“You have a Wikipedia page, and a few places where your bio is mentioned. It’s not that hard to find.”
Huh. Sarah traced the stitching in the white leather couch. “Sometimes it seems like a different life.”
Staci nodded. “James, my husband, says the same about his time working in Africa. Maybe you and Dan should come over for dinner sometime. I bet you and James would have a lot in common.”
Maybe they would. “Thanks. I’ll mention it to Dan.”
Staci smiled.
A baby cried.
Sarah stiffened, then noticed Staci had also stilled, her smile fading.
“Are you okay?” she asked Staci.
Staci glanced behind her, then said in a lower voice, “I thought it was safe to come tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“Jackie said she’d leave the baby with Lincoln, but…” Staci bit her lip then looked at Sarah. “You don’t have a child, do you? Like a secret baby you’re keeping off social media that nobody knows about?”
Her heart panged. “No.”
Staci sighed. “This will make me sound like such a bad Christian, but sometimes I can’t stand being around women who seem to live in a baby bubble, especially when I,” she gulped, “when I have endometriosis and can’t fall pregnant.”
“I’m so sorry.” An overwhelming urge to comfort her saw Sarah hug her, then whisper, “The doctors told me after the car accident when my fiancé died that the surgeries meant that I’d never have children. I’ve since had three miscarriages, so I know how hard it is to struggle with envy.”
Staci clutched her tighter, and they stayed that way for a long moment, until the other room noise ceased, and Sarah realized how it must look for her to be hugging a near stranger like this. She gently pulled away, wiped her eyes. Saw Staci do the same.
“Everything okay over there?” Jackie asked.
“Yep,” Staci said, then added in a softer voice to Sarah, “You should talk about that on your podcast.”
She should. Why women felt a sense of shame in not fulfilling some people’s idea of womanhood was one of those hard things rarely talked about, especially as a Christian. How many people suffered from fertility issues, or suffered the pain of miscarriage in silence?
“I’m still figuring out how to get a godly perspective on this,” she admitted. “And how to talk about it when Dan wants to keep things private.”
Staci winced. “So that’s what you meant before.” She nodded. “I get it. I really do. You have to be real, but not too real. Vulnerability is hard, especially in this world of trolls.”
“You’re preaching to the choir here.”
“What are you two talking about?” Anna asked.
“Social media challenges,” Sarah said.
“And how she and James have missionary backgrounds, so might need to swap stories one day,” Staci added.
“You were a missionary?” Rachel asked.
“A missionary’s daughter,” Sarah corrected. Then was forced to explain what life was like in the highlands of Papua New Guinea.
“Wow, that sounds almost as rustic as the Lodge.”
“The what?” Sarah asked.
“Muskoka Ferns Lodge.” Anna shuddered.
“Last year’s scandal,” Rachel said. “The Lodge was supposed to be a place where high risk elderly people could live out their twilight years in beautiful Muskoka, but it was a scam.”
