Masquerade (20 page)

Pounding on the back door. Every muscle in her body ached, it seemed. She sat up and reached for her robe. Lowering her feet to the floor, she slipped on a pair of terry cloth slippers and padded to the utility room. Should she answer the door? Might be that axe murderer. Or was it a strangler? She shuddered. Gingerly, she parted the curtain, shook her head. Nobody out there. Strange.

Something pink caught her eye. She pressed her forehead to the glass pane and studied the stoop. What in

the world?

Tugging her robe tighter around her, she slowly opened the door. She glanced to the right, then to the left. Nobody.

Across the driveway, another door opened and out charged the neighbor’s German shepherd who studied her from behind a chain-link fence. The canine barked a couple times, swished his tail back and forth, panted.

She kneeled and fingered the white and pink roses in the milk glass vase. A floral card simply read, “From a Secret Admirer.”
Momentary excitement fluttered through her stomach as she turned and walked back into the house. She set the vase on the kitchen table. Who would do this? Barbara? Maybe trying to make amends after their uncomfortable discussion in the car yesterday.

A gray cloud settled over the thought. What if the killer left the flowers? Maybe this was his way of alluring his next victim. His calling card. Her mouth went dry.

Saturday to-do list: Visit the hardware store and hire a handyman to install deadbolts on both doors.

###

A week later during a teacher work day, Celeste ate lunch in her classroom.

“Did you hear about the chain saw murderer on the loose?” Sitting across from Celeste, Lorna bit into her sandwich.

Celeste took a sip of hot tea from her thermos. “Strangler.”

“Strangler? Hmm . . . I thought the paper said chain

saw. Hope there’s not two killers on the run.”

“Lorna, please.”

“You been losing sleep over this thing?”

“Not exactly. But it’s certainly disconcerting to think a madman might be outside your door.”

“Better than a madman
inside
your door. My ex was no pussy cat. Whew, the temper on that guy.”

Celeste stabbed at her salad. “Well, I’m glad I got the hardware store man to install the deadbolts on my doors. Makes me feel safer, you know?”

Lorna paused mid-chew. “Still, if someone really wanted to get inside, he could always enter through a window. These nuts know how to do that. Why, how can you be so sure the hardware guy isn’t a criminal?” Her eyes narrowed. “We really don’t know, do we?”

On the verge of a bad case of indigestion, Celeste pressed a hand to her chest. She dare not mention the roses and encourage Lorna’s overactive imagination. Still, she’d love to know who left them on her doorstep.

She studied the other teacher who licked her finger and dabbed at chip crumbs littering a piece of tin foil. Did Lorna leave the vase? Not likely. Her colleague could do some pretty off-the-wall stuff, but even Lorna wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave a note with the words, “From Your Secret Admirer.”

Lorna crumpled the foil into a ball and aimed it toward the trash can. “Whoosh! Two points.” She kissed her fingers, flung them into the air. “I’m so good I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Celeste shot her a wry smile.

Lorna smacked the table. “Now that’s what I like to see. You need to smile more, girl. You have beautiful teeth. See these.” She pointed to her crooked incisors. “I’d get them fixed if I had the money. Guess my sparkling personality will have to cover for my lack of looks.”

“Right.” Celeste smiled again.

Lorna raised her eyebrows and nodded. A mischievous grin inflated her already full cheeks. “So, other than axe murderers”—eyes wide, she wiggled her fingers in the air—“what’s on your mind these days?”

She crossed her arms, chewed the inside of her cheek.

Lorna leaned forward, elbows on the table, and plunked her chin on top of her cupped hands. “Ah, got secrets, do we?”

Celeste kneaded the tension from her shoulders.

“Come on, come on, you’re holding out on me.”

“You know anything about a single woman adopting a baby?” She lowered her hands to her lap.

“Are you talking about the article in the
Schreiber Times
this morning?” Lorna sat back and kicked off her loafers, releasing the faint odor of sweaty nylons. “The one where the seventy-year-old single grandmother wanted to adopt the kid from Russia? Interesting story. Can’t imagine wanting to adopt at seventy, but to each her own, I guess.”

“No, I didn’t read that article. I just wondered if you knew the state regulations on single parent adoptions. I know you considered adoption at one time, so I thought you might know.”

              “Why the sudden interest?”

“Just curious.”

Lorna pursed her lips and nodded. “Right.”

“Is it even possible?”

Lorna shrugged. “Yeah, it’s possible. From my research, it seems anywhere from four to thirty-four percent of adoptions are by single parents, mostly women. They typically adopt older children, sometimes minority or handicapped kids.” She squeezed her nose, then rested her hand on her cheek. “Most applicants reveal strong emotional maturity and ability to handle frustration. They also tend to be independent but enjoy a supportive network of relatives. However, statistics do indicate that single applicants tend to have more challenges than couples have completing their adoptions.”

A spark of hope squared her shoulders. Minus the supportive network, Celeste fit the profile. And she couldn’t think of any reason why her attempt to adopt Lily would be unsuccessful. Given the Millers’ financial situation, it didn’t seem likely they’d be able to keep the child. The way she looked at it, she’d be doing them a favor. Lily would belong to someone they knew and trusted.

“Your eyes are sparkling. You’re up to something.”

She took a deep breath, exhaled. “I want to adopt Lily.”

“Adopt Lily?”

“Yes, adopt Lily.”

Have you given this much thought? I mean, it’s one

thing to teach and care for these kids here every day, but to take them home with you, well, that’s a major commitment. A lifelong commitment. You really up for that?”

“It’s just one little girl, and yes, I think I am . . . I know I am.”

“What makes you so sure? Joe’s only been gone six months. This could be grief talking, Celeste. Be careful. You’re not in the frame of mind to make a major decision like adoption, especially as a single woman. Give yourself time and space to adjust.”

“Time and space are eating me alive. Lily gives me purpose.”

“You have a room full of purpose.” She spread her arms, indicating the children who typically sat at the tables.

Celeste lowered her head. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s this about? Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you trying to ease some kind of guilt trip or something?”

Her head shot up, and she worked her jaw.

“Lily can’t take Joe’s place. As much as I love my two girls, they can’t take the place of a man. No siree.” Lorna sighed. “And it’s hard to rear children as a single mom. My ex made a lousy husband, but he’s a great father, I’ll give him that. And the girls adore him. Statistics or no, kids are better off with two parents, a mother
and
a father. They need the contribution and insight that both male and female can bring into their lives.”

Lorna didn’t know Celeste’s parents.  Some contri-

bution. Conspiring to end Celeste’s baby’s life. A familiar rage boiled her blood.

“There’s always Big Brothers. I’m sure something would work out for some sort of male influence in Lily’s life,” Celeste said, hoping to convince Lorna, but also trying to reassure herself.

Their attention shifted to the door as several teachers streamed through the opening, Barbara and Amelia among them. After cleaning up the rest of their lunch debris, they joined the group at another table. While the center director droned on about teacher goals, student documentation, and lesson plans, Celeste replayed her conversation with Lorna. She’d expect Sonya and Barbara to hold a conservative view of adoption, but Lorna?

They might as well smash a pillow over her face, ‘cause they sure were snuffing the life out of her. Lily was her best chance at living again. Why couldn’t these women see that?

Last bulletin board changed to welcome the spring season and room in order, Celeste drove home. The house appeared all right when she pulled into the driveway. No mystery bouquet on the stoop. Nerves flip-flopped through her stomach when she stepped into the dingy garage and shut the car door. Given the array of clutter—ladder, tools, tires, garden supplies, and boxes—it would be easy for someone to hide. She quickly snapped on the light. Joe’s bike rested against the back wall next to some shelving he had built for storage.

As  she  worked her way to the back of the garage,

she paused and picked up a pair of Joe’s garden gloves lying on a wooden table. Her heart lurched when a couple of blue jays flitted past the window, squawking at one another. Hand on her chest, she breathed deeply, then released a gush of air. A rich oily smell filled her nostrils.

Placing the gloves back on the table as Joe had left them, Celeste moved to the bike. Tears sprang to her eyes. He’d been so proud of his thrifty purchase. Her gaze traveled to a shelf. Mouse traps. An idea teased at the edge of her mind.

With fresh vigor, she scooped the traps off the shelf and charged toward the house. After setting the traps on the steps, she dashed into the kitchen and retrieved some masking tape from a junk drawer. Back outside, she looped a strip of tape on the bottom of each wooden trap. She only had six traps to accommodate nine windows, so she’d have to choose wisely. Working her way around the house, she set each trap and then stuck one on a window ledge.

“There.” She brushed her hands together, plopped them on her hips. “See if that killer messes with me. And if these wooden traps don’t work, there’s always those new glue strips.” A sinister smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She stifled a laugh, then let it rip. However unorthodox, Joe would’ve loved her comical attempt at home security.

She spun the masking tape around her finger and walked back to the garage. The bike beckoned her. When was the last time she’d ridden? With the harsh winter all but past, she felt like getting outside. She maneuvered the

bike to the side of the house, locked the door, and slid the key in her zippered jacket pocket.

The gravel crunch evoked an image of Joe riding off in the morning to work. She fought back tears at the bittersweet memory. Like robin song in a new season, the present called to her. As she pedaled, she imagined herself racing beside Joe on the alley that bordered their backyard. She flew with the wind, pedaling faster until her thighs ached. A good ache. The crisp March air stung her cheeks, whipped her hair around her face. Every pore felt alive.

Fresh determination seeped into her spirit. So what if Barbara and Lorna thought adopting Lily was a bad idea? She’d at least begin the process; stir the pot. In reality, she knew so little about the child’s background. Were her birth parents still alive? And if so, why had they given Lily over to the state?

So many questions; she hardly knew where to begin. Then an idea occurred to her. Since tomorrow was Saturday, she’d give Sonya a call.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Tommy broke free from Sonya’s hand and toddled down the mossy path toward the tool shed. Stopping in front of a dogwood tree, he angled his head back to watch a cardinal sitting on a bare branch. His jacket hood inched off his head. Pink-cheeked, his breath caught in the air.

“Pretty bird, huh?” Sonya snugged her sweater around her chest and stooped by her little boy. His gaze tracked the cardinal as it flew from the red twig to a nearby Forsythia bush.

A daffodil shoot caught her eye, and a surge of excitement warmed her heart. She sensed her depression lifting as the spring curtain rose and winter made its exit. How she loved to work in the soil, tending the flower and vegetable beds. She stood, took Tommy’s chubby hand, and started back toward the house.

The back door opened and Lily stepped onto the patio, her grin revealing two missing front teeth. “You ready go, Sonny?”

Sonya paused. Was she wrong to let Lily go to her teacher’s house for the day? Sam said it’d be good for the little girl and give Sonya some breathing room. Still, she worried   that  she  was  slowly  losing  the  child  to   Mrs.

Tatem. She didn’t like feeling jealous, like she had to compete for Lily’s affection.

Give me strength, Lord. Grace to love and let go.

Truth was, with Sam’s new employment, their prospects for adopting Lily brightened, at least according to their last communication with the child’s caseworker. But were they doing the right thing? Pastor’s words often entered her mind:
I want you to honestly pray about whether you’re supposed to foster parent.
But adoption would be different, wouldn’t it? They would stop fostering after they adopted Lily. It would all work out. Six children. She could handle that.

Sonya approached Lily while Tommy darted after a ball wedged underneath a metal deck chair. She lifted the little girl into her arms, used her thumb to rub a patch of dried oatmeal from the corner of the child’s mouth. “So, all ready for your big day with Teacher?”

“Yep.” Lily’s jack-o-lantern grin only made her cuter. “But I’ll always love you, Sonny.” She planted a big kiss on Sonya’s cheek.

She squeezed the child, burrowed her face into her soft jacket. “I know, honey. I know you will.” Then gazing into Lily’s eyes, Sonya said, “Even if we find your forever mommy?”

“You my forever mommy.” Lily’s brow knit into a frown. “Don’t you think so, Sonny?”

Sonya smiled and called for Tommy. Time would only tell. 

###

“Come in. Please, come in.” Celeste stood at the back door and fanned her arm for Sonya and Lily to enter.

“Thank you.” Sonya held Lily by one hand and a foil-wrapped loaf in the other. They stepped over the threshold and followed Celeste into the kitchen.

The tea kettle whistled, and she reached to turn the knob on the range. “Have a seat at the table, ladies.”

“Ladies.” Lily giggled and placed her palm over her mouth. 

Celeste ruffled the child’s hair. “Some apple juice for Lily?”

“That would be fine.” Sonya smiled and smoothed the back of her skirt before taking a seat. Lily climbed into a chair across from Sonya and plopped her chin on the table. Eyes wide, she licked her lips. She swung her feet, occasionally hitting the table leg. 

So small for her age.

Sonya frowned at Golden Girl and reprimanded her with a shake of her head
. “
We brought some homemade zucchini bread.”

“Wonderful. I’ll slice a few pieces.” Celeste opened a drawer and retrieved a knife, then stepped to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of juice. She set the items on the table, retrieved two mugs of hot water with raspberry zinger tea bags. She served up portions of sliced bread onto dessert plates.

Sonya rifled through her bulky handbag and pulled out a sippy cup. She poured some juice into the cup and set it in front of Lily.

Celeste  slipped  into  a  chair  positioned  between

her two visitors. “I really appreciate you allowing Lily to come over today on such short notice.” She broke off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm . . . good.”

With pouty lips, Lily eyed her. “But we have to thank Jesus first.” She had often insisted on this practice before school lunch as well, but in that case, Celeste had suggested she say a quiet prayer to God.

              Celeste paused mid-chew and glanced at Sonya. The woman looked like an ice sculpture.

              “This is Mrs. Tatem’s home,” Sonya said, thawing around the edges. “We’ll follow what she does, sweetie.”

              “Quiet prayer?” Lily bowed her head.

              Celeste’s cheeks burned. “Sonya, would you mind saying grace?”

              “Certainly.” Sonya’s eyes flashed an apology.

              After the prayer, Lily happily dug into her bread and juice, off in her own little world it seemed.

              “I have some encouraging news.” Sonya took a sip of tea. “Sam has a temp job now and I’ve taken in some alteration work. It appears we’re holding steady with our finances, nothing stellar mind you, but enough to keep our heads above water. Enough to keep the child welfare agency satisfied, at least for now.”

              “That’s great,” she said. But she couldn’t keep the smile from melting off her face.

              “And since Lily has been with us so long, the agency is discussing the possibility of going ahead and letting us apply for adoption.”

              Celeste’s  heart  hammered  against her ribcage as

Sonya continued. “They understand how unrealistic it is to think someone else would ever want to adopt the child.” Face turning pink, Sonya pressed her hand to her lips. “Lily, are you done with your snack?”

              The child nodded and grinned through the crumbs clinging to her mouth and chin. Sonya rose and moved to Lily’s side. “Do you have a wet cloth, Mrs. Tatem?”

              “Sure.” She scooted her chair back and reached for the dishrag. She’d replace it with a clean one later.

              After Sonya wiped Lily’s face, she retrieved a doll from her bag and handed it to the child. “Could Lily play in the living room for a few minutes?”

              While Celeste was anxious to get on with her special day with Golden Girl, she did want to hear what Sonya had to share. “Certainly. Here, Lily, follow me.”

She peeked over her shoulder. The child tottered after her as she gripped the blond-haired doll with her good arm. She led Lily to the sofa and knelt in front of her. “I’ll just be a few minutes, and then we’ll go to the duck pond. How about that?”

Like petals opening in the morning sun, Lily’s eyes widened. “Oh boy!” She bounced her doll on the couch.

“Be right back.” Celeste winked and moved into the kitchen where Sonya was finishing up her piece of bread.

“Thanks.” Sonya wiped her hand on a napkin. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m typically very careful about what I say in front of Lily. She’s smarter than I give her credit for. I never want her to think she’s not wanted.”

“So, I don’t understand.”  Celeste lowered onto her

chair. “How would it be possible for you to adopt her if you’re struggling to keep her as a foster child?”

“The state welfare agency realizes that a special needs child is hard to place. Given our longevity with Lily, they think we’re her best option for a permanent, loving, and caring home. We’ve certainly tried to demonstrate that.” Her eyes brightened. “The encouraging part is, the upfront costs and fees to adopt Lily are minimal, and we may be reimbursed for the expense.” She leaned forward. “It gets even better, we may have access to both federal and state adoption subsidies to care for Lily’s ongoing physical and mental challenges.”

“I’m assuming this is all true as long as you obtain and maintain stable employment.”

Sonya sank back in her chair. “Yes . . . yes that’s the fragile thread on which all this hopeful news rests. But, it is a glimmer of hope.”

Celeste produced a weak smile. Her heart was torn. She wanted to support this woman who obviously carried a loving mother’s heart, not only for her own children, but for a needy child. Yet, she longed for Lily. Perhaps she should tell Sonya about Lily’s Valentine. It did seem odd that the child would ask her to be her mother. But then this little girl loved everybody. She’d probably said the same thing to Barbara and Amelia.

Clearly, Lily loved Sonya and the family. After all, she’d lived with them for years. They interacted so well together. Maybe it was cruel, downright selfish to try and take Golden Girl away from this nurturing family. She had no  right  to  interfere, to  cause  more pain.  Yet her heart

ached within her.

She bulldozed the mental and emotional agony away. No questions about the child’s family of origin right now. For today, she’d just have fun, she and Lily together.

Sonya reached for her purse. “I better get going. Got a few errands to run, then I need to get back to Sam. He’s watching the other children, you know, but he leaves for work at noon.”

“Of course.” Celeste rose and followed Sonya to the living room.

“I’ll be back this afternoon, Lily.” She stooped and kissed the child.

Lily gave Sonya a one-arm hug and a kiss on the lips. “Bye, Sonny.” She picked up her doll and studied its face, trying to pattern her own features after the toy.

“It’ll probably be around four-thirty, if that’s okay.” Sonya followed Celeste to the back door.

“That will be fine. I’m looking forward to our day together. And don’t worry—”

“Oh my, I won’t worry. She’s in the best of hands.” Sonya cocked her head and leaned in to Celeste. “Thanks so much for doing this. It’s nice to have a break once in a while.”

Celeste held the door open. “Enjoy your day.” She watched Sonya step outside and into her van. She bit her lip and closed the door. Sonya was a nice lady, sincere and warm. It’d be so much easier to pursue adopting Lily if this woman were cold and careless.