had wanted to go to him, to kiss each red spot gently, tenderly. “Just until they find another foster home for him, Claire,” Jonathan said with no conviction. “Do you understand? Nothing long-term. No way. I can’t do it.” He shook his head as if still bewildered. “I can’t do Ella all over again. I can’t get attached to a child once more, just to have him taken away in the end. That’s the whole point of foster care, to get the kids back to their parents.”
“Me, either,” Claire had whispered. “I can’t do Ella over again, either.” But somehow Claire knew this mother wouldn’t be coming back, wouldn’t take this little boy away from them. God couldn’t be so cruel, not after all that has happened.
A year earlier, a dead infant was found in a frozen cornfield on the other side of the state. After that, the Iowa state legislature had quickly passed a Safe Haven law, allowing mothers to drop off their newborns under two weeks old at hospitals, police or fire stations without fear of prosecution for abandonment. The doctors figured that this baby was about a month old, and for one brief moment, Claire worried that the police would find the mother who had abandoned him. She quickly brushed away her fears. This little boy, the little boy they would take home, would be the first baby left at a Safe Haven site. He would be theirs.
When Dana set Joshua in Claire’s arms, it was as if she was healed. As if all the miscarriages, the surgery, had never happened. The pain, the loss, became a faint memory. This was what they had waited for all these years. This beautiful, perfect little boy.
On the way home from the hospital they stopped to pick up a few necessities. Diapers, bottles, formula. As an afterthought, Claire grabbed a book filled with baby names. Finally, finally, she would be able to name a child. The book listed each name alphabetically, followed by the name’s origin and meaning. This child’s name, Claire decided, needed to have a special meaning. Since she didn’t give him the gift of birth, she would give him his name and it would mean something.
Claire liked the name Cade, but it meant round or lumpy. Jonathan liked that the name Saul meant prayed for. That was a possibility; they had been praying for this for years. The name Holmes meant safe haven, but Jonathan thought it sounded kind of stuffy and had images of kids calling him Sherlock. Claire flipped through a few more pages and her eyes fell on the name Joshua. Saved by God. “Joshua,” she said out loud, weighing the word on her tongue, feeling it on her lips. Claire smiled at Jonathan and turned in her seat to look back at the baby who would become her son. “Joshua,” she repeated, a little louder and at that moment, in sleep, he breathed a gentle, whispery sigh. Content. Safe. Saved.
Charm
Ever since she started her nursing practicum hours at St. Isadore’s, not a day goes by that Charm doesn’t think about the baby. Even though she knows he is well cared for and loved, she can’t walk by the yellow Safe Haven signs in the hospital without remembering both the sadness and the relief she felt after giving him up, although he wasn’t just hers to give away. In all honesty, she feels mostly relief. If she hadn’t taken him to the fire station, she probably would never have been able to manage to finish high school, let alone go to college. And Charm is convinced that her mother would have somehow found a way to ruin that baby’s life.
Charm rushes down a street lined with the venerable brick buildings that make up St. Anne’s campus. The small, private college sits in the middle of Linden Falls and is surrounded by historical homes and cobblestone streets that are beginning to crumble. Out of breath, she joins a group of students walking to their Leadership and Contemporary Issues in Nursing class. Sophie, a tall, gangly girl who wants to work in pediatric oncology, is in the midst of insisting that she has a psychic link with her mother.
“Seriously,” Sophie says as they enter the classroom, “I can just be thinking of my mother and she’ll call me a minute later.”
“No way.” Charm snorts. “I don’t believe you.” Charm looks at her classmates for support but they are all smiling knowingly, nodding their heads and saying things like, “It’s true, I’ve got that with my sister.”
“Try it,” Charm tells her, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.
“Okay.” Sophie shrugs her shoulders and digs into her purse, pulls out her cell phone and sets it on the desk in front of her.
“Now what?” Charm asks.
“Nothing, we just wait. She’ll call in the next minute or so,” she explains.
Charm shakes her head in disbelief but in a matter of minutes Sophie’s phone begins to vibrate, doing a little dance across the table. Sophie picks up the phone and shows everyone the display screen. Mom.
“Hey, Mom,” Sophie says into the phone. “I was just thinking of you.” She smiles in triumph at Charm.
Charm is impressed but saddened, too. She can recall no one with whom she has such a profound connection. Certainly not her mother. Reanne always needs to be the center of attention. Charm was never enough for her, her brother wasn’t enough, Gus wasn’t enough. Reanne Tullia was always on the search for something better, more exciting. Charm has no idea where her brother is and her father could be dead for all she knew. Charm did have a boyfriend last year who called her all the time, but that had more to do with his crazy insecurity than any supernatural bond.
Gus, she thinks. She may have that bond with Gus. He’s the one who taught her to ride a bike, how to multiply fractions, the one who sat in the audience and blinked back tears when she walked across the stage to receive her high school diploma.
Everything Charm has learned about being a good parent, a good person, she learned from Gus. One thing she knows for certain, when she gets married and has children, she will be there, day in and day out. She won’t leave when things get hard or sad or just plain boring.
That’s something her mother or her brother never learned.
Brynn
It’s my first class of the term and even though I know all my teachers and most of my classmates, I’m nervous. A familiar feeling creeps into my chest like thick dust rising and settling on my breastbone. I try to take big, deep breaths, like Dr. Morris said I should, and it does help.
I’m looking forward to my classes this semester; I’m taking Animals in Society and Humane Education with Companion Animals. I also get to do an internship off campus. Since I already volunteer at the animal shelter, I think I’m going to request that I get to work on a horse farm. I’ve never ridden a horse, but I’ve read that horses have been used to help people who have behavior problems, eating disorders, even autism. Despite what most people think, horses are incredibly intelligent. In the late 1800s there was a horse named Beautiful Jim Key who traveled the country with his trainer, Dr. William Key. Beautiful Jim Key could identify different coins and use a cash register to ring up amounts and give the correct change. He could also spell, tell time and was said to have the IQ of a sixth grader. I don’t know if that is actually true, but I’d like to think so.
I hear my cell phone vibrate and I dig around in my purse to find it. For a second I think Allison has gotten my cell phone number from someone, but I haven’t even given it to our parents and I know Grandma wouldn’t have given it to her. I smile as I look at the display. It’s my friend Missy. I flip open the phone and bring it to my ear. “Hi, Missy, what’s up?”
“Party tonight, my place, eight o’clock,” Missy says.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask as I pull my car into a spot
