“Right,” Amy said and rattled it off for him, repeating it once to make sure he’d input it into his phone correctly.
“I’ll email you once I have the information from Laurel and Violet.” He slid the phone back into his pocket. “I think Isabella’s grandparents might fly in for her birthday. My folks won’t likely come since we were just there, but we’ll see.”
Amy finished wiping down the counters while Violet and Laurel talked with Will about Delia’s parents. She wondered if they found comfort in how much Isabella looked like their daughter. And if they knew how much Delia had struggled with her pregnancy. Amy shared almosteverything with her mom, but she knew that wasn’t always the case for all mothers and daughters. She was curious to meet the grandparents and see how they interacted with Isabella and Will.
Soon Will excused himself and went to the backyard. Within a couple of minutes, all the dads were traipsing back into the house with the kids, most none too happy at having been dragged away from their play time.
Will and Isabella were the first to leave, but the other two families followed shortly afterward. Lance and Julia disappeared upstairs to spend some time with Jessa before it was bedtime for the little girl.
Amy finished cleaning up and chatted with a couple of theguests who had returned after spending the day at a nearby beach. When Lance came down after putting Julia to bed, they went over what they anticipated the next day would hold. She was glad her cousin was detail oriented, too. It helped to know what they expected of her and what she needed to do. It made things much easier for her.
Before falling asleep, she emailed Cami with details of the last couple of days and then phoned her mom to touch base. Then in the darkness of her room, Amy prayed for God’s wisdom and understanding as she dealt with Will and Isabella. She felt drawn to the little girl who had no mother to love her and a father who apparently couldn’t love her. Given that Isabella’s age was the same as the kids she usually worked with, Amy felt that maybe God had another purpose for her time in Collingsworth in addition to helping Lance and Jessa.
~*~*~
CHAPTER THREE
Will put his hands on his hips as he stared down at Isabella. Stubbornness was stamped all over the little girl’s face. It had been one battle after another since she’d gotten up. He’d suggested the wrong thing for her to wear. He’d done her hair wrong. He hadn’t offered her the right things for breakfast. And the latest was his denial of her request to go to the manor and see Amy.
“We’re not going to the manor,” Will repeated, more firmly than the first two times he’d said it.
Isabella crossed her arms. “Why?”
“I have some work I need to get done. You can read or draw or watch television.”
“You’re mean.” She poked out her lower lip.
There had been more of these episodes lately, and Laurel and Violet had both suggested that his indulgence of her in everything was most likely the reason. They had advised him to not give in to her every demand, but he had a feeling that was a bit like closing the barn door once the cows had already escaped. It was a losing battle, and he was just aboutready to phone Lance up to see if he could drop Isabella off to spend some time with Amy. That would be the easy way, but even Delia’s parents had told him the last time they’d visited that he needed to take a firmer hand with her. Their advice had surprised him since he figured they, of anyone, would understand why he found it difficult to say no to Isabella.
“I’m sorry if you think I’m mean, but the answer is no.” This sticking to his guns thing was not easy or fun. “You can bring your things into my office if you want to work in there with me, but we’re not going to the manor.”
With a final glare at him, Isabella spun on her heel and marched down the hallway to her room. Will winced when her door slammed shut then let out a long sigh. He really was the worst father on the planet. Nothing he felt or did for Isabella was right. He knew it was his guilt over how he just couldn’t seem to love her the way that Lance, Matt and Dean loved their children. Every single time he looked at her, all he felt was guilt.
Maybe if Delia had wanted the baby as much as he had, he wouldn’t carry this burden of guilt. But she had been distraught throughout the pregnancy. There had been barely a day when she hadn’t said how much she wished she wasn’t pregnant. It was his insistence that they have a family that had taken Delia’s life. He could blame no one but himself, and Isabella was a constant reminder of his failure. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but he just couldn’t get past the guilt and the feeling of responsibility for her mother’s death.
He ran a hand over his face and, with one last look at the closed door of Isabella’s room, Will walked into the study off the living room where he had a home office. Sitting behind the desk, his gaze went to the picture he kept there of Delia and himself on their wedding day. They’d married late in the afternoon on a beach in the Philippines. The sun had just started to set as they’d been pronounced husband and wife.
It had been a whirlwind courtship starting on the first day of his short term mission trip to the Philippines. There hadbeen a huge potluck supper to welcome them the night his team had arrived. Delia had attended it with her parents, who were also part of the mission. He’d been immediately drawn to her beautiful smile and big brown eyes. At first he’d thought she was too young for him, but after a few subtle questions, he’d discovered that she was, in fact, twenty-one.
They’d gotten to know each other really well, and when he’d had to leave at the end of the summer, it had been horrible. They agreed to try the long distance thing for a bit since she was still going to be in the Philippines for several more months helping out with her parents’ clinic. In the end, neither of them wanted to continue that for too long. Without telling his parents or the rest of the family, he’d flown back to the Philippines after Christmas that year to surprise her. He’d asked her father for her hand in marriage and once they had her parents’ somewhat reluctant blessing,they had decided to get married right away.
In some ways, he regretted not telling his family. He could have flown them all there to be part of the wedding, but it had been a complication he really hadn’t wanted at that point. Though his mother had never voiced how disappointed she was, he’d known she had been.
Will picked up the picture and stared down at it. He thought he’d had everything at that point. A wonderful wife. A career he loved. Enough money to make life easier. And he’d felt confident he and Delia would continue to serve the Lord whenever the opportunity arose. The only thing he had wanted to complete their life together had been a child. Only the very thing that should have completed their family had torn it apart.
Hating himself for the thought, Will put the picture down and flipped open the file he’d put on his desk earlier with the expenses for their latest project. No doubt Isabella would be back for round ten soon. He needed to get work done while he could.
~*~*~
Amy sank down onto a chair at the table and let out a long sigh. Her first breakfast for the guests had been an unqualified success. Though she knew how to cook and bake all kinds of things, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually cooked a meal for strangers. They had been generous with their praise, and she felt more confident about being able to handle the weeks ahead.
“Jessa said it was delicious,” Lance announcedas he walked into the kitchen. “And I agree!”
“Thank you.” Amy stood up to take the tray from him. She set it on the counter and began to take the dishes off of it. “I have to say I’m glad it’s just the one meal a day I have to make for the guests. I about had a panic attack over this one.”
“I figured your mom would have made sure you were well equipped in the kitchen.” Lance filled a cup from the coffee pot. “As I recall, she was a great cook. My mom always used to tell us that we had Aunt Michelle to thank for anything good she made.”
Amy stuck the plates in the dishwasher. “Yeah. I remember Mom talking about how she taught your mom to cook when she and your dad got married.”
