Mission: Motherhood

It had been a good day, but Caitlyn had to admit that the heat was getting to her. She’d thought New York in the summer was hot, but it was nothing compared to Texas. The heat hadn’t bothered her that much as a kid, but now it was draining every bit of energy.

She pressed a paper cup of iced tea against her forehead, wishing she could just pour the tea over her head, as she watched the twins go around and around on the carousel. She smiled and waved to the girls as they passed her, thinking she and Carolyn had probably ridden those same painted wooden horses a long time ago.

Amanda was waving one arm like a rodeo rider as her palomino went up and down. Next to her, Josie clung to the pole of her stationary horse as if she feared it would throw her.

Worry flickered through her. Her mother felt Josie’s timidity would resolve itself if they left her alone. Mama certainly had more experience than she did in dealing with children, so why did it still tease her, seeming to say she should do something?

The tempo of the carousel music changed, and the horses slowed their movement. The twins were out of her view, their horses now on the far side of the carousel.

Apprehension grabbed her. The carousel was going to stop with the twins about as far from her as they could be. Would they have sense enough to stay put until she reached them? She should have reminded them before the ride had started.

The music tinkled to a stop, and people began to pour off the carousel, even as others started to climb on. She struggled against the crowd of cheerful kids and adults, trying to spot the girls.

It was irrational, wasn’t it, to feel so panicky because they were out of her sight? She couldn’t seem to help it, and she couldn’t get there fast enough.

Finally the crowd cleared, and she hurried past one painted horse after another. There was the palomino Amanda had ridden, with the stationary chestnut beside it. They were both empty.

She turned, searching the immediate area with her gaze. Where were the children? They were her responsibility—she should have gone on the carousel with them. They could be scared—Josie might be crying.

And then she saw them walking toward her. Steve had each one by a hand, and Amanda was clutching a bunch of balloons.

She raced toward them, reaching them and catching both girls in a hug. “Where were you? I was scared when I couldn’t find you.”

Steve grasped her hand warmly. “They’re fine. I’m sorry if they scared you.”

“Scared is the right word.” She took a breath. “What happened? Why didn’t you stay where you were and wait for me to come?”

“I saw a man with balloons.” Amanda’s tone said she knew perfectly well she’d made a mistake and wasn’t going to admit it.

“That’s where I caught up with them,” Steve said. “I happened to walk past the balloon man.”

Caitlyn knelt so that she was eye to eye with the twins. “Listen, guys, you scared me. Don’t ever do that again, okay?”

Amanda’s lower lip came out, but after a moment she nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

Josie nodded, too, looking close to tears.

“Good.” Caitlyn hugged them. Had this been her first parenting success? At least Amanda hadn’t argued. And thanks to Steve, they were safe.

She rose, blinking back a stray tear as she looked at Steve. “Thank you. If you hadn’t seen them before they wandered even farther—”

“They wouldn’t have gone far,” he said comfortingly. He turned to the girls. “Hey, do you know how to make balloon animals?”

They shook their heads solemnly.

“Well, if I can just borrow a balloon, you’ll see.” He took one of the long balloons from Amanda’s hand. “I wonder what I can make.” He twisted the balloon in his hands, frowning a little. Finally he held it out.

“A giraffe.” The twins shouted the word in unison.

He handed it to Josie, and she looked enchanted.

“One for me,” Amanda said quickly. She gave him another balloon. “A giraffe, please.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see how it turns out.” He twisted the balloon in his strong hands, frowning at it intently.

“What’s wrong? Can’t guarantee another giraffe?” Caitlyn asked softly.

He grinned. “I hate to promise what it’s going to be. It usually looks like an animal, but not necessarily what I think it’s going to be.”

Fortunately for all of them, this one turned out enough like a giraffe to make Amanda happy, and the two girls decided to make their giraffes dance together to the music of the carousel.

“You’re a success.” Caitlyn smiled at him. “And we’re lucky you came along when you did.”

“Not so much luck,” Steve said. “I ran into Betty and she asked me to join y’all for dessert and to watch the fireworks. I said I’d round you up.”

“I see.” It seemed she was destined to see Steve wherever she went. As he’d said, it was a small town. “Well, I’m still glad you came when you did. I was starting to panic. I’m beginning to appreciate every gray hair Carolyn and I caused our mother.”

She said it lightly, but judging by Steve’s expression, he wasn’t taking it that way.

“Not easy being a parent, is it?”

“I’m not a parent. I can’t ever take their mother’s place.”

The words came out without her thinking them through, but she realized they were true as soon as she said them. She’d do what she could, but she couldn’t take Carolyn’s place.

Steve stopped, turning to face her. “Is that really what you think?” He was frowning as if he’d taken her measure and found her lacking in some way. “Because that’s what those children need, and you might just have to sacrifice what you want to give it to them.”

Caitlyn could only stare at him in disbelief, as anger welled up in her at his stinging criticism. “I appreciate your interest, Chaplain Steve. But my family life is not really any of your business.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she grabbed the girls’ hands and stalked off in the direction of the picnic grove.

It was all very well to have the last word, Caitlyn decided, but it lost its effect if you had to be with that person for another two hours.

She’d expected Steve to beg off watching the fireworks with them. That’s what she’d have done, if their positions were reversed.

But he hadn’t. He’d come back to the picnic table with them and eaten a slab of Mama’s pecan pie and drunk a glass of lemonade, chatting all the while as if there weren’t a trace of strain between them.

Now, he helped her spread a blanket at the riverbank—the ideal spot, her mother declared, for watching the fireworks.

“Thanks.” She smoothed out a corner and sat down, glancing at the twins running among the blankets with a couple of friends, each one waving a flag or a glow stick. “Here’s a spot for you, Mama.” She patted the space next to her.

Her mother shook her head. “I was just talking to Maisie Elliot, and she’s going on home now. I think maybe I’ll ride along with her. I’m just a mite tired.”

“Mama, if you’re tired, we can go home now. We don’t have to stay for the fireworks.” She started to get up, but her mother was already shaking her head again.

“No, no, the girls would be so disappointed. You know how they’ve been looking forward to staying up for the fireworks. Y’all stay. Steve will keep you company, I know.”

“I don’t think—”