Page 7 of A Lesson In Beginning

“Good morning, everyone.” I pasted a smile on my face that was mostly feigned, but it was the polite thing to do.

“Good morning, Adah. How did you sleep?” Ruth asked, a small child held in her arms, playing with her hair in his little hands as she fed him from a bottle.

“We slept quite well, thank you.”

“Mama, I’m hungry!” Samuel tugged at my arm, looking up at me and then back to the table where there were plates of donuts. His little eyes were wide as saucers as he took in the vibrantly colored pastries.

“Would you like a donut?” The woman at the table asked him kindly, with a wide smile on her face. Samuel took one step forward, then hesitated, turning back to look at me for permission.

“Yes, you may, sweetheart.” I released his little hand from mine, letting him rush forward to the table where he made himself right at home, as though these weren’t near strangers and a home he’d never been in before. When tempted with donuts, I could not blame him. We had only tried them for the first time a few weeks ago. To say he was obsessed was an understatement.

“Coffee?” Ruth asked me, pulling my attention from my son.

“Yes, please.” I winced inwardly at the near groan I released at the thought of caffeine. I had grown slightly addicted to it in the last two years. Leviticus poured me a cup, setting it on the high top counter where there was an assortment of creamers, sugars, and such awaiting.

“Donut?” Leviticus’ brother asked, holding up a small plate with a donut on it for me. I politely waved him off, sipping my coffee slowly and savoring the bittersweet flavor as it burst over my tongue.

“It’s good to see you again after all this time, Adah. It certainly surprised us when Levi posted in our group chat letting us know you had arrived, but we are all thrilled that you have come. I can’t imagine that the last two years have been very easy on you.” Ezekiel’s wife said, and the kindness in her tone took me off guard. Ruth and Leviticus’ graciousness was understandable, but these people were not related to me, and had no reason to be this welcoming.

“Thank you. You are right, things have not been easy. Coming to Portland was the only option left to me, after everyone else in my life was thrown into prison.” I quickly hid behind my mug, taking another sip of the delicious liquid. Even in my own ears, my words sounded harsh, but I felt flustered and unsure how to handle everyone’s attention. The others all glanced around at each other, as if not sure how to respond.

“So now that you guys are here, what are you two going to do?” Ezekiel continued after a moment, breaking the slightly awkward pause in conversation that had settled over the room.

“Ezekiel Temple!” His wife scolded him under her breath, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We are going to live here!” Samuel shouted from his seat, his mouth covered in chocolate frosting, a few sprinkles clinging to his lips.

“Samuel Price!” I chided him, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush over my cheeks.

“Out of the mouths of babes.” Leviticus chuckled good-naturedly, though it did little to assuage my mortification.

“Please excuse my son.” I apologized, not quite knowing where to look or what to say as all four sets of adult eyes settled over me.

“Think nothing of it, Adah. He’s precious.” Ruth’s words were meant to soothe, but they only set me further on edge. I didn’t need Ruth stepping in to placate me, as though she were better than anyone else. Then again, she and Leviticus were the only family left, and therefore the only ones who could help us. With great effort, I did my best to set aside my vexation and accept the help that was being given.

“I’m sure you both are indeed wondering what my plans are now.” I clutched at my mug, grateful to have something to do with my hands as I spoke. “I honestly don’t know where to begin.”

“You don’t need to feel obligated to share anything right now, Adah. You only just arrived last night. We are glad to have you here in our home.” Leviticus’ kind words landed on deaf ears as I waved him off.

“No, it would be wrong of us to prey on your hospitality with no explanation. As I stated a moment ago, everyone else in my life is either in prison or has abandoned me. Simply put, you both are the only family we have left.”

“Adah, you are always welcome here. Both of you.” Ruth’s kind smile did little to ease the stress that felt like a weight over my chest.

“While I appreciate that, Ruth, it’s not that simple.” I eyed my son, realizing I needed to be cautious with my words. Talia — or perhaps her name was Theresa — followed my gaze.

“Samuel, how do you feel about cartoons?” She asked my son with a smile only a mother could understand. There was a caring and giving spirit about her, and I found myself grateful for her intervention as I nodded my head in confirmation of her plan.

Samuel’s eyes widened comically at the thought of cartoons, another new obsession of his that I only allowed him to indulge in on rare occasions. I had quickly found out that it wasn’t easy to keep a toddler occupied in a hotel room.

A few moments later, the woman rejoined us in the kitchen. Ruth held her hand out to a chair, offering me a seat at the table along with the rest of the adults.

“Thank you.” I took another sip of my coffee, letting it settle my nerves before beginning my explanation. “After Josiah was sentenced, I realized I was alone. I have no one to lean on for support, and no means to provide for my son. Zion is gone. There’s no one left.”

“Adah —” The pity in Ruth’s voice was nearly my undoing. I held up a hand to her, halting her words before she could continue.

“Now, I am not looking for a handout. I promise I will help in any way I can while I try to find work and accommodations for Samuel and myself.” I quickly continued, unwilling to let pity rule the moment.

“Now, just a moment. I need to make something clear.” Leviticus’ sharp tone left no room for argument. I quickly grew quiet, unsure of where this conversation was headed. If he was anything like Josiah, this could go good or bad, with no real way of telling which way he would decide. I put my hands in my lap, fidgeting as nerves bubbled up like old friends.

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