Two days later, she was propped up with pillows in her bedroom, a pile of magazines on the bedside table. After the first night in the hospital, Judd had been called into work. Agnes stayed with her the second night. Neither of them asked her about her secret again, but they watched her with a new kind of wariness in their eyes that made Bess’ heart hurt.
Still, she schooled herself to keep her mouth shut. The scare about the baby had proved to Bess once and for all that the Taylors wanted this boy who was moving more and more restlessly in Bess’ belly. And, as much as Bess detested the idea of Lillian being the woman who would replace her in her son’s life, she was slowly training herself to accept the idea. The alternative was too selfish to contemplate. If Bess stayed to raise her baby boy, she would be putting little Daniel in harm’s way just by being near him. If James Ruben ever discovered where Bess was and found her with a son in tow, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both. Bess felt the truth of that reality in her very bones.
Agnes came into the bedroom with a lunch tray piled high with turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and giblet gravy, sweet potatoes and baby marshmallows oozing in butter. The sight of the leftovers of a Thanksgiving dinner no one got to eat on Thanksgiving Day made Bess feel guilty all over again for causing this family so much trouble. She forced herself to place the heaping spoonfuls of food into her mouth, chew and swallow, the burst of flavors barely registering in her dulled senses.
Agnes sat in the rocking chair, watching Bess eat while she slowly creaked the rocker back and forth, her house slippers, which were frayed on the edges and splattered with paint, a reminder of one of her many re-decorating projects, making a thin, rubbing sound against the shag carpet.
“I wanted to talk to you about something, Bess.” Agnes held up her hand when Bess opened her mouth to protest the request. “I don’t expect you to say anything. I just want you to listen, just listen. Would you do that for me, darling?”
Bess nodded slowly, feeling her limp curls bounce against the back of her neck. This was going to make finishing the daunting plate in front of her even more difficult. She forced a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth and worked it around with her tongue.
Agnes stopped rocking and leaned forward onto her knees, clasping her long fingers loosely in front of her. “Something you said at the hospital has really been on my mind these past days, Bess. You told me that you had always been alone, so alone that you don’t even feel you can trust us with whatever is bothering you.
“I lost my mother when I was thirteen. Judd is the spitting image of my father, right down to his limited conversation skills, so there were plenty of times growing up that I sorely missed my mother. You may not believe this, but even when you belong, you can feel so completely alone.
“The thing is, Bess, none of us are ever actually alone. Whether we realize it or not, Jesus is always here, and He is just a prayer away no matter how big or small our trouble. When you collapsed on me in the kitchen, calling out to Him for guidance is what kept me calm while we waited for the paramedics to arrive. When I want to despair about losing my Daniel, I pray for peace, I pray to thank Him for the blessings He bestows every day even though I deserve none of them, like the beauty in the sunrise, the feel of Jethro’s warm heart beating as he leans against me of an evening, the gift of a daughter when all I’ve ever had was sons.
“He comes to me then, in a sense of calm that settles on me like a warmth in my chest that just grows and grows until it reaches to my fingertips and toes. I know you haven’t had the opportunity to know Jesus like I have, Bess. I want to give you that opportunity. If you’ll let me.”
Bess pulled at the covers nervously. “They took us to church, lined up all us orphans in our old, but clean uniforms and made us sit in pews in the back, away from the other children like we had something contagious hanging round us. And the sermons. God wanted us to be perfect. But we were fidgety, nervous little things who were constantly being scolded for our late-night skirmishes and our whining for seconds so that we knew God would never love us. Wasn’t our life already evidence of His punishment?”
She looked out the window, at the dusting of snow, like fine powder, blanketing the posts of the barbed-wire fences and making the cacti look cold and out of place. “What if there are things you’ve done God can’t forgive? Is Jesus there for you then, Agnes?”
The older woman got up from the rocker, took the tray of food away from the bed, and sat down beside Bess, laying a hand on the younger woman’s thigh. “By your own admission, trust doesn’t come easily to you. And yet, despite that, you didn’t hesitate to put some trust in us, perfect strangers, when you knew that doing so was actually what was best for your baby. Think about how much you care for your child, whom you haven’t even met yet. Do you think if he did something terrible and then came to you all repentant about it that you wouldn’t forgive him his mistake?
“God’s love is even bigger and all-encompassing than the love a mother feels for her child, Bess. You know why Jesus is our Savior, don’t you? It is because He came to earth as God’s only Son, born of a woman and yet a part of God as well, God living as a man, facing all the same trials, tribulations and temptations as other men. But Jesus, unlike the rest of us, was truly without sin. Despite His innocence, He allowed Himself to die on the cross for my sin and your sin and the sins of all humanity, once and for all. Whomever believes in that sacrifice and calls on Jesus as Lord and Savior is given the gift of salvation.”
Bess shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She felt heat rising up her neck, turning her cheeks red. “Nobody gives something for nothing. What’s the catch?”
Agnes smiled. “Grace is salvation as a gift from Jesus, Bess. We don’t earn our heavenly home. We receive our place in heaven because we believe that Jesus died for our sins. When we believe, Jesus sends us His Holy Spirit, who dwells in us to help us strive to become perfect, just as Christ was perfect. The Holy Spirit helps us live by loving God first and foremost and then by loving others and treating them as we want ourselves to be treated. We never reach perfection in this life, but the process of persevering through life’s challenges with God’s help is part of our becoming something only God knows as best for His heavenly realms.”
Bess was thinking about James Ruben for more reasons than the obvious. Up until a few weeks before, she had lived in the certain knowledge that she had killed the man. Could God forgive that? Would she forgive little Daniel if something similar happened to him?
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to my baby ever, Agnes,” Bess said. “If God really loves you, why did He let Daniel get killed in Vietnam?”
A faraway look passed across Agnes’ eyes. “For reasons only God knows, with His omnipotent view of all things past, present and future, good and bad exist in this fallen world, Bess. Good people die too soon right along with the bad people. But God doesn’t want us to be focused on this world. He wants us to have our eyes on heaven, where we will spend eternity with Him. He alone knows what wonders we will experience there. He alone knows what character traits we need to hone to serve the kingdom best and to be served in eternity. I have to have faith that whatever happens to me, good or bad, in this life, God will be there to help me make it through so that I become the kind of Christian He needs and wants me to be.”
“My head is spinning,” Bess grimaced, laying one head on the side of her temple.
Agnes patted her leg. “Bess, I’ve been studying God’s word for nearly 60 years, and I still learn something new every day. The Bible is the best way to get to know who God really is. All His promises are there. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to start studying God’s word with you. Would you let me?”
Bess’ throat felt hot and tight. She swallowed back unexpected tears and a kind of rising panic. Agnes was asking her to surrender herself, which included giving up control over her own life to an invisible God, one who had only brought her pain. On the other hand, the promise in Agnes’ words rang something deep inside Bess, diffusing a kind of lightness throughout her body that made her feel like floating.
“It will certainly give me something to do,” Bess finally said. “I suppose it’s as good an activity for bed rest as any.”
Agnes leaned in to hug her, filling Bess’ nostrils with scents of vanilla and almond extract and the baby powder Agnes applied liberally, her one, true luxury. “I’ve been praying for you since my Daniel was a little boy,” she whispered, “long before he was of an age to marry, that his wife would be a loving, kind woman who followed God. You are so much more than I ever expected. You are going to be one fierce woman of God.”
And then, she swept up from the bed, grabbed the lunch tray and hurried to the bedroom door, where she turned and ordered Bess. “Take yourself a little nap, dear. We’ll start reading later this afternoon.”
The older woman’s humming sounded from the hall and faded as Agnes reached the kitchen. Bess pulled the covers up to her neck and closed her eyes, a soft feeling in her chest. If this was an inkling of what real love felt like, maybe she could get used to the emotion after all.
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