New Beginnings (25 page)

Is that what she wanted? At this point, she had trouble seeing clearly into the future. But with Heath’s help—and the Lord’s—surely everything would work out.

If only her hormones would calm down, that might help her to think straight.

Ainslee couldn’t go fabric shopping with Anabelle. Lindsay Belle had a runny nose, and Ainslee didn’t want to take her out of the house.

Disheartened, Anabelle drove to Peoria by herself, an hour-and-a-half trip. The huge store provided great discounts on the best names in fabric. Anabelle loved simply browsing through the rows of shelves holding bolt after bolt of fabric.

Once inside the store, which wasn’t busy on a weekday, she made her way directly to the display of quilting fabrics. She passed up fabrics patterned with teddy bears or bright spring flowers. Ainslee preferred urban chic over the more traditional styles that were Anabelle’s favorites.

Soothing elevator music played over the loudspeaker, which suited Anabelle’s mood.

As she browsed for fabrics in sage, light gray, and lavender, which Ainslee had suggested as color choices, Anabelle came across a bolt with little toy soldiers and rocking horses on a red background. Perfect for the backing of a child’s quilt, although not for Ainslee’s baby. And it was on sale!

Unable to resist, Anabelle dropped the bolt into her shopping cart. The Deerford Quilting Guild made quilts for the needy, including abused and homeless children. Making the toy soldier fabric into something a child would want to cuddle would be an act of love on Anabelle’s part.

On the far side of the sale table, she found bolts of red, white, and blue that matched the toy soldiers perfectly. Into the cart those bolts went as well.

It used to be that she, Ainslee, and Kirstie would shop together, usually making a day of it, laughing for silly reasons almost more than spending time selecting fabrics.

But no more. Not with Kirstie in Chicago and Ainslee with her family responsibilities.

She should have called her friend Genna Hamilton and asked her to come shopping with her.

“Hello, Anabelle,” a voice behind her said. “I didn’t expect to see you here on a weekday.”

Recognizing Terri Martin, the store manager’s voice, Anabelle turned and smiled. Typical of someone selling yardage, Terri had measuring tape dangling around her neck like a narrow, free-form scarf. Somewhere in her forties, she had a great eye for color and knew virtually everything about sewing and quilting.

“I’m living the life of luxury now,” Anabelle said. “This is my first day of retirement.”

“Well, congratulations! I’m glad you decided to spend your day with us. Anything I can help you with?”

“Now that you mention it, the fabric in my cart distracted me. I’m going to make it into a quilt for homeless children. But I actually came here because my daughter is expecting their second this coming summer. I want to make something for the baby.”

“Wonderful. Did you have anything special in mind?”

“My daughter suggested sage, light gray, and lavender.”

“Ah, she’s doing urban chic. Very popular with young women these days.” Terri glanced around. “Over here, I think.” At a quick pace, Terri made her way around various display tables, stopping at a wall of fabrics. “Here you go. All of these subdued colors and prints go well with urban chic.”

“Yes, these look exactly like what my daughter had in mind.”

“Fine. You browse for a bit. If you need any more help, give me a shout.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Terri hurried off to help a customer on the opposite side of the store.

Holding one bolt of fabric up against another, Anabelle worked her way down the aisle. She finally decided on a sage-green fabric with a darker green fern print that was set in the center of a square. She matched that fabric with a soft lavender with raised cross-stitching. She’d outline the design with strips of light gray and use a gray-on-gray damask print for the backing. All of the colors subdued like Ainslee preferred.

Satisfied with her selections, she picked up some cotton batting and made her way to the checkout counter with a full cart. Later she’d call Candace to find out what she’d prefer for her twins and return to Peoria in the next week or two.

Perhaps she’d find a day when Ainslee could come with her.

A first-time mother in labor arrived in the Birthing Unit a little after lunchtime. Candace quickly went into the room to see her new patient settled. The room, painted in relaxing shades of beige and rose, included a couch for the dad-to-be to rest on as well as the bed where the mother would labor.

To Candace’s delight, she was met first by Bea Crofton, a longtime doula in the Deerford area. A woman well past sixty, she spent time with a pregnant woman, teaching and reassuring her about pregnancy, answering questions, and helping after the birth of the baby. Her role was a supportive one, unlike a midwife who actually delivered babies.

“Hi, Bea, good to see you.” Candace had learned to trust Bea. As a doula, she never interfered with the medical side of childbirth. Instead she kept both mother and father calm during the process. “Who have you brought me today?”

A former farmer’s wife, Bea’s wrinkled face shifted into a bright smile. “My two favorite people. Arlene Emenaker, our mother-to-be, and her husband, Mike.”

Candace turned to Arlene, who was sitting on the edge of the bed while her husband held her hand. She introduced herself to the young couple.

“So you’ve been working with Bea?” Candace asked.

“My mother lives in Florida. She’s going to come after the baby’s here.” She glanced at Bea. “I wanted someone with me who knew what she was doing.”

“You picked a good doula. Bea knows more about having babies than practically anyone else in town.”

Arlene grimaced and a groan escaped.

“How far apart are your contractions?” Candace asked.

“I’ve been timing them,” Mike volunteered. “That one was four minutes. They were coming about five minutes apart until that one.”

“Okay.” Candace handed the young woman a gown. “Sounds like everything is moving along nicely. You put on that gown, relax a little, and I’ll come back to examine you.”

Never letting go of each other’s hands, the couple nodded in unison, and Candace smiled. There was nothing she liked better than seeing a couple in love who were about to become parents.

She slipped out the door and Bea followed her.

“Those two are real sweethearts,” Bea said. “A pleasure to work with.”

“They look very much in love.”

“They are, which isn’t true with all of my clients.”

Candace raised her brows.

“I don’t mean to complain. I’m just getting old and cranky, I guess. I don’t know how many more years I’m going to keep this up.”

Candace retrieved some supplies from the storeroom. “Are you planning to retire?”

“Not for a year or two. I’m thinking about moving in with my sister. Living alone on the farm like I’ve been doing since my husband passed gets lonely.”

“I imagine. Where does your sister live?”

“In Springfield. It’s a nice town, good restaurants.”

Candace hadn’t wanted to mention that Bea had put on some weight lately, perhaps the result of too many trips to Springfield.

Returning to the birthing room with Bea, Candace began prepping her patient and determined how far the young woman was dilated. Meanwhile, Bea spoke quietly with the couple, reminding them how to breathe during the contractions.

While a doula didn’t actually deliver babies, the close personal connection with the expectant mother and her partner had its own rewards.

That was something Candace could think about for the future.

B
Y THE MIDDLE OF FEBRUARY, ELENA’S BRAIN WAS
spinning like a top on steroids as she made the final plans for their trip to Spain.

She had packing lists, contact lists, a detailed itinerary. She had a timetable for Izzy’s school and dancing lessons, Sarah’s work schedule, Rafael’s academy routine. She even had a list of emergency contacts: Izzy’s pediatrician, school principal, and neighbors who could step in to help if Sarah got in a bind.

The night before their departure, Cesar strolled into the living room where Elena sat on the couch jotting down more ideas as they came to her. Izzy had already gone to bed, Rafael was in his room, and the house was quiet.

“What are you up to now?” he asked.

“I’m just checking my lists again.”

“Sweetheart, you check your lists more than Santa Claus checks his. You’ve gone over them a thousand times. If you’ve forgotten anything, it can’t be important. And if it is, Rafael or Sarah will be able to handle whatever comes up.”

“I suppose.” She puffed out her cheeks and sighed. “I’m just so afraid something will go wrong like it did the last time.”

He sat down beside her and patted her knee. “I’ve checked the weather. There’s not a single blizzard expected anywhere in the Lower Forty-Eight or in Spain. If we were going to Alaska, that would be a different story.”

She jerked her head up. “Are we flying over the North Pole? We could get into—”

“Querida, I am sure the pilots will pick the safest route possible. We’re going to have a wonderful trip. If you get yourself all worked up now, you’ll never sleep tonight. We have a long flight tomorrow. You need to get your rest.”

She leaned on his shoulder. “You’re so good to put up with me.”

“I’m the lucky one to have you as my wife.” He brushed a kiss to the top of her head.

She cuddled a little closer. “You’re going to look very handsome dancing the flamenco in your costume.”

“My what?” He pulled back to look at her.

“I’ve ordered flamenco costumes for both of us and scheduled our lessons.”

“No—no dancing for me.” He shook his head as if he was watching a fast game of Ping-Pong. “You’re the one who wanted the dance lessons, not me. I’ll just watch. Or maybe go for a walk around town.”

“But you have to take the classes with me. I’ll need a partner.”

“I don’t want to wear those skinny pants and stomp around like I’m putting out a brush fire. I’d look silly.” His voice rose in volume.

“You’ll look very handsome, not silly. You’re a good dancer, light on your feet.”

“Absolutely not!” Scowling, he stood. “I’m not going to make a fool of myself, and that’s final.”

Elena ground her teeth.

Rafael strolled into the room, his expression curious. “What aren’t you going to do that would make you look like a fool, Daddy?”

“I’m not going to dance the flamenco in some ridiculous costume.”

Glancing first at Elena and then back to his father, he said, “That’s what Mama wants.”

“She can take the lessons. That’s fine with me.”

“Daddy, man to man here.” Rafael rested his hand on his father’s shoulder. “I’d give it up. Mama always gets her way, so why fight it?”

Cesar sputtered and mumbled something under his breath.

“I’ll see you two in the morning,” Rafael said with a teasing smile at his father. “I’m going to hit the sack now.”

“Good night, Son,” Elena said.

His expression mutinous, Cesar continued to stand looking down at Elena, his legs wide apart, his hands jammed in his pants pockets.

“Is it that important to you? That I learn to dance the flamenco?”

She held his gaze. “Perhaps the teacher can find me another partner for the classes.”

A muscle jumped in Cesar’s jaw. “All right, I’ll take the dancing lessons with you, but you better not complain when I stomp on your toes.”

“Thank you, honey.” He tried to play bad cop, but he was such a teddy bear, Elena had known she could wear him down, given enough time. “You’re a very good husband.”

He grunted and held out his hand. “Come on, querida. Let’s go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow. If I’m going to dance the flamenco I’ll need my strength.”

A secret smile curved Elena’s lips as she and Cesar walked together down the hallway to their bedroom.

The next morning, Elena, Cesar, Sarah, and Izzy piled into Rafael’s van for the trip to Chicago.

With her beloved Dorie in hand, Izzy claimed a window seat. “I want to see all the airplanes flying to the airport.”

“We’ll have to get close to the airport before you can see them.” Sitting next to her daughter, Sarah explained how it would take almost three hours to get there. “Then the planes will be flying low and you’ll get a good look at them.”

Izzy craned her neck to look up at the sky. “Maybe I’ll see one sooner.”

Unlike the day they’d had to cancel their trip, the sun was out and warm enough to hint at the coming of spring. In a few gardens, crocus would begin to peek their heads out of the dirt and hay fields that had been plowed under after the fall harvest would be tinged green with new grass.

Elena felt a swell of gratitude for all the Lord had given her. She prayed He would watch over her and Cesar while they were away and care for their loved ones who they were leaving here at home.

As they drew closer to Chicago, Izzy shouted, “I see one! I see one!”

They all strained to look out the window. Sure enough, a glistening airliner was descending into the airport, which was several miles away.

“Is that the airplane you’re going to fly in, Buela?” Izzy asked.

“I don’t know, honey. One like that, I imagine.”

“I wish I could go with you to Spain.” With a pouty lip and whiny voice, she sounded like a lost little waif.

“Maybe when you’re older,” Sarah said, “your daddy and I can take you somewhere on an airplane.”

That comment caught Elena’s attention, the way Sarah so easily spoke of taking Izzy on a trip together. As though the three of them were already a family.

She glanced at Rafael. He’d had no particular reaction to Sarah’s statement. He hadn’t corrected or disagreed with her. At ease, he continued to drive, keeping his eyes on the traffic and following the signs to the airport.

Shifting in her seat, Elena smiled. There was definitely something going on between Rafael and Sarah. A building affection for one another? Or more than that?

Only time would tell the exact nature of their growing attachment.