Chapters (18)
“If that’s what you want, it can certainly be arranged,” Paulina said. “I confess that I wouldn’t mind being around when the baby comes, myself. Such moments in life are rare and precious, and I’d like to be involved. I don’t think anyone would mind my being there if I don’t make a nuisance of myself.”
“You never make a nuisance of yourself,” Amala insisted, “and I’m sure they’d be delighted. I was hoping you’d feel that way, because I think I will manage the adjustment much better if you are there. After the baby comes and things have settled, we will decide what to do.”
“Perhaps you will feel comfortable enough that you’ll want to remain at home,” Paulina said. “And though I don’t know what I’ll do without you, I would certainly understand.”
“And perhaps I will go to America with you.”
“We’ll see,” Paulina said with a smile and a wink. And Amala’s mind wandered to the fact that she was going to be an aunt to Henry Beckenridge’s child. When she’d first become smitten with him, she never could have imagined such a turn of events. But she was glad to note that she felt nothing but happiness for both Henry and Kat. And her parents’ excitement about becoming grandparents couldn’t help but make her smile. Perhaps this baby would be the means of healing any residue of difficult feelings that might remain. Amala considered the possibility a pleasant thought and clung to it, wondering what it would be like to have a baby become a part of the family.
The following day Amala and Paulina went to church—as they’d done nearly every Sunday throughout their travels. Together they had attended many different churches of different denominations and many different atmospheres. They’d worshiped with tiny congregations in little village chapels, and large congregations in enormous cathedrals. Amala definitely felt closer to God in some settings than others, but recalling her horrible encounter with the vicar back home, she especially enjoyed being able to attend church without having him look down from the pulpit at her with his judgmental eyes.