The loud slam reverberated through the building. Sydney’s rant had been so loud Noah didn’t doubt those in the waiting area had heard. He sat with his hands folded in his lap and waited. She’d return once she calmed down. He thought Sydney was overreacting but attributed her tantrum to hormones.
Ten minutes passed before Noah accepted Sydney wasn’t coming back.
He retrieved her purse, dug for his keys and exited the room. He noticed the sympathetic smiles of the nurses and receptionist. He lifted his chin and made eye contact. “I guess we’ll call back to reschedule,” he said with a confident smile.
The nurse bit back a smile. “We’ll wait for your call.”
He knew his cheeks were red but Noah gave a small wave before leaving. The humidity hit him smack in the face. Sweat beads formed across his forehead.
Noah strutted to the car expecting to see Sydney tapping her feet in those ridiculously high heels. She wasn’t anywhere to be found. He scanned the lot and walked the perimeter of the building. He still didn’t see her.
Scrunching his nose, Noah called her cell phone. Several times. Each time it went to voicemail. His heart rate increased. Where was she? Wiping the sweat from his face, Noah started up the vehicle and cooled off.
After another ten minutes, Noah drove home, keeping his eye out for Sydney. He hoped the stubborn woman hadn’t decided to walk. It was over 95 degrees. She could get a heat stroke and harm herself and the baby.
There was no public transportation. How far could she have gotten?
He pulled in the driveway and spotted Portia’s car. Noah’s shoulders sagged. Sydney must have called Portia.
“Not her,” Noah groaned. Sydney’s spunky, loyal assistant probably had a gun ready for him. Noah backed his SUV out the driveway and drove the short distance to his grandfather’s house.
He used his spare key and shouted for Gramps. His grandfather’s dog, Scurvy nipped at his heels. Scurvy was scrawny and ugly, but Gramps spoiled him. He kept Scurvy in style.
“Noah, is that you?” Gramps called out.
“Yes, unless you were expecting a young Swedish model.” Noah went into the kitchen and slid onto the barstool.
Gramps came in wiping his hands with a dishtowel. “I was just cleaning the grill. Where’s Sydney?”
“At home.” He sounded sad. Noah cleared this throat and injected some enthusiasm in his tone. “She’s hanging with Portia, so I decided to come check on you.”
“Hmm,” Gramps said, dusting an imaginary spot on his over-washed jeans. He walked to the refrigerator. “Can I make you a sandwich?”
“No, I’m not hungry.”
Gramps made himself a turkey and Swiss sandwich, then came to stand across from Noah. “All right, let’s have at it. Cause I know you didn’t come over here to look at my face.”
Noah shrugged. “Sydney walked out of the doctor’s appointment today. She said she’d let God decide. I don’t get why she’s being so stubborn and unreasonable. I never imagined marriage would be this hard.”
Gramps slammed his fists on the granite counter top. Even though he was in his seventies, Nelson was a strong man. “Doo hickey. This isn’t about marriage. You’ve counseled enough couples to know what you were getting into when you put that ring on her finger.” Gramps looked him the eyes. “This is about you. You’re the one who’s stubborn and unreasonable. I understand your fear, but you have to tackle it with faith. Sydney is walking in her faith.” He tilted his head. “Now, my question is, where is your faith, man of God?” Gramps sat on another stool and bit into his sandwich.
His grandfather’s words pierced Noah’s heart. He stood and stalked into his old bedroom. Noah had lived with Gramps when he first moved to Port Charlotte, until he’d married Sydney. Now, he lived about five minutes away so he was close by in the event of an emergency. He dragged open the top drawer of the end table by his bed and took out the 3x5 picture he kept there. He stomped back into the kitchen.
“My faith is right here.” He held up the picture for his grandfather to see. “It’s right here with the facts. The genetic, scientific facts.” His voice broke. “I don’t get why God would do this to me, again.”
Gramps left the remnants of his turkey and cheese sandwich and walked around the kitchen island. He rested a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “It didn’t just happen to you, son. It happened to me—first.”
Noah nodded. “Yes, but they were my parents. I had to live with them—well, and you. I loved them. But, the older I got, the more I realized how different they were. I had to face the murmurs and the stares.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to handle that.”
“Without your parents, I wouldn’t have had you. You’re normal and healthy and that wasn’t a small thing. When Peter married Mary, there wasn’t supposed to be a child. You are a medical miracle, a scientific impossibility. The doctors urged me to sign the papers to terminate the pregnancy. But, I fought for you. I’ll never forget the look on the doctors’ faces when a healthy male was born. You’re proof God is in charge no matter what man says or think. It will all work out.”
Noah gulped back tears and studied the picture. How could he be ashamed of his parents? It was terrible, but it was true. Noah had never showed Sydney this picture of his parents. She only knew Peter and Mary had been killed by car thieves. She knew about his brief stint as a supremacist, but she had no clue about his parents. He had kept that from her because he’d fooled himself into thinking his past was behind him. Noah knew it was his fault Sydney might have a special needs child. He placed the picture face down.
Gramps washed his hands and put his plate in the dishwasher. He opened the refrigerator to grab two bottled waters. He handed one to Noah before opening his own. Gramps picked up the photo. “Look at them, Noah. Face it. Look at your parents.”
“I did already.”
“Are you ashamed of the people God used to bring you here?” Gramps shook his head. “Well, I am not ashamed of my son. Peter defied odds. He lived as independently as he could. Your parents were happy and they were proud of you, Noah. I had to help, yes—but Peter and Mary were your parents and they did the best they could.” Gramps’ voice rose. His body shook.
Noah held Gramps’ arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t tell me. Tell Sydney. I’ve loved that young lady from the moment I met her, and you’re doing her wrong. I didn’t raise a punk. You’re lying to her again.” He lifted a chin. “I had hoped you learned from the last time.”
Flashes of his near death experience flew across his mind. His chest heaved. “I had a vasectomy.”
Gramps eyes grew wide. “When? How come you didn’t tell me?”
“About two years ago. I knew you would talk me out of it, so I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to risk having a child with the same gene.”
“But, she’s pregnant…”
“Yep. Another miracle,” Noah said in a dry tone. “When she told me, I was ecstatic. I had regretted doing the surgery so when I heard, I rejoiced. I hoped lightning wouldn’t strike twice.” Noah lowered his head. “But my biggest fear came true. My child might have …” Noah trailed off.
“Down syndrome. Your parents had Down syndrome.” Gramps released a huge breath of air. “I’m in shock. I’m not used to you keeping something so big from me. I can’t believe you had major surgery.” He touched his chest. “You lied to me.”
Noah picked up the picture and studied the telltale faces of the two people staring back at him. Two people who had loved him something fierce. “I knew how you would feel. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
“I wish you had. After hearing this, I know Sydney having this baby is God’s doing.” Gramps jutted his chin. “You need to tell her. Tell her everything tonight.”