Halfway to Forever (11 page)

The way only sisters could.

Even if Jenny hadn’t intended to, she clearly had expected Grace to be something of a companion. A little sister to her the way she had once been a little sister to Alicia.

The situation had been heartbreaking, and there was nothing Hannah could do about it.

Before the night was over, Jenny apologized for being impatient. But the entire situation had Hannah at a breaking point.

Midway through the second week, Matt linked his arms through hers and pulled her close. “It takes time, Hannah. I’m not willing to give up.”

“Me, either. I just wish I knew what God was doing.”

Matt grinned. “Building a bond between us, maybe?”

Hannah’s mind went blank. “A bond? By giving us a child who won’t talk or smile or respond to us?”

“Ahh, but remember this …” Matt put a finger to Hannah’s lips. “One day when she
does
talk or smile or respond, we’ll know it’s real, won’t we?”

Hannah remained doubtful. Would they ever be able to truly reach Grace? That night she and Matt prayed on their knees in the sand outside their house.

“Give us wisdom, God.” Matt closed his eyes and directed his face toward the starry sky above. “It’s been nine days and she’s so
quiet, so locked up inside. What can we do different, God? Just show us, please. We love her. We’ll wait as long as it takes.”

The breakthrough happened the next day.

Matt was at work and Hannah was making oatmeal when Grace entered the room. She came up beside Hannah and tugged on her sleeve. Hannah smiled at her, but before she had time to speak, Grace tucked her hand in Hannah’s and said, “I have something to tell you.”

Hannah set the spoon down beside the pan and turned to face her. “What, honey?”

“I’m sorry.” Grace lowered her chin, but kept her eyes on Hannah. “I haven’t been very good. I miss my mommy.”

Tears stung at Hannah’s eyes, and she blinked them back, stooping to the child’s level. “That’s okay. You’re still getting used to us, Grace. It takes time.” She hugged her and kissed her cheek.

Grace ran her thumb over Hannah’s hand; her touch was velvet. “Do you like me, Hannah?”

Hannah framed the child’s face with her fingers, brushing the curls back and looking deep into her eyes. “I like you very much.”

Grace doodled an invisible design with her toe. “I’m scared the police will come and take me to jail … but I’m still here.”

Hannah nodded. “I know you miss your mommy, honey. But sometimes God gives little children a new mommy and daddy. Ones that can take care of them better and—” she was treading on slippery ground, but she forged ahead—“And sometimes love them better.”

This time Grace bobbed her head up and down, and throughout breakfast she chattered away about the beach and her toys and Hannah and Matt and Jenny.

“You and Matt are Jenny’s mommy and daddy, right?” Grace had long since finished eating her cereal and now sat opposite Hannah, her hands folded on the table.

“Right.” Hannah wanted to say more.
We’re
your
mommy and daddy, too, Grace
. But she held her tongue.

“Hannah?” Grace cocked her head.

“Yes?”

“You have only one girl, just like my mommy, right?”

Hannah wondered whether the sting of that question would ever go away. “Actually …” She allowed herself to pause. “I had two girls. Jenny and Alicia. But Alicia died a few years ago.”

“Oh.” Grace’s nod was matter-of-fact. “She’s in heaven with Jesus.”

The breath caught in Hannah’s throat. Mrs. Parsons hadn’t gone into detail about Grace’s background, except to say it had been challenging. All they’d been told so far was that Grace was a child with no physical, mental, or emotional disabilities. Whatever that meant.

Still, there’d been no reason to think she adhered to any faith.

“How do you know about Jesus, sweetheart?”

Grace shrugged. “My grandma told me.”

Grandma?
An alarm sounded in the control center of Hannah’s soul. Mrs. Parsons had said there was no extended family, no one who would fight for Grace once her mother’s rights were severed. “Grandma?” Hannah tried to smile. “I didn’t know you had a grandma.”

“I don’t anymore. She died at Christmastime.” Grace folded her arms and swung her feet. “Grandma loved Jesus very much. She told me Jesus was like an invisible Daddy, and sometimes, when Mommy had a bad night, I knew Grandma was right. I could feel my invisible Daddy hold me and keep me safe.”

Hannah fought the urge to let her mouth drop open. The child seated before her—who for more than a week hadn’t spoken to them or shown any sign that she was capable of loving or being loved—not only knew about Christ, but had felt his love in her life.

Before Grace went to sleep that night, she smiled at Hannah. “Know what, Hannah?”

Hannah leaned down and kissed the girl on the forehead. The burden of frustration from the past week lifted like fog. She could hardly wait to tell Jenny about the change in the child. Hannah’s fingers soothed Grace’s brow. “What?”

Grace batted her silky eyelashes. “I like you, too.”

Over the next two weeks there were more moments like that.

One afternoon she and Grace took a walk on the beach and found a sandy knoll where they watched seagulls swooping low over the water. “Know what, Mommy?” Grace looked at her, squinting in the sunlight.

“What, honey?”

“We should sing a song.”

“We should?” Hannah grinned at Grace and reached for her hand.

“Yes. A happy day needs a happy song.”

“Okay.” Hannah nodded, biting her lip to keep from giggling. “What should we sing?”

“You teach me a song.” Grace shaded her eyes with her hand. “Please, Mommy.”

Hannah thought a minute. “Do you know ‘Jesus Loves Me’?”

Grace’s fair eyebrows came together in deep concentration. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, Grace!” Hannah brought her hands together in a series of light claps. “It’s the happiest song of all.”

There and then, with the seagulls providing backup, Hannah taught Grace the familiar tune. Immediately it became Grace’s favorite, and after that they sang it at dinner and every time they walked on the beach.

As Grace opened her heart, every day was more of a blessing
than the day before. Not just to Hannah, but to each of them in different ways.

Two weeks ago Sunday, they’d been coming home from church when Hannah checked the rearview mirror and saw Grace and Jenny holding hands. Three days later she came home from the grocery store and found Grace in Matt’s lap. He was reading to her, nuzzling the side of his face against her creamy cheeks and giggling with her at the silly parts.

Hannah froze in the doorway, moving in slow motion as she set the bags at her feet. She remembered thinking that it was finally happening, just as Matt had known all along. Grace was falling in love with them, and they with her. Not because they were just another nice family who took care of her for a few weeks while her mother dealt with the legal system, but because Grace was starting to understand the truth.

This time she wasn’t going anywhere. She was home. Forever.

A week after that, Jenny took Grace to a park down the street and then out to lunch. When they came home, they both wore gaudy, blue-beaded bracelets and matching grins. “Grace wanted to go shopping.” Jenny laughed and swept the girl up onto her hip. “We bought sister bracelets, right Grace?”

Grace planted a wet kiss on Jenny’s cheek. “Right.” She slid down and ran to Hannah. “Wanna see?”

Hannah studied the band of beads and saw a silver plate on top that read, “Sisters Always.” The words were barely legible through her tears. “That’s wonderful.” She straightened and grinned at Jenny. “I’m sure Jenny won’t take it off for a minute.”

In the days since then, Grace had established a nighttime ritual. Hannah and Matt would walk her up to bed and pray with her. Then they’d give her a chance to pray, and almost always her prayer was the same.

“Dear Jesus, thank you for giving me a family. Please don’t ever take me away from here because this is my home. And I want to live here forever and ever.”

Once in a while, Hannah and Matt exchanged a glance as Grace finished praying. A glance that, in a moment’s time, spoke both their greatest fears and their greatest faith that certainly God would grant the child’s request. Not once in the past three weeks had they voiced concerns that Grace would be anything other than their forever daughter.

With a sigh, Hannah let the memories fade as she worked the sponge into the countertop. They had heard nothing but good news from Mrs. Parsons. The termination process was on schedule, and within six months Grace would be free for adoption. The path ahead looked smooth and without trouble.

Still …

She paused and stared once more out the window at the sea. It would be good when the process was over. When Grace Bronzan would forevermore and legally be Grace Bronzan, and her little-girl prayers could be about schoolwork and making friends and having a good day. The way other little girls’ prayers were.

Then they could get on with life.

The thought sent a piercing reminder through Hannah’s heart. Once the adoption was complete, they could indeed move on. But what about Jade and Tanner and Ty? What about their unborn baby?

It was still almost too much to believe. Jade had cancer? How could she? After all she and Tanner had been through? Hannah pictured Jade in the hospital room the other day. If anyone could make it through brain cancer it was Jade. Hannah smiled. Her friend always fought for what was right, whether as a parent volunteer in Ty’s classroom or by encouraging Tanner in his legal work.

Certainly she would fight now. After all, there could be nothing more right than seeing Jade well again, seeing her baby safely delivered, seeing the four of them become a family, the way Jade and Tanner had always dreamed they’d be.

She thought of the hundreds of conversations she and Jade had held. Together they had shared their life stories, sometimes in laughter, sometimes in tears. They marveled often at how much they had in common, how God had brought both of them through the flames of loss and heartache.

But this time … the situation was as grim as it had ever been. Hannah’s heart skipped a beat as she considered the possibilities. It wasn’t right that Jade was sick. Hadn’t they had enough grief in their lives already?

Hannah held her breath and then exhaled long and slow. As her anxious thoughts faded, she closed her eyes, and with everything in her, she thanked God for the friend she had in Jade Eastman. A friend she had come to love.

Then she begged God to move mountains and part seas … whatever it took, so that one day very soon Jade would be well again.

T
he Fourth of July dawned without a trace of fog and by midmorning Jade had stirred together her famous potato salad. She was ready for taste testers.

It had been a week since her diagnosis, a week since she’d taken her first dose of anti-seizure medication, and so far she was holding her own in the battle. There had been no personality shifts, no changes in her gait or speech. She was tired and less focused, but she was determined not to let Tanner and Ty see even that. It was important that they think she was making progress. Their enthusiasm was bound to make her feel better, which would make the few symptoms she was experiencing all but disappear.

Jade didn’t know if it was the holiday or the fact that she was one week closer to a safe delivery for her baby, but she felt particularly upbeat. She expected the picnic at Matt and Hannah’s later that day to be a huge success.

Jade took a bite of the potato salad and licked her lips. “Okay guys …” She raised her voice so Tanner and Ty would hear her upstairs. “I need tasters.”

A moment later there was a galloping sound above her. “Coming!”

It was Ty. Jade smiled and filled a clean spoon with more of the salad just as he pounded down the stairs and rounded the corner. He took the spoon from her and grinned. “I already know it’s good.”

Jade lowered her chin and put her hands on her hips. “Humor me, okay.” She tousled his hair. “I can never get the spices right till someone else tastes it.”

Ty ate the mouthful in one bite. “Tastes great.” He hesitated. “Well, maybe a few more spider legs.”

He ran from her just as she reached out to paddle him with the spoon. When he was a few feet away, he spun around. “Hey—” his teasing expression faded—“You look great, Mom. I’m praying for you.”

Joy filled Jade’s heart, and she studied her son as she hadn’t in months. He was taller, looking more like his father every day. And he was thirteen. A teenager now, with more maturity and wisdom than most boys his age—maturity and wisdom born of a painful past they’d survived together.

But those days were behind them. They were together now, a family like they always should have been. These were the good days, the times of their lives. Jade clenched her teeth. Nothing would change that, not even her cancer.

“Thanks.” She walked the few steps that separated them and set her hands on Ty’s shoulders. In a year or so he’d be taller than her. “That means a lot.”

Ty winked at her. “I’ll be out back.”

“Okay.” She gave the muscles along his shoulders a couple of quick squeezes and raised her brows. “Impressive. The girls will be lining up at the door.”

“Girls can wait.” He grinned. “I have hoops to play.” He kissed her on the cheek and headed for the backyard and the half-court where he spent much of his time.

“Ty …”

He turned back. “Yeah?”

“Where’s your dad?” Jade hadn’t seen Tanner since that morning.

“Upstairs. We were playing Nintendo, but I beat him right before you called me.”

“Oh.” Jade felt her smile fade. Why hadn’t he come down with
Ty? Was it her imagination or had he been avoiding her? When they were together, all he wanted to talk about was her health, how she was feeling and what changes she was noticing from the medication.

She hid her frustration. “What’s he doing now?”

Ty shrugged. “I think he’s working.”