The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,49

want his first day at child care to be associated with teething discomfort.

“Merry!” a voice called. She unbuckled Hunter and pulled him out of his seat before turning to see who it was. Thankfully, the woman coming toward her was friend and not foe. Merry wondered, though, what Eugenie was doing at the church at this hour of the morning.

“Eugenie. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. Is this Hunters first day?” The other woman shot Merry an unexpected smile of understanding.

“I think he’s excited. Or he will be. I’m the one who’s traumatized.”

Eugenie nodded. “He’ll be fine. And you will be too. Just give it time.”

Merry blinked back tears. “Thanks. I knew it would be difficult, but—”

“You’d rather be boiled in oil?”

“Yes.” Merry had to laugh a little at Eugenie’s words.

“I’m sure your reluctance is normal. Keep that in mind.”

Eugenie’s support meant the world to Merry. The two women walked into the church together through the preschool entrance. At this early hour, all of the children and parents were the full-day ones. Although Merry recognized a lot of them, it wasn’t her usual crowd.

“I’m surprised to see you at the church this early,” Merry said.

“A meeting of the altar flower committee.”

Merry made a sympathetic noise. “Roped you into that, too, did they?” She’d been surprised by how quickly Eugenie had gotten involved in so many church activities. It was the last thing Merry would have expected of the reserved librarian.

“Yes, well…” Eugenie shrugged. “I want to support Paul.”

Merry opened her mouth to offer the older woman some advice, but just as quickly shut it again. Right now she was the last person in the world who needed to be giving out advice to people about how to manage their lives.

“I hope it goes well.” Merry nodded toward the corridor that led off to the right. “We’re headed this way.”

“I’m sure Hunter will be fine,” Eugenie repeated before lifting a hand in farewell and continuing on her way.

Merry knew the way to the Mother’s Day Out baby room well enough since the space doubled as the church nursery on Sunday mornings. Sandra, the lead teacher, stood in the doorway watching for them.

“I’ve been waiting for this little man.”

Since Sandra also worked for the church as a nursery attendant on Sunday mornings, she was well known to both Merry and Hunter. That familiarity had been the saving grace in the situation. No spending the day wondering about the person caring for her baby.

“Here we are.” Merry fought to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“We’ve got everything ready for him.” Sandra led the way into the room. “Here’s his cubby.” She pointed to a row of cubed shelving on the wall. “And this will be his crib.” She gestured toward the one closest to the window. At least Hunter would have a view.

“Great,” Merry answered, wishing she could mean it. The room was bright, cheery, and clean, with every toy Hunter could possibly need on the low shelves. Why didn’t that make her feel any better?

“We take a walk in the stroller each morning,” Sandra said. “And we have time on the infant playground twice a day, weather permitting.”

Merry thought of the cute double-decker strollers that allowed the caregivers to push four children at a time and the shaded play area designed especially for the littlest students. Clearly Hunter was going to be a busy boy. And most likely a perfectly happy one. The knowledge did nothing to alleviate the knot in her stomach.

“Why don’t I take him,” Sandra suggested as she reached for Hunter, “and you can put his things in the cubby?”

Merry recognized Sandra’s suggestion for the distraction ploy it was, but she agreed to it anyway. She let the other woman take Hunter from her arms and then turned away to hide the expression on her face. She busied herself stowing Hunter’s belongings.

A few moments later, she had regained her composure and could turn back to the room. Her son sat happily on a large mat on the floor, Sandra at his side. Hunter picked up a plastic ring and flung it happily into the air.

“Bye, honey.” Merry knelt down to kiss the top of his head. “Mommy’s got to go to work.”

Hunter smiled at her and blew some spit bubbles, then turned his attention back to Sandra, who had retrieved the ring so he could throw it again.

“Have a good day,” Sandra said from her position on the floor. “Hunter will be fine.”

Why did everyone keep saying that?

Because

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