The day care director returned to the day care center, leaving the pastor to bring up the rear.
Larissa grumbled when the bright sunlight and cold air hit her, but at least she was wearing her coat. Next time, she might not be. He made a mental note to put a blanket in the car for such occasions.
Opening up the car door, he stood aside as Connie went through the arduous task of getting a toddler into a car seat. Not surprisingly, Larissa awoke in the process. It was too much to hope that she wouldn’t, of course, but once again it meant driving away with his daughter screaming for the woman.
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,”