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Richard sat in the President's office waiting. The office was in the President's home, and was entered by way of a living room, and kitchen, down a flight of wooden stairs, and into a basement apartment where missionaries just entering or exiting the field often stayed while waiting for transportation. 

The office was austere, a room with a window. It sported a few charts on the wall detailing where other missionaries were placed within the mission boundaries. There was a large framed picture of the First Presidency, and another of the Savior, another of Joseph Smith. 

A mosquito buzzed annoyingly until Richard saw it land on the wall and hit his leaflet on it, dropping its carcass into the waste basket.

Behind him President Cannon chuckled, shut the door behind him and as he shook Richard's hand, thanked him for protecting him from yet another blood-sucking pest. They visited for a minute about missionary issues and progress, then opened their discussion with a word of prayer. 

Richard's companion was left upstairs to read while Richard met with the President and no one wanted to detract from real work time. The President's eyes were very compassionate as he gazed at Richard's face. He saw the face of a young man who had been through hell, a man who had learned the true meaning of service, the true motivation behind love, and the reality of pure religion. 

He was impressed with Richard, and loved him like a son.

"What is on your mind, Elder?" he finally began, steepling his fingers over his desk calendar easily.

Richard sighed and looked away and then up at the picture of the Savior and then back at his lap. His hands were tense on the arm rest of the plain wooden chair he sat on. "I'm having trouble concentrating. The work is good, the companion is great, but I am-- I don't know... distracted."

"Tell me what you hear from home."

Richard's eyes shot up. "Well, that's part of it, for sure." He said bluntly. "But not my immediate family. I mean, they're all good. I get regular letters from my brother Zack, from my mom and dad and from others, I'm okay, things are good."

The president cocked his head to one side. "And the other family?"

Richard's eyes snapped up. "Yeah." He said simply.

"Is she waiting for you, Richard? Has she committed to be your wife?"

"I believe so, yes, yes.... I know so. I mean we are not engaged or anything, but we've talked like we're going to spend the rest of eternity together."

"This is a change from the last time we spoke, what six months ago?"

"President, I've just got to tell you. Hear me out. I love the work, I want to do the work. I want to finish my mission honorably, it's very important to me and to Tracy. But well, here it is." He sighed and then looked up into those very compassion-filled eyes, and tried to smile. 

"She called me. It's been two weeks. She called and told me her mother and brother had committed suicide." 

The President's gasp of shock was another brick on Richard's tension wall. He shook his head, holding up his hand to still any comments. 

"There's more. She is taking care of Austin's sons for a month, and that's okay with me, except that I suddenly feel like it's a decision that Austin should have asked me about first. I know it's her decision, but suddenly I feel betrayed by Austin that he didn't ask me first. Stupid of me, that's not my place, but I can't stop thinking about it." 

He held up his hand again as the President seemed about to address this issue as well.

 "No, the worst is yet to come." He got out his cell phone and flipped it open and handed it to the president. He hit a couple of buttons and a picture appeared on the tiny screen. 

He knew that the President was gazing at a lovely little dark-eyed image. The itty bittiest smile, the flare of almost nonexistent eyebrows, the wisp of brown hair, the sudden almost flash of flaring porcelain nostril, the puff of rolled palm and curled fingers up by a little round chin. 

He saw the image from the President's view and knew what he was looking at before he handed it back to Richard with a very curious expression on his face. Richard had spent hours now staring at this image, memorizing it.

"This is...?" President Cannon asked politely.

Richard jutted his chin out. "My daughter."

President Cannon sat back in his swivel chair, falling further back than usual, his arms folded sternly across his chest as he closed his eyes and took in a deep cleansing breath, which Richard recognized as a means to give himself more time before answering. "Your daughter?"

"Tracy adopted her two weeks ago. Since we plan to be married after I get home, then she will be my daughter."

The President sat forward decisively. "Well, that's an interesting pickle. I don't think I've encountered that one before."

Richard shook his head with a self-deprecating laugh. "You haven't encountered Tracy McCaffrey either."

Now they were both laughing. "No, you're right, I haven't. And... she can't be my main concern here, Elder. So she adopted a little girl. That's all well and fine, and maybe when you get back you two can explore the wonderful world of parenting, and maybe not. My advice to you would be to put this aside for now. I even advise you to stop writing until after you have returned home. No more contact. You have not taken this role yet, and you need to focus not on what the future may or may not hold, but what is here and now. Here.... And now...."

"I try, President. I have tried. I've fasted and prayed to not think about her. Not Tracy, it's not Tracy... it's Kylie." He pounded his fist into the arm of the chair.

 "I dream about her." He finally said. "I dream about her all night long. There are three other children, President, three. Do I dream about them? No. Why her? Why can't I stop thinking about her?"

A slow smile spread across the president's face. "Well, when you and Tracy were together.... I realize you weren't really ever together, what with her marriage, etc. But when you knew her, the children she had were obviously someone else's weren't they? But this baby has no daddy other than the one you and she have given her tentatively. I believe you are feeling the stress of duty and responsibility that comes with parenting. In your mind, you are this child's father. She will rely on you for support and love and protection, and really, you're not there to give it right now, are you, Elder?"

Richard shook his head. "Is that all it is? You think if I send her money or something, this will go away?"

The president chuckled again. "No, son. This problem isn't going away... not if the course you are on is right and true. Then no, that little girl, and her sisters and brother, will be relying on you for the rest of their lives. But I want you to think what is the most important thing you can give them right now? If you go home and take care of them, financially, what message is that to them? Is the Lord first, or something else?"

"Money's not an issue." Richard mumbled.

The president shook his head. "Think about that."

"So, it's not going away?"

"I worry about my kids every day, son. I think about them, and I dream about them, and I plan for them, and I pray for them. You're in a pickle, but it isn't insurmountable, just smelly. You'll get through it." Then he turned serious eyes on him. "However, Elder Mann, nothing is for sure. Until you are kneeling across an altar in the Temple, holding that child in your combined arms, nothing is for sure. Please, keep in mind that the Lord's plans are always in order. There is an order to these things."

Richard could hear the echo of his and Tracy's previous words in his mind, and he stood up and extended his hand. "Thanks, President." He said, in genuine sincerity. "I think I have my answer."

"I think you already knew your answer." President Cannon answered with a smile.

*****