A House Divided Page 21
She shook her head, as if shaking off the memory, then turned down the hallway. A knock at the front door made her stop, go back. Wary, she peered through the peephole. It was Mark. Her heart twisted with both dread and fresh happiness.
She opened the door, slowly at first, then flung it wide. “Mark!”
“Rebecca.” He stepped inside and clasped her to him, pressing her hard against his chest. “I missed you.” His strong, masculine arms felt so good wrapped around her. As if she’d come home at last.
He drew back, holding her at arm’s length. “Where’s Wendy?”
“Back at her cousin’s, probably still in bed.” She attempted a laugh, but even to her own ears, it sounded hollow, empty. “My sister tells me that Bandit’s feeling so well and wanting to play so much, he’s worn both the girls out.”
He flashed her a smile, but seemed distracted. If he’d noticed the boxes at random spots in the room, he’d refrained from saying so.
“Rebecca?”
“Yes, Mark?”
“I’ve been doing some thinking and praying . . . and for once, finally, I’ve listened to what God’s been trying to say back to me.”
“Oh?”
His dark eyes were filled with tenderness, earnestness. “I realize now I don’t have to earn his favor. He loves me just the way I am, workaholic and all. But from now on, things are going to be different.”
“What . . . what do you mean, Mark?” She sniffed.
“I’m going to serve him out of love and thanksgiving. Not guilt and uncertainty.” He brushed back a strand of hair off her forehead, smiled, then continued. “I realize I didn’t cause my mother to take her life. You told me that, too, but I didn’t listen. From now on my service to Him will have a new focus. It’ll be free of all my previous hang-ups.”
She chewed on her lower lip, smiling back at him. “Oh, Mark . . . that’s . . . that’s wonderful. And you must feel so great, too, after all this time.” She paused, studying his dark eyes. “It’s been a long haul, hasn’t it?”
“It has. But it’s over. And you’re right. It does feel great.”
“I have something to tell you, too.”
“Okay. I’m all ears,” he said.
“I’m no longer angry with God. I realize I was wrong to have blamed Him for taking August’s life . . . and . . . and to insist on holding onto my prejudices about the mentally ill. Learning about your mother, plus listening to the patients during the coffee hour helped me realize that. I’ve turned my life back over to the Lord. My faith has been renewed.”
A light sprang to his eyes. He appeared as if he were about to kiss her, but she had more to say, and say it she would, so she hurried on.
“Now I can let go and move forward with my own life. I’m no longer afraid of the unknown, of what might happen to Wendy and me. I no longer need my memories and this familiar place, this little town where I grew up, to cling to. God will take care of us.”
His voice broke with huskiness as he finally looked about. Disbelief registered on his face. “The boxes . . . the empty shelves . . . what you just said . . . does all this mean you’re leaving Freemont?”
“School will be starting in another few weeks, so there isn’t time to waste,” she answered, blinking rapidly. “While it’ll be difficult being away from Missey and Ross, Wendy and I still have friends back in L.A . . .”
“Rebecca.” He touched her lips lightly.
She closed her eyes. Please don’t! Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.
“Don’t go, Rebecca. I love you. I love you and Wendy.”
Her breath caught. She stared into his eyes and saw it was true. Oh yes, the love was there shining brightly from within those dark pools. “And I love you, too, Mark,” she said after she’d finally found her voice. “We love you.”
”I want you to be my wife, honey. I want the three of us to be a family. I’ll undoubtedly have to continue to work long hours. That just comes with the turf. But I promise I’ll always put you and Wendy first.” He took her hand in his and began tracing his thumb over her palm. “And even though most of the folks here are in favor of the halfway house now, I realize there might still be risks. Will you take a chance on me, honey? Will you marry me?”
“Oh, Mark! Yes, yes! My answer’s yes! How could I even think of leaving you?”
As his mouth came down on hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him. They kissed for a long, long time, kisses that carried her to forgotten heights of joy.
At last they broke the contact and just stood there, smiling into each other’s eyes.
“Now that that’s settled,” he said, “I have a second proposal to make.”
“Hmmm.” Her smile grew coy.
“That’s right.” He winked. “While I was away this weekend, I met with a contractor who’s interested in building the dream house I mentioned briefly a few weeks ago.”
“You mean the afternoon we drove out to your friend’s the corgi breeder? On your property near the mill pond?”
“Yes. The new home will be perfect there—a perfect place for a certain little family-to-be. That is, if the idea works for you.”
“Oh, Mark. That sounds perfect! Yes, by all means!” Tears of happiness sprang to her eyes. Her heart felt as if it was about to burst. “I can hardly believe it!”
“Well, do believe it, honey. And it’s all up to you to make it happen.”
“Let’s do it! When can we get married?”
“I think September weddings are especially nice, don’t you? Think we can pull it off in that short of time?”
“September sounds glorious!”
They kissed again, long and hard, then he backed away and said, his voice ragged, “It’s time for us to go.”
She nodded. “I think so, too.”
His mouth turned up at one corner. “Besides, there’s a certain little girl on the other side of town who’s probably climbing out of bed right now and needs a good morning hug.”
“And just wait till she hears our news.” Rebecca’s laughter rippled through the silent apartment. “I just know she’ll beg to go straight to the ice cream parlor to celebrate!”
Epilogue
The woodsy scent of the evergreen swags that adorned the sanctuary wafted through the air. Candles flickered from small ruby-colored votives near the altar. Off to the side, melodic strains of Silent Night drifted from the organ.
Christmas Eve. A time to celebrate the Savior’s birth. A time of thanksgiving. A time for families and loved ones to come together and worship their Lord and give thanks to their Father in heaven for the Christmas miracle.
Cradling their sixteen-month-old, pajama-clad daughter Rose, named after Mark’s aunt who raised him, Rebecca nestled closer to Mark’s side and briefly laid her head on his shoulder. The baby dozed peacefully in Rebecca’s arms, a warm bundle clad in pale green pajamas and a fuzzy hooded jacket. Her eyelashes lay dark and spiky against her porcelain cheeks. Her delicate, puckered mouth was like a tiny rosebud.
“She looks like an angel,” Mark murmured to Rebecca, smiling down at the child. “Our very own angel.”
“Our very own Christmas angel,” Rebecca said softly, smiling back up at him. “And won’t it be fun watching her and Wendy tear into their presents tomorrow morning?”
“Hmmm . . . More than fun. The best thing imaginable.” He squeezed her shoulder.
The shuffle of small feet, mingled with muted giggles, sounded from somewhere near the entrance of the sanctuary. Then a beaming twelve-year-old Wendy began leading the procession of children up the center aisle. She walked straight and proud in her white choir robe.
The previous fall, now that Wendy had become a first-year member of the middle school youth group, she’d volunteered to help with the younger children in the Sunday school. Ever since Rebecca and Mark had married and he’d become Wendy’s new father, Wendy’s poise and confidence had grown, not only at school, but at church as well
. To both Rebecca’s and Mark’s relief, her nightmares had subsided as well.
Rebecca turned to watch Wendy as the children drew closer to the front of the church. A young boy about half Wendy’s age broke stride for a minute and, from behind a cupped hand, giggled and waved to whomever he’d recognized in the congregation. A man with white hair who sat near the front pew waved back.
The organ music quieted. Someone coughed. Church bulletins rustled as the children positioned themselves in the choir loft and smiled out over the congregation. Soon the organ began playing again, the full-throated chords of a prelude. Then the children’s sweet, high-pitched voices lifted in Silent Night.
“Silent night, holy night . . .”
Her heart nearly bursting with pride, Rebecca kept her gaze fixed on Wendy, who now stood at the far left of the top row. Her face appeared intent, filled with purpose, as she belted out the lyrics, her voice rising above that of the other children’s. Surely she must think the entire world could hear her personal proclamation of the baby Jesus’ birth, Rebecca mused with tenderness and wry amusement.
Rebecca glanced over at Mark and saw the pride reflected on his face. A tender, fatherly pride. Over the past four years, he’d been an amazing dad to Wendy. Even more wonderful than she’d dreamed he could ever begin to be. Yes, fatherhood certainly suited him, she thought now, and Mark hadn’t failed to remind her of that every day since they’d exchanged their wedding vows.
“All is calm. All is bright . . .” Once again the birth of the Christ Child became new again, an observance of new hope, new miracles.
Unexpectedly Rebecca felt her own babe stir inside of her. Mark’s and her second child was expected to make his appearance in the world near the end of April, and soon the fourth bedroom in their “dream house” by the millpond would become the new nursery.
“I just felt the baby kick,” she whispered to Mark again. “That’s the second time now.”
He placed his hand over her abdomen, nodded, and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Active little guy . . . gonna have to be to keep up with his sisters . . .”
This time Mark and Rebecca had elected to know the gender of their child, and to their mutual delight, the ultrasound test had indicated it was a boy.
The children’s Christmas caroling gave way to their presentation of the Nativity, followed by a prayer and Christmas Eve message from Pastor Al. While the pastor spoke with passion about the Christmas miracle, Rebecca’s thoughts skirted back to Benny, and she silently gave thanks for the miracle that had been wrought in his life. Although Benny had been found guilty of second-degree arson, he’d served his jail sentence with dignity and sincere remorse. Later after he’d been released, he’d sought the help of a skilled Christian counselor and joined a church in L.A.
Now he was living with his wife of a mere three months, one of Galaxy Production’s former movie directors. Soon after Benny and Millie’s wedding, which Rebecca and Mark had flown to L.A. to attend, the newlyweds had started their own business selling antiques. Benny had written in his Christmas card that they were very much in love and work at their shop was going well.
The halfway house was thriving also. Several of the members had already been released, had found full-time jobs, and were rebuilding their lives. Mark worked hard overseeing its operation, but he’d found great satisfaction knowing his work had finally come to fruition.
The melodic strains of the organ sliced through Rebecca’s thoughts. Soon Pastor Al offered up a closing prayer, the children’s choir filed back down the center aisle, and the folks in the congregation moved outside. Near the front door, Mark and Rebecca chatted with the several friends they’d made from within the congregation—no longer just Mark’s friends, but now their shared friends as a couple.
“Merry Christmas! God’s peace.” The shared greeting hung in the chilly December air as the churchgoers bade each other goodnight and made their way out to their waiting cars.
“Yes, Merry Christmas, honey,” Mark said again later at home after the children were tucked away in their beds. Snuggled up to each other, Mark and Rebecca sipped chilled eggnog, sprinkled with nutmeg, and gazed in wonder at the Christmas tree they’d just finished decorating a few days earlier. Tiny multi-colored lights sparkled against deep emerald-green fir branches. An angel in white graced the tip. “Every Christmas I spend with you and our beautiful little family,” he added, “makes me happier than the Christmas before.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, my darling, my forever love,” Rebecca said back. “I’m happier than you’ll ever know, too.”
As the baby kicked again inside of her, she gave silent thanks for still another Christmas miracle.
The End
About the Author
Sydell Voeller grew up in Washington State, but has lived in Oregon for over thirty years. Throughout her twenty-plus year writing career, her published novels for teens and adults have reflected her love for the Pacific Northwest’s ocean beaches, inlets and waterways, evergreen forests, and majestic mountains. Sydell resides in Oregon with her husband. They married in 1971 and have two sons and four grandchildren.
Pet lovers, the Voellers have provided a home for several cats, a dog, gerbils, hamsters, and a turtle—but not all at the same time! A small rodent cemetery still occupies one corner of their backyard. Sydell and her husband enjoy camping, reading, playing Scrabble trips to the Oregon coast, and spending time with their grandchildren.
When Sydell isn’t writing, she enjoys walking, amateur astronomy, gardening, and staying in touch with friends—Internet and otherwise! In 1987 after the publication of her first novel, she was named by the Washington County Mushaw Center, Woman of the Year in Communications.
Formerly a registered nurse, Sydell now teaches writing courses sponsored by the Long Ridge Writer’s Institute (a long distance course in writing short stories and articles) in West Redding, Connecticut.
Also from Books We Love
The Fisherman’s Daughter
Summer Magic
Her Sister’s Keeper
Sandcastles of Love
Free to Love
Note From The Publisher:
Thank you for purchasing and reading this Books We Love eBook. We hope you have enjoyed your reading experience. Books We Love and the author would very much appreciate you returning to the online retailer where you purchased this book and leaving a review for the author. Best Regards and Happy Reading, Jamie and Jude
Books We Love Ltd.
http://bookswelove.net
* * *
Top quality books loved by readers,
Romance, Mystery, Fantasy, Young Adult
Vampires, Werewolves, Cops, Lovers.
* * *
Looking for Something Spicier
for Sexy Spicy Selections
Books We Love Spice
http://spicewelove.com