Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(43)

Our son was in the backyard throwing balls around with a couple of neighborhood kids. As always, Chase was with him, barking and running after all the loose balls. The sound of Cody’s excited young voice drifted toward me, and tired though I was, I felt a surge of happiness knowing that right outside this window was my son.

“Hi, sweetheart.” I kissed Brad and he slipped an arm around me.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Better, now that you’re home.” He smiled. “Aside from that, busy.”

I set my purse on the kitchen counter. “Mine, too.” Since Brad works for UPS, he has to meet a daily quota or “delivery expectation” every day, which means he’s constantly on the go.

I took a tray of raw cut-up vegetables and dip from the refrigerator. It was difficult to get Cody to eat vegetables and he could be downright inventive at finding reasons he shouldn’t have to. When he was eight, he’d announced in an earnest voice that God had personally spoken to him. When Brad asked him what divine message had been revealed, Cody had said that, according to God, he shouldn’t eat any more green beans.

“What’s so funny?” Brad asked, turning away from the stove.

“I was just thinking about God telling Cody he didn’t have to eat green beans.”

Brad laughed out loud. “Good thing the kid likes raw carrots and broccoli.”

“I suspect that has more to do with the dip,” I said, but at least he was putting something green and orange in his mouth that didn’t contain sugar.

I opened the silverware drawer and extracted what we needed for the evening meal. “Carol Girard stopped in this afternoon,” I said.

Carol was a good friend and one of my very first customers. When I met her, she and her husband, Doug, had been experiencing fertility problems. In an effort to reduce her stress and prepare for the IVF treatments, Carol had quit her job.

After working in a high-pressure position as an investment banker, she’d discovered that staying home wasn’t as easy as she’d assumed. She’d grown restless and bored. Carol had wandered into the yarn store during one of the lengthy walks she’d started taking—and when she learned the class would be knitting a baby blanket, she felt it was a sign that she’d have her baby.

Their prayers were answered, but not in a way anyone had expected. She and Doug had adopted a baby boy they’d named Cameron.

“How is Carol?”

I looked my husband straight in the eye, grinning widely. “She’s pregnant.”

“Carol?” A smile broke out.

I nodded. I knew what he was thinking because that very thought had gone through my mind, too. Doug and Carol had spent thousands upon thousands of dollars trying to conceive. They’d finally given up on ever having a child—and then they’d adopted Cameron. And now…

“She’s sure?”

“Three months sure,” I told him.

As I recalled, there was no medical reason Carol couldn’t conceive. It had just never happened, despite every test and procedure modern medicine could provide.

“I’ll bet Doug’s happy,” Brad said. Like my own husband, Doug was one of those men who value family—a natural dad.

“Doug is thrilled. So’s Cameron—they’ve told him he’s going to be a big brother.” The three-year-old was as excited as his parents. While they were in the yarn store, he’d wanted Carol to buy a plush lamb I had on display for what he called “Mama’s baby.”

“I’m glad for them,” Brad told me. “Why don’t we have them over sometime soon? We’ll celebrate.”

I nodded. I’d been on an emotional high ever since I’d heard the news. I knew Jacqueline and Alix would share my feelings. A new baby pattern book had arrived earlier in the week and I planned to knit a project out of it. Maybe another baby blanket. I could envision a reunion of that first knitting class in a few months. We’d present Carol with hand-knit gifts to welcome this new baby.

The high lasted until later that night as I got ready for bed. I was washing my face when it hit me. Carol’s pregnancy had suddenly, cruelly reminded me: I would never have a baby. The emotional punch came out of nowhere and struck with such intensity that I closed my eyes and leaned against the bathroom counter. I held my breath until the pain began to subside.

Brad was already in bed, sitting up against the pillows, reading. Cody had been asleep for a couple of hours. I was grateful for that, because I didn’t want him to see me like this.

Brad has always been sensitive to my moods. The moment I walked into the bedroom, he knew something was wrong. He lowered his book and looked at me.

With a huge lump in my throat, I lifted the covers and climbed silently into bed.

“Lydia, what is it?”

“I’m happy for Carol,” I said in a shaking voice. “But it hit me just now…. I can’t have children. I mean, I’ve known all along and it isn’t like it’s any surprise…so I don’t understand why I should feel like this now.”

“We’ll never have a baby of our own,” he said softly. “We have to accept that.”

I was in my teens when I first underwent chemotherapy and radiation treatments. From the time I was sixteen, I knew my ability to conceive had been lost. I would never, under any circumstances, bear a child. Brad and I had discussed this at length before we married. I thought I had accepted it.