Page 6 of Sugarplum Dreams
“I’ll get it,” he said, standing and realizing that he had one child in each hand. How was he going to work a broom and dustpan?
“Serafina,” Charity said, holding out her hands. This time, the little girl went. He’d felt bad for Charity last time when she tried to get her to go and she wouldn’t. He figured it was probably just the newness of someone else making the little girl want to stay and giggle with the silly story he’d been telling her.
As soon as she went, the little boy in his other arm started fussing for his mother as well.
“I can take him, but if you don’t mind?” Charity said, lifting her brows.
“I don’t mind at all. Although I was wondering how I was going to work a broom with two kids in my arms, I think I can do it with just one.”
She nodded, barely cracking a smile. She’d probably figured out a long time ago how to sweep and hold kids and probably do dishes and stand on her head at the same time too, if the chaos in the house was any indication.
“Just you and me, kiddo,” he said to the little boy as he walked toward the door where Charity had indicated the broom was. The kid stared at him with big eyes, and Wilson made a face, causing him to laugh.
He’d always been pretty good with his nieces and nephews, but he supposed it was a little different when a person could gettired of them and leave, versus being forced to stay forever and ever, amen.
Thinking about it like that, it seemed like a pretty big responsibility, and he wondered again if maybe he hadn’t thought it all through.
But once more he was reminded that God had clearly shown him that this was the way he should be going. Still, just because he knew what the Lord wanted didn’t mean that he was going about it in the right way. Was there a better way?
God was silent on this. Sometimes it seemed that God’s silence meant that maybe he just needed to look around and figure some things out. After all, God had given him a brain, and He probably expected him to use it.
It was a little harder than he thought, juggling the kid and the broom and the dustpan and getting all the glass swept up. He dropped it once and had to start again. The boy wiggled in his arms, and he almost set him down, but he wasn’t sure whether he could keep him out of the glass or not, so he wrestled the boy with one hand and the broom with the other. It seemed like neither hand was winning.
“Here. Let me give you a hand with that.” Charity’s voice came from behind him as he dropped the dustpan for the second time.
Turning, he saw she had her hand out for the young boy.
With the daughter in her other hand, she couldn’t grab him securely, so Wilson took the boy by the arms and put him next to her so she could just wrap her arm around him.
She was closer than he expected, and… It felt odd.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, since there was the glass cleanup and the talk after that he had to get through.
“Thank you. I guess I’m not used to wrangling two things at once.”
“No problem. I was able to grow into it, and I think it’s easier than having it dumped upon you. You don’t have to clean that up. I can set these guys down and do it myself.”
“I have it,” he said. He wanted to be able to talk to her, and with the glass on the floor, she wouldn’t be comfortable.
With two hands, he was able to do it in just a few seconds, and he practically followed Charity back out to the kitchen.
“I take it the blood stopped?” he asked, walking to the garbage can that he’d spotted earlier.
“I think so. I was afraid he was going to need stitches, but I think he’s going to be okay.”
“You said that so calmly.” He was teasing a little. Obviously she was used to things not going the way she expected them to.
“I wasn’t being very calm when you came in.”
“I noticed.” He wasn’t sure what to say. He could hardly deny that she’d been yelling at her child. After seeing the chaos in the house, he couldn’t blame her. In fact, if anything, he would have to ask how she was able to be so sane despite all the craziness around her. “Is that the way it usually is?” He couldn’t help but ask. There was a small part of him that said he really didn’t want to know. Or maybe it would be better if he didn’t know. After all, knowing might make him want to change his mind. And he hadn’t even asked her yet.
“Some days it’s worse,” she said with a forced smile. Like she was going to smile despite everything that had been happening around her.
“I see.” He nodded, putting the broom and dustpan back where they belonged and then coming back over to the table where she seated herself.
“Please sit down,” she said as he stopped beside her.
He hadn’t gotten a ring.
