The Offering by Angela Hunt Page A

speaks.” Amelia looked up, her eyes damp with pain. “Mama knows about our problem, but I don’t want her to hear us arguing. The frustrating thing is we both want a kid, but all this trying and waiting is driving us nuts.”
    â€œMaybe you two need to relax. Go on a vacation, take a second honeymoon. Have fun and don’t even think about getting pregnant.”
    Amelia gave me a sour smile. “Like we’ve never heard that before. ‘Relax,’ Mama says, ‘and it’ll happen. Wait for God to answer.’ Well, we’ve tried relaxing, and it hasn’t happened. We’ve tried taking my temperature every morning and Mario’s been wearing baggy underwear, which he despises. I’ve even asked Yaritza about old wives’ tales. I’ve prayed for a baby until I feel like I’m just repeating useless phrases, and I’ve even been tempted to get one of those talisman fertility candles. . . .”
    â€œDon’t waste your money on superstitious junk,” I whispered. “And I know God hears your prayers. He wouldn’t be God if he didn’t, right?”
    â€œMama says if I feel like I was meant to be a mother, he’s probably not saying no . He might be saying wait . But wait for what ?” Amelia swiped tears from her face, then crossed her arms and gazed into private space. “I’ve been waiting a long time. I’m twenty-seven, and I’m not getting any younger. I want to have kids while I still have enough energy to chase after them.” She sniffed when the bells on the front door jingled, then jerked her thumb toward the register. “You should get back in there.”
    â€œThat was probably your mother coming in.” I took a step closer and lowered my voice. “Have you thought about investigating other options? There’s in vitro fertilization and artificial insemination. You should talk to your doctor about other ways to have a baby.”
    â€œMario’s old-fashioned.” Amelia pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket, then blew her nose. “He will barely talk about this, and he won’t admit that any part of it could be his fault. If the doctor asks him to—” She shuddered. “Never mind. I think he’d cut off his nose before he’d go in for an exam. And those other things you mentioned are expensive. Our insurance would never cover those kinds of elective procedures.”
    The bells above the front door jangled again, and this time Amelia stepped away. “I’ve gotta get some cartons unpacked. Don’t mind me. There’s nothing you can do, anyway. And please don’t say anything about this to Gideon. Mario would die if he thought the men in the family knew he couldn’t get me pregnant.”
    Amelia’s heavy sorrow seemed to spread until it crossed the space between us and mingled with my own anxiety about a terror-filled future. During that awful moment, I wondered if darkness might manage to erase all the light in the world.

Chapter Six
    C hristmas finally arrived, complete with a chilly breeze that blew down from Canada and forced us to haul our sweaters out of storage. I think my cardigans were grateful to come out of the closet, and Marilee absolutely loved the fuzzy red sweater I bought her for Christmas and allowed her to open early. The pullover was a little big on her, but it had a treble clef embroidered on one side and a bass clef on the other, so she rolled up the ribbed cuffs and promised that it fit perfectly.
    Gordon and Yanela had brought many traditions with them from Cuba, but their love for the Catholic church’s nativity service topped the list. Out of respect for the elders, the entire family came together every Christmas Eve to celebrate the Misa del Gallo, or Mass of the Rooster, at St. Joseph’s Church. As usual, we paused in Mama Isa’s living room so Yanela could tell Marilee why midnight Mass was named