Rebecca's Promise (32 page)

It would be a good life,
she told herself, nearly saying it out loud.
A good life and a wise choice too.

Walking back to the garage, the low sound of the humming washing machine grew louder. She stepped inside and turned the washing machine’s wringer around to squeeze dry the next load.

What a wise woman Emma really was. I’ve always felt a special bond with Emma, and now I will be like her.
The first pleasant feelings of the day ran though her, bringing with them a sort of comfort Rebecca hadn’t known in a long time.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the wail of the baby from inside, heard faintly above the noise of the washing machine.
He’s got healthy lungs,
she thought.
Already able to make his needs known. It’s the male in him.

She quickly reached over to slow the washing machine motor down, but didn’t turn it off. Figuring she would be back before long, she left it running rather than restart the motor when she came back out.

She disengaged the wringer and swung the bar out of the way of any danger. The motion was out of pure habit because there was no one around at the moment to get their hands caught while she was gone.

Stepping inside, she noticed that Jonathon’s wails were louder now. Leona was already awake and getting to her feet.

“I’ll get him,” Rebecca said quickly, rushing past the protesting Leona. “You need to stay off your feet.”

“I have to do something around the house. You’ll have me feeling completely worthless.”

“With eight children you have plenty to do,” Rebecca said over her shoulder, as she hurried down the hall.

The back bedroom door was open, baby Jonathon’s voice filling the hall. His cries quieted abruptly as she came into the bedroom, as if he heard her footsteps cross the invisible line of the door’s threshold.

He was waving his little arms and legs vigorously and trying to fix his eyes on Rebecca. She drew close and said, “Hungry, are you?” He seemed to be trying to fly as she lifted him into the air.

“Are we ready for Mama?” she asked him. “Little Jonathon want to eat?”

He moved his feet in his excitement, one soft punt landing to the side of her nose.

“Now, now,” she said, her heart melting. All the bad things she had thought about him while washing diapers left her in an instant.
This
was what she would be missing if she followed in Emma’s footsteps.

I’ll just enjoy my cousins,
she told herself, yet the words left an emptiness in her heart. She pushed the thought away as baby Jonathon puckered up, ready to cry again.

“To Mommy we go,” she said, taking quick steps down the hall before his wailing began again.

Leona’s face lighted up as Rebecca approached with Jonathon. Immediately she set to nursing him. And Jonathon, on his part, calmly forgot about everyone around him and got busy filling his stomach.

“Hungry as a man,” Leona chuckled. “How’s the wash going?”

“About half done,” Rebecca said, quickly calculating the remaining wash loads in her mind.

“Is it too cold to dry them outside?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m so sorry you have to work this hard today, and with me sick yet. I feel so useless.”

“Your family really needs you.”

“I know.” Leona’s mood seemed to worsen with that statement.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Rebecca said quickly. “They need you to get better.”

“I know what you meant,” Leona was clearly trying to rally her sagging feelings. “It’s just this darkness that hangs over me. It comes down heavy when I’m least expecting it. I shouldn’t let it bother me. I’m so sorry.”

“You have to rest,” Rebecca declared, stating the tried and true—and the only thing that seemed to make sense. Then something from her childhood came to mind. “Do you remember what you said about a sunrise when I was a little girl? It meant a lot to me.”

“No, I don’t remember,” Leona said.

“It was a long time ago,” Rebecca said. “I had stayed overnight at your place. You took me out to help chore. You were just newly married then—none of your children had been born. There was a beautiful sunrise that morning.” Rebecca paused, remembering. “The sky was bright with reds and blues, a low bank of clouds hanging right on the edge, orange all over the top in streaks of light.”

Leona was listening.

“You said that mornings were when God liked to show off.”

“What an awful thing to say,” Leona almost gasped.

“No, it wasn’t,” Rebecca said. “It made me think of what a big God He was.”

“It was still awful,” Leona protested, but Rebecca saw the hint of a smile on her face.

“He’s
still
a big God,” Rebecca said, knowing as she said it that she meant it for herself, not just for Leona.

“Even when He doesn’t make sense,” Leona said, her mind grasping at the hope offered. Rebecca thought then that Leona might best be left alone. Some thoughts were best unuttered except to the One who knows those thoughts before they’re said.

“I’ll be going back to the wash,” she said softly.

Leona simply nodded and said, “I’ll put Jonathon down when he’s ready.”

W
ith one more load of wash left to finish, Rebecca stepped back into the house to peek in on Leona. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully in the recliner, with little Jonathon resting awake on a blanket at her feet. His hands were by his side, his face calm, his eyes open, appearing to be lost in his babyhood experience.

Not having eaten lunch, Rebecca was hungry and suspected Leona was too. But sleep was the mother’s more pressing need. Rebecca tiptoed into the living room, and the baby turned her way. She half expected him to cry out, but he didn’t. It was all she could do to keep from picking him up, but Leona seemed to be sleeping yet. She satisfied herself with making a puckered up face in his direction, which she supposed he couldn’t see anyway.

“You can pick him up—I’m not sleeping,” Leona said suddenly, startling her. “Just can’t seem to keep my eyes open.”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Rebecca said quickly. “I tried to come in quietly.”

“I’ve been awake awhile already. It wasn’t you. Just thinking of all the things that need to be done. How’s the wash coming?”

“Looks like one more load to go.”

“Weather holding up?”

“Still warm enough. Things are drying well. Are you hungry?”

A smile played on Leona’s face. “I must say I am. Maybe some more of that soup will do.”

“I’m going to make sandwiches for us,” Rebecca said firmly, heading into the kitchen. “You can decide then whether or not to eat it.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to spoil people?”

“You need taking care of,” Rebecca said, firmness still in her voice.

“Sounding like your mother, are we?” Leona had only tenderness in hers.

“You miss your sister?”

“If you mean do I miss your mother’s bossiness, the answer is
no,
” Leona said in a complaint Rebecca had heard before.

“Oldest children are that way sometimes.” Rebecca came to her mother’s defense. “I get complaints all the time—being the oldest one still at home.”

“I was just thinking,” Leona said with a weak smile, “how thoughtful your mother is, sending you to help me. But then, bossiness aside, she always was like that.”

Rebecca began the sandwiches. She found some slices of cold beef in the refrigerator, paired it with some cheese, and put it all between slices of homemade bread.

Leona’s voice continued from the living room. “I suppose that’s what I miss about growing up. I thought being in a family of ten was a little suffocating at the time, but now it feels…safe, I guess. You look so forward to being away from it and on your own, with your own family and your own house. Then suddenly—you feel alone.”

“You have children,” Rebecca said, trying to be helpful.

“It’s not the same. Even in the midst of ten, you were responsible pretty much for yourself. Now it’s me—and Stephen, of course—but still, just the two of us with so much to do.”

“That’s how Mom feels sometimes,” Rebecca said. “I try to help, but I imagine it’s not the same.”

“No…it isn’t,” Leona agreed. “You’ll see when your time comes.”

“
If
my time comes,” Rebecca said. And since the subject had come up, she decided to ask, “Do you think Emma’s life is lonely?”

“But Emma’s single,” Leona said. “By choice, I suppose. She had chances though.”

Rebecca’s silence must have aroused Leona’s suspicions.

“Rebecca, you’re not thinking of remaining single, are you?”

Rebecca didn’t answer, but because the sandwiches were done, there was nothing left to do but go into the living room.

Leona’s eyes searched Rebecca’s face. “But what about John?”

Rebecca shrugged, smiling at Jonathon. He seemed on the verge of bawling for some reason.

“But you’ve been serious about him for some time. You can’t just change like that.”

“He’s asked me to marry him,” Rebecca said, figuring her aunt might as well know.

“Well, then that settles it.” Leona’s face relaxed. “You scared me for a minute.”

“What’s wrong with Emma’s life?” Rebecca asked.

“Nothing. It’s just not for you.”

“But I’m not married to John yet.”

“You’re promised.”

Rebecca thought for a second and then said, “Promised? Does everyone keep their promises? What if things change after a promise is made? What if I find that I prefer Emma’s life—teaching school and keeping to myself?”

“It’s not like having your own family…and your own man.” Leona was looking worried again. “You’re not thinking about going back on John?”

Rebecca’s silence was all the answer Leona needed.

“Oh, Rebecca! What brought this on? Not being here with us, I hope!”

“No. Something else.”

“You’ve met someone else?”

“No, I haven’t met someone else.” Rebecca couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, and Leona noticed.

Reaching out for one of the sandwiches, Leona motioned to the couch, saying, “Sit down. Eat. Tell me about it.”

“There’s the wash yet to do,” Rebecca protested.

“Then talk fast.”

“I can’t.”

“Just tell me.” Leona glanced at Jonathon, who was puckering up his face to cry. “Just wait, little man. You can’t be hungry yet.” Leona reached down and turned him over onto his stomach. “That better?”

It must have been because Jonathon made no more efforts at crying, his head turned to the side, as he weakly tried to lift it up.

“John can be a little jealous at times,” Rebecca said, remembering John repeatedly questioning her. “And men don’t seem to want to keep their promises,” she added, thinking of Atlee. “It might be better to just stay single.”

“You really want that?” Leona was already halfway through her sandwich.

“That’s just it. I don’t know,” Rebecca said, grinning a little. She bit into her sandwich, chewed, swallowed, and then said, “How
do
I know I shouldn’t stay single?”

“You must leave that to God,” Leona said firmly. “He knows the future. If He wanted you to be single, He wouldn’t have sent you John.”

“Maybe,” Rebecca managed.

“You should be happy,” Leona said. “I’ve never met John, but I’m sure he’s good for you. Your mother would have said something if he wasn’t.”

Rebecca glanced at the clock, and it reminded her of her unfinished duties. “I have to get back to the wash.”

“Finish your sandwich before you go. I’ll just rest again till Jonathon wants his feeding.”

Rebecca nodded, rising quickly. “I’ll eat it on the way.”

“Wake me to help with the folding then, when the laundry is dry.”

Rebecca looked skeptically at her aunt.

“Yes,” Leona replied, nodding firmly, “the girls can help when they come home from school. I’ll do what I can too.”