“I meant to ask you, have you heard from your dad? How’s he holding up?” Hallison inquired.

  Cheney glanced up to see Parke escorting his son into their master bedroom. Little Parke didn’t look too happy. The determined expression on Parke’s face explained why. Cheney chuckled. The child was adjusting, although at the moment, Little Parke balked at the idea of hanging a tie around his neck.

  Little Parke was positioned in front of a free-standing cheval mirror. Parke stood behind him, where Cheney could see both their reflections. Patiently and meticulously, Parke demonstrated how to tie a tie. Again. Cheney happily sighed.

  After getting sidetracked, Cheney refocused on her phone conversation. “Daddy is doing remarkably well. Since he’s in a minimum security prison, the other inmates seem respectable and come to him with medical questions. I guess you can say after he dispenses his advice, he talks about Jesus. In his last letter, Daddy said one man has even attended chapel with him a few times.

  “It’s definitely not a resort. He says there are some scary men in there. We’re thankful for the prison consultants, based out of Nashville, who prepped him on how to fit in and not bring attention to his former affluent status in the outside world. He wrote he blew his cover a few weeks ago when a prisoner sprained his foot. Keep praying for him, Hali.”

  “I will. Jesus sent Paul into prison to preach to the captives, and look what happened.”

  Cheney sighed. “Umm-hmm. That sounds good on paper, but I want my dad home. Oh, and I did tell you that Momma’s in therapy for her depression. Rainey made sure of that, fearing she would become an alcoholic and, God forbid, get behind the wheel.”

  “I can understand Rainey’s fear.”

  Cheney yawned and checked her watch. She hadn’t seen Kami in the past ten minutes. “Yeah. At least we got to Momma before this thing got too far. She chose alcohol to deal with the stress of the trial instead of running to God.”

  “Well, we both can attest that God isn’t always the first choice.”

  “You know it. Let me go, Hali. If I’m supposed to beat you to church, I’d better get dressed and check on your diva niece.”

  “Okay, honey. I’m going to take another quick nap, and I’ll see you later.”

  “Right.” After they disconnected, Cheney chuckled. Hali will never make it. Parke was now brushing Little Parke’s hair. “That was Hali. She says to save her and Malcolm a seat.”

  Parke smirked, amused. “This is what? The second time in a month?”

  Nodding, Cheney snickered. “Well, she’s getting close to her due date. Soon you and Malcolm will have sons.”

  “Yep, and my son will be better looking.” Parke twisted his lips in confidence then winked at Little Parke. “Okay, go see if your sister is ready.”

  “Yes, sir.” Clearly, the boy wasn’t excited about the task.

  Once the child left the room, Parke whispered, “I’ll be glad when this trial period is over. The foster family visits remind me that he’s not really ours yet.” So far, they had passed three follow-up inspections.

  “Well, babe.” Cheney stood too fast and teetered with a momentary dizziness.

  Concerned, Parke was at her side immediately. “You’re doing too much.” He cupped her chin with his hand then guided it closer to his lips. “What did I tell you? You don’t have to prove your love for Little Parke. He knows, and I know. Even Kami knows she has to share you now. Slow down, baby, okay?” He searched her eyes for compliance. “I don’t want a super mother. I prefer a super lover.”

  She laughed. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Hey, I’m married.”

  “I do recall saying yes at the wedding.”

  By the time she and Parke loaded the SUV with their children, Cheney was tired. At times, combing and detangling Kami’s thick hair was a major task, then for some reason, Kami couldn’t find her shoes to match her gold dress.

  Cheney’s exhaustion dissipated once they walked through the church doors. The praise team was singing one of Cheney’s favorites, “How Great Thou Art.” In sync, the four claimed a pew and on one accord, they knelt and prayed. One by one, they stood and shook out of their coats and jackets before taking their seats.

  Since it was the Sunday for children’s church, Kami and Little Parke raced off to their classrooms. Cheney and Parke smiled at each other as they lifted their hands in praise, joining the chorus. When Cheney thought about the goodness of the Lord, her eyes misted. It seemed surreal when her family entered the sanctuary for the second time since Roland’s imprisonment.

  Malcolm and Hallison arrived about fifteen minutes into Pastor Scott’s preaching. The cat naps had done Hallison good. She looked refreshed and vibrant.

  “Let’s go back to Ecclesiastes, the third chapter.” Pastor Scott waited as pages flipped. “Yes, time does bring about a change. It’s supposed to. Whatever season you’re in now, it’s about to change. That’s God’s word. Now, don’t go getting scared because things are going good right now. If you enjoy the snow of the winter, then you have to endure the ice and take precautions against the slippery roads. It’s part of the season.

  “If you see the spring flowers bloom, you must remember storms will come. The same goes for the summer and fall. To grow with God, we must suffer a little while down here. Endure the darkness because your season is about to change to light, but oh, when we see Jesus, that’s when you’re going to have a permanent, everlasting season.”

  Pastor Scott continued to preach how evilness likes to tag along with goodness, but how important it was to resist it and evilness’s stay would be temporary. He segued into the call to discipleship. Even after several people repented and made their way to the altar, Pastor Scott didn’t stop his appeal, but extended it until five other men from Cheney’s section surrendered. They made their way to the aisle and walked to the front to the waiting ministers.

  “That’s right. Keep coming. God wants to save you now, at this very moment. God is on site now. He will not turn you away. Since tomorrow’s not promised, come today. Don’t put it off any longer. Come . . . there is no appointment to schedule.” Pastor Scott waved his hand.

  The altar call concluded when the candidates changed into white clothes. One by one, they stepped into the baptismal pool. With their arms crossed, the ministers supported their back as one minister lifted up his hand. “My dear brothers and sisters, upon the confession of your sins, and the confidence we have in the Word of God, we baptize you as instructed to the apostles, and they carried out in the Book of Acts, in the name of Jesus for the remission of your sins. Amen.”

  The crowd went wild when one man started shouting and praising God in the water. After church was dismissed, Mrs. Beacon came to Cheney’s mind. The woman was just as stubborn now as she was before she went to jail. She still refused to attend church, fussing she’d rather go back to jail. “If you don’t stop cutting up, the Lord, might just send you back there,” Cheney always warned her.

  By the end of the week, Cheney was convinced Little Parke or Kami had passed some type of bug on to her. Although she wasn’t running a temperature, she was exhausted after waking up. Parke even commented more than once that she looked tired. “Don’t worry about the kids. I’ll make sure I’m off early enough to pick them up from school and drop them off at their martial arts lesson.”

  “Don’t think I missed your insult about my great looks, but I’m too drained to argue.”

  “But you’ll forgive me because you love me and know I’m always going to take care of you,” he said a little too confidently for Cheney.

  “Umm-hmm.” She rolled over.

  Parke packed the children’s lunches; then Cheney checked their school uniforms. After her approval, Parke dropped them off at school before heading to his office. Thankful for his thoughtfulness, Cheney smiled and closed her eyes, hoping to get in thirty more minutes of sleep.

  It didn’t help. An hour later and still drowsy, Cheney got up and hoped an orange-cranberry muffin and a cup of decaf would jumpstart her day. It didn’t. Her stomach felt queasy, so she didn’t chance putting more into it. She barely put in a half day’s work before going back home. Although the phone company had a generous benefit package of sick, vacation, and excused time off, her days were dwindling. The trials had taken a big chunk.

  As she locked up her desk, she called Parke to let him know she was leaving early. Once at home, she climbed in bed. It seemed as if she had just closed her eyes when the phone rang.

  The room was dimmed and the house was quiet. Normally she wouldn’t have answered it, but she recognized Malcolm Jamieson on the caller ID, and it was almost five o’clock. She picked up. “Hello?”

  “Whew. What’s wrong with you? Did I wake you?” Hallison rolled off the questions.

  “Hey, Hali. Just tired, girl. I don’t know if I picked up something from Little Parke or Kami. You know kids like to share everything. Plus, Parke isn’t helping with his glowing compliments of ‘you need rest,’ or ‘you look tired.’ I haven’t felt like this since I had morning sickness.”

  “Maybe you’re pregnant,” Hallison stated.

  Fully awake, Cheney scooted up in the bed. “I don’t think so.” She wasn’t in the mood for jokes. After all she went through, that would not be a welcome condition at this point in her life; but her sister-in-law had planted a seed. “Hali, that’s not even funny. I’ve accepted the fact that I can’t have children. God gave us two beautiful ones—well, almost. The home visits have gone well. We’re still months away before we can officially apply for adoption.”

  Both were quiet as they fed off the possibility. Hallison cleared her throat. “Well, I called to see if you can tag along with me to my doctor’s appointment in the morning. Malcolm has to be in on a client review. It’s at nine. I was hoping, since you have flex time, you can go with me. If not, I’ll ask my mother or Momma J, but you know those two. They would have a list of questions to ask the doctor about the health of my baby.”

  A bout of nausea hit Cheney. Rubbing her stomach until the uneasiness passed, she didn’t want to commit if she was going to feel like this in the morning. “Hali, I would love to, but you’d better have your mother on standby. Maybe, whatever I have might pass in the morning, but pregnant? Nah.”

  “Okay,” Hallison practically sang in the phone. “Take a pregnancy test for the fun of it,” she teased and hung up.

  Returning the cordless phone to its holder on the nightstand, Cheney took a deep breath. She dismissed the nonsense and slid back under the covers. As she closed her eyes, the next voice she heard was Parke’s.

  “I’m heading to Walgreen’s for a pregnancy test.” He closed the bedroom door that she didn’t know he had opened. Evidently, he had heard enough of the one-sided conversation.

  She moaned and frowned. “Lord, not again. I’ve had my quota of seasons.”

  Less than an hour later, Cheney woke again at the sound of excited little voices. Opening her eyes, Parke stood over her, dangling a plastic bag from his fingertips. Again she scooted up and threw back the comforter. “Parke, Hali’s hormones were talking.”

  Parke’s expression alternated between hope and trepidation. “And we’re going to see if yours have anything to say. Take it, baby.” He slowly offered her the bulging bag with three boxed kits.

  Why did she dread the task or the outcome? She looked from Parke to the package. He hadn’t moved.

  “Okay,” she whispered, accepting her fate. She dragged herself to the bathroom and closed the door in vain. As she knew he would, Parke followed. A few minutes later, when the colored bands appeared, they knew.

  “You’re pregnant,” Parke stated.

  “If so, thanks to you.” She gritted her teeth. “I sure hope it’s wrong,” Cheney said and meant it. She had two children, lost two children, terminated one baby, and she was through. “I’ll retake it in the morning.”

  Parke covered her fidgety hand. “I’m staying home.”

  Oh no, this man is not getting ready to drive me crazy, she worried. “That’s not necessary. Hali wants me to go along with her to Dr. Gray’s office. While I’m there, I’ll take another test,” she said to pacify him and calm her nerves, although she predicted her nerves would still be frayed in the morning.

  “You okay? Because I’m scared,” Hallison admitted as she drove herself to the doctor, with Cheney in the passenger seat as if she were the patient.

  “What’s the matter, Hali? Is the baby okay?” Cheney panicked as her head whipped around from looking out the window.

  “I’m talking about you. I’m scared for you.” Hallison accelerated when the light turned green.

  “Yeah, I’m scared for me too. What are the odds of me actually delivering a healthy baby? I really wanted a baby with Parke, but you know what? I even think I could pass as Little Parke’s birth mother. I mean, after all, there are no such things as stepchildren, since I’ve never heard of a step-husband or step-wife.”

  “Trying to talk yourself into it, huh?”

  “I hope I’m doing a good job convincing myself.” Cheney sighed. “Hali, if I’m pregnant, I don’t want you to tell anybody, not even Malcolm.”

  Hallison took one hand off the wheel. “Now, wait a minute. Malcolm and I don’t keep secrets.”

  Cheney was about to say Hallison and Malcolm hadn’t lost any babies, either, but she held her tongue. Hallison was still pregnant, and Cheney didn’t need to plant a seed of doubt. Cheney decided to keep the news to herself. At least she could threaten Parke, knowing if the word got out, he would be the culprit.

  She was fine in her perfect season. I thought getting pregnant was by faith. It’s keeping the baby that seems more trying.

  I have the power to keep you and your unborn child, God spoke.

  An hour later, the Jamieson wives left the doctor’s office. Cheney drove this time. Hallison and her baby boy were doing fine. Cheney wasn’t, after the doctor confirmed her pregnancy. She honestly didn’t know how she felt.

  Later that afternoon while at work, her threat to Parke was ineffective. The string of phone calls she received afterward verified it. Cheney was livid. She wasn’t ready for people’s pity or others’ guarded enthusiasm. A few hours later when she walked in the door at home, Parke was in the kitchen making sundaes for the children as a celebration. The real evidence of his betrayal was the box of gum cigars on the counter.

  She kissed Kami’s cheek and Little Parke’s forehead. With a ridiculous grin on his face, Parke leaned forward and puckered his lips for a kiss.

  Cheney seized the opportunity. She nipped him. “Big mouth.”

  CHAPTER 37

  It was story time at Ferguson Library. Since the day Parke filled Little Parke’s mind about Africa, his son couldn’t get enough information. Already he showed early signs of becoming a history bookworm. When Cheney and the children walked through the door, Josephine was at her post at the counter, looking regal in black. Her hair was piled on top of her head.

  Cheney tried to keep her pregnancy low key. The obvious sign was she couldn’t get enough bed rest, but she didn’t want to disappoint the children and miss storytelling. Parke would be tied up most of the afternoon at an MBA event, lecturing about financial investment and money management.

  She claimed a seat in the back of the room and stretched her legs; legs that her husband had complimented the previous night as having well-toned calves. Relaxing against the wall, Cheney closed her eyes minutes before Josephine sat beside her. “Are you feeling well? Your face isn’t showing your natural beauty.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that. I’m worn out because I’m pregnant, and right now my beauty is in a makeup bag at home.”

  Josephine squealed and clasped her hands. Cheney shushed her. “I didn’t come to get attacked by a room of kids because they can’t hear the tales. I’m glad you’re excited.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re married to a handsome man. Grandmother B summarized your prior difficulties having a baby. I say this is good news.” Josephine smiled, reminding Cheney of her brother’s livelihood as a smile perfectionist.

  Rainey. She remembered his attraction to her. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Cheney lifted a brow. Nobody messed over her twin. “Cut my brother some slack.”

  “Excuse me?” Josephine looked genuinely perplexed.

  “Rainey likes you.” Cheney patted her chest. “If I had to set my brother up on a blind date, I would pick you.”

  “I am honored by your confidence, but I will not be a man’s clean-up woman.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cheney was fully alert.

  “I refuse to repair something I did not break. The bitterness I hear coming from him could only have come from a failed relationship. If he is attracted to me, then he must cut all ties with the past. If he gets a spiritual makeover, then . . . hmm . . . he might be a candidate.

  “I’ve shared with you I want a Christian companion, someone to hold my hand during walks, someone to share a foot long Subway sandwich—club, of course. If a man can take me out to dinner and watch funny movies with me, he ought to be able to read the Bible with me. Does Rainey meet those requirements?”

  At times, Josephine could come across as detached, but Cheney learned that was her personality. A scripture came to her. “That’s a lot to expect from imperfect people. You may not be able to heal his spirit, but you can soothe him with encouraging words. Josephine, did you ever think you may be the only person to draw him to Christ?”

  Josephine looked horrified. She shook her head. “God wouldn’t do that to me.”

  Cheney chuckled. “Oh, yes, our God would. If you want all those things, make it happen—pray. It’s no coincidence you accepted Rainey’s invitation to Fair St. Louis.” Cheney laughed at Josephine’s surprised look. “Yes, he told me about the warring frustration and attraction to you. I don’t consider that a coincidence. God really could use you to bring him to Christ.”