When Mercy Rains (42 page)

Lacey glanced around the store at the other customers. “I’d say at least an hour.”

“An hour and a half then. That will give me time to finish up.” Mother waved at Suzanne. “Go. Explore. Have fun. I’ll see you later.”

Abigail

Abigail watched Suzy leave the store, her progress slow with so many others weaving here and there, and then move past the windows. Once she was certain her daughter was gone, she aimed a conspiratorial look at Lacey. “Can we build a dozen toys instead of eight? Is that too many?”

Lacey grinned. She was a cute girl even though her brown-and-blond-streaked hair was cut in some sort of odd, spiky style longer on one side than the other. “You can build as many as you want. Are you expecting more grandchildren?”

Abigail shook her head. The black ribbon from her cap tickled her chin, and she pushed it over her shoulder. “I want one for each of my daughters and my daughter-in-law. They’ve all been so good to me.” Tears pricked her eyes and her throat went tight. Why had she told Lacey something she should be telling Sandra, Shelley, Tanya, and Suzy instead? Somehow it was easier to talk to this stranger than her own family. That wasn’t right.

Lacey put her hand on Abigail’s shoulder. The girl’s touch was comforting. “Maybe you could put a little voice box in their animals with a message from you. Then they could listen to your words of appreciation whenever they want.”

Abigail sniffed hard, clearing the tears. She smiled, although her lips quavered. “That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.” Wouldn’t the girls be shocked to hear words of affirmation from their mother? But she loved the idea and couldn’t wait to get started. She knew just what she would say to each of them.

There were more than half a dozen styles of teddy bears, so Abigail chose a different design for each of the “big girls,” as she laughingly called them. Lacey took her to a little room where the store noise wouldn’t intrude and let her record her message on the voice boxes. Her voice cracked twice, and she had to start over on Suzy’s because emotion tangled her vocal cords so badly she couldn’t continue. But finally she got all four messages finished.

When the animals were stuffed and sewn, Lacey took her to the accessories
section. The tiny clothes were all ridiculously overpriced—she could make them for a fraction of the cost—so she chose not to dress any of the animals except Alexa’s. The little tuxedo and top hat were too cute to leave behind. Besides, she didn’t think she could sew a top hat.

Once they had Alexa’s bear decked out in his formal wear, the others looked so naked she relented and put pink hair bows on the cats, lavender tutus on the rabbits, and secured footballs on the paws of Jay’s dog and Ian’s elephant. Since she didn’t know whether the new baby was a boy or a girl, she chose a little yellow bib with a rattle stitched in the center for its accessory. The four bears she built for her daughters each received a ruffled mobcap and a pair of wire spectacles, turning them into grandmother bears. Although the items added to the cost, she liked the way they looked, and she gave Lacey a thumbs-up signal, which made the girl laugh.

She’d just finished paying for the purchases when Suzy returned. Her daughter’s eyes widened when she looked at the stack of boxes on the counter. “Are these
all
yours?”

“Yep. Lacey and I built an entire menagerie.”

“It will take me at least three trips to get them all to the car.” Suzy shook her head, peeking in the little cut-out windows on the boxes. A grin twitched at her cheek. “They are cute, though. The kids will be thrilled with them.”

Abigail hoped all of her kids, little and big, would be thrilled.

The cashier handed Abigail her receipt, and she quickly tucked it away before Suzy got a glimpse of it. No need to send her daughter into a dead faint. The purchase was extravagant—she wouldn’t deny it—but she couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such fun. The price tag was well worth it.

“Do you ladies plan to do more shopping?” the cashier asked.

Abigail nearly snorted. She might window-shop, but she didn’t dare spend another penny.

Suzy answered. “We plan to eat lunch in the food court and browse the other shops, yes.”

“If you’d like, you can leave these here. We have a little storage room where
they can wait for you. Then, when you’re ready to go, one of our employees will help you take them to your car.”

Suzy’s shoulders relaxed as if a burden had been lifted. “That sounds perfect.”

“Good.” The cashier gestured for another worker to come over and instructed him to take the boxes to storage.

As the young man began to gather the boxes, Abigail waved her hands. “Wait! You can take all but … that one.” She pointed out the box with Suzy’s bear inside. “I want to keep that one with me.” The worker handed the box to her, and she said, “Thank you.” Then, eagerness robbing her of ceremony, she thrust the box at Suzy. “This is for you!”

Suzy drew back in surprise. “You built one for me?”

Happiness bubbled up in Abigail and spilled out in a giggle. A girlish giggle she hadn’t even realized she was capable of releasing. “Yes, I did! Let’s go to one of the benches in the hallway and you can look at it.”

Suzy’s face remained fixed in an expression of wonder. Abigail set her chair in motion, and Suzy moved alongside her with the box hugged against her chest. They had to go quite a ways from the bear store before she found an unoccupied bench, but she pulled her chair near it and then patted the seat, inviting Suzy to sit.

“There you are. Now peek. I hope you’ll like it.” Suddenly uncertainty struck. So many years had passed. So many opportunities had been wasted. Would the message—the carefully worded message—be too late?
Dear God, please …
 She could find no other words, but she trusted God would read the yearning of her soul.

Suzy perched on the bench and placed the box on her lap. She peeled back the top and reached inside. Her face lit up as she pulled out the tan bear with curly fur and bright button eyes. A huff of happy laughter accompanied her smile. “Oh, Mother, she’s adorable! The cutest bear I’ve ever seen.”

Abigail wriggled in her chair, wishing she could leap up and dance with glee. She gripped the armrests. “Pinch her middle. She talks.”

Suzy’s eyebrows rose, and she obediently pressed her thumbs against the bear’s plump tummy. Abigail’s voice, carried on a rather tinny note, crackled from the little voice box.
“I am so proud of you, Suzy, and I love you very much.”

Suzy seemed to freeze, her unblinking gaze pinned on the bear. Abigail wanted to ask what she thought, whether she was pleased, if she believed her. But she couldn’t find the courage. So she sat in silence, watching her daughter’s face, holding her breath, hoping and praying.

Very slowly Suzy returned the bear to its box. She folded down the flaps with great care, almost reverently. With trembling hands, she slipped the box from her lap to the bench. Then she turned to Abigail. “Mother …” Tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Her lips crumpled and she lunged forward, kneeling on the floor and wrapping her arms around Abigail’s neck, nearly pulling her from the chair. Then she clung, sobbing softly against her mother’s breast.

Sobs pressed for release from Abigail’s throat, but she held them inside, needing to assume the role of comforter rather than the comforted. For the first time in far too long, she wanted to
give
, not receive. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and rested her cheek on her warm head. She was aware of the curious gazes of passersby, and her back throbbed from the awkward position, but she ignored both and whispered soothing words to her daughter while rubbing her hands up and down Suzy’s back.

Minutes passed—precious minutes, healing minutes—and finally Suzy pulled away. She helped Abigail sit up in the chair again, her professional side emerging, and then she eased onto the bench and dug through her purse for a tissue. After mopping her face, she aimed a wobbly smile at Abigail. “Mother …” Her voice sounded raspy. She sniffed, then pressed the tissue to her nose for a moment. “Thank you, Mother.”

Abigail sensed deeper meaning hiding behind the simple words, and she wished she could find the means to convey all her heart was feeling at that moment. But she could only nod, hoping her smile would speak what her lips could not. Suzy took her hand and squeezed, letting her know the message
came through. Abigail sniffed and patted her daughter’s hand—a brisk, nononsense pat that meant
all done, time to move on
.

Suzy plopped the box on Abigail’s lap and said, a hint of teasing in her tone, “Hold tight to Abby-bear. Let’s move on.”

Abigail hugged the bear to her thudding heart. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a window, and she nearly gasped in shock. That woman in the wheelchair with the shining eyes and upturned lips … could it really be her? Such a change had been wrought. And it came about through simple reconciliation. A prayer of gratitude winged heavenward without effort.
I’m restored, dear Lord in heaven. You’ve restored me. Thank You
.

Abigail

A hand lightly shook Abigail’s arm. The hazy dream into which she’d slipped shortly after leaving Wichita dissipated. She smacked her lips and raised her eyebrows, encouraging her lazy lids to open.

A soft chuckle came from the opposite side of the seat. “Wake up, Mother. We’re almost home.” Suzy’s tender voice pulled her completely from her drowsy state.

She yawned, balling her hands into fists, and then opened her eyes. The car bounced slowly along the final dirt road leading to the farm. She sent Suzy a sheepish look. “Goodness, I can’t imagine why I was so sleepy. We had three very relaxing days with more than enough rest.”

“Maybe all that shopping wore you out.”

Abigail glanced into the backseat. Friendly animal faces showed behind the little window holes cut in the boxes. She smiled and faced forward. “Lacey did most of the work.” Maybe the effort she put into forming the messages for Suzy, Shelley, Sandra, and Tanya had worn her out. If so, it was a good kind of tired. She wouldn’t complain. She sighed. “I’ve had my best birthday ever.”

An odd look crept over Suzy’s face. The car slowed a bit more and Suzy reached out and cupped Abigail’s wrist with one hand. “Mother, your birthday celebration … it isn’t finished yet.”

Abigail frowned at her daughter, worry and suspicion tangling together in her thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“Well …” They moved past the windbreak of hedge-apple trees to the opening of the farm’s lane. Suzy slowed to a mere crawl as she navigated the turn. The moment she cleared the trees, she released a gasp and pressed the brake.

The restraining seat belt held Abigail in place, but her body jolted forward against the strap with the sudden stop. “Suzy! Be careful!”

Suzy was staring ahead, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Abigail turned to look forward, too, and she realized why Suzy had stopped so abruptly. They’d turned into the wrong lane. But then again, maybe they hadn’t. That was her barn to the right. And wasn’t that the corner of the old summer kitchen peeking from behind the house?

Her heart began to pound. Confused, she brought her gaze back to the beautiful house standing tall and proud. She recognized the ramp leading to the porch and the familiar old lounging chair settled by the big front window. This was her house, but it couldn’t be her house. Could it?

Late-afternoon sun glowed against soft yellow siding and made the gold and dark blue accent colors on the window casings, fish-scale siding, and massive corbels shine like jewels. “What? How? Who?” She clamped her mouth closed on the nonsensical stammers.

“Are you upset?”

Suzy’s hesitant question almost made Abigail laugh. Two months ago she would have been furious. She would have flayed whoever perpetrated this change to her house with bitter, angry words. She’d let the house go to rack and ruin as a sign of her internal failings. But somehow these past weeks and especially these past days—setting things right with Suzy again—had changed her. Although taken by surprise, she wasn’t upset or angry or even resentful. The house’s amazing transformation seemed to reflect the transformation she’d experienced in her soul.