When Joy Came to Stay

  Kathy noticed a squirrel scurrying down the trunk of a tree just outside the office window. Even he has a home, Lord…

  Her eyes welled up again. The Brownells were better than anything she’s been dealt since then. We’d take her in a minute if we could, God. You know that. She and Bill had brainstormed several times ideas for buying a bigger house. They knew no judge in the county would award them another child until they had more room. They’d already petitioned for an exception, and been denied. Dear God, there has to be someone for her…somewhere out there. Please… Another tear fell. She’s a good girl, Lord, but every month, every year that goes by…it’ll take a miracle to find her a family now.

  Amanda had been shy before the death of her adoptive parents. Now she had slight learning disabilities and trouble attaching to people. When she was scared or anxious she stuttered, so in addition to weekly counseling and special education courses, the child was mandated to receive speech therapy.

  Kathy closed her eyes and loosed two more tears. It wasn’t fair. The child’s file was full of “problem areas,” tarnished judgments that in all likelihood would scare off potential adoptive parents and send them hurrying to private agencies for younger children without the baggage Amanda carried.

  She wiped her tears and gazed out the dining room window once more. I’m not a miracle worker, God. But You are. Please…please help me find someone who’ll give her a home.

  Then because she knew too well the department’s statistics, she added one more thing. And hurry, Lord. She thought of the children who started out sweet and anxious for love only to become jaded and antisocial after too many transfers to different foster homes, too many years waiting for a family that never came. Despite her file, Amanda Joy was not yet one of those. But she could be if something didn’t change soon.

  Kathy sighed softly and folded up the newspaper. Yes, God would have to speed things up if He was going to work a miracle this time. The child needed a home and parents who loved her, and she needed it now.

  Before it was too late.

  Six

  BEN STOVALL STARED OUT THE WINDOW OF HIS FOURTH-STORY office and wondered exactly when his life had started falling apart.

  Days like this it was difficult to concentrate on establishing motives or gathering depositions. A death penalty case couldn’t have mattered less to him now that it seemed clear his marriage was crumbling. And no matter how long or hard he thought about it, he couldn’t come up with a single reason why.

  Everything about his life with Maggie had seemed literally plucked from a storybook. They were married young, both strong believers bent on putting God first in their relationship. And though there hadn’t been any children, Ben believed there would be one day. Whenever God deemed it right. And if not, then he believed it was because the Lord had a different plan. Adoption, maybe. Or more years of foster children.

  Ben loved the idea of affecting the lives of a different set of children every year or so. Besides, things were going well at work and he figured the coming spring might be a great time to initiate a private adoption. Live right and experience the rewards. That had always been his motto.

  For that reason, Ben knew there’d be children one day. After all, he and Maggie had done everything right in their relationship. They had been pure when they came together on their wedding night and had remained faithful to each other since. They tithed at church, prayed daily, and read their Bibles—usually cover to cover in any given year.

  Ben thought about that for a moment. Well, maybe not daily. But for the most part he and Maggie lived a godly life. Even at work they did whatever they could to please the Lord, and He had always rewarded their efforts. After all, blessings didn’t come any bigger than Maggie having her own column. Not in the newspaper business, anyway.

  Between her job and his, they pulled in a steady six-figure salary, and because they were in their early thirties they had plenty of time for children.

  Outside his window a sparrow appeared from nowhere and began attacking a much larger crow. Probably protecting his nest. Ben watched them for a few minutes, thinking.

  What was it Maggie had said? “You don’t know me…you never have.” He could see her face, the way it was cloaked in discouragement, as though she were holding back a very deep, dark secret. What did she mean he didn’t know her? Of course he knew her.

  Didn’t he?

  Now, alone in his office, he wasn’t so sure.

  He remembered the first time he saw Maggie, when their churches had joined a handful of others in Cleveland for a statewide prayer rally. The event had lasted all weekend and had included numerous activities. It was during the tug-of-war competition, when his church’s college group was about to beat the group on the other end of the rope, that Ben spotted her.

  She was without a doubt the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. He would never forget the way she’d made him feel that day, all tingly inside as if something magical had happened. Both hands securely on his team’s end of the rope, Ben had leaned to the side for a better view of her. In the process, the rope slipped and he fell to the ground. He could still close his eyes and see Maggie grinning at him as she and her team doubled their efforts and won the event before Ben could get up.

  His attraction for her increased daily after that, despite the fact that he was dating someone else at the time. Ben sighed. Those first years for he and Maggie were rough. They wrote and talked on the phone, and in his heart he knew there was no one else he could spend the rest of his life with. But the girl he was dating came from a family that his parents had known all their lives. There was no easy way to break things off—especially after the accident.

  If I could do one thing over again…

  Ben let the thought hang there. When he had been unable to end things with his girlfriend, he and Maggie agreed to go on with their separate lives. Of course after only eighteen months apart, they had found each other again and began dating exclusively. But somehow Maggie had seemed different than before, older than her years, less willing to share…

  He frowned. Was it possible she could have held that time against him? Harbored anger because he had chosen another girl for that period in his life?

  Ben shook his head. Ridiculous. Whatever was happening to Maggie now it was a phase, nothing more. All that had ever mattered was how he felt about her when they found each other again. How he’d felt about her ever since. If he could do anything over again he would have broken things off with the other girl immediately. Maggie had to know that. But he’d been so young, so confused. After the accident it seemed that staying with his old girlfriend was the right thing to do.

  Ben turned his attention toward the work on his desk. Impossible. Whatever was troubling Maggie couldn’t be rooted in something that had happened so long ago.

  Still, as he set about dealing with the tasks at hand, trying to put Maggie’s hurtful words out of his heart and head, Ben was troubled by one very serious suspicion: What if…

  What if, despite living a pure life and being devoted to God, Maggie had turned into someone else, someone who had hidden her real feelings from him for months or years. Ben hated himself for even entertaining the thought, but it was possible that Maggie was right. Maybe she was pretending around him. And maybe somehow, no matter how much he had always loved her, Maggie had changed, become someone Ben didn’t even know.

  He glanced at his watch and saw that it was four o’clock. One more hour and he would wrap things up. He picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number he’d long since memorized. “Hi, this is Ben Stovall.”

  A woman answered on the third ring. “Hello, Ben.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “What can I help you with today?”

  He grinned, sure this was the answer he was looking for. “I need a dozen long-stemmed red roses for this evening.”

  “Very good, and a white ribbon like usual?”

  “Yes, like usual.”

  Ben felt better when he hung up the re
ceiver. Maggie was wrong; of course he knew her. She was his soul mate, his best friend. And whatever was troubling her yesterday, why it was nothing that couldn’t be made better with a bouquet of flowers. She loved red roses, especially when there wasn’t any special occasion.

  “It’s a celebration of our love,” Ben liked to tell her. And it was. She was the perfect woman, handpicked for him by God above. He loved her more than life itself.

  He thought of the roses again and grinned. He could hardly wait to see the expression on her face when he brought them home.

  Maggie had the strangest feeling…

  It was as if she were single again.

  As if by being even somewhat honest she had severed ties to Ben, to the man she married, the man to whom she been lying for nearly eight years.

  For that reason—or maybe because the little blond girl hadn’t yet made her daily appearance—Maggie was looking forward to her run in the park. For months it had been her favorite way to spend the hour between finishing up at work and picking up the boys at their bus stop. The first lap was effortless, and as she ran Maggie thought about her columns, how they might help children caught in the foster system. They were a good influence on society, good for her career. Even if her personal life was falling apart, even if there were times when the darkness seemed overwhelming, she was still doing something useful. Helping in some small way.

  Maggie picked up her pace and as she rounded the corner of the trail, she saw a blur of motion near the playground, a hundred yards away From this distance it was hard to make her out, but then…

  Maggie pushed herself faster, her eyes trained on the child. Her view was better now. The child was swinging, while a teenager—a baby-sitter or older sister—sat with a teenage boy at a nearby picnic table. Closer, Maggie. Get closer. With only fifty yards between them she spotted the hair.

  Long blond curls. It was her! This time it wasn’t a mirage or a figment of her imagination or any other such thing. It was a living, breathing child, and Maggie was almost certain it was the same girl she’d been seeing. Who is she, God? Why is she here?

  Maggie was sprinting now. She wouldn’t approach the girl, not yet. Not until she was absolutely sure it was her. Even then she didn’t want to scare the girl. Maggie kept running until she was parallel with the child. Glancing over her left shoulder she saw the girl’s face. Yes! It was her; there was no doubt in Maggie’s mind.

  Not sure what to do next, Maggie kept moving. Whatever terrible force desired her, it wouldn’t catch her here—not with the little girl so close. If only I could talk to the child, ask her who her mother is, learn more about her. Then maybe I’d understand why my thoughts are so filled with her image…Especially now, nearly eight years after—

  Run, Maggie! Faster…faster!

  Three laps around the park equaled a mile, and usually Maggie did no more than six laps. But as long as the little girl stayed on the swing, moving back and forth, smiling and unaware of her presence, Maggie kept running. Twelve laps, fourteen…sixteen…

  Finally, on the eighteenth lap, Maggie realized her heart was pounding erratically and her vision was blurred. She clutched her side, dropped her pace to an unsteady walk, and headed for the little girl.

  Without saying a word, Maggie dropped into the swing beside the child and smiled at her. “Hi. My name’s Maggie.”

  Before the girl could respond, Maggie felt a hand take hold of her upper arm and she spun around, jerking free from the grip. Fear sliced through her gut like a hacksaw. God, please, no…

  The man standing beside her wore a police uniform and a badge that glistened in the midafternoon sun. “Ma’am, I’d like to have a word with you, please.” He motioned toward a grassy area several feet away.

  “Nicky! Nicky!”

  At the sound of the child’s cries, Maggie turned back to her at once. The girl had jumped from the swing and was running toward an older boy and girl seated at a nearby table. Then the child glanced back at Maggie…and Maggie’s whole body went cold.

  This wasn’t a blond little girl. Instead, the child running away from the swings had red hair and a freckled face. But…where did she go? Why is this happening again? What’s wrong with my eyes? Am I that far gone, Lord? Maggie stared at the child and then directed her attention back to the officer. She was sweaty and rumpled and desperately in need of a water fountain. She had never run six miles in her life, and now she was about to be interrogated by a policeman.

  “I think I’m going to faint.” Maggie slipped her head between her knees and urged herself to breathe slowly. After several seconds, she raised her head and looked over her shoulder. The officer was waiting.

  “I’m serious, ma’am. Get up. I need to talk to you.”

  “Sorry, I just…I don’t feel very well.” Maggie rose up off the swing and followed him, terrified that she would collapse and be taken away in an ambulance or worse, be arrested in the park adjacent to the office where she worked. If her peers got hold of the story…

  Help me, God…please!

  When they were a distance away from the playground the policeman turned and faced her. “I’m Officer Andrew Starmer. Got a call from one of the neighbors in the condominiums across the street that a female jogger was stalking a child on the playground.”

  Maggie saw black spots dance before her eyes. Breathe. Breathe, Maggie. Don’t faint now. “A female jogger?”

  The officer glanced at her sweatsuit and nodded. “Did you know that child, ma’am?”

  “Child?”

  Officer Starmer sighed. “Yes, the one you were talking to.”

  “Oh, her. I, uh…I thought she was my niece. My niece lives near here and plays at the park all the time.”

  The officer raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what, why don’t you follow me to the car, and I’ll make a report. Just to be sure.”

  Panic coursed through Maggie’s veins. “An arrest report?” She did her best to sound indignant. What have I done, Lord? Help me.

  “No. Just informational. Take down your name, that kind of thing.”

  Maggie wiped her hands on her pants legs and released a laugh that said there must have been a mistake. “Officer, I work across the street. I jog at this park every day at this time. I thought the girl was my niece. Isn’t that enough information?”

  Officer Starmer eyed her for a long moment. Let him believe me, please…“You work at the newspaper?”

  “Yes. My car’s parked there right now.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Okay. Just be aware that people are sensitive about strangers getting too close to kids. You read your paper, right?”

  “Sure.” Oh, thank You, God. He doesn’t recognize me, doesn’t know I’m a columnist. “Right. Definitely. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The officer glanced once more at the redheaded girl then back to Maggie. “If you’ve finished your jog, why don’t you make your way back to the office.”

  “I’m on my way.” Maggie smiled at him and nodded as she and the officer headed in different directions. She was ten steps away before she remembered to exhale.

  That was too close. What if he’d taken my name? What if he’d arrested me or taken me in for questioning? What was I doing there anyway? And why does the child keep disappearing? Who is she?

  Come into the light, child.

  What light? Maggie argued with the still, silent whisper. There hasn’t been light for years.

  She had the strangest feeling she was forgetting something but she could hardly stop and think about it. Not with the officer watching her from his squad car across the park. She opened her car door just as her cell phone began to ring inside her purse on the front seat. Instantly her eyes flew to the watch on her wrist.

  The boys! That was it! She had forgotten the boys.

  Maggie tore open her purse and grabbed the phone, speaking in a voice that sounded half-crazed even to her. “Hello?” Her heart raced and she was assaulted by a wave of nausea.

  “Mrs. Stov
all?”

  “Yes, I’m late to get the boys. Are they okay?” Her words spilled out in a panicky blur.

  “Uh…yes. They’re back at school. They waited at the bus stop for thirty minutes, and apparently one of your neighbors verified you weren’t home. She contacted the school, and we sent the bus back out.”

  This was crazy. She was losing her mind. Everything she was doing proved that. She needed to be honest, ask for help. Maggie’s mind raced.

  “I…my car…” She cast a frustrated glance upward, grasping at anything that might sound logical. “It…my car broke down and I…I was just going to call and see…make sure they were okay.”

  The school secretary hesitated. “I had to contact Social Services, Mrs. Stovall. These children are wards of the state and anytime something like this happens…”

  What was she insinuating? That Maggie was an abusive foster mother? That she and Ben were no better than the foster parents she referred to in her column? Maggie thought of how she’d failed even to tuck the boys in the night before, and a murky cloud of fear suffocated her. Get a grip, Maggie. Come on. Her racing pulse was causing her body to tremble, making it difficult for her to speak.

  How could I have forgotten the boys?

  “What did…what did Social Services say?”

  “They said these kinds of things happen and they made a note of it.” The woman paused again, and Maggie could hear disapproval in her tone, almost see the indignation on her face. And if the officer had taken her name…She couldn’t bring herself to think about it.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Please tell them I’m coming.” Maggie hung up the phone and steadied herself. How could I forget them? I love those boys. They may not be worth much in the eyes of society, but right now I’m all they have. And I let them down.

  You’re a wretch! Worthless. The voice in her head had changed from doubt and discouragement to a devilish hiss. No one would notice if you drove off a cliff, Maggie Stovall.