When Mercy Rains (4 page)

“I haven’t told her.”

“What?” Linda came to a halt, forcing Suzanne to stop, too. Her surprised expression changed to a disapproving glower. “Why ever not?”

“I told her my mother had been injured.” Alexa had clapped her hand to her mouth in horror when Suzanne shared how the three-hundred-pound bale of hay rolled from the transport trailer and pinned Mother to the ground. They both agreed God’s hands had sent the rains to soften the ground, giving the
slight cushion that prevented her from being crushed to death. Even so, her shattered bones and damaged nerves left her a paraplegic. “But I didn’t mention Clete wanting me to take care of her.”

“Suzanne, you’ve got to tell her.” Linda shook her head, emitting a little huff. “Alexa isn’t a child anymore. She’s a young woman, and whatever you decide to do will affect her. Go home and talk to your daughter. Give her a chance to pray for you and with you. Give her a chance to offer you some moral support. After all these years of you doing everything for her, let her do a little something for you. It’ll build her character.” Taking Suzanne by the shoulders, she turned her in the direction of the lockers. “Go home, Suzanne Zimmerman.”

Her head low, Suzanne began moving toward the exit.

Linda called after her, “And when you’ve finished talking to Alexa, get some sleep. Those raccoon eyes are liable to scare the patients.”

Alexa

Alexa inserted her key in the apartment door and let herself in. Humming, she dropped her jacket over the arm of a dining table chair and leaned against the counter to flip through the few envelopes she’d found in their mailbox. Two bills, an invitation to change their television service to a different company—silly, since they didn’t even have a television—and a coupon for a Mexican restaurant. Mom couldn’t eat Mexican because the spicy food gave her indigestion, so Alexa threw away both the coupon and the TV-service advertisement, then placed the bills in the little basket on the corner of the counter where Mom would be sure to see them when she got up.

She headed for her bedroom to change her spaghetti sauce–stained T-shirt—somehow she’d gotten splashed above the bib of her apron—but before she took three steps, a quiet voice stopped her.

“Alexa?”

Spinning toward the sound, she let out a gasp of surprise. The end-table lamp snapped on, bringing her mother’s form into plain view. Alexa pressed her palm to her chest and forced a laugh. “Mom, for heaven’s sake, you nearly scared me out of my skin. Why aren’t you in bed?”

Mom yawned. “I wanted to be where I’d hear you when you came in. Can you sit down for a minute?” She patted the sofa cushion beside her. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Sure.” After three days of near silence, Alexa welcomed the opportunity to talk. She seated herself sideways, tucking one foot beneath her, then placed her hand over her mother’s knee and tipped her head. “Is it bad? You’ve been awfully quiet the past few days. You’ve worried me.”

A frown pinched Mom’s face. “I’m sorry. I’ve been deep in thought, but I didn’t intend to worry you.”

Alexa shrugged, eager to put Mom at ease. “It’s okay. Maybe a little worry on my end is fair considering all the worrying you’ve done about me, huh?”

To her surprise, tears winked in Mom’s eyes. “You’ve never given me a reason to worry about you, Alexa. Yes, I’ve worried about not doing right by you, but you have been a delight from the first moment I held you in my arms. I’m so proud of the young woman you’ve become. Anyone would be blessed to have you for a daughter.”

Fear attacked, making her break out in a cold sweat. She gripped Mom’s knee hard. “Are you dying?”

Mom’s eyebrows shot upward. “Dying?”

“Are you sick? Is that why you’ve been quiet? Have you been trying to find a way to tell me? Well, I’m listening now—you can tell me. Please tell me.” Her lungs seemed incapable of pulling in a full draft of air, so she heaved in panicked little puffs.

“Alexa, honey, calm yourself.” Mom peeled Alexa’s hand from her knee and held it between her palms. “I’m not sick.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

Alexa slumped forward. “Oh, thank goodness. When you said …” She forced herself to draw a big breath and let it out slowly. Her imagination had run away with her again. But this time she’d had help. Why had Mom given that glowing little speech if she wasn’t sick or dying? “Then what is it?”

“Remember the letter that came from your uncle?”

Alexa sat quietly as Mom explained Uncle Clete’s request for Mom to come to Arborville and assume nursing duties for their wheelchair-bound mother. While she listened, her heart began a rapid
thump-thump-thump
of excitement, and she found it hard to stay in her seat. Mom was going to Arborville? Then Alexa would finally have the opportunity to meet her grandmother, her uncle, her aunts, and the rest of the family Mom had left behind.

Alexa blurted, “When are you going?”

Mom’s mouth dropped open. “You want me to go?”

Alexa threw her hands wide. “Why not?”

“I’d have to take a leave of absence from the hospital, give my church responsibilities to someone else, be apart from our friends, leave you here alone …”

Alexa drew back. “What do you mean, leave me here?”

“Your home is here. Your job is here. Everyone you know is here.” Mom bit her lower lip, her brow crinkling in either confusion or consternation—Alexa couldn’t be sure which. “You wouldn’t want to go there, would you?”

All the longings Alexa had carried from little girlhood welled up. She caught Mom’s hands and squeezed, trying to impress upon her how deeply she wanted this chance to know her family. Her father—Mom’s best-kept secret—and his family would probably never be known to her. But now she could meet Mom’s family and finally feel as if she belonged. “My job is just a job, biding my time until I can decide what I really want to do. This apartment is only home because you’re in it. Sure it’d be hard to be away from our friends at church and from Linda and Tom—I love them. But they aren’t family.”

How could she make Mom understand without hurting her? “I’m curious about your family.
My
family. I always have been. But when I asked you questions about them, I could tell it made you mad. Or sad.”

Mom lowered her head. “I’m sorry, honey.”

Alexa blew out a frustrated breath. “And now I’m making you sad again. Mom, please listen to me, okay?” She waited until her mother looked up and met her gaze. She spoke gently. “From the time I was a little girl, I’ve taken the … the snippets of information you’ve shared about your Old Order upbringing and painted these elaborate images in my head. Pictures of the farm, the people, the small, close-knit community.” The imagined scenes paraded through her mind again, making a grin tug at her cheek. She wanted to find out what it was like to be a part of it.

“I love you, Mom. You’re fantastic, and you’ve always given me security and love”—she pressed her hands to her aching chest—“but here, in the center of my soul, there’s this empty spot only a complete family can fill.” Her throat tightened and tears threatened. She didn’t want to crush her mother, but she had to know. So she gathered her courage and dared to ask the question she’d held inside for far too long. “How did you do it? How did you leave them? You are so important to me. I could never walk away from you and not come back—not even for days, let alone for years.”

Mom looked away, and the muscles in her jaw clenched. “You don’t know everything that happened, Alexa.”

Alexa’s heart hurt for her mom. Obviously the pain, although decades in the past, was still very much a part of her. “Of course I don’t. I wasn’t there. But I do know this …” She tipped sideways a bit, trying to make eye contact with her mother. “You gave me life. You’re my
mom
. No matter what, if you needed me, I’d be there.” Minutes passed in silence while Alexa held her mother’s limp hands and waited for her to speak.

Mom remained quiet so long she began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep sitting up. Then a soft chuckle left Mom’s lips. She turned toward Alexa. Tears slid down her cheeks, leaving their tracks behind. A wry smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Linda was right.”

“Linda’s always right. About what this time?”

“You’re growing up.”

For some strange reason, the comment made her want to cry. She sniffed hard.

“And I guess, when I can get the arrangements made, we’ll go to Arborville.”

Alexa threw her arms around Mom and let out a cry of exultation. “It’ll be great, Mom, you’ll see.” She could hardly wait to see her words proved true.

Suzanne

Suzanne inched up the narrow aisle of the JetBlue aircraft, her carry-on bag bumping the backs of her knees as she went. From behind her, Alexa released a happy sigh.

“Wow, Mom, it almost feels like a dream, doesn’t it?”

A dream? More like a nightmare. The past three weeks had been fraught with stress. She’d never imagined how many phone calls, written requests, and face-to-face meetings would be necessary to take a two-month leave from her life in Indiana. But she couldn’t stomp on Alexa’s happiness. Always much more bubbly than her reserved mother, Alexa had exhibited more enthusiasm about going to Kansas than anything else, ever. She flashed a quavery smile over her shoulder, which Alexa returned a hundredfold.

Suzanne passed the uniformed flight attendants who stood at the doorway thanking the passengers for utilizing their airline. Although she acknowledged their comments with only a slight nod, Alexa replied cheerfully.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for a great flight—my very first.”

The attendants laughed, and the taller of the pair said, “We hope it won’t be your last.”

“Me, too.”

In the tunnel leading to the terminal, Alexa eased to Suzanne’s side. Her shoulder bag swung wildly on its long strap, bumping Suzanne’s hip. “Do you
suppose there’ll be a welcome committee waiting for us? After all, you haven’t been home in … well, forever.” Alexa’s tinkling laughter spilled out. “Wouldn’t that be amazing? Your whole family out there waiting, holding up a big sign and balloons or flowers or something.”

Suzanne moved sideways to avoid another whack from Alexa’s overstuffed purse. She should have taken advantage of their lengthy flight time and shared the entire truth with Alexa. Her stomach churned. If—and it was a mighty big “if”—her entire family waited, at least one of her long-held secrets would be revealed quickly and she could stop worrying about her family’s reaction to Alexa’s presence.

She fixed a serious look on her daughter, one she’d perfected over the years in an attempt to squelch her abundant exuberance. “Don’t get your hopes up, Alexa. We’re arriving on a weekday afternoon. People have jobs and responsibilities. It’s very unlikely any of my family is here. They’ve probably sent a driver to retrieve us.”

“Oh.” For a moment, Alexa’s bright countenance dimmed. But then in typical form, she gave a cavalier shrug and grinned. “No matter. Once we reach Arborville, there’ll be a reunion. I’m sure of it.”

They rounded the final bend leading to the reception area, and Suzanne caught Alexa’s arm, guiding her away from the stream of others making their way to baggage claim. She looked into her daughter’s expectant face and feared her heart might break. Why hadn’t she told Alexa the truth years ago when she began asking about the big family living on a farm in Kansas? Her mother’s harsh command rang in her memory, stinging her anew.
“I don’t care what you want, young lady. You will give up that baby to your cousins, and no one besides you and me will ever know what you did!”
Suzanne hadn’t wanted to inflict pain on her precious girl, so she’d sidestepped Alexa’s questions rather than divulge the events surrounding her leave-taking.

She’d always admired Alexa’s cheerful outlook and active imagination, seeing them as gifts even if she sometimes wished her daughter would ground herself more in reality. For years she’d carried a boatload of regrets, but the
biggest one at that moment was that she had not been completely honest with the most important person in her life. The truth would shatter Alexa.