Far Country

by Malone, Karen

  Steve was touched by her request. “Well, it’s not really a cast, Gracie,” he explained. It’s called a knee brace and it’s not hard like a cast. It’s made out of cloth. I don’t think your marker will show up on it.”

  Gracie heaved another dramatic sigh. “I told you my grandma got me a silver one too,” she reminded him. “Silver would be pretty.”

  Steve sighed in resignation and stuck out his leg. “Sign away, then.” He told her. "I'd be honored."

  Gracie knelt beside his leg and popped off the cap. With a frown of concentration, and her black hair falling like a curtain around her work, she slowly printed out her name. “There,” she said at last, sitting back and eyeing her handiwork with satisfaction.

  Steve looked up and saw the young mother, her baby asleep now in her arms, smiling indulgently at the two of them. He smiled at her and the looked down at Gracie. “Thank you for being the first person to ask to sign my brace,” he told her truthfully.

  “You’re welcome,” she replied grandly.

  Steve smiled at his little friend. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Gracie.”

  A door opened in the far wall and a nurse stood in the doorway. She spotted Gracie and smiled. “Sarah Grace Bolton, you’re next,” she informed the child.

  Gracie scrambled to her feet and stuffed the markers back into her pink purse. Steve stared open mouthed, confusion and surprise warring inside his head. His mouth was suddenly very dry. “Your name is Sarah Grace Bolton?” He managed weakly. Gracie nodded.

  “That’s my whole name, but nobody calls me that unless grandma gets mad at me and I’m in trouble,” Gracie confided to him. “I like it best when I’m just Gracie.”

  She slid the purse strap over her arm and skipped across the room to join an older woman who was walking away from the soap opera wedding reception toward the nurse. The lady held out her hand and Gracie took it. “Who were you talking to?” The older woman asked with a kind smile.

  Gracie pointed at Steve. “I made a friend!” She announced. “His name is Steve and he signed my cast and I signed his!” Gracie’s grandmother sought the person who had kept her granddaughter occupied in the waiting room.

  Steve realized that he was nearly hidden by the partial wall that held the fish tank, which gave him a moment longer to observe the woman holding Sarah Grace Bolton’s hand. She was a little older, but Steve knew her well. And, when Mrs. Bolton’s eyes found his, she knew him, too. Sarah’s mother, HIS Sarah, stared in shock as she recognized the young man who had been the driver of the car the night she had lost her daughter forever. Her eyes reflected hurt, and then, inexplicably, fear. Without a word she pulled Gracie closer to her and hurried her through the door that led back to the examination rooms.

  Steve stared at the closed door in stunned silence. Gracie called Mrs. Bolton grandmother! Deborah had never mentioned that David had a child, he thought in confusion. And Gracie was five years old, so she would have known, surely….An impossible thought occurred to Steve. Impossible! Yet, not entirely impossible, he amended in his head.

  His eyes wandered to the childish script on his leg brace. Gracie had printed her whole name. ‘Sarah Grace Bolton’, and wreathed the words at either end with little silver hearts. Sarah Grace Bolton. It fit, really. And Gracie was so like Sarah, he thought. It was amazing that he had not made the connection immediately. The gray eyes and thick black hair…! Steve shook himself. Gracie had said she was five and born in February. He counted back in his head, recalling the one time, after the cast party for Oklahoma, when they had lost control. It had been unplanned, unexpected and so sweet….but it was just the one time! Was it even possible?

  Yes, it was.

  Abruptly, Steve lurched to his feet and limped to the door. He couldn’t sit here and he couldn’t go back there, where Mrs. Bolton and Gracie waited to see the doctor. Not right now. Not with the things that he was thinking! He eased himself into the station wagon and slumped dazedly in the seat.

  Could I have a daughter? The possibility of it swirled in his brain, almost making him dizzy. Could Sarah’s poor broken body have borne a child?

  After a time the mounting heat of late spring in North Carolina forced him to start the car and crank the air conditioning. Slowly he drove back to the house.

  When his mother came home from work an hour later, he was sitting in the living room, sipping a glass of iced tea. “Oh good, you’re awake!” She said, smiling fondly at him. “I didn’t want to holler in case you were taking a nap.”

  She poured herself an iced tea and joined Steve on the couch, studying her son. Her heart fluttered a little. The dark, moody expression on his face didn’t seem to herald good news at all. Would he need surgery after all? She had thought he was doing so well, too! Mrs. Williams steeled herself for the worst. “So,” she prompted gently. “What did the doctor have to say? Was it bad news?”

  Steve shook his head, setting the glass down on the coffee table coaster. “I didn’t see the doctor today, mom. Something happened and I had to leave.”

  Mrs. Williams caught her breath. “Did you wreck the car?” She asked, apprehensively.

  Again, Steve shook his head, wry smile on his lips at her initial reaction. “The car’s fine, mom,” he assured her. “But look at this.”

  He pointed to the crooked silver letters that wobbled across his leg brace. Mrs. Williams leaned forward and frowned as she read the words. “Sarah Grace Bolton,” she breathed softly in surprise. “Did Lee Ann Bolton actually talk to you , then? Was she civil to you? I’m so pleased! You know she struggled with depression over what happened for years, but having little Gracie around has helped her so much. Isn’t she a sweet child?”

  Steve stared at his mother as if he didn’t know who she was. “You knew about Sarah Grace, and you didn’t bother to tell me?” He questioned her in an accusing tone.

  Mrs. Williams blinked, taken aback by his tone of voice. “It didn’t occur to me that you would care to know, Steve. The Bolton’s’ took Gracie in when she was little more than a baby. David’s cousin in Memphis died in a wreck about a year after your accident. Gracie has lived here ever since.”

  Steve was caught off guard. “David’s cousin? What cousin?” He asked sharply.

  Mrs. Williams shrugged, bewildered. “I don’t know, really. I don’t recall meeting her,” she admitted to Steve. “I’ve heard that she was a single mom, and that the father of the child had left her before Gracie was even born. A tragedy, to be sure, but they were happy to get the baby. It helped to take their minds off of what was happening to Sarah.”

  Steve took a deep breath and frowned, trying to recall David and Sarah’s ‘cousin’ in Memphis. They DID have an uncle there, but had there been cousins too? The uncle, though, he had visited once. Steve recalled that he seemed very old, compared to David’s father, and he’d been sick – with a portable oxygen tank. Steve thought that it might have been emphysema. There had been no mention of cousins!

  “Steve?” Mrs. Williams prodded her son back to the present. “Steve, where did you see Lee Ann and Gracie?”

  Steve sighed. “We saw each other, but we didn’t speak. Gracie has a broken arm. She picked up my pen when I dropped it and we started talking in the waiting room. Mrs. Bolton was sitting on the other side watching the TV, so I had no idea who she was with. Mrs. Bolton didn’t know I was there until she got up to take Gracie back for her appointment.”

  “What happened when she saw you?”

  Steve shrugged. “Nothing, really. She looked upset at first, then kind of scared, actually. She hurried Gracie to the back without speaking to me.

  Mrs. Williams sat back on the couch, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I’m sure it was unsettling, to see her so unexpectedly. You said that Gracie had a broken arm, though?”

  Steve nodded. “Fell off of her tire swing.” He was quiet for a long moment. “Mom, she looks a lot like Sarah,” he told her abruptly.

  Mrs. Williams shrugged. “T
hey’re family, Steve. It may seem disturbing, the resemblance, but it’s not so uncommon for cousins to have similar features.”

  Steve struggled to accept the possibility, but in his heart, he felt certain that he knew the truth. Gracie was not the child of some distant Memphis cousin. He and Sarah had made a child that night, and that child was Gracie.

  “Mom, Sarah and I…” He took a deep breath. “I believe that Gracie is my daughter.”

  A dead silence hung in the room as mother and son stared at each other. Mrs. Williams shook her head suddenly and stood up. “No. Steve, no,” she said firmly, every move she made repudiating the whole idea.

  “Don’t start this, now. You’ve obsessed about Sarah for years, don’t ruin the rest of your life making hysterical claims about Gracie Bolton. Even if it were possible, Steve, it can’t be!”

  “Yes, mom, I’m sorry, but it could be,” Steve said, cutting her off flatly. “It was only once, but we didn’t plan to…it...just happened. We didn’t even think about protection.”

  Steve looked at his mother, but her face was impassive. “It was after the cast party, in May,” he continued nervously. Gracie told me she was born in February, and that she was five years old.” Even though she didn’t speak he knew that his mother was doing the calculations in her head.

  Steve studied the floor. “I didn’t know. I doubt that Sarah could have known, even. But, mom, it is definitely possible.”

  Mrs. Williams was silent for a long time. “Steve,” she began finally. “Even if she had been pregnant – think about it. The accident, the drugs the trauma to her body! She would have miscarried, surely.”

  “Maybe,” Steve conceded. “Or, maybe not. If they did a routine pregnancy test, they would have known not to use certain drugs.”

  Mrs. Williams slowly returned to the couch and sat down next to her son.

  “Steve,” his mother said in a gentle pleading voice. “You’re just grabbing at straws! This is just one more attempt to hang on to a part of Sarah.” She took his clenched hand in her own and stroked it. “Honey, think about it,” she begged. “If you start making wild claims about Gracie, you will reopen old wounds that will never heal.”

  Steve opened his mouth to speak but Mrs. Williams interrupted him. “Haven’t there been enough victims from that wreck?” She said in a shaking, vehement voice. “Don’t make her a victim, too, Steve! And please don’t destroy the little peace that the Bolton’s have found with this child!”

  Steve’s eyes were haunted. “You didn’t see her, mom.”

  She paused, her eyes wet with emotion. “I have seen her,” she reminded him. “You’re right that Gracie looks a little like Sarah Bolton, but that does not make her Sarah’s daughter - or yours.”

  Steve looked into his mother’s eyes. His face pained was incredulous. “She could be your grandchild, mom. Are you willing to let that go?”

  Mrs. Williams’ face grew hard and angry. “You are talking foolishness, Steve! I can not believe that she is my granddaughter. When are you going to let this sick obsession go? Sarah is dead, Steve! There was no baby!”

  Steve could only stare at his mother in shocked silence. “But what if there was?” He said softly.

  Steve Mrs. Williams stood up stiffly. “I’m going to fix us some dinner.” She paused in the doorway to the kitchen and studied the stubborn expression on Steve’s face. When she spoke her voice was tired and heavy with grief for what that night had cost them all.

  “It is time for you to let go of the past, and let everyone get on with their lives. Enough is enough. Please. Let it go!” She turned abruptly and walked quickly from the room, her heels clicking angrily on the tiled floor.

  Steve remained hunched on the couch. He continued to stare at the childish silver scrawl on the knee brace. Gently, he traced the letters with his finger.

  w Sarah Grace Boltonw

  Was he clinging obsessively to a dead past? Or reaching out to a living future?

  Ch 21

  Kairos

  Steve slouched sullenly in the easy chair across from Pastor Graham. This meeting was not going the way he had envisioned it. Pastor Graham was no more enthusiastic about the idea that Gracie might be his daughter than his own mother had been!

  “Why is it so hard for you to see this?” Steve demanded. “She is the spitting image of Sarah!”

  “Yes, there is no doubt that the child is a Bolton,” Reverend Graham agreed calmly. “But there is doubt that she is yours.”

  “But I know it!” Steve shot back emphatically, leaning forward as his emotions flooded his voice.

  Reverend Graham smiled sadly at Steve’s passionate statement. “You don’t know it. You want it to be true,” He corrected Steve.

  “God!” Steve pounded his clenched fist on the desk that rested between them in his frustration. “How can you say that? Why don’t you believe me?”

  “Hold on,” said Reverend Graham firmly. “I never said that I didn’t believe that you believe it, Steve. But this is not a revelation to be taken lightly.” He leaned toward Steve. How long were you in the waiting room talking to Gracie before the nurse called her name?”

  Steve collapsed back resentfully. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, tops.”

  “So if it is so self evident that Gracie belonged to you and Sarah, why did it take hearing her name spoken aloud to make you realize it?”

  Steve was silent a moment. Why hadn’t he realized it at first, and why was he so certain now? “Reverend,” he responded slowly, “why didn’t the disciples recognize Jesus after the crucifixion? It had only been three days since they had last seen him, and they had spent nearly every day of the last three years in his company. They didn’t know him, until he told them, but once their eyes were open, they never wavered in their belief again.”

  Reverend Graham settled back in his chair and smiled ruefully. “At least I know that you have been paying attention in Bible Study all these months,” he responded with a sigh.

  “All right, I’ll agree that until you heard her name, you never really looked at the child with that thought in your head.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Still, you don’t know. You can’t know if Lee Ann is telling the truth about Gracie’s parentage, or telling a lie to hide the truth.” He paused, thinking and chewing on his bottom lip.

  “Steve, I’m going to say something to you that you are not going to want to hear, but I hope you will at least think about it before you fly off the handle. Will you at least hear me out?”

  Steve eyed the pastor apprehensively. At last he relaxed a little and nodded. “Shoot,” he said.

  Pastor Graham formed a steeple with his fingers, taking his time to find the words he needed. “When you saw Gracie, was she healthy? Apart from her broken arm?”

  Steve nodded slowly, wondering where the pastor was taking this. “I think so. She looked pretty healthy, anyway.”

  “Okay, did she seem happy?”

  Again Steve nodded his agreement.

  “Was she afraid of Mrs. Bolton? Did she cringe or hesitate about taking her grandmother’s hand?”

  Steve rolled his eyes, losing patience with Pastor Graham’s meandering and pointless questions. “Of course not. Mrs. Bolton was a great mom. I loved being at their house when we were kids. I know that Gracie is well taken care of with them.”

  Reverend Graham asked one more question. “So she is safe?”

  “Yeah, I guess she is,” Steve agreed, still irritated.

  “Steve, for Gracie’s sake, you need to leave well enough alone, then. At least, for a little while.”

  Steve exploded out of the chair. “I don’t believe this!” He raged. “I find my daughter and you tell me to ‘leave her alone’? You must be crazy!”

  Reverend Graham voice remained calm and reasonable. “You need to stop thinking of you and what you want, Steve. The question should be ‘What does Gracie need?’”

  “She needs her father in
her life!” Steve shot back heatedly, storming around the office.

  “Yes, but maybe not like this.”

  Reverend Graham’s words slowly sank through Steve’s anger and frustration. He glared at his pastor. “What are you trying to say?”

  “My point is, Steve, if she IS your daughter, do you want her to love you for enriching her life, or hate you for destroying the only safe and happy home she has ever known? What do you think is going to happen if you charge over to the Bolton’s house right now and demand your rights as a parent? How will Lee Ann and Richard react? At this age, Gracie takes all her cues from how her grandparents see life. Destroy them and you destroy any chance you might have of a loving relationship with your daughter.”

  For the first time since seeing Gracie, Steve paused to imagine the scene if he should confront the Bolton’s about Gracie’s birth. He remembered the look of fear in Lee Ann’s face when she recognized him. He remembered the silence that had greeted his every request to visit Sarah after the accident. The truth cut deeply. If they had hated him for his part in what happened to Sarah, how much more would they hate him if he tried to take Gracie?

  Steve’s shoulders slumped forward. He let out a sigh of despair. “She would hate me, wouldn’t she?”

  “If you are right about Gracie, Lee Ann and Richard have gone to great lengths to hide the truth. Not just from you, but from your parents, and all of their friends. It must have been shocking to be left with a half dead shell of their daughter and then discover that she was going to bear a child to the boy whom they felt had destroyed her.”

  The old self hate surged through Steve. He gave a bitter laugh. “When you put it like that, I’d hide her from me too.” Steve shut his eyes in remembered pain. “They hated me,” he whispered hollowly. “They wouldn’t even let me see her in the hospital. They never let me see Sarah again, even five years after the accident.” He let out a shaky breath and stared hopelessly at Reverend Graham. “They won’t ever let me see Gracie, will they?”