But Virginia pushed away all those thoughts. Perhaps … perhaps if she were the only one to bear this loss, perhaps if it didn’t mean pain for Mindy, she could endure it. But Mindy … dear Mindy. What would it mean for her?
She wasn’t aware that Jonathan stood beside her until he spoke. “Coffee? It might warm you some.”
Virginia stirred, opened her eyes, and shook her head as though to clear the cobwebs. She stood slowly to her feet and accepted the outstretched cup before moving to the chair. Jonathan lowered his tall frame into the other one. He sipped from his own cup in silence. Then he turned to her. His voice held a tone that she had not heard before.
“The children will soon be awake. As much as possible … ” He stopped, then picked up with, “I think it would be wise that nothing be said in front of them. That we carry on … as normal.” He sipped from his coffee cup again.
Virginia nodded dumbly. She didn’t have the strength to argue … and besides, Jonathan was likely right. It would be bad enough when the time actually came.
They finished their coffee in silence. Virginia stood to take her cup to the kitchen, but Jonathan took it from her. “I’d best go get dressed,” she managed to say and he nodded.
As Jonathan had predicted, by the time she reached the room the children were stirring. Olivia was the first one awake, and Virginia knew she would not be content until she had rousted the others from their beds.
Martha opened her eyes, then snuggled closer to Mindy’s back to catch a bit more sleep. But Mindy was already stirring—stretching. Those familiar movements brought a new wave of sadness to Virginia. She muffled a sob and hastened to finish dressing.
By the time she had leaned over to tie her shoes, James was awake. No stirring and stretching for him. No snuggling back into blankets for a few more moments of shut-eye. He was up with a flourish. Talking even before he was on his feet. From across the room Mindy giggled.
“What did he say?” asked Martha, still blinking sleep from her eyes.
“He said, ‘Horsey. Whoa.’ I think he wants to go for a ride,” Mindy told her.
Mindy was the only family member who seemed to be able to understand James. At least she thought she could, and he usually proved her to be right.
They were all up now. Virginia pulled herself together and began the dressing chores. Mindy helped Olivia while Virginia worked on getting lively James into his clothes.
“You got your dress on backward,” Mindy laughed and helped Martha pull her dress around to the front. They all had a good giggle. At last they were ready to troop downstairs. Virginia once again reminded them to go quietly so as not to wake up their guest. But she felt the irony even as she was putting a finger to her lips. Here they were trying to protect someone who was about to tear their world apart. For a fleeting moment she wanted to stand on the landing and scream until Jenny ran from the house with her hands over her ears.
The children chattered and laughed through breakfast, filling the silence between Virginia and Jonathan. Slate didn’t do much talking in the morning anyway.
“We’re having a spelling bee today,” announced Mindy. She loved spelling bees and did very well.
Oh, but you won’t be going to school
was Virginia’s thought. But she could not say the words. She could not even look up lest the lump in her throat explode into wild sobs.
“Spell ‘cow,’ “ challenged Martha.
Mindy spelled “cow.”
“Spell ‘horse.’ “
Again Mindy spelled the word. Martha seemed intrigued with the sound of the letters.
“Spell … ” She looked about her, thinking long and hard, “ ‘pancake syrup.’ “
“That’s two words.” But Mindy spelled them both.
“That’s right,” beamed Martha, though of course Mindy could have spelled them backward, for all the younger child knew.
“That’s right,” parroted Olivia, thumping her fork on the table in excitement.
“You’d best finish your breakfast or you’ll be late for school,” said Jonathan patiently. “We’re a little late this morning.”
Virginia’s head came up. What did he mean? He knew Mindy was not to go to school. She had agreed with keeping things as normal as possible for the children. But Jenny had made it very clear that Mindy should not go to school.
“Let’s see,” Jonathan was saying as he reached for the Bible. “Whose turn is it to say our Scripture memory verse for the week?”
Three hands went up. James mimicked them, lifting his, spoon included, and managed to spill a bite of pancake and syrup down his arm. The children all laughed in glee, and James, pleased with his performance, joined in noisily.
Virginia went for a cloth to clean him up.
“I think it’s Martha’s turn,” said Mindy.
Martha, thrilled, needed help to get started. “All things … ” prompted Jonathan.
“All things … ” She squirmed on her chair.
“All things work for good together.”
“Together for good.”
“Together for good.”
“To … ” her father said.
She frowned in concentration, then her face brightened. “To us.”
“Who love God,” finished Jonathan. “Close enough.” He turned to the day’s Scripture passage.
Virginia, who normally listened intently, heard little of the day’s reading. Her thoughts were still on the verse they had been studying all week. She had known the words for many years. Now they were seeking to instill in their children the verses that they would need for life.
All things work together for good to them that love God
. She pushed the verse aside. It was quite a coincidence that it should be the verse they had chosen for this particular week. Or was it?
For good
continued its refrain in her mind during the prayer time together.
W
hat are you doing?” Virginia asked, confused.
“Making Mindy’s lunch.”
Jonathan never made Mindy’s lunch. Virginia shook her head, trying to understand. Then it dawned—she had not even thought about Mindy’s needing a lunch for the long train ride.
“I’ll do it,” said Virginia, sounding as weary as she felt. “We’d better be generous.”
“No, you go ahead and clear the table. Mindy will keep me on track.”
So the two of them made the lunch.
As soon as the food was tucked in the lunch box, Jonathan turned to Slate, who was already putting on his heavy jacket. “I’m going to be tied up for a while this morning. After you feed and water, do you want to work a bit with the little bay? She seems a bit skittish. I wanna catch it right away. Something might have spooked her. Let her know she has nothing to fear.”
Slate nodded. A chorus of good-byes followed as child after child ran for a good-bye hug. Slate stood there grinning. “You’d think I was heading off to India or something.”
Then he was gone after a swish of cold air at the closing of the door.
Jonathan went to the wall phone and rang up a number. “Mother—good morning.” He was the only family member to call Belinda “Mother.”
“I was wondering if you have anything pressing today. No? Well, actually—not all of us. Could we bring in the three youngest for a while? Virginia got little sleep last night. She could sure do with a few hours of rest. Good. Thanks. I’ll drop them off. See you then. Bye.”
Virginia found herself frowning at the mysterious call. “Why did you do that? I could have managed.”
But Jonathan merely patted her shoulder and moved on. The next thing she knew he was getting coats and mittens on the children, telling them they were to have a day at Grandma Belinda’s house. Squeals of excitement followed. “Would you collect the things for James, please?” he asked Virginia. “I never know what to put in the bag.”
Virginia went dumbly up the stairs to do as bidden. She wasn’t sure what was happening. Was everything all off base—or was it her weariness and grief that made it seem that way?
By the time she returned with the items for James, Jonathan had the children all ready. Even Mindy.
So that’s it
, thought Virginia.
He does not wish them to be here when Mindy leaves
. Virginia fought hard to keep back the tears. Jonathan was right. It would be very hard for the children. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
And Mindy. One last car ride with her siblings. One last ride—and the child was not even aware of it.
She kissed them all, holding back her tears until Jonathan had ushered them out the door. Then she broke down com? pletely. She managed to cross to the table, laid her head on her arms, and sobbed.
But she could not cry for long. There was much to be done. She could not do any packing for the child until Jenny got up. All her clothes were in the dresser drawers and closet of the children’s bedroom. She did do up the breakfast dishes, occasional tears dripping off her chin into the dishwater. Then she climbed the stairs and made up the beds, picked up little night clothes, and tidied the room. Mindy’s nightgown was tenderly carried back downstairs. She would pack it along with the other clothing.
When Jonathan returned they would need to tell the child what was happening. She was sure there would be tears. She knew she would be unable to keep her own in check. She prayed that Mindy might not—
She didn’t dare let herself even finish the thought.
Lord, please help us
was all she was able to put into words.
It seemed forever before she heard the motorcar. Had Jona? than said anything to her on the way back from town? Was Mindy fretting about missing the spelling bee? Virginia glanced out the window, her heart beating anxiously.
Jonathan was alone.
She was at the door to meet him. “Where’s Mindy?”
“At school,” he said as though there were no reason for her to think otherwise.
“But … but I said … Didn’t you understand?”
“I think I understood.”
She could not see his face because his back was turned as he slipped out of his heavy coat. “Then why …?”
“Because today is a school day,” he answered evenly. “Because she has a spelling bee.”
It seemed foolish to Virginia to pull the girl out of class in the middle of the day to make the afternoon train.
Perhaps Jonathan had been wise enough to think of notifying the teacher so that proper preparations could be made for Mindy’s transfer to another school. In her muddle? headedness, Virginia had not thought of that. “Did you speak to the teacher?” she asked him.
“No,” said Jonathan. “Why?”
Virginia felt totally confused, disoriented. She wished she could go back to bed and get some sleep. Maybe then she would be able to make some sense out of what was going on.
“Why don’t you lie down for a while,” Jonathan suggested. “I’m going to be working around in here this morning. Take care of some of these little inside jobs I should have done long ago.”
“Jenny will be up,” cautioned Virginia.
“I’ll call you. Anyway, she won’t be making an appearance for a long time yet.” He glanced at the clock and her eyes followed his. It was ten past nine. Jenny had not yet come down before eleven.
“Maybe I’ll just lie down on the couch for a few minutes,” she agreed. He nodded.
Surprisingly, she fell asleep. She did not waken until she felt Jonathan’s hand on her shoulder. He said nothing, but she understood. She pulled herself upright and disentangled herself from the afghan. She noted that Jonathan had spread another light blanket over her, as well.
Jenny was in the kitchen, already seated at the table, looking morose. A cup of coffee was before her. Virginia wondered if she had slept any better than the rest of them.
Jonathan worked on a nearby curtain rod that was loose, his back turned. He said nothing.
“Where’s Mindy?” were Jenny’s first words to Virginia.
Virginia avoided her eyes. “Jonathan took her to school.”
“But we have to catch the train at one-thirty.”
Virginia nodded and continued to the table with a plate of muffins.
Behind her she heard Jonathan approaching. He laid his hammer on the counter and reached for a chair across from Jenny. He flipped it around and straddled the seat, arms propped on its back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and there was unmistakable firmness in his voice. “Mindy will not be going with you.”
Jenny stared. She seemed too stunned to speak. But virginia was just as shocked by the words.
It was then that the truth fully dawned. Jonathan had no intention of letting Jenny take Mindy with her. He had been busy working through a plan, no doubt finalizing details as he went. That was why he had not discussed it with her.
“This is Mindy’s home—and she’s staying here,” Jonathan said to the silence.
“She’s my child,” said Jenny, her voice harsh and demanding.
“Not anymore. You gave up those rights when you walked out that door many years back.”
“I never, ever said that I wouldn’t be coming back for her,” argued Jenny, her face now scarlet with rage. It sent her into a spasm of coughing.
Jonathan waited for the worst of the coughing to cease. “Nor did you say you would,” he reminded her.
“You—her parent—were taking her to an orphanage. Remember?” Jonathan had not raised his voice, but his determination could not have been more clear had he shouted.
“A parent can change her mind,” Jenny mumbled.
“Not a parent with any right to a child,” Jonathan said flatly.
“She’s mine. I have legal claim on her and I intend to make it.”
Another paroxysm of coughing.
“Have you considered what you are talking about? Do you have any idea what this would do to Mindy? She came to us scared and silent—she wouldn’t talk, she wouldn’t play. It’s taken us years to get the fear out of that little person. That little mind and heart. Do you think for one moment that I’d sit idly by and let that happen to her all over again?”
“Things are different now,” argued Jenny, obviously giving in on the point Jonathan had made concerning Mindy’s past.
“Yes. Yes. Things are different now. Mindy is loved and she knows it. She is part of our family. And she is staying—right here.”
“You have no right—”
“You gave us the right,” Jonathan repeated.
Virginia stood as if frozen, her eyes moving back and forth from Jenny’s angry face to Jonathan’s calm, determined one. She had never seen him like this. Never in all of their years of marriage. Of course they had never faced anything like this before. But Jenny
was
the child’s mother. She did have legal claim. Didn’t she?
“I gave you nothing—legally.”
“You gave us your word.”
“That will mean nothing in a court of law.”
“I happen to think it will.”
Virginia did not know whether to try to intervene and ask for some kind of compromise or to step aside. They seemed to have forgotten she was even in the room. No wonder Jonathan had not wanted the children present. He knew there would be a scene. One of his own making.
Jenny struggled to her feet. “You can’t stop me.”
“I think I can.”
“I’ll get a lawyer. I do have money, you know.”
Jonathan also rose to his feet. He passed his hand through his hair, his fingers spread to comb through its thickness.
“Jenny—this isn’t about you. It isn’t about us. It’s about Mindy. It would destroy her to be uprooted and sent off to live with a stranger—”
“I’m her mother,” Jenny screeched, a string of profanity following the words.
“And a stranger. Mindy does not know you. Would not feel comfortable with you. And you are not well enough to care for a child.”
Jenny swung on Virginia. “You promised you wouldn’t tell,” she shouted. “I asked you not to, and you promised,” and another blast of swearing shriveled Virginia’s soul.
But she had said nothing to Jonathan. Nothing concerning the nature of Jenny’s illness. Now she thought she understood Jenny’s insistence on her silence.
“I didn’t,” she tried to say over Jenny’s angry accusations.
“Tell what?” asked Jonathan, turning to Virginia.
Jenny seemed not to have heard either of them. “First you pry it out of me,” she hurled at Virginia, “and then you spread it around the whole community. How many other people have you told? How many? Some friend you are—you can’t even keep your word. And you’re supposed to be a Christian. Well—saint you are not.” Jenny spat the words at her and swore again.
Weak from her outburst, she sank into the chair, coughing so severely that her face began to lose its color.
Virginia stepped forward uncertainly. She didn’t know what to do. How to help.
“Perhaps some water,” Jonathan said softly. He had moved around the table to help ease Jenny to her seat, but she shook his hand off angrily. He backed away again, his eyes dark with concern. Virginia placed the glass of water on the table in front of Jenny, but she did not touch it.
When Jenny finally regained her breath and her speech, she spoke again. “Another woman stole my husband, cancer is stealing my life—and now you want to steal my child.” She sounded very bitter. Very old.
“No one is stealing from you, Jenny,” Jonathan said quietly. His voice and eyes had softened. “No one cares for you more than Virginia. She has … has been a friend to you for many years. She … she still cares. And because she cares, so do I.” He paused briefly and his tone returned to its former resolve. “But my concern does not go so far as to let you take Mindy. The child has done nothing to deserve such a traumatic and devastating experience. We are her family. The only one she has known. To tear her away from us now would destroy her.”
In her weakness, Jenny seemed to have little fight left. But the anger clearly was still there. Still smoldering. She did not have the strength left to express it.
“We’ll see,” she said at last. “We’ll see. I’m going straight to a lawyer when I get home. I’m getting a court order—”
“You do that,” said Jonathan abruptly. “If you can’t think of Mindy, go ahead and find a lawyer. But until you have a court order in hand, don’t set foot on my farm again. It’s too disturbing—for all of us.”
Jenny’s head came up. She looked straight at Virginia. “I want out of here,” she said. “Now.”
“I’ll drive you to town,” said Jonathan.
Jenny swung around to face him. “No you won’t,” she hissed. “I’ll crawl first.”
Virginia cringed. She had never experienced so much raw anger in all of her life. She wanted to run and bury her head beneath a pillow to block out the angry words.
“All right,” said Jonathan. “I’ll get Slate.”
Jenny left the room, climbing the stairs too quickly for her limited strength. Virginia could hear her stop, hear the coughing, knew she was near collapse.
Jonathan grabbed his jacket from the hook by the wall and left, the door closing firmly behind him. True to his word, he was going to get Slate. Jenny would not need to crawl to town.
Virginia wrung her hands helplessly. She didn’t know what to do—where to turn. Jenny had always been her friend. Jenny was also Mindy’s mother. It seemed right that a mother should have access to her own child. She herself would die if anyone took her little ones from her. But Mindy was hers, too. That was what made it so hard. Mindy was hers. Hers and Jona? than’s. To take Mindy from them was just as cruel as to keep her from Jenny. And Mindy … Mindy would suffer so much if she were wrenched from them.
Jonathan was soon back. “Slate is getting the car,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into her face. “Do you want to ride in with him and pick up the children, or would you rather have some time alone first?”
“I … I think I would. It … it would be awkward to go with Jenny now. I … ”
He nodded his head in understanding.
Jenny was soon back clattering down the stairs, suitcase in hand. Jonathan moved forward to help her with it, but she gave him a look of pure contempt and jerked the bag away. He let her go.
When she reached the door she turned back. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”