A Family For Jana
A Family For Jana
Eileen Berger
Between struggling to balance school and parenthood, Jana Jenson's hands were full. The single mother was not in the market for romance–especially after experiencing the heartache of having her son's father abandon her.Still, Jana was grateful for the support of the Sylvan Falls community, particularly the kindness of handsome college professor Ray Hawkins….Although a painful lesson from the past had taught Ray to guard his heart, he couldn't get Jana off his mind. He wanted to shower her with affection and favor her son with the fatherly attention he'd missed. With the ready-made family by his side, he could imagine happily-ever-after was possible. But could he and Jana find strength from above to heal their hurts and face their pasts when their newfound happiness was threatened?
Ray wondered if there was something special about Jana that was getting through to him.
She was certainly beautiful, but so were a number of other acquaintances, and none of them had made him this introspective. Had she said or done anything that set her apart from all others?
Yet when he closed his eyes, he could still see her there on the hospital bed, her arm around her little son who’d been so very ill, even in sleep cuddling, holding, loving him. Had something that simple, that basic, brought into focus Ray’s own need for closeness?
He wanted to be with Jana, to talk with her, to get to know her for who she really was—not only as an excellent student and loving mother, but apparently a good friend to the other young mothers she’d lived with. And her appreciation of and love for her Gram was also in her favor.
Ray couldn’t sort out his thoughts. For someone who prided himself on his clear thinking, on being able to concentrate on whatever he chose and push from his consciousness things that would interfere, this was almost intolerable!
EILEEN BERGER
has always loved fiction, and even as a teen promised herself that she’d someday write a novel. However, that had to be put on hold as she earned degrees from Bucknell and Temple Universities, then headed up a pathology laboratory in Michigan.
She later married Bob, whom she’d known since childhood, and moved back to north central Pennsylvania, only about twenty miles from where they’d grown up. She did then write several novels, which didn’t sell, although hundreds of articles, short stories and poems were published. It was only in the nineties that her first novels were published—and the one in your hands now is number thirteen.
Eileen is active in writing circles, especially St. Davids Christian Writers Association, whose excellent annual conference is the second oldest and one of the most prestigious of those in America, and possibly in the world.
She says that without these wonderful, caring writers, instructors, co-workers and friends, her career as a Christian writer would have been not only less successful, but much more lonely.
A Family for Jana
Eileen Berger
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear friends, let us love one another,
for love comes from God and knows God.
—I John 4:7
This book is dedicated
to
our blessed grandsons,
Nathanael,
Isaac,
Samuel
and
Karl,
with many prayers and much love,
from your
Grandmother.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
Jana Jenson felt heat rising up her neck and face. She’d heard titters, which called her wandering thoughts back from the hospital; looking toward the front of the college classroom, she realized that Professor Hawkins was staring at her, right eyebrow raised quizzically. “I’m sorry, Dr. Hawkins, did you—ask me something?”
“Yes, I did, Miss Jenson, and….”
She knew better than to interrupt, but it seemed necessary to explain. “My three-year-old son was very sick during the night, and I had to take him to the hospital. My mind was with him, wondering how he’s doing without me there in the pediatric department.”
There was a moment’s silence, but she was looking at her college embryology textbook, fighting for composure. She felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, and heard the encouraging voice of Todd Livingston, who was sitting behind her. “I’m sorry, Jana—we all are.”
She nodded to show she’d heard and raised her left hand to cover his for a moment in nonverbal thanks. Linda, on her left, asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Jana risked a glance at the professor, not knowing if he’d be offended if she continued, but others were also asking questions. “Michael’s been having increasingly bad attacks of croup during this past year. I usually get it under control by filling the bathroom with steam and sitting there with him as the medicine takes effect, but last night even that didn’t bring relief.”
She swallowed the unshed tears, which felt as though they were about to choke her. “I finally called nine-one-one, and the paramedics came—and took him by ambulance….” She was still not over the panic, the fear of losing this child for whom she’d already given up so much—her baby, for whom she’d gladly give her life.
“Is he all right now?” Todd asked.
Jana wished she could be sure of that. “He was some better when I left him—” she glanced at her watch “—about forty minutes ago. He’s no longer critical, they tell me. Otherwise—” she looked directly at Dr. Hawkins “—I’ll admit that I would not be here today.”
His expression had changed, and he looked as though about to respond, but Linda was asking, “How will you manage when he gets home again? Do you have your mother—or someone?”
This question she could readily answer. “Gram will take care of things.” But no, Jana wouldn’t go into further details concerning what she owed that wonderful woman who, though not a blood relative, had done so much for her. Gram had far more than filled the void in her life when she was forced to leave home because of dis-obeying her parents’ command. And I have no regrets as to having made that decision!
She tried to force herself to pay close attention to the rest of the lecture. Meiosis. It was undoubtedly a fascinating subject, and she really did want to learn more about the study of which one of each pair of homologous chromosomes goes to each daughter cell. However, as troubled as she was, Jana couldn’t fully concentrate on the lecture.
Class was finally over, and Todd and Linda waited as Jana gathered her things. However, as they passed the large, centrally located front table, Dr. Hawkins asked, “May I please speak with you, Jana?”
That was the first time he’d called her by her given name. Glancing toward her companions, who nodded and left, she hugged her books close to her chest. “Of course.”
Taking a couple steps around the table, he looked into her eyes and said, “I would like to apologize for embarrassing you.”
She wasn’t convinced he was sorry but would try to give him the benefit of the doubt. “It’s all right.”
Perhaps he sensed her reservations. “I should have just gone on with the class, not waited for you to respond.”
She met his gaze. “I may be setting myself up for an F, Professor, but—” I shouldn’t be saying this—I need good marks to keep my scholarship “—I believe you sometimes enjoy playing to your audience.”
His eyelids flickered, then steadied, and she clutched her books closer, sure she’d made a major error in saying that. But then what appeared to be a rueful smile twisted his lips. “Ah, you are a courageous one, Jana Jenson—but I assure you that, though I may be guilty of sometimes playing to my audience, as you so succinctly put it, I never penalize someone for having the courage to speak the truth. There are few who would take that risk.”
His smile seemed to become more sincere, and his right hand cupped her left elbow. “I promise to try doing better—and hereby give permission for you to hold me accountable if I slip up.”
She started to relax, and her responding smile felt as genuine as his now looked. Continuing to hold her books in her left arm, she impulsively thrust out her other hand. “I will cheerfully accept that responsibility, Dr. Hawkins.”
His grip was firm, and he started to say something else, but she’d glanced at the wall clock, appalled. “Oh, no! I must call the hospital before going to my other class this morning! I’m going to be late.”
He lightly tugged the hand he was still holding as he headed for the door. “My office is right down this hallway. You might as well call from there.”
Todd and Linda were waiting outside, their concerned looks changing to puzzlement, then relief as Jana said, “Dr. Hawkins offered the use of his office phone so I can call the hospital. If Michael’s okay, I’ll run over to Richards Hall for my next class.”
Linda nodded. “Any chance of making the noon meeting?”
“Not today.” She shook her head. “Perhaps tomorrow, if he’s a whole lot better.”
“You have meetings each day?” the professor asked as they walked rapidly down the hall.
He was probably just making conversation, but she could, too. “It’s available each noon, but I usually make it only once or twice a week.”
“Noon meetings?”
“Uh-huh. The Christian Association has done this for years.”
“What do—?” But he interrupted himself by inserting the key he’d taken from his pocket, opening the door, turning on the light and indicating the desk phone. “It’s all yours.”
It took only moments to get through to the pediatric department and learn that Michael was asleep. He appeared to be better, although he was still coughing and wheezing some—but that was to be expected, she was told.
“He’s apparently doing okay, and sleeping right now,” she told the man beside her as she replaced the phone. She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then relaxed a bit. “It’s so scary, especially at night—which is when it almost always happens. I’m grateful that he’s healthy otherwise, and active. Once he’s over even a serious attack, he quickly bounces back.”
“I’m glad.”
“And I must dash!” She was outside the room as she called over her shoulder, “Thanks for the use of your phone.”
Raymond Hawkins stood in his doorway watching the hodgepodge of students, like Jana, rushing to get to their next class. She hurried through the exterior door of the building, and through the glass making up the far side of the covered passageway he saw her leap over the border of blooming tulips and daffodils and run across the grass to save a few seconds.
Only when the door to Richards Hall closed behind her did he turn back to his own office, shut the door, lean back against it—and catch himself sighing. He knew nothing about Jana Jenson—well, almost nothing. He’d noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring but, until a few minutes ago, had no idea she was the mother of a three-year-old.
And she had guts!
He’d been too aware of her from that very first day in his class. She was incredibly beautiful, with those wide, intense, dark blue eyes and slightly wavy hair the color of that well-pulled brown sugar-taffy he and his sister used to help their mother make each year between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
How long has it been since I’ve thought of doing that—or of eating it? Is it because of her speaking so lovingly of Gram, who would help care for little Michael?
He started going over test papers from the morning’s first class, an advanced one on the human endocrine system, and was pleased that most students were doing well. That class and the one just ended were his favorite courses, partly because of his personal interest, but also because they were electives, so the students taking them were those with a genuine interest in the subjects.
He’d known he would have to mostly teach required subjects for at least the first years of his career. This was his fourth year—since those in power agreed to count that first one, when he’d taken over in early October for a professor who had a massive heart attack. These two courses he’d asked for two years later were something of a reward, he thought, and they made such a difference!
Jana must be older than she looks—or else she had her child when very young. He was surprised to realize his thoughts had reverted to her—and was almost glad when the phone rang and he had to take care of some detailed information. That was much safer than continuing to think of that gorgeous junior. Or might she be only a sophomore?
He did wonder about her. No, she was definitely not wearing a ring on her left hand—and she had a three-year-old son.
And she was evidently a Christian….
Jana slid into the empty seat immediately inside the doorway and, grateful to find the class just beginning, quickly opened her notebook. Statistics. She’d taken it because she thought she should, but was discovering she liked it. Whether I use my early-childhood education degree in a school or some other institution, understanding these principles and problems could be invaluable.
Her mind kept wandering; she so wanted to be with Michael, to hold him and sing to him and calm him if he was frightened or lonely. She did manage to drag her thoughts back fairly quickly each time—but it was taking more and more effort to squelch her eagerness to leave.
Class was eventually over, and she drove to the hospital to find Michael no longer lying listlessly against the high-tilted mattress. He was sitting up in bed, and his face became one big smile. “Mama, you’re back!”
“Yes, sweetie, I sure am, and I plan to stay.” She made sure he saw her place her books on his dresser before going to him. “I came as quickly as I possibly could.”
She pulled away as he shoved a small stuffed raccoon into her face. “Look, Mama, Aunt Vanessa brought him, and his name is Raccie.”
She hugged and kissed Michael, which also gave her the opportunity to make sure he didn’t have an elevated temperature along with his wheezing. “That’s a perfect name for him! Did you think of it all by yourself?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, beaming with pride. “I think lots of things all by myself.”
Her knuckles brushed lightly along his jawline. “You certainly do, and that makes me happy.” After lowering the side rail, she sat on the side of his bed. “And now I want to hear all about your morning—what you saw and who you talked with and everything.”
He rattled on about the nurses, a funny TV cartoon, his Aunt Vanessa, who was actually Gram’s granddaughter, the raccoon and Gram’s phoning while Vanessa was there, saying she’d be coming soon. Jana encouraged his enthusiastic report, rejoicing in his communication skills even while being very aware of his continuing cough and breathing difficulties.
At least neither was as bad as before.
It was some time later that she stood up and, walking toward the door, laid her hand on the books. “I’m leaving my stuff here, Michael, while I go down the hall to talk with one of the nurses.”
His little arms reached toward her. “Don’t go, Mama.”
“I’ll be right back, dear.”
His face began to pucker. “Stay with me.”
She wanted to gather him into her arms, but instead stood there smiling, praying that her manner and voice would reassure him. “I promise to come back very, very soon, Michael.”
A tear formed in each eye. “Last time was a long time.”
“I know, Michael—but remember I told you then that I must go to school and I would be gone quite a while—and I was. And this time I’m saying it will be just a little while, okay?”
His lower lip protruded, but she grinned, quickly walked over to put up the bed rail and left immediately, saying cheerfully, “See you in a tiny little bit, my love.”
She did not turn back when he cried, “Mama, come back, come back!” She leaned against the wall and waited to make sure his starting to cough harder didn’t make his wheezing more serious.
“Something wrong, Miss Jenson?” It was one of the older cleaning ladies. “Something wrong with that dear little boy of yours?”
Maybe I’m what’s wrong. Jana glanced at the woman’s name tag before whispering, “I just got back from my classes, Sandra, and need to speak with Michael’s nurse—but he doesn’t want me to leave.”
A big smile covered the woman’s round face, and her hand on Jana’s waist gave a light shove. “We talked a whole lot while I was cleaning his room, so I’m gonna go in there and visit with that little cutie. We’ll make out fine.” She then walked inside, saying, “Hi, Michael. What have you and Raccie been doing since I left?”
Jana smiled with relief as she heard her son answer the question. There are so many wonderful people in Your world, God! Thanks for letting me get to know that—for letting me know them. And help me not to forget to help others….
She spoke first with the secretary, and was even more grateful for Sandra’s being with Michael as she waited several minutes to talk with the nurse. Margery Caldwell appeared harried, but did say that Michael was doing “as well as can be expected at this time.” Nobody had any idea yet when he might go home, certainly not today—but she assured Jana he was over the worst of the attack.
When Jana returned to Michael’s room, Sandra bent over to kiss his cheek. “See, big guy? Your mom’s returned real quick, like she said—and now I’d better get back to my job before I get in trouble.” On the way to the door she took time to add, “And you, Ms. Jenson, don’t worry so much. We’re here to help take care of your little boy.”
“Thanks, Sandra.” Jana reached out to squeeze her hand. “You have no idea how comforting it is to know that.” She put down the side rail and sat on Michael’s bed again as she told him the nurse said he was better.
“Yep.” He nodded. “Better.”
She touched his chest. “Does it hurt here?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yep.”
“Where did you hurt?”
“Here!” His fingertips beat a brief tattoo on his chest, then moved to his throat. “And here.”
The wheezing. And coughing. “Well, since they’re both better now, would you like to get out of bed?”
He was instantly slithering around her, legs already over the edge of the bed as she grabbed him. “Michael, wait a second! Look down there—how far it is to the floor. This is a high bed, not like yours at home with its short legs.”
She convinced him to sit while she got his pajamas and bunny slippers from the bag she’d brought with her. “And as soon as you go to the bathroom, and change out of that gown and into these clothes, we’ll walk in the hall.”
He was so overjoyed at this prospect that it was difficult to keep him still long enough to slide his legs into the pants and his feet into slippers. She held him as he tugged to run down the hallway. Remembering how very sick he’d been during the night, she wasn’t sure how much energy he should be expending.
At the end of the corridor, she lifted him so he could look out the window. “What do you see, Michael?”
“Oh, trees and grass and sidewalks and men and women and cars and streets and a dog….” It was a singsong reply, with all nouns emphasized. “And clouds and shadows and birds and branches—I see lots of things.”
“Yes, dear, you certainly do see lots of things, and I’m glad you showed them to me. I had not even noticed those shadows.” After all, she and Michael were on the fourth floor.
“Lots of shadows—the big, big one’s from the ho’pital, and the littler ones are from trees—but it’s hard seein’ people shadows.”
It seems to me that these are astute observations my three-year-old is making, but what do I know? Until he was born, I hadn’t been around many babies and small children.
They took their time walking to his room, for he had to investigate a wheelchair and climb on it. She pushed him a short distance before returning it to where it had been, and then they proceeded to his room. She let him press the button to raise the top of the bed and, after removing his slippers and her shoes, she lay down beside him to read several of his favorite books. It wasn’t long before his eyelids were getting heavy, but she made no comment about this, just kept on reading until he was sound asleep.
The rail was still up on the other side of the bed, and she hesitated to lower it in case that might awaken him, or might even make him worse. Laying the book on the bedside table, she turned onto her side with her arm around him and closed her eyes. I should use this time for studying, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to rest a few minutes….
Ray Hawkins was not used to making amends—most times he’d found it wasn’t necessary, particularly now that he was a tenured professor at a well-rated institution. However, though Jana Jenson had indicated that she’d accepted his apology, he still didn’t feel good about what he’d done to necessitate it.
Well, he’d discovered for himself the truth of the florists’ ads—that a dozen long-stemmed roses or some seasonal arrangement did seem to please women. He reached for the phone and started to dial that remembered number—but stopped in time.
There was a good possibility that this particular woman would not only see through his sending flowers, but tell him so!
Like she’d done after his class!
Well, then, he’d send flowers to her son; that shouldn’t offend her. He checked with the hospital for the child’s room number before calling the florist to order something suitable for a three-year-old in some clever pot or vase that a little kid would like.
Feeling pleased with himself after his phone conversation, he returned to looking over the material for tomorrow’s classes then, not bothering with lunch, finished checking over the tests from yesterday. He’d asked only one essay question in addition to all those requiring an answer of a few words, so the task was completed in less time than anticipated.
Picking up his briefcase and suit jacket, Ray left his office for the day, locked the door and went to his car.
On the spur of the moment he stopped at the florist’s to check the arrangement he’d ordered—and was annoyed when told that whichever container and flowers might be used, it wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow!
Among the assortment of glass, ceramic and pottery containers, one in particular appealed to him. He’d been a railroad buff for as long as he could remember, his particular interest being steam engines. For the last ten years, ever since he was nineteen, he’d belonged to one, then another railroad club. His present one had not only restored an old station house, but also was in the continuing process of revamping an engine, caboose and various cars.
There was no doubt about it—this little steam engine with its burly black bear engineer and antlered-deer fireman was what he wanted for Michael. And it was after making that decision he belatedly recalled that some croup attacks were triggered by certain flowers or strong scents—so what he’d already ordered could be dangerous.
He carried the ceramic engine to the counter and informed the clerk that instead of flowers he wanted small plants in this container, and he’d wait for it to be made up so he could take it to the hospital himself.
The counter person stated she was too busy to do that right now, but he reminded her that she’d not told him on the phone his order wouldn’t be delivered today. Since he’d have to deliver it himself, he’d just borrow the stool from behind the counter and wait until his order was taken care of.
Seating himself in the busiest part of the shop, he began reading the professional journal that had come the day before, and it was no surprise that his order was made up quickly. He carried it to his car, then headed for the hospital, realizing that even though he should be rooting for the child to already be well enough to go home, he couldn’t help selfishly hoping Michael was still there—and that his mother was with him.
The hospital parking lot was almost full, but someone was pulling out of a spot near the entrance, so he slid into that. He seldom went to hospitals because he found them depressing, but this time he didn’t think of that. He did, however, wonder what in the world he could talk about with a child this young—or with anyone else, for that matter—if Jana wasn’t there. How could he explain to a stranger his personally bringing a gift for this child he’d never met?
He forced himself to get on the elevator when the doors opened—but had there not been people awaiting the exit of whoever pushed the button for the fourth floor, he might have stayed on for a return to the lobby to hand this planter to someone at the front desk. As it was, he stepped into the hallway and stood there for a moment, unsure where to go.
A cheerful older woman wearing a volunteer name tag caught his eye. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. Room four fourteen…?”
She pointed toward his right. “Make a left at the end of this corridor. It’s the third door on the right.”
“Thanks.” But his steps were slow as he followed her instructions. The partially open door showed only the foot of the bed, but as he stepped inside he saw first Jana’s stockinged feet, then legs that were quite worthy of notice! Then there was the blue-and-beige skirt and beige blouse Jana had been wearing this morning—and that lovely oval face.
She was lying on her right side, facing him, arm around a little boy with the same fair skin and sugar-taffy hair. His breathing sounded raspy, but Ray had never just stood and watched a sleeping child. He supposed this might not be too abnormal, though it seemed that the little chest, as observed through the cotton pajamas, was rising and lowering more than he’d have expected. Was it perhaps overfilling—perhaps needing more oxygen than usual?
It occurred to him that, notwithstanding all his studies in biology and human anatomy and physiology, in spite of his degrees and being one of the youngest tenured professors on campus, he knew very little as to three-year-olds—and was intrigued by the possibility of learning more about Michael.
As he already was about the child’s mother.
Ray had, of course, dated through the years, but always tried to keep from developing more than a short-term relationship. After all, his goal had been to get where he was now—so why wasn’t he more contented and fulfilled? Why did he have this something driving him to put more of himself into his work, to demand more and more of himself—and of his students?
Jana shifted, left leg sliding forward enough to again be in contact with her small son’s foot, which had moved away a few inches. Even in sleep she’s aware of needing closeness with the one she loves.
That observation made Ray suck in his breath sharply. Even awake, I seldom make an effort to be close to anyone.
What’s wrong with me today? Maybe I’d better just set this plant on the dresser and get out of here. However, he’d told them at the shop that, since he was hand-delivering it, he didn’t need a notification-of-sender card stuck in his train engine container.
He put the planter on the bedside table and was getting a business card from his wallet when he heard a sigh and saw Jana open her eyes and look right at him. He was sure he’d made no noise; had she sensed his presence?
She did not seem startled or uneasy at his being there, just smiled sleepily. Something caught in his throat, and he had to swallow hard. She looked so young, and innocent, and sweet, lying there with her arm around her sleeping son, and he had a moment of forcing himself to stay where he was.
What he’d been tempted to do was to push the table aside and take the several steps necessary to put his arms around both of them as they lay there on the bed—something he’d never before have considered doing!
Chapter Two
In her dream she’d just relived Dr. Hawkins saying she had his permission to hold him accountable—then here he was, a few feet away. She smiled lazily, then sobered as she realized where she was, lying in bed with her arm around her son, who’d been so sick.
“Oh….” It was an almost silent interjection as she cautiously straightened her arm, made sure her skirt was covering her thighs, then rolled over to sit on the side of the bed. “I—didn’t know you were here,” she whispered.
His voice was equally soft. “I just arrived, and I’m glad you were able to sleep. You must have needed it.”
She stood up. “I was awake all night.”
“Well, I—uh…” He looked almost embarrassed as he picked up the ceramic train engine holding several green plants. “I hoped that maybe your son—your Michael would like this. He’s not allergic to just foliage, is he?”
This man is really ill at ease—and I’ve seen that twice today. I never suspected…. Jana held the gift in both hands. “This is lovely, and I appreciate your considering possible allergies. Several of his worst attacks followed being around Easter lilies, poinsettias and mums—and I suspect carnations, though that was only once.”
“Is there anything you can do to control it—shots or anything?”
“It was discussed the last time we were at his pediatrician’s—and we’re scheduled to see the allergist next week.” She glanced toward the calendar on the wall. “Which reminds me to call him today.”
They’d moved across the room so they wouldn’t be as apt to wake the sleeping child, and she was in the doorway when she saw Gram come around the corner. Jana hurried to meet her and put her arms around the older woman, who was asking, “How is our little sweetheart?”
“Much better! He’s still wheezing, but has been sleeping for well over an hour. He hasn’t coughed much during that time.”
“Good!” But then she cautioned, “Don’t be alarmed, though, if he does some when he gets awake.”
“I realize he’s probably continuing to produce phlegm, and his body will try to loosen it.” She briefly wondered about the best way to account for this man being here and decided on making a simple, straightforward introduction. “Gram, this is Dr. Raymond Hawkins. Professor Hawkins, I’d like you to meet Mrs. MaryJean McHenry, one of the most special people I’ve ever known.”
“Ah, yes, the biology professor,” Gram said, not looking at all surprised as she stretched out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dr. Hawkins.”
He took the necessary step forward to clasp her hand. “And I’m honored to meet you, Mrs. McHenry.”
Gram admired the planter. “Some of our relatives were involved with railroads. There used to be a short line that ran right through Sylvan Falls, which accounts for our still having a Railroad Street.”
This definitely got his attention, for he asked a number of questions. It was some time later when Gram asked, “Have you eaten anything, Jana?”
“I was in too much of a hurry to get back here, then didn’t want to leave Michael.”
Gram stood there shaking her head. “Look, dear, you’ve got to start taking care of yourself, not only for your sake, but his.”
“Granted, but there seem to be exceptions to even the most logical of rules.” She smiled. “And, really, that little nap I had with him did me more good than a multicourse dinner.”
“Could be.” Gram wasn’t about to argue, but looked toward Ray. “Why don’t you take Jana down to the cafeteria while I’m here to stay with Michael?”
“Gram!” She was mortified at Gram’s asking him to do that. “Dr. Hawkins is a busy man. He doesn’t have to escort me downstairs!”
But Ray was saying at the same time, “That’s a great suggestion, Mrs. McHenry—especially since I also neglected to eat.”
“But—”
“I don’t enjoy always eating alone, Jana, and this is close enough to the evening meal that a sandwich or dish of ice cream later will take care of that.”
His smile was almost boyish, and there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye. Jana still didn’t feel right about this, but replied, “Wel-l-l, since we both do need to eat, I guess it makes sense to do it now. But if Michael’s at all upset about my leaving….”
Gram laughed and raised her hand as though taking an oath. “My dear Jana, I promise to take good care of him.”
“I’m sorry. You know more about babies and children than I ever will. It’s just that I was so scared last night and this morning.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? I was, too.”
Michael had flopped over on the bed to where Jana had recently been lying, and she wondered if by any chance she’d left some scent there—if it was more than happenstance that made the sleeping child seem to relax. Her arms ached with the almost irrepressible urge to gather her son close, to hold him, but she picked up her small purse and led the way from the room.
They engaged in small talk about college activities. No, she was not involved with any clubs or organizations—except for that noon meeting, which she sometimes attended when staying for an afternoon lab or to work at the library. She’d had no expectation of continuing to talk about that, but did when he asked another question. “It’s quite informal. Different people volunteer to read a scripture and share thoughts, and then there’s always some discussion and a time of prayer.”
“Do you volunteer?”
She glanced at him as she led the way into the empty elevator. “Not yet, though I should, for it’s been helpful for me.”
She wondered if he’d like it, but had no way of knowing, since he changed the subject to something he’d recently read about in an endocrinology journal as they entered the cafeteria.
She’d expected to have just a bowl of soup and a sandwich, but he talked her into a full meal when he said, “What are the odds that your little one won’t want you leaving to eat later?”
“You’re right, of course. And by then Gram will be back in Sylvan Falls.”
“You’re not going to stay here again tonight, are you?”
“I don’t expect to, not unless Michael gets worse, which could happen. His attacks usually don’t begin until after eleven, most frequently between midnight and two.”
“You plan to stay that long?”
He sounded concerned, and she shook her head. “Just until he’s asleep—if he’s still doing this well. He’s ordinarily a good sleeper, so I’m praying we’ll both rest well tonight.”
He nodded, but didn’t commit himself to praying for that, as some of her friends might have. For that matter, she had no way of knowing whether he even believed in prayer.
They were sitting across from one another at one of the small square tables when she asked, “Do you have a family?”
He shrugged. “Parents—in Wisconsin, and a sister in Pittsburgh. I don’t see as much of them as I’d like.”
“Oh?” I shouldn’t have said that—it’s none of my business.
“We’re all busy with one thing or another.” He seemed to study her before adding, “While working on my degrees, I never had much time for visiting and, though we keep saying we’re going to, we’ve sort of got out of the habit of making the effort.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I take it you have strong family ties.”
“No.” I shouldn’t have started this conversation. “We don’t.”
His brows rose, making horizontal furrows above them. “If I had a grandmother like yours, I’d count myself lucky.”
“I do count myself blessed to have Gram. She’s one of the most loving, remarkable women in the world. But she’s not….”
“She’s not…?”
Why can’t I learn to think before speaking? “It’s nothing.”
Although one part of her didn’t want to say anything more, Ray sat there waiting for her to continue. She finally murmured. “She’s not a blood relative, though I wish she were. She took me in when I needed a place to stay.”
Ray’s instincts told him not to push this, to let the matter lie, but he could not force himself to eat the food on his fork.
Her gaze had been turned downward when she said that, but lifted, perhaps reluctantly, to meet his. There was such pain there that his hand reached over to cover hers. “It’s okay, Jana. You don’t owe me explanations.”
Her lids flickered, then steadied as she drew in a quick, sharp breath and gave a nod. Neither said anything more for what seemed a long time, and then, after she asked him to pass the salt, he changed the subject to trains.
Ray inquired as to whether she’d been to Steamtown National Park, and when she answered negatively he spent much of the rest of their time together sharing what that was like and talking about specific engines. It didn’t matter right then if she was even interested; it was something to say, something to fill that dangerous bog into which they’d almost fallen.
He’d expected to go upstairs to Michael’s room with her, but as the elevator doors opened she thanked him for the gift to her son and for the meal he’d insisted on paying for even though she had stated she’d prefer doing that herself.
Well, I’ve now blown it twice today as far as she’s concerned! That was not a happy thought as the door closed behind her and he turned to cross the lobby alone. The first time had been because of superciliousness, but perhaps his inquisitiveness might be just as bad, or worse.
He considered following her, and even reached to push the elevator’s up button, but stopped in time. Gram was undoubtedly still there, her little boy might be awake—and what could he say or do to make things better, anyway? I guess the only thing is to hope for the best in class tomorrow. But if her friends are with her when she leaves, like today, it would only embarrass her if I apologize for making such a fool of myself this second time.
Gram was holding Michael on her lap, reading one of the books she’d brought. He looked over and started talking even while removing his thumb from his mouth. “Gram’s reading Mr. Hoppity’s Happiest Harvest, my extra-fav’rite special book.”
Jana ran her fingers across the top of his head, relishing the caress of the fine, golden-brown hair slipping between them. “That’s one of my favorites, too.”
Squirming around, he pointed toward the straight chair near them. “Gram can read to you, too, Mama.”
“I’d like that, but there are things I should read for my classes. If that’s all right with you, Gram.”
“I’m staying for another hour or so.” Gram smiled encouragement. “You do your thing, dear, and Michael and I will do ours, ’cause we just love to read books.”
He leaned against her shoulder and, just before his thumb returned to his mouth, agreed, “Yep, me and Gram just love reading books.”
Jana smiled at the two people she loved most in the world and carried her books and notebook to the plastic chair by the window. Thanks, God, for Michael’s being so much better, and thanks for Gram, with all her goodness and love. And please help me use this next hour or so efficiently, because I don’t know how much more time I’ll have to study.
One of the many good things about living at Gram’s was that she’d been forced to compartmentalize. There were people around all the time, and so many activities—especially with the children!—that she’d never have survived these college years had she not been able to fix her attention on just one or two things at a time, while yet not being blind to her surroundings.
She finished the reading assignments and was working on problems for statistics when Gram got to her feet and said she’d have to leave. Michael wasn’t happy about that, clinging to her and begging her to stay. It was hard for Jana not to get involved, but she was glad she’d refrained when Gram set the crying child on his bed and took both of his little hands in hers. “Michael, dear, you know I always tell you the truth, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh. But….”
“And I’ve already told you that either you will come home to be with me tomorrow, or I will come here and be with you, right?”
“Uh-huh, but…” He tried again.
“But right now, I am needed at home.”
Tears ran down his cheeks, but he nodded.
After Gram left, Jana read several more books to him then, at the beginning of the hour, checked through various TV channels until she found one suitable for her son to watch as she worked on assignments.
He pushed the evening meal away when an aide brought it, but his program was so filled with fast action that Jana was able to spoon food into his mouth without his realizing it.
She never did this at home—didn’t have to; he was an excellent eater, and nobody watched TV at mealtime. So much conversation took place around Gram’s big kitchen table that there wouldn’t be time to stare at a television screen.
They took another walk past the elevators and to the end of the long hallway. At first she tried to go slowly, not wanting increased activity to give Michael a setback, but that didn’t last long; even when several of the staff greeted him by name, he was too busy investigating gurneys, potted plants, wheelchairs and other things to remain long with anyone.
He slowed down some as they neared his room again, but he didn’t complain about being put back in his bed since she lay down beside him. This, too, she usually didn’t do, but Jana wanted to make things as easy as possible for him in this strange place. She was just starting another book when Gram’s granddaughter, Karlyn, came to visit.
Michael was yawning by the time Karlyn left. Jana explained that she’d be going home later so he could sleep better in his bed but she’d be back in the morning—probably before they brought breakfast. In the meantime, she took him to the bathroom after he drank the orange juice and ate several graham crackers brought to him by an aide, then said she’d lie beside him to read some more.
She finally stated, with a deliberately obvious yawn, that she was very tired—but did have to struggle to keep from dropping off before he did!
It was almost too dark to see the multicolored flowers of bulbs and trees and golden forsythia as Jana drove home through the late April evening. She of course recognized the cars parked by the curb in front of Gram’s house, so she knew AnnaMae and Kate had come to pick up their children.
Barb had offered to cover for Jana in giving childcare this afternoon, and it seemed almost incomprehensible that, at first, the two of them had not got along well. They were as close as sisters now, probably closer than many siblings—but then they’d been two lonely, scared, pregnant sixteen-year-olds whom Gram had taken into her home, along with the three slightly older girls in the same situation, Kate, AnnaMae and Ricki.
Barb came onto the veranda as Jana started up the walk to Gram’s huge old Victorian house. “How’s our little sweetheart?”
“Although he continues to cough and wheeze some, he seems good, and everyone thinks he’s okay. If he gets through tonight without an attack, perhaps he’ll come home tomorrow.” She climbed the front steps. “What about things here?”
“Mary has a runny nose, but seems to feel all right. I don’t think she’s coming down with a cold. And the other kids are fine.”
Jana nodded toward the cars out front. “I see AnnaMae and Kate have come for their little ones.”
“And Ricki was covering this evening, so they’ll all soon be gone.”
They entered the large front hall and were greeted by the three children. Jana laid her purse on the floor as she got down on her knees to hug them. “I missed you guys,” she said, kissing each of them.
Their mothers came from the kitchen to get the latest update on Michael before leaving for the night—and suddenly it seemed very quiet with just the three adults. Gram looked around. “It’s almost lonely with no children in the house.”
Barb nodded. “It seems eons ago when it was just you, Gram and us five teens.”
“And much longer when I was living alone here.” She sighed. “Thank goodness I didn’t fully realize what I was missing.”
Jana remembered how frightened she’d been before coming here as one of the five pregnant teens Gram had taken under her wing. At that time, it had been considered a safe haven where they could stay until their babies were born—after which each infant would go to adoptive parents.
But she didn’t want to think about that now. “To hear your family, especially your granddaughter, Andi, tell it, you kept just as busy then!”
“I enjoyed everything I was doing, but not nearly as much as having you and the other girls and the little ones around.”
Jana had no doubt that was true, and her arm slid around the older woman’s trim waist. “I got to thinking last night that what we call you is also your title, your profession. You are Gram to half the people in Sylvan Falls—but especially to us!”
“What a sweet thing to say. I don’t deserve it, but I’ll treasure it anyway.” She beamed at Jana, smiled at Barb and headed for the kitchen. “Come get a piece of apple pie, then you get to bed, Jana. I’m sure you need your rest!”
“Sounds like two wonderful ideas.” She followed Gram and Barb and thoroughly enjoyed the dessert. Getting up from the table a little later, Jana remembered to tell them, “I’m setting my alarm for the last possible moment—so don’t think I’ve overslept.”
But her final thoughts before falling asleep were about Dr. Ray Hawkins bringing the plants to the hospital for her son, and of his being so kind, so nice as they ate together.
Having planned to be in the classroom earlier than usual, Ray considered not answering the phone as he was leaving his office. But he did, and the message was important; however, he still begrudged the time.
All the students were seated before he arrived, but he had no difficulty spotting Jana, halfway back in the middle row. Laying down his books, he asked, even while walking around the front table, “I trust your son is better this morning, Ms. Jenson?”
She looked startled, and he wondered if that was because, although always willing to answer anything or talk about science, he almost always stuck to lesson material. He hoped she’d recognized this as something of a public apology on his part when she answered, “Yes, thank you. Michael’s improved so much that we hope he’ll be discharged today.”
“Good!” Ray commented, then proceeded to begin the day’s lesson.
After the class was over, Todd and Linda walked out with Jana again. Ray couldn’t control the spontaneous smile that came to his face as she passed his table—and was inordinately pleased that her responding one seemed genuine. But even with that beautiful smile of hers, I’m afraid she won’t forget yesterday. It’s not appropriate for me to ask her to have lunch with me—especially in front of her friends. Anyway, I shouldn’t even consider becoming friends with a young woman who’s the mother of a small child!
Is there a husband somewhere? Has she ever had one? I know that’s not supposed to matter anymore, but it does to me. And I don’t know a thing about small children and shouldn’t even be thinking of that child—or his mother. Which, as the day went on, he found to be a difficult resolution to keep.
“Are you staying for the meeting today, Jana?” Todd asked, walking over to Richards Hall with her.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“It’s not much more than an hour from now.”
“I know. Somehow Michael’s illness seems to have driven away other thoughts—not that God isn’t even more important, but….”
“I wasn’t being judgmental. It’s just that I was hoping you’d be there today.”
“Especially today?”
“Well, yes.” His grin was a bit lopsided. “I’m the one leading devotions.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “In that case, I’ll surely come. This will be my first time to hear you do that.”
“I’ve never volunteered before and I’ll admit to being sort of scared—at least nervous.”
“I would be, too, yet we both know there’s no one there to critique you. Everyone’s encouraging—supportive.”
“You haven’t volunteered, either.”
“And I probably won’t. Public speaking doesn’t seem to be one of my gifts.”
“I felt that way, too, then got to thinking I shouldn’t just keep receiving. It was time for giving, too.”
“Then it’s right for you,” she agreed. “But thus far I haven’t been convinced of that for me.”
She thought for a moment that he was about to argue, but they were nearing her classroom, so she gave him a smile and went inside. I know he has other friends there, but it must mean something to him for me to be supportive, too.
The professor gave a pop quiz at the beginning of class, making Jana especially grateful for having disciplined herself to do that assignment.
Class ran a bit late, so by the time she got to the lounge in Sanderson Dorm where the noon meeting was held the circle of seats was nearly full. These get-togethers were always informal. Today, like most others, the two choruses they sang were unaccompanied, yet harmonized.
Jana had been in the junior high and senior high choruses back home and had been chosen to sing solos several times—but she mustn’t think about such enjoyable things now. That was a different place and a different time; she and her parents had been on reasonably good terms then.
Before she got pregnant. Before she had to leave home. Before her comfortable world had fallen apart.
Todd asked one of the freshmen to read a chosen scripture, and a senior led in prayer. He then went directly into his fifteen-minute meditation on reaching out to others, to being a friend under all situations. He seemed to glance toward Jana more than she wished, but she considered the talk good, especially for a first one. She commended him on this before hurrying home.
Gram had brought Michael home from the hospital in mid-morning, and he was already taking his afternoon nap by the time Jana got there. Although Gram reported that he seemed to be doing all right, Jana tiptoed in to gently place her hand against his forehead and on his chest to verify that his temperature and breathing were normal.
Downstairs, she took over her shift as baby-sitter. In addition to the four children who were usually here, Gram’s great-granddaughter, Katherine, had been brought by her father, Keith.
Ricki had left for her part-time job after explaining that her daughter, Debbie, seemed more fussy than usual. “She’s not running an elevated temp or anything, and Gram and I don’t think she’s coming down with anything. She insisted she wasn’t sleepy, but you know what an agreeable doll she usually is. I put her to bed anyway and hope for your sake, as well as hers, that she’s in a better mood when she gets up.”
Gram was spending time at the library with her literacy volunteer work. She’d not done this for the last several years, but with everyone pulling together so well, she’d decided to get back to the work she so loved.
Jana opened her books on the kitchen table, realizing chances were good that at least one of the five children would soon be waking. Then she went upstairs to the room she shared with her son, opened the desk drawer as silently as possible and removed several boxes to take downstairs.
She didn’t find what she wanted in the assortment of greetings, but among her note cards was a black-and-white sketch of a steam engine pulling a coal car and an assortment of others, including passenger, box, container, flatbed and animal—and there was also, of course, a caboose.
A smile was on her face while writing the thank-you note to Ray, and she’d still heard no sounds from upstairs by the time the envelope was sealed, stamped and carried to the front porch. Today’s mail had not yet been delivered, so Jana clipped her envelope to the wall-mounted mailbox for pickup.
She disciplined herself to write a brief letter to her parents, as she’d promised herself to do each week, even though she had heard nothing from them for all these years. She always had her return address on the envelope, and none had been returned so, still hoping they were being read, she continued to write, each missive accompanied by a prayer for reconciliation.
Both Mother and Dad had told her that if she didn’t care enough for them to do as they commanded, to have that abortion, they would no longer consider her to be their daughter. However, she’d continued to inform them of most things, especially of Michael’s birth, of her graduation from high school and of being almost finished with her third year of college.
She’d sent photocopies of report cards, but those consistently above 3.5 grade point averages got no more acknowledgment than had the announcement of the birth of their only grandchild. Nevertheless, she wrote a few lines about Michael’s recent hospitalization and his being home again.
Her studying wasn’t completed, but at least she’d made a good start on the second subject before going upstairs to bring down the first two children. Everything was left on the table in case she might have a few more minutes this afternoon, although that was unlikely. Whatever was undone by then would be tackled again after the little girls went home and Michael was put to bed for the night—if she could stay awake and alert enough to do so.
Chapter Three
Ray had gone over his notes for the next class and was treating himself to a break—reading the lead article in the current Trains magazine. Lost in the account of an early logging railroad, he barely looked up when the student serving as today’s deliverer of faculty mail tapped on his nearly closed door. “You got lots of stuff this morning, Professor.”
“Thanks.” He reached for the rubber-banded bundle and started to set it on the corner of the desk when he noticed the hand-addressed square envelope with no return address.
He slit it open with the slender ivory knife given to him by his grandfather years before and smiled when he pulled out the enclosed card. He guessed from whom it came before unfolding it. Who else would choose one with that fanciful picture of a train? The message was relatively informal:
Dear Dr. Hawkins,
Michael and I would like to thank you again for your thoughtfulness in choosing and delivering the delightful train-engine container and plants. He has loved trains ever since I first read to him the book Terry Tooter, and he has several picture books featuring them.
I also appreciate your giving so generously of your time and concern in seeing to it that I ate lunch—my dinner, actually.
My son is home again now and seems to be doing well.
And I want to apologize for my almost-yawn in class. Believe me, I have never been bored there; you are an excellent teacher, and I’m grateful for the opportunity of being one of your students.
Sincerely,
Jana Jenson
He smiled and read the card twice before sliding it back into its envelope and opening the top center drawer of his desk. Instead of placing it there, however, he tucked it into his shirt pocket, glanced at the wall clock and started for his classroom. Jana arrived perhaps a minute later with her friend Linda Patterson; although they both greeted him with a good morning, he was annoyed at his response coming out so stupidly imitative!
By the middle of the period he knew he must make an opportunity to speak with her. After all, this was Friday; tonight was his monthly train meeting.
Jana had not exaggerated in writing that she liked his teaching; Dr. Hawkins was enthusiastic about his subject, and she always made notes of material he shared with them from current journals. He’d horrified many when his first test included questions based on this information as well as what was in textbooks, but she’d answered everything correctly; she, too, was fascinated by human embryology.
The fifty minutes passed almost too quickly, and she started forward by herself as Todd and Linda were discussing something with another student. As she passed the front table, Dr. Hawkins asked how Michael was this morning. She paused long enough to say that he seemed almost as good as normal. “Little ones bounce back much faster than a parent does.”
“Although they feel rotten, I guess maybe they don’t worry about it like adults.”
“That does make a huge difference,” she agreed. “And there’s no way to keep him from running and playing hard with the other children—which may be good. As shook-up as I was, I’d undoubtedly be overprotective.”
The other three students had left the classroom but, though out of sight in the hallway, they were talking and laughing nearby. Suddenly, Dr. Hawkins cleared his throat and said, “Look, Jana, our railroad meeting’s tonight. It starts at six with a catered buffet, then there’s a program with slides concerning one of this region’s short line railroads. Perhaps it would be good for you to get away from things for a bit, and I think you’d enjoy it, and the people….”
He’d spoken quietly but more rapidly than usual, and he was obviously ill at ease, which made her hesitate. The situation became more awkward when he added, “I’d like to take you with me.”
I can hardly believe this. “I may be needed at home.”
“Could you call and see if your grandmother or someone could take care of things?” A strained look crossed his face as he amended, “Take care of your son?”
Her books had been held tight against her chest, and she consciously tried to relax a little, pleased to be asked but cautious. “I haven’t dated for a very long time, Dr. Hawkins, and….”
“You needn’t think of this as a date, maybe just—you know, having a change of pace, hearing and seeing things unconnected with sickness or classes or anything.”
I’d have laughed had anyone suggested that this man would ask me out—and that I’d be tempted to go! But I would enjoy doing something different, and I do like what I know of him.
He pulled back the hand that had seemed to start reaching toward her and suggested, “You can phone from my office.”
Two of the students in the hallway had moved on, but Todd was there and took a step in their direction. He had perhaps noted the hand almost touching her arm, so she spoke before he could. “I’m going to use the professor’s phone again, Todd, to check on Michael.”
His questioning look changed to concern. “Is he worse?”
“He seemed good this morning, but I’ll feel better after making sure.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Thanks, but you have another class, too. There’s no point in both of us being late.” He did leave, but she saw him glance back before going out of sight.
Jana probably wouldn’t have noticed her drawn-out sigh had she not seen the professor’s smile—and found herself smiling back. She made her call, but the phone wasn’t picked up until the sixth ring. “Hello?”
“Kate? I wasn’t sure you’d be home yet.”
“Just came in the door.” She sounded breathless. “I had to stop for gas.”
“I was wondering how Michael’s doing.”
“He and Mary are playing with blocks here on the kitchen floor, so I’m fairly sure he’s okay. I’ll check with Gram.”
“Could I talk to her for a minute?”
“Sure, hold on.”
And then she heard Gram’s cheerfully reassuring voice. “Michael’s doing great, Jana.”
“Not even wheezing?”
“Oh, a little—like before you left this morning—and there’s an occasional cough. Nothing more than that.”
“Wonderful! I thought he’d be all right, but I had to make sure.”
Gram chuckled. “Good mothers are like that.”
Gram’s approval brought a smile to her lips, but then Jana glanced toward Ray, standing by the window, looking outside, obviously trying to give her the impression of privacy as she made her request. “Professor Hawkins asked if I’d like to go with him to a train meeting this evening—a buffet supper and slide program. I was wondering whether—”
“Of course, dear,” Gram said without waiting for further explanation. “I don’t have a thing planned for the rest of the day, so Michael and I can have fun spending it together.”
“You’re sure? I don’t have to go—”
“But you’d like to?”
“Well, yes. I would.”
“Then by all means do so, Jana. It’s about time you have a life beyond this house, the church and college.”
Gram’s words had sounded like good advice when said this morning, but flocks of butterflies were fluttering in Jana’s stomach by five o’clock. Dr. Hawkins had said she could wear anything, for this group was very informal. She’d finally decided on a flowered cotton skirt and sleeveless blouse, then changed that for a short-sleeved one. And, just before he was to arrive, she decided on jeans instead of the skirt.
He was in the hallway when she ran down the wide, spindle-banistered stairs. “Hi.”
He’d been greeted by Gram, who took a step backward so he could move toward Jana. “You look lovely, as always.”
“Thanks.” That surprised her a little—and she still wasn’t sure about her attire. “Are jeans and a blouse suitable for tonight?”
“You’ll fit right in,” he assured her. “A few women wear skirts or dresses, but most are in jeans or shorts. Something casual.”
Michael had come in and was leaning against Jana’s leg, so she reached down to run her hand along his shoulder and arm. “Michael, this is Dr. Hawkins, the nice man who brought you the train filled with plants.”
The corners of Michael’s lips turned up just a little, though he didn’t remove his thumb from his mouth even when the professor said, “I hope you’re feeling better.”
The child only nodded, but Jana didn’t insist on his politely expressing gratitude; his mother’s leaving with a man was not a usual occurrence, and she could only hope he wouldn’t make a fuss. Her voice was light as she said, “Michael, dear, I’m going with Dr. Hawkins to a special meeting, so you and Gram will get to eat together all by yourself this time.”
He wasn’t ready for that. He reached for her hand and held it tight. “Don’t go, Mama! Eat with us.”
It was Gram who took care of this by taking his other hand. “Let’s go to the kitchen, sweetheart. Maybe you can help me find some of that ham left over from dinner last night, and some cheese. And you can decide whether to have peas or baby carrots for our vegetable.”
He looked less than enthusiastic about any of this until she added, “And there are red grapes for dessert, after we finish the other things.”
He released his mother’s hand and led the way to the kitchen. “I know where the ham is, Gram—in the frigrator’s bottom drawer!”
Gram followed him, her words soft-spoken. “Don’t worry about things here. You two just have a good time!”
Ray saw the uncertainty in Jana’s dark blue eyes when her gaze followed her little boy as he ran into the kitchen. She doesn’t leave Michael much except for school. Ray couldn’t have told how he knew, but he was sure that was true. “Shall we go?” he asked briskly. “They normally begin serving right on time.”
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Eileen Berger
Between struggling to balance school and parenthood, Jana Jenson's hands were full. The single mother was not in the market for romance–especially after experiencing the heartache of having her son's father abandon her.Still, Jana was grateful for the support of the Sylvan Falls community, particularly the kindness of handsome college professor Ray Hawkins….Although a painful lesson from the past had taught Ray to guard his heart, he couldn't get Jana off his mind. He wanted to shower her with affection and favor her son with the fatherly attention he'd missed. With the ready-made family by his side, he could imagine happily-ever-after was possible. But could he and Jana find strength from above to heal their hurts and face their pasts when their newfound happiness was threatened?
Ray wondered if there was something special about Jana that was getting through to him.
She was certainly beautiful, but so were a number of other acquaintances, and none of them had made him this introspective. Had she said or done anything that set her apart from all others?
Yet when he closed his eyes, he could still see her there on the hospital bed, her arm around her little son who’d been so very ill, even in sleep cuddling, holding, loving him. Had something that simple, that basic, brought into focus Ray’s own need for closeness?
He wanted to be with Jana, to talk with her, to get to know her for who she really was—not only as an excellent student and loving mother, but apparently a good friend to the other young mothers she’d lived with. And her appreciation of and love for her Gram was also in her favor.
Ray couldn’t sort out his thoughts. For someone who prided himself on his clear thinking, on being able to concentrate on whatever he chose and push from his consciousness things that would interfere, this was almost intolerable!
EILEEN BERGER
has always loved fiction, and even as a teen promised herself that she’d someday write a novel. However, that had to be put on hold as she earned degrees from Bucknell and Temple Universities, then headed up a pathology laboratory in Michigan.
She later married Bob, whom she’d known since childhood, and moved back to north central Pennsylvania, only about twenty miles from where they’d grown up. She did then write several novels, which didn’t sell, although hundreds of articles, short stories and poems were published. It was only in the nineties that her first novels were published—and the one in your hands now is number thirteen.
Eileen is active in writing circles, especially St. Davids Christian Writers Association, whose excellent annual conference is the second oldest and one of the most prestigious of those in America, and possibly in the world.
She says that without these wonderful, caring writers, instructors, co-workers and friends, her career as a Christian writer would have been not only less successful, but much more lonely.
A Family for Jana
Eileen Berger
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear friends, let us love one another,
for love comes from God and knows God.
—I John 4:7
This book is dedicated
to
our blessed grandsons,
Nathanael,
Isaac,
Samuel
and
Karl,
with many prayers and much love,
from your
Grandmother.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
Jana Jenson felt heat rising up her neck and face. She’d heard titters, which called her wandering thoughts back from the hospital; looking toward the front of the college classroom, she realized that Professor Hawkins was staring at her, right eyebrow raised quizzically. “I’m sorry, Dr. Hawkins, did you—ask me something?”
“Yes, I did, Miss Jenson, and….”
She knew better than to interrupt, but it seemed necessary to explain. “My three-year-old son was very sick during the night, and I had to take him to the hospital. My mind was with him, wondering how he’s doing without me there in the pediatric department.”
There was a moment’s silence, but she was looking at her college embryology textbook, fighting for composure. She felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, and heard the encouraging voice of Todd Livingston, who was sitting behind her. “I’m sorry, Jana—we all are.”
She nodded to show she’d heard and raised her left hand to cover his for a moment in nonverbal thanks. Linda, on her left, asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Jana risked a glance at the professor, not knowing if he’d be offended if she continued, but others were also asking questions. “Michael’s been having increasingly bad attacks of croup during this past year. I usually get it under control by filling the bathroom with steam and sitting there with him as the medicine takes effect, but last night even that didn’t bring relief.”
She swallowed the unshed tears, which felt as though they were about to choke her. “I finally called nine-one-one, and the paramedics came—and took him by ambulance….” She was still not over the panic, the fear of losing this child for whom she’d already given up so much—her baby, for whom she’d gladly give her life.
“Is he all right now?” Todd asked.
Jana wished she could be sure of that. “He was some better when I left him—” she glanced at her watch “—about forty minutes ago. He’s no longer critical, they tell me. Otherwise—” she looked directly at Dr. Hawkins “—I’ll admit that I would not be here today.”
His expression had changed, and he looked as though about to respond, but Linda was asking, “How will you manage when he gets home again? Do you have your mother—or someone?”
This question she could readily answer. “Gram will take care of things.” But no, Jana wouldn’t go into further details concerning what she owed that wonderful woman who, though not a blood relative, had done so much for her. Gram had far more than filled the void in her life when she was forced to leave home because of dis-obeying her parents’ command. And I have no regrets as to having made that decision!
She tried to force herself to pay close attention to the rest of the lecture. Meiosis. It was undoubtedly a fascinating subject, and she really did want to learn more about the study of which one of each pair of homologous chromosomes goes to each daughter cell. However, as troubled as she was, Jana couldn’t fully concentrate on the lecture.
Class was finally over, and Todd and Linda waited as Jana gathered her things. However, as they passed the large, centrally located front table, Dr. Hawkins asked, “May I please speak with you, Jana?”
That was the first time he’d called her by her given name. Glancing toward her companions, who nodded and left, she hugged her books close to her chest. “Of course.”
Taking a couple steps around the table, he looked into her eyes and said, “I would like to apologize for embarrassing you.”
She wasn’t convinced he was sorry but would try to give him the benefit of the doubt. “It’s all right.”
Perhaps he sensed her reservations. “I should have just gone on with the class, not waited for you to respond.”
She met his gaze. “I may be setting myself up for an F, Professor, but—” I shouldn’t be saying this—I need good marks to keep my scholarship “—I believe you sometimes enjoy playing to your audience.”
His eyelids flickered, then steadied, and she clutched her books closer, sure she’d made a major error in saying that. But then what appeared to be a rueful smile twisted his lips. “Ah, you are a courageous one, Jana Jenson—but I assure you that, though I may be guilty of sometimes playing to my audience, as you so succinctly put it, I never penalize someone for having the courage to speak the truth. There are few who would take that risk.”
His smile seemed to become more sincere, and his right hand cupped her left elbow. “I promise to try doing better—and hereby give permission for you to hold me accountable if I slip up.”
She started to relax, and her responding smile felt as genuine as his now looked. Continuing to hold her books in her left arm, she impulsively thrust out her other hand. “I will cheerfully accept that responsibility, Dr. Hawkins.”
His grip was firm, and he started to say something else, but she’d glanced at the wall clock, appalled. “Oh, no! I must call the hospital before going to my other class this morning! I’m going to be late.”
He lightly tugged the hand he was still holding as he headed for the door. “My office is right down this hallway. You might as well call from there.”
Todd and Linda were waiting outside, their concerned looks changing to puzzlement, then relief as Jana said, “Dr. Hawkins offered the use of his office phone so I can call the hospital. If Michael’s okay, I’ll run over to Richards Hall for my next class.”
Linda nodded. “Any chance of making the noon meeting?”
“Not today.” She shook her head. “Perhaps tomorrow, if he’s a whole lot better.”
“You have meetings each day?” the professor asked as they walked rapidly down the hall.
He was probably just making conversation, but she could, too. “It’s available each noon, but I usually make it only once or twice a week.”
“Noon meetings?”
“Uh-huh. The Christian Association has done this for years.”
“What do—?” But he interrupted himself by inserting the key he’d taken from his pocket, opening the door, turning on the light and indicating the desk phone. “It’s all yours.”
It took only moments to get through to the pediatric department and learn that Michael was asleep. He appeared to be better, although he was still coughing and wheezing some—but that was to be expected, she was told.
“He’s apparently doing okay, and sleeping right now,” she told the man beside her as she replaced the phone. She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then relaxed a bit. “It’s so scary, especially at night—which is when it almost always happens. I’m grateful that he’s healthy otherwise, and active. Once he’s over even a serious attack, he quickly bounces back.”
“I’m glad.”
“And I must dash!” She was outside the room as she called over her shoulder, “Thanks for the use of your phone.”
Raymond Hawkins stood in his doorway watching the hodgepodge of students, like Jana, rushing to get to their next class. She hurried through the exterior door of the building, and through the glass making up the far side of the covered passageway he saw her leap over the border of blooming tulips and daffodils and run across the grass to save a few seconds.
Only when the door to Richards Hall closed behind her did he turn back to his own office, shut the door, lean back against it—and catch himself sighing. He knew nothing about Jana Jenson—well, almost nothing. He’d noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring but, until a few minutes ago, had no idea she was the mother of a three-year-old.
And she had guts!
He’d been too aware of her from that very first day in his class. She was incredibly beautiful, with those wide, intense, dark blue eyes and slightly wavy hair the color of that well-pulled brown sugar-taffy he and his sister used to help their mother make each year between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
How long has it been since I’ve thought of doing that—or of eating it? Is it because of her speaking so lovingly of Gram, who would help care for little Michael?
He started going over test papers from the morning’s first class, an advanced one on the human endocrine system, and was pleased that most students were doing well. That class and the one just ended were his favorite courses, partly because of his personal interest, but also because they were electives, so the students taking them were those with a genuine interest in the subjects.
He’d known he would have to mostly teach required subjects for at least the first years of his career. This was his fourth year—since those in power agreed to count that first one, when he’d taken over in early October for a professor who had a massive heart attack. These two courses he’d asked for two years later were something of a reward, he thought, and they made such a difference!
Jana must be older than she looks—or else she had her child when very young. He was surprised to realize his thoughts had reverted to her—and was almost glad when the phone rang and he had to take care of some detailed information. That was much safer than continuing to think of that gorgeous junior. Or might she be only a sophomore?
He did wonder about her. No, she was definitely not wearing a ring on her left hand—and she had a three-year-old son.
And she was evidently a Christian….
Jana slid into the empty seat immediately inside the doorway and, grateful to find the class just beginning, quickly opened her notebook. Statistics. She’d taken it because she thought she should, but was discovering she liked it. Whether I use my early-childhood education degree in a school or some other institution, understanding these principles and problems could be invaluable.
Her mind kept wandering; she so wanted to be with Michael, to hold him and sing to him and calm him if he was frightened or lonely. She did manage to drag her thoughts back fairly quickly each time—but it was taking more and more effort to squelch her eagerness to leave.
Class was eventually over, and she drove to the hospital to find Michael no longer lying listlessly against the high-tilted mattress. He was sitting up in bed, and his face became one big smile. “Mama, you’re back!”
“Yes, sweetie, I sure am, and I plan to stay.” She made sure he saw her place her books on his dresser before going to him. “I came as quickly as I possibly could.”
She pulled away as he shoved a small stuffed raccoon into her face. “Look, Mama, Aunt Vanessa brought him, and his name is Raccie.”
She hugged and kissed Michael, which also gave her the opportunity to make sure he didn’t have an elevated temperature along with his wheezing. “That’s a perfect name for him! Did you think of it all by yourself?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, beaming with pride. “I think lots of things all by myself.”
Her knuckles brushed lightly along his jawline. “You certainly do, and that makes me happy.” After lowering the side rail, she sat on the side of his bed. “And now I want to hear all about your morning—what you saw and who you talked with and everything.”
He rattled on about the nurses, a funny TV cartoon, his Aunt Vanessa, who was actually Gram’s granddaughter, the raccoon and Gram’s phoning while Vanessa was there, saying she’d be coming soon. Jana encouraged his enthusiastic report, rejoicing in his communication skills even while being very aware of his continuing cough and breathing difficulties.
At least neither was as bad as before.
It was some time later that she stood up and, walking toward the door, laid her hand on the books. “I’m leaving my stuff here, Michael, while I go down the hall to talk with one of the nurses.”
His little arms reached toward her. “Don’t go, Mama.”
“I’ll be right back, dear.”
His face began to pucker. “Stay with me.”
She wanted to gather him into her arms, but instead stood there smiling, praying that her manner and voice would reassure him. “I promise to come back very, very soon, Michael.”
A tear formed in each eye. “Last time was a long time.”
“I know, Michael—but remember I told you then that I must go to school and I would be gone quite a while—and I was. And this time I’m saying it will be just a little while, okay?”
His lower lip protruded, but she grinned, quickly walked over to put up the bed rail and left immediately, saying cheerfully, “See you in a tiny little bit, my love.”
She did not turn back when he cried, “Mama, come back, come back!” She leaned against the wall and waited to make sure his starting to cough harder didn’t make his wheezing more serious.
“Something wrong, Miss Jenson?” It was one of the older cleaning ladies. “Something wrong with that dear little boy of yours?”
Maybe I’m what’s wrong. Jana glanced at the woman’s name tag before whispering, “I just got back from my classes, Sandra, and need to speak with Michael’s nurse—but he doesn’t want me to leave.”
A big smile covered the woman’s round face, and her hand on Jana’s waist gave a light shove. “We talked a whole lot while I was cleaning his room, so I’m gonna go in there and visit with that little cutie. We’ll make out fine.” She then walked inside, saying, “Hi, Michael. What have you and Raccie been doing since I left?”
Jana smiled with relief as she heard her son answer the question. There are so many wonderful people in Your world, God! Thanks for letting me get to know that—for letting me know them. And help me not to forget to help others….
She spoke first with the secretary, and was even more grateful for Sandra’s being with Michael as she waited several minutes to talk with the nurse. Margery Caldwell appeared harried, but did say that Michael was doing “as well as can be expected at this time.” Nobody had any idea yet when he might go home, certainly not today—but she assured Jana he was over the worst of the attack.
When Jana returned to Michael’s room, Sandra bent over to kiss his cheek. “See, big guy? Your mom’s returned real quick, like she said—and now I’d better get back to my job before I get in trouble.” On the way to the door she took time to add, “And you, Ms. Jenson, don’t worry so much. We’re here to help take care of your little boy.”
“Thanks, Sandra.” Jana reached out to squeeze her hand. “You have no idea how comforting it is to know that.” She put down the side rail and sat on Michael’s bed again as she told him the nurse said he was better.
“Yep.” He nodded. “Better.”
She touched his chest. “Does it hurt here?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yep.”
“Where did you hurt?”
“Here!” His fingertips beat a brief tattoo on his chest, then moved to his throat. “And here.”
The wheezing. And coughing. “Well, since they’re both better now, would you like to get out of bed?”
He was instantly slithering around her, legs already over the edge of the bed as she grabbed him. “Michael, wait a second! Look down there—how far it is to the floor. This is a high bed, not like yours at home with its short legs.”
She convinced him to sit while she got his pajamas and bunny slippers from the bag she’d brought with her. “And as soon as you go to the bathroom, and change out of that gown and into these clothes, we’ll walk in the hall.”
He was so overjoyed at this prospect that it was difficult to keep him still long enough to slide his legs into the pants and his feet into slippers. She held him as he tugged to run down the hallway. Remembering how very sick he’d been during the night, she wasn’t sure how much energy he should be expending.
At the end of the corridor, she lifted him so he could look out the window. “What do you see, Michael?”
“Oh, trees and grass and sidewalks and men and women and cars and streets and a dog….” It was a singsong reply, with all nouns emphasized. “And clouds and shadows and birds and branches—I see lots of things.”
“Yes, dear, you certainly do see lots of things, and I’m glad you showed them to me. I had not even noticed those shadows.” After all, she and Michael were on the fourth floor.
“Lots of shadows—the big, big one’s from the ho’pital, and the littler ones are from trees—but it’s hard seein’ people shadows.”
It seems to me that these are astute observations my three-year-old is making, but what do I know? Until he was born, I hadn’t been around many babies and small children.
They took their time walking to his room, for he had to investigate a wheelchair and climb on it. She pushed him a short distance before returning it to where it had been, and then they proceeded to his room. She let him press the button to raise the top of the bed and, after removing his slippers and her shoes, she lay down beside him to read several of his favorite books. It wasn’t long before his eyelids were getting heavy, but she made no comment about this, just kept on reading until he was sound asleep.
The rail was still up on the other side of the bed, and she hesitated to lower it in case that might awaken him, or might even make him worse. Laying the book on the bedside table, she turned onto her side with her arm around him and closed her eyes. I should use this time for studying, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to rest a few minutes….
Ray Hawkins was not used to making amends—most times he’d found it wasn’t necessary, particularly now that he was a tenured professor at a well-rated institution. However, though Jana Jenson had indicated that she’d accepted his apology, he still didn’t feel good about what he’d done to necessitate it.
Well, he’d discovered for himself the truth of the florists’ ads—that a dozen long-stemmed roses or some seasonal arrangement did seem to please women. He reached for the phone and started to dial that remembered number—but stopped in time.
There was a good possibility that this particular woman would not only see through his sending flowers, but tell him so!
Like she’d done after his class!
Well, then, he’d send flowers to her son; that shouldn’t offend her. He checked with the hospital for the child’s room number before calling the florist to order something suitable for a three-year-old in some clever pot or vase that a little kid would like.
Feeling pleased with himself after his phone conversation, he returned to looking over the material for tomorrow’s classes then, not bothering with lunch, finished checking over the tests from yesterday. He’d asked only one essay question in addition to all those requiring an answer of a few words, so the task was completed in less time than anticipated.
Picking up his briefcase and suit jacket, Ray left his office for the day, locked the door and went to his car.
On the spur of the moment he stopped at the florist’s to check the arrangement he’d ordered—and was annoyed when told that whichever container and flowers might be used, it wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow!
Among the assortment of glass, ceramic and pottery containers, one in particular appealed to him. He’d been a railroad buff for as long as he could remember, his particular interest being steam engines. For the last ten years, ever since he was nineteen, he’d belonged to one, then another railroad club. His present one had not only restored an old station house, but also was in the continuing process of revamping an engine, caboose and various cars.
There was no doubt about it—this little steam engine with its burly black bear engineer and antlered-deer fireman was what he wanted for Michael. And it was after making that decision he belatedly recalled that some croup attacks were triggered by certain flowers or strong scents—so what he’d already ordered could be dangerous.
He carried the ceramic engine to the counter and informed the clerk that instead of flowers he wanted small plants in this container, and he’d wait for it to be made up so he could take it to the hospital himself.
The counter person stated she was too busy to do that right now, but he reminded her that she’d not told him on the phone his order wouldn’t be delivered today. Since he’d have to deliver it himself, he’d just borrow the stool from behind the counter and wait until his order was taken care of.
Seating himself in the busiest part of the shop, he began reading the professional journal that had come the day before, and it was no surprise that his order was made up quickly. He carried it to his car, then headed for the hospital, realizing that even though he should be rooting for the child to already be well enough to go home, he couldn’t help selfishly hoping Michael was still there—and that his mother was with him.
The hospital parking lot was almost full, but someone was pulling out of a spot near the entrance, so he slid into that. He seldom went to hospitals because he found them depressing, but this time he didn’t think of that. He did, however, wonder what in the world he could talk about with a child this young—or with anyone else, for that matter—if Jana wasn’t there. How could he explain to a stranger his personally bringing a gift for this child he’d never met?
He forced himself to get on the elevator when the doors opened—but had there not been people awaiting the exit of whoever pushed the button for the fourth floor, he might have stayed on for a return to the lobby to hand this planter to someone at the front desk. As it was, he stepped into the hallway and stood there for a moment, unsure where to go.
A cheerful older woman wearing a volunteer name tag caught his eye. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. Room four fourteen…?”
She pointed toward his right. “Make a left at the end of this corridor. It’s the third door on the right.”
“Thanks.” But his steps were slow as he followed her instructions. The partially open door showed only the foot of the bed, but as he stepped inside he saw first Jana’s stockinged feet, then legs that were quite worthy of notice! Then there was the blue-and-beige skirt and beige blouse Jana had been wearing this morning—and that lovely oval face.
She was lying on her right side, facing him, arm around a little boy with the same fair skin and sugar-taffy hair. His breathing sounded raspy, but Ray had never just stood and watched a sleeping child. He supposed this might not be too abnormal, though it seemed that the little chest, as observed through the cotton pajamas, was rising and lowering more than he’d have expected. Was it perhaps overfilling—perhaps needing more oxygen than usual?
It occurred to him that, notwithstanding all his studies in biology and human anatomy and physiology, in spite of his degrees and being one of the youngest tenured professors on campus, he knew very little as to three-year-olds—and was intrigued by the possibility of learning more about Michael.
As he already was about the child’s mother.
Ray had, of course, dated through the years, but always tried to keep from developing more than a short-term relationship. After all, his goal had been to get where he was now—so why wasn’t he more contented and fulfilled? Why did he have this something driving him to put more of himself into his work, to demand more and more of himself—and of his students?
Jana shifted, left leg sliding forward enough to again be in contact with her small son’s foot, which had moved away a few inches. Even in sleep she’s aware of needing closeness with the one she loves.
That observation made Ray suck in his breath sharply. Even awake, I seldom make an effort to be close to anyone.
What’s wrong with me today? Maybe I’d better just set this plant on the dresser and get out of here. However, he’d told them at the shop that, since he was hand-delivering it, he didn’t need a notification-of-sender card stuck in his train engine container.
He put the planter on the bedside table and was getting a business card from his wallet when he heard a sigh and saw Jana open her eyes and look right at him. He was sure he’d made no noise; had she sensed his presence?
She did not seem startled or uneasy at his being there, just smiled sleepily. Something caught in his throat, and he had to swallow hard. She looked so young, and innocent, and sweet, lying there with her arm around her sleeping son, and he had a moment of forcing himself to stay where he was.
What he’d been tempted to do was to push the table aside and take the several steps necessary to put his arms around both of them as they lay there on the bed—something he’d never before have considered doing!
Chapter Two
In her dream she’d just relived Dr. Hawkins saying she had his permission to hold him accountable—then here he was, a few feet away. She smiled lazily, then sobered as she realized where she was, lying in bed with her arm around her son, who’d been so sick.
“Oh….” It was an almost silent interjection as she cautiously straightened her arm, made sure her skirt was covering her thighs, then rolled over to sit on the side of the bed. “I—didn’t know you were here,” she whispered.
His voice was equally soft. “I just arrived, and I’m glad you were able to sleep. You must have needed it.”
She stood up. “I was awake all night.”
“Well, I—uh…” He looked almost embarrassed as he picked up the ceramic train engine holding several green plants. “I hoped that maybe your son—your Michael would like this. He’s not allergic to just foliage, is he?”
This man is really ill at ease—and I’ve seen that twice today. I never suspected…. Jana held the gift in both hands. “This is lovely, and I appreciate your considering possible allergies. Several of his worst attacks followed being around Easter lilies, poinsettias and mums—and I suspect carnations, though that was only once.”
“Is there anything you can do to control it—shots or anything?”
“It was discussed the last time we were at his pediatrician’s—and we’re scheduled to see the allergist next week.” She glanced toward the calendar on the wall. “Which reminds me to call him today.”
They’d moved across the room so they wouldn’t be as apt to wake the sleeping child, and she was in the doorway when she saw Gram come around the corner. Jana hurried to meet her and put her arms around the older woman, who was asking, “How is our little sweetheart?”
“Much better! He’s still wheezing, but has been sleeping for well over an hour. He hasn’t coughed much during that time.”
“Good!” But then she cautioned, “Don’t be alarmed, though, if he does some when he gets awake.”
“I realize he’s probably continuing to produce phlegm, and his body will try to loosen it.” She briefly wondered about the best way to account for this man being here and decided on making a simple, straightforward introduction. “Gram, this is Dr. Raymond Hawkins. Professor Hawkins, I’d like you to meet Mrs. MaryJean McHenry, one of the most special people I’ve ever known.”
“Ah, yes, the biology professor,” Gram said, not looking at all surprised as she stretched out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dr. Hawkins.”
He took the necessary step forward to clasp her hand. “And I’m honored to meet you, Mrs. McHenry.”
Gram admired the planter. “Some of our relatives were involved with railroads. There used to be a short line that ran right through Sylvan Falls, which accounts for our still having a Railroad Street.”
This definitely got his attention, for he asked a number of questions. It was some time later when Gram asked, “Have you eaten anything, Jana?”
“I was in too much of a hurry to get back here, then didn’t want to leave Michael.”
Gram stood there shaking her head. “Look, dear, you’ve got to start taking care of yourself, not only for your sake, but his.”
“Granted, but there seem to be exceptions to even the most logical of rules.” She smiled. “And, really, that little nap I had with him did me more good than a multicourse dinner.”
“Could be.” Gram wasn’t about to argue, but looked toward Ray. “Why don’t you take Jana down to the cafeteria while I’m here to stay with Michael?”
“Gram!” She was mortified at Gram’s asking him to do that. “Dr. Hawkins is a busy man. He doesn’t have to escort me downstairs!”
But Ray was saying at the same time, “That’s a great suggestion, Mrs. McHenry—especially since I also neglected to eat.”
“But—”
“I don’t enjoy always eating alone, Jana, and this is close enough to the evening meal that a sandwich or dish of ice cream later will take care of that.”
His smile was almost boyish, and there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye. Jana still didn’t feel right about this, but replied, “Wel-l-l, since we both do need to eat, I guess it makes sense to do it now. But if Michael’s at all upset about my leaving….”
Gram laughed and raised her hand as though taking an oath. “My dear Jana, I promise to take good care of him.”
“I’m sorry. You know more about babies and children than I ever will. It’s just that I was so scared last night and this morning.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? I was, too.”
Michael had flopped over on the bed to where Jana had recently been lying, and she wondered if by any chance she’d left some scent there—if it was more than happenstance that made the sleeping child seem to relax. Her arms ached with the almost irrepressible urge to gather her son close, to hold him, but she picked up her small purse and led the way from the room.
They engaged in small talk about college activities. No, she was not involved with any clubs or organizations—except for that noon meeting, which she sometimes attended when staying for an afternoon lab or to work at the library. She’d had no expectation of continuing to talk about that, but did when he asked another question. “It’s quite informal. Different people volunteer to read a scripture and share thoughts, and then there’s always some discussion and a time of prayer.”
“Do you volunteer?”
She glanced at him as she led the way into the empty elevator. “Not yet, though I should, for it’s been helpful for me.”
She wondered if he’d like it, but had no way of knowing, since he changed the subject to something he’d recently read about in an endocrinology journal as they entered the cafeteria.
She’d expected to have just a bowl of soup and a sandwich, but he talked her into a full meal when he said, “What are the odds that your little one won’t want you leaving to eat later?”
“You’re right, of course. And by then Gram will be back in Sylvan Falls.”
“You’re not going to stay here again tonight, are you?”
“I don’t expect to, not unless Michael gets worse, which could happen. His attacks usually don’t begin until after eleven, most frequently between midnight and two.”
“You plan to stay that long?”
He sounded concerned, and she shook her head. “Just until he’s asleep—if he’s still doing this well. He’s ordinarily a good sleeper, so I’m praying we’ll both rest well tonight.”
He nodded, but didn’t commit himself to praying for that, as some of her friends might have. For that matter, she had no way of knowing whether he even believed in prayer.
They were sitting across from one another at one of the small square tables when she asked, “Do you have a family?”
He shrugged. “Parents—in Wisconsin, and a sister in Pittsburgh. I don’t see as much of them as I’d like.”
“Oh?” I shouldn’t have said that—it’s none of my business.
“We’re all busy with one thing or another.” He seemed to study her before adding, “While working on my degrees, I never had much time for visiting and, though we keep saying we’re going to, we’ve sort of got out of the habit of making the effort.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I take it you have strong family ties.”
“No.” I shouldn’t have started this conversation. “We don’t.”
His brows rose, making horizontal furrows above them. “If I had a grandmother like yours, I’d count myself lucky.”
“I do count myself blessed to have Gram. She’s one of the most loving, remarkable women in the world. But she’s not….”
“She’s not…?”
Why can’t I learn to think before speaking? “It’s nothing.”
Although one part of her didn’t want to say anything more, Ray sat there waiting for her to continue. She finally murmured. “She’s not a blood relative, though I wish she were. She took me in when I needed a place to stay.”
Ray’s instincts told him not to push this, to let the matter lie, but he could not force himself to eat the food on his fork.
Her gaze had been turned downward when she said that, but lifted, perhaps reluctantly, to meet his. There was such pain there that his hand reached over to cover hers. “It’s okay, Jana. You don’t owe me explanations.”
Her lids flickered, then steadied as she drew in a quick, sharp breath and gave a nod. Neither said anything more for what seemed a long time, and then, after she asked him to pass the salt, he changed the subject to trains.
Ray inquired as to whether she’d been to Steamtown National Park, and when she answered negatively he spent much of the rest of their time together sharing what that was like and talking about specific engines. It didn’t matter right then if she was even interested; it was something to say, something to fill that dangerous bog into which they’d almost fallen.
He’d expected to go upstairs to Michael’s room with her, but as the elevator doors opened she thanked him for the gift to her son and for the meal he’d insisted on paying for even though she had stated she’d prefer doing that herself.
Well, I’ve now blown it twice today as far as she’s concerned! That was not a happy thought as the door closed behind her and he turned to cross the lobby alone. The first time had been because of superciliousness, but perhaps his inquisitiveness might be just as bad, or worse.
He considered following her, and even reached to push the elevator’s up button, but stopped in time. Gram was undoubtedly still there, her little boy might be awake—and what could he say or do to make things better, anyway? I guess the only thing is to hope for the best in class tomorrow. But if her friends are with her when she leaves, like today, it would only embarrass her if I apologize for making such a fool of myself this second time.
Gram was holding Michael on her lap, reading one of the books she’d brought. He looked over and started talking even while removing his thumb from his mouth. “Gram’s reading Mr. Hoppity’s Happiest Harvest, my extra-fav’rite special book.”
Jana ran her fingers across the top of his head, relishing the caress of the fine, golden-brown hair slipping between them. “That’s one of my favorites, too.”
Squirming around, he pointed toward the straight chair near them. “Gram can read to you, too, Mama.”
“I’d like that, but there are things I should read for my classes. If that’s all right with you, Gram.”
“I’m staying for another hour or so.” Gram smiled encouragement. “You do your thing, dear, and Michael and I will do ours, ’cause we just love to read books.”
He leaned against her shoulder and, just before his thumb returned to his mouth, agreed, “Yep, me and Gram just love reading books.”
Jana smiled at the two people she loved most in the world and carried her books and notebook to the plastic chair by the window. Thanks, God, for Michael’s being so much better, and thanks for Gram, with all her goodness and love. And please help me use this next hour or so efficiently, because I don’t know how much more time I’ll have to study.
One of the many good things about living at Gram’s was that she’d been forced to compartmentalize. There were people around all the time, and so many activities—especially with the children!—that she’d never have survived these college years had she not been able to fix her attention on just one or two things at a time, while yet not being blind to her surroundings.
She finished the reading assignments and was working on problems for statistics when Gram got to her feet and said she’d have to leave. Michael wasn’t happy about that, clinging to her and begging her to stay. It was hard for Jana not to get involved, but she was glad she’d refrained when Gram set the crying child on his bed and took both of his little hands in hers. “Michael, dear, you know I always tell you the truth, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh. But….”
“And I’ve already told you that either you will come home to be with me tomorrow, or I will come here and be with you, right?”
“Uh-huh, but…” He tried again.
“But right now, I am needed at home.”
Tears ran down his cheeks, but he nodded.
After Gram left, Jana read several more books to him then, at the beginning of the hour, checked through various TV channels until she found one suitable for her son to watch as she worked on assignments.
He pushed the evening meal away when an aide brought it, but his program was so filled with fast action that Jana was able to spoon food into his mouth without his realizing it.
She never did this at home—didn’t have to; he was an excellent eater, and nobody watched TV at mealtime. So much conversation took place around Gram’s big kitchen table that there wouldn’t be time to stare at a television screen.
They took another walk past the elevators and to the end of the long hallway. At first she tried to go slowly, not wanting increased activity to give Michael a setback, but that didn’t last long; even when several of the staff greeted him by name, he was too busy investigating gurneys, potted plants, wheelchairs and other things to remain long with anyone.
He slowed down some as they neared his room again, but he didn’t complain about being put back in his bed since she lay down beside him. This, too, she usually didn’t do, but Jana wanted to make things as easy as possible for him in this strange place. She was just starting another book when Gram’s granddaughter, Karlyn, came to visit.
Michael was yawning by the time Karlyn left. Jana explained that she’d be going home later so he could sleep better in his bed but she’d be back in the morning—probably before they brought breakfast. In the meantime, she took him to the bathroom after he drank the orange juice and ate several graham crackers brought to him by an aide, then said she’d lie beside him to read some more.
She finally stated, with a deliberately obvious yawn, that she was very tired—but did have to struggle to keep from dropping off before he did!
It was almost too dark to see the multicolored flowers of bulbs and trees and golden forsythia as Jana drove home through the late April evening. She of course recognized the cars parked by the curb in front of Gram’s house, so she knew AnnaMae and Kate had come to pick up their children.
Barb had offered to cover for Jana in giving childcare this afternoon, and it seemed almost incomprehensible that, at first, the two of them had not got along well. They were as close as sisters now, probably closer than many siblings—but then they’d been two lonely, scared, pregnant sixteen-year-olds whom Gram had taken into her home, along with the three slightly older girls in the same situation, Kate, AnnaMae and Ricki.
Barb came onto the veranda as Jana started up the walk to Gram’s huge old Victorian house. “How’s our little sweetheart?”
“Although he continues to cough and wheeze some, he seems good, and everyone thinks he’s okay. If he gets through tonight without an attack, perhaps he’ll come home tomorrow.” She climbed the front steps. “What about things here?”
“Mary has a runny nose, but seems to feel all right. I don’t think she’s coming down with a cold. And the other kids are fine.”
Jana nodded toward the cars out front. “I see AnnaMae and Kate have come for their little ones.”
“And Ricki was covering this evening, so they’ll all soon be gone.”
They entered the large front hall and were greeted by the three children. Jana laid her purse on the floor as she got down on her knees to hug them. “I missed you guys,” she said, kissing each of them.
Their mothers came from the kitchen to get the latest update on Michael before leaving for the night—and suddenly it seemed very quiet with just the three adults. Gram looked around. “It’s almost lonely with no children in the house.”
Barb nodded. “It seems eons ago when it was just you, Gram and us five teens.”
“And much longer when I was living alone here.” She sighed. “Thank goodness I didn’t fully realize what I was missing.”
Jana remembered how frightened she’d been before coming here as one of the five pregnant teens Gram had taken under her wing. At that time, it had been considered a safe haven where they could stay until their babies were born—after which each infant would go to adoptive parents.
But she didn’t want to think about that now. “To hear your family, especially your granddaughter, Andi, tell it, you kept just as busy then!”
“I enjoyed everything I was doing, but not nearly as much as having you and the other girls and the little ones around.”
Jana had no doubt that was true, and her arm slid around the older woman’s trim waist. “I got to thinking last night that what we call you is also your title, your profession. You are Gram to half the people in Sylvan Falls—but especially to us!”
“What a sweet thing to say. I don’t deserve it, but I’ll treasure it anyway.” She beamed at Jana, smiled at Barb and headed for the kitchen. “Come get a piece of apple pie, then you get to bed, Jana. I’m sure you need your rest!”
“Sounds like two wonderful ideas.” She followed Gram and Barb and thoroughly enjoyed the dessert. Getting up from the table a little later, Jana remembered to tell them, “I’m setting my alarm for the last possible moment—so don’t think I’ve overslept.”
But her final thoughts before falling asleep were about Dr. Ray Hawkins bringing the plants to the hospital for her son, and of his being so kind, so nice as they ate together.
Having planned to be in the classroom earlier than usual, Ray considered not answering the phone as he was leaving his office. But he did, and the message was important; however, he still begrudged the time.
All the students were seated before he arrived, but he had no difficulty spotting Jana, halfway back in the middle row. Laying down his books, he asked, even while walking around the front table, “I trust your son is better this morning, Ms. Jenson?”
She looked startled, and he wondered if that was because, although always willing to answer anything or talk about science, he almost always stuck to lesson material. He hoped she’d recognized this as something of a public apology on his part when she answered, “Yes, thank you. Michael’s improved so much that we hope he’ll be discharged today.”
“Good!” Ray commented, then proceeded to begin the day’s lesson.
After the class was over, Todd and Linda walked out with Jana again. Ray couldn’t control the spontaneous smile that came to his face as she passed his table—and was inordinately pleased that her responding one seemed genuine. But even with that beautiful smile of hers, I’m afraid she won’t forget yesterday. It’s not appropriate for me to ask her to have lunch with me—especially in front of her friends. Anyway, I shouldn’t even consider becoming friends with a young woman who’s the mother of a small child!
Is there a husband somewhere? Has she ever had one? I know that’s not supposed to matter anymore, but it does to me. And I don’t know a thing about small children and shouldn’t even be thinking of that child—or his mother. Which, as the day went on, he found to be a difficult resolution to keep.
“Are you staying for the meeting today, Jana?” Todd asked, walking over to Richards Hall with her.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“It’s not much more than an hour from now.”
“I know. Somehow Michael’s illness seems to have driven away other thoughts—not that God isn’t even more important, but….”
“I wasn’t being judgmental. It’s just that I was hoping you’d be there today.”
“Especially today?”
“Well, yes.” His grin was a bit lopsided. “I’m the one leading devotions.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “In that case, I’ll surely come. This will be my first time to hear you do that.”
“I’ve never volunteered before and I’ll admit to being sort of scared—at least nervous.”
“I would be, too, yet we both know there’s no one there to critique you. Everyone’s encouraging—supportive.”
“You haven’t volunteered, either.”
“And I probably won’t. Public speaking doesn’t seem to be one of my gifts.”
“I felt that way, too, then got to thinking I shouldn’t just keep receiving. It was time for giving, too.”
“Then it’s right for you,” she agreed. “But thus far I haven’t been convinced of that for me.”
She thought for a moment that he was about to argue, but they were nearing her classroom, so she gave him a smile and went inside. I know he has other friends there, but it must mean something to him for me to be supportive, too.
The professor gave a pop quiz at the beginning of class, making Jana especially grateful for having disciplined herself to do that assignment.
Class ran a bit late, so by the time she got to the lounge in Sanderson Dorm where the noon meeting was held the circle of seats was nearly full. These get-togethers were always informal. Today, like most others, the two choruses they sang were unaccompanied, yet harmonized.
Jana had been in the junior high and senior high choruses back home and had been chosen to sing solos several times—but she mustn’t think about such enjoyable things now. That was a different place and a different time; she and her parents had been on reasonably good terms then.
Before she got pregnant. Before she had to leave home. Before her comfortable world had fallen apart.
Todd asked one of the freshmen to read a chosen scripture, and a senior led in prayer. He then went directly into his fifteen-minute meditation on reaching out to others, to being a friend under all situations. He seemed to glance toward Jana more than she wished, but she considered the talk good, especially for a first one. She commended him on this before hurrying home.
Gram had brought Michael home from the hospital in mid-morning, and he was already taking his afternoon nap by the time Jana got there. Although Gram reported that he seemed to be doing all right, Jana tiptoed in to gently place her hand against his forehead and on his chest to verify that his temperature and breathing were normal.
Downstairs, she took over her shift as baby-sitter. In addition to the four children who were usually here, Gram’s great-granddaughter, Katherine, had been brought by her father, Keith.
Ricki had left for her part-time job after explaining that her daughter, Debbie, seemed more fussy than usual. “She’s not running an elevated temp or anything, and Gram and I don’t think she’s coming down with anything. She insisted she wasn’t sleepy, but you know what an agreeable doll she usually is. I put her to bed anyway and hope for your sake, as well as hers, that she’s in a better mood when she gets up.”
Gram was spending time at the library with her literacy volunteer work. She’d not done this for the last several years, but with everyone pulling together so well, she’d decided to get back to the work she so loved.
Jana opened her books on the kitchen table, realizing chances were good that at least one of the five children would soon be waking. Then she went upstairs to the room she shared with her son, opened the desk drawer as silently as possible and removed several boxes to take downstairs.
She didn’t find what she wanted in the assortment of greetings, but among her note cards was a black-and-white sketch of a steam engine pulling a coal car and an assortment of others, including passenger, box, container, flatbed and animal—and there was also, of course, a caboose.
A smile was on her face while writing the thank-you note to Ray, and she’d still heard no sounds from upstairs by the time the envelope was sealed, stamped and carried to the front porch. Today’s mail had not yet been delivered, so Jana clipped her envelope to the wall-mounted mailbox for pickup.
She disciplined herself to write a brief letter to her parents, as she’d promised herself to do each week, even though she had heard nothing from them for all these years. She always had her return address on the envelope, and none had been returned so, still hoping they were being read, she continued to write, each missive accompanied by a prayer for reconciliation.
Both Mother and Dad had told her that if she didn’t care enough for them to do as they commanded, to have that abortion, they would no longer consider her to be their daughter. However, she’d continued to inform them of most things, especially of Michael’s birth, of her graduation from high school and of being almost finished with her third year of college.
She’d sent photocopies of report cards, but those consistently above 3.5 grade point averages got no more acknowledgment than had the announcement of the birth of their only grandchild. Nevertheless, she wrote a few lines about Michael’s recent hospitalization and his being home again.
Her studying wasn’t completed, but at least she’d made a good start on the second subject before going upstairs to bring down the first two children. Everything was left on the table in case she might have a few more minutes this afternoon, although that was unlikely. Whatever was undone by then would be tackled again after the little girls went home and Michael was put to bed for the night—if she could stay awake and alert enough to do so.
Chapter Three
Ray had gone over his notes for the next class and was treating himself to a break—reading the lead article in the current Trains magazine. Lost in the account of an early logging railroad, he barely looked up when the student serving as today’s deliverer of faculty mail tapped on his nearly closed door. “You got lots of stuff this morning, Professor.”
“Thanks.” He reached for the rubber-banded bundle and started to set it on the corner of the desk when he noticed the hand-addressed square envelope with no return address.
He slit it open with the slender ivory knife given to him by his grandfather years before and smiled when he pulled out the enclosed card. He guessed from whom it came before unfolding it. Who else would choose one with that fanciful picture of a train? The message was relatively informal:
Dear Dr. Hawkins,
Michael and I would like to thank you again for your thoughtfulness in choosing and delivering the delightful train-engine container and plants. He has loved trains ever since I first read to him the book Terry Tooter, and he has several picture books featuring them.
I also appreciate your giving so generously of your time and concern in seeing to it that I ate lunch—my dinner, actually.
My son is home again now and seems to be doing well.
And I want to apologize for my almost-yawn in class. Believe me, I have never been bored there; you are an excellent teacher, and I’m grateful for the opportunity of being one of your students.
Sincerely,
Jana Jenson
He smiled and read the card twice before sliding it back into its envelope and opening the top center drawer of his desk. Instead of placing it there, however, he tucked it into his shirt pocket, glanced at the wall clock and started for his classroom. Jana arrived perhaps a minute later with her friend Linda Patterson; although they both greeted him with a good morning, he was annoyed at his response coming out so stupidly imitative!
By the middle of the period he knew he must make an opportunity to speak with her. After all, this was Friday; tonight was his monthly train meeting.
Jana had not exaggerated in writing that she liked his teaching; Dr. Hawkins was enthusiastic about his subject, and she always made notes of material he shared with them from current journals. He’d horrified many when his first test included questions based on this information as well as what was in textbooks, but she’d answered everything correctly; she, too, was fascinated by human embryology.
The fifty minutes passed almost too quickly, and she started forward by herself as Todd and Linda were discussing something with another student. As she passed the front table, Dr. Hawkins asked how Michael was this morning. She paused long enough to say that he seemed almost as good as normal. “Little ones bounce back much faster than a parent does.”
“Although they feel rotten, I guess maybe they don’t worry about it like adults.”
“That does make a huge difference,” she agreed. “And there’s no way to keep him from running and playing hard with the other children—which may be good. As shook-up as I was, I’d undoubtedly be overprotective.”
The other three students had left the classroom but, though out of sight in the hallway, they were talking and laughing nearby. Suddenly, Dr. Hawkins cleared his throat and said, “Look, Jana, our railroad meeting’s tonight. It starts at six with a catered buffet, then there’s a program with slides concerning one of this region’s short line railroads. Perhaps it would be good for you to get away from things for a bit, and I think you’d enjoy it, and the people….”
He’d spoken quietly but more rapidly than usual, and he was obviously ill at ease, which made her hesitate. The situation became more awkward when he added, “I’d like to take you with me.”
I can hardly believe this. “I may be needed at home.”
“Could you call and see if your grandmother or someone could take care of things?” A strained look crossed his face as he amended, “Take care of your son?”
Her books had been held tight against her chest, and she consciously tried to relax a little, pleased to be asked but cautious. “I haven’t dated for a very long time, Dr. Hawkins, and….”
“You needn’t think of this as a date, maybe just—you know, having a change of pace, hearing and seeing things unconnected with sickness or classes or anything.”
I’d have laughed had anyone suggested that this man would ask me out—and that I’d be tempted to go! But I would enjoy doing something different, and I do like what I know of him.
He pulled back the hand that had seemed to start reaching toward her and suggested, “You can phone from my office.”
Two of the students in the hallway had moved on, but Todd was there and took a step in their direction. He had perhaps noted the hand almost touching her arm, so she spoke before he could. “I’m going to use the professor’s phone again, Todd, to check on Michael.”
His questioning look changed to concern. “Is he worse?”
“He seemed good this morning, but I’ll feel better after making sure.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Thanks, but you have another class, too. There’s no point in both of us being late.” He did leave, but she saw him glance back before going out of sight.
Jana probably wouldn’t have noticed her drawn-out sigh had she not seen the professor’s smile—and found herself smiling back. She made her call, but the phone wasn’t picked up until the sixth ring. “Hello?”
“Kate? I wasn’t sure you’d be home yet.”
“Just came in the door.” She sounded breathless. “I had to stop for gas.”
“I was wondering how Michael’s doing.”
“He and Mary are playing with blocks here on the kitchen floor, so I’m fairly sure he’s okay. I’ll check with Gram.”
“Could I talk to her for a minute?”
“Sure, hold on.”
And then she heard Gram’s cheerfully reassuring voice. “Michael’s doing great, Jana.”
“Not even wheezing?”
“Oh, a little—like before you left this morning—and there’s an occasional cough. Nothing more than that.”
“Wonderful! I thought he’d be all right, but I had to make sure.”
Gram chuckled. “Good mothers are like that.”
Gram’s approval brought a smile to her lips, but then Jana glanced toward Ray, standing by the window, looking outside, obviously trying to give her the impression of privacy as she made her request. “Professor Hawkins asked if I’d like to go with him to a train meeting this evening—a buffet supper and slide program. I was wondering whether—”
“Of course, dear,” Gram said without waiting for further explanation. “I don’t have a thing planned for the rest of the day, so Michael and I can have fun spending it together.”
“You’re sure? I don’t have to go—”
“But you’d like to?”
“Well, yes. I would.”
“Then by all means do so, Jana. It’s about time you have a life beyond this house, the church and college.”
Gram’s words had sounded like good advice when said this morning, but flocks of butterflies were fluttering in Jana’s stomach by five o’clock. Dr. Hawkins had said she could wear anything, for this group was very informal. She’d finally decided on a flowered cotton skirt and sleeveless blouse, then changed that for a short-sleeved one. And, just before he was to arrive, she decided on jeans instead of the skirt.
He was in the hallway when she ran down the wide, spindle-banistered stairs. “Hi.”
He’d been greeted by Gram, who took a step backward so he could move toward Jana. “You look lovely, as always.”
“Thanks.” That surprised her a little—and she still wasn’t sure about her attire. “Are jeans and a blouse suitable for tonight?”
“You’ll fit right in,” he assured her. “A few women wear skirts or dresses, but most are in jeans or shorts. Something casual.”
Michael had come in and was leaning against Jana’s leg, so she reached down to run her hand along his shoulder and arm. “Michael, this is Dr. Hawkins, the nice man who brought you the train filled with plants.”
The corners of Michael’s lips turned up just a little, though he didn’t remove his thumb from his mouth even when the professor said, “I hope you’re feeling better.”
The child only nodded, but Jana didn’t insist on his politely expressing gratitude; his mother’s leaving with a man was not a usual occurrence, and she could only hope he wouldn’t make a fuss. Her voice was light as she said, “Michael, dear, I’m going with Dr. Hawkins to a special meeting, so you and Gram will get to eat together all by yourself this time.”
He wasn’t ready for that. He reached for her hand and held it tight. “Don’t go, Mama! Eat with us.”
It was Gram who took care of this by taking his other hand. “Let’s go to the kitchen, sweetheart. Maybe you can help me find some of that ham left over from dinner last night, and some cheese. And you can decide whether to have peas or baby carrots for our vegetable.”
He looked less than enthusiastic about any of this until she added, “And there are red grapes for dessert, after we finish the other things.”
He released his mother’s hand and led the way to the kitchen. “I know where the ham is, Gram—in the frigrator’s bottom drawer!”
Gram followed him, her words soft-spoken. “Don’t worry about things here. You two just have a good time!”
Ray saw the uncertainty in Jana’s dark blue eyes when her gaze followed her little boy as he ran into the kitchen. She doesn’t leave Michael much except for school. Ray couldn’t have told how he knew, but he was sure that was true. “Shall we go?” he asked briskly. “They normally begin serving right on time.”
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Eileen Berger
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Between struggling to balance school and parenthood, Jana Jenson′s hands were full. The single mother was not in the market for romance–especially after experiencing the heartache of having her son′s father abandon her.Still, Jana was grateful for the support of the Sylvan Falls community, particularly the kindness of handsome college professor Ray Hawkins….Although a painful lesson from the past had taught Ray to guard his heart, he couldn′t get Jana off his mind. He wanted to shower her with affection and favor her son with the fatherly attention he′d missed. With the ready-made family by his side, he could imagine happily-ever-after was possible. But could he and Jana find strength from above to heal their hurts and face their pasts when their newfound happiness was threatened?