Kathryn Alexander - A Wedding In The Family

“I’m not a stranger to your daughter, Mrs. Sanders, but she really doesn’t know me well enough to have agreed to come with me as easily as she did. I think you need to discuss that with her. And if you and your husband can’t get your act together about transportation for her any better than you did tonight, then keep Heather home where she’s safe—not sitting alone at the center at 9:00 p.m.”

How could this woman have been so careless? Adam wondered as he stood looking at Angela. She certainly appeared to be the loving, motherly type.

“Her uncle should have picked her up. I’ll get in touch with him tonight to find out what happened.” She offered her remark quietly, humiliated and frightened to think that this had happened, that Heather had been in such a potentially dangerous predicament, that this man she didn’t really know had lashed out at her so contemptuously, so angrily…and so accurately. “Thank you, very much, for bringing her home, Mr….”

“Dalton. Adam Dalton. I’m the director at the center.”

Angela coughed again. “Well, thank you, Mr. Dalton. I’ve been ill this week, and I was asleep when you arrived, so I had no idea of the time. Hours could have passed before I realized that my brother hadn’t brought Heather home. If you hadn’t been there to help…” She stopped abruptly, gripped with the thought of some stranger taking her little girl away. Her eyes burned with tears and her congested head seemed to pound with the beginnings of a furious headache.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Sanders. And I hope I never need to help you in this manner again,” he stated briskly, the chill in his voice not warming one bit. Then he turned to leave.

“Goodbye, Adam. Thanks for rescuing me,” Heather stated rather matter-of-factly, bringing the hint of a smile to Adam’s face as he looked and winked.

“See ya next week,” he said as he left.

“He did save you from a dangerous situation,” Angela commented, giving her child a fierce hug and ushering her inside the apartment. Angela locked the front door securely, suddenly very conscious of safety. “But we really need to thank the Lord, too. I pray for your safety every day, and I’m so grateful to Him for watching over you.” Angela walked into the kitchen and picked up the telephone receiver to dial her younger brother’s number. She wondered when she’d have time to buy a new answering machine to replace the broken one on the counter by her elbow. Maybe after school tomorrow.

“Do you pray for the boys, too?” Heather asked.

“Absolutely. You’ve prayed with me enough to know that I do.” Angela listened to the rings, waiting for Eric or Hope to pick up.

“Did you pray for Daddy?” came Heather’s next question.

Angela looked into the crystal-blue eyes of her inquisitive daughter, wondering how to give the complicated answer to such a simple question. Then the doorbell rang again. And again.

“Angela?” a voice called.

“It’s Uncle Eric,” Heather said, and rushed to open the front door.

“Heather! I’m so glad you’re home! What happened? Who picked you up?” Eric was inside the door, hugging his niece.

“What happened to you? ” Angela asked. “How could you forget to—”

“I didn’t forget her,” Eric explained quickly. “I got stuck in traffic. A semi overturned causing a chemical spill on the highway, and they wouldn’t let anyone through. Finally, they rerouted us, and I went straight to the center—but Heather was already gone. Did you pick her up?”

“No, Adam Dalton brought her home. He works at the center, and he found her waiting alone on the curb.”

“I’m sorry, Angela, but there was nothing I could do—”

“It’s all right,” she assured between coughs. “Heather’s home. She’s fine.” Angela pulled a cough drop from the pocket of her sweatpants and popped it into her mouth. “I’m just so thankful Mr. Dalton cared enough to see that she made it home safely.”

“Adam is nice, Mom,” Heather commented.

“I’m sure he is, hon,” Angela remarked. Although he had certainly not exhibited that quality toward herself, she had glimpsed it when he’d said “goodbye” to her daughter.

“Well, again, I’m sorry, Angela. Hope and the girls are waiting in the car, and I want to get back out there to tell them Heather is okay. Hope is so upset with me for running late, you’d think I caused that chemical spill myself.”

“Can’t Cassie and Carrie come in for a while?” Heather asked.

“Your cousins will probably catch my cold if they do,” Angela said.

“Are you still feeling so sick? I talked to Mom and Dad, and they said they’re keeping the boys tonight so you could rest. I could take Heather home with me—”

“No, thanks. We’ll be fine here together.” Angela slipped an arm around her daughter and pulled her close. After this evening, she wasn’t certain she’d ever let Heather out of her sight again. At least, not until the girl turned thirty. “We’ll see you later.”

“Okay, good night,” he called as he left. And Angela, once again, locked the front door.

“Time for bed, sweetheart,” Angela said. “Go get into your pajamas.”

“But what about my bath?”

“It’s late, and I feel awful. Let’s skip the bath tonight.”

Within minutes, Angela and Heather were kneeling beside Heather’s bed with the colorful butterflydesign bedspread.

“We really need to thank the Lord for taking care of you tonight.”

Heather nodded. “‘When I am afraid, I will trust in you,’” she quoted. “Psalm 56:3. That’s my memory verse for Sunday School this week.”

Angela smiled, then sneezed. She grabbed a tissue from the flower-printed box at the side of the bed. “You trusted Him, and He did take care of you.”

“Yes. I prayed for God to send someone—someone I knew, not a stranger—to take me home. And he sent Adam.”

“Yes, He did,” Angela agreed, then added, “So, let’s thank Him for that.”

After several minutes of prayer, Heather climbed between the sheets and pulled her bedspread up to her chin.

Angela kissed her daughter’s forehead and turned to leave. “See you in the morning, sweetheart.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, hon?”

“You didn’t answer my question about Dad. Did you pray for him? ”

Angela sighed. Sometimes the truth hurt. “I did in the beginning, Heather. A lot But towards the end…after he left, no, I guess I didn’t. At least, not much. And I regret that.”

“Do you think he is in heaven?”

“If he asked the Lord to forgive him for his sins, then he’s in heaven.”

“Sylvia, too?”

Sylvia. A woman Angela had every reason to hate, but never found it in her heart to do so. “Yes. God forgives everyone who wants His forgiveness.”

“Even if they didn’t want it until the last thing before they died?” At the sight of Heather’s doubting frown, her mother gave a smile of attempted comfort.

“Yes, even if it was the last thing they ever asked for, God wouldn’t say ‘no.’” She walked back over to Heather’s bed, leaned down and gave the girl another kiss—cold germs and all—on the forehead. “Don’t worry about Dad. He wouldn’t want you to do that. Now, try to get some sleep.”

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe God wasn’t just taking care of me tonight Maybe He sent Adam for you, too.”

“No,” she responded somewhere between a soft laugh and a cough. “God sent Adam Dalton for you. Mommy isn’t asking for a man in her life.”

“But you’ve been alone a long time. Wouldn’t you like to have somebody?”

“I’m fine here with you and your brothers. I do not need any more than that,” she stated emphatically. “Good night, Heather.”