Another Way Home Read online

  “Sure.” Now Corinne sounded wary. “Is everything OK?”

  “I just ran into Heather March at the mall. Remember her?”

  “Sure. She used to go to youth group at Langhorne Community, right?”

  “Heather said she ran into you a couple weeks ago.”

  Silence.

  “Corinne? She said she saw you in Dr. Pharr’s office.”

  “Oh, Danae . . .”

  “Is that true?” Her grip tightened on the phone.

  “I’m sorry, Danae. I was going to tell you. I just . . . I knew it would be—”

  “Are you pregnant, Corinne?” The trembling started again only this time it wasn’t just her hands.

  “I was going to tell you. I swear.”

  She let out a breath. “It’s true then. You’re pregnant. And I find out from someone on the street. I made a complete fool of myself.” She really hadn’t meant for it to come out with such bitterness. But there it was. “Does everybody else know?”

  “No, of course not. We haven’t told anyone yet. We—”

  “Anyone except Heather March.”

  “Danae, I would have told her not to say anything, if I thought there was any chance you’d run into each other, but I . . .” Corinne’s soft sigh came over the line. “I’m so sorry, sis. Really, I am. I was planning to tell you. Soon. But . . . where are you now? Are you at home?”

  “No. I’m in the car. I’m still at the mall.” She willed her voice not to break.

  “Do you want to come over and talk? I’d offer to come there, but the girls are already in bed and Jesse has class tonight.”

  “So, when are you due?”

  “In May. Or maybe early June.”

  Danae did the math—something she was good at, having calculated an imaginary due date every month for the past three years of her life. “So you’re already almost two months along?” She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice.

  “We didn’t plan this, Danae. Please come by the house so we can talk about it in person,” Corinne pled. “I know you’re angry, but—”

  “I’m not angry!” She knew it was a lie the minute the words were out. But it wasn’t Corinne she was mad at.

  “Will you please come by?”

  “Let me call home first. Dallas doesn’t know where I am.”

  “OK. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Danae hung up and started to call home, but the tears were too close. He’d think something was wrong and freak out if he heard her crying. She put the phone back in her purse, leaned her head on the steering wheel, and let the tears come.

  It wasn’t fair. Three beautiful, healthy daughters wasn’t enough for Corinne? She had to rub it in and make it an even four? The way God had been operating lately, it’d probably be twins. Maybe triplets. Even as the thoughts came, she knew she wasn’t being fair. Jesse and Corinne had every right to have as many kids as they desired.

  But it didn’t seem fair that even though her sister was older than her by two years, she would soon have a four-kid jump on Danae. Corinne said they hadn’t planned this baby. But that was exactly what made it all the more unfair. Why would God do that? Why did he give children to people who didn’t even want them, hadn’t even planned them, while those who would give anything for a baby were denied month after month, year after year?

  And if it wasn’t bad enough that her sister was having another baby, now she and Dallas would feel even guiltier that they lived in Corinne and Jesse’s big new house, while the family of soon-to-be-six was crammed into the little house.

  The truth struck her now like a slap in the face. It wasn’t really her sister’s house that had been her dream. It was Corinne’s life.

  The evening had grown cool so she started the car and turned on the heater. Fine then. She’d go talk to her sister and hear all about the new little niece or nephew who was on the way. And when Corinne and Jesse told the family, she would smile and pretend to be happy for her sister. She would bury her pain and go on with her life. But another little piece of hope had crumbled from the thin veneer she’d covered herself in. She formed her fists into knots. She wasn’t sure how much more that veneer could crumble without being fatal.

  And she wasn’t sure who her fury was directed at—unless it was God.

  3

  Corinne’s car was the only one in the driveway when Danae pulled in a few minutes later. That meant Jesse had already left for class. He and Corinne had to park outside since their garage was full of furniture and other items that wouldn’t fit into this much smaller house.

  Danae eyed the silhouette of stacked boxes through the windows in the garage door, wondering which ones contained all the baby clothes Corinne had packed up during the move. She tried not to think about the carefully folded stacks of baby clothes in the closet of the nursery at her house. Clothes she’d collected through years of waiting. And longing.

  It still felt strange to ring the doorbell on the house she and Dallas had called home for five of their first six years of marriage.

  Corinne answered and immediately pulled her into a hug. “Come in, sis.”

  “Congratulations, Corinne,” she said over her sister’s shoulder, working to keep her voice cheerful.

  “Thank you.” Corinne hugged her again before releasing her.

  “I’m happy for you guys. I really am.” She couldn’t seem to keep her gaze from traveling to her sister’s belly.

  Corinne seemed not to notice and opened the door wider. “Come on in. I’ll make you some of that tea you liked so much last time you were here.”

  Danae took a step back. This was awkward enough. She really didn’t want to stay. “Thanks, but—I probably shouldn’t stay too long. Dallas will be getting antsy.”

  Corinne set her lips in a thin line and stepped over the threshold, nudging the welcome mat on the porch. Finally she looked up. “I’m sorry, Danae. I really am. I don’t know what else to say.” She shrugged.

  “I just . . . I wonder when it’s going to be my turn. You know?”

  “I do know. And I don’t understand why you’re having to wait so long for your dream. I know it must seem totally unfair that we weren’t even planning this baby, and . . . here we are.”

  “Yes. If you want to know the truth, it does seem unfair. And I don’t understand. Not at all. I—” Her voice broke and she shook her head, at a loss for words.

  “I’m so sorry, Danae. But I hope you appreciate what you do have. I don’t mean to be making comparisons here. I really don’t, but it’s not like I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted in the world. It’s not exactly easy to see you living in my dream house while we try to figure out where to squeeze a new baby.”

  Danae bit her lip against words she knew she’d regret, and said instead, “Well, I’d trade you places in a heartbeat.”

  “I know you would. I know that.” Corinne laid a hand on

  her arm.

  “So, when are you going to tell the rest of them?”

  “Probably next Tuesday night. But we haven’t told the girls yet, and you know once we do it will be all over town, so . . .” She shrugged.

  “So is this going to be your boy?”

  “I’m sure Jesse is hoping so. Poor guy is so outnumbered there’s really no hope.” Corinne led the way through the house and they sat in the corner of the tiny eat-in kitchen.

  “Where are you going to put a baby?” The question hadn’t sounded so bitter before she spoke it.

  Corinne’s eyes filled with pained tears.

  It tugged at Danae’s heart. “I’m sure everything will work out fine.” But that came out all wrong too. She hated the tone in her own voice, hated what she was feeling toward her sister right now, but she couldn’t seem to make her words cooperate.

  “Danae—” It came out in a sob. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m so sorry you had to find out from someone else. I’m sorry I’m pregnant. We didn’t plan this baby, and I don’t know where we’re going
to put it. If I could somehow make this baby be yours, you know I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  Danae stared. For a split second she wondered if Corinne was actually offering to . . . be a surrogate or something. She shuddered. That would just be too weird. And even if it wouldn’t, she’d broached the subject of adopting with Dallas before and it was a closed door as far as he was concerned. She wanted their own baby too. She wanted to experience every awful and wonderful moment of pregnancy, of childbirth, of breastfeeding her baby. Things nearly every other woman she knew took for granted.

  When she was six or seven and learned how babies came into the world, she’d spent hours stuffing her shirts with mounds of towels, pretending to be pregnant, then producing for her labor—after much groaning and panting—Cabbage Patch Kids or stuffed bears or otters, and later, full-grown American Girl dolls.

  Still, if she were offered a baby for adoption tomorrow, she would take it and rejoice. “You said you’re due in May?”

  “We’re not sure when I conceived. I think I must have skipped a couple of pills while we were in the middle of moving. I promise we weren’t trying.”

  “Corinne, it doesn’t matter if you were. You don’t owe me an explanation, and it’s none of my business if you have six kids.” The words made more sense, sounded more true when she said them aloud than when she had tried to mentally convince herself earlier.

  Her phone rang in her purse. Dallas’s ringtone. “Oh, dear . . . I forgot to call and let Dallas know I was coming over. Hang on.”

  “Go ahead.” Corinne gave a nod. “I need to go check on the kids anyway.” She slid from her chair and went back to the bedroom where the girls all shared a room.

  Danae answered, “Hey, babe. Sorry I didn’t call. I’m at Corinne’s.”

  “I wondered. Do you want me to wait on you for supper?”

  “You haven’t eaten yet?”

  “No. I thought you’d be home any minute. I didn’t see a note that said otherwise.” He sounded irritated.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Give me twenty minutes. And if you want to go ahead and eat, it’s ready to dish up. Just turn the Crock-Pot—”

  “Yeah, I got it. I’ll see you whenever. If I’m not already in bed.” The line went dead.

  Great. Now she had a wounded husband to soothe when she got home. Sometimes she wasn’t sure it was worth it to even stay on this dead-end track they seemed to be on. Dr. Gwinn still seemed optimistic, but was it realistic to keep on hoping after three years of trying—and failing?

  She’d heard enough stories about people who finally gave up, and of course, that was when the miracle of life finally happened for them. She and Dallas had talked about it before, but she’d told him—and he agreed—she wasn’t sure she could truly give up and not be thinking in the back of her mind that this would finally be the magic solution they’d been looking for.

  Corinne appeared in the hallway with a sleepy toddler on

  one hip.

  “Simone! Hey, sweetie. How are you?” Danae reached out to finger a blonde ringlet. Her heart melted—and then twisted—at the sight of her adorable niece.

  “I’m sorry. Do you mind if I rock her while we talk?”

  “It’s OK. Dallas is waiting supper on me, so I probably should go anyway.”

  “I’m sorry,” Corinne said again, and Danae felt personally responsible for the pain etched across her sister’s forehead.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, sis. I’m happy for you.” She pasted on a smile—one that was starting to feel oddly normal, if not genuine. “Please don’t give it another thought. I’m excited for the rest of the family to find out.”

  Corinne gave her a grateful smile. Simone grinned at Danae from the safety of her mother’s arms and stretched out one pudgy hand.

  “Bye, sweetie.” She took Simone’s hand and leaned in and kissed the toddler’s smooth cheek before looking up at Corinne. “Bye, sis. Tell Jesse and the big girls hi for me. See you guys Tuesday.”

  Corinne hiked the baby up on her hip and gave Danae a little wave.

  Danae hurried to the car before the tears started again.

  * * *

  Gritting his teeth, Dallas paced the length of the kitchen that was three times the distance of the kitchen in their old house. The house they’d worked so hard to pay off. Each time he reached the front of the house, he parted the curtains and looked across the circle drive and down the street to see if he could spot Danae’s headlights.

  He didn’t mind her going to visit her sisters. To tell the truth, he was glad she had them to talk to. He got enough of her angst as it was. If he’d had to listen to her moan and cry every time she got her period and mourn not being pregnant as if she’d lost an actual baby, he just might go mad.

  He wanted children too. It wasn’t that. Yet, if it didn’t happen, he could be content. But it was starting to seem like Danae couldn’t. It was starting to seem like he wasn’t enough for her. Which didn’t make a guy feel very confident in his marriage.

  He heard a vehicle and turned on his heel in the middle of the kitchen. The car sped past, but before he turned away, he saw her headlights round the curve into their driveway. He exhaled, determined not to start a fight. It seemed like all they did lately was fight. But he wasn’t sure he could go through the motions of comforting her one more time.

  He dispensed ice into glasses and poured tea to go with their supper.

  The minute she walked through the door, he could tell she’d been crying. “Hey . . . Everything OK?”

  “Corinne’s pregnant.”

  Uh-oh. “Seriously? Again?”

  She nodded and shrugged out of her jacket.

  “But everything’s OK with the baby?”

  “Of course. Everything’s always OK with everybody else’s baby.”

  “Danae . . .”

  She glared at him. “Well, it’s true, Dallas. I don’t understand. Why is this so hard—so impossible—for us? I just don’t understand.”

  He put the pitcher of tea down on the counter and went to take her in his arms. It was all he knew to do. He’d run out of words a long time ago.

  “It’ll be OK.”

  She tensed. “You don’t know that.”

  He took a step back and stroked her cheek, then tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Do you trust God with this or not?”

  “I don’t know. I want to. I really do, Dallas, but it feels like he’s just toying with me. With us. Why would he let that happen?”

  “What did God ‘let happen’?”

  She gave him a disgusted look. “Did you not hear what I just said?”

  “You mean because of Corinne?”

  “If God is trying to make me trust him, He has a funny way of going about it.”

  “I don’t really think Jesse and Corinne’s family planning has anything to do with our situation.”

  “Or lack thereof,” she huffed. She grabbed a jar of applesauce from the refrigerator.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They didn’t even mean to get pregnant. It was an accident.”

  “Ouch,” he whispered. “But still, babe, it has nothing to do with us.” Before the words were out, he knew they wouldn’t sit well, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  She whirled to stare at him. “It sure feels like it has everything to do with us.”

  “No. It doesn’t. Danae”—He pushed the air from his lungs—“I don’t think you realize it, but this thing is consuming our lives. Our marriage. You can’t make this your life. What if we never have a baby? You can’t live every day, every month, as if that prayer is guaranteed to be answered. I mean, I’m praying for it too. You know I am. And I won’t stop. I hope we have children. But you—we—have to find something else to focus on. Some other purpose to live for. Because frankly . . .” He looked away, then met her eyes again, not wanting this to be swept under the rug like too many similar conversations had been. “I love you, Danae
, but I don’t have the energy to do this anymore. To fight like this. To never know when you walk in the door if I’m going to have to walk on eggshells because something set you off.”

  Seconds ticked past, the soft trickle of water refilling the ice maker marking time.

  She stared at him, then her eyes glazed over, the fight fading from her expression, replaced by a brokenness he knew only too well.

  “You just don’t understand.” Her voice wavered. “It’s not the same for you. You have your work. You have a purpose. You have—”

  “Please.” He held up a hand. “Danae . . . I love you, but we’ve been over this a thousand times. Yes, I have my work. I have a job I get to go to every day. But you’ve got plenty of stuff too. If you’d just—” He didn’t mean for his sigh to sound so angry. But he was angry. And frustrated. “I’m tired of arguing about it. Besides, we’re both tired and hungry. Let’s just have dinner, OK?”

  He went to her and drew her to him.

  But she shrank from his touch. “Stop . . . Just stop.” She turned on her heel and ran up the stairs.

  He stood in the middle of the kitchen, biting his lip, half wishing he could take back the words, even though they’d needed saying. But sometimes it wasn’t best to let it all hang out. He knew that. What he didn’t know was how he could get his wife to accept this part of their lives that might never change.

  4

  Danae heard Dallas in the kitchen, presumably cleaning up after eating his supper alone. She was hungry, but she wasn’t about to go down there and face him now.

  She went to their bathroom and started water running in the whirlpool tub. Their master bathroom was larger than their entire bedroom had been in the old house—the house Corinne and Jesse were going to bring a fourth baby home to. Stop. Quit being so negative. You’re going to push Dallas to the brink. He’d as much as said so.

  She knew the thoughts were the truth. And maybe not merely her own thoughts, given the words from Scripture that floated to the surface now. Words she’d memorized as a child had a way of floating back into her memory just when she needed them: all that is true, all that is holy, all that is just, all that is pure, all that is lovely, and all that is worthy of praise. Practice these things.