A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,69
do this, right?”
Peyton shuffled through the background sheets she’d bought. “I saw a TV program about scrapbooking so I know a little.” She looked up. “But if I have a problem, I’ll let you know.”
Kelsey pulled out some of the decorative accessories. “Here you have these little bubbles where you can add words and make it look like they’re talking—like in a cartoon. And these are different things to make the page fun.” She gave them a few stickers and die cuts. “I’m going into the kitchen, and if you need me just holler.”
Both girls were already delving into the supplies before she finished speaking. She shrugged and slipped through the doorway. In the kitchen, she started making cookies, forcing herself to forget her depressing concerns. In the background, the girls’ voices jumbled together in conversation, although she couldn’t make out their words.
The scent of cookies filled the air when she pulled them from the oven. As if she’d rung a fire alarm, Lucy and Peyton charged into the room, sniffing the air. She poured each one a glass of milk and set out a small plate of warm cookies. They slipped onto stools at the island and watched her make another batch.
“Mom.”
Kelsey turned and waited.
Lucy’s eyes shifted as if she were uncertain what to say.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, but I want to know when I’m going to start getting curves like Peyton.”
Peyton gave her a poke.
The question caught her off guard, and Kelsey stood a second without knowing what to say. She licked her lips. “Peyton’s a year older, so you’ll get more curves in another year.” She pointed to Lucy’s slender waist. “See, you have curves starting already.”
She gazed at herself a moment before raising her head. “The day school let out, a boy flirted with Peyton. He told her he’d miss her during the summer.”
“You weren’t supposed to say anything, Lucy.” Peyton jammed her fists into her waist. “I’m not going to tell you anything again.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “But this is my mom. I thought you meant not to tell your dad.”
Peyton huffed while Kelsey got her bearings. So this was the problem. Boys. Her mind spun. “Maybe the boy just wants to be a friend, Peyton. They’re not always flirting.”
She looked down at her lap. “He told me I was pretty.”
Pretty. Kelsey swallowed. “That’s a nice compliment. Do you think he’s handsome?”
“Sort of.”
“See. He did more than think it. He told you.” She bit her lip. Yes, she was a mother, but she was new at this. Inadequate. “Your dad would know more about how boys think.” She pictured Ross wanting to chase the boys away with a shovel. The image made her grin.
“I heard girls talking in class about things, but I don’t think Dad knows about them or else he doesn’t want to tell me.”
A knot formed in her stomach. “It’s hard for a father to talk with his daughter about personal things and the changes she goes through.”
“But who’ll tell me so I know it’s right?” Peyton’s eyes searched hers.
Kelsey grasped her wavering common sense. She pulled up a stool and grabbed a cookie. Anything to delay her response. Her mind worked overtime until she’d organized her thoughts. “Would you like me to explain some things to you, Peyton?”
She nodded, a grateful look spread across her face.
“Mom, what about me?”
“You’re old enough, too, Lucy.” She drew in a breath. “I’ll explain a few things and then if you have questions I’ll try to answer them.”
She sent up a quick prayer and began. The girls didn’t flinch nor did their eyes waver. They seemed to drink in what she explained, and when her mind had run dry, she paused. “Do you understand?”
They both nodded, but she read Peyton’s expression and knew a question was coming. “And that’s going to happen to me someday.”
“Soon, Peyton. You’re growing up fast so don’t be afraid when it happens. It’s natural.”
Lucy leaned forward. “And then she can have babies, right?”
Babies. Kelley’s lungs drained. “Yes, God had all this happen so when a woman gets married and has a husband to be the father of the baby, her body will have everything she needs.”
A faint frown settled on Lucy’s brow. “I can have babies, too, in another year maybe.”
“Lucy, the Bible tells us to be chaste until we have a husband who can be the father.”
“What’s chaste?”
Her shoulders slumped. Chaste. Another way to phrase it would have been better. She stared at Lucy, her mind tumbling. Get yourself out of