16
“Good heavens look at all these choices. Cotton Candy, Pale Peony, Strawberry Ice Cream. And they’ve even got paint that children can write on, like a chalk board,” Clara marveled, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. “Back in the day pink was simply pink. And white was white.”
“I know it’s a little overwhelming. But we have to stay focused,” Dalton reminded her. “I’d like to get the nursery painted this weekend. Now, which of these colors do you think the baby would like best?”
It had taken Dalton a full week to get the nursery emptied and the holes in the plaster filled and sanded. Harper had instructed him to choose some paint in a nice shade of pink. With she and Nicky working the Firefly Festival, he’d enlisted Clara’s help to accompany him to the paint store and help him choose the right shade. After much deliberation they settled on Pink Peppermint for the walls and Pearl White for the trim and wainscoting.
When they’d finally selected a semi-gloss paint and given their chips to the paint tech to be mixed, Clara said she wanted to pop next door to the printer’s.
“I’ve got to see about the party invitations,” she said. “The big day will be here before we know it.”
“Sure, we’ll get this mixed and then I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary, dear. I can find my way next door. And besides, I want the invitations to be a surprise.”
Dalton chuckled. “OK, mystery lady. I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes then.”
Far from forgetting about the party, as he’d thought she would, it seemed that Clara had become obsessed with it. She spent much of her time writing notes and making secret phone calls. He had never seen her so purpose driven and focused. And while he was glad the preparations made her happy, he hoped she was not overdoing it all. She’d promised Harper she would keep it simple.
Twenty minutes later, as he stowed the paint cans and drop cloths he’d bought in the car, Clara emerged from the print shop, a grin on her face. “I got the invitations all ordered and thank goodness they’ll arrive in just a few days. That will give me plenty of time to get them addressed and mailed.”
“We could have just handed them out at church, Clara. It might have been easier for you.”
“I don’t mind a little work, dear. I want everything to be perfect.”
“I have a feeling this will be quite the tea party.”
She smiled her mischievous smile again, not answering.
Back home, he spread out the tarps in the nursery, taped off the wainscoting, and he and Clara got started. He cut in the corners while she went to work on the window trim.
As he rolled on the first coat of primer, the room looked instantly brighter.
“This is long overdue,” Clara said. “It’ll be so bright and pretty.”
“Let’s hope so. This orange though,” he teased.
She chuckled. “This room has had as many purposes as it’s had colors. For the longest time it was my crafting room, painted a sunny yellow. Then it was a lavender playroom, for Harper’s little tea parties. Before it became a storage room, it was Nicholas’ club house, back when he and his friends were in their tiger phase.”
“That explains a few things,” Dalton said, rolling on another coat of primer. He whistled as he worked. It felt good to be doing something concrete to welcome Harper’s child.
His child.
The thought filled him with wonder, followed by a tinge of sadness as a memory surfaced.
“You’re mad now.”
“I’m not mad.”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to start a family, Tasha. I’m just saying I’m not sure that now is the time. The ink is barely dry on our marriage license. Why don’t we wait a couple of years until we’re more settled. Then we’ll start trying.”
“I’m settled now. And I thought you were, too.”
“Yes, we’re both settled, that’s not what I meant.”
“I feel like if we wait, we’ll run out of time.”
“Come on, Tash. We’ve got our whole lives…”
But in Tasha’s case, that hadn’t amounted to any time at all.
He drew in a breath and released it, remembering a Bible verse he’d heard on a podcast earlier that morning. From the book of Isaiah. “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”
He didn’t fully understand the implications, but even so he took comfort in the words. A new thing. Lord, he needed that.
After a break for lunch, Clara retreated to her bedroom, saying she had to look for something, and Dalton applied the first coat of pink paint to the top of the walls. When all four of them were finished he stood back and surveyed his work. It seemed to him the soft wash of pink would be soothing for a baby. Satisfied, he opened the windows to air out the paint fumes and headed downstairs to clean his roller and brushes before Harper returned from the festival.
“It took some doing, but I found it!” Clara declared, appearing in the doorway.
“What did you find?”
Beaming, she thrust a plastic shopping bag at him. “This!”
Opening the bag, he took out a small counted cross-stitched sampler. Harper’s name and birth date were stitched in pink, surrounded by a flock of fluffy lambs.
“Mandy made that when she was pregnant with Harper,” Clara told him. “Isn’t it the sweetest thing?”
“It is,” he agreed. And it was. The glass had cracked, and a corner of the frame was broken, but holding the sampler, he could almost feel love radiating from it.
“It hung in Harper’s bedroom until Mandy redecorated it in a princess theme for Harper when she was pregnant with Nicholas. A “big girl” room. You see, Harper was quite jealous of the new baby on the way and Mandy wanted to do something special for her.” She sighed. “After Mandy passed away, I helped Dallas pack up her things. I tucked this away for Harper and completely forgot about it. Do you think we could make a spot for it in the new baby’s nursery?”
He was touched by Clara’s thoughtfulness, amazed at the clarity with which the past lived in her failing memory.
“I think that would be perfect, Clara. I’ll go to the store later this week and pick up a new frame and a mat that matches the paint color.”
“And then I’ll get busy and make one like it for the new baby.”
“I’m sure Harper would love that.”
She smiled. “Remind me after the party.”
~*~
That year’s Firefly Festival yielded the same crowds and frantic activity as any other year. The festival had not changed. But Harper had. She found herself paying close attention to the children and the way they interacted with their parents. She took in both the sweet, gurgling babies and the ones whose wailing cries pierced the atmosphere, the toddlers, from the shy to the sunny to the unruly. She knew that genetically speaking her daughter could go either way. Would she be calm and laid back like Bo, or stubborn and competitive, like her?
But was it genetics or parenting that made the difference between a lamb and a bully? Between a cherub and a brat? How did a parent go about enforcing the rules without being a control freak, conveying their values without squashing a child’s individuality? These were the questions that filled her thoughts lately.
Earlier that day a little boy, no doubt hopped up on sugar and the excitement of the rides and games had a meltdown at the counter of her food truck. When his father ordered him a bottle of water instead of the cola the boy asked for, he retaliated by smashing a pile of ketchup packets on the counter, spraying sticky red splatters onto the ceiling and walls, and on Finley’s apron. Finley had received an apology from the boy after the father had taken him aside to lecture him on proper behavior towards others.
How would Harper handle something like that?
How would Dalton?
Dalton…
She smiled. How could God have given her such an incredible gift? It amazed her that in such a short time she’d gone from living in fear and aloneness to the comfort of having a partner. A soul mate. It sounded cliché, but that’s exactly what she and Dalton were.
He’d spent days working on the nursery. She’d smelled the paint behind the closed door, but he would not let her see the room until it was finished. After their misunderstanding it seemed that Dalton was working extra hard to prove himself to her, but it wasn’t necessary. She trusted him completely. She loved him utterly. She would marry him tomorrow if he asked. But he had not asked…