When Mercy Rains (35 page)

Suzanne

The doctor ordered Paul to three days of rest to let his back heal. Mother’s worry ended when Paul assured them he hadn’t been hurt working in her house, but Alexa remained distraught over the situation. Suzanne questioned her, but she would only say she felt bad for him.

Although Suzanne wished the kitchen renovation didn’t have to be postponed, she appreciated the opportunity to interview potential caretakers for her mother without having to deal with the construction noise.

Of the four candidates who drove out to the farm to meet Mother, talk with Suzanne about the position, and ask questions, the one who seemed the most interested in the job was also the one Mother liked the least. “She reminds me of an eager puppy—far too bouncy and chipper. She grated on my nerves,” Mother claimed. Although Suzanne wanted to argue because the woman was qualified and willing to make the drive to Arborville, she had to agree with Mother’s assessment. Her overly cheerful behavior seemed a bit over the top to be sincere and made Suzanne uncomfortable.

Both she and Mother liked another applicant named Connie. Middle-aged with an unflappable nature and calm demeanor, the woman seemed a perfect fit. But she expressed concern about the drive from Pratt and said she would have to give it some thought. They parted with the agreement she would call no
later than mid-June with a decision, and if someone else came along in the meantime, she would understand.

Consequently, Suzanne was left still searching. Thursday evening after she helped Mother bathe and prepare for bed, she borrowed Alexa’s phone and curled into the corner of the sofa to look through the applicants again in the hopes she’d missed one. As she squinted to read the documents on the three-inch screen, Alexa came in and plopped down next to her feet.

“Mom?”

Focused on the application, Suzanne murmured, “Hmm?”

Alexa bumped her knee. “Mom.”

She sent a quick look over the top of the phone. The serious expression on her daughter’s face captured her full attention. “What?”

“Is Mr. Aldrich coming to work tomorrow?”

Suzanne smiled and set the phone aside. “Honey, I’m sure his injury wasn’t bad enough to warrant all your worrying. Clete said he plans to be here tomorrow, and he’ll work Saturday, too, to make up for the time he missed.”

Alexa blew out a sigh. “I’m glad.”

Suzanne lifted the phone again.

“But, Mom?”

Lowering her feet to the floor, Suzanne shifted to face Alexa. “What is it?”

“I just wondered …” Alexa bit the corner of her mouth for a moment. “Did Uncle Clete tell you how Mr. Aldrich got hurt?”

Suzanne shrugged. “No. He just said it didn’t happen on the job.”

Alexa sat on in brooding silence, her narrowed gaze locked on something across the room.

Suzanne placed her hand on her daughter’s knee. “Alexa, what is bothering you? Your concern for Mr. Aldrich is very sweet, but it seems a little out of place. After all, you hardly know the man.” She didn’t intend to scold, but neither did she want to encourage Alexa to develop a relationship with Paul. Nothing good could come of it.

“Maybe I don’t, but …” Alexa tipped her head and peeked at Suzanne through her heavy fringe of eyelashes. “How well do you know him?”

“We …”—Suzanne forced a light laugh—“grew up together. We were friends. Of course, that was a long time ago.”

“Yeah.” Alexa crunched her brow, still pinning her mother with a thoughtful look. “Mom, on Monday morning when I went out to the barn to tell Uncle Clete I was ready to go to the paint store, I found him and Mr. Aldrich rolling on the barn floor, fighting.”

Suzanne drew back in surprise. “Are you serious?”

Alexa nodded. “I’m pretty sure that’s how Mr. Aldrich got hurt.”

Suzanne covered her mouth with her hand, stunned. No wonder Alexa had been quiet. What an awful thing to witness.

“Mr. Aldrich told me they were fighting about something that happened a long time ago, but he wouldn’t tell me what.”

Ice water seemed to fill Suzanne’s veins.

“And Uncle Clete told me I should ask you about it. That it was your place to tell me. I thought that was a little odd, but Mr. Aldrich agreed and even said he’d pray for me to find the right time to ask you about it.” Alexa sucked in a breath and blew it out in a noisy rush. “So what happened, Mom? What were they fighting about?”

It was Suzanne’s turn to fall silent. She had no idea what to say.

Alexa waited while the steady ticktock of Dad’s old key-wound clock seemed to grow louder with each second. A full minute passed before Alexa spoke again, her voice strained and low. “I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit. Wondering. And I kind of put things together in my mind. Can I tell you what I think?”

Suzanne, fearful of what would come next, refused to answer.

Alexa went on as if she’d received approval. “I think maybe Clete attacked Mr. Aldrich because he was the one who got you pregnant. Am I right?”

Shame roiled in Suzanne’s middle, melting the ice water and bringing it to a boiling point. Although her daughter’s tone held no recrimination, only a
genuine desire to know, she couldn’t find the strength to speak of that painful time. In lieu of words, a low moan emerged from her throat.

Alexa gripped her hand. Her fingers felt as hot as the bonfire they’d enjoyed only a few nights ago. Such a pleasant, relaxing night—a night of peaceful settling in together with her family, giving her a false sense of security. If Alexa discovered the truth, she’d never know peace again.

Suzanne pulled loose and clutched her hands together in her lap.

Tears flooded Alexa’s eyes. She leaned in, her face beseeching. “Mom, please tell me. I know you told me my father wasn’t here in Arborville, and if Mr. Aldrich is the one, then you must have lied to me.”

Disappointment showed in her daughter’s face and voice—a disappointment brought on by Suzanne’s duplicity. Pain stabbed her chest with such ferocity she could barely take a breath.

“Please tell me the truth now.” Alexa’s dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Am I right about why they were fighting?”

The need to escape became too great to ignore. Suzanne bolted from the sofa and charged for the staircase. But something made her stop and look back at Alexa. The anguish in her daughter’s expression pierced her anew. Alexa wanted the truth. The Bible instructed believers to be truthful. But the truth would hurt Alexa, hurt Paul, hurt her mother and brother and sisters and even the extended family. She couldn’t tell the truth. God, who knew all and understood all, surely knew why she had to keep her secret, didn’t He?

Alexa had guessed part of it. Suzanne wouldn’t outright lie and tell her she was wrong. But neither would she divulge every bit of the truth she’d held to herself for more than nineteen years. Truth, yes, but the whole truth? Absolutely not. Not even in a court of law.

She held her arms open, and with a little cry Alexa dashed to her. She held her daughter close, the way she had when Alexa was a toddler in need of comforting. She stroked Alexa’s hair, pressed her lips to her temple, and finally took her face in her hands. Her courage gathered, she whispered raggedly, “Yes, honey. He’s the one. And I beg you … don’t ask me about it again.”

Alexa

Mom released her and darted up the stairs. Alexa stood at the bottom of the staircase and stared into the shadowy landing, too stunned to move. When she’d offered her speculation, she’d half expected Mom to say her active imagination had carried her away again. To instead have her suspicion confirmed left Alexa weak and reeling.

She didn’t think she could manage the stairs, so she stumbled back to the sofa and dropped onto the faded cushions. The question that had plagued her from the time she was old enough to understand their family was different from others was now answered. She could replace the nameless, faceless image in her mind with Paul Aldrich, a tall dark-haired man with brown eyes and a warm smile.

But with the knowledge came a rush of new questions. Why hadn’t Grandmother and Grandfather insisted Mr. Aldrich do the honorable thing and marry Mom? Why had they instructed Mom to give the baby away? Were they trying to protect themselves from humiliation, or were they trying to protect Mom from something else?

She whispered into the quiet room. “Did they send Mom away to shield her from … Dad?” She sampled the title. Somehow it didn’t settle well. Not yet. It was too new, too unfamiliar. She’d need some time to adjust to it, to decide if she wanted to pursue a father-daughter relationship. Sadness sagged her shoulders. As much as she’d longed to know her father, now only uncertainty gripped her.

Her grandparents had separated Mom from the boy who’d impregnated her. Mom’s tearful instruction to never speak of the subject again, the fact that she’d lied to Alexa earlier when asked if her father was in Arborville, the secrecy surrounding her conception and birth, and her uncle’s violent behavior toward Mr. Aldrich made her wonder if he’d not always been the pleasant, kind person he seemed to be today.

She pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, huddling into a small ball. Had he, at one time, hurt her mother in some way?

The troublesome question followed her up the stairs and rolled through her dreams. By morning Alexa had made a decision. She wouldn’t ask Mom for the details of her relationship with Mr. Aldrich. Nor would she ask Grandmother or Uncle Clete. But she would satisfy her curiosity. Somehow. No matter how long it took.

After a simple breakfast of instant oatmeal and juice, she started the percolator and then penned a note for her mother.
Spending the morning in the summer kitchen. Don’t worry. I ate something and I’m fine—just feel like being alone. It’s a girl thing
. She added a smiley face and left the note on the dining room table where she knew Mom would find it. Then she headed outside.

Her sandals were wet from dew by the time she reached the summer kitchen, so she kicked them off and left them on the stoop. She propped the door open and then opened the north and south windows to allow a cross breeze. It was pleasant now, but as the sun crept higher, the temperature would rise. Eventually she hoped to cook out here, but she had no desire to cook herself. Too bad the little house was no longer hooked to a power line—she’d drag out the fan from her bedroom. Getting electricity would be the first item on her to-do list for the summer kitchen.

Armed with her smartphone, paper, and pencil, she sat at the table and began creating a renovation plan. She’d need contractors to take care of the big things like plumbing, electricity, painting, and reshingling the exterior. Those jobs would eat up most of her budget. So she’d have to be thrifty in fixing up the interior. She wasn’t worried. Growing up in a single-parent household, she’d learned to shop at secondhand stores, flea markets, and garage sales. She loved scoring a good bargain, and as she sketched out her plans, her excitement grew.

Not only would the summer kitchen become a cottage getaway for her and Mom when they came to visit Grandmother—because they
would
come to visit every year from now on if she had anything to say about it—but it would
give her an excuse to spend time with Mr. Aldrich. He was a carpenter. He knew every contractor in the area. He would become her go-to guy. And as she spent time with him, asking him questions about renovations and decorating and designing a small but efficient bathroom, she would get to know him. As a worker, but also as a man. And, eventually, as a father.

In time, when they were comfortable with each other—when she felt secure enough—she would come right out and ask what she needed to know. She lifted her head from her notebook and voiced the most pressing question. “Mr. Aldrich, why didn’t my mother’s family allow you to be part of my life?”

The border collie, Pepper, set up a raucous barking. Alexa’s pulse skipped a beat. She rose and darted to the door. Sure enough, Pepper was chasing Mr. Aldrich’s truck up the lane. The pickup rolled to a stop next to Uncle Clete’s pickup. Pepper, still barking, circled the truck, her tail wagging as fast as a hummingbird beating its wings.

Both the driver and passenger doors opened, and Mr. Aldrich and his son climbed out. Pepper attacked Danny, leaping and licking and barking all at once. Danny’s giggles carried all the way across the yard, and Alexa couldn’t help smiling.

Mr. Aldrich gave the dog’s neck a few scratches before turning toward the house. Alexa ducked back in case he looked in her direction—she didn’t want to be caught spying on him, but it warmed her to see his kindness toward that annoying, long-haired mutt. She gave him enough time to get inside before peering out again.

Danny had located a stick, and he gave it a mighty throw, hollering, “Git it, girl!” Pepper took off in a black-and-white blur. She snatched up the stick in her mouth and whirled, but instead of carrying it to Danny, she raced toward the wheat fields. Danny charged after her. “Pepper, you crazy dog! You come back here!”

Alexa held her breath and hid in the shadows until the dog zipped by with her ears flapping and long fur waving. Danny pounded behind her, continuing to call fruitlessly for the dog to come back. He came to a halt at the edge of the
yard and plunked his fists on his hips. “Fine then! I didn’t wanna play with you anyway!”