A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(10)

“Oh yes. We had quite the gabfest about him.”

“That’s great,” Zach said. “Tell me more.”

Nana excitedly shared the story, more animated than Laurel had seen her in a very long while.

    Kicking Zach’s leg under the table, Laurel glared at him. She was starting to think that they shouldn’t be encouraging Nana with this line of thought. Her grandmother was losing sight of reality. While she agreed that they shouldn’t argue with Nana or point out that it was a fantasy, they shouldn’t encourage her.



* * *



—

Laurel didn’t get a chance to speak to him privately until they were getting ready for bed. “You can’t go along with her wild imagination, Zach,” she said, wanting to clear the air. “While I’m pleased that Nana is showing improvement, I’m afraid it’s going too far. I saw her show you the baby booties she’s knitting.” Zach seemed to be playing along with Nana more than Laurel was comfortable with. He, too, seemed to be living in the fantasy world right along with Nana, and it distressed Laurel. At least one person in this house needed to be living in reality.

“What about the booties?” Zach challenged.

The last thing Laurel wanted was for them to argue. The subject of a baby was taboo. He knew that. She offered him a shallow smile. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to encourage her along those lines.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“You know why not.”

    She shouldn’t have to spell it out, but she was forced to. Laurel had to put a stop to this nonsense and clear the air—otherwise, it would destroy their marriage.

“I don’t want her thinking there’s a baby in our future,” she continued. “You’re going to build up her hopes, and there’s never going to be a baby.”

Her husband’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing for several awkward seconds. He didn’t need to; his look said everything. He didn’t have the courage to speak out loud what his true feelings were. He wanted to keep believing, to cling to the possibility, even if it was a remote one.

Laurel could see the defiance in his eyes.

“Come on, Zach, we agreed on this. Children are simply not happening for us. They never will. We have to accept it and move forward.”

Zach briefly closed his eyes. “I don’t want to argue, especially when this isn’t about us. It’s about Nana.”

“You’re right,” Laurel reluctantly agreed. “It’s not about us. It’s about Nana.” She couldn’t help worrying about her grandmother’s unusual revelations about Mrs. Miracle, though. This angel-visitation stuff was something one would hear in Sunday school—not today in the here and now.

“Look at the difference Mrs. Miracle has already made,” Zach reminded her. “Your grandmother’s eyes are bright again. Her heart is full of hope. It’s clear that this Mrs. Miracle, whoever and whatever she is, is good for Nana. Let’s focus on that fact and let her believe what she wants. Let’s enjoy seeing Nana so full of life again, and more like her old self.”

    Her husband was right. She loved seeing her grandmother so happy and revitalized. Laurel didn’t want to ruin Nana’s newfound enjoyment. But Laurel wasn’t about to let herself get wrapped up in this fantasy world.

“And if, by some miracle, a baby should happen to—”

“Zach, stop,” Laurel pleaded. “Just stop. You know as well as I do this is a closed subject. Dead. Buried. Grieved.”

“Oh baby,” Zach begged. “You know I would never intentionally hurt you, not after everything we’ve been through. All I’m asking is that you leave the door open just a crack.”

Laurel stepped away from her husband and raised both hands, warning him off. “I can’t…not after three expensive and grueling IVF treatments. Not after Jonathan. Do you seriously want us to go through that kind of heartache again? Is that what you want?”

With everything in her, she couldn’t buy into it. Not again. Not when she’d been emotionally and physically depleted in their quest for a family. Only those who had suffered through infertility understood the desperation they faced as they waited for a baby, then the pain that came when they were denied at every turn.

    Laurel’s heart ached to watch her nana knit booties for a child she’d never hold or have the opportunity to love. Of course, once they were finished, if they ever were, she could always add them to the pile of newborn clothing to donate.



* * *



—

The following afternoon, Zach sat in his office cubicle, his hand on his phone and his mind working at warp speed. Laurel didn’t know what he’d done. She didn’t have a clue that a month after Jonathan had been claimed by his birth father, Zach had reached out to the adoption agency and asked that their names be reinstated. Guilt ate at him. He didn’t want to think what Laurel would do if she ever found out. He hated keeping secrets from her, but it was better that she not know what he’d done. Nevertheless, it felt deceitful and dishonest on his part. Not telling her ate at him. His real fear was this: If he didn’t tell Laurel, eventually the underhandedness of what he’d done would crumble the very foundation of their marriage.