Like Gold Refined (21 page)

“First of all, I am so sorry I was unable to locate Mindy and her mother sooner—”

“Oh,” Virginia quickly responded, “we are awfully grateful that you tried.”

“Mr. Woods has asked me to give you some information. He will be bringing Jenny back to be buried near your little church. The funeral arrangements haven’t been made as yet with your pastor but will be announced as soon as things are settled. Mindy will be traveling with him, of course. She is quite a girl, your Mindy. You must be proud.

“Jenny had some last requests. She would like you to let your mutual friend Jamison know that she accepted the Lord’s forgiveness before her death.”

Virginia was surprised. “Jamison?”

She had not kept close touch with Jamison and his Rachel over the past few years. He was no longer playing professional football. After four good seasons he had hurt his knee and turned to his other profession. He and Rachel had settled down in a small town in the Midwest and were busy raising a growing family and serving in a local church. She assumed the address she had would still reach him.

“Of course,” she heard herself saying to Pastor Black. “I will be … glad to inform him.”

“She also had a message … for your mother.”

Virginia waited.

“She said your mother was the only mother she ever knew. And she envied you … dreadfully. But she wants your mother to know that, in her own way, she loved and respected her, and she was always grateful for her concern and—I believe she said—her therapy.”

“Yes,” said Virginia, “she likely did.”

There was a brief pause.

“And how have you been keeping?” asked the minister.

“We are … doing well,” Virginia said, not quite sure how to answer under the circumstances.

“And your family?”

“We are all fine. Jonathan—my husband—is very busy. And I’m pretty busy also with four—well, three of our own—we always count Mindy.”

“This all must have been very hard for you.”

“Yes … yes, it is. Very hard.”

“She’s a wonderful little girl.”

“And … you?” asked Virginia, now feeling more calm and able to talk. “Are you still at the little community church?” she asked.

“Well … it’s not so little anymore. It’s done a good deal of growing since you were here. We’ve had to build.”

“That’s wonderful. And your mother?”

“She is still keeping well. We were to see her this past summer. Very happy.”

“ That’s good news.” She had noticed that he had said “we.” “You … you have a family?”

“Yes. Yes … I married one of the young ladies from the congregation. Elsie Blakewell. You likely don’t remember her, being here just the one Sunday. A wonderful woman. We have two little ones—with a third due next month.”

“Congratulations to you both. That’s nice. We are expecting another, as well.”

“Wonderful. Those little ones really give life meaning, don’t they?”

“Yes, they really do.”

They said their good-byes, and Virginia hung up the receiver. She felt much better after chatting with Pastor Black—and then she realized that was likely what the last part of the conversation was all about. After he had relayed the emotional messages, he knew her thoughts would need to be redirected. Had to be focused beyond the tragedy to more pleasant things—like family. She had the impression that Jonathan would approve of Pastor Black. It was a shame they hadn’t had an opportunity to meet one another.

But as she turned back to the cupboard to continue the supper preparations, her one thought was Mindy. What was going to happen to Mindy now?

“I’ve been wondering,” said Jonathan after they had retired, “what steps one takes to apply for guardianship.”

“I’ve wondered the same.”

“I don’t know if it’s another lengthy business with court hearings and all, or what. I suppose the best place to start is to talk with your father.”

“Yes, he would know something about it—at least could get us started.”

Silence.

“If … it does take that … what are your feelings on it?” Jonathan wondered.

Virginia stirred. “I’ve been hoping we could get that loan paid off.” She shifted again. “But I can’t imagine the future now without Mindy.”

“You mean … go to the courts again?”

“Right.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking, too.” More silence.

“Do you think our girl has changed?” Virginia could not help but ask.

“I suppose she has. I don’t see how a child could go through what she’s just been through and not change.”

Virginia knew in her heart that he was right, but she did hope their Mindy had not changed too much.

The funeral service was held on a Wednesday afternoon at their church in town, the one Jenny had attended as a young girl. Virginia was surprised at the number in attendance—but she should not have been. There were many folks in the town who had known Jenny during her school years, and Mr. Woods was considered an important member of the community and his newspaper a significant asset to the town. What surprised her most was to see Jamison there, seated with his family. She had gotten his phone number from his parents and had phoned him to let him know as Jenny had requested, but she had not expected him to make the long trip back for Jenny’s funeral.

Mindy walked in with her grandfather Woods and was led directly to the front pew where she sat silently. She looked pale and much slimmer than she had been. Taller too. With a lump in her throat, Virginia felt she was looking at a different child. She started to rise from her seat to go to the girl, to hold her close, but the organist began to play. The service was about to begin.

Mr. Woods put his arm around Mindy’s shoulders, and Virginia sank back into the pew. She would wait, though it was so hard. Their minister shared some of his memories of Jenny—the auburn-haired, free-spirited schoolgirl. His description was so vivid Virginia could once again see her friend flashing those green eyes, tossing her red hair, jutting out her stubborn chin. Then the pastor went on to tell the congregation about Jenny’s last days and of her turning to God before her death. A hush fell over the gathering. Several reached for handkerchiefs to wipe wet eyes. In great rejoicing, they lifted their voices at the close of the service to sing “The Old Rugged Cross.” Then the group quietly filed from the church to follow the casket to the cemetery next to the building.

Virginia was not aware that Jamison was beside her until she heard him whisper, “Well, Virginia, you did it. She finally made the right choice.”

“I didn’t do it. I never did seem to be able to make her understand. No … it wasn’t me. I think Mindy had a great deal to do with it. She taught her what love was all about. But it was Pastor Black who helped her to understand and believe the Scriptures. To realize that God loved her.”

Jamison touched her arm gently. “Scriptures tell us that one sows, another waters, and still another reaps the harvest.”

Virginia nodded, awed by the thought. “Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps it took all of us. Thank God for His faithful? ness in never letting go of Jenny. Our prayers were finally answered.”

“She had so much potential,” Jamison commented. “It’s so sad she waited this long.”

Virginia looked over and glimpsed at young Mindy, clasping tightly her grandfather’s hand. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.”

Her tears fell freely then. Jamison pressed her hand and moved on, and Jonathan stepped closer to put an arm about her waist. Through her tears she watched a pale-faced little girl place a rose on her mother’s coffin. Then Mindy turned and buried her face against her grandfather’s dark coat. Virginia moved to go to her, but Jonathan placed a hand gently on her arm. The minister was speaking again.

By the time she pressed her way through the milling throng of people, Mr. Woods and Mindy were climbing into his motor? car. He must have been anxious to get the child away from the dark scene of the gaping grave.

Virginia’s call caught in her throat. She was not yet to comfort the little girl as she so longed to do.

Virginia and Jonathan went home without getting a chance to talk with Mindy. They both felt bereft. Confused. Had it just happened because of the solemnity of the funeral, or had Mr. Woods deliberately kept the girl away from her former parents? Surely—surely they would not be barred from the child.

Jonathan is right
, she thought with determination.
We need to take steps quickly to appeal to the courts for guardianship
.

They were just finishing their supper when the phone rang. Slate hurried to answer it, no doubt hoping it would be Lucy. She could tell from the one-sided conversation that it was not.

“Yes. Yes … they’re home. Yes … I think so. Tonight. I’ll ask.”

He held the receiver against his chest and turned to them. “It’s Mr. Woods. He wants to know if it’ll be okay for him and Mindy to come out.”

“Of course,” answered Jonathan. Virginia was not even able to speak.

“Yes. That’ll be fine,” Slate said into the mouthpiece. “Yes … they’ll be expecting you. We are all anxious to see her again. Yes. Fine. Bye.”

“He’ll be here in about half an hour,” Slate said as he turned around. He was grinning. “Did you hear that, Martha? Olivia? Mindy’s coming!”

A cheer went up from the little gathering at the table. Even James cheered, though he could not have known why. “Mindy’s coming home,” squealed Martha, grabbing hold of Olivia in her excitement and giving her a little shake. “Min? dy’s coming.”

Virginia felt her heart sink. Would the children understand that this was no doubt just a visit?

CHAPTER 19

L
ike a girl welcoming her first beau, Virginia’s heart was pounding as she watched Jonathan open the door to their visitors. What had all the months apart meant? What might Jenny have done? Have said? There had been no letters. Was it because Mindy had decided not to write or truly because Jenny had not allowed it?

The two stepped inside. Mr. Woods was chatting comfort? ably with Jonathan about the change of weather. Mindy stood, just inside the door, her eyes scanning the room, taking every? thing in. “It’s the same,” Virginia heard her whisper.

Virginia moved forward, slowly, one hand slightly extended. “Hello, Mindy.”

The child looked at her, her eyes large and haunted. “Hello.”

Virginia found herself inwardly crying out to God that the gulf wouldn’t be too great to cross. That somehow they would be able to reach her again.

The children, who had been playing in the living room, suddenly realized that their guests had arrived. They rushed into the kitchen, led by Martha, Olivia, and James following close behind.

“Mindy,” shrieked Martha, throwing herself headlong at the girl. “You’re home!”

A light came on in Mindy’s eyes. She held out her arms to Martha and the two embraced. The other children piled in, arms outstretched, and the next thing Virginia knew she had joined the little huddle and they were all hugging and laughing and crying together.

It took some time for things to settle into some kind of order. At last Mindy allowed herself to be led away so the children could show her everything new they had accumulated over the months she had been absent. It seemed time for the adults to talk. Virginia served hot cider and sliced some pump? kin loaf, and they gathered around the table.

“I haven’t had a chance to give you Jenny’s letter,” Mr. Woods said and drew an envelope from his pocket.

The letter
, thought Virginia.
I’d forgotten all about it
.

She accepted it with trembling hands and unfolded it care? fully.
This isn’t Jenny’s writing
, she found herself thinking and then remembered Mr. Woods had said that Jenny had dictated the missive to him. Her eyes fell first to the shaky signature at the end of the script.
Jenny’s
—though barely discernible.

Dear Virginia,

You’ve been a good friend. I know I haven’t always been.

You have done a good job of raising my girl. I’m proud of her.

I was wrong. You were right. He does forgive.

I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you. Please forgive me. I’ll see you in heaven.

Jenny

Virginia folded the letter carefully again and tucked it in her pocket.
Of course I forgive you, Jenny
, her heart cried.

“We’ve been wondering,” Jonathan was saying. “We don’t quite know the procedure for guardianship. How to apply. Do you know if Jenny had taken any steps—if she was well enough to think about it? We don’t know where to start.”

“You want her … again?”

“Oh, yes,” said Virginia quickly.

“I thought—hoped—you would.” He sounded relieved. For a moment he hesitated. “There will be some new adjustments,” Mr. Woods said carefully. “What she has been through, no child should ever need to suffer.”

They nodded, faces serious. There would be adjust? ments.

Suddenly Virginia couldn’t help but put her face in her hands, the tears falling through her fingers. The terrible burden of the separation, the uncertainties—and now, in one moment, it seemed to be over.

“I’m sorry … ” she tried to choke out over her sobs.

Jonathan quickly moved his chair closer and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. He said to Mr. Woods, his tone apologetic, “Virginia has suffered—”

“Oh, I know she has,” Mr. Woods responded fervently. “Let her weep … I understand,” he added, wiping his own eyes.

Virginia eventually was able to get her emotions under control. “Has … did Mindy … say anything … to you … about her future?” she asked hesitantly.

“She hinted. She—I think she’s worried,” Mr. Woods responded. “She said something that made me think she believes she’ll have to go back to her mother’s apartment.”

“Alone?”

He nodded.

“But surely—”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what’s been going on in recent weeks any more than you do. I was too busy trying to track Jenny down—then finding her like I did—and knowing that she was dying. Making arrangements for the funeral and packing up Mindy. It’s all been … so … so upsetting I haven’t really had time to think. I want you to know—right off—that I’d like you to have her back. This is where she belongs. You’ll have my full support if you petition for her. As her grandfather, I should think I’d have a great deal of influence. If you need to go to court, I’ll back you all the way.”

Jonathan and Virginia exchanged glances, sure that would be a great help.

“We know nothing about how to proceed. But we’ll find out.”

“In the meantime,” asked Virginia, “what happens to Mindy?”

“Well … I guess that’s up to you … and Mindy.” He smiled softly.

From where they sat they could hear the children chattering excitedly. “ … and I’ve been riding Buttercup—for you,” Martha was explaining. “Daddy didn’t want her to forget about kids.”

“I can’t wait to see her,” they heard Mindy’s voice. “Will you read us a story?” coaxed Olivia.

Mindy must have agreed, for the next moment Olivia squealed, “I’ll get the books,” and then things were quieter.

“Can she stay—now?” asked Virginia, wondering even as she asked if they were pushing things too quickly.

“I have her suitcases in the car. I’ll bring them in.”

After he had left, Virginia turned to Jonathan, her hands clasped together tightly. “Are we doing the right thing? Bringing her back now before we know how things will be? If we have to go through this all over again, I don’t know if I can … ” She paused to take a breath. “I don’t know if Mindy could bear another separation.”

“We can’t not take her back,” said Jonathan. “We’ll just consider every day as a gift from the Lord and trust Him for the future.”

There was that “trust” word again. She would hang on to it for dear life.

“We’ve got one of those fancy official letters again,” virginia told Jonathan, a tremor in her voice.

“What do you mean?” he asked, turning from the sink where he was washing up for supper.

“Well … it looks like it’s from that law office.”

“What have we done now?” He crossed to her.

“I hope nothing. Here—you open it.” Her hand was trembling.

“Maybe he’s heard we have Mindy.”

That was exactly what Virginia feared. But they’d only had Mindy for two days. How could the man have heard of it so quickly and gotten a letter through the mail?

Jonathan scanned the contents. “There is something here signed by Jenny,” he said.

“Jenny?”

“Yeah. There’s all this legal stuff, but this here has her signature. It’s to do with Mindy, all right. Jenny must have done this before she got so desperately ill.”

“Do you think we should go to Papa?”

“Just let me read through this—then we’ll see.”

He took the letter to the table and sat down. Virginia crossed with him and took the chair opposite. She watched his face as he read.

“ Well—I’ll be—!” He sounded surprised—but not alarmed.

“What is it?”

“Jenny. Jenny has left Mindy to our care. As her legal guardians.”

Virginia could only stare at him.

“It’s right here. She wants us to raise her daughter. She is naming us legal guardians. She … she even wants Mindy to share our name. Right here. She’s already changed it—legally—herself. It’s Mindy Lewis now. Right here. Look.”

But Virginia could not see where his finger was pointing. She couldn’t see through her tears, this time ones of joy.

There were adjustments—but they were not too difficult. As far as the younger children were concerned, things were right back to where they had been. But Mindy found it a bit more difficult. Her eyes still looked haunted at times, as though she could not forget those dreadful days of trying to nurse a dying mother.

They decided that time was their best ally. Time and plenty of love. “But she needs to talk about it, too,” said Jonathan. “Say what she’s feeling. Get it out.”

Virginia agreed—but she didn’t want to push her too soon. “Do you think she’ll know when the time is right? Do you think she’ll come to us?”

“I don’t know. I understand so little about these things.”

Virginia admitted that she, too, knew little about them. Mindy started back to school with Martha. She had missed much of her studies in recent months, but Virginia was sure she would be able to make it up. The teacher, aware of the situation, offered extra help, as well. They would not put pressure on her, but they would help the girl make up the lost lessons.

Mindy was smart and no doubt would have little trouble catching up to the class.

School seemed to be good for her. Virginia did not know if it was because it was a familiar routine or because it kept her mind busy. But she seemed to be more like herself as she went off with Martha at the beginning of each day and returned down the lane, lunch box swinging at her side, at the schoolday’s end.

One evening the younger children had been put to bed and Mindy was seated at the kitchen table, eating an apple and working on lessons. Virginia, seated across from her, was darning one of Slate’s socks.

Mindy closed her books. “I’m done,” she announced.

“Good.”

“I guess I’ll go to bed.”

Virginia nodded. “You know, it might not be too long until you can have your own room. Slate has been working really hard on his own house. When he moves out, we’ll have the extra bedroom back. I’ve already decided that you—”

“I like it in with Martha and Olivia,” she said quietly, lashes lowered.

“Of course,” said Virginia, noticing the look on the child’s face. “I just thought … your room’s so crowded … ”

“I like it crowded.”

Virginia smiled. Maybe being all together was a comfort. For the time being she would not press Mindy to make the change.

“I don’t like Slate to go away,” Mindy said.

“He’s not going far. Just across the fence. He will still be working here—every day.”

“But it won’t be the same. He won’t be living in this house—having supper with us.” She sounded so sad.

“I know. I’ll miss him, too.” Virginia tried to brighten her voice. “But that’s how life is. There are always changes. Things just keep … being different. People grow old—new people are born. Children grow up. Nothing stays the same for very long.”

Like Mindy, she dreaded change. Had always fought against it. It would not do to let Mindy know her own thoughts and fears. “But changes are good, too.” Virginia tried to sound confident. Then she had a sudden realization. In all the turmoil, they had not yet told Mindy that the family was to increase. “Did you know … that we are going to have another change here?”

Mindy shook her head.

“We are going to add another baby to the family.”

“Another one?”

“Another one. Do you know what Olivia said when we told her? She said, ‘What are we going to do with Jamie?’