been rallying around her and pitching in with the housework and the child care. As much as she appreciated it—and she did very much—the weight of the guilt over inconveniencing them choked her. It was time to start paying back.
She put her hand on her daughter’s soft downy head and gently turned her in the direction of the living room. They went a few paces before Madison suddenly stopped chatting, wrapped one arm around Danielle’s knee and dug in her heels.
Strange. Danielle knew that the little girl hadn’t seen Jonas since their brief trip to Seattle for Christmas. “C’mon, baby, let’s go see your daddy.”
“No.” Madison dropped her phone and buried her face in her hands.
Danielle knelt down—which was awkward since Madison still had one arm tightly around her knee—and realized Jonas was watching them from the couch. Tyler was camped down beside his dad on the cushion, his feet tucked beneath him, shoes and all.
“C’mon, Madison!” Tyler called out. “Mom made the fudge cookies.”
“Fudge cookies?” Madison spread two chubby fingers to peer out and verify the truth of her big brother’s claim.
And right before supper, too, Danielle thought. “Only one, both of you, or you’ll spoil your dinner.”
It was tough being the mom, because she had to face Tyler’s groan and Madison’s gasp of distress at such news. She gently nudged her daughter forward a step. “Go on, sweetie. Tyler has a cookie for you.”
“No.” Madison removed one hand from her face, held up two fingers, reconsidered, and held up three, which meant she wanted three cookies. Her adorable little chin jutted.
Danielle knew that look. Ah, the terrible twos were such a joy. She took a breath and gathered her courage for the impending battle—knowing she’d come out unpopular in the end—and then she felt Katherine’s hand on her shoulder.
“She reminds me of someone,” Katherine said innocently. “Who could it be?”
“Not me.” Danielle started to laugh, even as she denied it. “I’m not stubborn and never have been.”
“No, not you,” Katherine agreed, laughing, as she opened the refrigerator door.
Yep, her mother had warned her this day would come. She figured the best way to deal with having a daughter just like herself was to embrace it. She unwrapped Madison from her knee. “It’s too bad you don’t want a cookie.”
“No! No! Bring me some!”
Danielle sighed and turned her back, unable to ignore the fact that her sister was silently laughing as she gathered condiments from the refrigerator.
“Just you wait,” she told Katherine as Madison’s outrage was about to start. “This is what babies turn into.”
Not that she minded, but Madison could really scream—a sound best avoided. “I’m going to have to invest in some earplugs.”
“Or something.” Katherine was still laughing.
“Hi there, Madison,” came Jonas’s deep and gentle voice from across the room. “You want a cookie?”
Danielle turned to see their daughter’s reaction. Madison’s face, red with the beginnings of a typical two-year-old tantrum, scrunched with thought. Her chin stayed up a notch, and slowly she shook her head side to side.
“No!” Madison uttered that word with impressive force. She held up four fingers.
“Suit yourself,” Jonas said, good-naturedly. “Tyler and I will eat ’em.”
Madison’s jaw dropped in surprise. She’d been startled out of her tantrum.
As Danielle knelt to retrieve Madison’s plastic pink phone, Jonas’s gaze fastened on hers. She smiled a thank-you to him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. By the time she’d handed Madison her play cell, Jonas had gone back to studying the album.
His steady baritone was warm with kindness as he asked their son, “What’s this here?”
Tyler, brimming with happiness, pointed to the picture. “That’s where we got to make a campfire. And we had to make sure we had buckets of water and dirt ready in case it went out of control, so we didn’t start a forest fire.”
“You did a good job.”
“Yep, I did. I made sure there was no forest fires! Then, after we did the s’mores—”
“Mores?” Jonas asked, and was rewarded with Tyler’s explanation of the huge s’mores they’d made together, the biggest ones in the whole world.
Danielle heard Katherine behind her.
“It’s going well,” Katherine whispered, and there was a smile in her voice as she padded by on the way to the dining room table.
It was going well. She took one last look at her husband and son, side by side on the couch, already buddies again. No matter what they’d lost, and with the remaining challenges of Jonas’s injuries still standing between them, they had a little bit of their normal family life back.
Lord, this means everything. Thank You.
Danielle straightened Madison’s pink rhinestone tiara before she opened the closest cabinet door and counted out enough plates for everyone. Madison stood in place, watching her father with wide staring eyes.
“Want to go in and see your daddy, sweetie?”
She shook her head, still staring.
Katherine returned from the dining room and took the plates. “She’s still shy around him?”
“I suppose that’ll eventually stop.” Danielle pulled out knives and forks and then closed the drawer with her hip. “Pastor Dan said to not force anything, especially with her so young, but—”
“It will be just fine. Look at Tyler.” Katherine scooped the bags of food from the counter. “He’s practically floating he’s so happy.”
“He is.” Danielle smiled across the width of the house, where Jonas had gone back to watching her again. “This is Katherine.”
“Katherine,” Jonas repeated. “The older sister.”
“Yes, that would be me.” Katherine began passing the plates around the table. “I’m not staying for very long,” she told him. “Tomorrow you’ll meet all of us. Are you ready for that?”
“Ready.” Jonas nodded once with his lopsided smile.
“We’re a scary bunch, but not dangerous.” Katherine smiled at him. “Jack, my husband, is looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Jack. Jack from up the street in Glendale.” Jonas smiled. “I was the new kid in third grade and he let me play basketball with him. I can remember going to high school and driver’s education and all kinds of things like that. But not this.” He looked around him.
Danielle saw the pain in his eyes when he turned toward her. “It’ll come, Jonas. One step at a time. I have faith you will remember everything. You just can’t push it. You’d better come to the table, both of you. Do you need help?”
“I can do it.” He put down the photo album and began to struggle with his walker.
Tyler, such a good little boy, grabbed the walker by the handle. “Let me help, Dad. I’m real strong.”
“Real strong,” Jonas agreed, kind even when pain lined his pale face. “Thanks, buddy.”
Danielle’s vision blurred and she finished setting the table. The man toiling with his walker, scooting forward one slow step at a time, reached the table exhausted.
“I’ll let myself out,” Katherine said quietly from the kitchen. “Jonas, I’m going to keep praying for