You Don't Know Me (29 page)

Claire always hung the sparrow on the tree last.

She’d bought it that first year after Deidre left. It helped erase from her memory the words, the fight over the tattoo. It didn’t matter anymore—none of it did. Now the sparrow simply told her that, yes, God would watch.

Had to be watching.

After all, Claire begged Him each day for enough grace to believe, to pray, to hold on to hope. Even when she couldn’t form the words.

Surely He knew the cry of her heart.

Outside, the St. Louis sky was washed slate gray, full of mourning despite the festive lights on the house, the sparkle from the tree. Claire had smelled snow in the air this morning when she fetched the paper for her husband. She’d asked Henry to pick up some salt on his way home from the grocery store, just in case it sleeted instead. She didn’t want Kylie and the kids to fall when they came over for cookies today. She’d made them a fresh batch of snickerdoodles. And couldn’t wait to hear granddaughter Joy recite her lines for the upcoming Christmas play or to hold baby Deidre Grace.

Ben might be by later too, after shooting hoops down at the gym before Lamaze class with Molly. Claire couldn’t wait for the next grandbaby.

She couldn’t have enough grandbabies.

For a moment, she watched the sparrow dangle on the tree, the light glinting off it, shiny, bright. She still hung the other ornaments, too. The plaster handprint two-year-old Deidre had made in Sunday school. The Popsicle-stick manger scene. The school picture glued to a star’s center, cardboard covered with tinfoil.

In the picture, Deidre had such an overbite as she grinned, ten years old, her eyes shiny with Christmas hope.

The grief had lessened over the years. Just a bit. Or maybe Claire had simply accepted it a little more each year.

If one could ever accept saying good-bye.

Claire cupped the sparrow, fitting it in her hands, then drew in a breath and let it go.

Always letting go.

She put the empty ornament boxes into a plastic container and slipped on her shoes for the trek out to the detached garage.

Yes, the smell of snow seasoned the air. If they were lucky, they’d get a dusting before Christmas. Something about the snow always lightened her spirit.

She hoped Deidre lived where it snowed.

Claire shoved the container onto the shelf and was closing the door when she saw the Suburban drive up. She pulled her cardigan around her and waited in the cold while the driver got out.

She’d call him handsome, in a wool coat, dark-brown hair clipped short, green eyes that looked at her with such warmth, it unnerved her.

“Are you Claire O’Reilly?”

She didn’t know why, but the question sent a sliver of ice through her. She should have been over the fear by now, should be made of steel.

But she’d always dreaded this moment, the one when they’d send an official to break the news.

After all this time, she still wasn’t prepared.

Her throat tightened, her eyes burning.
Please . . .

The passenger on the other side got out also. Claire heard the door slam and glanced over.

Her breath left her.

Oh . . .

She pressed a hand to her mouth, reached out for something.

The man caught her hand.

“Mom?”

Claire still couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak as she took in the woman. Tall and beautiful with blonde hair, those blue eyes. She knew this face, this smile, this woman.
“Deidre.”
She let the name out, almost a whisper. And held her breath just in case—

“It’s me, Mom. It’s me.”

And then Claire made a noise she didn’t recognize, one she’d been holding in for over two decades, one that she’d allowed only God to hear.

“Oh, Deidre.” Claire launched herself forward, but the woman had already caught her up, pulling her tight.

Claire closed her eyes and clutched her daughter—her grown, beautiful daughter—to herself. Breathing her in, the smell of her skin, the softness of her hair, the presence of her. Alive.

Alive.

Thank You. Thank You.
“Please, tell me it’s over.”

“It’s over, Mom.”

She didn’t want to, but Claire couldn’t stop herself from pulling away, examining Deidre like she might a child. She cupped her hands on either side of her daughter’s face. “You are so beautiful.”

Then she laughed. Oh, Claire laughed, a full-out release of everything she’d clamped down for so long. Laughed and drew her daughter into another fierce hug.

Behind her, Claire heard voices. She stepped back.

Out of the car trundled a young man, tall, nearly an adult. For a moment, Claire flashed back and saw Ben in his teenage years. Behind him appeared another boy. Again, Ben, only this time with her daughter’s adolescent smile.

And then a girl.

An amazing replica of Deidre, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, a tentative grin.

The daughter she’d lost, reincarnated right here in her driveway.

“This is my family, Mom. My husband, Nathan, and our sons, Jason and Henry. And this is Colleen. Your granddaughter.”

Claire took Colleen’s hands even as the girl glanced at her mom. “You’re as lovely as your mother.”

Colleen smiled.

“Are you really my grandma?”

Claire looked at the boy.
Henry.
Her husband would be thrilled to meet his namesake. Young Henry had something of mischief in his smile and stared up at her now as if the world hinged on her answer. She glanced at Deidre, who smiled at her.

Yes. Oh
yes
. “I am. In fact, I have a fresh batch of snickerdoodle cookies on the counter just for grandchildren. Want one?”

Henry nodded. “I love snickerdoodles! My mom makes the best.”

Really. Claire pressed a hand to her chest, not sure if her heart still beat.

As he ran inside, Deidre came up to her mother, took her hands. Claire threaded the fingers with her own.

They stood under the glow of the house Christmas lights as snow trickled from the sky, falling to the ground in the gentle silence of amazing grace.

This novel began on a flight to Portland. I sat next to a woman who was fidgeting in her seat, clearly distraught at some turmoil in her heart. After a few nudges from the Lord, I leaned over to ask her how she was and why she was going to Portland.

“To say good-bye to my daughter, who is going into the Witness Security Program.” She looked at me wearing a haunted expression. “She witnessed a murder and now the family of the convicted killer is threatening her. She isn’t safe.”

I stared at her. “For how long will she be hiding?”

“Forever,” she said.

I swallowed. After a moment: “How old is your daughter?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Why don’t you go with her?” I asked, not quite able to comprehend the magnitude of her loss. Not knowing if your daughter was alive, not seeing her get married, not knowing your grandchildren . . . so many unbearable sacrifices.

“I can’t. I have a husband who is handicapped and two small children. They can’t move.”

I didn’t pry any further, but my heart wrenched as I prayed for her, and right then
You Don’t Know Me
was birthed. At first I thought it might be the mother’s story. But as I worked on it, I realized it was also the daughter’s story. A story of secrets, of living another life. A story of second chances but also of regret. A story of grace and walking in it every day, hoping for a happy ending.

As I wrote, I discovered that
You Don’t Know Me
was also a story of how secrets can burrow in and destroy our lives even when we believe we are protecting the ones we love. Big secrets and small ones. Like the kind a mother and daughter might keep or the kind a son might keep from his father. While we think that secrets protect our loved ones, secrets are a cancer, and instead of bringing peace, they eat away at our security. Instead of being able to forget the secrets, the longer we keep them, the more they invade our everyday thinking. We wake up with our secrets haunting us, and just when we think we’ve put them behind us, they creep up and remind us of our deceit. They keep us from believing that we deserve a happy ending. They keep us from accepting the grace that God longs to give us.

I owe credit to my pastor, Dale McIntire, for the church scene in chapter 9. He read that psalm; he spoke those words (or close to them). And as God would have it, he spoke not only to Annalise but to me. See, God wants to break through the identities we’ve constructed for ourselves, the fears we have of discovery, to say, “I see you. I know you. I know everything about you, and yet I love you. Period. You don’t have to fear the truth with Me because I already know it. I know exactly who you are, and I still died to save you.”

In that moment, I heard the words of “Amazing Grace”—“How precious did that Grace appear the hour I first believed” (or realized just how wretched I was and how much I needed the Savior). This is the gift God gives us when we face those secrets that hold us captive. His grace. Salvation.

A fresh start.

We all keep secrets, and frankly many of us are living dual identities—the one the world knows and the one created by the secrets in our heart. God sees them both and He still loves you. More, He longs to set you free. He can free you. Heal you. Fix your marriage, your family, your situation. I know because I’ve seen Him do this in my life.

I pray that the truth sets you free to be the person God died for you to become. Thank you for reading
You Don’t Know Me
.

Live in truth, my friends.

Susan May Warren

Susan May Warren is the RITA Award–winning author of more than thirty novels whose compelling plots and unforgettable characters have won acclaim with readers and reviewers alike. She served with her husband and four children as a missionary in Russia for eight years before she and her family returned home to the States. She now writes full-time as her husband runs a lodge on Lake Superior in northern Minnesota, where many of her books are set. She and her family enjoy hiking, canoeing, and being involved in their local church.

Susan holds a BA in mass communications from the University of Minnesota. Several of her critically acclaimed novels have been chosen as Top Picks by
Romantic Times
and won the RWA’s Inspirational Reader’s Choice contest and the American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year award. Five of her books have been Christy Award finalists. In addition to her writing, Susan loves to teach and speak at women’s events about God’s amazing grace in our lives.

For exciting updates on her new releases, previous books, and more, visit her website at
www.susanmaywarren.com
.

1. You Don’t Know Me
   opens with Claire O’Reilly traveling to Portland to say good-bye to her daughter. What questions and fears does she wrestle with? If you were Claire, what would you say to Deidre in that last meeting?
   
2. Annalise Decker appears to have the perfect life, but she keeps a number of secrets—big and small—from her husband, Nathan. At the same time, Nathan keeps the secret of his spending from Annalise. Do you agree with their belief that secrets are normal in a relationship? What do you think of Annalise’s idea that secrets protect them? When have you kept secrets from someone you love? What was the result?
   
3. While Annalise and Nathan have a marriage that many people envy, Annalise has mixed feelings about the lack of “spark” in their relationship. Do you believe this type of chemistry is important in a marriage? How do things change for Nathan and Annalise throughout the story?
   
4. In what ways do we see Nathan haunted by his father’s death? How does he try to prove himself to the people of Deep Haven? Have you ever felt pressure to escape a family legacy?
   
5. Witness Security agent Frank Harrison gives Annalise an impossible choice: to uproot her family and force them to assume new identities or to leave them behind. If you were in Annalise’s place, which option would you choose? Why?
   
6. Colleen Decker not only resembles her mother physically, but Annalise also observes that Colleen shares personality traits with her younger self. What fears do these similarities raise in Annalise? Do you agree with how she responds to them? How do you feel about traits that you share with your own parents or children?
   
7. Why do you think Tucker Newman is so desperate for Colleen’s family to like him? Have you ever felt a similar longing for approval?
   
8. Nathan comes home one afternoon to find Annalise painting the basement—the latest in a long series of home improvements. Why do you think Annalise has this urge to constantly redecorate, never satisfied with the house? Do you have areas of your life that you are constantly “remodeling”?
   
9. In chapter 9, Pastor Dan counsels his congregation, “Do not let your circumstances define God’s love for you. He loves you. Period.” How do you see characters in this story interpreting God’s love according to their circumstances? Have you ever done the same?
   
10. Helen’s sister Miriam challenges her on the lack of forgiveness that led to her divorce. What does Helen come to realize about how she treated her ex-husband, Dylan? How does it affect her reaction to Annalise’s deception? In what circumstances have you found it difficult to forgive?
    
11. When he finally learned of his wife’s cancer, Frank distanced himself to avoid witnessing her pain. How is that response challenged in his growing relationship with Helen? Have you ever felt tempted to avoid growing close to someone in order to avoid being hurt?
    
12. Thinking she’ll have to leave Deep Haven, Annalise decides to pack a small bag of her belongings. What items does she choose to take with her, and what significance do they hold? If you could take only a few items from your home, what would you choose?
    
13. In the midst of her health scare, Helen resolves to begin “living large.” What’s on her list of things to see or do? What things would be on your list? Do you feel that you’re living life to the fullest right now? Why or why not?
    
14. When he learns about the potential threat to his family, Nathan takes action to protect them—with nearly tragic results. Do you agree with his method? What would you have done in his place?
    
15. On the outside, Tucker looks like trouble, the quintessential bad boy. By contrast, Jason Decker looks like an honorable young man, the perfect student and son. How are both boys revealed to be different from their appearance? Have you made similar assumptions based on a person’s outward appearance? How do you respond if you find that your first impression was wrong?
    
16. Annalise fears how Nathan will react if she confesses her past and lets him see the person she once was. How does she come to feel about being fully known by him—both in her past and her present? Have you ever feared being fully known, by another person or by God?
    
17. Several characters in
    You Don’t Know Me
    consider the idea of a second chance, of becoming someone new. Have you ever wished you could start over or create a new identity for yourself? In what circumstances? Are there ways that reinventing yourself can be a good thing?
    
18. How does Annalise finally come to view her past? Looking back on your own life, where can you see evidence of God’s grace, even in times of difficulty or pain?