When Mercy Rains (45 page)

“For the last time, Alexa is
not
your child!” Suzy pressed both palms to her chest as if she needed to keep her heart from escaping. “Our child is Anna-Grace Braun.”

Paul stumbled backward and slammed his shoulder blade on the corner of the mailbox nailed to the house. He felt his shirt tear, felt the metal jab into his flesh, but he ignored the pain and stared at her in shock. “A-Anna-Grace?”

Suzy nodded miserably, tears winking in her eyes. “Yes. Now please … will you come?”

He brushed past her, down the porch steps, and across the yard. Prickly grass poked his soles but he moved steadily toward the Lapps’ house. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

Suzanne

“I cried the entire day after they took my baby girl away. I wanted her so badly.”

The sounds of the children’s laughter in the room above contrasted with the almost deathly quiet in the front room. Alexa sat next to Mother in the rocking chair Suzanne had abandoned. The two of them held hands and kept their gazes riveted on her. But Paul, who had taken the piano bench, and her siblings and their spouses angled their heads toward various spots in the room, apparently uncomfortable with Suzanne’s tale.

She continued bravely, inwardly praying for strength to tell the truth, the whole truth. “I begged the midwife and the home’s directors, but they all said no. Said the papers were signed, the adoptive parents had been notified. They said I couldn’t change it now. So then I begged God to let me have her back. I promised I would be the best mother any child ever had if I could only have her back. But they still didn’t bring her to me. Instead, the next morning, they told me a taxi would arrive soon to take me to the recovery house where I would stay for three weeks before being sent home. I didn’t want to go. Not without my baby. But I knew it was useless to argue. So I dressed, and I went out to the front porch to watch for the taxi.

“It was December. So cold.” She paused and sent Mother a sad smile. “I was glad Mother had insisted I take my coat. Even with it buttoned all the way
up, the wind chilled me clear through, and I went around the side of the house where the wind would be blocked. I leaned against the wall and tried to plan a way to get my baby back. And that’s when I heard it.” She closed her eyes, reliving the moment.

“What?” Alexa’s breathless query brought Suzanne’s eyes open.

She looked at her daughter. Love swelled. Oh, how she prayed the truth wouldn’t fracture her precious child’s heart. “I heard a mewling. A sound so soft and weak, I thought it must be a kitten. I knew how cold the little thing would be, and I couldn’t let it freeze, so I went looking for it. Out behind the garage I saw a box stuffed with an old towel. The towel was moving, and the mewling sound came from underneath it. I remember thinking how awful—someone had abandoned a litter of kittens. I lifted the edge of the towel to peek inside, and I nearly fainted when I saw, not kittens, but a baby.”

Sandra gasped. She raised her face to stare at Suzanne and covered her mouth with her hands. Suzanne nodded somberly, acknowledging her sister’s reaction before going on.

“A baby girl so tiny and new her umbilical cord was still attached. And she was hungry! I could help with that.” Automatically her arms formed a cradle, and she began to rock gently from side to side. “I ducked into the garage and fed her, crying the entire time because I’d not been given the chance to nurse my own baby. But this little one didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t her real mother. She nursed and then fell asleep in my arms. I bundled her back up in the ratty towel and started to take her inside, to give her to the caretakers.”

She stopped rocking and tightened her arms around herself. “But when I came around the house, I saw the taxi waiting. They’d put my suitcase on the porch, and the driver already had it, loading it in the trunk. He saw me and asked if I was ready to go. I didn’t even stop to think. I just said yes and climbed into the taxi with the baby. But instead of the recovery house, I asked him to take me to the hospital. I didn’t know how long the baby had been out in the cold. I wanted to make sure she was all right.”

Her knees began to quake. Without a word Derek got up, retrieved a chair
from the dining room, and set it next to the rocking chair. Suzanne sank into it, grateful for Derek’s kindness. “When I walked through the emergency entrance, someone raced over with a wheelchair and asked me if I’d just given birth. I had, so I said yes. They took the baby and me to a room where the nicest nurse took care of me. She was so compassionate, so accepting.”

A soft sob sounded—Mother. Alexa immediately cupped her other hand over Mother’s. Satisfied Mother was being cared for, Suzanne went on.

“It didn’t seem to matter to her that I was only a teenager and there was no husband with me. She just … took care of me. When a hospital representative came in with a birth certificate, I gave the baby the nurse’s name—Alexa—because she’d been so kind. I added Joy as a middle name because the baby had brought me joy in the midst of my heartache.”

Tears slid down Alexa’s cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound. Suzanne wished she could hold her daughter’s hand, but Alexa was busy comforting Mother. She clasped her hands and tucked them between her knees.

“The representative recorded my name as the mother, and it felt so right. As if God had heard my prayers and decided to bless me for giving my own little baby to Andrew and Olivia. When she asked for the baby’s father’s name, I told the truth—I didn’t know who he was. And because I didn’t have a husband or family with me, a social service worker came in and told me about a couple who would let me stay with them for a while until I could get my feet under me. That’s how I went to live with Marvin and Cecilia Martens.”

Alexa smiled through her tears. “Papa Marv and Nana CeCe … They were so good to us. I love them.”

Suzanne smiled. “What a blessing they were. They encouraged me to get my GED, and when I said I wanted to become a nurse and help people the way the nurse Alexa had helped me, they supported my decision. I stayed with them until I earned my RN.” She shook her head, recalling their tender care. “The crowns waiting for them in heaven are surely encrusted with jewels. They were my saviors—Jesus with skin on.” Exhausted, Suzanne slumped against the chair back and fell silent.

Mother cleared her throat and spoke in a raspy voice. “So you didn’t have twins. Only one baby.”

Suzanne nodded wearily. “Yes. I’ve tried so hard not to tell outright lies even while withholding the truth that Alexa isn’t my biological child. I didn’t want to lie.” She turned to her daughter and prayed Alexa would see the love she held. “The deepest truth is this: Alexa, you are my God-given gift. From the first moment I held you to my breast, you were mine. I once saw a poem written from a mother to her adopted child, and it says so perfectly how I feel about you. You didn’t grow beneath my heart but
in it
.”

Tears flowed from her eyes, distorting her vision. She reached for Alexa, needing a connection with her, and to her relief she released Mother’s hand and reached back. Linked with her daughter, Suzanne shared another truth. “I never told you how you came to be my child because I was afraid I would lose you.”

She flicked a glance at Paul, who sat ramrod straight and silent, his gaze aimed slightly upward. “And I tried to keep you from Paul because I knew, eventually, both of you would assume he was your father. I didn’t want you forming a bond because—” Her voice broke, fresh guilt skewering her. “It could only lead to another loss. I didn’t want to hurt you yet again.”

Releasing Alexa, she pushed herself upright and walked woodenly toward Paul. “Please forgive me. I feel as if I’m stealing another child from you.”

Slowly he tilted his head until his gaze met hers. His stony expression pierced her, but she refused to look away. She deserved his condemnation, and she would accept whatever harsh words he threw at her. He rose stiffly, like a folding ruler being extended section by section. When he reached his full height, he drew in a breath. She braced herself for the verbal barrage.

“Anna-Grace Braun is the baby girl you gave up for adoption?”

She nodded.

“She is my daughter—yours and mine?”

Again she nodded. His flat tone and cold demeanor left her quivering in apprehension. The fiery glint in his eyes promised an eruption. When would it come?

“I lost her when you went away. But now she’s here. I won’t lose her again.” He started for the door. “Now that I know the truth, I’m going to tell her. I want my daughter.”

Abigail

“Paul, wait!” Abigail strained against her chair, against her useless legs. She wanted to race after him, to stop him before he made a grievous mistake. To her relief he halted a few feet from the door, but he didn’t turn around. His stiff bearing pulsated with impatience. She spoke to his back. “Give me a few minutes, please?” Even though he didn’t respond, she pretended as if he’d granted approval.

She sent a glance across the room. “Clete, Tanya, all of you—please go home. Alexa, go with Sandra, would you? I need to talk to your mother and Paul alone.”

Alexa crossed to Suzanne first, and the two embraced. They whispered to each other, words too low for Abigail to hear, while the others collected the children from upstairs and made their way outside. Alexa skirted around Paul and joined Sandra, who put her arm around the younger girl’s waist and delivered a kiss on her temple. Abigail’s heart swelled. With all the things she did wrong, she must have done a few things right to see her children respect her wish and react compassionately toward the little foundling they now knew wasn’t their flesh and blood.

As soon as the door closed behind Sandra, Abigail said, “Paul, Suzy, sit down.” Suzy returned to the rocker, close to her mother, but Paul clomped to the farthest sofa and perched on the edge of the cushion with his hands propped on his thighs as if prepared for escape. Abigail shook her head sadly. Such heartache in this room. Such pain and regret. She carried it, too. But maybe she could keep these two from inflicting further harm.

“All right. I need you to listen.”
Lord, give me strength
. “When Suzy came
to me and told me she’d missed her monthly and that she had lain with you, Paul, I was very angry. My child and a young man I’d trusted had broken God’s laws. I was angry and disappointed and …”—she swallowed—“ashamed. The shame rose above all else, and every decision I made was to hide it. I was selfish. I thought only of myself. How embarrassed I would be if the fellowship found out. How much of a failure I would appear to those I held in esteem. So I told Suzy she couldn’t tell anyone else, and I sent her away to hide
my shame
. Because of
my pride
.”

Shaking her head again, Abigail heaved a regret-filled sigh. “So many scriptures warn of the pitfalls of selfish pride. I fell headlong into the pit, and I pulled so many down with me. Both of you, my dear Cecil, Clete, Shelley, and Sandra … So determined to cling to my pride and hide my shame, I turned bitter and ugly and harsh. I robbed both of you of the joy of raising your child, I robbed my family of the loving wife and mother they deserved, and I robbed myself of
me
.”

She snorted in self-recrimination. “What a foolish woman I’ve been. I didn’t think about what was best for anyone except myself. I was so very, very selfish and wrong.” She turned a steady look on Paul. “Don’t do what I did. Before you run off to Anna-Grace and tell her you’re her father, stop and ask yourself if you’re telling her because it’s for her good or yours.” She turned to Suzy. “And consider Alexa … She wants to stay here and open a bed-and-breakfast inn. Oh, I resisted her. In this old house? But look at what she’s done here. I can see it now—I can see her ministering to those who need refreshment. Don’t deny her the pursuit of her dream out of selfishness, Suzy. You’ve raised her right. Now trust her to spread her wings where God leads her.”

A tear slid down Suzy’s cheek, but she smiled and nodded. Abigail gave her hand a firm pat and then faced Paul again. “Paul, I beg your forgiveness. I wronged you, and you have every reason to hold to your anger. If you choose not to forgive me, to remain angry, I will understand. But I also beg you not to let your anger at me trickle over on those who don’t deserve to experience the sting of wrath. Be better than I was—better than I am. Learn from my mistakes.”