Huntington Family Series Page 27

  Alone, she let out the flood of bitter tears she had been holding in for what seemed an eternity. Adam—gone. Her sister’s perfect life—gone. It seemed so unfair.

  She thought of Adam singing songs at Thanksgiving, strumming his guitar, the children at his feet.

  Never again.

  Yet hope was alive. Alive in the temple promises and the life to come. Alive in Kerrianne and the children. Was that how her sister had put an end to her tears? Amanda felt a subtle gratefulness enter her heart—a gratefulness that took away the most bitter edges of her pain.

  When she could not shed another tear, Amanda somehow found the energy to pick up the phone and call Blake. She prayed for him to be home, for his news to be good. Right now she could use his arms around her—his and the arms of two innocent children who had not yet faced death.

  * * *

  Blake scrambled for the phone where it lay on the kitchen floor by his knees. “Kevin?” he said eagerly.

  “It’s Amanda.” Her voice came across very small, weary.

  “Where have you been? Why weren’t you at the courthouse?” Even to him, he sounded accusing.

  “I tried to reach you,” she said. “I left a dozen messages on your cell. They didn’t know where you were at work.”

  “I really needed you there.” Blake let his anger show, though in his mind he wondered if her presence could have possibly made any difference in the outcome.

  “I couldn’t make it. I—”

  “You promised! Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “Don’t be angry, Blake. Listen to—”

  “I don’t want to listen. I lost the children! Now Paula says she won’t let me see them. The judge asked where you were!”

  “I was at the hospital.”

  Fear shot though him—and guilt, too. Guilt that he hadn’t been as concerned for her disappearance as he had been for his own suffering. “What happened?”

  “Adam’s dead.”

  “No!” he gasped.

  “Yes. But suddenly I find I don’t really want to talk about it with you.” Amanda’s voice was cold. “I’m really sorry about the kids.”

  The phone went dead in his ears.

  Blake shook his head. What a jerk I am! Paula was right—he should have known only something big would have kept Amanda away. Their once-bright future now lay in ruins, and he had only himself to blame.

  He punched in her number, his shaking fingers making several mistakes and forcing him to redial. When the call finally did go through, the phone rang and rang and rang.

  * * *

  Amanda stared at the phone she had just set onto the receiver. Set there gently as though placing a baby in a cradle.

  “Oh, Mara!” she whispered. “Kevin!” Fresh tears streamed from her eyes. Not only for the children but for the relationship she’d thought she shared with Blake. She was angry at him for doubting her, for not believing in her. If he thought she was . . . well, like Paula—undependable and self-serving—then he had no place in her life.

  I can’t think about this now!

  Amanda flew to her bathroom and grabbed a toothbrush. From her room, she collected pajamas and a change of clothes. Stuffing everything into her book bag, she raced to the door. Kerrianne needed her now, and Amanda would be there for her sister.

  She heard the phone ring and paused in her flight. Blake, probably. But she was angry at him and wanted to stay that way. The anger buoyed her, gave her strength when she had none left. The anger helped her forget Adam. Forget Kevin and Mara.

  What about Blake? Would it help her forget him?

  At the dance he’d said “We won’t,” and she knew now that he had meant they wouldn’t lose what they had between them. They wouldn’t allow anything to get in the way. That included stubborn pride . . . or anger.

  The phone rang again, then a third time. Let him wonder where I am. She opened the door, knowing her answering machine would pick up after the fourth ring.

  Riiiing.

  Dropping her bag, she ran for the phone. “Hello?”

  No answer. Had she picked up too late? Was this a defining moment, one she would regret for the rest of her life? Was this the moment they would never be able to get past? The moment she had chosen anger and pride over love and forgiveness?

  Then she heard the faint breathing sounds. “Hello?” she said again.

  “‘The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout,’” Blake’s voice sang over the phone, softly and wobbly at first, but gaining strength. “‘Down came the rain . . . ’”

  Tears fell again on Amanda’s cheeks, but this time they were tears of relief, of intense gratitude—yes, gratitude to the Lord for giving her Blake, to Blake for trying to make up, and even to herself for reaching the phone in time.

  “I love you, Amanda,” he said hoarsely.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’m coming over to talk.”

  “I’ll wait right here.”

  He hung up, but Amanda held the phone to her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The first three days were easy. Paula felt the same pride in her children as she had felt when they were first born. Friends came to visit and offer support, and Kim watched the children while she was at work. Kevin was helpful with Mara, keeping her smiling when she became fussy.

  Things soon changed. At the end of the third day, Kim told her to find another sitter. Paula didn’t see why Kim couldn’t do her this favor. After all, she was on vacation for the Christmas holiday. And it wasn’t like she and her son were going anywhere. She noticed that Kim went out of her way to avoid her children, as though afraid of them, and that really bothered her. It wasn’t like they were sick or stupid, or even ugly. They were better than Kim’s son, who did nothing but boss Kevin around and who laughed when his puppy knocked Mara over. Mara didn’t seem to mind, but it irritated Paula.

  Paula missed a day of work to find a sitter. When her boss threatened to fire her if she missed another day, she quit. She didn’t need that job anyway. Waitressing paid better, and she could do it at night. With her looks, it was easy to get a job—as long as she made sure she didn’t put down any references to her old jobs. The managers were jerks at those places, too, and she’d had to quit all of them.

  With her new job, she was able to find a neighbor girl to come in to watch Kevin and Mara in the evenings until it was time to put them to bed. Paula figured once they were in bed, Kim surely wouldn’t mind watching them while they slept.

  A week later, the day before Christmas, Kim cornered her in the kitchen before she left to take her son to the mall to see Santa. “You should have been paid by now,” she said. “Where’s the rent? You said you’d pay it last week.”

  Paula hadn’t meant to be late, but everything cost so much more than she’d planned, though the state at least helped her with some of it. Others had also been generous, especially the people at Sub for Santa, who had made sure she and the children would have a nice Christmas. “I’ll get it for you next week,” she told Kim. “It’s been tough with Christmas and all. You know I had to quit, and the new job doesn’t pay till next week.”

  “I know you’re not paying for Christmas.” Kim’s eyes held no sympathy. “Didn’t you get paid at the old job?”

  “Only a little. I—I had to buy formula.”

  Kim shook her head. “I don’t think so. I saw the free coupons you had for that. And what about your tips? I’m sorry, Paula, but I can’t let you stay here for free. I need money to pay the mortgage, or you’ll have to leave so I can get someone who will pay.”

  “It’s okay for you to say that,” Paula retorted. “You get child support. I don’t.”

  Kim shrugged. “Look, you had a good place for those kids. You could have let them stay there until you had some money—and a plan.”

  “I have a plan. Besides, that stupid cousin of mine wouldn’t let me see them!”

  “Whose fault is that? From what I saw, he was willing to
work out anything. You’re the one who went over there and made a scene. In fact, if you let him see the kids, I bet he’d even come up with your rent money.”

  Tears began in Paula’s eyes. “Why are you being so mean? I thought you of all people would understand the importance of being with your children.”

  “Your tears won’t work on me,” Kim said, her face rigid. “I let you stay here, I’ve done what I feel I could to help you, but you aren’t holding up your end of the bargain.”

  “It seems like you hate my kids. You never talk with them, play with them—nothing. I don’t treat your son that way. What did my kids ever do to you?”

  There was a slight softening in the hard line of Kim’s mouth, but she still spoke firmly. “They haven’t done anything to me, but I can’t get involved. I can’t let myself care about them. It took me four years to get my son out of foster care, to get this house, a steady job. I can’t risk that now. I won’t. It would be different if I thought you were willing to do what it takes, but I don’t think you are. I saw what you brought home the other night, and I have to say that and alcohol and one of Loony’s ‘grab bags’ don’t qualify as nutrition for your kids. Face it, Paula, you went after them, not because you were ready, but because you wanted your own way. You, you, you. I think it’s time you thought about them instead of yourself!”

  Paula glared at her. “You just don’t understand!”

  “Yes, I do. I know exactly where you’ve been because I was there four years ago.”

  “I don’t want to wait four years to be with my kids!”

  Kim shrugged. “If you don’t turn things around, you may have to wait even longer than that. They won’t let you keep them if you don’t have a place to live.”

  “One more week, please?” Paula hated begging, but she needed a place to stay.

  “One more week.” Kim took her car keys from the drawer by the sink. “But don’t leave them alone—even if they’re sleeping. I can’t plan my evenings around them. If I’m going to be here, I’ll tell the girl to leave, but if I’m not going to be here, she has to stay. If they’re left alone, I’ll have to do something about it.”

  Paula watched as Kim left, fuming at the threat. What would she do, call the social worker? A chill swept through Paula. She might at that. Kim had become more and more outspoken in the past weeks. She didn’t seem as in awe of Paula’s outbursts or threats as she once had. Well, I don’t need to put up with that. I’ll stay a few more days and then leave. I bet Loony will let me stay with him for a bit in his apartment. Probably won’t even charge me. Then I can get my feet on the ground.

  “Mommy?”

  She turned around to see Kevin standing where the kitchen met the hallway. “Hi,” she said brightly. “Did you have a good nap?”

  He nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Mara’s still sleeping. I put a pillow by her on the bed so her wouldn’t fall.” They didn’t have a crib, so Mara slept between Kevin and the wall on one of the two single beds in her room.

  “That was good thinking.”

  “Mara falled off once at Uncle Blake’s when I put her on the bed,” Kevin said.

  “You put her on the bed or Blake did?”

  Kevin frowned. “Me. I didn’t know her would fall off.”

  “Where was Uncle Blake?”

  “Working on the truck. Mara was sleeping and her woke up. Uncle Blake says I should have told him, but I just wanted to help.” Kevin brightened. “Amanda bought a thingy so Uncle Blake can hear Mara all the time, even if he’s outside.”

  “A baby monitor?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. I like to play with it, but I don’t break it.”

  Paula had never owned a baby monitor, and somehow it bothered her that the monitor hadn’t been in the boxes Blake had mailed to her. Did he think he was getting the children back? Well, she’d show him. She certainly didn’t need a baby monitor with Kevin around. For being only four, he was a good baby-sitter.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. When he nodded, she got out the large jar of peanut butter she’d bought when he first arrived. She had to scrape the bottom with a knife to get enough for his sandwich. “Looks like we’ll have to buy more,” she said with a sigh.

  “I don’t have to eat peanut butter,” he offered.

  “I’ll buy some.”

  Kevin didn’t reply, but that didn’t surprise her. He was much quieter than she remembered.

  A few days ago, she’d mentioned that he would be going to school the next year. “Will I go to Grovecrest?” he had asked.

  “No. I don’t think so. Why?”

  He shrugged. “I know a teacher there.” After that he’d stared down at a tiny sticker book that had come in the boxes Blake had sent and wouldn’t look up at her no matter what she said.

  Now he ate in silence, and for a long time Paula watched him. She loved the way his hair was growing long enough to curl over his ears, the way his face was beginning to lose its baby fat. She almost couldn’t believe he was her son. When had he grown up so much? There was nothing of his father in him, which was probably a good thing because his father was long gone. The last she’d heard, he was working for a railroad in the East. At least he was alive. Mara’s father had died of a bad liver a few months before her birth. Paula didn’t have much luck with men.

  Too bad I never found a man like Blake, she mused. Her mother had once said the fault was hers, and Paula felt anger rise at the thought. I’ve done what was right by these kids, she told herself.

  Yet seeing Kevin lick his fingers and look hopefully at his empty milk glass, and her with no milk in the refrigerator to fill it, she had to wonder if she was telling herself the truth.

  “We’ll borrow a little more of Kim’s milk,” she told him. With a little luck, Kim might never know the difference.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Day after day passed, and Paula still didn’t allow Blake to see the children. Every time he saw the brightly colored packages under the tree, he felt a knot in his stomach. Surely Paula would let him visit soon.

  He had finally stopped listening for Kevin and Mara, but the silence in the house when he was alone seemed deafening. The baby shampoo on the edge of the tub twice reduced him to tears. So had the receiver for the baby monitor he’d accidentally left on his dresser.

  Kevin hadn’t called him again, but Blake didn’t cancel the cell phone service in the hope that Paula would relent. He had called the cell number several times—only to get his voice mail. He had managed to talk to Paula once more on her home phone.

  “At least let me come and take them to church,” he’d begged. “You know how important that is, whether you live it or not. They need an anchor.” Paula’s answer was to swear at both him and the Church.

  Only prayer got Blake through each day—prayer and Amanda.

  Amanda suffered with the situation as he did. Because Blake was out of school for the holidays and Amanda didn’t have to teach, they spent more time together, growing closer.

  They also spent some time every day with Kerrianne and her children. While Amanda comforted Kerrianne, who was still in shock and deeply mourning her husband, Blake entertained her children. Being with Misty and Benjamin helped fill the emptiness Kevin and Mara’s absence had left in his heart.

  Blake celebrated a subdued Christmas with the Huntington family. Kerrianne had insisted upon a dinner and presents. She wanted everything to be as normal as possible for her children, who really weren’t old enough to understand their father’s death.

  Later that evening at his apartment, Blake took his tree down but left the presents he’d bought for Kevin and Mara in a corner of the living room.

  A few days after Christmas, two weeks after the custody hearing, he decided to try again to talk to Paula, but her housemate, Kim, answered. “I’m sorry, but Paula moved out.”

  Blake found it hard to breathe. “Moved out? When? Where’d she go?”

  “I don’t know where she went,” Kim
said. “She skipped out yesterday without paying the rent.”

  “You don’t have any idea where she went?” Blake didn’t bother to hide the pleading note in his voice.

  “Well, the day before she left, she did mention something about a friend of hers opening a restaurant in California. She might go there to work for him.”

  After he hung up, Blake called Erika with the news, and she promised to look into the matter. “What if she does move to another state?” he asked.

  “There’s nothing we can do but try to follow up,” Erika said. “Still, she came to her counseling session last week—and passed the drug test. That’s something, at least.”

  Blake held onto that slim hope with a prayer in his heart.

  “Now we’ll see if she shows up for her test tomorrow,” Erika added. “If she doesn’t, that’ll be grounds to take the children back.”

  Next, Blake called Hal and Tracey, hoping she had gone to visit one of them, but Hal hadn’t heard from Paula since the hearing, and Tracey had only talked to her a few times, the last time a few days before Christmas.

  “Truthfully,” Tracey said, “she wanted more money. So I started asking her some questions, and she swore at me and hung up. I’m really sorry, Blake. Looks like I was wrong about her. I hope you understand. I just so much wanted to have my little sister back. But I’m sure everything will work out.”

  The apology didn’t change the facts, and the assurances made him feel worse. His worry intensified when Paula didn’t show up for her weekly drug test.

  He and Amanda went to the LDS singles dance for New Year’s Eve, but they ended up leaving early and going to Kerrianne’s, where the rest of her family had gathered. They played board games until almost twelve, and then Amanda pulled some noisemakers and fireworks from her purse for Misty and Benjamin, who weren’t in the least tired, having slept several hours after dinner. Blake laughed at their excitement, but it brought an ache to his heart as he remembered how her “magic purse” had delighted Kevin.

  Where were he and Mara now? The not knowing hurt Blake more than he could express. A part of him was simply . . . gone. Amanda reached for his hand, squeezing it with understanding. Blake put his arm around her, grateful for her presence. He didn’t even try to consider where he’d be without her support.