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A part of him felt the same way that Larissa did. When he looked into his rearview mirror before turning onto the street and saw Marcus and Connie Wheeler standing there arm in arm, watching his progress, his very soul seemed to plunge to the deepest level of despair.
Marcus placed the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table and took up his fork.
“Looks good,” he said, surveying his full plate. “I always thank God that they taught you how to cook at that group home.”
Connie smiled. “You always find something to be thankful for in every situation.”
“I try,” he admitted, cutting into his pan-grilled chicken breast. “I’m having a little trouble with the Oakes situation, though.”
Connie steepled her hands over her plate, elbows braced against the tabletop.
“Marcus, you can’t just put her out.”
“I know. Unfortunately, I have to do something. I spent the afternoon talking to every other day care provider in the area and all of them said that it isn’t fair to subject the other children to Larissa’s problems, but how do we, as Christians, turn her away?”
“It is such a tragic situation,” Connie commented, looking to her son with deep gratitude. Perhaps her own life had not been easy, but Russell was wonderful.
Thank God for Jolie!
Connie leaned forward and caught a dollop of mashed potato in her hand before it hit the floor. Russell grinned and shook his spoon again, sprinkling mashed potato on the tray of his high chair before tossing the spoon overboard and going after his dinner with his fingers. Connie patiently picked up the spoon, cleaned it and lay it aside. They would practice with it later once he’d knocked the edge off his hunger.
“You’ve no idea how tragic, really,” Marcus said.
It wasn’t the first time he’d made such a comment.
“Can you tell me?” Connie asked, aware that he was bound by ethical considerations.
Marcus thought it over and said, “I can tell you this much. Mrs. Oakes died from an allergic reaction while Kendal was out of town on business and Larissa spent nearly two whole days by herself before he returned.”
Connie gasped. “Two days?”
“She was just over a year old at the time,” Marcus went on. “I think it traumatized both father and child, and I don’t think either one of them was prepared to deal with it. In the nine months since, I think it must have gone from bad to worse, but he’s desperately trying. He moved here from Oklahoma because a certain doctor here was recommended to him. He opened a new branch office of his company and everything. My understanding is that the child has been diagnosed with some sort of detachment disorder.”
“Oh my,” Connie said, remembering that Kendal had mentioned a doctor earlier. “Isn’t there anything that we can do?”
Marcus sighed. “There has to be a solution, but frankly, I haven’t found one yet. We’ll just have to keep praying about it.”
“Yes, I will,” she vowed, feeling a little guilty because lately her prayers seemed to have been all about her.
At least, she’d found a solution to her situation. She hoped she had anyway.
Broaching the topic with her brother at last, she waited anxiously for his reaction.
“What do you think?”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and studied his plate for a long time.
“I’m all for education, Connie, you know that. But are you sure that dental hygiene is the right field for you?
“Why wouldn’t it be? It pays well and the hours are flexible.”
“Those are good points,” he agreed, “but I can’t help thinking that you should pursue something that you’re really passionate about.”
She spread her hands. “Such as what?”
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me. What do you feel most passionate about in your life?”
That was easy to answer, but it clearly offered no solution to her dilemma.
“I’m most passionate about being a mother,” she said, “but that means that I have to do something to properly support my son.”
“But there’s no hurry,” Marcus argued. “We’re not hurting for money.”
“It’s your money, Marcus. I have to start earning my own way sometime.”
“You already do. Just look at this fine meal you’ve cooked for me,” he pointed out. Spreading his arms, he went on. “This was just a house before, Connie, somewhere to sleep and change my clothes. You’ve made it a real home for me.”
“And what happens when you marry?” she asked pointedly.
He snorted and went back to his meal, muttering “That’s not likely to happen anytime soon—if ever.”
“You don’t know that! Just look at Jolie and Vince. Six months ago, they didn’t even know each other existed.”
“Is that what this is about?” he asked with some exasperation. “Jolie’s wedding has you thinking that I might be next? Connie, I haven’t even been out on a date in…ages.”
“And aren’t likely to as long as I’m underfoot,” she retorted.
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“Then why aren’t you dating?”
“I could ask the same thing of you,” he pointed out.
“Me?” She thumped herself in the chest with her knuckles. “And who would date me?”
“Any man with eyes in his head.”
“Any decent man would run fast in the opposite direction as soon as he found out about my past.”
Marcus frowned. “You can’t believe that.”
“Okay, let me put it this way. I don’t want anyone who wouldn’t be upset by my past.”
“Connie!” He dropped his fork. “Think about what you’re saying. You’re limiting God with that attitude. You realize that, don’t you?”
“I’m not limiting God. I’m just being realistic,” she argued.
“Connie, listen to me. You can’t just shut yourself off from possibilities. I mean, we just don’t know what God has in store for us. Think about it. Jolie would never have even met Vince if he had forwarded his mail before she moved into his old apartment! If God can use something that simple, surely He can use anything to bring whatever or whomever it is we need into our lives.”
“I understand your point,” Connie conceded, “and believe me, if God sends me a man who can overlook my past and be the father—”
“And husband,” Marcus interrupted pointedly.
“And husband,” she amended, “that Russell and I need, I’ll be forever grateful.”
“Excellent,” he said, picking up his fork, “except I think it’s when not if, and in the meantime, I hope you’ll reconsider that school thing. I’d really like to see you find something you can be more passionate about than dental hygiene.”
“Unfortunately,” she pointed out with a sigh, “being a mom is not something about which the world is very passionate.”
“Tell that to Larissa Oakes,” he muttered.
Connie caught her breath. What if she could…but no. She shook her head.
Child care was not a viable option. Not even the day care center at her brother’s church could hire her because of her record. She’d do better to go on to school. There were worse things than dental hygiene—much worse—and who knew, once she got into it, she might discover a passion for it. And so what if she didn’t? She had Russell. He was all she needed.
For the moment, she dropped the subject of school, but she wasn’t yet willing to let go of it entirely. Marcus meant well. Marcus always meant well because that’s the kind of person her big brother had always been.
She, on the other hand, had made grave mistakes that she would have to pay for the rest of her life. Expecting anything else would be not only unrealistic but also presumptuous. After all, how much could a woman in her position expect? God had already blessed her much more richly than she deserved.
Chapter Four
“Baby, don’t,” Kendal pleaded, trying to pry Larissa’s arms from around the day care teacher’s neck.
His daughter hadn’t been happy for a single moment in his company since she’d awakened after Connie Wheeler had belted her into her car seat the day before. Other times, he’d been able to distract her with music or books or food, but since yesterday, she’d howled every moment that she was awake and in his presence. He tried not to take it personally—he really did—but it was hard not to when his own daughter gave every sign of hating him.
Maybe I should give her up to her grandparents, he thought again, but everything in him rebelled against the idea. She was his daughter. He loved her and wanted her with him.
Besides, Laura’s parents were cold, stiff people who, in his opinion, had scarred his late wife emotionally. He didn’t want them doing the same thing to his daughter.
He supposed that his father and stepmother would take Larissa if he asked, but since his father’s retirement, they had become passionate about traveling. He had never been comfortable asking Louise for anything anyway.
He had been fourteen when his father married Louise. She had two daughters older than him and neither had ever paid him much attention. Louise had always been pleasant, and Kendal had long ago accepted that she made his father happy, but he could never think of her as his mother.
Exasperated by the whole situation, he momentarily stopped trying to take his daughter into his arms. Larissa hung on to Miss Annette like a leech, but she stopped howling when he stopped trying to take her from the teacher.
He shoved a hand through his unruly hair. The woman was a substitute, for pity’s sake. She wasn’t even her regular teacher. Larissa couldn’t have formed a real attachment to her in such a short time. He could understand Connie Wheeler, but not her.
Swallowing his pride, he surrendered to the inevitable.
“Is Mrs. Wheeler around?”
Annette gave him a blank look.
“Connie Wheeler,” he clarified. “Is she working today?”
“Oh, Miss Connie doesn’t work here,” Annette stated flatly.
He was surprised. She always seemed to be around. Perhaps she worked elsewhere on the church grounds, as a secretary or something.
“Where does she work?”
“I don’t think she works anywhere,” the day care teacher replied, screwing up her face as if thinking required much effort. “I heard she was looking for something, though.”
Kendal glanced at his watch, filing that information away. Ministers didn’t usually make very much money, and he assumed that the Wheelers could use a little extra income. That, however, was not his problem.
Looked like he was on his own.
Mentally fortifying himself, he reached for his daughter again. She bucked, arched her back and screamed. Resigned to another difficult evening, he physically pulled the child into his embrace. She thrashed for several seconds.
She stopped fighting him by the time he got her to the car and he prayed all the way home that this would be an end to it, at least for the evening.
Connie lifted her chin, pasted on a smile and did her best to set aside her troubling thoughts.
Her afternoon interview at the school had not gone as well as she’d hoped. The counselor had warned her pointblank that many prospective employers would not consider hiring her because of her record. He suggested that she consider a field that did not touch on medicine or the administration of drugs in any form, and he hadn’t altered his advice one whit when she explained her situation.
Heartsick, Connie surveyed the school’s course offerings again, but nothing that the counselor suggested had seemed workable.
She indulged in a bout of tears as she drove herself back to the church to pick up her son.
She wasn’t even inside the building when she heard the commotion, and to her shock, Millie was not at her post. The frail woman came running the instant she heard the chime that signaled the door had been opened, and the look on her face said that the uproar had been going on for some time.
“Miss Connie!” she gasped. “Your brother is even back there.”
“Larissa Oakes?” Connie guessed and Millie nodded, her mouth set in a distraught line.
“She didn’t want to eat her lunch—not one bite—and when Miss Susan tried to feed her, she started to cry. Then Miss Dabney scolded her and she’s been carrying on ever since.”
“Is her father here?” Connie asked, already turning toward the hall.
“Yes, and if you ask me,” Millie said, “that has only made matters worse.”
Connie sent her a disapproving frown as she hurried away.
Anyone could see that the man was doing the best he could. She, for one, was tired of the implication that he was causing this.
Rounding the corner at a near run, she came to a sudden halt, taking in the chaos.
Larissa stood against the wall next to the infirmary door with both arms around the nurse’s leg. She was trembling from head to toe, red in the face and wailing, nose and eyes running like faucets while Kendal Oakes and Miss Dabney glared at each other and Marcus and the nurse looked on helplessly.
“Just because she doesn’t like corned beef is no reason to label her mentally deficient!” Kendal declared hotly.
“I’m only saying that we can’t have her disrupting everything constantly!” Miss Dabney countered. “We have other children here—well children.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kendal demanded. “Are you implying that my daughter is mentally ill?”
“This isn’t helping!” Marcus insisted with steady authority. “Everyone just please calm down.”
Miss Dabney swallowed whatever she was about to say, folding her arms mulishly. Kendal clamped his jaw, his hands at his waist. Even Larissa shut up, but Connie saw the child’s eyes bulge.
