Читать книгу Amish Christmas Twins - Shelley Shepard Gray - Страница 20

Chapter 14

After they made their plans, E.A. had wished Will pleasant dreams, and then gone straight up to bed.

The fire was still burning, the snow was falling outside, and Will’s heart was full. Far too full to go to sleep.

He had also felt a need to give thanks. Just a few years ago, he’d been living with his family, going through the motions at his job, drifting through life. He’d felt as if something was missing, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had been lacking. Then Andy had taken his own life and everything had changed. That loss had made him start counting his blessings and looking around to decide what he needed—no, what he wanted—in his life.

He’d never so keenly felt the Lord at work in his life. One by one, the Lord had helped him establish his goals at work, deepen his friendships, strengthen the bonds with his family, and changed everything between him and E.A.

Now here he was, with two children snug in their beds and two tiny babes on the way. He was so blessed.

He got on his knees and stared at the dying embers in the fireplace as he poured out his heart. “Danke, Got,” he prayed quietly. “Here on Your son’s birthday, I feel as if I have been given all the gifts. I praise You and give thanks.”

Feeling His pleasure with the words, Will closed his eyes and continued his prayers, offering thanks for his friends and family, for the blessings of Christmas.

“Careful!” he heard Jemima whisper.

Startled, Will popped open his eyes. What in the world was she doing?

He heard the children scramble some more. It was obvious that they were now downstairs, but for what reason, he couldn’t begin to guess.

Growing concerned, he got to his feet.

Then, just as Will was about to join them, the children spoke again.

“I’m scared,” Roy said.

“I know, but we’ll be okay.”

“I wish I had the new coat that E.A. said I might get on Christmas morning. It’s cold out.”

“Your old coat will have to do.”

“I know, but—”

“Roy, I’ve got on my old coat, too,” Jemima said, sounding weary. “Stop complaining.”

“I will. But can we get a snack before we leave? I don’t want to be hungry.”

Leave? Will felt his heart start beating double time.

He stood quietly, listening to them talk to each other, curious as to why they were leaving and, truth be told, curious about what they were deciding to take with them.

When he heard Roy struggle to open the jar of peanut butter, Will had heard enough.

“Those jars can be tricky to open. Do you need a hand?”

The jar fell to the floor.

“Will!” Roy exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we all know that I need to be asking you a more important question. What are you doing?” Will turned toward Jemima, who was standing by the refrigerator with a stunned expression on her face. “Jemima, do you want to help me out here?”

She exchanged a panicked glance with her brother before shaking her head no.

“No?” Will couldn’t believe it. “Come now. Are you two making a snack or something different?” He pointedly looked at their clothes and the shoes on their feet.

“Something different,” Roy said at last.

This was one of those moments when Will felt every negative part of being a foster parent. He didn’t have a lot of experience parenting, so he had no idea what to do or say.

He sure wished he did, though. It would be nice to know if he was supposed to be listening patiently or just pointing to the stairs and sending them back to bed.

Then he considered these children’s history. He and E.A. were fairly certain that Roy and Jemima had had a nice life with their natural parents, but the children would hardly talk about them. Will did know that they hadn’t had it easy since their parents’ deaths.

Melanie the social worker had told him and E.A. that the last foster family had been particularly rough. That there might be triggers or something else that could hurt the kids that he wasn’t aware of.

Finally, he wasn’t used to parenting on his own. He’d found comfort in the fact that no matter how awkward he might find being a father, his wife was right next to him and she could help make things better.

But E.A. was exhausted and he knew she needed her sleep.

He was on his own.

“If you two are hungry, finish making your snacks and then come to the kitchen table. We’re gonna have a talk.”

Jemima hesitated. “But it’s almost midnight.”

“It is. It is almost Christmas morning. But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about something so important.”

“How do you know it’s important?”

“Why else would you two be up and dressed in the middle of the night?”

He watched them exchange glances again. Remembering something his father used to do, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood silently. When he was but a boy, that kind of thing used to make him feel extremely uneasy.

And . . . it worked like a charm. With deliberate moves, both children finished making their sandwiches, then put them on plates and approached the table.

He walked to the refrigerator, poured three glasses of milk, and joined them.

After he sat down and took a fortifying sip, he said, “Who wants to tell me what is going on?”

“Not me,” Roy mumbled as he took a big bite of his sandwich.

“And why is that?”

Suddenly looking stricken, Roy froze. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t . . . truly?”

“It’s my fault,” Jemima blurted. “I told him about your secret.”

“What secret is that?”

“The secret about how you and Mrs. Kurtz are going to be having twins.”

“How did you hear that?”

“I was standing outside the living room and heard you two talking.”

“Were you eavesdropping on purpose?”

“No. I was going to ask you something. I mean, was gonna ask Mrs. Kurtz. But then you two sounded so serious, I didn’t think I should interrupt.”

“And then?”

Sounding defeated, she answered, “And then I heard what you said.”

“Help me understand what I said that made you so upset. What did I say that was so bad that it made you both want to leave?” When they both remained silent, Will took a stab in the dark. “Is it the twins? Is that it? Do you two really not like babies?”

Roy’s eyes got as big as saucers. “Nee!”

“What is it then? I’m not a mind reader.”

“I heard how you were going to change things. How you and Mrs. Kurtz were going to move us the day after Christmas.”

“Maybe not that soon, but yes.”

“But I don’t want to do that!” Roy blurted as he started crying.

Will could hear E.A. walking down the stairs. No doubt their children’s commotion had woken her up. He knew he should probably be upset with himself, but he was secretly glad.

“I know you like your room, Roy, but your next one will be all right.”

“I like my night-light.”

“I do, too,” Will said patiently. “Roy, I’m not going to take it away from you. You can put it in your next room right beside your bed.”

“But what if they won’t let me have it?”

Will stared at Roy. “They?”

“Who are you speaking of?” E.A. asked as she joined them.

“The new people,” Jemima said.

E.A. sent a puzzled look Will’s way. “Honey, what new people?”

“The people you’re gonna make us go to.”

“You’re going to make us leave and we won’t have our things and the next people might be mean,” Roy said—seconds before he burst into loud, messy tears.

Opening her arms, E.A. pulled him onto her lap. The six-year-old threw his arms around her, buried his face in her neck, and then cried even harder.

It broke Will’s heart.

“I came late to this conversation, but I have to admit to being really confused,” E.A. said. “Where are you two going?”

“To the next people. I heard you say you were going to send us away.”

Will shook his head. “We aren’t taking you anywhere.”

“I heard you!” Jemima cried. “You said that we would adjust to our new place!”

“Did you hear the rest of the conversation?” E.A. asked. When Jemima shook her head, she added, “If you had, you would have heard the part about how the babies are going to need their own room. You would have heard how worried I was about making the two of you share a room again until we can afford to add another bedroom in the house.”

“That’s what you were talking about?”

“To be sure, Jemima,” Will said. “I know you don’t know us well yet, but I hope you will start learning to trust us. If we only wanted you to live with us until Christmas Day, we would have made that plain from the beginning.”

“You want us forever?” Roy asked.

E.A. opened her arms. “Oh, jah, Roy. We want you and Jemima for a long time. Forever and forever.”