Page 2 of Sugarplum Dreams
“All right then, this is it. It’s been fun. And while I don’t wish that you get turned down, I won’t be sad if we pick up the Secret Saint again next fall.”
He grabbed Judd’s outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake. “Same. I couldn’t have worked with a better man. You have a vision and an ability to seem to be able to do exactly what the Lord wants you to. I’ve admired it, as well as the upright way you live your life. You’re definitely a role model.” He didn’t usually get all sappy and complimentary, especially with another man, but it was true. Judd had taught him quite a bit in the last couple of years that they worked together. It was interesting to him the way Judd had followed the Lord, and God blessed him not just monetarily, but by bringing Terry into his life too. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Judd so happy. In fact, he was sure of it.
Judd slapped him on the back and then walked to the front of the truck, got in the driver’s side, and started the engine. Wilson stepped back and watched as Judd pulled out. It was just two days until Christmas, and it was past time that he do what he knew he was supposed to do but had been dreading.
Lord, this is such a crazy idea, I know it has to come from You. I don’t know why I’m nervous. If I’m doing what You want me to do, it shouldn’t matter whether she says yes or no. But I guess my pride is involved more than I want to admit. It would be a bit of a blow if she said no. But I can’t quite bring myself to pray that she’ll say yes. I guess, I just need to trust You and know that Your will will be done.
He could always talk to God and say whatever was in his heart. And somehow, just talking to the Lord and letting Him know that and reiterating that he was going to do whatever God wanted him to do calmed him more than anything else could. Not that his hands weren’t still shaking, and not that his stomach didn’t feel like it was being squeezed by a giant hand,but just that he knew that whatever happened, God was in control. And that was enough for him.
Chapter Two
“Mama, he hit me!” Serafina, Charity’s two-year-old, ran up to her, grabbing her leg and crying. She pointed at Evans, her little brother, who toddled along behind her, not really understanding. He was eighteen months old and probably did not mean to hurt his sister. Although, after having five children, Charity knew that it was quite possible that in fact he did mean to hurt her, as little and innocent as he looked.
“Mom! You said I could play with playdough! Where is it!” Lavinia, four years old and not very patient, ever, sat at the kitchen table waiting for her playdough.
It was a long time ago when Charity learned that if she wanted to keep the playdough out of the rug and if she wanted it to last for more than one day, she had to have control over it.
But that meant going and getting it whenever one of her children wanted to play with it, or whenever she had given permission. After all, she wasn’t one of those parents who believed that her children should get everything they wanted.
She was, however, one of those parents who believed her children should have a mother and father and be brought up in a home with both of them.
Unfortunately, Clancy hadn’t believed that at all. Or maybe he had believed it, since he explained it to her before they even got married, promising that they would be married forever, which of course, she supposed every man did. After all, the wedding vows said until death do you part. She wasn’t the first woman who had been shocked when the man she married had decided that he didn’t really mean those vows.
Maybe he had meant them at the time. She could never quite figure that out. Was he deliberately deceiving her all those years? Had he never really thought about whether or not he wanted to spend the rest of his life with one person? Or had he just wanted her at the time and knew that he might find someone else better later?
She couldn’t answer those questions. She had never even looked twice at another man after she made those vows and a good while before that. Once she agreed to marry him, she committed her life to him and had zero intention of getting involved with anyone else, ever. She still wasn’t the slightest bit interested in getting involved with anyone else, but…her reasoning had changed.
Men were jerks. All of them. She didn’t trust a single one. She even struggled to give grace to her own sons at times, although she would never admit that to anyone. It was one of her deepest, darkest secrets. They reminded her of her husband, and while she loved them with her whole heart, sometimes she wasn’t sure she liked them.
Was that terrible? She thought so. It made her a terrible mother. Unfit to raise children, except…she loved them too much to let them go.
The state foster care system would be more than happy to take them off her hands. And had in fact scared her more than once by implying that they considered her unfit.
A fit mother should be able to pay bills. A fit mother should be able to keep her husband. A fit mother could find a job that would pay her enough to be able to afford daycare for her children while she worked.
“Mom! I’m waiting!” Lavinia banged her hand on the table.
Gifford and Banks, eight and five respectively, wrestled in the living room, which Charity had almost forgotten, except she heard a bang and then a crash and then crying.
No doubt Gifford, who was much bigger than Banks, had thrown him into something and broken yet another lamp.
Charity wanted to put her hands over her face and cry. That was the last lamp in the house. They did have ceiling lights, thankfully, which the boys had not quite been able to reach, although one ceiling light had been badly damaged by a ball they’d been throwing in the house before Charity had stopped them.
But she couldn’t hardly send her children outside to play. She was unable to supervise them outside when she was inside baking for her business. She could hardly be outside watching her kids and inside baking at the same time.
Her mother assured her that thirty, even twenty years ago, it was perfectly okay to send your children outside and tell them to be back in by the time the streetlights came on.
If Charity did that, child services would have them in custody by the end of the next day. Or maybe Charity was just scaring herself, but she wasn’t going to take that chance.
Sighing deep and long in her soul, she smiled at Lavinia and said in her calmest voice, “I’ll have your playdough in just a moment, sweetheart. Let me go make sure your brother’s okay.”
“I’ve been waiting longer!” Lavinia said, all the while pounding her hands on the table.
Charity should really teach her not to pound on the table and to speak to her mother in a more respectful tone, but Banks was crying like he was truly hurt, and she probably ought to make sure that he wasn’t dying.
Although, part of the reason she hoped he wasn’t was because she couldn’t afford the funeral expense.
No, that wasn’t true. She loved her children, truly she did. Just sometimes, she didn’t like them very much.
