Free Mixed Blessings by Cathy Marie Hake Page A

wrecking havoc on whatever their little cars and trucks encountered.
    The very low-key ordinariness of the late afternoon helped her tremendously. In the midst of such an upheaval, the fact that simple everyday play and chores still carried on gave a measure of sanity to her precarious world.
    When the boys’ interest finally flagged, Marie decided,“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She held the hose while they all splashed, squished and rinsed. She swiped at a smudge on Luke’s cheek. “You have dirt here.”
    â€œDo this.” Peter demonstrated cupping his hands, filling them with water, and making a bubbling sound as he stuck his face in, then scrubbed his cheeks.
    Both boys laughed.
    Marie watched in amusement as both boys used Peter’s technique to “wash” their faces. Both of them got more water on their shoes than on their faces.
    As they headed into the house, Marie felt a flicker of hope. If this was a true example of how Peter and the boys got along, with a lot of time and effort, they might be able to arrive at a workable solution.
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    As they finished supper, Peter winked at Marie. “Luke likes bedtime stories. What about Rick?”
    Clearly, he remembered what she’d said about him boring her son into nightmares with his bedtime stories. She called, “Ricky, get your book and take it to Aunt Sandy.” There. Took care of that.
    Ricky grabbed his Bible storybook and climbed onto Sandy’s lap. Luke tentatively tiptoed over, and at Ricky’s invitation, he scrambled up and joined them. She read to them as Marie and Peter washed the dishes. Luke nodded off before the story was over.
    The way Peter snatched up Ricky after things were done almost shattered Marie’s heart. He did it so naturally, but the move showed a thirst to make and foster a budding connection—a connection that would be for keeps. She closed her eyes at that thought. For keeps…he wanted his son. He wanted Ricky, not just for a few moments or a little pal, but as his very own, under his roof, in his heartand for a lifetime. She couldn’t blame him, but she couldn’t give in, either.
    Marie opened her eyes again and watched Peter. Strong, yet gentle, he clutched Ricky to himself with a fierceness that defied words. The mixture of love and anguish on his face made Marie turn and walk away. In the few moments she’d held Luke, she’d fallen head over heels in love; so she knew she couldn’t expect Peter to care any less for his own biological son, even if it caused her these moments of soul-deep torment.
    Marie quietly slipped Luke into the upper bed of the trundle, then readied the lower mattress for Ricky. Peter’s low chuckle blended with Ricky’s delighted squeals. Airplane noises and more peals of laughter filtered through the door. “Do it again!”
    Marie’s head bowed in a moment of pain. Jack would have loved to hear those words. I can’t keep living in the past or wish for what might have been. She finally summoned enough of a voice to call, “Bedtime, Ricky.”
    Peter held Ricky securely around the torso and legs and “flew” him into the room like an airplane. They came directly to the bedside. Instead of putting him down, Peter turned Ricky, gave him a big hug then settled him into Marie’s arms. Smiling at her, he whispered, “Do you say night-night prayers, too?”
    â€œUh-huh,” Ricky said, “Mommy helps.”
    Peter knelt down next to Marie and wedged Ricky between them. “Okay.”
    Marie slanted him a strained look and decided not to make an issue of his presence. He’d already handed Ricky back. As astute as he was, surely Peter intended it as a signal of his awareness that she was still in charge. She started the prayer, and Ricky quickly joined in, “Now I lay me down to sleep…”
    After the usual prayer he’d said by rote, she’d taught Ricky to