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Sara felt so
stupid! Because she had taken years of high school Spanish--she had even been
president of the club once. At work, she was often the one called upon to translate
or relay messages to Spanish-speaking clients. That’s what this was – yet
another assignment requiring her to use her (usually) very good Spanish
skills. However, Sara remembered with a groan, this was more than that.
This was
Pedro's dad – well, his grandfather – the man who had raised him, and the man
who still saw him daily. And as she sat before him, most of her language
training completely left her. She wished that she could hide her face and run
away, but this was business, not personal, so she sat quietly and sought for
the right words.
Frustrated, Sara decided to take the
plunge, remembering that this man had always been humble and willing to work
with her mistakes. Adding Spanish endings to English words had sometimes
worked in the past when she had not been able to communicate, and she figured
it might get her through a few tough words here. Sara realized that she had
to do something to get the ball
rolling, and so she took a deep breath, jumping right in.
Well, that’s how she had planned to
speak. But when she opened her mouth, her words were hesitant. "Señor Medina, estoy embarazada..." She wrung her hands, but as she
continued speaking, her words came more swiftly. "Mi español no es muy bueno, y pues, me
siento mal."
Sara’s words faded, but just then, the
elderly gentleman stepped forward with pity in his eyes and smiled gently,
nodding his head in encouragement. She stumbled over the words, "Quiero hablar mejor." A sudden gentle clucking followed her
statement. "Lo estas haciendo
muy bien, mija. No se preocupe.”
How could it be that she understood his
encouraging comments, but she could not speak her own phrases back at him
without confusion? Maybe it was a mental short-circuit
brought on by extreme stress due to idiotic nervousness… Okay, now she was
babbling inwardly, too!
“Sientase aquí," he said, bringing her to the kitchen table.
He set before her a plate of soda crackers and some water, just what she
needed right now for her queasy stomach. A virus had done a number on her
this week.
Solicitous and kind, he pampered her so
much that after fifteen minutes, she found herself no closer to explaining
the insurance situation she had come to discuss. Suddenly, Pedro came in the
door, and as he saw her, he froze. Suddenly, he swallowed and sat down. Then,
though her feelings clamored for her attention, she pushed them aside and
spoke quickly.
"Pedro, it's a
good thing you arrived. I needed to tell your grandfather about the mix-up at
the insurance office. We accidentally gave him the smoker's rate at the
policy’s inception, and we now realize that we have been billing him
incorrectly for ten years. Can you tell him that?"
After Pedro had
finished translating that message, she added, "The company is willing to
refund him the overpayment amount in addition to the rest of the money that
had been due to him. So, the point is that his check at policy maturity —
which, as you know, will be happening this month – will be much larger than
expected. I hope that this comes as good news to him."
Sara realized that she
was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop. She was so nervous
around Pedro since she had abruptly broke up with
him a few weeks ago. It was uncomfortable to see him again, but the company
procedure was to deliver less-than-ideal news in person, making the company’s
remorse seem more personal, and reducing the likelihood of lawsuits.
"I only found it
out this morning, and I wanted to come tell him myself. I realized, however,
that my Spanish is not good enough to relay all of the information. Thank you
for your assistance in translating for me."
Pedro nodded, apparently still dumbstruck
at the sight of her in his grandfather's house. "I have to go now,"
she finally said. "I just didn't want him to think that there was a
mistake when he finally got his check."
The entire message had
been given, and yet she still babbled on. Why can’t I shut up? She
asked that of herself while her mouth continued spewing out unnecessary
information.
"It's going to
be, I hope, a very pleasant thing for you all, in spite of the confusion it
might have caused. Tell him to call me with any questions, and thank him for
the kindness he has shown me today."
She had spoken this all in a rush,
pausing for his occasional translated remarks to his grandfather. Then, she
smiled again, once again mentioned that she had to be going, and stumbled out
the door and back into her car. Only after she reached her
vehicle did she realize that she was holding her breath.
Oh, that was really
embarrassing. But, well, it could have been worse, right? It was quick and
now it's over. So, when my heartbeat goes back to normal and my mind quits
screaming at me, I'll just shrug it off.
Sara laughed
at herself. Her mind was in a tizzy. The events of this morning--first, the
confusion about the overpayment, then seeing Pedro again, and now, the memory
of Pedro’s look when their eyes met—all were combining to make her a little
crazy.
I must get back to
the office. There's a mound of work waiting for me. So, let me just get Pedro
right out of my head. He doesn't belong there anymore, or in my heart.
When I said it was over, it was for
the best. In fact, if I never see him again, that would be ideal. Sighing, she added, but bumping into him like this
is mortifying.
Sara had to admit that her heart still went
pitter-patter whenever Pedro was near. In an effort to ward off that
reaction, however, Sara reminded herself of the reason for their break-up.
Pedro had shown her throughout their relationship that he would always be
pushing her for sex, and her behavior last month
proved her inability to resist him. Because of this, Pedro would have to
remain only a shadow from her past.
Sara was proud of the
way she had behaved after the event. Breaking up with him was the right thing
to do. She knew that in spite of her agony, she had made the wisest choice.
She did not want anything coming between her and her relationship with God,
and even with all that she had lost, she had gained a closer walk with the
Lord that was worth the pain.
No, not even Pedro's
magnetism could quench the love she had for her savior. And so, even as she
faced the knowledge that her heart was breaking every day, she continued to
stand firm and ignore the feelings that seemed to try to overwhelm her
whenever she thought of her loss. For though she knew she had chosen
correctly, her heart mourned her broken relationship with Pedro.
Sighing, Sara shook off her sadness and
smiled as she headed through the glass door and answered her ringing phone.
"Thank you for calling Unexpected
Adventures. How may I help you?" The phone never stopped ringing
from that moment on.
"Me dijo que estaba embarazada,
hijo. ¿Que
fallo has cometido con la rubita? La trataste como una mujer de la calle,
pero tu sabias que ella vale mas que eso. En verdad,
no te puedo ni mirar ahora. Por lo menos, dime que no sabias esto del bebé. Por favor, dime que te lo ocultó."
Pedro listened to his
grandfather's words with alarm. He grew pale and found himself reaching for
the armchair behind him. He sat and stared at his grandfather, who avoided
his eyes and shook his head, revealing a conviction that Pedro's behavior had
disgraced them all.
"I'm sorry, Papi. You know that it was not my intention to disrespect
her in any way. I love her." His grandfather sighed. "No me vengas con ese inglés. Yo te traje a
este país para que lo aprendieras, pero conmigo se habla español." Pedro began to tremble. His grandfather’s stern manner
was disheartening, but that was not the real source of his discomfort. The
thought that his mistake was now costing Sara so much overwhelmed him.
"Papi, me casare con ella." His voice was firm. His grandfather, however, did not
treat the announcement as the heroic sacrifice that it was to Pedro. Instead,
he answered simply, "Por supuesto."
Nodding, Pedro realized that he deserved that. It was no great honor to marry
a woman because you had committed an act of selfishness; with his upbringing,
he could be expected to do no less. He had made the right decision—the only
decision, but his grandfather well knew that it deserved no applause.
Now, Pedro realized,
the real work would be convincing Sara to accept his proposal. He didn't tell
Papi about that, though. The old man did not
understand modern times, and the thought of a woman choosing to remain
a single mother didn't compute in his pre-wired mind. "Okay, pues, nos veremos mas tarde, Papi.
Tengo que hablar con Sara lo más pronto posible. Y a ti te pido tus
oraciones. Las necesitaremos."
Nodding his understanding,
Papi said, "Quizás debes orar por ti mismo,
hijo. Ya yo soy viejo y no siempre te duraré. Busca de Dios tú mismo. El te escuchará."
Pedro had spent years
in the church. Between the three days a week that he attended services
growing up, as well as the hours that they spent arriving early and leaving
late, he must have whiled away whole months of his life in the pews,
meandering through the empty classrooms after services, and spending time in
the office receiving the pastor's gentle reprimands.
With all the years of
Bible studies, camp activities, and scouting from a Biblical foundation,
Pedro knew that he really should have all the knowledge he needed for coping
with life's problems. Apparently, however, it was more important to have
church inside the person than the person to spend time inside the church.
None of the knowledge of man’s need for
God had stuck, until now. Pedro thought about all this as he walked down the driveway
to his car and stepped inside, turning on the motor and adjusting the air
conditioner. As he was about to release the parking brake, a sob escaped his
throat.
Bowing at the wheel of his trendy sports
car, Pedro came face to face with his need for God. "Lord, take my life.
I've made a mess of it. And please, help Sara through this trying time."
It was then that he
realized that he needed to do more than propose to Sara. He needed to
apologize. Sighing, he wondered why he had not realized that sooner.
I know why:
Because, to me, the most wonderful moment of my life was when Sara and I came
together. I knew that I was not sorry, and didn’t want to apologize for it.
But now, knowing what this will do to her life, I realize that I was wrong. I
wanted her to have enjoyed it so much that she wouldn’t repent, but in
reality, she was right, and I was wrong. Still, how can I say that to her in
a way that she’ll believe?
"I'll write her a
letter." A talented wordsmith, Pedro had made his living with his
"pen." Clicking away at the keys of his laptop, he composed a
letter that was sure to convey his deepest thoughts in a manner that would
reach her heart. Then, realizing that hitting the SEND button was not
an option, he printed out the letter and took it to her.
"Hey, is it time for lunch?"
Pedro asked Sara as she exited the front door of the insurance company where
she worked. Appearing unruffled, Sara hardly missed a beat as she continued
toward her car. She shook her head and said, "Not now, Pedro. I don’t
want to deal with you today. I’m on my way to lunch and I want to be able to
eat in peace." Her stomach was already a mess, just from having spotted
him coming up behind her left elbow. Now, when he crossed in front of her,
blocking her path, and putting on his most beguiling expression, she felt
almost suffocated by emotions that rose up inside her.
"I hate you,
Pedro. I really do. Now, leave me alone." He felt as if she had dealt
him a blow. "I’m sorry," he blurted. His voice was pained, and his
expression had changed. He looked devastated. Sara wished she had kept her
mouth shut, but right now, it was more important to get away and to think
than to apologize, particularly with the bile rising in the back of her
throat.
She turned and resumed
her walk to her car, determined to eat lunch inside tomorrow. Pedro’s
soft-spoken words struck deeply into her back, like arrows from a bow.
"I thought you were the spiritual one." Sighing, she turned and
said, "Not around you, Pedro. And that’s why I need to stay away from
you. In fact, I’m not much of anything anymore."
He moved toward her
swiftly, and she simply stood there, waiting for him to hurt her more deeply.
She had a resigned expression on her face, and he was tempted to leave her
alone. He wanted to avoid hurting her any more than he already had. Finally,
he stopped a few feet in front of her and said, "I love you, Sara. I
used that as an excuse to believe that I had not done anything wrong, but
today, I realized how foolish that thinking had been. I want to stop hurting
you. I’m sorry, truly I am."
Sara simply stared,
dumbstruck and dazed. She had imagined him using these words a hundred times
in the first days after their breakup. She had hoped and wished he would come
to her and apologize. But his extended silence had done its damage, and now,
she was unwilling to listen. "I’m sorry, too, Pedro. Goodbye."
Turning, she got into her car and drove away.
Pedro was alone.
Somehow, upon hearing of the baby, he had convinced himself that Sara would
accept him back. However, she had steeled herself against his words.
Apparently, his many previous stunts had proven to her that his word could
not be taken at face value. He wished now that he had lived with more
integrity. He hoped that he would eventually prove himself to her, but in the
meantime, he was at a loss.
That night, Sara was at her parents’
house eating some of her mother’s delicious lasagna when she began to feel
nauseated. Sighing, she said, "There’s my upset stomach again. I thought
I’d be over it by now, but this bug seems to be stronger than my body’s
ability to fight it. Smiling, her father reached over and gave her hand a
squeeze. "Let’s go over to Luke’s tonight after dessert. He’ll have
something for you." She nodded and chomped a few croutons, afraid to
take another bite of anything else.
Later, Luke welcomed
them into his apartment. His wife was into Oriental and jade decorations. The
living room was beautifully and elegantly decorated, and the kids seemed able
to enjoy the austere atmosphere and lounge around on the fancy floor pillows
as easily as if they were bean bag chairs. For Sara, however, it would have
to be bean bags. My kids are going to be surrounded by a riot of color and
brightness. Eleanor must like this, and her family seems quite happy, but I’d
rather have a place that feels like a home.
Sara watched Eleanor enter the room, looking like the gracious hostess she was. Sorry for her
uncharitable thoughts, Sara immediately remembered how much she actually liked
this lady. "Hi, Eleanor," she said with a smile. "As usual,
you’re looking lovely today." Smiling, Eleanor motioned for everyone to
be seated and began handing out glasses of lemonade for all her guests. The
flavor of this particular drink was always pleasant. It seemed that Eleanor
had discovered a brand that no one else seemed to be able to find; it was
uniquely her own. This thought could describe Eleanor herself perfectly—she
was an individual all the way. Reaching out for her drink, Sara smiled again
at her very formal friend, glad to have the beautiful woman as a part of her
life.
"Well,
Luke," her father was saying, now that all the chitchat had passed,
"We thought we’d take advantage of your free medical services once
more." Chuckling, Luke said, "You know that my own mother makes an
appointment at the office." This wasn’t a rebuke—Luke and Dad had been
having this conversation for years, and it never ceased to make them both
smile. "Yes, but your people aren’t quite so
handsome as your dashing neighbor. And they didn’t teach you everything you
know about medicine." Laughing, Luke said, "Okay, okay, you
win."
Dad had been Luke’s
mentor during his residency. They had worked side by side on many patients
until Dad’s failing eyesight had forced him to retire. Still, his skill lived
on in the person he had so lovingly trained to replace him, and now Luke
served as both official and unofficial doctor for the Rose family.
"Okay, then, Sara," Luke said
after his father described her condition. "Come back to my
laboratory." Luke said the words in his friendly manner, drawing out the
word laboratory as if he were referring to Dr. Frankensteins’s
lair. "You know the way, young lady." Smiling, Sara allowed herself
to be led.
There was no one better than Luke to
tease her. She loved him like an older brother, and he loved her just the
same. Smiling, he asked her the usual questions when they got back into the
guest room that served as his in-house office. She answered dutifully, and
then Luke began to pull a sample medication from his cabinet.
"You know that I have to ask
this," he said in the same teasing tone he always used with her,
"but it’s the rule. Do you have any reason to suspect that you might be
pregnant?" Shaking her head, she said hesitantly, "I’ve had lighter
than usual periods the last two months, but I don’t think so." Sitting
down in shock, Luke said softly, "So there is a chance?" Nodding,
Sara swiped at a surprise tear. "Yes, Luke. I hadn’t thought of it
before now, but I’m sorry to say that there is."
Luke sat dumbstruck
for over a full minute. Sara sat still, terrified of what he might say. But
she could not now have the suspicion raised without exploring it, even if her
parents found out about the circumstances through their friendship with Luke.
Staring at the floor, she said, "It was one time." Looking up into
his eyes, she said, "I know that you hear this all the time, but I am
telling the truth, Luke. It was one time—one horribly, messed up moment when
I made the wrong choice. I wish I could take it back. I broke up with him and
it’s over, and now suddenly, this possibility is haunting me."
Luke smiled
reassuringly. "I know you, Sara. If I didn’t know you, I wouldn’t be so
disappointed about this. You are a wonderful girl, and I’m sorry you have to
face this type of fear. Still, I believe that you have a good head on your
shoulders, and it was wise of you to think of your baby before your needs.
Let’s just take this one step at a time, okay? When did this happen?"
Sara answered all his
questions, embarrassed and glowing red with shame. It was much harder to deal
with his kindness than it would have been to face his wrath. Sara was glad
that Luke such a good person, in spite of her embarrassment, and she was proud of him for avoiding condemnation. Sara didn’t
know if she would have been so gentle with little Amanda, her younger sister,
if she had ever heard such a story from her lips. Apparently, however, God
was giving Sara more mercy than she might have given to another person.
A few minutes after
Sara came out of the bathroom and handed Luke the sample, he said softly,
"You’re pregnant, Sara." Then, smiling unexpectedly, he added,
"I guess this might be the wrong reaction, but all I can think of is
that for the first time ever, I’m going to be an uncle!" She laughed and
hugged him. "Thanks for being a bright spot for me during this
terrifying moment
Heading into the
living room, Sara faced the most terrible event of her life. Even more than
her breakup with Pedro, this moment solidified how alone she now was. I
have no one to share this with me, she thought. I have to face this by
myself. She wasn’t a morbid person, and she could usually cheer herself
up whenever things seemed not to be going her way, but right now, not even
her usual optimism could make a dent in her misery.
I really wish,
Lord, that I had that moment to live again. I would definitely have looked
ahead and thought it through first. I can’t believe how blind I was then.
Sighing, she continued her one-sided conversation with
God. You have all power. Can’t you just transport me back to that moment
with the knowledge I have now, if I squint really hard? Unfortunately, in
spite of her strenuous eyebrow exercises, nothing happened. Apparently,
returning to the past was not a choice she could make.
Dad was the first
person to look up and smile at her. "So what was it? Are you in pain,
Honey? wasn’t our dear Doctor Luke able to fix all
that ails you?" Luke spoke up then. "Nothing ails her, not in the
way you mean,"Luke said. Taking a deep breath,
Sara finished for him.
"I’ve made a mistake that has become
a miracle. I’m pregnant." Stunned silence filled the room, and then a
few words began to fly from various directions. She could feel the
condemnation and confusion in the room. It made her queasy and weak.
It was in that moment
before the meaning of everyone’s comments became apparent, that Eleanor spoke
up, and for the first time ever, seemed to be in danger of losing the tight
control she always held on her emotions. "I think I have something to
say right now." Everyone fell silent, aware that Eleanor had never
looked so shaken. All eyes were on her as she continued to speak.
"About twelve
years ago, I made a mistake, and God allowed that error to bring about the
conception of a baby. However, I chose to keep it a secret, and in order to
do that, I had an abortion." Everyone seemed to gasp, though no audible
sound could be heard. "I killed that child rather than face my friends
and family with the knowledge of my mistake."
Then, as air began
filling lungs once again, she walked up to Sara and hugged her. "Thank
you for telling us about your pregnancy, and for trusting us to be supportive
and helpful. I’d also like to thank you for the right choice you are making.
I’ve lived to regret my error my whole life. You are doing the right
thing."
Sara had not known
about Eleanor’s secret. From the mute faces all over the room, it became
apparent that no one but Luke had known a thing about it. With shining eyes,
Luke stared at his wife. Then, he gently took her in his arms, and for the
first time anyone had ever known, Eleanor sobbed. They looked so natural
there, embracing and sharing their hearts. He cried with her, and they
continued to hold one another while everyone else turned to Sara, apparently
just remembering her announcement.
Clearing his throat,
Dad said, "I agree with Eleanor. This news is somewhat disappointing,
since we would not have expected it of you, but we have all made mistakes.
Admitting this one was mortifying, I can imagine. I’m proud of you."
Everyone seemed to
agree, and the moment passed. Now, they all rose and headed home, talking as
usual about all sorts of subjects, adding the baby in at appropriate moments,
and handling it surprisingly well. Sara realized that most of this was due to
Eleanor’s admission. She thanked God again for the lovely lady, and asked
God’s richest blessings upon her.
Lord, she saved the
moment. Thank you, Sara prayed. She was so grateful that her heart felt
full of joy. It was then that Sara remembered her earlier thoughts that she
was all alone in this.
No, I’m not, Lord,
she realized. Though she had failed, she could count on God’s continued
working in her life. It was because she had repented, and because she continued
to seek him every day that she could feel so close to the Lord in spite of
her failure. I was very wrong, she prayed. I’m never alone. You’re
in this with me.
Pedro didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to upset
Sara at this difficult and trying time, but he needed to be with her, and to
help her. She was pregnant with his baby, and he wanted to spend time with
her and talk about it. He needed her, probably more than she needed him,
right now. That was the real issue. "Lord, how can I do this right?"
The order came quickly and clearly, Wait.
Pedro lived the most miserable two days of his life
waiting for Sara to contact him, or for God to give him the green light to
call her. For two days, he prayed and read the Bible as if he were starving for
spiritual sustenance, which he was. Pedro could not believe he lived all his
life without seeking God and knowing the love and joy that could fill his
heart. Even now, with the worries about Sara rushing through his brain, he
could find peace and comfort from God. It sounds so cliché, he said to
himself, but for the first time, I know what it is to be IN LOVE with God.
Sara continued to work, spending her
evenings with her mother, planning for the baby, visiting Luke for informal
checkups, and talking with Eleanor who had championed her cause and helped
her through the darkest moment of her life. Suddenly, Sara was amazed at how
un-sterile Eleanor’s home felt to her, and she began to spend time lounging
on those very decorative, and yet very comfy oriental floor cushions. She
even learned the secret of Eleanor’s exclusive lemonade. As it turned out,
Eleanor had never been allowed to drink Kool-Aid as a child, and so in her
adulthood, she had tried them all. Apparently, their lemonade was quite good,
because Eleanor constantly received compliments on the flavor. Now, Sara
could understand her secretiveness about the recipe. Sara herself would be
tempted to keep that information from prying eyes.
In those few days, it
seemed, everything had changed. Now Sara was discovering a whole world out
there that had been beyond her understanding, simply because she had never
been facing motherhood, as she was now. She also had learned about the power
of prejudice to keep her from good people who might have been a blessing to
her all along, if she had only given them the chance.
Pedro’s face passed through her
mind regularly, and yet Sara was too busy to worry much about him. Finally,
three days after her first disclosure of the situation to her parents, her
father mentioned him at the dinner table. "Is there a reason Pedro has
not been around? I assume he is the father, correct? Shouldn’t he be
here?" Sara’s mumbled answer
barely reached his ears. "We’re not together anymore, Dad." His
answer shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did.
"He is the father
of your baby, and because you rejected him, he doesn’t care about the
child!" Sara could do nothing but stare in mute horror at what her
silence had done. Dad continued raving. "What a character! I would have
bet my life on that boy’s integrity where it counts, but I guess I was
wrong—twice! Not only does he take advantage of my baby, but now he runs from
his responsibility!" Sara was dumbstruck, but her silence must have
confused him, because he stopped and simply waited.
"I didn’t tell
him. I didn’t think he should have anything to do with this. I broke up with
him. Now, running back to ask for money and a commitment seems wrong,
somehow. Dad, he didn’t abandon me. I guess you could say that I abandoned
him." Apparently, hormones were to blame, because although Sara gave the
appearance of sensitivity and femininity, she seldom cried. Now, however, she
began to weep, and her father gently took her in his arms, for the first time
since he found out about the baby.
"Shhh…I didn’t know what had happened. I thought—well, I
didn’t. I guess I was glad enough when that relationship didn’t get anywhere,
because I really doubted his spiritual focus. But I knew he’d never purposely
hurt you, and I guess I should have known he wouldn’t abandon you when you
need him. Call Pedro, Honey. He needs to be part of this as much as you
do."
Sara nodded and wiped
her eyes, admitting that her silence so far had been destructive enough. She
would call him right away. But first, she headed to the bathroom. Oh, this
pregnant bladder!
When she got out of the bathroom, Pedro was waiting for
her in the living room. "Hey," he said in a friendly but hesitant
tone. "Hey," she answered, equally nervous. "I’m sorry I
haven’t called," she said. "You were obviously trying to be nice. I
guess I’m just super-sensitive lately." His smile was pleased, and he
immediately began speaking, eagerly conveying his gratitude that they might
speak freely now.
"Wait," she
said. "There’s something I have to tell you." He sat where she
indicated and then lowered his head, a posture that meant he would carefully
consider her words. "I’m pregnant," she said. His head came up.
There was surprise in his eyes, as she had expected, but less than she might
have supposed to find there. In addition, something else lurked behind his
gaze. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
"You are not
aware that I knew of this." His Spanish accent always became more
pronounced under stress, and his speech patterns were always less precise
then. It was funny—since he was a professional writer—that he should trip up
on his words, but it was so. She knew it well. Smiling at his odd
phraseology, she didn’t think of his meaning until it suddenly dawned on her:
He knew!
"No, you couldn't
have known. I only found out myself three days ago." Puzzled, she asked,
"Who could have told you?" He looked perplexed. My papi told me after you came over the house. Why would you
say that to him if you didn’t know…I have no idea what’s going on." His
words held no accusation, only confusion. Then suddenly, his eyes cleared. He
looked as if he were holding in laugher.
"What exactly did
you say to my Papi?" he asked. She thought
hard, and then she said, "I told him that I felt bad that I couldn’t
speak Spanish well enough, and that I was embarrassed about it. Then, you
came in and translated the rest." A chuckle escaped, and she was about
to laugh along with him, but she had no idea why Pedro was so amused.
"What is
it?" she asked. He laughed out loud, then, but sobered quickly.
"What word did you use for embarrassed?" She said, "I
figured embarasada should be close.
Right? I mean, it sounds the same." She couldn’t continue, because just
then, Pedro began to laugh. He laughed long and loud. Everyone came running.
"What’s up?"
her father asked, smiling. "Your daughter told my grandfather that she
was pregnant, even before she knew it. She was trying to say that she was
embarrassed—instead, she said the word pregnant!"
Howling with laughter,
Sara and Pedro shared a positive emotion for the first time in weeks. Soon,
they were left to themselves. No one else wanted to begin to figure out what
he was talking about, and they were happy just to see that the two were
getting along. They had a long road ahead of them, and laughter was a good
beginning.
A few days later, Sara and Pedro were
talking in the living room when he came to the point. Lowering his voice, he
said softly, "I don’t know if you feel it, but I don’t think it’s going
to be easy for us to resist temptation--no easier now than it was before your
pregnancy." Pedro shuffled his feet, hoping she wouldn't get the wrong
message. She was easy to offend lately, with pregnancy hormones doing their
work in her body.
“Just wait until my belly looks like the
full moon,” Sara quipped. Pedro lowered his head, appearing to give it grave
thought for a minute. Finally, he answered, "Nope, I don’t think even
that would sway my feelings." Lowering his voice, he said to Sara,
"I’m crazy about you. I want to marry you. I want to be with you all the
time. It’s like before—only stronger, because now we have the baby linking
us, and I don’t think either of us plans to break up again. How else do you
want to handle these intense emotions?"
Apparently, the
ball’s in my court, Sara realized. Well, then, let’s throw him a
curve. "We’re having twins," she said simply.
When the breath had returned to his body, Pedro smiled.
"Is that a yes?" Sara swatted his arm and said, "No, it’s a
diversionary tactic. I’m not ready to answer that yet. I need to think about
it." Pedro pulled her to him and hugged her, allowing some time to
relish their closeness before releasing her. "I am going to find it very
hard to wait for your answer," he said softly. When she could think
again, Sara said, "I’ll be as quick as I can."
Eleanor was no help at
all. "Why don’t you marry him? He’s in love with you, you’re driving
yourself to distraction trying to make up excuses not to marry him, and
you’re about to have a baby. You might as well face it: for the baby alone it
would be right to marry him. With everything else going on between you, there
is no real reason to wait."
Dad was equally
simplistic about it. "The guy loves you and he already named the baby
some Spanish gibberish nickname. I’d say he’s committed. So the only question
to ask yourself is: Are you?"
Luke, the wise and
logical doctor said, "Do you love him? I knew when I decided to marry
Eleanor that this was the one person I wanted to be with forever. It wasn’t a
head issue at all, though I guess the spiritual component had to come first
or I wouldn’t have given my emotions permission to follow. So yes, there is
logic to it, but Pedro already meets those qualifications. His growth is
phenomenal, and it’s obvious he’s going to drive you crazy until you marry
him anyway. Marry the guy, and put him out of his misery."
Mom—steady, practical, and dependable
Mom, who was sure to douse every fire of emotional thought—said, "Honey,
this is all about you two. You are both very hot for each other. The energy
there almost scorches us whenever we’re in the room with the two of you. If
you delay much longer, you’re going to be living in sin. Besides—you love
him, don’t you?"
Sara didn’t know why she hesitated. But
something was not right. She was full of doubts—perhaps unfounded, or
paranoid, but very real in her innermost heart. "I need to be able to
trust him." Then, she received the email.
One day, during her lunch break at work,
Sara had decided to eat a bagel with ham and cheese right at her desk so that
she could keep on going with her mountain of paperwork. It was then she
checked her inbox to make sure there was nothing she had missed. Still
chewing on the thick doughy bread, she stopped and froze when she saw that
one of the letters was from Pedro. He never wrote her at work. He thought it
was unprofessional.
Why did he write me
now? She got the strange, irrational feeling that it was some sort of
suggestive correspondence to lure her into marriage on sensual grounds. He had
given her no reason to think that since they had gotten back together—he had
not even kissed her—but she always seemed to have that thought lurking in her
consciousness.
Dear Sara,
I have been thinking about
the reason for your fear of marrying me, and I guess I knew it all along. I
could not be trusted when we first got together, and in spite of my new
dedication to Christ, I might slip or do something unthinking and make you
feel disrespected or hurt. You also wonder if I’ll be able to respect you at
all after what you allowed to happen. Both accusation and guilt seems to
coincide with this type of experience. All I can tell you is that love will
conquer all.
You know me well, and you must be thinking
that a phrase like that could never come from my mouth. Well, it just did. I
said it out loud, and I mean it, too. Love has conquered my old nature, my
self-doubt and fear, and it has made me aware that I want to become involved
in ministry. Though I am not perfect yet, and I can predict pretty accurately
that I might hurt you someday, I promise this: I won’t want to.
I want to love you. I want to share
everything I have with you and with el bebesito. I
want to make your life as complete as you make mine. If you don’t want to
marry me for a while, I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry that I didn’t wait that
night, as well. You would have been worth a wait of seven years.
It shames me that I did not give you the
Rachel treatment, and instead of being Jacob the lover that night, I was more
like David with Bathsheba. Yet even then, God blessed David and made
Bathsheba’s son king. I think you fear that any union begun under such
circumstances must fail for justice to be done. Yet God blessed David and
Bathsheba with a king, an enduring relationship, and with a regal life.
As children of the King, we have that life
of royalty now. Allow us, also, to have the closeness and the children that
God would give to us, secure in the knowledge that from our mistakes, God can
make miracles. Give me the chance to be your husband. Let us be a family.
Waiting
on Him for you,
Pedro
"It must be the hormones. Yeah,
these silly tears are not natural to me," Sara said to herself as she
wiped her cheeks. "I’m certainly not usually
this pathetic." She picked up the phone and dialed. He answered while
she was still reaching for a tissue; before he could speak, she said,
"I’ll marry you."
The voice on the other
line said in a thick accent, "Oh, you will, will you? Well, I don’t want
you. You’re too young for me. Now, my son--he is just your age, and he's
crazy about you. Perhaps you will take him, eh?" Laughing at the
realization that not only did the old man speak English, but that he probably
already knew of the mistake she had made with her Spanish, she said,
"Oh, I’m so embarazada, Señor."
He apparently got the
joke, because his laughter didn’t end for quite a while. Finally, sniffing
his nose as if tears had come to his eyes, he said, "You are not only
good for my son, but for me, too. Welcome to the family." Then, with
mischief in his tone, he asked, "Shall I give him the message?" She
laughed and shook her head, adding, "No, Sir. I will give him this one
myself, thank you."
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