Ken watched Valerie take her seat next to Brad as Alex and her uncle moved to the back of the crowd. He looked around and spotted the edge of Daisy’s dress as she went back into the pool house. By the time he realized she wasn’t coming back out, the ceremony had begun. As much as he wanted to get up and investigate, he sat still and waited through the exchanging of vows, rings, and finally the first kiss as husband and wife. As soon as Mr. Jonathan and Mrs. Alexandra Dixon walked down the aisle together, holding hands, he slipped out from the crowd and went into the pool house.
The smell of cooking filled his senses as he stepped into the small building. He threw Calla a quick wave of greeting and kept walking through the house toward the bedroom in the back.
Daisy had missed the entire ceremony. Something was wrong, something important enough for her to remain in here throughout the entire wedding. She had looked okay during the baptism. He searched his mind for any possible explanation and didn’t like any of the conclusions he reached. His anxiety grew with every step. Finally, he tapped on the little door twice, then opened it to find Daisy curled up in a ball on top of the bed.
His middle felt suddenly empty and hot all at once. He had been right. Something was wrong. He rushed forward. “Daisy? You okay?”
When he touched her shoulder, she jerked away from him. “Leave me alone,” she said on a sob.
He knelt next to the bed and asked, “What’s wrong. Did something happen?”
Choking on tears, she spit, “You don’t want to know.”
He brushed a damp tendril of hair away from her face. “Course I want to know. Talk to me.”
The bed shifted as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She wiped at her face, and he snatched some tissues out of the holder on the nightstand. She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she took them from him. “I was at the emergency room Thursday afternoon.”
His heart started pounding, and sweat beaded his upper lip. A thousand possibilities raced through his imagination, and he pushed them back, needing more information. He carefully sat next to her but made no move to touch her… yet. Softly, he asked, “Are you okay?”
She bowed her head and pressed the tissues against her eyes. He felt helpless and hopeless and wanted to fix whatever was wrong for her, but he didn’t know what he needed to fix. “The ER doctor said I have a subchronic hematoma.”
He wracked his brain and couldn’t even begin to guess what that meant. “Did he give you a prognosis?”
“She.”
“She?”
Daisy nodded. “The doctor was a woman.”
Ken grit his teeth. He could not care less about the sex of the physician right this second. He took a slow breath and intentionally relaxed his jaw before he spoke. “Cool. Did she give you a prognosis?”
Daisy stared at her hands in her lap as they clutched the soaked tissues. She started ripping little pieces of the tissue and spindling them between her finger and thumb. “It’s something that could be major if it gets worse, but it probably isn’t going to. My symptoms made me think I was having a miscarriage.”
Anxious, he put a hand over hers. “But you didn’t? The baby’s okay?”
“No. I didn’t.” Her shoulders shook, but no sound came from her. Finally, she said, “But, Ken, a part of me wanted to miscarry.”
The breath escaped his body. What? Why? His hands turned cold. “Explain.”
She finally looked at him with watery, red eyes. “When the ultrasound tech told me the baby was there and let me listen to the heartbeat, I felt just a moment of disappointment. Then the doctor came in, and she was really understanding, and she gave me this flier about terminating the baby, and I almost took it home with me.”
Something was very, very wrong. This could not be the Daisy he knew. This was not the Daisy he loved. The way she spoke, no longer through tears but weirdly calm, made his skin tingle with involuntary gooseflesh. Could this be her training as a lawyer? She spoke so matter-of-factly.
Miscarriage. Terminating the baby. Killing the unborn child with intent and forethought. Abortion.
Completely horrified and at a loss for words, he whispered, “You didn’t…”
“No. No, of course not.” She stood and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she turned and faced him. “I couldn’t. For the last two days, I just laid in my bed and tried to understand what I was feeling and why. I realized that I am ashamed of myself.”
She balled up the tissue in her fist and closed her eyes. “Everything would be so much easier for me if I just wasn’t pregnant anymore. I wouldn’t have to face anyone. No one would know what I had done. The proof of my sin would just vanish.”
Words filled his mind; words of condemnation, understanding, rejection, love, acceptance, disgust, wisdom. He didn’t even know where to begin. Finally, he said, “God would know.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she snapped.
He stared at her as her quick anger evaporated as if it had never existed. He processed every word of the conversation so far before he spoke. “Quite frankly, I don’t know what you think right now. The idea that you would even think about bringing harm to an innocent life to cover your mistake, your sin, makes me think I don’t know anything about you.” Bitterness filled his mouth like bile. “But I want to understand. Explain it so I understand.”
“Understand? I didn’t do anything to this baby. I got up this morning and even took my vitamins like I ought to do. I’m trying to tell you something that happened to me and give you the honesty of my thoughts and feelings because you claim to love me and care about me. I’m really struggling here, and I don’t know what to do to make it better.” She walked back toward the bed. “How do I stop thoughts like that?”
Ken suddenly realized that he might never understand. The secular world has this philosophical notion that if it were somehow possible to strip away everything physical and cultural from, say, a man, that you would arrive at just a pure “core” identity of a sexless person. The secular belief then purports that if it were somehow possible to replace everything that was first stripped away with, say, female physicality and female cultural mores, then that once man’s “core” self could equally and effortlessly shift to “identifying” as female. The belief concludes that the converse is equally true, and so a female could just as equally and effortlessly act as a male.
Ken had analyzed this philosophical notion about gender and come to an undeniable conclusion. As a result, he knew something the secular world didn’t realize. Without any sliver of a doubt, Ken knew that this entire notion was utter and complete nonsense built on untestable fictions. He knew that the Creator of the universe determined a person’s gender before He even knitted that person in a mother’s womb.
Ken Dixon had spent uncountable hours of his life to date pondering mysteries and analyzing evidence, puzzles, and challenges that life presented. He had identified the mysteries that loomed larger than his intellect. He also knew what he knew with unshakable certainty. One thing he knew for certain: God had made him male. All he wanted to be was the best man he could be.
Setting any religious knowledge or philosophical hypotheticals aside, Ken knew he would make a horrible female. Thankfully, he never had been, and never would be, a woman. However, that also meant that Ken would never have to carry a child inside his body.
Therefore, Ken could never fully understand Daisy’s feelings, but logic and reason had served him well his entire life. So he silently reasoned through this puzzle just as he always had. He analyzed. He considered what advice he could offer. His mind took in all the facts and all of the social constructs and came to just one sound logical conclusion. It followed almost like a symphony, like the most elegant syllogism he had ever pondered. Why had Daisy not reached that same conclusion already as well?
He knew that the decisions she’d made so far formed the foundation of this deep anger with herself. He decided to start there. “What would lessen your shame?”
“I beg your pardon?”
He no longer wanted to quibble. He needed facts. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head to try to express impatience and frustration. “It’s a simple question, Daisy.”
She stared at him and opened and closed her mouth as if she didn’t quite know where to start. Finally, she said, “I imagine that if no one knew what I had done, I would have no shame.”
Ken had already calculated every possibility before he ever framed the question. Trying not to sound impatient, he said, “Not a realistic option. Everyone will know pretty soon. Right? Wind the clock forward three or four months. You’re obviously pregnant, and everyone knows it because there’s no hiding it. Realistically, what would lessen your shame?”
She pressed her lips together tightly. She tilted her head as if trying to see him more clearly. “Being married, I guess.”
“Exactly right.” He nodded. “So, let’s get married.”
“What?” She held up both hands. “No!”
“No?”
“No! No way!”
“No way?” Every muscle in his body tensed. “You do realize I am proposing to you, Daisy.” It wasn’t a question.
She shook her head. “You’re not going to ask me to marry you out of pity. So you can fix my problem? If you ask me to marry you, it will be because you love me and you want to marry me.”
He released his breath and shot to his feet. He slowly cocked his head to the right then the left, feeling his neck bones pop and crack like knuckles with the forced release of tension. He righted his head and stared down at her, his face perfectly composed. “Daisy, I imagine your emotions are chaotic right now. It’s a stressful situation coupled with flooding hormones. Thoughts born out of desperation are going to happen.”
Slowly, without ever losing eye contact, he lowered himself down onto one knee before her. Locking her gaze with his, he pulled the ring box out of his pocket and opened it. The princess cut diamond glittered in the sunlight streaming through the window, making it look as big and bright as a full moon. “The fact is, I’ve just been waiting for enough time to go by, waiting for the right time and place. If that’s here and now, so be it.”
She gaped at him and wagged a finger in his face. “That has to be the most unromantic proposal ever in the history of ever.” She snatched up her purse. “I have to go home.”
He snapped the ring box closed. “I’ll drive you.”
She spun and said, “You will not drive me. I’ll get myself home.”
As she ripped open the bedroom door, he said, “Daisy, Peter tells us to cast our cares on Him because He cares for us. If you can find the way to do that, truly do it, that will lessen your shame. He will bear that burden with you and for you.”
Without leaving, she slammed the door closed and turned and looked at him. “You know what, Ken? I was reared up by a youth pastor. I’m a PK, a preacher’s kid. If I wanted platitudes, I would have gone to my father.”
She ripped the door open again and left the bedroom. He forced himself not to follow her. He wanted to make sure she got to the main house okay and then got into a cab okay, but he didn’t. Instead, he waited.
About twenty minutes later, he heard music. He took a deep breath and let it out, then made his way back out to the wedding reception.
Daisy’s phone rang three days later, and she glanced at it. Seeing Valerie’s number, she steeled herself and answered it.
“Hi!” Valerie greeted before Daisy could even speak. “I’m outside your door with two cups of tea. Open up.”
Realizing Valerie had bypassed trying to make plans which Daisy would just decline, she chuckled and made her way through the office to unlock the front door.
Valerie stood outside the glass door wearing a pink skirt and matching jacket. She had on pink heels and a white blouse. Daisy looked down at her comfortable jeans and felt decidedly underdressed. She unlocked the door and smiled as Valerie breezed inside.
“You look incredible. I wish I looked like that at four in the afternoon.”
Valerie held out a paper cup of herbal tea and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s just the color. It hides a whole lot of tired.”
As they walked through the office to the kitchenette, Valerie looked around. “Good use of space.”
Daisy smiled at her as she turned on the kitchenette light. “When all the volunteers are working at one time, there’s enough space for everyone. That’s rare, but it used to be in my dining room, so I like having this as an option.”
They settled in at the small table, and Daisy opened a tin of butter cookies that someone had left for them. Valerie took a sip of her tea and said, “We missed you at the reception. Is everything okay?”
Actually, no. Everything was not okay. Everything was very, very wrong. “Ken and I had a pretty serious disagreement. I couldn’t face him. I had to leave. I’m sorry I missed the reception.”
Valerie shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m just here to see if you need anything.”
She smirked. “What I needed was for Ken to give me some support and sympathy. What I got was a lecture and a sermon.”
“You said, ‘lecture and a sermon’?” With her hand over her chest, Valerie chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is no laughing matter to you. But, honestly, that’s what you get from Ken. Well, when he says anything at all, that is.”
Daisy had some personal theories, but she suddenly wanted a third party’s insight. “Why do you think he’s so quiet?”
Valerie shrugged and smiled a self-deprecating smile. “When I was younger, I thought it was so he could make himself sound somehow more important whenever he actually did condescend to speak with us mere mortals. You know, like handing down words of wisdom.”
“You don’t think that anymore,” Daisy prompted with a hopeful grin.
Valerie shook her head. “No. I think Ken Dixon grew up way too soon. I think he was deeply insecure as a child, thinking he could never measure up to his brothers or his father.”
“Really?” Daisy asked, seeing the truth of it even at the instant Valerie said the words.
“Really.” Valerie nodded. “And I believe he is very, very smart, and thinks about absolutely everything from every possible angle, hoping to live a life that’s true and pure.”
Daisy nodded. “I completely agree.”
Valerie grinned, enjoying Daisy’s obvious interest in this particular subject. “Ever notice something? He’s always thrown himself into physical activity that doesn’t require a lot of talk or explanation. I believe that’s because he’s terribly shy, and conversation drains him. But peace and quiet restores his soul.”
Daisy thought about how Ken silently threw his body into things like martial arts or framing out a house. He just as silently cast a hook or manned a grill. “That makes so much sense.”
Valerie sat back and said, “So it isn’t really surprising that you felt like he gave you a little sermon. Whenever it’s not some quick witticism, it’s always some profound thing or other. But you know as well as I do that he doesn’t mean anything by it.”
Daisy knew that. She’d had an emotional, knee-jerk reaction to his words—or lack of them. Now, she didn’t know if she could possibly build a bridge back to who they were before she walked out on him. She didn’t know if she had the emotional wherewithal to try.
She sighed. “I know. But, tell that to the emotional, hormonal woman three days ago when she might scratch your eyes out for looking at her sideways.”
“Gotta love the hormones.” She reached over and took a cookie out of the tin. “I hope you guys get back together. You two are perfect for each other.” She lifted her teacup. “But, regardless, I hope we can stay friends.”
Daisy smiled and took a sip of the tea. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
Sitting at her desk, Daisy hung up the phone and made a notation in the file. Then she opened the email that had just arrived from Toby at Dixon Contracting and Design. Just the thought of Dixon Contracting made her heart beat a little faster. She opened the email.
Dear Ms. Ruiz:
Ken Dixon asked me to contact you to confirm arrival at the job site for the Osborne Family house at 7:00 a.m. this coming Friday, 4 Sept. We have 8 carpenters and 15 laborers scheduled to work that job through 6 p.m. on Monday, 7 Sept.
If these details have changed, please contact my office right away. Find my direct line below my signature.
Signed,
Toby MacDonald, Assistant
She had received two other communications from Toby in the last couple of weeks, which kept her from worrying that Dixon Contracting would withdraw their support for the coming house. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Ken or his brothers also personally planned to work on this house. She shot a quick email back confirming the information and thanked the company for their support.
Daisy hadn’t seen or heard from Ken since the wedding. She hadn’t reached out to him, either. She completely understood his perspective, but she didn’t appreciate the way he went into logic mode immediately while she lay there crying. She needed him to put his arms around her, and instead, he preached at her.
In hindsight, though, it occurred to her she should have told him what she needed. With his arms around her, wrapping her up, she would know everything would be okay. In the end, nothing was okay. Everything was wrong. She didn’t know how to bring it back to right.
She imagined she couldn’t do anything about it at this point. Ken had made it clear what he thought of her emotional reactions.
He’d also had a glittering diamond ring on him. Why had he had a ring in his pocket?
She stood and rubbed her belly. She had started to swell slightly. In the mirror, she could easily see her baby bump, but clothes still hid it well enough. She had received a summons from her grandfather last night and knew that her mother must have told him. She did not look forward to going to see him today. Knowing she’d disappointed him was almost more than she could bear.
After she gathered her purse and turned off her computer, she walked to the front. Beverly returned from lunch just as she made it to the lobby. “Hey. I’m headed to my grandparents’. I don’t know for certain if I’ll be back today.”
Beverly glanced at her watch. “Sure. Do I need to do anything for Friday?”
“Nope.” She pushed open the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
On the drive, Daisy tried to decide what to say to him and how to say it. She prayed for God to give her words, but she didn’t receive any kind of divine guidance. She pulled into the drive behind their sedan and took a few deep breaths before she walked up to the door.
Her grandmother answered, smiling ear-to-ear. She didn’t even stand five feet tall and had short, curly, salt-and-pepper hair and bright brown eyes. “Daisy! I’m so happy to see you!”
“Of course, I won’t miss a chance to have lunch with you, Abuela.”
Daisy bent and hugged her, then let her grandmother lead her into the house. She could smell the spicy tang of meat grilling. Her grandfather stood by the sliding glass door that led from the dining room to the back porch.
“Daisy. Glad you could make it.”
“Abuelo, I was happy to get the invitation.”
“Is that so?” He gestured at the table. “Your grandmother has some things to finish in the kitchen, but we can sit.”
He acted very cool, not his normal loving, warm self. She mentally shored up her courage, reinforcing it in anticipation.
“I’m guessing Mamá told you about my situation.”
“Si, si.” Daisy marked his emotional state by his reflexive reversion to Spanish. Her grandfather rarely spoke anything other than English. His eyes stayed hard. “She did not share the details, only the circumstance. She said if I needed more information that you would explain yourself.”
“I see.”
He tightened his mouth and prompted her with, “This is your opportunity to explain yourself.”
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I am pregnant and due in February.”
He gave one sharp nod of his head. “And? The father?”
Maintaining eye contact, she said, “Has nothing to do with this.”
“One might think the father has everything to do with this.”
“Yes, one might think.” Daisy lifted her chin. “Nevertheless.”
He raised his eyebrows and gestured in her direction. “You dare to speak so flippantly to me?” She wondered if he realized he had switched from English back to Spanish again. “So disrespectful?”
She gently shook her head. In Spanish, she said, “Abuelo, I have absolutely no disrespect for you at all. I love you, and I’m sorry that you’re upset with me.”
“No.” He tapped the top of the table with his finger. “We are not going to discuss your emotional state right now. We’re going to discuss actions and reactions. So, explain to me why you would become pregnant by a man who now will have nothing to do with the child.”
She licked her lips and tried to formulate words that would properly explain the situation. “Unfortunately, I didn’t know he was married. He wooed me with promises and plans that he didn’t mean, but I believed. Maybe I just wanted to believe. Maybe I ignored the clues. When I first discovered I was pregnant, I went to talk to him, and that’s when I found out for certain.”
She’d had two solid weeks since her emergency room visit and had time to think about exactly how she felt about this baby. She knew she spoke the complete truth with the next words out of her mouth. “I spent weeks scared and sad and angry. I even, to my shame, contemplated how easy everything would be if I just wasn’t pregnant anymore. But I have been on my knees for the last two weeks giving everything over to God, and I can tell you that I love this baby, and I am thankful that the father wants nothing to do with the child or with me. He is not a good man.”
Unexpectedly, tears filled her grandfather’s eyes. “I wish you had made a different decision.”
She pulled a verse from Romans eight out of her mind. “All things work together for good, though, don’t they? God can use this. I’m not proud of myself, but I’m very much looking forward to meeting my baby.”
“Granddaughter, when I gave you the mission that I had spent my whole life building, I trusted you to maintain a certain character and hold yourself to a certain moral standard. This tells me I was wrong in trusting you.”
Her breath hitched. “Abuelo, do you think I have a loose moral code? I made a single mistake one time and was seduced by a very skilled liar. I love God, and I serve Him. Everything I do day after day is to serve Him. The Bible says that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. I’m sorry my sin is something that’s manifesting physically. But the fact is, no man is good. No, not even one.”
She just quoted three different Bible verses in one conversation. If he didn’t accept her words, then he had thrown a veil over his own eyes that prevented him from grasping it. And if it meant that he revoked her position as Executive Director of his ministry and handed her a bill for law school, then so be it.
He held his hand out, palm up. She looked at the wrinkled skin the color of soft leather for several moments before she put her hand in his. He squeezed tightly as tears fell from his eyes. “I am proud of your courage today.”
When he let her go, her grandmother came into the room with a meat platter next to a pile of corn tortillas. “Time to eat, yes?” she said with a grin. “I made you lingua.”
“Thank you, Abuela, it smells amazing.” Her grandmother knew how much she loved beef tongue. As she set out her roasted pepper sauce and a pitcher of water, Daisy noticed that her grandmother never mentioned her grandfather’s obvious emotional state or the tense air around them. It made her wonder how much she knew and how much she’d heard.
By the end of the meal, they didn’t treat her any differently than they always had. When she left, they both hugged her goodbye.