Two Weeks Read online

  She used her elbow to give a quiet knock at her husband’s office door, and a few seconds later she heard him approach. God, if You’re there, help me love him. Please. This isn’t his fault.

  Aaron opened it and smiled at her. “Hey, beautiful.” He took both coffees from her, set them down on his desk, and then gently eased her into his arms. “What a surprise.”

  She waited a minute in his embrace, then she shut the door behind her and nodded to the coffee. “For you.”

  “Mmm.” His eyes found hers. “Caramel Machi-Frappiato with extra Breve Espresso?”

  “Exactly.” The slightest laugh came from her. “Black coffee never sounded so good.”

  “I try to sound like I belong.” He picked up the cup with his name and breathed in the smell before setting it down again. “You know, part of the Java on Main Club.”

  “Right.” She angled her head and looked at him. He was still blond, like her. The two of them stayed in shape so that when—if—a baby came they’d be ready. Not too old. Not yet.

  He leaned against the corner of his desk and searched her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “My period.” She took a slow breath and sank against the wall. “I got it this morning.”

  The familiar disappointment flashed across his face, the way it had so many times in the past. And like before he did what he could to cover it up. “Baby, that’s okay.” He held out his arms, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “We have time.”

  She came to him, her coffee still on the desk. We don’t have time, she wanted to tell him. We’re getting older every month and nothing is helping. Look at all we’ve lost! But like every four weeks before this, she said none of that.

  Instead she moved into his arms and put her cheek against his. “You’re right. We have time.”

  He stroked her back with one hand and cradled her head with the other. “Our baby will come to us. In God’s timing, Lucy. Please.” He eased away and searched her face. “Believe. Okay?”

  How could she tell him she’d stopped believing years ago? Not only in having a baby of their own, but in adopting. They’d tried everything and here they were. “Sometimes . . .” Her voice was broken, barely a whisper. “I try to remember what it was like in the beginning. When just you and me was enough.” She blinked back tears. “When we didn’t feel this . . . this terrible emptiness . . . every month.”

  “Hey.” He framed her face with his hands. “You’re still enough. We’re still enough.”

  Lucy lowered her gaze to the floor, to the place where their feet touched. Not for another minute could she pretend about this. With an effort that came from the most broken place in her heart, she shook her head. “No, Aaron.” She raised her eyes to him. “We’re not enough. A baby . . . it’s all we talk about. All we think about.”

  He opened his mouth, but no words came. Probably because she was right, and by now he knew it. What could he say? Instead he exhaled and finally, fully, the sadness filled his eyes as well. “I don’t want you to feel that way.”

  “I can’t help it.” She lifted her hand to his face and eased her thumb over his cheek. “We both do. It’s true, Aaron. You know it.”

  “Lucy. I still believe.” He shrugged even as tears welled in his eyes. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “I don’t know.” She took a few steps back and leaned against the wall again. “Maybe we could stop for a while. Give it a rest.”

  Confusion clouded his eyes. “What? Us?”

  “No.” A single tear fell on her cheek. “Of course not.” She sniffed. “Like the process. The diet and fertility drugs and doctor appointments.” She crossed his office and looked out his enormous picture window. All of Bloomington spread like a painting below them. After a few seconds she turned and faced him again. “Just be us. The way we used to be.”

  For a while, Aaron only watched her, his eyes locked on hers. As if he wasn’t sure what to say or how to move forward. But then he came to her. He took her in his arms again and held her head to his chest. “Baby, if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.” She could hear his heart beating hard. Like it was killing him to give the idea of having a baby a rest.

  But maybe he would do it now. For her.

  “Really?” She found his eyes once more.

  “Yes.” He couldn’t hide the heartache in his expression, the way it narrowed his eyes and made his smile look sad. “I’ll let it go, Lucy. If that’s what you want.”

  She nodded. “It is.” The desperate hurt in her heart swelled and filled her senses. Tears flooded her eyes. “I can’t . . . I can’t keep trying, Aaron. It’s killing me.”

  “Shhh.” He rocked her and kissed the top of her head. “I understand. We’ll take a break. I promise.”

  “I just want to love you.” Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she didn’t care. She brought her lips to his and kissed him. “I don’t want sex to be a science or a means to an end. I want it to be like it was in the beginning.”

  “Truly. Madly. Deeply.” He breathed the words against the side of her face. “You and only you, Lucy.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes.” The words had been part of their vows. Truly. Madly. Deeply. The ones that defined them in the beginning, twelve long years ago when they stood in front of family and friends in Atlanta and promised forever to each other.

  They were thirty-six now. Closer to forty than not. But still those words spoke straight to her soul. She opened her eyes and searched his. Then she kissed him again. “Thank you.”

  “Is it okay . . . if I still have my mornings there? In the nursery?” He looked like he would give that up, too, for her.

  If she were completely honest, her answer was no. She would’ve liked to find a couple two-by-fours and nail the nursery door shut. For good. But if he was willing to give their desperate efforts a rest, she was willing to let him have his Bible time near the crib. “Yes.” She brushed her nose against his. “If it doesn’t make things too hard for you.”

  His look told her he understood. Praying and believing all while giving up the very efforts that might possibly make a difference. The moment grew deeper. “What happens in that room . . . that’s between God and me. Not you.” He kissed her. “I promise.”

  “Okay.” She took a sharp breath and pulled away. “I have to get to work.”

  “Right.” The rawness in his expression lingered. “Thanks for talking.”

  She pressed her hand against her lower stomach. Her cramps were worse than usual. “I had to, Aaron. I was feeling like . . . we were living in separate universes.”

  He reached for her coffee and handed it to her. Then he walked her to the door. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not that I’ve given up.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Not completely.”

  “I know.” He smiled. “Just for now.”

  “Yes.” She ran her fingers beneath her eyes. “For now.” As she walked away, her heart and steps felt light for the first time in longer than she could remember. This was the break she needed.

  They couldn’t live life obsessed with the single goal of having a baby. She wanted real love. Love, the way it used to be. That’s what this season would be. As if they’d never wanted a baby at all. She stepped onto the empty elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor. Labor and delivery. And suddenly it was her twenty-ninth birthday and she was at the hospital in Atlanta again.

  Aaron was with her and she was on a stretcher. Blood and water coming from between her legs. After every possible approach and tens of thousands of dollars the in vitro process had finally worked.

  As soon as they found out the baby was a girl, they named her Sophie Grace. Every prayer had been answered, every effort had been worthwhile. Each week through her pregnancy, Aaron would read out loud about what stage the baby was at. How she was the size of a grape and then a plum and then a pear.

  How her little heart and arms and legs were fully formed and how he
r eyelashes were growing. “Long and full like her mommy’s,” Aaron would say.

  And Lucy was standing in the kitchen singing “Jesus Loves Me,” because baby Sophie could hear. That’s what the websites said. At twenty weeks she could hear everything around her, but especially Lucy’s voice. So she was singing songs about Jesus whenever she could and changing the words to say, “Jesus loves you, this I know.” Because the song was for Sophie. For her alone. And Lucy was drying the last pan when water suddenly gushed between her legs and splashed on the floor.

  “Aaron!” She could still hear her scream, feel it deep inside her. “Aaron, come here! Hurry.”

  The cramps had started even as she yelled for him, and suddenly they were in the car and she was sitting on a towel and it wasn’t just water. It was blood and water. And the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down her face.

  And they were in the elevator headed to labor and delivery, and in a blur baby Sophie was there. She was there and she was in their arms, her tiny body nowhere near ready for the world. They were holding her in a blanket and whispering to her and singing, “Jesus loves you, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.”

  Ten minutes. They had ten minutes with their little girl. Ten minutes to love her and sing to her and tell her how much they wanted her to live. And it was the eleventh minute and Sophie stopped breathing and the doctors weren’t doing anything to help her.

  “Someone! Do something!” Lucy didn’t want to scream because the sound might startle her baby, her Sophie. Only the nurses and doctor in the room just bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

  Before the twelfth minute, Sophie turned her tiny face toward them and her little body went still. Even now Lucy could swear she smiled. Her baby girl smiled. As if to tell them it was okay. Where she was going she’d be whole and happy and one day she’d see them again.

  And like a million times before—every exhilarating moment of her pregnancy and every terrible minute after her water broke played out in the time it took Lucy to reach the sixth floor. As the doors opened she stepped out and breathed deep.

  She could do this.

  She could walk through the doors of the maternity ward and tend to the babies, the job she had studied for and dreamed about since she was in high school. And she could get through another shift knowing that these were her babies. The ones she was paid to care for and love. And later today Brooke would make her rounds and the two of them would talk. Brooke always had so much wisdom. So much concern for Lucy.

  And she could do this because she and Aaron were finished trying for now. Maybe forever. From here on the memory of Sophie was all they would have. All they would need. And it would be just like it used to be at the beginning. Aaron and her. Taking walks, talking about the hospital, biking to downtown for a day of window-shopping.

  Just the two of them.

  Truly. Madly. Deeply.

  4

  This was the drive Theo Brown looked forward to every weekday. The one to Clear Creek High School, with his daughter, Vienna, at his side. By now each morning, his wife, Alma, would be headed to work where she was assistant principal of Bloomington Elementary School. Theo worked from home in pharmaceutical sales.

  So since she started kindergarten, Theo got the pleasure of taking Vienna to school. Every single day.

  His daughter slid into the front passenger seat, breathless. “I’m late.” She dropped her backpack on the floor between her feet and fastened her seat belt. “Sorry, Daddy.”

  He chuckled. “You’re fine, baby. You can miss a few minutes of school.”

  Vienna leaned her head back against the seat and exhaled. “I love when you say that. Takes away all the stress of ninth grade.”

  “Ninth grade can definitely be stressful.” Theo flashed her a quick grin. She was such a pretty girl, just like her mother. Vienna wore her hair wavy, same as Alma. Her brown eyes shone with goodness and light, faith and possibilities. Theo stared at the road ahead of them. He couldn’t be more proud of his baby girl.

  Vienna was a straight-A student, the only freshman on the school’s dance team, and a budding writer. A one-in-a-million girl, if ever there was one.

  “Okay, Daddy.” She turned in her seat and faced him. “I have an idea. I’ve been wanting to talk to you and Mom, but this will do.”

  “Thanks.” He laughed. “Glad I’ll do.”

  She giggled. “You know what I mean.” Her words came quickly, in time with her enthusiasm. “Remember how you and Mom used to foster kids?”

  “Of course.” Theo felt his heart warm at the memory. “We stopped for you. So you’d have our full attention.”

  “I know.” She couldn’t hide the regret in her tone. “Mom keeps saying graduation will be here before I know it and y’all can foster kids after I’m in college.”

  “Right.” Theo wasn’t sure where she was going with this. Last time they’d talked about taking in foster kids, Vienna had been in agreement. This was a good time for a break. “The older kids need so many meetings and appointments. And the babies . . .”

  “That’s it!” Vienna’s voice rang with excitement. “It’s the babies, Daddy. That’s what I want you and Mom to think about.”

  They pulled up at a red light and Theo looked at her. He raised his brow up high on his forehead. “Babies? Are you serious?”

  “Yes!” She lifted her hopeful face. “Daddy, I don’t have brothers or sisters. I’d love a baby around the house. I could help, too!” She bounced in her seat. “Plus my friend Jessie said she thought it was the coolest thing that we took in foster kids and that if we ever have a baby she’d come over and take turns holding it.”

  Theo could feel his heart overflowing with joy. His smile, too. His wife and daughter made every day a happy one. “Hold up.” He glanced at her. “Who’s Jessie?”

  “Jessie Taylor. She’s a senior on the dance team. She’s my big sister.” Vienna gasped. “Wait! I didn’t tell you about the big sisters! Coach said it’s not easy being on the dance team and getting good grades, so she paired us younger girls with seniors, so we’d have someone looking out for us. And I got matched with Jessie Taylor. She’s amazing, Dad!”

  “Amazing, huh?” Sometimes Theo wondered if his daughter had a word count she had to hit each day. Not that he minded. He loved rides like this, when his only child, his little girl shared every detail of her heart with him. “Okay, then. When can we meet this new friend? Jessie Taylor?”

  “Well, she’s busy because her dad’s the football coach at Clear Creek and she has all these aunts and uncles and cousins, but pretty soon. She wants to meet you, too. And next year she’s going to Indiana University, so she’ll be right here in town and she says we can still have coffee and hang out and talk about God and boys and classes. Because yeah, she believes in Jesus, too.” Vienna grabbed a fast breath. “And so she can hear how my sophomore year is going.”

  “Your sophomore year?” Theo gave her a shocked look, teasing her the way he loved to do. “Baby, wait a minute now. I’m still getting used to you being a freshman. All old and grown up and in high school and everything.”

  The light changed and Theo turned his attention to the road again.

  “Daddy!” She laughed the way she’d done back when she was four and he was still pushing her on the swings.

  “Okay . . .” Traffic was lighter than usual. The sky bright blue. “So what you’re saying is that you want Mom and me to take in a foster child.” Theo glanced at her.

  She made a guilty face and then smiled. “As long as it’s a baby. Because Mom’s right. Graduation really is right around the corner.”

  “And you want us to meet your friend Jessie.”

  “Exactly.”

  They pulled up at the school. Moments like this Theo wished they lived an hour away, so they’d have more time on the drive each morning. He reached out and patted Vienna’s hand. “I’ll let your mom know. About both things.”

  “Perfect.” Vienna clapped a few times. Th
en she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Oh! And Coach says parents can watch practice today after school.” She grabbed her backpack and opened the door. “If you and Mom want!”

  “Yes! We want! Anytime we can be there.” He smiled at her, memorizing the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the youth and hope and future in her eyes. “Praying for you, baby girl. Love you.”

  “Praying for you, Daddy. Love you!” She hopped out of the car and shut the door.

  He watched her run toward the front of the school, her backpack dangling off one shoulder. “Time,” Theo whispered to himself. Where have the years gone? He waited till she was out of sight then he pulled his car away from the curb and out of the parking lot. Her words echoed in his heart on the drive home.

  Praying for you, Daddy. Love you!

  Theo cracked his window and breathed in the fresh January air. Lord, what did I ever do to deserve a daughter like Vienna? He smiled because he knew the answer. He couldn’t have done anything that good. His little girl was simply a gift from God. A child who came to them when they had given up hope of ever having a baby.

  When they had already been licensed foster parents for six years.

  Something about the cool breeze on his face took him back and he could see it all again. He had worked in an office back then, selling—of all things—fertility drugs to doctors. The same drugs that hadn’t worked for them. But then one August day he walked through the front door and there she was.

  The love of his life, his Alma.

  “It happened, Theo!” She practically sang the words, her hands raised over her head. She ran to him. “I’m expecting!”

  And so began the most wonderful years of their lives. Despite their struggle to get pregnant, Alma’s nine months with Vienna were a dream. People talked about pregnant women glowing, but Alma actually did. She looked radiant in every way possible. And as if God wanted to complete the nine months with another gift, Alma’s delivery took only four hours.