A Very Special Delivery

everywhere.”
    “She’s already trying to.” Ethan joined her at the table. “And she gets furious because her bottom won’t follow her arms.”
    With fond looks at the infant the two adults dug into the fragrant pizza.
    “So,” Molly said as she peeled a chunk of melted mozzarella off the wax paper. “I thought you were running errands this afternoon. Why are you here, plying me with hundreds of my favorite fat grams?”
    “I missed you.” That much was true. Being away from her all day was starting to be a problem. “Didn’t you miss me, too?”
    She propped her elbows on the table, pizza slice drooping from one hand. “Hellooo. I saw you last night. Remember? Buttered popcorn and Junior Mints at Mena’s movie theater.”
    “Seems longer than that.”
    “Yeah.” She grew serious for a second, studied her pizza as if the black olives were fly specks. Ethan wondered what was going on inside that complicated head of hers.
    “I actually do have an ulterior motive for being here,” he said, placing his half-eaten pizza on a plate. “Finish your food first.”
    She paused in midbite. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
    “No, you won’t like this conversation, but we have to have it. I talked to James today after church.”
    The pizza slice plopped onto her plate. One hand reached reflexively for her throat. “My brother-in-law?”
    “Yes. He told me something that might help.”
    Her eyes grew as large as the flowered plate. “Help with what? Nothing can change the fact that my sister hates me, if that’s what you mean.”
    “I don’t think she does, Molly. I think she’s angry at God and is afraid of admitting that so she blames you. Did you know she and James haven’t been able to conceive another child?”
    She closed her eyes, stricken. Her small body seemed to draw into itself. “Oh, that’s awful.”
    “I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad. I thought knowing would help you to understand that you aren’t the cause of her unhappiness.”
    “Ethan, her son is dead and now she can’t have another child. That makes me feel ten times worse. Not better.”
    “Look, Molly, you and Chloe have to resolve this issue. It’s killing you both.”
    “I want to. More than anything. But she won’t let me.”
    “Then take steps to change that. Start going to church again. Make her face you, and by doing so, face the problem.”
    “I can’t.” Molly’s skin paled, and she pushed the pizza plate away. One hand stroked the column of her throat over and over again. “I wish I could, but I just can’t.”
    Torn between exasperation and compassion, Ethan rounded the table and knelt beside her chair. He hated to see her upset. “Hey. It’s okay. I understand.”
    “Do you?”
    “Not completely,” he answered honestly. “But in a way I do. You feel guilty. And responsible. I know something about that kind of thing myself.”
    Molly studied him for moment, and then her voice grew gentle. “You’re talking about Laney’s mother, aren’t you?”
    His gut knotted. Would she think less of him if she knew the truth?
    “Yeah, I am.”
    His failure with Twila was nothing compared to losing a child, but the two situations related in a way. They both changed the directions of lives and caused a great deal of heartache. He’d wrestled with his own culpability enough to understand how difficult it could be to forgive oneself. In truth, he was still working on it.
    Laney’s toy banged repeatedly against the floor while Ethan debated the wisdom of telling Molly about his past.
    His partying days seemed like another life. Someone else’s life. Reliving that time, even in memory, pained and shamed him. But maybe sharing his own struggle would help Molly through hers.
    Finally, when the silence between them grew long, Molly brought her hand to rest lightly, comfortingly next to his temple and said, “You can tell me anything, Ethan. I’ve told you plenty of painful things.”
    But she had been innocent. He hadn’t been.
    He drew in a strengthening breath and exhaled in one rushing gust. “I didn’t become a Christian until shortly before Laney was born.” He grasped her hand and pressed it against his cheek. “That’s not an excuse for bad behavior, but I want you to understand that Christ changed me.”
    “Nobody’s life is perfect, Ethan. Even after we accept the Lord.”
    “True, but I wanted you to know that I’ve changed. I’m not the kind of man I was back then.” He