Pearl scooped up Ivy, who was working up a fuss on her play mat. “It’s just you and me this afternoon, little girl.”
The doorbell sounded. “Well, I guess not.”
Pearl opened the door to Miriam. Her fiery curls were tamed into a high bun, and a modest skirt and blouse accentuated her tall, curvy frame. But it was the tranquility in her blue-green eyes that made her beauty shine.
“Hi, Pearl. I’m meeting Thomas in a few minutes. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve been able to chat, so I thought I’d stop by before I headed over to the church.”
Pearl nodded. “It’s been good seeing more of you around here. We appreciate the female company, don’t we, Ivy?”
Miriam moved closer and gazed at the baby with a hint of a smile. She stretched out her hands. “May I?”
“Oh, of course. Here, snuggle this little bug while I get her bottle ready.”
When Pearl returned, Miriam had Ivy propped against her shoulder as she flipped through a scrapbook on the coffee table.
Miriam smiled. “Is this you in this photograph?”
Pearl handed Miriam the bottle and picked up her reading glasses from beside the album. She ran her fingertip over the washed-out pictures. “Yes. I was sporting the blonde bombshell look back in those days.” Pearl winked. “I traded it for this lovely blue-gray fiasco compliments of Babette. Bless her heart. She’ll get the hang of color one of these days.” She chuckled. “I hope. For her sake, and mine.”
Miriam smiled. “And that’s your husband in the picture?”
“Yes. After homecoming service. The year before I got pregnant with Marshall. A real miracle, that was.”
Pearl snuck a glance at Miriam. She hadn’t meant to poke at Miriam’s wounds. But the young woman was looking at Ivy. Pearl wasn’t sure if Miriam heard a word she’d said.
Miriam looked up suddenly. “I have a secret, Pearl. I’m dying to tell somebody, but Thomas wants to keep things quiet until we’re further into it. I hear you’re a good secret keeper . . .”
Pearl mimed zipping her lips.
Miriam bit her bottom lip. “Thomas and I are applying to become foster parents. We’re almost finished with classes, and our home visit is tomorrow.”
Pearl sucked a breath in through her nose as her gaze flicked from Miriam, down to Ivy, and back. She walked over to her couch and sank into its comfort. “That’s wonderful, Miriam.”
Miriam grinned. “We thought we would start out by working with kids who need temporary shelters or respite care. You know, with parents dealing with legal issues or health problems. Or long-term foster parents who need a weekend break to regroup. Then we’ll see if we think we’d be up for more permanent placements.”
“You and Thomas will be wonderful. I always wanted to foster and eventually adopt, but my husband never warmed up to the idea. I did what I could, and I visited children’s homes around Nashville every Thanksgiving.”
“I never thought I would find fostering or adopting fulfilling, but after opening my home and heart to those young mothers and”—Miriam let out a soft chuckle—“oddly enough, watching how you’ve loved Harvey, and how he’s come out of his shell from your love.”
“Oh, that’s the Lord’s doing. I’ve been stumbling along.”
Miriam smirked. “If you say so.” The lines around her playful smile softened into something wistful. “It’s funny. I’m starting to see that when I let go of my grip on my pain, I make space for new things. Things that bless me in a way I never would’ve imagined. I’m getting there little by little—learning how to release my disappointments and embrace the gifts I have.”
“I, for one, am thankful for God’s patience with his children.” Pearl patted Miriam’s knee.
“So you had Marshall when you were forty? That must have been a shock.”
“That’s an understatement. My husband and I were under the impression we weren’t able to conceive. When I scheduled a doctor’s visit, I thought I was ill. Turns out I had severe morning sickness. Baby Marshall and I about sent my poor doctor to an early grave with all his worries about my age. But they were needless. Both the baby and I were as healthy as could be.”
Miriam traced a finger over the bridge of Ivy’s nose. The baby’s eyelids drooped with sleep. “What a blessing it must have been, after having waited so long.”
“Oh, yes. He was this energetic, sociable, ray of sunshine. I wondered how I had been so fortunate to raise such a joyful child. And I promised the Lord I wouldn’t take a moment for granted with him. But even still, I didn’t have him in my life nearly long enough. It about ripped my heart in two when he went off to war.”
“I can’t imagine. And he . . . he didn’t make it back?”
A lump swelled in Pearl’s throat. When Marshall came up in casual conversation, she normally implied she lost him as a casualty of war and let people draw their own conclusions. It was simpler that way. It allowed people to see him for the patriotic hero he was. She took a slow breath. The church members knew the full story. It would be better if Miriam heard it from her instead of the rumor mill.
After Pearl recounted how his tours of duty changed him and the ways she tried to help him but failed to see the things festering beneath the nightmares and extreme mood swings, Miriam pressed her hand to her heart. Her voice came out soft and tender. “I cannot begin to imagine. I think of how I’ve struggled with my own pain, and it suddenly seems rather trivial.”
Pearl shook her head. “It’s not about my pain versus your pain. It’s about sharing in the human experience and knowing what it is to hurt. It takes courage—stepping forward and healing when it’s so tempting, so safe, to stay and worship the altars we’ve built to our pain. Harvey has been a big part of my healing over the past few months. I guess helping him feels like a second chance.”
That evening, Harvey carefully supported Ivy on his knees, singing her a rhyme about a horse.
“What a cute song. Where did you learn it?”
Harvey’s open expression clouded. “Not sure. Must have been from the foster homes. One of the foster moms had a baby.”
Pearl straightened, ears perked for details. “Oh, I didn’t know you had foster parents.”
Harvey poked his tongue in his cheek and turned his head away. “Fourteen sets of ’em.” The words came out a weighted sigh, likely with fourteen separate sets of emotions to match.
“That many?”
He pulled Ivy close. “The ones with the new baby, they tried a lot longer than I expected. Eventually they wearied of the dark shadow following their bright little family around. Just like everyone else.”
The sheer number of times he’d been uprooted left her breathless. No wonder he didn’t trust anyone. And he was so matter-of-fact, as if such treatment was expected. “You said children’s homes the other day.”
“Children’s homes when they couldn’t find anyone to take me. Most people are wary of taking on a kid who has a panic attack every time he gets in a car. Puts a damper on the errand running.”
“Fourteen foster homes, and children’s homes on top of that.” Pearl closed her eyes and saw not the handsome young man before her but a fractured child carrying the unimaginable ache of belonging nowhere, of being too much trouble to be loved.