Lois Richer - Meant-To-Be Baby

A little off? Not the way Ben would have put it.

“Coffee might help,” Margaret suggested.

Perhaps he was the only one who saw Victoria almost gag.

“I’ll wait a bit, thanks, Auntie.”

“I’m sorry if rescuing us caused you to be ill,” he apologized.

“It didn’t.” Victoria avoided looking at him. As if to divert attention from herself, she asked Mikey if he’d slept well.

“I had a good sleep,” his nephew said with a grin. “When I waked up, I saw your little light.”

“Auntie Margaret gave me that light after I came here to live.” Victoria smiled at her aunt. “I was older than you are, Mikey, but I still had bad dreams. Auntie said that when I woke up afraid, I should look at the lamp and remember that Jesus was right beside me, protecting me.”

“Like you said to me!” Mikey exclaimed. “I did an’ it worked. I didn’t get ’fraid.”

“I’m glad. Excuse me.” Victoria suddenly burst from her chair and bolted from the room.

“Oh, the poor dear.” Tillie put on the kettle. “I’ll make her some peppermint tea.”

“I’ll get some crackers.” Margaret frowned as she set the packet on the table. “The child is so thin. It’s not healthy.”

“It’s the fashion now and she’s hardly a child.” Tillie smiled as Victoria returned, looking, in Ben’s opinion, even more pasty-faced than before. “All right, dear?”

“Just a flu bug.” She studied his sling. “That doesn’t look like my work.”

“This morning, Jake drove me in to see the doctor who checked it then redid it. He said your work was very professional.” Ben couldn’t help wondering if Victoria actually heard him. She looked as if she was thinking about something else.

“That’s nice.” She smiled wanly before tearing open the crackers. “Too bad the girls had to leave.”

“Yes, it is.” Tillie exchanged what Ben thought was an odd look with her sister.

“We never had a chance to tell them our idea,” Margaret murmured.

“Your—idea?” Victoria suddenly went still. She glanced from one senior to the other before asking in a hesitant voice, “What’s your idea, Aunties?”

“To make The Haven a—a spa. Is that the word, sister?” Tillie looked to Margaret for clarification.

Ben watched Victoria’s eyes widen. She seemed to scramble for a response.

“A spa is a—good idea, Aunties,” she managed to say. “The Haven has a wonderful location. But—well, we don’t have any pools or hot tubs or mud baths or masseuses. You know,” she continued when the aunts looked confused, “the usual spa things that draw people.”

“Oh, no, dear. Spa’s the wrong word.” Tillie frowned at Margaret. “Can you explain?”

“Think retreat,” Margaret clarified. “A retreat for kids. Troubled kids. Foster kids. Like you were, Victoria.”

Ben immediately saw the potential. Acres of land for hikes to wear kids out. Wild animals to observe, room to relax and allow nature’s peace to calm tortured hearts.

“For kids?” Victoria frowned. “But there’s nothing here for kids!”

“There was for you,” Margaret reminded tartly.

“Yes, but that was years ago, Auntie. Today’s kids are techies, constantly connected. They’d need organized activities—” She stopped, no doubt aware of the sisters’ growing irritation.

“I can see it.” Ben probably should have shut up given Victoria’s annoyed glance in his direction. But he couldn’t. “Trails to hike, endurance or training courses, a chance to work with the cows and chickens you have. Kids might really enjoy a place like this.”

“You know a lot about kids?” Victoria demanded, probably reminding him of his claim not to know how to parent. But Ben let his imagination go.

“I don’t, but I’d guess the river I’ve seen crossing the valley could offer decent swimming in the summer,” he mused.

“Where would these kids stay?” Victoria’s question was directed at her aunts. “They have to sleep somewhere. They’d need counsellors or someone to watch them.” She scowled. “There are only ten bedrooms here in The Haven.”

“There are the cabins,” Margaret replied.

Ben glanced through the big window but saw no buildings.

“Aunties, the cabins haven’t been used in years. They’re decrepit and...” Victoria’s tone bordered on exasperation.

“No, they’re not.” Tillie’s normally soft voice was loud and firm. “Jake checked them over for us. He did some repairs himself and oversaw local volunteers who helped with others. Bottom line, we have eight cabins that will each sleep four, five at a pinch. Maggie’s already ordered new mattresses for the cots,” she added defiantly.

“We weren’t going to say that, Tillie,” her sister admonished. “But since you have...” She shrugged. “We also ordered some canoes. Boating on the river was something our boys enjoyed so much,” she explained to Ben.

Boys? he wondered.

“Our fiancés were real outdoorsmen,” Tillie agreed with a reminiscent smile.

Victoria looked dumbfounded. Mikey glanced curiously from one woman to the other. Ben was intrigued.

“Describe who you envision coming here,” he murmured.

“Children like our four girls,” Tillie said with a smile at Victoria. “Kids who need to escape the lure of drugs or whatever evil they’re trapped in. Or perhaps they and their foster families simply need a break from each other, time to think.”

“We’re still in touch with the foster system in Edmonton, you know,” Margaret added with a pointed look at her foster daughter. “They think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“I’m sure they do.” Victoria chewed another cracker.

“You think we’re too old, don’t you?” Tillie frowned. “Well, we’ll never be too old to answer when the Lord calls us.”

“Are you sure He called you, Auntie?” Victoria’s normally musical voice had a frosty edge. “Or was it your friends in Social Services who made you think this was a good idea?”

Ben watched the twins draw erect, their annoyance obvious.

“We have thought and prayed about this decision for months, Victoria. We’ve conducted many inquiries into how the logistics would work, the cost, the need for helpers,” Margaret spoke clearly, her voice confident. “We have sought the Lord over and over to ascertain His will. We believe this is it.”

“You’re going ahead with it.” The words carried resignation.

“We’d like to.” Tillie took her hand. “On one condition.”

“We’ve been praying that you’d be willing to help us,” Margaret finished.

“Me?” Victoria’s dark head reared back, gray eyes wide. “How could I help?”

“My dear, you are a fixer, a problem-solver for the hotel. You didn’t train for it. You trained to be a teacher. But when your school closed, you took the hotel job and mastered anticipating and resolving situations that frustrated others. You made things work. That’s what we want, someone who will enable our idea. Right, Maggie?” She looked to Margaret who nodded once.

“But—but—” Victoria’s glance moved around the table, staring at each one of them. Ben felt her gaze rested on him longest.

“May I ask something?” he said quickly, desperate to know if his trip had been in vain.

“Please do.” Tillie inclined her head.

“Does your new plan mean you’ll stop writing people in the military? That you won’t want them to come to The Haven anymore?”

“We see the two meshing. Veterans who visit The Haven may be willing to interact with our guests, even become mentors.” Margaret’s words came crisp and clear. “We think they’d have much to offer.”

“And that brings us to the reason you came to see us, doesn’t it?” Tillie’s smile warmed him, chased away the fear that had hatched inside him. “Let’s go to the study and talk about your situation, Ben. I’m sure Victoria and Mikey can find something to do until we’re finished.” She rose, linked her arm with her sister’s and beckoned him before they walked out.