Freedom's Kiss

by Sarah Monzon

  He stopped at the edge of the makeshift village, his eyes scanning the trees, body alert.

  Winnie pulled up beside him. “My heart’s trippin’ against my ribs. The news isn’t good, is it?”

  Nokosi’s shoulders remained rigid. Any emotion he may have felt refused to let itself be seen on his stoic face. “Our courageous brothers have fought valiantly and heroically, answering the unprovoked attack on Fowltown. For weeks they battled at Ocheesee, cutting off supplies routed on the Apalachicola River. Unfortunately, boats were dispatched, and due to cold weather Crazy Medicine, the Creek who led the attack, was forced to retreat.” Nokosi paused his recitation and glanced down at her. “Since that time, American general Andrew Jackson has invaded Florida, though the Spanish still claim the land as theirs. He built a garrison along the Apalachicola and has sought retribution by terrorizing Seminole settlements.” He returned his study to the woods. “The Spanish Fort of San Marcos de Apalache has been captured.”

  Winnie absorbed the news. What did it all mean?

  Nokosi continued, though the words seemed to pain him. “The American army has captured Crazy Medicine as well as Mekko Homathlemico. They both hung.”

  Winnie swallowed. “What’s Jackson doin’ now?”

  A tic in his jaw was all the emotion Nokosi let pass. “He has crossed the Apalachicola and now marches toward Pensacola and Fort San Carlos de Barrancas.”

  Winnie’s chest deflated. “We’re beat.”

  Nokosi remained immobile “As a people, we are wounded, but no man can ever break us.”

  Winnie wasn’t so sure. “How long before you go back?”

  “The elders have given me a week to regain my strength before returning to the fight.”

  Seven days. Would he come back whole the next time? And what did his report mean for the Seminole and the blacks who sojourned with them? If Jackson and the Americans won…

  She shook her head, reminding herself of the passage in Matthew that Martha liked to quote to her. Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

  Without a word, Nokosi reached down and grabbed her hand, tugging her around a wild azalea bush and back onto the narrow deer trail that led to the small lake where she’d caught the trout. She placed her feet in his prints, their trek not making a sound among the thin trees of the needle-nose pines. When they made it to a clearing, he dropped her hand and turned to her.

  “Your father and brother send their greetings.”

  Her breath hitched. “You’ve seen them? They’re well?”

  He nodded. “Asa fights with the rage of a wounded animal meeting his torturers. He is fierce, and the sight of him causes the enemy’s heart to run cold. He has kept your brother safe.”

  Winnie exhaled and closed her eyes against the relief flooding her.

  “Pakse.”

  The soft way Nokosi said his special name for her, like a caress, caused her to blink her eyes slowly open. The stern lines that furrowed his brow smoothed, and the immovable hardness that hovered about his person drifted away like fog on a breeze. He looked down upon her with a tenderness she’d never seen directed her way by anyone.

  “I have missed you, Pakse.”

  She swallowed, unexpected tears burning the back of her eyes. “I missed you too.” It had been excruciating to watch every last person she loved walk away from her and into danger. What if they all ended up like Temperance? Could she bear such a loss again?

  But every day she’d tried to put her worry into God’s hands. One time she snuck away to the river where Nokosi had shown her the otters. She was surprised when she’d found one with its teeth sunk into the leathery neck of an alligator. Though more than twice its size and weight, that tough little weasel had brought down an animal without any natural predator. The sight had given her hope. Maybe the united band of people fighting the enemy from the north could be victorious.

  “Do you know why I call you Pakse?”

  His hands remained at his side, but Winnie yearned for them to lift. To touch her in some small way. Rest on her shoulder, squeeze her hand, trail a finger across her cheek. A physical connection that matched the way she already felt bonded to this man in front of her. Unable to move or to speak, she shook her head. Though she knew what the word meant, she didn’t know why he called her by it.

  “Pakse means tomorrow, and that is what you are to me. You are my tomorrow. You are the sun that shines on my day and the stars that light my night. You are the breath that fills my lungs and the beat of my heart in my chest. All of me, all of my days, all of my tomorrows, are wrapped up in you.”

  How could a man known for his strong silence be speaking such words to her? Warm liquid spilled from the corner of her eye even as her lips quivered in a smile.

  He lifted his hand and collected her tear on the pad of his thumb. “I do not know what the days ahead look like for our people. I only know what my future holds.” He stepped forward, closing all distance between them.

  She felt the rise of his chest against the underside of her chin as she stared up at him with bated breath.

  “My future is you, Pakse. As my wife.” Cradling the back of her head, he lowered his face toward hers until their lips met in a balm that covered the scars of her past and gave a promise of a future filled with love.

  Rising on her toes, she pressed into his kiss. Another tear leaked from her eye, and she couldn’t help but smile against his lips. Never had she experienced such joy. Used to the ache of loss and the dull pain that spread like an infection, this feeling of her chest expanding, the tingling sensation that spread all the way down to her fingertips, left her giddy, and a laugh escaped.

  Nokosi pulled back enough to look questioningly into her eyes. Her smile only widened until she couldn’t imagine her cheeks stretching any farther. Placing her palms on the sides of his face, she looked deep into his eyes. “I have never been happier than I am now.”

  The concern that had pinched his features melted, replaced with tenderness. Feeling bold, Winnie pulled his face back down to hers and captured his mouth again. The lightness of a moment ago settled into the pit of her stomach and hardened until all thoughts of laughter fled from her mind in the wake of the ball of desire burning in her middle.

  Nokosi placed a line of feathery kisses along her jaw until his breath warmed her ear and sent shivers down her spine. “Today, Pakse. Will you join with me today?”

  Winnie studied the ground as thoughts spilled into her mind. Was it wrong? To experience such elation when her friends and his people were fighting and dying for their lands and freedom? Would it be wiser to wait until the conflict ended before they tied their lives together?

  She raised her eyes and met his dark penetrating gaze. One glance. That was all it took for surety to calm and settle over her. Every day, every moment, was a gift to be received, opened, and enjoyed. The coming days were uncertain, but this moment with this man held no doubts. She stared at the greatest gift ever bestowed to her. She would cherish every moment she had with him…no matter how small the number of those days might end up being.

  Chapter 18

  Present Day, Florida

  With a sense of trepidation, Olivia opened the drawer of her nightstand and retrieved the dreaded envelope she’d placed inside days ago. Procrastination had to end sometime…so did confronting her parents. She still didn’t know what she would say to them and wasn’t sure she had the fortitude to hear their answers. But she needed to. She couldn’t live with this cloud hanging over her for the rest of her life and so many unanswered questions.

  She hated that she wasn’t handling the whole thing better. Couldn’t she just accept that her parents loved her and leave it at that? David and Eileen weren’t perfect, no one was, but they were better parents than most kids could claim having. They’d sacrificed so much for her while she was growing up, and she kind of felt like showing them these test re
sults would be a slap in the face to all of that.

  She let the envelope rest in her lap as she pressed the corner into a groove of her fingerprint in her forefinger.

  Identity.

  Like the swirls that ridged the pads of her fingertips, who she was didn’t draw a straight line from birth to this moment. It dipped and swooped and circled, adding layer upon layer. But what was at the center? If she could peel it all aside, what would she be left with? A child unwanted by her mother? One born of the heart instead of the womb? Someone with a rich heritage that she knew nothing about? A future uncertain?

  Who am I? Who am I? Someone special to Jesus. I’m Olivia. I’m Olivia. I am special to Jesus.

  A memory floated on the air like dust bunnies sparkling in the rays of sunshine pouring through her window. She closed her eyes and replayed the song in her head that she hadn’t heard since she was a little tyke in children’s church. It was a simple song with a simple message meant even for toddlers to understand—it didn’t matter who you were, you were special to Jesus. The nucleus of every living person’s identity.

  She tilted her head back in a moment of prayerful silence to still the turmoil that had been rippling in her soul.

  The garage door opened beneath her room, and she peeked between the blinds of her window to peer out. Her dad’s truck pulled into the driveway and disappeared below her. Scooping the envelope off her lap, she stood with a long sigh and walked out the door and down the steps.

  “Hey, honey. I didn’t expect you home. Not working at the food truck today?” Her mom set a couple of plastic grocery bags on the counter, then looked up at Olivia with a smile. A second later her dad waltzed in from the garage with a huge grin. He tossed his keys onto the hook by the door and then bent to wrap her in a bear hug that had her feet lifting off the ground. He swung her around, laughing as if in celebration.

  Olivia met her mom’s sparkling eyes from the kitchen as her dad returned her feet to the floor and clapped his hands on her shoulders. He looked down at her, joy and thankfulness spilling from his every pore. “I got a job, mija. I got a job!” The last word ended on a laugh, and he pulled her to his chest for another tight squeeze. Leaving one arm slung around her shoulders, he shook his head with the widest smile she’d seen on his face in a long time. “I just can’t believe it. Praise God.”

  A sheen coated his eyes, and Olivia found the matching emotion in her own throat. “That’s so great, Dad. Where’s the job at? What’ll you be doing?”

  “A local road crew just won a bid for a government contract, and they’re in need of heavy-machine operators. Not sure where they’re going to place me—excavator, crane, or one of the other machines—but they were thrilled I was licensed for more than one and hired me on the spot.” He beamed. “And their projections are for the work to take at least a year.”

  “That’s great!” Olivia stretched up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. She lost grip on the envelope at her side, and it flittered its way down to the carpet.

  “What’s this?” Her dad reached down and picked up the envelope, turning it over in his hands.

  “Oh, I wanted to talk to you and Mom about something.” She snatched the envelope and hid it behind her back. “But maybe now isn’t the right time after all.”

  The contents would be a wet blanket on her dad’s happy news. She wasn’t using that as an excuse. She wasn’t. But the talk could wait until after they celebrated. Another time would be better. More appropriate.

  Her mom wiped her hands on a towel and came around the kitchen island. “What’s this?”

  Olivia took a step back. “It’s nothing. Really.” She forced a smile past the panic starting to build in her chest. “We need to celebrate Dad’s new job. How about ice cream? My treat.”

  Eileen folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Olivia Jane, you’re acting a might peculiar. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing!” Her voice cracked. She tried again. “Nothing.”

  Her dad’s bushy brows rose. “Well now, I’m more curious than a porcupine in a boxcar race. Out with it.”

  Olivia’s shoulders drooped. “We can do this later, guys. No need to spoil Dad’s good news.”

  Eileen’s arms dropped, and her face blanched. “Now you’ve got me worried. Are you in trouble? Hurt? Sick?”

  Olivia’s heart pinched. “No, nothing like that. Everything is…” She stopped herself from saying fine. She was confused. Hurt. Emotionally disoriented. But she wasn’t fine. Not yet, at least. “Are you sure you want to do this now? It can wait until a better time.”

  Her dad wordlessly held out his hand. Olivia lifted her arm, surprised at how heavy it felt, and placed the envelope in his open palm.

  His brow furrowed as he looked at it, and he raised his head. “A lab?”

  Her mom sucked in a breath. “I knew it. You’re sick.” She rushed over and drew Olivia to her chest. “Is it cancer? You’re strong, baby. You can fight it.” She petted Olivia’s hair like she had when she’d comforted her daughter as a child. “Your father and I will be by your side every moment. You won’t have to face this alone. Oh, my sweet girl.”

  “Eileen.”

  David Arroyo’s strong voice shook with defeat, effectively cutting off the gushing reassurances but replacing it with a shiver Olivia could feel running down her mom’s spine. The paper rattled as he extended it to her, his face as white as the parchment the results had been printed on.

  “What?” Her mom turned her body so that Olivia stood more at her side than clutched to her chest. “What is it, David? You’re scaring me.”

  He nodded toward the proffered paper, and Eileen’s hand shook as she reached for it. Tears filled her eyes as she scanned the graphs and printed summary of results. She covered her mouth with her other hand.

  Olivia watched as the truth of revelation seeped all the joy and happiness from her parents’ eyes. Only moments before they’d been laughing and celebrating. Now her mother cried, and her father stared in front of him like he was in shock.

  She’d done this. She’d ripped the Band-Aid off and caused an old, hidden wound to seep and bleed.

  She wished she could distance herself. Shut down the emotions swinging at her like a prize fighter in a boxing ring, but she couldn’t even lift her hands in front of her face to defend herself. She felt guilty for bringing her parents pain, but also a little justified. If they’d told her sooner…if she’d grown up knowing all along…

  “Honey…” Her mom looked at her, pleading with her to understand, her expression a mirror of pain. Olivia had seen her mom wear this look before as she’d held a crying Olivia with tears streaming down her own cheeks. Olivia remembered asking her mom why she was crying, and her mom had said that when Olivia hurt, she hurt. That was how motherhood worked.

  Olivia stepped back and hugged her arms around her middle. She wanted her parents to hold her, but at the same time she needed some distance. Her throat felt dry, and she licked her lips before asking the one question that hadn’t ceased to pound against her skull since she’d first laid sight to those results.

  “Why? Why didn’t you tell me I was adopted? Why did you keep it a secret and lie to me all these years?”

  Her dad pulled a stool out from under the island tabletop and slumped into it. Anchoring an elbow to the speckled Formica, he let his head be supported by a rounded fist. “You’ve got to believe it was never our intention to lie to you, mija.”

  “Then what? Did you just forget that some other woman’s womb was my incubator for nine months? Did you forget that it wasn’t you and Mom who gave me life?”

  He lifted his head, looking older than he had a moment before. “In a way…” His shoulders rose and fell, as if the small action could fill the space instead of words. Instead of an explanation.

  Olivia flattened her lips and turned to her mom. Surely she’d have something more to say. Olivia had no idea what their journey had been up to the point of deci
ding to adopt. Maybe they’d tried to have their own biological kids for a long time and couldn’t. A woman wouldn’t forget the long, painful journey and disappointments pitted in that road. She wouldn’t forget the heartache or the emptiness of her arms when a child didn’t come.

  Or maybe they’d decided to adopt all along. Olivia didn’t know. She’d theorized and speculated the last few days, but the truth was, she didn’t know. Because her parents had never talked to her about it. She blinked back her own tears, determined to get through this conversation without crying.

  Her mom closed the distance and ran a hand over Olivia’s hair. “What your father is trying to say is that you are ours and we are your parents. From the moment you were placed in our arms, we became a family. There were no distinctions of biological or adoptive. We became Mom and Dad. Period. So yes, after a time we did forget that you were adopted, because to us, you’ve always been our daughter.”

  Olivia blinked. “So you’d never planned to tell me? You were just going to keep it a secret and lie to me all my life?”

  Her dad rotated on his stool, and his knee brushed hers. She felt hemmed in but couldn’t make herself move. “We had planned to tell you.”

  A humorless laugh exploded from her chest. “When? When I got married? Had kids of my own? When a doctor needed family medical history for some reason and yours wouldn’t suffice?”

  He dragged a hand down his face. “At first you were so young. Only a baby. Then you were crawling. Then walking. Then running. You grew up so fast. Your mom and I didn’t want to hurt you. Ever. We’d say we would tell you next year, but the next year would roll around and an opportunity never presented itself, so we’d say we’d tell you the next month, then the next week, then the next day.” He reached for her hands. “I am so sorry that you feel like we’ve been lying to you all this time.” He let one of her hands go and extended his toward Eileen. She threaded her fingers with his, connecting them all together. “Your mother and I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart.”