Chapter Eleven:
Dandelions in the Breeze
The sun was beating down, almost blinding me with its unyielding, blinding rays. In my left arm was our baby, my right hand trying to shield the sleeping face from the bright light. Squinting, I scanned my surroundings, failing to find what I was looking for.
The park was full of families that day – at the swing set a father was pushing his son on the swing, the little boy begging to go higher; at the bench a mother was reading a book to her daughter. As I walked up the pathway, I couldn't help but smile to myself.
"Just think, Reverend Carter, one day you'll be able to share those moments with your child." I turned my head to find an older woman with a knowing look upon her face.
"And what a day that will be." I shared.
Just then my eyes fixated on the shaded hill up in the distance. There Jamie was laying out a blanket on the grass, a picnic basket resting beside her. The wind was blowing her skirt in the wind, making the material appear to be dancing around her. I carefully took my seat next to her. The immediate relief from the sun washed over me, and I was finally able to relax.
Jamie took my free-hand in hers, "My two favorite people."
Looking up to the sky, I could see the sun advancing its rays through the branches. "I don't know how much longer our shade is going to hold out," I sighed.
Jamie glanced around the blanket, deep in thought, before leaning over to pick a single dandelion. Holding it in front of me, she smiled. "Landon, worries are like dandelions." She paused, twirling the simple flower in her fingers. "They are blown away on the breeze of an answered prayer." With that, she gently exhaled through her lips, sending the seeds in infinite directions until they disappeared altogether.
Taking the now bare stem into my fingers, I contemplated her words. How easy it all seemed!
"Landon … Landon ..." I forced my eyes open to find Jamie whispering in my ear. "Landon, wake up. Someone's knocking at the door." By the sound of her voice it was apparent that she was still half asleep as well.
Groggily I glanced at the clock. "3:34! Why would anyone decide to drop by in the middle of the night?"
I started to sit up when Jamie stopped me. "Be careful. It might be a burglar or something."
I chuckled. Lowering my head, I kissed her on the forehead, my fingers running through her hair. "Baby, burglars don't knock to be let in."
Missing a few steps, I stumbled down the staircase. Now fully jolted awake, I reached the front door and looked through the peep-whole. "Oh great! It's worse than a burglar – it's Reverend Sullivan!" I couldn't believe it. I unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door, hoping my eyes had been playing tricks on me and that it was a robber after all. They hadn't.
"Landon … Can I come in?" Reverend Sullivan managed to choke out.
"Sure." As he stepped past me, my guilt overcame me and I found myself saying things that even caught me by surprise. "Reverend, I'm sorry. This is entirely my fault…"
"Landon," he protested.
For some reason, I continued. "I had promised myself that I wasn't going to let anything happen between us…"
"Landon."
My mind had drifted back to our night on the balcony. "But then that night… the way the light was reflecting off her face …"
"Son, please… stop while you're ahead." His hand was resting on my shoulder.
Embarrassment washed over me. "Gosh, Landon – how much would you have told him if he wouldn't have stopped you? …"
My thoughts were interrupted by quiet giggling coming from upstairs. Jamie's face was peeking around the corner, smiling down on the scene that was playing out right inside the front door. "Daddy." She descended the staircase and gave her father a hug.
"Jamie, I owe you an apology – I owe both of you an apology." Reverend Sullivan glanced at me. "I realize it's late, but if you could just hear me out, I would really appreciate it." His voice was shaking; it was clear that he was nervous.
"Come on in, Reverend." I said, turning on the living room lights, inviting him to take a seat. "It can't be any worse than it was this afternoon, could it?"
"You would think that by this point in my life, I would realize that you can't foresee the Lord's plan – especially after you entered my daughter's life, Landon." He chuckled to himself at his comment before continuing. "Tonight, God has had to show me that that is still an area that I need to work on. Jamie, when I heard that you were pregnant, I could not have been more caught off-guard. It was just too much for me to handle. I spent this past evening sulking over old home movies, asking God what it was that was bothering me so much."
We sat there in silence for some time. Jamie and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
At last, he continued. "It took me a lot of reflection to realize that I wasn't worried about you, Jamie. You made it very clear today that you had found your peace." He took Jamie's hand before focusing on me. "I was worried about you, Landon. I couldn't help but see a little bit of myself when I thought about you becoming a single father. I didn't want to watch you go through all of the mixed emotions I experienced."
I exhaled in astonishment. As I looked up at him, I actually had a new sense of respect for the man.
"When I lost your mother, Jamie, I found you to be my greatest source of comfort. You were a part of her in every aspect, reminding me of her presence at every turn. At the very least, I know that, Landon, you will come to appreciate the solace in knowing that in this way Jamie will always be with you." Tears had fought their way out of Reverend Sullivan's eyes as he continued. "A part of me, however, wouldn't accept that as being enough. I must have watched over six hours of videos of you when you were younger, Jamie. Then I found something." He pulled a video tape out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted earlier. I love you both and am really happy for you. God has truly blessed you."
I rose from the couch and put the tape in the VCR. Hitting play, I couldn't help but wonder what he had come across. I wrapped my arm around Jamie and she leaned in, resting her head on my shoulder. Reverend Sullivan looked at the two of us, his lips forming a slight smile.
As soon as the tape started, I was immediately transported back to kindergarten – Mrs. Jones, play dough, and paper paste: The camera struggled to focus as it slowly scanned the classroom before finally zooming in on a little girl in pig-tail braids along the one wall.
"I had forgotten how adorable you were back then," I whispered.
Jamie smiled, before bursting out in laughter. "Is that you and Eric playing in the sand box in the background?"
I chuckled. "That would be correct – nice hair, hugh?" I replied, referring to my long bowl-cut.
"I think it's cute." She glanced up at me.
Jamie was sitting in the rocking chair, a doll in her arms. You could just make out the lullabies she was humming as she rocked back and forth.
"Aren't you a good Mommy," Mrs. Jones had approached her and was now kneeling beside her. "Did you get your baby to stop crying?"
"No, Mrs. Jones – it's not hungry and it won't go to sleep. I don't know what to do."
"Well, Jamie, what else do babies need to make them happy?" she questioned.
Jamie cupped her chin in the palm of her hand, scrunching her forehead deep in thought. Her face suddenly lit up. "I know! Thanks, Mrs. Jones." She glanced around the room before finally heading in my direction and tapping me on the shoulder. "Baby wants her daddy to tuck her in."
I laughed, a questioning look painted on my face, before finally pulling my hands out of the wet sand I was shaping. I took the doll in my hands, brought it up to my shoulder, patted its back, and then lay it down on a nearby chair.
She thanked me, and then noticing her father in the corner, took off skipping. "Daddy, Daddy."
With that the video turned to fuzz.