28

“Why have I never thought of putting padded cushions on these benches?” I squirmed around and arched my back.

“That would be too easy, too comfortable. That’s not the way we do things. If there’s a complicated way, we’ll find ourselves in the middle of it.” Scott took off his jacket and made a cushion for my bottom.

“Seems true, right?” I leaned against the gazebo rail. “Nice to be back out here. I miss the roses, but this cold air is wonderful.” The middle of March was unseasonably cold, but the evergreens that hid the prayer garden were as green as ever.

Scott slipped his arm around me and we fell silent. A slide show of pivotal moments in this spot played in my mind - Scott finding me here in such turmoil that first time over a year ago, praying with Mom when he was having such a hard time before our wedding, soul searching hours among the roses, the wedding.

Scott’s memories reached back a lifetime.

“Thinking about the wedding?” Scott said, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“That and many other things. I wonder, did I ever tell you about a time I came out here, just before Peeps died?” I shifted on the bench to face him.

“I’ve slept since then,” he teased. He gently kissed both my eyes. “I’m wondering why we are here instead of in our nice warm, empty house right now.”

I took his face in my hands and kissed him back. “It was great of Mom and Toppy to take the babies for the night. We’ll go back to the house in just a minute. They can handle them, but I’m glad Brenna will be there to help.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise in about fifteen minutes. It’s getting really cold out here, and it’ll be dark soon, but you love it, I know.” He reached for his work thermos on the bench behind him, and poured a cup of coffee. The steam warmed the air between us.

“You were saying something about a time out here before Dad died?” He took a sip of coffee and handed the cup to me.

“Yes, I was sitting here and watched a lone leaf float on a breeze. It seemed, and don’t laugh, like an angel was playing with it. It literally suspended in the air, then floated down a bit, as though it were looking for a place to land.” I glanced at Scott. Did he think I was crazy?

He just grinned. “Go on.”

“I remembered praying, ‘I’m that leaf, Lord.’ I was trying to find my way, and as I searched, God caught me in His hand, then guided my way. Gently. It was my own defeated thinking that made things hard.”

Scott nodded. “We fall, He catches. Repeat. Not as poetic as your leaf analogy, but I get it. It’s true. He’s always there, His hand extended. Problem is, we keep jumping out of His hand.”

“Exactly. I think a lot of this life is learning to stay in the palm of His hand. I don’t know how people live through things such as we’ve been through, without the hand of God to catch them.” I wrapped my hands around the thermos cup while Scott poured more coffee.

“Do you think we can raise Paul and Helen and Brenna to be stronger than we have been in these crises?” He hopped up and began to pace, rubbing his hands together.

I stood and gave him back his jacket. “Poor baby, you’re cold. Just a few more minutes.”

He put it on. “Warm. I’ll always have you sit on my jacket before putting it on, from now on.”

“You nut.” I stepped toward him, and he pulled me to his chest inside his jacket and enveloped me in his arms.

“Anyway, about the kids. We were both raised in a Christian home. We were “trained up in the way we should go” as the scripture says. I guess we can pray that they have the mind of Christ more than we did. I don’t know. Seems like we have to learn some things for ourselves,” I said, nuzzling my head under his chin. I watched the sun slant orange through the pines. Wood smoke scent from Mom and Toppy’s place filled my senses. Scott’s heartbeat and mine were in sync.

He began to hum.

I didn’t know he even knew the Viennese Waltz.

We swayed in time to his humming.

He began to pull away, but I wouldn’t let him. “Where you going?”

“Well, come with.”

I held on to him as we inched in tandem to the steps of the gazebo. He held tight to my waist as he squatted and I giggled as I was pulled down with him. He reached for a three-pronged cord and plugged in the lights that had been placed along every line of the gazebo last year for our wedding.

“Perfect,” I said.

“Yes, you are,” he said.

We sat down again, at the very edge of the gazebo, just at the top of the steps.

I heard voices coming from the gate. Familiar voices.

“Is there another way back to the house without going through the gate?” I asked.

“Why? We can cut through the woods there and it comes down a little farther from the house,” he said.

I grabbed his hand and we hurried down the steps. “I think that’s Tracy and Javier coming. Something huge is about to happen.”

He grinned big as Texas. We hurried into the woods and headed back to the house.

“I’m glad we left the lights on for them. It’s just too sweet.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “It would be so perfect for them if,” I began, then felt the first flake land on my nose.

“You and snow, Bailey, how do you do it?” Scott whispered. He held his hand out to catch the falling flakes.

“I have nothing to do with it. But isn’t it wonderful?”

“It is, but crazy for a Texas March. Hey, want to hide and watch them?” Scott asked, stopping behind a tree.

I pushed him onward. “No way,” I said. “That’s private.”

“Easy for you to say. She’ll tell you all about it later.”

I laughed, and winked at my husband. “True.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s get to the house, the nice warm, empty, all to ourselves house.” He held my hand as we pressed on through the woods.

Snow made a different kind of silence, a hopeful kind of hush, as though everything regenerated right before our eyes. I had a secret, and I silently prayed that this perfect moment might be appropriate for the reveal.

“Let’s go watch the video of our wedding. I took the cake topper out of the freezer this morning.” I searched for a way to tell my secret.

“Sounds good. All the chaos kept us from celebrating our anniversary. But I heard those year old cake toppers taste like cardboard.” He quickened his step.

“Well, if it does, there are some cookies left.”

“Our first Christmas was spent on our honeymoon, second one in the hospital with Brenna. I’ll be glad when we can begin some Christmas traditions of our own. Especially ones that don’t involve a hospital.” He rubbed his hands together.

“Well,” I said.

Scott stopped and embraced me. “I think we should name our next baby Joy.”

“I like it, but why?” Talk about an open door.

“Because even in the midst of our worst times, knowing you’re mine, and that we are His, has given me the most unexplainable joy.”

I nodded. What was the old song? Something about ‘joy unspeakable and full of glory’. Even with Brenna’s uncertain future, my heart beat with an underlying peace and hope that didn’t make sense. Memories of my father still gave me bad moments, but I was learning to process it. Life went on.

“I’ll take all the joy and pray for a little less chaos, if that’s even possible,” he said.

“We’ll name her Joy. I wonder if there’s an equivalent name for a boy?” I placed his hand on my stomach.

“Wait, what? Are you saying?” He searched my eyes.

“Well, I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I’m pretty sure.” Would he hate the idea? The twins were only 3 months old.

He stared at me for a moment, then his Texas-sized grin returned. “Whoop!” He picked me up and twirled me around. The kiss we shared then let me know he was truly happy about it. He started walking toward the house, chattering with breathless excitement. “So much for less chaos. We’ll need a bigger house. We can add on to the inn for now, or better yet, as I promised, I’ll build us a house on that property Dad left me.”

I watched him walk away, talking about plans for our future. He’d realize I wasn’t with him in a second or two, but I wanted to savor the moment. I thought about Peeps, and what he would say to all this.

Joy, joy, joy!