumbled out. “Danny got taken away. His dad was put in prison or somewhere, and CPS took Danny off to a foster home. Miss Emma was very upset because they wouldn’t let her look after him. She said she’s going to keep trying to get him back, but it doesn’t look good.”

“When did this happen?”

“On Monday. She told me when she came to see me yesterday.”

Peter would miss Danny, but Emma would be devastated. Keith needed to see her. No, he needed to help her. But how?

He left Jordan’s room and wandered down the hallway, deep in thought. What could be done? Who could he call?

Sam Hamilton, attorney extraordinaire. When Keith removed a tumor from Kristi Hamilton’s brain, her husband told Keith to give him a call if he ever needed anything. He hurried back to his office to find the number.

“Keith! Long time no hear from. What’s up?”

“I need a favor. Or at least, some advice.”

“Anytime, you know that. Shoot.”

“There’s a boy. Ten. In protective custody. He had some issues last time and might be headed for a group home. There’s one person who wants to take care of him, but she doesn’t qualify as a foster parent. Can anything be done?”

Sam was silent for a moment. “Why doesn’t she qualify?”

“I’m not sure. I’d guess because she’s single and doesn’t have a huge income. She’s appealing the decision, but it could take months, and that might be too late for Danny. He got into trouble last time he was in foster care, and who knows where he could end up.”

“Is she a suitable caretaker for this boy?”

“Yes. She’s the best person in the world for him. He loves her and listens to her.”

I love her.

“Are you asking me to help with the appeal or help her be a foster parent?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I’d rather she wasn’t aware of my involvement.”

Sam grunted. “Does the kid have any parents?”

“His mother’s dead. His father’s awaiting trial, but it’ll take months.”

“Let me get a pen and make some notes. I’ll think about this and see what I can come up with.”

ef

Emma unpacked the last box of Christmas decorations and arranged them on the table by the store’s front door. All their Christmas items were going fast, and she knew Jayne was in a quandary. Order more this late in the year and risk getting stuck with them or hope she wasn’t missing out on a great opportunity for additional sales.

Rather her than me.

Only a few days before, Jayne would have asked her opinion, but lately, Jayne seemed distracted. Emma hoped there wasn’t a problem between Jayne and her father. She stretched and glanced at her watch. Almost nine.

Jayne walked over and flipped the sign to Open. “Two more weeks, and then we’ll be dealing with the after-Christmas sales. Can you believe it, dear?”

Emma smiled. She knew it wasn’t much of a smile, but it was the best she could do these days.

“Goodness gracious.” Jayne flung open the door. “I must be seeing things.”

“Miss Emma!”

Emma froze and turned at the sound. No, it couldn’t be.

It was.

Danny burst through the door of the store and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Emma picked him up and swung him around. “Danny, oh, honey, I’ve missed you too. What happened?” She kissed the top of his head and looked behind him to see a smiling Officer Breaux.

“I hope you don’t mind us coming here,” he said. “Danny was too excited to wait until you got home.”

“Of course not, but what’s going on?”

“Danny’s father has assigned you as his legal guardian. If you want the job.”

Emma couldn’t believe it. “Of course I do, but how?”

“That part I don’t know, but you do need to show up at this address to sign and finalize everything.” He gave her a business card. “Go there as soon as you can.”

The officer left, and Emma stood with Danny’s arms wrapped around her. They both cried and laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Jayne wiping her face with a tissue.

Oh, God, I don’t deserve this miracle. Thank You.

ef

Emma handed Danny a plateful of cookies. “Is everything okay?”

He looked sad. “Yes. I don’t miss Dad that bad, but I can’t help thinking about him. I hope that new attorney he’s got can help him get out quicker. Is it okay I don’t miss him too much?”

Emma frowned. “Yes, honey. It’s okay. I know your dad is glad you’re safe and happy, and we’ll write to him again tonight. New attorney? What happened to the old one?”

“Dunno. Dad said this one was better and gave him the paperwork to sign so I could come here. Now, he’s helping Dad.”

“How did your father find this new lawyer?” Emma had a sneaking suspicion she already knew the answer.

“He didn’t. The guy came to see Dad one day and told him he was gonna help.” Danny shrugged. “Dad said he showed up out of the blue.”

Emma only knew one person who might be able to conjure up an attorney like that. She pulled out her cell phone and picked his number. He didn’t answer. She left a polite message asking him to call her.

Her phone was silent.

The next day, Emma called Cora. Keith wasn’t expected home until late, but she promised to leave him a message.

Two days later, she walked into the hospital, wondering what illness she could fake if they wouldn’t let her see him.

“Emma?”

“Dr. Chapra, how nice to see you.” Emma shook his outstretched hand.

“Is everything okay? Are you here to visit someone?”

“No. Well, yes.” Emma gazed earnestly at the kind man. “I was hoping to find Keith. I mean, Dr. Sullivan.”

“Is he expecting you?”

Emma stared at the garage parking stub she still held. “Not really. I called him, but he didn’t call back. I need to tell him something.”

He smiled as if he could read her mind. She wished she hadn’t come.

“Follow me. And hand me that ticket. I’ll get it validated so you don’t have to pay.”

He gave it to a woman sitting at a desk in the lobby. She didn’t look thrilled about it but stamped and initialed the back.

“Page Keith for me,” Dr. Chapra said. “No, never mind. He’s probably in his office. I’ll take her up myself.”

He strode toward the elevators, and Emma hurried to keep up. They were soon at a desk where a nurse stared at them with raised eyebrows.

“Where’s Keith?” Dr. Chapra asked.

“Dr. Sullivan,” she replied primly, “is in his office.”

He gestured toward Emma. “Follow me.”

They walked and made turns down several corridors, and she wondered if she would ever find her way back out. She might have to head for the nearest emergency exit and take the stairs.

Dr. Chapra knocked on the door to Keith’s office, opened it, and stuck his head in the doorway. “Someone to see you.” He winked at Emma. “Good luck.” Whistling, he sauntered back toward the elevators.

Emma took a deep breath and ventured in. Keith stood with his back to her, staring at a couple of what looked like brain scans clipped to a large lit panel.

She cleared her throat, and he turned around. He seemed startled to see her there.

“Emma, what’s wrong? Jordan? Danny?”

She’d forgotten how much she liked to look at him. Or maybe had not let herself remember. He walked toward her, and she held her breath. He stopped several feet away, a question on his face.

“They’re fine,” she whispered. “I wanted to thank you for...” She swallowed nervously. “For Danny.”

Keith’s sigh was evident. “You weren’t supposed to find out I did anything. Who told you?”

“No one.” She couldn’t avoid a smile. “But I had my suspicions, and you just confirmed them.”

“Oh.” A slow grin spread across his face. “So, I’ve been had.”

She nodded and gripped the handles of her purse. “Yes. That’s all I needed. I’ll get out of your way.”

“Emma, wait.” He covered the last few feet between them and stood in front of her. So close she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“Please don’t leave,” he said.

“I...” Words failed her. “But you’re busy.” She pointed to the scans on the wall, and he snapped off the light that illuminated them.

“I can spare a few minutes. How’s Danny doing? Peter was so happy to see him again. How’s your father? Jayne? I know they came to see Jordan, but I missed them.”

She smiled. “Engaged.”

Keith looked surprised and then pleased. “That’s great. Please give them my congratulations.”

Emma nodded.

“I have to thank you too,” he said.

“Me? Why?”

“You said something to Peter about me and about my work. He talks all the time now about how he wants to be a doctor. He said you told him God gave me the skill to save lives, and you’re right. I used to think I did it all by myself, but now I know differently. I’m only His instrument. We have a lot to thank you for, Emma.”

Emma’s control crumbled, and she struggled to speak. “Good. I’m glad.” She took a deep breath. She had to get away from him, couldn’t stand the way she felt about him. “I really must go.”

“Please don’t leave. Not yet. I haven’t asked you how you’re doing. How are you, Emma?”

She burst into tears.

Keith led her to a chair and guided her to sit on it. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He gave her the box of tissues on his desk. “Emma?” He pulled up another chair and sat in front of her.

“I’m s-s-sorry.” She blew her nose and sniffed. “I guess I’m just tired. Now that Danny’s back, I’m fine, really.”

“You’re not sick, are you?” He put two fingers under her chin and examined her face.

“No.” She wished she were if it would be him taking care of her.

He picked up her hand and rubbed her fingers with his. “I’ve missed you.”

Not enough to take off your ring. She stared at it, temple throbbing, and felt her eyes fill up with more tears.

“Emma, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or ruin our friendship. Can you ever forgive me for the stupid things I said?”

“What stupid things?”

“Telling you I loved you. Asking you to marry me.”

Her voice stuck at a whisper. “You didn’t tell me you loved me.”

He looked confused. “I didn’t? But I thought I...Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Do you love me, Keith? Do you? She couldn’t answer.

His fingers slipped from hers, and he stood. “I should finish looking at those scans. Take care of yourself, Emma.”

She stood beside him. “Keith.”

He looked sad, lonely. “Yes?”

The right words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t tell him how she felt, but she had to tell him something. “When I was engaged, my fiancé started seeing someone else. He still wanted to get married even though he admitted a good part of him was in love with her.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Her words tumbled out. “I wouldn’t marry him because he loved someone else. I could never”—she hesitated—“marry anyone who loved someone else. I would want them to love me. Only me.”

She could tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t understand. She’d failed. And was ten seconds away from a total breakdown. “I’ll get back to work and let you get on with yours, Keith. Thanks again for what you did for Danny. And for me. I can never repay you.” She couldn’t look at him anymore. “Goodbye.” She walked out without a backward glance, closing the door behind her.

ef

Keith stared at the paneled wood between them. She was here. Now gone. Not even a minute, and he missed her intensely. Why did he let her go? Why did he tell her he was busy? It could have waited. What was the point? She’d made her feelings clear. Hadn’t she?

He sank into the chair behind his desk, the soft leather settling beneath him. Emma. I love you. He’d never told her? Peter’s words rang around his head, as they did frequently. You didn’t go out on dates or buy her flowers.

Her words floated back. I couldn’t marry anyone who loved someone else. The statement circled nonsensically around his thoughts. What did she mean? She had been engaged to someone who didn’t really love her. That was a pity, but what did any of it have to do with him? And why had she told Keith she was over that relationship if she wasn’t?

The glimmer of gold caught his attention as her words fell into place. Marisa. He still loved his wife. Was that what Emma meant? She couldn’t marry him because of Marisa? How could he stop loving the mother of his children? He could love Emma and not betray Marisa’s memory, but he couldn’t stop loving Marisa all together. She might be dead, but she hadn’t ceased to exist.

You didn’t tell me you loved me.

He wasn’t being fair to Emma. She deserved someone who loved only her. Who had time for only her. The early years, especially, had been hard on Marisa. She’d called him a part-time husband. Told him he cared more about his patients and the hospital than his wife. It took years for her to realize everything he did was for her and their family.

It wasn’t until after Rebekah was born that she understood. Their marriage flourished until she got sick. But he often felt he’d robbed Marisa of what she needed. Time with him.

Emma must believe Marisa would come between them, as Marisa once believed his career interfered. There was no easy answer. He fingered his ring. He couldn’t put Emma through it. Wouldn’t expect her to be happy with second place. She deserved more.

He stared at the scan, but it no longer made any sense. He needed to think. The numbers on the digital clock in front of him rearranged to show it was six. He should go home. See his children. Relax. Wonder what to do next. Get on with his life.

Without Emma.

ef

“Emma, dear, what is it? Why are you so miserable?”

“I’m sorry, Jayne. I just don’t feel well.” Emma turned her head so the older woman couldn’t see her red eyes and damp cheeks. Keith was out of her life, for good this time. Danny was back, but there was still a huge hole in her heart. Why couldn’t she accept Keith as he was? Wasn’t second place in his life better than no place at all? She knew he hadn’t understood what she’d tried to say. She should have told him she loved him in return, but instead she had walked away. Misery overwhelmed her. Again.

“I’m so sorry, Emma, darling.” Jayne’s voice caught as she spoke. “I really am. I have to go out for a while, but I’ll be back before close.”

Emma nodded her head and didn’t look at Jayne. She hoped Mrs. Perkins could handle the cash register alone while Emma composed herself.

Closing time came and went. Mrs. Perkins went home, but a concerned Emma stayed and waited for Jayne. She’d walked out without her coat, without her cell phone, without her purse. Only her car keys. Emma hoped she was all right. Just as well Emma drove herself to work that day and Danny was spending the night with Peter. She didn’t have to rush anywhere.

Staring through the glass door, she saw the headlights of a car. To her relief, Jayne got out and hurried to the store. Emma opened the door to let her in and stared at the other woman’s appearance. Lines of makeup smeared her face. Her eyes were red, wet. She’d been crying. But why?

“Jayne! Whatever is the matter? What happened?”

Jayne held her hand up. “Emma, please go home. I love you dearly, but right now, I can’t talk to you. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I’m sorry. Just go home.”

Emma picked up her purse to leave, but the voice nagged at her. Stay. See what’s wrong.

“I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Please. I need some time to think.”

Emma grabbed her arm, but Jayne pulled away. Her voice was sharp. “Emma, leave me alone. Now. I mean it.”

Emma sighed and went home. Maybe her father knew what was wrong.

He sat in the kitchen, staring at the wall. He looked shocked. Dejected. Broken. She hadn’t seen him look like that since her mother died. What happened?

“Dad? Dad, what’s wrong?”

He stretched his fisted hand toward her and opened his fingers. A ring lay on his palm. Jayne’s engagement ring.

Emma’s hand flew to her mouth. “Why?”

One word broke what was left of her heart. “You.”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

10

Emma ran. Out through the door, into the car. She drove back to the store as quickly as she dared, hoping Jayne would still be there.

The Suburban was pulling out of the parking lot, and Emma followed it. She had an idea where Jayne lived but had never been there, so she followed her carefully through the streets.

Both vehicles stopped in front of a small group of pretty townhouses. As Jayne put a key in the lock to open the front door, Emma ran up behind her. “Jayne!”

Jayne gasped and turned around. “What! Oh, Emma. What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Jayne slumped against the door. “Please. Not tonight. I’m too tired.”

“I’m not leaving until I find out what happened.”

“Fine. Have it your way. Come in.” She opened the door.

The small home was sparsely furnished, and several boxes were stacked in the corner, a package of bubble wrap beside them. Jayne kicked off her heeled shoes and slid on a pair of fluffy green slippers that lay by the door. Her voice trembled. “Well? What is it you must know?”

Jayne was always strong. In control. Decisive. But now she was weak, broken, and crumpled. And Emma didn’t know why.

“Dad said you gave him back his ring. And that it was my fault.”

Tears streamed down Jayne’s face. “Because of you, but not your fault. I’ve made you miserable. You don’t speak, don’t smile, hardly eat. Luke said you were going to move out, and I know it’s all because of me, because I’m taking him away from you. I’m not going to come between you and your father. If he marries me, you’ll be unhappy. I’m not going to do that again.”

She walked across the room to a photograph on the wall and rested her fingertips on it. “I’m so lonely,” she whispered. “I hate to be alone, but that isn’t why I wanted to marry your father. I love him. I really do. Almost since the first time I saw him. Heard him speak. He’s like Jason in so many ways. Kind, loving, funny. A wonderful man. I adore him, but I love you too.”

Emma walked over and stood next to her. “You’re wrong. I want you to marry my father. You make him happy, and I love you both. What do you mean by saying you aren’t going to do that again?”

Jayne’s hand slid from the photograph, and she sat on the cream leather couch, patting the cushion beside her for Emma to sit.

“Jason had, has, a son. William. He resented his father remarrying after his mother died. He hated me and came to our wedding only to tell my husband he would never see him again.” Jayne pulled a tissue out of a box on the coffee table and blew her nose. “Till the day he died, my husband waited for his son to come home. But he never did. We never knew what happened to him, where he went. Our marriage was wonderful, but there was always a shadow. William’s shadow. Even now, I pray I’ll one day find out what happened to him.”

She took Emma’s hand. “Your father went crazy that night we couldn’t find you. He was sure you’d been hit by a car or attacked by someone. We were so relieved when we found you in the church. He couldn’t understand why you hadn’t gone to him, but I did. I’ve come between you. Even Danny coming back didn’t cheer you up for long. You’ve been worrying your father and worrying me.”

Jayne blew her nose again. “So I said I couldn’t marry him. I would not make him choose between the two women he loved. I chose for him. It was my fault William left. I told him not to expect his father to pick between us because I would win. I would always win. I can’t let that happen again.”

Emma couldn’t keep the anguish from her voice. “No! Please don’t say that. Dad needs you,” she whispered. “He loves you. You’ve made him happy. I’m so sorry I haven’t been myself, but it’s not you. It’s not. Please don’t say it’s too late. I couldn’t bear it to be too late for you too.” She dropped her head to Jayne’s shoulder. “Please marry my father and make him happy. I want you both to be happy.”

Gentle hands stroked her hair. “Sshh. What about you?”

Emma reached for a tissue. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll have Danny.”

Jayne cupped her hand under Emma’s chin to raise her head. “If it’s not me, then what is troubling you?”

Emma grabbed a whole handful of tissues as tears poured down her cheeks. “Keith proposed to me,” she sobbed.

“What? But then why are you miserable instead of engaged?”

“He called me Marisa. He asked me to marry him and then called me by her name!” Emma buried her head in her hands and bawled.

“Wait a minute. That’s it? That’s all?”

“That’s all? How can he ever love me when all he thinks about is her?”

She felt Jayne get off the couch and soon heard the sound of a faucet. A glass of water and a wet washcloth were placed in Emma’s hands, and she looked up to see Jayne smiling at her.

“Honey, Jason called me Sandy all the time, and I’m sure there will be a day when your father calls me Laura. That doesn’t mean they don’t love me. Only that they are as happy and comfortable with me as they were with their first wives. If we remind them of someone they loved very much, then that’s a good thing.”

Emma wasn’t quite sure she accepted that. She blew her nose and added another tissue to the small mountain on her lap.

“A part of me will always love Jason, as your father will always love your mother,” Jayne said. She sat back on the couch and curled her feet underneath her. “I can live with that, but I understand if you can’t. If you need to be with someone who has never loved anyone before, who will only ever love you, then wait for that person. But if you love Keith, and he seems very fond of you, then what are you waiting for? Nothing is perfect, not here on earth. If God has given you a chance to be happy, then don’t you think you should take it?”

Emma punched her fists against her thighs. “It’s too late. I’m sure he’s over me by now. I told him I couldn’t love someone that loved someone else. Not that he understood what I was talking about. All he wanted was for me to leave so he could get back to work.”

“Or perhaps because he couldn’t bear you to be there and not feel the same way he does.”

“I don’t know, Jayne. I love Keith so much. It’s scary. I want, desperately, to run to him and tell him how much I love him. But I don’t know if I can live in Marisa’s shadow. There’s not even any room in the closet for my clothes because all of hers are still there. I’d have to leave mine in a cardboard box in the corner.”

Jayne giggled at her last comment. Emma took a sip of water before she began to giggle too.

“I suppose they wouldn’t fit you?” Jayne burst out laughing.

“Well, I wish some of them would, they’re beautiful. But no, I’m too fat. It’s one thing to take on another woman’s husband and children, but getting her clothes as well would be too much.”

Jayne laughed until she coughed. “You’re crazy. And definitely not fat.”

“Dear Jayne, I do love you. I always wanted my mother to come back so I’d have someone to talk to, and now God’s given me you instead.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you could ever say to me. Thank you, Emma. Those words mean a lot.” Jayne’s eyes widened. “Oh no!”

Emma’s pulse raced in alarm. “What?”

“You can’t marry Keith. If I married your father, and you married Keith, then I’d be a grandmother. I’m far too young to be a grandmother.”

Emma blew out a sigh of relief. “I love those kids almost as much as I love their father. As much as I love Danny. And...” She felt her face flush. “I’d want more children of my own and love them all. I guess it would be okay if Keith could love me as he loved—loves—Marisa. But what if he always loves her more?”

Jayne squeezed her hand. “It may take time, but I know he would love you as much and probably more in different ways.”

“If I didn’t put him off already.”

“If he loves you, he’ll keep trying.”

“He said he loves, or loved, me. I thought Adam loved me. But he didn’t. How do I know if Keith does or if I’m simply convenient because his kids like me?”

“I can’t help you with that. You’ll have to trust your instincts and listen to your heart. How long were you engaged to Adam?”

“Eight months, although we were mostly apart for six of them. Then we broke up.”

“Don’t be angry, but your father told me about him. That he was with someone else, and she was pregnant.”

Emma twisted her tissue into pieces and nodded.

“Did you sleep with him?”

Emma stared in surprise at the unexpected question. “Of course not. No one else, either. What do you think I am? Adam tried to tell me that was the problem, why he turned to Claire, but I wouldn’t take that as an excuse. Please don’t tell me you think Keith would feel the same way.”

“No. A man like Keith would wait forever.” Jayne smiled. “But, when the time comes, if you have any questions, need any advice, then come to me.”

Emma felt her face grow hotter than ever before. “First, he has to ask me to marry him. Or ask me again.”

“Speaking of getting married, your father. Maybe we should go and put him out of his misery.”

Fifteen minutes later, Emma tiptoed into her father’s house to find him asleep in the recliner. Jayne’s ring was on the coffee table. She picked it up. Her mother’s stone and setting, but on a new band. He said Jayne didn’t mind. Not that her father could afford much else, and he wasn’t about to let Jayne pay for a brand new one.

She kissed the ring and gently shook his shoulder. “Dad.”

His eyes opened. Remembrance clouded his face, and he groaned.

She touched his lips with her finger. “There’s someone here to see you.” She gave him the ring. “You’re gonna need this.”

He stared at her, questioning.

She kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

He stood and hugged her. “Emma, are you sure?”

“I am. She’s in the kitchen. Hurry up, Dad, before she changes her mind.”

He disappeared, and she went upstairs to kneel beside her bed.

Dear God. Thank You for sending us Jayne and making my father happy. I hope You see fit to make me happy too. If it’s Your will, then please give me another chance with Keith and don’t let me blow it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

ef

“Did you get everything sorted out with Emma yesterday?”

Keith shot Vince a suspicious glance. They were in the park next door to the hospital, and he’d thought his mentor needed company on an early morning run, not time alone for a cross-examination. “What d’you mean?”

“She mentioned you hadn’t returned her calls, and she was determined to talk to you.” Vince slowed to a walk and took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m getting too old to keep up with you.”

“She wanted to thank me for something. That’s all.”

“Really?” He could tell from the tone of voice that Vince didn’t buy that.

“It’s complicated.”

“Right. Amazing how a simple pump with two inlets and two outlets can cause so much trouble to mankind.”

Keith frowned, not understanding.

“Heart trouble. I recognize the symptoms, but I don’t think a cardiologist can help you two out. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. You love her. She loves you. But you’re not together. What happened?”

“I asked her to marry me.”

“What? Now, I’m confused. She turned you down. Why?”

“I called her Marisa.”

Vince let out a slow whistle. “I see. When was this?”

“Last week.”

“Are you going to try again?”

Keith shook his head. “I can’t. Not after that. Her answer would be the same, and maybe it’s better this way.”

Vince’s blue eyes bored into Keith’s. “I know you loved Marisa. We all did. But don’t you think it’s time you said goodbye?” He stepped away from Keith and ran toward the hospital.

Keith stared after him. What was that supposed to mean? He’d said goodbye to Marisa when she died. Again when they buried her. He whispered a fond farewell every time he visited her grave. How many more times was he supposed to say it?

The answer hit him as he jogged after Vince.

Once.

ef

Beloved Wife.

Keith pulled out the few new weeds and stared at the headstone. “Yes, Marisa,” he whispered. “I loved you. I still love you. But you’re not here anymore, and God has put someone else in my life. You’d approve of Emma. She’s so much like you. Fun, loving, warm, and generous. She’s good to the kids, and they adore her. They need her. I need her.”

He rearranged mulch around the base of the poinsettia he’d planted and rubbed his fingers together to brush the dirt off them. “I’ll always take care of you. Plant flowers here. Keep it beautiful and make sure our children never forget you.” He sat on the small bench beside her grave and propped his elbows on his knees. Resting his head on his hands, he closed his eyes and remembered his wife. It usually depressed him, but today he felt peace.

He stood and pressed his fingers to his lips then touched her etched name. “Goodbye, my darling.”

As he wandered away, he took off his ring and put it in his pocket.

He barely remembered the drive home, but when he entered the empty house there was a note attached to the banister. Everyone was out visiting Emma and Danny and would be back by six. Less than thirty minutes. He shook his head, once more unable to believe the change in Cora Schneider. In his family.

He walked into his bedroom and stopped in front of a door he hadn’t touched for a very long time. His fingers hesitated on the knob before he turned it and swung the door open.

What am I going to do with all this? And why didn’t I do it a long time ago?

He stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed by the task in front of him. He was tempted to do what he’d done so many times before: close the door and leave everything as it was. Ignore it. But this time, he couldn’t. Had Emma seen this? She must have. No wonder she didn’t want to marry him. Who’d want to live in a house like this, surrounded by another woman’s possessions?

Where do I begin?

He heard the front door open and the scampering of footsteps followed by Peter’s voice. “Dad? Where are you?”

“In the bedroom.”

Peter ran in and hugged him. Rebekah followed and scrambled up behind Keith to jump on the bed. She bounced three times before remembering to take off her shoes.

Peter peered into the closet. “Whatcha doing?”

How do I tell you my plans for your mother’s belongings?

Peter pointed and a shadow of sadness flitted across his face. “That was Mom’s favorite dress. Dad, shouldn’t you get rid of this stuff? Give it away or something. Mom’s not coming back.”

Keith blinked. “Um, yes. I thought the same thing. But I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Why don’t you ask Jayne? She said something about collecting for a charity. Maybe Miss Emma would like a few things. Danny was thrilled when I gave him some of my clothes. He’s older than me but smaller, and they didn’t fit me anymore. I hope that was okay.”

Keith cleared his throat. “That’s great, son. I don’t mind you giving things to Danny, but I don’t think Emma would want any of this.”

“Are you sure? Danny said she doesn’t have many clothes because she gives everything away to Jordan and the other girls. Will this stuff fit her? What size is she? We can check the labels.”

Keith couldn’t take any more. “I’ll call Jayne, I mean Mrs. Duncan, and see what she thinks. How about some supper?” He scooped Rebekah off the bed and kissed her before tickling her ribs and making her giggle.

Peter closed the closet door. “Dad, I want to play basketball. Danny said the team at the YMCA would let us in ’cause they’re short of players. Can I? Danny wants to play, too, but has to wait and see how much it’ll cost. Can I pay for him? I never spend my allowance, so I have plenty.”

They walked in to the kitchen. “Can I, Dad?”

“Of course, if Mrs. Schneider doesn’t mind taking you to practice. I’ll pay for Danny. It’ll be more fun for you if he’s there. It’s good of you to offer, though.”

Mrs. Schneider unpacked the Boston Market containers she’d brought home for supper, and everyone filled their plates.

“Dad’s getting rid of Mom’s stuff,” Peter said between mouthfuls.

Keith gasped, choked, and coughed. Not the way he’d planned to break the news.

She stared at him with her mouth open and fork poised in midair. “About time,” she murmured.

“Can I have her shoes?” Rebekah said.

Keith put down his utensils and pushed away his plate. “Sure, honey. You can have whatever you want.”

Peter continued to be helpful. “I told him to give it to Jayne for her charity collection.”

“Mrs. Duncan,” Keith reminded.

“No,” Mrs. Schneider said. “She won’t let them call her anything but Jayne.”

Peter giggled. “She told Danny he had to call her Jayne even after she married Pastor Luke. ’Cause if he’s living with Miss Emma, then she’s kind of his mom. And that would make Jayne his grandmother. She said she was too young to be anyone’s grandma.” He glanced at Keith. “I wish...never mind.” He stuck another forkful of food in his mouth, thoughtful eyes staring into space.

Keith knew what he was going to say. I wish Miss Emma could be my mom.

Their housekeeper took an extraordinary amount of time to spread butter on a piece of bread, giving it her full concentration. “Yes,” she said. “You should call Jayne. She’s very excited about raising funds for the county youth home and would be thrilled to get donations from you. Is everyone finished with the mashed potatoes?”

If Jayne was surprised by his call, he couldn’t tell. She told him she’d be glad to come over and pick up the clothes the next day. He had a couple of morning appointments and agreed to meet her after lunch.

Before he went to bed, he took his wedding ring out of his pocket and put it in the wooden valet on top of his dresser. Beside the rings he’d bought for Marisa. He ran his fingers across them, remembering his wedding day. He’d save the jewelry for the children. The rings could be turned into something, perhaps a diamond pendant for Rebekah. With a sad sigh, he closed the lid. Could he do it? Get rid of everything? Let go of the past? Suddenly, he wasn’t sure.

He paced the bedroom floor, staring at the pictures of Marisa and thinking of Emma. He needed to see her but couldn’t go over there now. It was almost ten o’clock. Maybe if he could talk to her. Hear her voice. Apologize for letting her leave. Apologize for everything. Start over.

He picked up his phone and held down the five to speed-dial her cell.

She answered on the first ring. “Keith? Is everything okay?”

“Hi.” Words left him.

“Is someone ill? Do you need me to come over?”

After everything, she’d still do that. He sat on the bench at the bottom of the bed. “We’re fine.” A flash of inspiration hit him. “Is everything ready for the pageant on Sunday? Do you need me to get anything?”

“No, I think we’re good. To be honest, Jayne has about taken over the whole thing. I don’t mind though, she’s a good organizer, and they all love her. And the pizza she provides.” He heard her yawn. “Sorry. I’m not really as tired as I might sound.”

“It’s late. I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Don’t ever say that. I’m glad you did. Thanks so much for getting Danny in basketball. Peter called and told him you took care of it. They won’t play again until after Christmas, but he’s really excited.”

“It’s great Peter wants to play now. They’re good for each other.”

“Yes, I guess they are.”

You’re good for me, Emma. I love you. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yes, until four or whenever Jayne gets done with whatever appointment she has. I think it might be for her dress. She didn’t really tell me though.”

“What about Friday?”

“The same, probably. Jayne’s hired more two more kids from high school, and they do the evenings. Why, do you need something?”

Only you. “If Danny’s coming over, I thought maybe you could come too. If you’re not busy.” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to see you.”

Was that a giggle he heard? “Thanks, Keith. I’d love to. It will be nice to see you too.”

She yawned again, and he grinned. “You’re tired. Good night, Emma.”

“Good night, Keith. Thanks for calling.”

He hung up and looked around the room, motivated to make changes. He had until Friday.

ef

Jayne looked stunned as she explored Keith’s home the next day. “Well,” she murmured. “This explains a lot.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Emma said...” She waved her hand around the room. “Never mind. Now, where are the clothes you mentioned?”

He led her to the bedroom, opened the closet door, and stood back.

Jayne entered the closet and skimmed her hands across the clothes. “Oh my. I wish these would fit me.” She grinned at Keith. “Your wife was tiny.”

“Yeah, she was. Hated it because everyone thought she was a kid a long time after we were married.” He smiled. He’d never been able to talk about Marisa before without it tearing him up. Now, he could remember her and be happy. He didn’t have to let go of his memories, only the sadness.

“Most of this is too good for the garage sale I told Peter about. I can get more if I sell them separately. Is that okay?”

He nodded.

“Now, what else?”

“That’s it for the clothes.” He hesitated. “Jayne, can I ask your advice?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Of course. But be warned, I’ll give you my honest opinion.”

He gestured around the room. “I have all of this. Trinkets. Books. Pictures. So much stuff. I don’t know what to do with everything.”

“Why do you need to do something with it?”

He sighed. “Emma thinks I only have room for Marisa in my life. I need to prove that’s not the case.”

She cocked her head and smiled at him. “Good. Now, let’s see. Photographs. We could empty most of the frames and put everything in an album for the children later. Perhaps get them copied to a DVD first. Then donate the frames, and I’ll sell them. Not everything, save some for the children’s rooms. They need to remember their mother. Same thing for everything else. Store some, give some away, save some for your kids.” She did a three-sixty, taking in the bedroom. “Have you changed anything in here since Marisa died?”

“No. Mrs. Schneider wanted me to redecorate, but I didn’t see the need. Why?”

“I have to agree with Cora. Redecorate.” She trailed her fingers across the bed. “Paint. New furniture. Sheets, pillows, blankets. Everything.”

“What? Why?” The woman was crazy.

She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. “I’ll be blunt, Keith. This is Marisa’s room, not yours. Unless you make some changes, it will never be anyone else’s.”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

11

Keith ran his hand through his hair in puzzlement. “I’ve been the only one in here for over two years, Jayne. What are you talking about?”

She sighed. “I’m making Luke do the same thing. I’ve hired decorators and bought new furniture. I told him if he thinks I’m moving into his wife’s bedroom, then he could forget it. When I’m his wife, I want it to be our bedroom, our sanctuary. With all traces of her erased. Anything she bought, chose, or slept on, gone. She can be in the rest of the house, but not there.” Jayne uncrossed her arms and rubbed her hands over her face. “It may sound silly, petty, but that’s how it has to be. Sweet and generous soul that I am, I can only take so much Laura in my life. I wouldn’t expect Luke to put up with Jason’s belongings all over the place.”

Keith nodded. “I never thought about it that way. To me, it’s just a room. Marisa was here, but that was a long time ago.” He scanned the room and saw Marisa in every corner. “I think I understand what you mean. And perhaps how Emma feels. Thanks.” He grinned at her. “Paint? What color?”

Jayne sat on the edge of the bed and propped her arms behind her. “My room will be various shades of emerald, sage, mint, and avocado. I love green. But—” She shrugged. “For you, I guess it would depend on the preferences of whoever you plan to bring in here.”

It took a lot to embarrass Keith, but the grin on her face brought flames to his.

“How about,” she said, “I make some inquiries and give you a few suggestions? And, should you need it done quickly, I have a couple of phone numbers. Pricey, but good.”

“I’ve invited Emma over on Friday,” he said without thinking. “But not in here,” he added hurriedly.

Jayne laughed. “Don’t worry. I trust you to be a gentleman with my future daughter. And Emma will be very pleased at whatever changes you make.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“I love her. But I’m not sure how she feels about me.”

“When she believes you love her, you’ll know.” Jayne walked toward the door. “Show me the rest of the house again. I know for sure we need to do something about that living room.”

ef

“Daddy, is my room going to get painted too?”

“Why, Bekah? Do you want it painted?”

She shook her head. “No. I like my room. And I don’t want a new bed, neither.”

“Thanks for my new beds, Dad. It was hard talking to Danny in bunk beds.”

Keith ruffled Peter’s hair. “No problem, son. Is he still coming over tomorrow?”

“Yeah. He said Miss Emma was coming too. That’ll be fun. Can we watch a movie or something?”

“Why don’t we see what Emma wants to do or at least let her pick the movie?”

“Okay, Dad. That’s a good idea. She never gets to choose anything.”

Keith grimaced. He’d been hoping she’d pick the color of his walls, but Jayne hadn’t called with any information. Right now, the painters were doing the living room in something called Aspen Mist. He thought the blue-green looked much the same as before, but Jayne assured him this particular shade had a more subtle blue hue that would reflect the morning sun. He wasn’t about to argue with her.

A picture of a lighthouse would hang where Marisa’s portrait had been. After much family discussion, that now presided over the game room. The white kitchen would be overhauled with some shade of blue-gray Jayne had decided would match the stainless steel appliances.

To his surprise, Mrs. Schneider had agreed wholeheartedly to everything. He’d left them to it.

He hadn’t been doing the work, but Keith was exhausted. And sure it was only a matter of time before one of the children put their hands on the wet paint or stepped in a full paint tray.

He hoped Emma would understand the changes. He prayed she would like them.

ef

“What do you think, dear?” Jayne said, handing Emma the color chips. “I like this one.”

“Yes, me too. Not that I’d ever have a green bedroom, but that’s a pretty shade.”

“Really? What color would you have?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I like the ice blue I have now, although sometimes I wish I’d added a bit more contrast. Not that it’ll matter.”

“What do you mean?”

Emma took a deep breath. “I know you’ve both insisted we stay, but I’m going to look for somewhere Danny and I can live. When you get married, you’ll need time alone, and I’ll feel awkward.” She shrugged. “With the extra money you’re paying me now, I can afford a small apartment.”

Jayne ran her fingers down the color selections without comment until she reached a pale blue. “Okay, then, sweetheart. If you must move out, we’ll find paint for your apartment. How about this one?”

“No, a little lighter. This one.” She read the color. “Bliss Blue.”

“Nice and peaceful. How about this navy for contrast, perhaps one wall?”

“What a good idea. I’ll take these home and save them. Thanks, Jayne.”

Jayne looked as if she hid a great secret and was about to burst. Or maybe the bursting was because she’d soon be married. Whatever it was, she kept it to herself as they stood in line to get the paint mixed.

“Emma. I’d like you to reconsider something.”

“What?”

“Going back to school and completing your teaching certification. There’s still time for you to enroll. Classes begin in early January. Please, Emma. Think about it.”

“I have thought about it, Jayne, a lot. It was wonderful of you to offer and foolish of me to refuse. I’d love to go. But I’ll pay you back, eventually.”

There was that look again. Jayne grinned. “Okay. It’s a deal. Could you wait for the paint, please? I need to make a quick phone call.”

ef

Emma picked up the car keys and told Danny to hurry so they could leave. She couldn’t believe how desperately she wanted to see Keith. He’d called her again the night before, late. He’d sounded tired but refused to get off the phone and talked to her for thirty minutes. They’d discussed the children, Jordan’s amazing recovery, the upcoming pageant, even the weather. She loved to hear his voice but couldn’t wait to see his smile.

“Do I still get to spend the night at Peter’s if you’re coming?”

“Of course. I’ll stay until ten. I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow unless Mrs. Schneider brings you home first.”

They arrived at the house, and Emma held her breath. Christmas decorations adorned the lawn, and lights outlined the eaves and bushes. The professionally decorated tree twinkled through the window. The whole picture was beautiful and lacked only one thing. Snow.

Like we’re going to get snow here.

Keith opened the door, and the odor of fresh paint hit Emma. “You’ve been decorating?”

“A little. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”

Emma held up a box. “Jayne sent over a gingerbread house for us to make. Want to do that first?”

They trooped into the kitchen, and she gasped in delight. “Oh, Keith, it’s beautiful. Who picked the color?”

“Not me,” he muttered. “But I’m glad you like it. I had, um, someone over here to give me some ideas.”

“Really? Wow. You’ll have to tell me who it is so I can introduce them to Jayne. She loves that sort of thing. She’s going to redo Dad’s entire house.”

He looked nervous. “Sure.”

Everyone helped unpack the contents of the box, and Emma gasped as she noticed the fingers of his left hand. Bare. A slight indentation and a strip of lighter skin was all she could see. He’d done it. He’d taken off the ring. Heart pounding, she tried to control her emotions. Maybe he’d left it by the sink. Maybe he’d taken it off for something else and forgotten to put it back.

“Everything all right?” he said as she concentrated on the small packages.

She tried to recover. “Blue frosting. Where’s the blue frosting?”

Rebekah waved it in front of her face. “Right here. You just gave it to me.”

“Oh, yes, sorry.” Emma tried to focus on the instructions, but she couldn’t resist taking another peek to make sure. Her eyes slid from his hand to his face, and her face flashed hot with embarrassment as she realized he was watching her.

He smiled. “Which bits of the house do we put together first?”

Thirty noisy minutes later, Emma stared at their creation. Only a little lopsided and the effort well worth the amount of fun it had given them. Keith stayed for the duration of the project, helping hand over the various decorations and colors. He seemed to enjoy the activity as much as everyone else did.

The kids scampered upstairs, and Emma wiped the last of the mess off the countertops while Keith put the gingerbread house in the refrigerator. They hoped that would stop the gentle slide of frosting down one side of the roof.

She washed her hands in the sink and turned around to find him standing right in front of her. Once more, he looked on edge, nervous, or upset. She couldn’t help wondering if one of his patients had problems. He’d told her they stayed on his mind and weren’t something he could leave at the hospital and pick up the next day. She understood and loved that he cared about them so much.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this,” he said.

She didn’t know if she should smile or frown. “What?”

“My parents are arriving tomorrow and staying through Christmas. They want to see the pageant.”

“That’s great. The kids will love them being here. Why the sad face?”

“Because they also want to meet you.”

Emma crinkled up her nose. “Is that bad?”

“I hope not. I know they’ll like you, but I want you to like them.”

“I’m sure I will. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I know you’ll try, but—” He sighed. “I’ll still be nervous. My father is a retired pediatrician and worked with Vince a couple of decades ago, as well as with Jan, my nurse. I’ve invited them over here on Saturday night. The dining room will be getting a workout for a change.” He hesitated. “Can you come?”

Just when she thought they were getting somewhere. “Of course I can. What time do you need me to be here?”

He looked surprised at her cool tone of voice. “Maybe seven?”

“Not a problem. Jayne has some craft kits to make angels and snowmen. I’ll bring a few. Is it okay if Danny comes too? I’ll make sure they’re all quiet. If the television gets too loud we can do a jigsaw.”

He frowned at her. “Um, I don’t think...”

“Wait,” she said. “I’ve a better idea. Why don’t they all come over to Dad’s house? That way we’ll be out of everyone’s way.”

“Em—”

“No, really. It’ll be fine. I can get off work early and pick them up at five.” Say hello to your parents and disappear, out of the way.

“Emma, no, that’s not—”

She was going to cry and couldn’t look at him. Back to being the babysitter. For a moment, she’d thought...imagined...never mind. She brushed it away. “I can take them to Sunday school the next morning, and you can pick them up whenever it’s convenient.”

He put his fingers under her chin and pulled her head up to look at him. “Emma, please stop. I’m not asking you to take care of the children.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What then? You want me to cook? Or clean up?”

“Stop it. I want you to be here as my guest.”

“What?”

His fingers pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “My guest. No cooking, cleaning, or babysitting. Simply sitting, eating, and meeting other people that are important to me. Not much of a first date, sorry. Maybe we can do that next weekend.”

Did he say date? “Oh. But I don’t have—”

“Anything to wear? Jayne said you’d say that. She also said she’d take you shopping tomorrow afternoon. I’ve also invited her and your father, so I hope you don’t mind. Of course Danny can come over; Cora’s taking them all to the movies.” He grinned. “Even I call her Cora now. After eleven years. You’re a bad influence.”

His hand still cupped her cheek. Could he tell how madly her pulse raced? But no way could she meet everyone, not like that. Meeting strangers in church was one thing, but meeting them here, over dinner? She was far too shy. Her tongue would tie in knots, and she’d make a fool of herself. Wait, did he say she was important? She must have misunderstood. A thought snapped through her confusion. “I’m working tomorrow.”

“Not anymore. The living room got painted too. Would you like to see it?”

She wasn’t sure she could handle it. “Yes, that would be nice.”

The sight shocked her. It was beautiful but empty. Empty of about everything, but mostly Marisa. Her portrait was gone. Her Bible and magazines were gone. The drapes were now pale wooden mini-blinds, and there were only a few photographs. Emma took a deep breath and turned to Keith. He seemed to be waiting for her approval.

“What happened?” was all she could manage.

“Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, but...” She waved her arms around her. “What did you do with everything?”

“The portrait is in the game room, and most of the photographs have been put in albums to give to the kids when they get older. Some of the other items have been put in storage, and the rest went to Jayne.”

“Jayne?”

“Yes, Peter told me she needed stuff for a charity thing.”

“Oh, yes, that.”

The ring. The kitchen. The living room. Did you change anything else? Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t dare try to understand what was going on but desperately hoped that wasn’t all.

“Emma. The kids will be looking for us soon, but I need to show you one more thing. If you don’t mind.”

He took her hand and walked her down the hallway. When he opened the door, she balked.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and wouldn’t look at him.

He gently pulled on her hand. “One peek. That’s all. Then we’ll go upstairs.”

She couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to look. What had he done? What was he doing? He pushed open the door and stepped in, turning on the light as he did.

Emma gasped and took three steps forward, letting go of his hand. The room looked nothing like before. The old bedroom was gone and the walls were surprisingly blue. A familiar blue. She stepped in further and noticed the far wall was a much darker blue.

A beautiful mahogany sleigh occupied the area the four-poster once commanded, with a multi-colored bedspread brightening up the cornflower pillows. She’d seen that bedspread in Jayne’s Suburban and commented on how pretty it was. Everything fell into place. Keith had his bedroom painted in colors Emma had chosen. The significance was hard to ignore, but she pushed it aside. With a million other thoughts colliding in her brain, she couldn’t think about the future.

She also couldn’t help a smile. “Jayne the collaborator.”

“Yep.” He walked over to Marisa’s closet and opened the door to show the blue-walled empty cavern. “She took pretty much everything except a few pairs of shoes Rebekah couldn’t live without.”

Emma should have been over the moon but was instead tongue-tied and self-conscious, her face surprisingly cool.

He took three steps and closed the bedroom door then stood beside her. “What do you think?”

She looked at him, trembling in apprehension of what he might do or say next. “I think I’d better go upstairs.”

He grabbed her waist and, in one sudden movement, picked her up off the floor and cradled her in his arms.

She squeaked in alarm. He grinned, teasing, and she lightly punched his chest, “Keith Sullivan, you better put me down right now.”

“I have to tell you something first.”

“What?” After everything else, what could be left?

“I love you.”

He stood her back on the floor and held her right hand, running her fingers over his left. “I’m glad you noticed this. I should have done it a long time ago, and I’m sorry. Now we can go upstairs.”

Her head spun from the words and the motion. “But...”

“Shh.” He pressed his finger against her lips. “Not yet. Let’s go.” He guided her out of the room, closing the door behind them before he took her hand and led her up to the game room.

They watched 101 Dalmatians. Emma paid little attention even though she’d made the selection. Her mind focused on one thing alone. He loves me. To prove it, he’d changed everything. And taken off the ring. Did that mean he’d give her another chance? Want to marry Emma?

Jayne. She’d had a hand in this. All that fuss about picking colors when she only wanted to find out what Emma liked and tell Keith. What wonderful a friend she was. Emma turned her head away from the meaningless jumble of animal characters on the television as she sensed his eyes on her. He smiled, and she wanted to go to him, curl up beside him. Allow him to wrap his arm around her.

She refrained. Too many eyes in the room and leaving in an hour would be difficult enough without that. She wanted to tell him she loved him too. Not yet. What did he mean? Because of the children, or because he wasn’t ready? Was she ready? She sighed. Patience. If he loved her, she could wait.

They stared at each other across the room, oblivious to everything else until the end of the movie.

“I should go home,” Emma said. She didn’t want to leave.

She hugged the children goodbye, and Keith walked her out to her car. “I can take you home and get someone to deliver your car tomorrow.”

“No. I’m fine. It’s not even fifteen minutes.”

“Then I’ll follow you.” He walked back to the front door and yelled he’d be back in thirty minutes. Emma got in her car and pulled out of the driveway. She smiled when she saw the protective headlights of his car. He loves me. They were quickly outside her home, and he opened her car door. She took his hand, and he guided her out, holding it as they walked to the front door.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Keith.”

He kissed her hand and then her cheek. “Good night, Emma. Remember, I love you.”

Emma couldn’t stand propriety any more. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. “Oh, Keith, I love you too, so much. I can’t believe how much.”

His lips touched the top of her head as he slid his hands down her upper arms. He moved her back enough to cup his hand under her chin. “You’ve no idea how good it is to hear that. Thank you, Emma. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He drove away and left her feeling confused. He didn’t even kiss her, not really. Why not? Was he having second thoughts? Did he regret the changes he’d made in his home? Did he really want her as his guest? If he’d proposed, she was sure she’d have accepted. Yet he seemed to hesitate. Or did he think she’d refuse him again?

Stop second-guessing everything. He loves me. That’s all that matters.

She walked in as Jayne and her father were putting on their coats. He usually followed her home to make sure she was safe behind a locked door before he returned.

Emma squealed when she saw Jayne and threw her arms around her neck. “Jayne! Oh, Jayne. Thank you so much. I can never repay you.”

Jayne chuckled. “I take it you had a good evening? What did you think of everything?”

“Wonderful. Fantastic. Incredible. And—he loves me. Can you believe that? He loves me. I can’t believe everything he’s done. I can’t believe what you’ve done.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know what’s going on?”

Emma hugged him. “All you need know is that, right now, I’m the happiest person on the planet. Even happier than you.” A thought hit her. “Not sure how it’ll go meeting his parents. I’m glad you’ll be there for support.”

“Be where?”

Jayne took his arm. “Oh, yes, I was going to tell you about that. We’re invited over to Keith’s tomorrow night to meet his parents and a few others.” She turned to Emma. “If you can make it into the store for a little while in the morning then do, but I’ll pick you up at one for a couple of salon appointments and a little shopping trip. My treat. Keith wanted to pay, but I told him there’d be plenty of time for that later.” She winked.

“You can take it out of my salary,” Emma said.

“Absolutely not. It is almost Christmas, after all. And you’re almost my daughter. I’ve never had one before, and I intend to make the most of it, so prepare for me to spend the rest of my life spoiling you.”

Emma sniffed back her tears and threw her arms around Jayne again. “Thank you. Somehow, I’m going to pay you back for all you’ve done for me.”

“Are we going?” Luke said. “Or should I take off my coat?”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

12

Keith’s mother huffed as she walked through the house. “I was here only six months ago. What have you done?”

“Looks good,” his father said. He caught Keith’s eye and grimaced at his wife’s dismay.

Caroline stood with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. “Was this her idea? That Emma’s? Did she make you do all this? Change everything? I don’t think I like it.”

Keith sighed. “No, Emma had nothing to do with it. She only saw it yesterday and was as surprised as you are. It’s long overdue.”

“What does Cora Schneider think?”

Cora appeared at the doorway. “I love it. And I agree it should have been done a long time ago.”

“I have some of Mommy’s shoes,” Rebekah announced, holding on to the teddy bear her grandfather had given her the second he walked through the door.

Her grandmother sniffed. “What happened to the rest of her belongings? Thrown on the burn pile?”

This wasn’t going well, and Keith almost wished he’d be called into the hospital. “No. A lot’s been put in storage and some donated to a worthy charity. Mom, why don’t you go and take a nap. It’s only two, and no one will be here for hours.”

“I see. Now you’re trying to get rid of me too. I hope you don’t think you can easily obliterate Marisa from her children’s lives and memories.” Caroline sniffed, no doubt for effect.

“I’ll take Rebekah with me to pick up Danny and Peter from basketball,” Cora said and beat a hasty retreat.

Keith looked to his father for assistance, but he appeared equally confused. “I don’t think Keith is trying to do any such thing.”

“Take his side, of course. Well. You don’t need me, so I’ll get out of your way.” Caroline tossed her head and stalked away.

“What was all that about?” Keith said. “I thought she’d be happy for me. Not that I have anything definite to be happy about yet. But I’m working on it.”

His father sighed. “She’ll get over it. She was fond of Marisa, yes, but she seems to have forgotten that she didn’t like her very much at all in the beginning.” He frowned. “Perhaps that’s it. It took her years to stop saying Marisa didn’t make her feel welcome or that Marisa resented her. Maybe she doesn’t want to go through that again.”

“Most of the problems were Mom’s own making,” Keith reminded him.

“I know. She only wants what’s best for everyone, but everyone includes herself. Plus, she’s always ready to dispense advice to others if they want it or not. Give her time, she’ll come around. So, Emma is the one, eh? No need to ask if you’re sure, I can tell by the look on your face and the way you talk about her. Have you popped the question yet?”

Keith hesitated. “Not really. I wanted to give her time. She’s already nervous about meeting you, and maybe I should tell her to stay home.”

“You don’t think she’ll like us?”

“She’ll love you. But if all Mom does is talk about Marisa, then Emma’s likely to run out of here and never come back.” He looked at his father and shook his head. “I don’t want that to happen.”

His father slapped him on the back. “If it looks like she’s doing that, I’ll trip her up on the way out. Don’t worry, son. If the girl loves you, she’ll put up with your crazy parents. Didn’t you say her parents would be here as well?”

“Yes. Her father and the lovely woman who’ll soon be his wife. You’ll like them. I think even Mom will like them. And, if there are any problems, Emma and I will hide behind Jayne.”

“You have a high opinion of your future mother-in-law?”

“Jayne was the one who convinced me to make changes. Pack things up. Redecorate. If it means Emma will forgive me for the way I’ve treated her and agree to be my wife, then I’ll forever be in Jayne’s debt.”

“Did you treat the poor girl that badly?”

“Not on purpose. A long time ago, you told me how a man should behave toward the woman he wants to marry. It worked well with Marisa, but I could’ve done with a refresher course for Emma. When I asked her to come over tonight, she thought I wanted her to babysit or clean up.”

“Ouch. Sounds like you have some catching up to do.”

“I know. And I’m trying. But I’m not going to ask her to marry me until I show her the way I intend to take care of her. When the time comes, I hope I won’t say something stupid.”

“Good luck with that, son. All I can say is I hope Emma’s looking forward to meeting me as much as I am her. Now, how about a sandwich? That rubbish they fed us on the plane made it through my digestive system hours ago.”

ef

Emma stared at the reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t her. The straggly hair with the split ends was gone. Her hair had been styled to frame her face, and the rinse Jayne insisted be applied gave her mousy locks a sun-kissed shine.

Were those her eyes? She’d worn mascara before, but not often. She never remembered. And would have said three different shades of eye shadow to be overboard. She glanced at Jayne for support.

“You look beautiful. Not cheap or trashy, simply beautiful. Let’s go find you a dress.”

Emma stared at her shaped pink nails while Jayne went through racks of garments and selected a handful for her to try on. Her hands no longer looked like she did dishes and mopped floors. They were smooth, soft, neat. The way Jayne’s always were.

“Ready to try on some clothes? Don’t even look for tags. I already took them off, and you’re worth every penny of whatever you pick.”

Emma loved the shimmer of the first red dress, but she and Jayne agreed the neckline was too low. The second, black, had a high neckline and fit her nicely, but Jayne scrunched up her nose.

“You look shapeless in that. Try this.”

Pale blue. Like the paint in Keith’s room. Like her eyes. Emma wasn’t sure about the way it clung to her hips, but Jayne assured her it was fine. The silken fabric swished when she walked and the neckline was pretty, yet modest. Emma adored it and stared hopefully at Jayne.

“Well,” she said. “If that doesn’t do the trick then nothing will.” She turned to the store assistant. “We’ll take it. And she’ll need some dressy heeled sandals to match.”

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up in front of Jayne’s home. “I hope you don’t mind,” Jayne said. “I’ve invited myself over to get ready at your house. I’ll just run in and grab my clothes. That way we can all go together. Let’s leave to be there a few minutes before seven so you can get comfortable before everyone else arrives.”

In typical Houston winter fashion, the sticky warm evening foretold the arrival of a cold front the next day. Emma brought a light jacket in case the weatherman’s prediction it would be warm all night proved incorrect, but she was glad she didn’t need to wear it.

A subtle change had occurred in the relationship between her father and Jayne. He now drove, and Jayne asked his opinion on everything. Emma often smiled at the adoring gaze Jayne gave her father and wondered if she looked at Keith the same way. And if anyone noticed.

Keith walked out of the house as they arrived. He opened the car door and took her hand while Danny hopped out of the other side and ran in the house. Emma’s heart beat faster. What would Keith think of her appearance?

He stared at her hair, her face, her dress. She didn’t think he was going to say anything, but then he smiled. “Wow. You always look beautiful, but this evening you look incredible.”

He took her hand and led her in to where Cora tried to round up the children and leave.

“Miss Emma!” Rebekah ran toward her and stopped, her mouth wide open. “You’re a princess.”

“Doesn’t she look great?” chipped in Danny, smiling as if he’d done all the work himself.

Cora nodded. “She does indeed. Have a wonderful evening. Come on, children, we’re going to miss the start of the movie.”

The front door slammed as they left. Keith took a noticeable deep breath before he kissed Emma’s cheek. “Mom’s still upstairs, so come and meet my father. He’s guarding the deviled eggs in the dining room.”

He took her hand and led her down the hallway. The muffled conversation of Luke and Jayne followed them.

“Dad, this is Emma.” Keith intertwined his fingers with hers. “Emma, my father, Dr. Tom Sullivan.”

The older version of Keith regarded her with a warm smile. “Hello, Emma. It’s wonderful to meet you at last. Keith neglected to mention how pretty you are.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and shook his outstretched hand before stepping aside to let Keith introduce her father and Jayne.

As the others chatted, Keith pulled Emma to one side. “Can I interest you in a glass of particularly fabulous fruit punch? Cora’s very proud of her creation. Everything else is catered, but she insisted on providing her specialty. Please tell her tomorrow how much you enjoyed it or she’ll get her feelings hurt.”

“Fruit punch would be wonderful. Thank you.” Emma glanced around the room as Keith dipped a ladle into a huge bowl filled with orange frothy liquid. She’d never been in the large dining room before. Cora had told her it was rarely used. The table easily held the ten elegant place settings, and candles twinkled from silver holders.

“This is good,” Emma said as she sipped the sparkling blend of orange and pineapple, trying to identify the other fruit flavors assailing her taste buds. She’d have to get the recipe for the next church potluck.

The doorbell rang, and Keith took her hand again. “Come with me to greet our guests.”

Our guests. Emma thought she might burst.

The intensity of Vince Chapra’s hug surprised Emma, as did a similar one from his wife.

“Vince has told me all about you. So wonderful to meet you at last.”

They didn’t have time to close the door before Jan and her husband appeared. Rusty Gordon used a cane to walk into the house, his wife supporting his other arm.

Emma had met Jan during one of her visits to Jordan, but she enjoyed the surprised look of appreciation and warm smile she got from the older woman.

Tom Sullivan joined them and hugged his former colleagues. “Looks like everyone’s here now.”

The look of trepidation on Keith’s face confused Emma. “Almost,” he muttered, glancing up the stairs.

As the rest of the party trooped into the dining room, Emma grabbed his arm to hold him back. “What’s up? Is your mom okay?”

He looked troubled. “No. I mean, she’s fine. I guess I’ll send Dad up to find her.”

“Keith, tell me what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath. “I—nothing.”

“Is it me?”

He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into her. She saw what I’d done with the house and has been complaining ever since.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? I don’t want her to upset you.” He wrapped his hands around hers.

She smiled. “She won’t. Not tonight.”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then her lips. “You’re beautiful. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy. I love you so much.”

A cough made him spring back, and they both looked up the stairs. A woman stood and glared at them. Emma made herself smile, glad Keith still held one of her hands. He squeezed it.

“Good to see you, Mom. I was about to send Dad up to find you.”

The elegant brunette in the long red dress didn’t answer but stepped carefully down each stair, her gaze fixed on Emma. When she reached the bottom, she ignored Emma’s outstretched hand and turned to her son.

“Did the children leave already?”

“Yes. But they’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Hmph.” She turned to Emma. “Don’t you have a child somewhere? What did you do with him?”

Emma blinked in surprise, but Keith answered for her. “No, Mom. She’s Danny’s guardian. He went to the movies too.”

“Oh.” Caroline frowned. “I see. What do you think of my grandchildren?”

Emma got the feeling that whatever she said would be the wrong answer and chose her words carefully. “I adore them. Peter never ceases to amaze me with his intelligence, and Rebekah is the sweetest and most beautiful little girl I’ve ever known.”

“Rebekah is like her mother. Marisa was quite adorable. My son misses her terribly.”

I won’t let her upset me. I promised. Keith’s fingers tightened around hers as Emma answered. “I’m sure she was. I know she was beautiful.”

Caroline Sullivan’s cool hazel eyes stared at her. “Yes. She was.” She strode past them in the direction of the dining room.

Emma exhaled the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and glanced at Keith. She’d never even seen him angry before, but now he looked furious.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“It is not okay. After everything I’ve put you through, and now you have to deal with her. I’m not sure if I should take you home or her to the airport.”

He pressed his lips together in annoyance, and Emma touched them with her fingers. “Chill. And don’t worry about what happened before. I’m over you calling me Marisa, and I can’t remember anything else you did that upset me, so it wasn’t important.”

“You’re too forgiving. I love you.”

She kissed his hand. “I know you do, and I love you too. Let’s go join the party.”

They walked into the dining room as the introductions were finished, and everyone took their seats. Keith sat at one end of the table with Emma beside him. His father took the other end with his wife to his left. The catering staff walked toward them, arms laden, but Keith held up his hand to stop them. “Luke,” he said. “Would you do the honor?”

The two men exchanged a grin, and Luke bowed his head. Keith held one of Emma’s hands and Rusty took the other as everyone followed suit. She hoped her father was hungry and the prayer would be short. It was. Luke gave thanks for good food, good company, and God’s good grace. “Amen” rang in a chorus around the table, and the first course was quickly served.

Rusty effortlessly turned appreciation of the lobster bisque he ate into how hungry he’d been while a prisoner of war in Korea. Emma listened intently to his tales, fully aware his wife sat across the table and rolled her eyes at every other statement.

“Do we have to hear about torture chambers while we’re eating?” Jan chided.

Rusty grinned and helped himself to another roll. “No sympathy,” he murmured.

Jayne had the misfortune of sitting beside Caroline Sullivan, and Emma caught her eye. Jayne grinned and continued her conversation with the Chapras on the other side of the table. Tom joined in while his wife sat and stared at her plate, occasionally glancing at Emma.

“My, don’t you have a good appetite,” she said as Emma stuffed a large piece of roast potato in her mouth. “Marisa hardly ate anything. Of course, she was always concerned about her figure. She wanted to stay slim and trim.”

Everyone’s conversation stopped, and Emma gasped. The inside of the potato was hot, and she tried to chew and swallow it before she choked. She fanned her mouth with her hand and tried not to giggle. How long had it taken Caroline to come up with that remark? What a disappointment if Emma had stuck to salad. She gulped a mouthful of water to wash down her food and cool off her throat and stared across the table at Jan. Emma felt everyone’s eyes on her and knew they waited for a response. Keith looked as if he wanted to slide under the table and disappear.

Keith. He loves me. I promised not to get upset. Good thing she hadn’t said anything about giggling, because it was becoming a losing battle. Jan raised an eyebrow and grinned, and Emma giggled again.

“Excuse me,” she said to a nearby waiter. “These potatoes are delicious. May I have some more?”

Jan coughed politely into her napkin while her husband laughed out loud. “Eat away, lass,” he said. “I remember when I didn’t eat for two weeks.”

Emma thought he was going to begin another story, but he stabbed his fork into a chunk of beef. He put it in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, staring into space.

Emma desperately wanted dessert but had no room. “Too many potatoes,” she sighed.

The guests left the table and wandered into the living room for coffee as Cora and the children returned. Emma picked up a complaining Rebekah and held her breath as Danny was introduced to everyone, especially Caroline Sullivan.

“They ate all the popcorn,” Rebekah said. “But Mrs. Schneider said next time I can have my own bag. Will you come with us when we go again?”

“Of course I will, honey.” Emma couldn’t hear what Danny was saying to Caroline, who was bent over to better listen to him.

She straightened and stared at Emma. Something in her face softened, and she smiled.

Cora clapped her hands. “Come on, children, more movies in the game room.”

After quick goodbyes and hugs of grandparents, the house rang with thuds as they all ran upstairs. Then silence.

Tom and Caroline Sullivan stood and whispered in the corner. They stared at Emma, and she was glad when Jayne came to her rescue.

Jayne squeezed her arm. “How’re you holding up?”

“I think they’re comparing me to Marisa.”

Jayne shrugged. “You’re probably right. But don’t worry about it. I doubt if she was perfect. I’d think they’d hope you’re someone who can make their son happy and be a second mom to his children. From our conversations, Tom already believes that. Caroline will come around. She just needs to get to know you and realize how wonderful you are.”

Keith left Vince to stand beside Emma, and Jayne strolled over to Luke.

“I promise you, I’ll tell my mother exactly what I think of her comments,” Keith said.

“No. Don’t, please. It’ll work out. If it doesn’t”—she smiled—“they’ll be going home right after Christmas.”

“Unfortunately, not to another planet,” he muttered.

She poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “Your mother, remember? She needs to be close to her grandchildren. Her son, too.”

“You’re too nice. She needs to accept that I intend for you to be a very important part of my life.”

Her pulse fluttered. “You do?”

She could see forever in his eyes. He loved her, and she could put up with ten Carolines if he looked at her like that all the time.

“Yes,” he said, “I do.” He moved his head toward her.

She caught her breath at the significance of his words and recognized the look on his face. “Don’t kiss me in front of all these people,” she squeaked.

He grinned and straightened. “Okay. But one day I will. I hope I don’t have to wait too long.”

“Emma.”

She turned to see Caroline standing beside her, face flushed. She hoped none of their conversation had been overheard.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?” Caroline said, looping her arm through Emma’s. “Let’s take a stroll outside. Keith tells me he’s had the deck extended.”

Keith’s eyes were full of apprehension, but Emma winked at him. “Okay, that would be very pleasant.” She allowed herself to be led out through the French doors and onto the large deck and patio. She’d only glanced at it before, but the warm evening air made it a perfect and peaceful location.

“I’m glad you’ve given me the opportunity to get to know you,” Caroline said. “We’ve heard so much about you from Keith and the children. Well...” She smiled. “Mostly from the children. All we could get out of Keith was that you were a special friend, and how much Rebekah and Peter adored you. Now that we’ve seen you all together, it’s obvious Keith adores you too.”

Emma smiled and studied a beautiful hibiscus, still in full bloom. The ax was about to fall on Caroline’s kind words, she was sure.

“He was crushed when Marisa died, poor thing. She was the center of his world. He loved her so much we were sure he’d never be able to find anyone else to fill the hole she left in his life.”

Emma’s smile froze.

“Of course, the children do need a mother. I’m glad he’s seen fit to provide them with one they can live with.” She laughed. “Well, he seems to be thinking about it, anyway. The children love you, for which I’m grateful. I enjoyed talking to little Danny too. He told me how you’ve taken care of him. Of course, he isn’t as articulate as Peter but still a very pleasant young man.”

Emma thought she might be glaring, so she counted to five before looking up.

Rubbing her hand across her face, Caroline sighed.

Her tired appearance concerned Emma. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“Does it matter? Why don’t you go and rejoin the party. I’ll be fine.”

“Of course it matters, and I don’t want to leave you out here by yourself. Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes?”

Caroline dropped herself gracefully into a chair and applied the tips of several long fingers to the bridge of her nose, pressing into her skin.

Emma leaned forward and touched her arm. “Mrs. Sullivan, do you have a headache? Can I get you something?”

Caroline’s lips stretched into an unusual smile. “Are you always like this? Too good to be true?”

Emma couldn’t avoid a frown. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m only trying to be helpful.”

“It’s difficult. I’ve been determined not to like you but—” Caroline paused and pressed the tips of her fingers together. “I can’t help it. And now I’ve seen how much you love my son, and his children, I want you to like me. Marisa didn’t, not at first. Not for a long time. Finally, we became friends. She said I was bossy and interfering, and she was right. I’ve tried to change, but it hasn’t been easy. I only want what’s best for my family, and I didn’t think you’d make my son happy. I admit I thought you were a single mother looking for a free ride. But I’ve changed my mind. Why do you look surprised?”

Emma grinned. “Because I’m not a single mother, and I’ve never heard anyone say anything about Marisa that didn’t extol her perfection. You included.”

“Well, you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, dear. Marisa was far from flawless. In fact, sometimes I’m not sure how my son put up with all her whining in the beginning. She didn’t understand that he couldn’t always drop everything and be home when he said he would. She got over that, of course, and when she was ill, she was a brave trooper. But she still had her faults, like everyone else. We loved her in spite of them, and she loved us. She was the pickiest eater I’ve ever met. Drove me crazy.”

She took Emma’s arm. “Please forgive my earlier behavior. And don’t worry about whatever Marisa was or was not; it no longer matters. Promise me you’ll take care of my son and my grandchildren.”

“I will. At least, as much as he’ll let me.” Emma didn’t know how to continue.

“A matter of time. He said your father is going to get married in a few days?”

“Yes. The day after Christmas. Said it would help him remember his anniversary.”

“Smart man. If we didn’t have our wedding certificate on display in our bedroom, I think Tom would forget ours. I’ve seen him take a peek at the beginning of every October. Now, my grandchildren are very excited about a pageant tomorrow. Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

It must have been twenty minutes before they went back into the house. Keith stood by his father, agitated expressions on both of their faces. The others were putting on their coats in preparation to leave.

Keith moved toward Emma but didn’t say anything. She hoped her smile answered his unspoken questions.

He tried to help her with her jacket, but she refused. “It’s still very warm outside.”

“Yes, I hope the storms we’re supposed to get in a few hours aren’t as bad as forecast. A lot of rain always increases accidents, and I may be called in. I’m going to do my best to be there for the pageant, though.”

“If you’re not, I understand.”

His fingers caressed her hand. “Go quickly,” he whispered, “before I forget myself.”

She smiled and walked out. Keith helped her into Jayne’s Suburban and closed the door after she’d buckled her seatbelt. He pressed his fingers to his lips and then to the window between them. “I love you,” he mouthed.

Emma blew him a kiss and sat back as the vehicle pulled away. There was no conversation, and she didn’t need any. Something fantastic was about to happen, and she wanted to bask in expectation of the next day. Her father might be driving, but Emma floated home.

ef

Several hours later, her sleep was shattered by a loud crash of thunder. Lightning lit up her room, followed by more thunder. She glanced at her clock. Five. There was another crash, and the lights went out, even the streetlights outside. The room was plunged into total darkness.

Danny knocked on her bedroom door. “Miss Emma? I have a flashlight.”

“Come in.” Emma groped for her cell phone and hit the keypad to light the display, grateful for the small illumination as Danny walked in, flashlight in hand. She was glad she’d encouraged him to keep one next to his bed.

“The wind is really bad,” Danny said. He held his head up and tried to sound brave, but the hand holding the small light shook.

She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and hugged him against her. “Only the cold front we were told about. It’ll be over in a couple of hours.”

“We need to go into an interior room and stay away from windows,” he said. “That’s what they say to do on the Weather Channel.”

“Let me find some slippers, and we’ll go into Dad’s study.”

It wasn’t long before Luke joined them, yawning. “Did you report the power is out?” He put his battery-operated lantern in the middle of his desk. It illuminated the whole room, and Emma told Danny to turn off his flashlight.

“I’m sure they know, Dad. The whole block is in the dark. It won’t be long.” She sat in an armchair, Danny dozing on her lap. They listened to several distant crashes and cheered when the power came back on.

Emma glanced at her watch. Seven-ten.

She opened the study door. It was much quieter outside, so they wandered into the living room. A look through the window confirmed the bad weather was over, with only a stiff breeze and light rain remaining.

“Why don’t you go get dressed while I cook breakfast?” Emma suggested. Danny disappeared, and she made her way into the kitchen.

Danny and her father had almost finished eating when there was a loud knock on the front door.

A tired-looking Officer Breaux stood in front of her. “Emma, have you seen what happened to the church?”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

Learning to Let Go

13

“The church? What do you mean?” Emma shivered, both from the news and from the blast of cold air that hit her.

Her father appeared behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a tree down. Looks like it’s only broken a window, but I wanted to let you know so you can check before service starts.”

Luke groaned. “Thanks, Officer, we will.”

Emma ran to her room and pulled on some clothes. She told Danny to finish his breakfast and then followed her father outside. They ran around to the back of the church and stopped in horror, puffs of breath fogging the air in front of them.

The storm had toppled a large oak, the top of which had broken through a window. Jagged shards of glass littered the ground.

Emma took a deep breath. It could have been much worse. One window. The window of a storeroom.

The storeroom containing all the costumes for that evening’s pageant.

“Oh, no!”

She ran to the back door of the church, unlocked it, and hurried to the corner. Oh, dear.

The room was full of leaves, branches, and water. Everything was soaked. Everything was ruined. She burst into tears.

As if on cue, her cell phone rang. Keith. Between sobs, she told him what happened. “The children worked so hard on their costumes, and I can’t even see how bad it is; the room is full of tree.”

He told her he’d call her back shortly and hung up.

Her father had been on the phone to Jayne. He turned to Emma. “Jayne’s going to bring everything from the shop that might help out. The rest will do without costumes. Everyone will understand, sweetheart.”

Emma walked into the church sanctuary and found a tissue. She blew her nose and glanced up at the altar.

Thank You, Lord. The damage could’ve been much worse, or the tree might have hit the house. Thank You for Your grace.

“Let’s go finish breakfast,” her father said. “Then we’ll come back here with a chainsaw and a mop.”

By the time they left the house, a large truck had pulled up with Cherry Tree Service emblazoned on the side. Not far behind them was Keith’s BMW.

Emma ran up to him. “Did you?” She pointed at the tree truck.

“Thought you might need the help. They’ll get it out of the window, cut it up, and take it away. I have to go and check on a couple of patients, but Cora’s going to bring everyone over to help clean up the rest. I’ll be back later. If you need anything, call.”

“You’re awesome,” she said, grinning at him like a fool.

He picked her up and swung her around until she giggled. “Anything for you. See you later.” He put her down and kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

He’d gotten back in his car and driven halfway down the block before her head stopped spinning.

The morning church service was short and noisy. The sound of chainsaws and loud crashes punctuated the singing and sermon, and Emma grinned as her father gave up.

“Everyone back at five for the Christmas pageant,” he shouted. “It’s gonna be great.”

The last of the tree was finally removed. Miraculously, another truck showed up with a crew ready to replace the window. Tom and Caroline Sullivan grinned at Emma and went to discuss the window installation with Luke.

Jayne squeezed her arm. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a pretty good guy.”

Emma groaned. “I wish he’d propose again. I’m going to die if he doesn’t ask me soon.”

“There’s a lot going on, and it’s probably not something he wants to do in the middle of a large crowd. Look. They’re giving us the all clear to go in the room. Let’s see what we can salvage.”

Jordan Gonzales and her mother stayed to help. Jordan wasn’t allowed to do much, even though she claimed to be as good as new, but Alicia Gonzales proved to be proficient in the art of mopping and everything else. Jayne and Tom organized the children to take each costume into the sanctuary and spread them on the floor, and everyone else cleaned up the mess.

Caroline urged caution in picking up the broken pieces of glass. “There may be a doctor in the house,” she said. “But he’s a little rusty, and the eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”

Her husband pretended to be very insulted, and Emma laughed. Something had happened to Caroline, and she now laughed and joked along with everyone else. Twice, she’d apologized to Emma for her behavior the day before, and both times, Emma had hugged her and told her not to worry about it. Now, Caroline stood in the corner, ironing damp and crumpled costumes as if she’d been there her entire life.

“I can do that, Mrs. Sullivan,” Emma said.

“No. I love ironing, hate mopping.” She smiled at Emma. “Mrs. Sullivan is too formal. You can call me Caroline, or you can call me Mom, whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

Emma stared shyly at the multicolored fabric underneath the iron.

“When is my son going to make it official?” Caroline folded the shepherd’s cloak and picked up another. “Or has he and you simply haven’t announced it yet?”

Emma didn’t know what to say. He asked, but I turned him down?

Jayne walked over with a pair of crumpled angel wings. “D’you think you can salvage these?”

Caroline pointed to the chair beside her. “Put them there, and I’ll try.”

Emma glanced at the two women. She’d longed for her mother, and God gave her not only two mothers, but two friends. She thought she might cry, so she went to see how the outside of the window was coming along.

ef

With hasty replacements for only a couple of costumes, the pageant went off without a hitch. Everyone remembered their lines, mostly, and only one little angel ran off with an attack of stage fright. Rebekah sang “Away in a Manger,” and Emma loved the look on Keith’s face as he watched his daughter.

He kissed Emma. “Thank you.”

Jayne and Emma high-fived each other at the end, and Jayne ran to distribute goodies to the children. The elder Sullivans were vocal in their congratulations, and their son looked at Emma as if she were the most important person in the world.

Now, if he would only...

“Two days until Christmas,” he said. Was he going to wait until then? “I have to work tomorrow but hope I’ll be done in time for the Christmas Eve service. If I’m not, the rest of the family will be here without me.” He frowned as if something bothered him.

She waited.

“Good night, Emma. I’ll miss you but will see you soon. Hurry home, it’s going to be cold tonight and colder still tomorrow.”

Disappointed, she stood back as he gathered his family and left. Maybe Jayne was right, and he was waiting until they were alone. The way things were going, he’d have a long wait.

Jayne stood beside her and slid her arm through Emma’s. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. But I wish I could be with him more. Just the two of us.”

“Of course. But I don’t think it’ll be too long until you get that chance. Your dear father is going to go and do a service at the prison. He didn’t want me to be alone, and I don’t want to be alone either. Why don’t you and Danny come and spend the night with me? I have a spare bed for you, and Danny will be happy with the couch. I’ll bring you both back first thing in the morning. Neither one of us need be at the store until noon.”

Emma hugged her. “That would be wonderful. Danny has an overnight bag permanently packed, and it won’t take me long to grab a few things.”

In no time at all, they were sitting in Jayne’s living room, drinking hot chocolate and carefully toasting marshmallows over her gas log fireplace.

“What are you going to do with this place, Jayne?” Emma asked. “Sell it or rent it out?”

“I don’t know. I’d thought I might let you stay here for a while. But”—she smiled—“I don’t think you’ll want to move twice so quickly.”

Emma crinkled her nose. “I can only wish I’d have that decision to make. I still think I should find an apartment.”

“Wait just a few weeks. Your father and I will be off by ourselves for a few days, and in no time, both you and Danny will be in school. Let’s see how it goes, especially with Keith.”

Emma sat on the couch beside Jayne and hugged her. “Did I tell you how happy I am you’re my friend?” She laughed. “Mom. Or must I call you Jayne?”

Jayne giggled. “You must. Well, we’ll see how that goes too. Mom might take some getting used to. Let me get some more marshmallows. I do hope Danny’s not going to get an upset stomach from eating so many.” She stood and went into the kitchen.

Danny hadn’t appeared to be listening, but he joined in. “I won’t. I once ate a whole bagful, didn’t I, Miss Emma?”

She smiled in remembrance of the sticky mess he’d made. “Yes, you did.”

They both jumped at the ringing of the front doorbell.

“That’s probably Mrs. Dandeneau, the neighbor,” Jayne called. “I have a package for her. It’s by the front door. Would you mind giving it to her, please?”

Emma opened the front door and stared at the person before her. Not Mrs. Dandeneau.

The man in front of her stared back. “Is this Jayne Duncan’s house?”

“Yes.” Emma called back over her shoulder, “Jayne!”

She wasn’t sure if she should let him in. He wore thin pants, a t-shirt, and a pair of scruffy boots. His head was shaved almost bald, and one ear held three earrings. Tattoos decorated both arms and what she could see of his chest. He shivered in the cold wind, and she stepped back.

“Why don’t you come in?”

He glanced to his right and shook his head.

Jayne appeared beside Emma. “What is it?” Her hand covered her mouth as she saw the visitor.

The stranger glared at Jayne. “Hello.” He turned his head and spat on the grass. “Mom.”

Jayne gasped. “William. It’s really you. Thank You, Jesus. Come in, it’s cold.”

He stared at her. “You’re going to invite me in? You’re glad to see me?”

“If only you knew how much I’d prayed for this day. How often I’d begged our Father to send you to me and tell me you’d forgiven me. Praise Him you’re still alive.”

“I haven’t forgiven you.”

She smiled. “You’re here. That’s a start. Now, let me close the door and get you something warm to drink.”

He stared at Emma and Danny standing behind her. “Who’re they?”

Jayne sighed. “You really must come in. I’ve so much to tell you.”

He stared at her and nodded. Then he looked again to his right and waved. “Come over here.”

Emma gasped when a female stepped into the doorway beside William. Her clothes were as scant as his, and her feet clad only with pink flip-flops. She shivered and held her hands in front of her belly. Her large and round belly.

Jayne shrieked. “Oh my goodness, what are you doing? Get in here, right now.” She grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around the shivering girl, pulling her inside.

William followed, and Emma thankfully closed the door behind him. “I’ll go make some more hot chocolate,” she said, gesturing for Danny to follow her.

By the time they returned with the steaming cups, Jayne had the newcomers sitting on the couch and wrapped in blankets. “Emma, Danny,” she said, “allow me to introduce you to my stepson, William, and his girlfriend, Mallory. This is Emma and her ward, Danny. I’ll be marrying Emma’s father the day after Christmas.”

William stood. “It didn’t take you long, did it? Get up, Mal, we’re leaving.”

Mallory grabbed his hand and pulled him back to sit beside her. “Shh, Billy. She’s being real nice, and I don’t want to go outside again.” She smiled at Jayne. “You’re nothing like he said you’d be.” She ran fingers through her short black hair and smiled at Emma. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, it’s wonderful.”

William sighed. “No, she’s nothing like I remember.”

Jayne knelt on the floor beside them and took his hand. “I’ve changed. Become a Christian. I can’t take back what happened, but I’m sorry I behaved so badly. Can you ever forgive me?”

William stood again and walked over to the lone picture still on the wall. He stared at his father. “Did he miss me?” he whispered. “And did he suffer, at the end?”

“He missed you every day, but no, it was quick. Heart attack in his sleep, thank God.”

William nodded. “Good.” He was silent for a moment then walked back to Mallory and held out his hand. “Let’s go and leave everyone in peace.”

She groaned, and Jayne gasped. “No, you can’t. I have so much to tell you. Things to give you. Jason left you money. He opened a savings account and put something in it every day.” She smiled. “You’re quite a wealthy young man right now.”

He stared at her. “You didn’t have to tell me that. You could have kept it.”

Jayne shook her head. “No. And it looks like you’ll be needing it very soon. When are you due, Mallory?”

Mallory smiled indulgently. “Six weeks. It’s a boy.”

Emma walked over and squeezed her shoulder. “Congratulations.”

“And where do you live?” Jayne asked.

William and Mallory glanced at each other before Mallory answered. “We’re kinda between houses.”

“Not any more. You’re staying right here. Right here for as long as you want to.” Jayne grimaced at Emma. “I’d told your father about William and how much I hoped to one day see him again. Now, all I have to do is tell him that William’s come home. I hope he won’t mind a few more additions to his ever expanding family.”

Emma smiled. “Dad? I very much doubt it. In fact, I think he’ll be thrilled. Why don’t we put some pizza in the oven and call him over? He should be home by now.”

ef

Emma stared at the delivery. Five dozen beautiful red roses and one large teddy bear with a small card tied to a ribbon around its neck. The room was soon filled with the flowers’ fragrant perfume.

She slid the envelope off the card. Merry Christmas Eve, Emma. I love you.

The big white bear stared at her with round black eyes. “Well?” she asked it. “Is the man going to ask me to marry him or not?”

The bear’s stare was unchanging. She hugged it to her chest. “I wish he would,” she whispered to its fuzzy head. “Oh, how I wish he would. How much longer is he going to make me wait?”

She closed her eyes and prayed. Father, guide me. I need You now to give me patience and understanding. More importantly, Lord, will I be a good wife? Can I make him happy?

Still hugging the bear, she sat on the couch with a thud. She’d soon have to go to the store and make it through the last few hours of the Christmas rush. She didn’t think she’d see Jayne and smiled as she remembered the previous evening.

After William and Mallory’s surprise appearance, they’d all stayed up and talked for hours. Luke eagerly came over to meet them, admitting he’d been asking frequently for this last burden to be lifted from Jayne’s shoulders. He prayed for William, Mallory, and their baby. The whole room had been in tears at the end of his words.

She pinched the bear’s nose. “God is good, little one.”

Danny walked in and saw the flowers. “What happened? Somebody die?”

“No. Come here.” Emma held out her hand and, when he took it, pulled him to sit on the couch beside her. She took a deep breath. “They’re from Keith.”

Danny read the note attached to the bear and wrinkled his face in consternation. “Are you two gonna get married?”

“I hope so.”

“No!” Danny leapt up and stared at her accusingly, his hands clenched into fists. “No, you can’t!”

She stood and pulled him toward her. “Shhh. Danny, stop it. What’s wrong? Why not?”

Danny burst into tears. “What about me? They’ll send me away.”

Emma knelt on the floor in front of him, holding his hands in her own. “Danny, I’m not leaving you. If I married Keith then you would come and live with us. Me, Keith, Peter, Rebekah, all of us.”

He sniffed. “I would?” A smile spread across his face. “Do you promise? Where would I sleep? Would I share Peter’s room?”

She hugged him again. “I don’t know, honey. But don’t worry about it right now.”

“If he doesn’t marry you, can I do it when I get big enough?”

“Danny, your loving heart will make a girl very happy one day. I’m sorry it can’t be me, but I think I’m too old for you.”

He nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose so. Do you love Mr. Keith?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, I love him.” Everything was so simple to Danny, but Emma still pushed away the shadows of her doubts. “He had a wife before and sometimes...” She didn’t know how to put her feelings in words.

Danny looked confused. “Of course he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have Peter and Rebekah. But she died, right?”

Emma nodded.

“So, if you married him, you’d be Peter and Rebekah’s mom, right?” He looked wistful. “I wish you could be my mom. But if I can live there too, then I guess that’s okay. I don’t mind sharing you.”

Danny proved himself to be far more generous than Emma had been. It was her turn to burst into tears and his turn to dispense a hug. “It’s okay, Miss Emma. If it doesn’t work out then we’ll stay here. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.

Exactly what Keith had told her.

Emma smiled. “Danny, if—when he asks me, I’m going to say yes.”

“Do you have to wait for him to ask? Can’t you just call and tell him you will?”

“No, I have to wait. I hope it’s not too long. But until that happens, let’s keep it our secret, okay?”

ef

The page was urgent. Keith was halfway through the door to go home but hurried back to the nearest phone.

Vince sounded ready to break down. “Labor and Delivery. Now.”

“What happened?” Keith did one of the quickest scrubs of his life.

“Eclampsia. Induced labor. The mom didn’t keep still for the epidural and received an accidental puncture. A few hours later, she was screaming with a headache, and a scan revealed a huge subdural hematoma. Since then, she’s gone downhill. There’s fetal distress and they’re prepping her for a C-section. Then it’s your turn.” Vince rubbed his forearm across his face. “She’s my niece. I want to be in there.”

Keith glanced at the scan. The hematoma had leaked blood throughout her skull, creating large pools of black. He shuddered. It would take a miracle, but he needed to get in there, fast.

“We can’t wait,” he told Vince.

“Then let’s do it.”

God, please help me save her. It’s Christmas. Don’t let her die at Christmas. Keith wished he could work faster and stop the bleeding before irreparable damage was done.

The baby girl was tiny but perfect, with a head of thick black hair. The obstetrical staff had her cleaned up and whisked off to the neonatal unit before Keith finished drilling through her mother’s skull.

The shrill whine of a machine signaled trouble. “I’m not getting a pulse,” the nurse said.

Keith stepped back while they brought in the crash cart. It didn’t work. He stood, gloved hands bloody, and prayed. Vince stood in the corner, praying openly. He shouldn’t have come in, but Keith was hardly going to tell him to stay out.

The whine stopped and was replaced by a beep. Then another. The surgical staff shuffled back into position, and Keith resumed his work. Stop the bleeding. Clean the area. Insert a drainage tube. Close up. He kept reminding himself to breathe and, for once, had no idea how long the surgery took. He focused on the precious life under his hands and the regular beeping of the monitor beside him. Stay with me. Don’t let go of your life. Hold on.

He watched and waited. No more bleeding. Everything looked good on the latest scan. Nevertheless, the young woman lay unconscious and unresponsive before him. How much damage had been done?

Keith pulled off his gloves as she was wheeled out and into recovery. An ashen-faced Vince left soon afterwards, exiting through the double doors and striding toward the waiting room and his family. Taking a deep breath, Keith followed. At the sight of them, several people stood and stared in silence. Keith recognized Vince’s sister. She saw the expression on her brother’s face and burst into tears.

“It’s in God’s hands now,” Vince said. “We have to see if she wakes up. Or how much of her wakes up.”

Felipe Rozicki appeared. “I’ll take it from here. You need to go home and get some rest. I’ll let you know if there are any changes.”

Vince walked over and hugged Keith. “Go home and see your kids. Or Emma. Hurry up and marry that girl. Life is too short to wait.”

Keith shivered as he strode to his car a little while later. The wind had died, but the air was unusually frigid. Thin strands of cloud blotted out the stars and disguised the moon. Thicker clouds were off in the distance.

Life is too short to wait. He had to see Emma. Now.

ef

Emma turned out the lights and smiled at the packages beneath the tree. Danny was so excited she’d had to feign anger to get him to go to bed. She turned out the lamps, leaving the small strands of Christmas lights to illuminate the living room. She sat on the couch and hugged the bear as she stared at the tree, taking in a deep breath as if to relax in preparation for the next few days.

They were all going to Keith’s for lunch, William and Mallory included. Danny’s new bicycle was there, and Emma was sure once he’d seen it, he’d be off with Peter. Bless Jayne for paying for half.

How Jayne held everything together, Emma didn’t know. The wedding was in less than two days. Emma’s father was a nervous wreck, and Emma’s teasing didn’t help. Jayne made him so happy, and he was sure she’d change her mind at the last minute. Like that would happen.

Emma sighed in disappointment. She’d hoped Keith could make it to the Christmas Eve service, but Cora and the elder Sullivans had brought the children. He’d been called into surgery at the last minute. They’d looked as if they waited for her to complain, but she never would. She’d seen firsthand what Keith could do and would never keep him from his patients.

Her father had followed Jayne home, of course, and would soon be back. She might as well wait up for him.

The thump of a car door interrupted her thoughts. That must be her father. She stood and stretched. He might want some hot chocolate.

The gentle knock on the front door surprised her, and she rushed to open it in fear there’d been an accident.

She was shocked. “Keith? Are you okay?”

He looked broken, shattered. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I needed to see you.”

“Come in. What’s wrong?” She stepped back, and he walked in and wrapped his arms around her.

She pushed the door closed with her foot as he cradled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Emma, my darling Emma.”

“Come and sit down,” she mumbled into his jacket. “Do you want me to make you a hot drink?”

“I only need you.”

He allowed her to lead him into the living room. When she sat, he knelt on the floor beside her and rested his head on her knees.

She ran her fingers through his hair and slid them down and under his chin, tilting it up so she could see his face. “What happened?”

He shook his head and lowered it to her knees again. “I’m sorry. Surgery. Not sure if she’s going to make it.”

“Who?”

“Vince’s niece.” Keith groaned. “I don’t even know her name.”

She stroked the top of his head with her hand.

“It’s so hard,” he said, his breath jagged. “Sometimes, it’s too hard. It pulls life out of me, and I need—” He raised his head to look at her again. “I need you to give it back. But I don’t want to make you unhappy, listening to my troubles one day and never knowing when I’ll be home the next. Like today.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered. “Always.”

He kissed her hands. “I wanted it to be different. I was going to wait until things settled down. This wasn’t what I planned, and I don’t even have a ring. Please, Emma, marry me. I don’t know if I can get through the rest of my life without you.”

She gulped. “Yes.”

“I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I’ll never look at anyone else and...Did you say yes?”

“Yes. Now, will you get off the floor and sit by me?”

In a second, he sat beside her on the couch, kissing her as if the world would end at any second. He stopped with a sigh and wrapped his arms around her waist. Head spinning, she leaned back against his chest, her hands on his arms.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

They sat in silence for several minutes. She felt his breath slow and become even.

“When?” he said.

She smiled, glad he couldn’t see her face. “Soon. But not too soon. We have Dad’s wedding to get through, and I start school in two weeks. How about March? Spring break?”

“I have to wait three months?”

“More like two and a half. It will be here before you know it.”

He sighed and kissed her neck and cheek. “I’ll wait however long you want me to. But I’ll keep asking to make sure you haven’t changed your mind.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen.”

They both felt the vibration of Keith’s cell phone. “I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled it out of his pocket and answered.

“Don’t be.”

Emma held her breath in case it was bad news, but he gave a shout of exultation.

“She’s awake and talking!”

He put the phone back in his pocket and stood, pulling Emma up with him. “Praise the Lord. Emma, are you still going to marry me?”

She giggled. “Try and stop me.”

He kissed her then held her head against his chest. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

Light flooded the living room, and Danny appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on? Is it Christmas?”

“Not quite,” Emma said. “But almost.”

Danny’s expression was solemn. “Did he ask you yet? Are you two going to get married?”

Keith laughed and hugged him. “Yes, I did, and yes, we are. Don’t let her change her mind.”

Danny grinned. “That’s great. I can pretend you’re my dad and she’s my mom.”

Keith took the boy’s hand in one of his and Emma’s in the other. “Danny, if there’s any way we can adopt you, and be your real mom and dad, would you like that?”

“More than anything. Then I’d have a brother and sister, too, already made. A whole family.”

Emma tried to hide her grin as Keith winked at her. “Let me see what I can do. I don’t know for sure if I can make it happen, but I’ll try.”

There were several more loud thumps outside, followed by her father’s exuberant entrance.

Jayne was beside him. “We came back to tell you it’s snowing,” she said.

Danny ran to the window in excitement. “Can I go outside?”

Emma shrugged. “I guess. Who knows how long it will last. Get bundled up and don’t forget a hat and gloves.”

“What about Peter?” he said. “Can we call him?”

“I’ve a better idea,” said Keith. “Let’s go over there and wake him up, Rebekah too. We can play in the snow, and I can introduce them to their new mother.” He turned to Luke. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have an idea to take your daughter away from you.”

Emma giggled as Jayne and her father congratulated everyone.

“Can we come?” Jayne said.

“Of course.” Keith glanced at the packages under the tree. “You want to bring those, just in case?” He helped Luke bundle them into a couple of boxes.

Emma stared at Keith’s home, so beautiful with a sprinkle of white. The flakes were falling faster than before, and small patches of accumulated snow decorated the grass. It wouldn’t last long but was a sight to behold. And soon it would be her and Danny’s home too.

Everyone acted as if the house was on fire when Danny ran upstairs to wake Peter, but they were soon all mittened, scarved, and standing outside, trying to gather enough snow to make a tiny snowman.

Keith called his children to him, and then held out his hand to Emma. He squatted on the ground in front of Rebekah and Peter.

“I have some great news for everyone. Emma and I are going to get married.”

Rebekah squinted as she tried to comprehend his meaning, but Peter gasped.

“Does that mean she’ll be my mom? Really? Can I call her Mom?”

Emma hugged him. “Yes, please. I promise to love you forever with all my heart and be there whenever you need me.”

“Cool.”

“Can I call you Mommy, too?” Rebekah said.

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll practice. Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.”

Cora danced in joy. “Finally. More Sullivan babies.”

Emma smiled, and Keith shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Ignoring everyone else, Emma slid her hands underneath his jacket. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed his chin. “You. I want you.”

Learning to Let Go

FIC042040 FICTION / Christian / Romance

Christian romance, inspirational romance, sweet romance, white rose, white rose publishing, fiction,

She was precious. Sweet. Loving. Perfect. He couldn’t help it. He kissed her.

The touch of their lips was brief, gentle, and her eyes opened even wider. It thrilled him to watch that pretty pink flush spread across her cheeks. He loved her. Found her irresistible. She didn’t pull back or move her hand but stood and studied him. A smile lit up her face.

No words would come, so he kissed her again, squeezing her hand as he did. To his joy, her fingers tightened in return, while her other hand moved up to rest lightly on his upper arm. He could have stood and kissed her all night, but when he squeezed her hand even tighter, she stepped back and exhaled.

“Wow. That was—nice. Thank you. It’s great to see you.”

“I can’t tell you how indebted I am for your help, Emma.” He still held her hand and pressed it to his lips. He needed Emma. “The children adore you, and it’s wonderful to come home when you’re there. I wish you were always there for us.” His next sentence tumbled out without much forethought. “Marry me, please.”

She looked stunned. Her eyes searched his face, but she didn’t answer and seemed to be waiting for him to say something else. Marisa had laughed and thrown her arms around his neck in excitement. Why was Emma hesitating? Didn’t she love him?

“I’ll never hurt you, I promise. You can finish school and be a teacher or anything else. I’ll take care of everything and make sure you’re happy. We need you, Marisa.”

Emma’s face paled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m not Marisa.”

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Learning to Let Go

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