Missy Tippens - The Doctor's Second Chance

Well, she hoped God would be okay with her returning. And hoped Jake would show up with Abigail so Violet could check on them.

After the way he got defensive yesterday when she asked about the baby, maybe it was time to suggest he find someone else who could offer advice, someone who could help him with child care. Possibly an older teenager or college student in the church or another parent. Surely someone in this congregation would be willing.

Yes, she was definitely meddling. Still, she wouldn’t rest until she knew Jake and Abigail were in good hands.

Violet stepped through the door into the back of the sanctuary. The space was small but beautiful. She stopped and admired the colorful stained glass windows depicting parts of the Bible, stories she’d read as a child each night as her mother or, more often, one of the nannies tucked her in.

Having arrived a bit early, Violet found the crowd was sparse. She’d hoped to run into someone she knew. Instead, she glanced around at strangers, her stomach a tense mass of nerves. She didn’t really know anyone well in Appleton, although she had met a few people when she attended the church’s fund-raising auction for the Food4Kids program back in the spring.

Violet had bid on and won a trip to a lake house that belonged to two local families. She was acquainted with the daughters of one of the owners. Darcy O’Malley worked in the hospital lab, and they had chatted a few times when Violet dropped by the lab on weekends. She’d later met Darcy’s sister, Chloe O’Malley, at her clothing boutique, Chloe’s Closet. Maybe one of them would show up for the service.

Violet scanned the sanctuary looking for Grace Hunt, a kind grandmotherly woman who had dropped by to welcome Violet to town when she’d moved in. Grace had invited Violet to the church on several occasions, so surely she would be here today.

At least Violet would know someone besides Jake.

“Hello. Welcome.” An elderly man in gray slacks, a navy blazer and a red striped tie approached with his hand extended. “I’m Ted Greer, pastor of the church. You’re the new pediatrician, aren’t you?”

Shaking his hand, she smiled. “Yes. Violet Crenshaw. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to visit.”

His kind eyes warmed. “We’re glad you’re here now. Do you work on Sundays?”

“I’m usually on call. I should probably apologize ahead of time. I occasionally may have to leave in the middle of the service.”

“That’s no problem at all. We’d love to have you whenever possible. Maybe next week you can come an hour earlier and join us for Bible study and coffee, as well.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll consider it.” She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, though. Needed to meet a few people first.

“If you’ll pick up a brochure on the way out, you’ll see a listing of Sunday school classes and other small group meetings we have throughout the week. I hope you’ll visit around, find a place where you feel comfortable.”

“Ted?” someone called from the choir loft while tapping a microphone that appeared to be dead.

“Excuse me for running off,” Ted said. “I think they’re having trouble with the sound system. Again, welcome. We’re glad God brought you here today.” He patted her hand, reminding her of her grandfather, and then strode to the front of the church.

Her smile faltered. When she’d left her hometown so many years ago to go to college, severing contact with her parents, she’d hurt her grandfather. Though she’d remained close to him, she’d also disappointed him. On his deathbed, he’d told her he still prayed daily that she would forgive her parents and reconcile. He died having never seen that prayer answered.

And she still hadn’t found it in her heart to forgive them for refusing to help her keep her son, for forcing her to give him up for adoption. She hadn’t seen her parents since her granddad’s funeral, where she’d avoided extended conversation.

Pushing aside the painful memory and the guilt, she steered away from the center aisle and moved to the far left. She inched her way down to about the fourth row from the back and took a seat on the end. As church members entered, they came over to greet her. They were a friendly bunch, making her glad she’d come.

Trying not to be conspicuous, she searched the crowd for Jake in case he’d come in while she was talking. But he wasn’t there.

Her shoulders drooped. Had he had a bad night? An infant would certainly make getting ready difficult. Or maybe he didn’t attend regularly.

Whatever the reason for his absence, she could still check out possible women in the congregation who could help him with Abigail. As the organist played a prelude, Violet scoped out the room. There were definitely a few young mothers she could try to meet to feel them out, see if they might be available.

Five minutes into the service as the pastor was making announcements, the door behind Violet opened. Maybe it was Jake. Her neck muscles tensed.

She glanced back, and sure enough, Jake was headed down the center aisle wearing khaki pants and a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He carried Abigail’s car seat as if it didn’t weigh a pound.

Though his beard was neatly trimmed and his hair was freshly washed, the man looked tired. Harried. And he was obviously late.

Had he had trouble giving Abigail a bath? Had they not gotten any sleep last night? Could there be something wrong with Abigail that Violet had missed?

She snapped her attention back to the front of the church and crossed her arms, her teeth clamped tightly together. Jake was a grown man. She shouldn’t worry so much.

Jake slid in the other end of her row— her row , of all places. As he set the carrier on the seat beside him, she tried not to stare. Had he spotted her?

She needed to face the front and concentrate on worshipping.

Yet part of the way through the service, when they stood to sing a hymn, she found herself looking over to check on Abigail. Once she realized she couldn’t get a clear view of the baby, her gaze wandered upward.

Jake’s gaze locked with hers. He didn’t crack a smile or spare a wave. The man was used to being the boss at the work site, the one checking up on others. He apparently didn’t like thinking someone might be checking up on him.

Well, that was too bad. She wiggled her fingers at him in a friendly wave.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment and then turned back to his hymnbook, singing along until the song came to a close.

Always good at blocking out distractions, Violet sat and tuned in to the pastor’s sermon. When he began to preach about the prodigal son, she stilled.

Seriously?

Had God whispered in Pastor Greer’s ear that a wayward believer would show up in need of a good talking-to?

No one in the sanctuary could possibly know how convicted she felt, but Violet’s face burned in shame at how she’d tossed aside her faith for more than a decade. Ever since the day fourteen years ago when that little pregnancy test stick had turned positive, when her prayers for help had gone unanswered.

Though Violet wondered if maybe God had been the one to nudge her to come today, she still couldn’t bring herself to pray. God probably didn’t care to hear from her.

Abigail whimpered. A second whimper cranked up to a good cry, distracting Violet from the message. At the moment, she welcomed the distraction.

Jake looked a bit panicky, rifling through the diaper bag, then popping a pacifier in the baby’s mouth.

Apparently, she spit it out because the crying kicked up a notch.

Maybe Violet should scoot over to help.

Jake unhooked the car seat straps and lifted Abigail out, his movements rushed and awkward. Tough to be calm and collected when everyone around was beginning to stare. Even if they were smiling.