A Test of Faith (6 page)

Jared took her hand and held it, the solid feel of his touch a comfort beyond words. “You’re different in some ways, hon. But you’re the same in other ways.”

She peered at him, holding back a snort. “Such as?”

“Well, you both love holding hands when we pray at mealtimes, singing silly songs, and parties and holidays.” He
weaved his fingers through hers. “I swear I’ve never seen two girls who love celebrating as much as Faith and you do.”

Anne smiled at that. “I got that from my mother. She used to do such special things. It always made her so happy to surprise me …”

When she fell silent, Jared studied her. “What?”

Anne almost couldn’t contain the sudden excitement that scurried through her. “Jared, that’s it!”

He blinked. “What’s it?”

It was perfect. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? “It happened when I was about Faith’s age.”

“
What
did?”

Anne jumped up and threw her arms around her husband. “Oh, honey! You’re a genius!”

With that, she gathered up her tea and started for her room to plan.

“Annie? Hon?”

She stopped and turned back to Jared.

“Will you let me know one of these days what I did that was so wonderful?”

The look on his face was so comical, Anne giggled. “I’m sorry, Jared. I got so excited.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

She couldn’t hold back a grin. “It’ll be perfect.”

“What will?”

“She’ll love it.”

Jared’s brow furrowed. “Love … what?” He pushed back his chair and put a gentle hand on her arm. “Hon, before you get all excited, remember Faith doesn’t always like the things you do.”

“Yes, but—”

“She hated the frilly dress and hat you bought for her last Easter—”

“I know—”

“And the ballet class for tots was clearly a mistake.”

Anne crossed her arms. “That instructor overreacted. Threatening to get a restraining order if we ever brought Faith back.” She sniffed her disdain. “Faith’s a creative child. Just
because she thought it was more fun to pretend she was Bruce Lee than a flower …”

“She
did
knock down three of her fellow ‘daisies,’ hon.”

“Yes, well—”

“And stomped on their little construction-paper petals.”

Anne lifted her shoulders, conceding defeat. “Okay. So Faith wasn’t ready for ballet. But I’m sure Faith will love this!”

“It’s just … I don’t want you to be disappointed, Annie.”

Disappointed? No chance. She patted Jared’s arm. “Not to worry. Not this time. I know she’ll love it. What little girl wouldn’t?”

“Maybe
our
little girl?”

Anne understood his need to say it, but she waved off his concern. “It’ll be wonderful.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “And you get to take all the credit!”

She turned and all but floated out the door. Nothing he said would discourage her. Not even the dubious reply he tossed after her.

“Or the blame.”

five

EVERYTHING WAS READY. ANNE HAD BEEN WORKING
on it for weeks, scanning magazines for the perfect setup. She’d finally found an article showing the first lady, Betty Ford herself, holding an event almost identical to what Anne wanted to do. If that wasn’t proof it was a good idea, Anne would be a monkey’s uncle. Er, aunt. Whatever.

It was the perfect time of year, too. Few places were as beautiful as Southern Oregon in the late spring. Flowers were bursting to life, filling the yard with color and the air with sweet fragrances. Anne had even called the time and weather number to check the forecast. Sunshine. Highs in the seventies. A light breeze. Perfect for sitting out on the patio, looking out at the mountains surrounding the valley where they lived.

It was as though everything, nature included, was falling in line to make this day as special as possible for Anne and her little girl.

The night before the big event, she had been like a kid on Christmas Eve. Instead of falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, Anne lay there, staring at the ceiling, savoring the anticipation,
picturing the delight on her daughter’s face.

On Faith’s face or yours?

Anne frowned. Well, both, of course.

Do you really think Faith will be pleased? Isn’t this more something you would like?

Anne rolled over and punched her pillow. That was ridiculous. What little girl wouldn’t like what Anne had planned?

Your little girl
.

This time she pulled the pillow over her head. She would not listen to this voice of doubt. Everything would work out the way she’d planned.

Early the next morning, Anne pushed away her fatigue and went to wake Faith with a kiss. “Mornin’, sleepyhead.” She sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed. “Did you know today is a special day?”

Faith blinked up at her and yawned, stretching her child arms up over her head. “Is it Christmas?”

“No—”

She sat up. “My birthday?”

“No, honey.”

Faith stood, now fully awake, and started bouncing on the bed. “Your birthday?”

“Faith!”

The little girl plopped back on the bed and fell silent. Anne drew a steadying breath.

“
Do not exasperate your children
…” Anne hesitated. That’s what she’d done. She came in, woke Faith up, and got her all excited. And now she got irritated at Faith for reacting like any child would.

Anne looked at the smiling bears on Faith’s bedspread. Why was it Anne could be so patient with others, but when it came to her own daughter, she seemed primed for frustration?

Sorry, Lord. Please, help me to do better
.

“Mommy?”

Faith crawled over to sit next to her, and Anne drew her daughter close. “Yes, honey?”

“What’s special about today?”

Anne smiled at her little girl’s wide-eyed expression.
Emotions swelled in Anne’s throat, and she had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak. How she loved this child! Yes, Faith might drive her to distraction at times, but Anne loved her more than she could ever express. “Well, we’re going to do something special. Something my mommy did with me with I was your age.”

“What?”

“It’s a surprise, but I’ll show you part of it.” She went to pick up the gift she’d left outside the door. She hid it behind her back, then returned to sit on Faith’s bed again. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Faith complied, though the bouncing resumed. Anne pulled the gift from behind her back and let herself take another look at it. It was the most exquisite doll she’d ever seen. The porcelain face was perfection, with its deep blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and plump pink lips. Long blonde curls held back with a blue ribbon cascaded over the doll’s shoulders. She was dressed in a beautiful deep blue dress adorned with tiny roses, lace, and ribbons. Her little feet sported patent leather shoes, complete with a shiny buckle.

Anne held the doll carefully and set her in Faith’s outstretched hands. The little girl’s bounces doubled.

“Can I look now?”

“Go ahead.”

Faith’s eyes popped open. Anne waited for the smile to fill her daughter’s features.

And waited.

And waited.

Faith stared at the doll, then looked up at her mother. “Is it for you?”

For a moment, all the doubts that had nudged Anne last night surged back to haunt her. But she pushed them away and mustered up a smile. “No, honey, she’s for you.”

Faith looked at the doll. “Oh.”

That one word spoke volumes.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed, Annie.”

She watched Faith stick out a finger to poke at the frilly dress, then pull on the long locks of golden hair. Anne swallowed.
What was tightening her throat? Not disappointment. Never, in a million years, would she admit it was that.

She leaned forward to touch first the doll’s cheek, then Faith’s. “This isn’t just any doll, sweetie. It’s your own special tea-party doll.”

Faith’s brow furrowed. “Tea party?”

Anne infused her tone with excitement. “That’s right. We’re going to have a tea party. You and me and your new doll. With special cups and sandwiches like when I was little.”

“Do we
have
to drink tea?”

Anne recognized the emotion choking her now. Frustration had an all-too-familiar flavor. “You’ll like it.”

“Can I have milk and honey in it?”

She sighed. “Yes, of course. It’s all set. All you have to do is get dressed.”

Faith set the doll down and slid from the bed, going to pick up her jeans from the floor.

“No, honey.” Anne went to Faith’s closet and lifted out the dress she’d put in there last night. A dress that matched the one the doll wore. She’d shopped for hours to find it. “This is a dress-up party. Here.” She held out the dress, watching for the awe to fill Faith’s features at the elegant garment.

Faith’s nose crinkled as though she caught a whiff of some dead, rotted creature, and she looked up at her mother. Before her daughter could voice the objection Anne saw building, she knelt in front of Faith and held the dress up against her.

“You’ll look like a princess, honey.”

The “princess” glared down at the offending garment. “Don’t wanna be a princess. Wanna be a tiger catcher.”

Dread sat on Anne’s chest, weighing it down, making it hard to breathe.
I was wrong. Oh, Lord, I was wrong…

But she couldn’t stop now. Surely, once they were sitting at the table having their tea, Faith would see what a special event this was. “Try it, okay? It’s really going to be fun.”

She did her best to keep her tone light, but even she could hear the hurt resonating behind the words. Faith shrugged and took the dress. Before she could change her mind, Anne helped her daughter slip out of her pajamas and into the folds
of the dress. New socks and patent leather shoes followed.

It took all of Anne’s patience, but she managed to ignore Faith’s squirming and complaining as she dressed her daughter and brushed out her hair. A velvet ribbon in Faith’s hair was the crowning glory.

Anne stood back and studied her little girl. Faith did, indeed, look like a princess. “Okay, now you wait here, honey, while I go get the camera!”

Faith didn’t say anything, stubbed the black toe of her shoe into the carpet. Minutes later, Anne gave a deep sigh. Faith was beautiful. Dressed this way, with her glossy auburn hair cascading down her back, she was a vision suited to the cover of any magazine.

Or she would be, if not for her expression. The scowl creasing Faith’s features was far more suited to a Most Wanted poster than to the cover of a magazine.

Unless, of course, it was a horror magazine.

“Please, Faith. One smile?”

“I wanna go outside and play.”

“But we’re almost ready for our t—”

“Wanna go outside, Mommy. Please?”

“Faith.”

“Pleeeeaaaasssssse?”

Anne surrendered.
If you can’t fight ’em…
“Okay, Faith. Give me one smile. A
nice
one—” she hurried to add, knowing her child’s propensity to ruin any picture with crossed eyes and a tongue hanging out of a goofy grin—“and you can go outside until the party is ready to start.”

With that, Faith’s scowl melted into a smile that was the very image of innocent beauty. Anne snapped the shot, breathing another sigh as her daughter bounded toward the door.

“Be careful of your dress, honey. You promise?”

Faith turned wide eyes back to her mother, giving one solemn nod.

A smile twitched at Anne’s mouth. “Cross your heart?”

Faith’s eyes sparkled. She loved the cross-my-heart rhyme—though her version was a bit different than most.

“Cross my heart ‘n’ hope to fly, stick a dweeble in my eye.”

Anne held her laughter captive. Leave it to her little girl to rewrite an ages-old pledge. But Faith meant the words sincerely, and Anne didn’t want her daughter to think she was making fun of her. “Okay, honey. Have fun.”

In a heartbeat, the little girl scampered out of the room, down the stairs, and out the back door, her new doll tucked under her arm like a football.

Anne followed more slowly, shaking her head. “Mom, was I ever this much work?” She set the camera on the shelf and made her way to the kitchen. “If I was, I really wish you were still alive—” she lifted the teakettle and poured steaming water into the silver teapot—“so I could apologize.”

She flicked the lid of the pot closed, the silvery
clang
ringing in her ears. She set the pot on the tray and added the creamer and a small silver bowl with tea bags. Lifting the tray, she carried it to the table, pausing a moment to take in the picture-perfect scene before her.

Her mother’s Irish linen tablecloth flowed over the table in a wave of rose-embossed ivory. Delicate cloth napkins captured in rose napkin holders stood guard over the china plates and newly polished silver. A bouquet of fresh flowers sat in the middle of the table, a splash of playful color in the midst of elegance. A silver three-tiered tray held elegantly, decorated sugar cubes, tiny finger sandwiches, and an assortment of luscious cookies she’d bought from the gourmet shop. The mere sight of it all made Anne’s mouth water.