“Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.”

Charlie Chaplin

Late November 1954

Sweet Grove, Texas

Mrs. Avery wrapped the baby in a blanket, his little mouth open as he wailed, his face the shade of a beet. Laura had sworn she’d rather die than give birth in a hospital, so Mrs. Avery had offered to come out of retirement and be the midwife. She had scoffed at Joey’s request to help.

“I’ve seen more blood and guts than you can imagine, beg your pardon, ma’am. But it’d take a lot to make me queasy.” He’d folded his arms over his chest and dug in his heels. “I missed the first delivery, and you can’t keep me from the second.”

“Well, it’s very irregular but I’ll make an exception.” The silver-haired lady winked a twinkly green eye and patted him on the cheek as if he were Leroy’s age. “But you’ll need some training first.”

Laura looked at the tiny face and searched deep for some kind of happiness. But her heart was empty. She had no more strength. Her mother told her it would get easier, the loss more manageable. She would begin to feel again. And Mom had been right. There was a weight on her soul, crushing it, squeezing it, wringing out every last drop of emotion, so she’d never have to feel such sorrow or loss again. And that was fine with her.

Mrs. Avery brought her the baby. “He looks healthy for coming three weeks early. What are we naming him?”

“Joseph Evan McCall,” Joey said in wonder, and she remembered that same feeling one long ago October. Good, Joe Jr. would need his father. She rolled over, avoiding the shock on the thin woman’s face when she didn’t take the baby. “Joey, please feed him. I need to sleep.”

As she drifted off, she could hear the hushed whispers—some low, some frantic. They were talking about her. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Three weeks later

A sharp knock on the door brought her awake. “Laura, are you sleeping?” Max called from the other side.

“Not now.”

He pushed open the door with his foot, a tray of toast and coffee in his hands. She gave him a rare smile. “We got out of that routine, didn’t we?”

Max nodded. “Time to get back to normal around here. Besides, Christmas is right around the corner. We can’t put the tree up or string popcorn without you. ”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage. I’m not feeling very festive these days.”

“Well, I can understand that. But Leroy won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” He pulled up a chair and rearranged her pillows so she could sit up and drink. “I made your favorite cinnamon sugar toast.”

He handed her the plate. She nibbled instead of talking, taking an occasional sip of coffee and waiting for her father-in-law to start the conversation. It didn’t take long.

“Joey Jr. sure has a set of lungs on him. Did you hear him last night? I thought he’d wake up the neighbors for sure.” He grinned. “My son doesn’t have the same touch as you.”

“He’s doing fine.” She nibbled at the crust, taking every last crumb of sugar off the edge. “He wants to help. In fact, I think I’ll start looking for a job next week.”

The cup clattered against the saucer. “A job?”

“Yes, Max. I am trained secretary, remember? I think it’s time I did something outside the house. My mother said she would watch the baby.”

She saw the disapproval in his eyes for both the job and continuing to call her son “the baby.”

“Sweetheart, things can’t go on like this. Joe’s exhausted taking care of JJ at night and working at the shop during the day. The boy needs his Momma. It’s not natural—”

“It wasn’t natural for Lizzie to die! It’s not natural to hold a child to you breast knowing he could go the same way.” Laura closed her eyes and took a breath. Another deep breath. Stay calm and numb. It was the only way. “I’m sorry if I’ve put you out. He’ll start sleeping through the night soon. I’m doing the best I can.”

“Well, I guess I’ll start taking turns with my grandson. I’ll pick up another crib for my room and help out then.” He walked to the door; his shoulders slumped. Without looking back, he said hoarsely, “I sure wish Laura Beth would come back to us. We miss her something awful.”

* * *

“You have a visitor, Laura.” Max stuck his head in the kitchen. “The pastor is here to see you.”

She shook her head. “No, I won’t talk to him. Tell him I’m busy. Tell him I’m not up to it.”

Her mother appeared next to Max. “We’ll tell him no such thing. Now get dressed, comb your hair, and come into the living room. Your father is waiting too.” The tone was unmistakable. Shirley was calling rank with her daughter.

“Daddy is with the pastor?”

“I know, it’s a miracle. I told Joe if I could get my husband in the same room as a godly man, I could certainly get you there. Now, go!” She shooshed her daughter down the hall.

Laura groaned as she ran a comb through her hair and put on a blouse and jeans. She looked under the bed for her sneakers and then stuck with the slippers out of defiance. She froze at the reflection in the mirror. The dark circles made her eyes look bruised. Her cheeks were hollow, and her hair limp and dull. No wonder they looked at her with such horror.

In the living room, her father sat on the edge of the couch as if ready to bolt. When his eyes lifted to her face, she saw the shock as he took in her appearance. Embarrassment stained her cheeks, adding a little color.

Pastor Hall stood to greet her. “Laura, we’ve missed you at church.”

She nodded but her eyes darted to the door. There stood Joey, blocking any escape. He put an arm around her, and they both sat on the sofa. Her parents and the pastor sat opposite and Max took the far chair. It was an ambush. Resentment sprouted and swelled inside her.

“We were hoping you would come back and sing in the choir this Sunday. I don’t believe you’ve visited us since October, except for the…”

“The funeral? Yes, that was my last talk with God. It seems he doesn’t listen anymore, so I’ve given up on the one-way conversations.”

Her mother gasped at the words and tone of disrespect. A momentary wave of guilt rushed her and then vanished.

“We thought the minister could offer you some comfort, perhaps pray with you.”

“I told you, I’m done with prayer.”

“Now Laura,” her father began in his most placating tone. “You have a son and responsibilities—”

“How dare you! How dare you talk of responsibilities when it comes to children. You didn’t speak to me for months. And now you preach to me about being a parent?”

The room grew silent. Pastor Hall cleared his throat. “Could Laura and I have a few moments in private?”

With murmurs of agreement and shuffling feet, the room cleared. She put her elbows on her knees and rested her forehead in her hands. “I am so tired. Just so tired.”

“I know. And God has deserted you, of course.”

She looked up to see if he mocked her, but his expression was sincere.

“We all experience a loss or event in our life that makes us doubt our faith. Believe it or not, it’s quite natural. Makes us wonder how there could possibly be a God if he let these things happen.” He smiled sadly. “You are not the first and won’t be the last to feel forsaken.”

“I’ve tried to be a good person, to do the right thing, to think of others first. I dug deep inside myself to understand and forgive my father. I took on the pain of all three McCalls when Dixie left us. I remained steadfast when Joey was sent to Korea.” She gripped her knees and hissed at the minister. “But this is too much. I can’t accept this.”

“Laura, do you remember the story of Job?”

She nodded. “Yes. He was tested over and over. But he had never given up anything before. It’s not the same.”

“A test of faith is never easy, regardless of your past. But let’s look at why you have given up. I have known you for ten years. Your heart is full of love, and I can’t believe it has dried up so quickly.”

She leaned back, staring at the ceiling and wondering which was worse: constant tears or this emptiness. “If I love again, I’ll hurt again. He’ll die too, you know. And I can’t, I just can’t do it one more time.”

To her surprise, Pastor Hall chuckled. “Oh, Laura Beth. Of course you can. That’s what life is all about. Loving, hurting, falling down, getting back up. Tell me, would you have given up your friendship with Dixie if you had known she would die?”

Outrage stole her breath. “Ah! How… How could you ask me that?”

“You insist you can never love again because you can’t risk the pain. But think of all you risk by not loving again.” He left her with those words of supposed wisdom. A tiny seed planted in the far corners of her mind.

To get rid of her parents, she promised both of them they would start the Sunday barbecues again. She couldn’t continue to punish the rest of the family. There had been so much joy in those weekly afternoons.

When Joey said he had to get some yard work done, Laura took a deep breath and told him to go on. Surprise and then pride flitted across his face.

He cupped her face with one hand and gave her a light kiss on the lips. The touch was almost a whisper but held so much passion. Her heart shrunk back, terrified again of the other extreme. Joey sensed it and backed off. “Leroy, come in here and help Laura.”

He came running in from the kitchen. “Pa went back to the shop for the afternoon, and I need to get some yard work done. The Walters are coming over for steak on Sunday.”

“Yipe-e-e-e.” Leroy jumped up, both arms in the air. “It’s about time we got that party started again.”

“You and your parties, boy. I need you to help Laura with JJ while I mow the lawn. Stay in the house in case she calls for you.”

“Roger Dodger!”

Laura watched him walk away, the t-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders. A stirring in her belly brought back memories of a happier time. Maybe… The baby—no, Joe Jr—was sleeping, so it was no hardship to agree to watch over him. She went into the kitchen and made some sweet tea. As she was putting the pitcher in the refrigerator, the first cry reached her ears.

She walked into the bedroom, leaned over the crib, studying her son. He was blonde and blue-eyed where Lizzie had been dark. He was fussy and loud where Lizzie had been relaxed and quiet. He was alive…but for how long?

Laura turned her back and leaned against the railing. I can’t do this. I can’t do it. “Leroy! Leroy, come here please.”

The nine year old skidded into the bedroom. “I’m here, Beth. Watcha need?”

“Could you pick up the baby and check his diaper, please?”

“Sure!” Leroy pulled the baby up and held him close. “I’ve been practicing with Pa. We’re getting pretty good at baby stuff.” Holding JJ up, he sniffed his backside. “Nothin’ disgusting, so he’s just wet.”

“Have you changed a diaper before?”

“Sure, sort of. Pa and I do it together, but I can manage by myself. I’m an uncle, ya know.” He carefully laid JJ on the changing table, and Laura sat on the bed.

She listened to her brother-in-law talk nonsense to his nephew, goo-goos and ga-gas. Then a tickle that made Leroy laugh instead of the baby. Laura was surprised at how well he folded over and pinned the first side of the diaper. As he tackled the second pin, it dropped to the floor.

“Hold on there, fella,” he said as he bent to pick it up. His foot accidentally caught the end of the pin and sent it flying under the table. He got down on his knees to retrieve it.

Laura looked up to see JJ on the very edge of the table. He squealed and gave a big kick, sending his little body toppling off the table. Without thought, she jumped toward the baby and caught him, both of them falling onto Leroy. Holding JJ tight, she yelled, “How could you let him go like that? He might have cracked his head open!”

“I’m sorry, Beth.” Tears welled in his eyes, and the boy let out a sob. “I was just gettin’ the pin. I didn’t know.”

She clutched JJ to her breast, and then pulled Leroy close. “Oh Leroy, I didn’t mean to yell. It just scared me. Mommas get scared for their babies, that’s all.” He nodded his head and wiped at his tears.

But JJ was quiet now. His head fit under her chin as if he were the missing puzzle piece. His mouth open and closed against her chest, seeking and hungry. She closed her eyes, petrified of the fluttering in her heart. When Laura held him up, he smiled at her, kicking his little feet. Something inside her cracked. And then something like warm maple syrup spilled through her.

“I’ll take him for you now, Beth.” Leroy pulled on the baby and something snapped inside her.

“No, I’ve got him.” She clung to the child, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as he rocked him. “I’m so sorry, JJ. I’m so sorry. Momma loves you. Momma loves you.” Now that she held him, felt that warm life against her breast, she realized could never willingly let him go. Never.

“Laura Beth?” Joey stood in the doorway. “What happened?”

She shook her head, afraid to release her grip on the baby, on life. “I’m not a monster. Really I’m not. I just…”

Joey was next to her, holding them both. “I know you’re not, sweetheart. You just needed time.”

“I was so afraid of the pain, but I’d miss all the joy. How could I forget about the joy? Please forgive me.”

He wiped her wet cheeks. “Aw, darlin’, can you forgive me? You’ve been our rock since Mama passed. And when it was my turn, there was nothing I could do to ease your grief.” He kissed the top of her head. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me, for being patient. For being my Joey and waiting for me to come back.” This time happy tears streaked her face. She breathed in the scent of baby powder and lotion, and it filled her with hope. It would be sad this Christmas without their daughter. But they had JJ, and he deserved every bit as much love as Lizzie.

“I hate to mess up a mushy moment,” Leroy said, his neck bright red. “But he’s only got half a diaper on. You might get real wet in a minute.”