Mixed Blessings. Cathy Marie Hake

sat up and leaned closer. “Marie?”

      Fearing she was going to be sick, she dipped her head and rasped, “Give me a minute.”

      “Marie, I know this is hard. Take a few deep breaths.” He knelt directly in front of her and cupped both of her shoulders, as if to brace her. “That’s right. Take your time.”

      A few minutes passed, and Marie earned an approving nod from him. “There. Much better,” he said softly. She struggled to contain her feelings. Countless emotions flickered across his features. He cradled her cheek in one hand, and the other slid off to feather her hair back from her temple. “Marie, I know this is hard, but I don’t understand what happened. You were okay one minute, and then…what’s wrong?”

      “What’s wrong? That’s my baby! He’s mine and he doesn’t even know me. He calls you Daddy. He’s never even kissed me.” Her trembling whisper finally cracked and she said, “He should have played with Jack.”

      “You’re right.” The agreement whispered between them.

      “He looks like Jack, too. Through the eyes. And the shape of his lips. The right arch of his lip is just a shade higher.” She drew in an aching breath. “Jack would have been so proud.”

      Peter’s eyes glowed with love. For all the horror of the moment one thing came across very clearly—he cherished his son. “Luke is a very special child, Marie. Of course Jack would have been proud. I’m sure he was proud of Ricky, too.”

      “Oh, he adored him! He had father-son portraits taken just the week before…the week before…”

      “I understand,” he said, saving her from saying the words she found so difficult. “I’d like copies of those pictures, Marie. I’ll duplicate my favorite pictures of Luke for you, too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Peter gave her a bolstering smile when she nodded.

      “Mommy, I’m hungreeee!” Ricky stood next to Peter and gave her an accusing look.

      “Yeah, tiger,” Peter chuckled, “I’ll bet you’re always hungry. A lady is going to bring us lunch in a minute.”

      Gathering her wits, Marie tugged her rumpled dress down a few inches to her knees. “That’s not necessary.”

      “But it would be nice.” Peter slipped his arm around Ricky’s hips and gave him a possessive squeeze. “I want you to stay. We ought to all get to know one another.”

      “After lunch, we’ll need to leave. Ricky can nap in the car, but I have a fair drive home.”

      “Where do you live?”

      “Orange County.”

      His jaw dropped, then his brows knit in vexation. “That’s over two hundred fifty miles away!”

      Marie rubbed her forehead back and forth in line with the furrows. “I know. I said the same thing when I found out where you live. I’d hoped you lived much closer to the hospital. It’s halfway between us.”

      “Why were you so far from home for delivery?”

      “We lived in Melway at the time. Jack got a position down in Orange County, so we moved soon after I had Ricky.”

      “I see,” he said tightly. “Where were you staying?”

      “Staying?”

      “Last night. Where did you spend last night?”

      Marie gave him a puzzled look. “We were at home.”

      Raking his hand through his hair, he scowled. “You drove all of the way up here this morning and plan to turn back around and go home again? That’s a ten-hour round-trip!”

      “I have commitments.”

      “What could possibly be more important than getting to know our sons?”

      Marie took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and remembered how shocked and angry she’d been when she discovered the awful truth. Peter Hallock probably felt just as appalled.

      “At least stay for the weekend.”

      The lump in her throat worsened. The anguish in his eyes nearly took her breath away. She empathized. From the moment she’d discovered her son was elsewhere, she’d hungered to hold him. Peter Hallock clearly felt that same longing to be with his son. Her son. She said very quietly, “I can’t stay.”

      “You can’t mean to dash off!”

      Marie pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and extended her hand. “I’ve written my address and phone number down for you. Here. You can reach me anytime. My business number is there, too.”

      Peter took the paper and barely glanced at it before slipping it into the pocket of his slacks. “Stay for lunch. We’ll come up with plans. We have to do something. I don’t want you to leave.”

      “Ricky and I will have lunch with you and Luke.” She looked at her son—her biological son—and whispered, “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard.”

      The housekeeper’s arrival cut short Peter’s response. The aproned woman pushed in an elegant, inlaid wood tea cart laden with four china plates and beverages. She proceeded to set the small trestle table over by the window with linen napkins. Marie thought she must be hallucinating. It looked like someone had clipped this scene straight from a soap opera. She glanced at Peter and Luke. Neither of them paid any attention to the housekeeper.

      Marie gulped. A very ordinary woman who lived an average middle-class life, she knew she was in way over her head.

      Peter nudged Luke toward the table, then plucked Ricky out of Marie’s arms. “We’ll have to get you a booster seat just like Luke’s. Today, you’ll sit on my lap.”

      Marie hesitantly took the seat Peter pulled out for her, then looked at Ricky. He’d curled his fingers around Peter’s collar and grinned up at him, so she couldn’t very well protest, even though her heart twisted at the sight of them together. You knew you’d have to learn to share him. She daintily settled her napkin in her lap, then reached over to take Ricky’s outstretched hand. She cast a wary look at Peter.

      He took Luke’s hand. “Do you normally say grace, too?”

      She nodded. Too. That one word relaxed her a bit. At least they held some common ground. Building bridges between their families would be easier if they shared a foundation of faith.

      Luke and Ricky singsonged, “God is great, God is good…” in a sweet duet, and Peter’s voice quickly blended with them. Marie finally caught up and added, “Amen!”

      Peter’s intense stare made Marie shift in her seat. “What?”

      “If you’re upset about missing church, you can attend ours.”

      She broke eye contact and picked up her sandwich. “I’m so confused.” She put down the sandwich without taking a bite. “I’m torn between needing to stay and needing to go.”

      “Staying is only right. There’s no question. You can’t tease me with one short hour of being with my—” he paused and shot a quick look at Luke, then back at Ricky. His voice vibrated with restrained emotion “—With my flesh and blood, then snatch him away!”

      Despair flooded her. “I care for my sister. She was injured in an accident.”

      He frowned. Marie wasn’t sure whether it was from vexation that she didn’t accede to his wishes at once or concern for Sandy. “How is she managing without you today?”

      “She’s at the rehab facility. One of our church family is picking her up. He’ll keep her company at home until I get there.”

      “Surely he can watch her overnight.”

      Marie winced. “The gentleman involved isn’t exactly versed in giving her the particular type of care she’ll require.”