Red, White and Blue Weddings: Red Like Crimson, White as Snow, Out of the Blue

by Janice Thompson

  He stared in stunned silence. “W–what?” His arm loosened around her shoulder and he pulled back, a look of horror in his eyes.

  “I was pregnant,” she whispered. “With your baby.” This time, she didn’t give him time to ask questions. She raced through the story, feeling it afresh as the words tumbled forth like those autumn leaves of that awful day so long ago. “I left Virginia Beach the day I found out. I couldn’t think straight. I came home to be with my parents. I knew they would help me, tell me what to do.”

  “But, Adrianne. . .” She read the rejection in his eyes as he pulled away. “You. . .you. . .” He shook his head, unable to continue as tears filled his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry.” The words sounded lame, even to her.

  “You had no right to do that—just leave without telling me? You. . .” His voice trailed off. “You should have come to me. I would have done the right thing.”

  “I know that.” She hung her head in shame. “But I was so young, and so scared. You have no idea how scared. I knew you were headed to the mission field. And the mission board wouldn’t have let you go. Not if they’d known the truth. It would have ruined everything for you.”

  “That’s. . .” He shook his head, and anger laced his words. “That’s ridiculous. W–we could have made it work.”

  She shook her head. “No. You would have given up on your dream.”

  “You were my dream.” He spoke the words so emphatically, they scared her. “You. Yes, I wanted to work on the mission field, but my ultimate goal was for the two of us to minister together, to work hand in hand. When I left for Nicaragua, I felt emptier than I’d ever felt. Part of it was the fact that I’d drifted from God, at least in part. I thought being there would fill the emptiness, but it didn’t.”

  “I–I’m sorry.” She whispered the words.

  “And your explanation makes it sound like you did all of this for me. That’s. . .ludicrous.” His pensive stare sent daggers through her heart. She wanted to respond, but no words would come.

  For a moment, neither of them said a word. Finally, he asked the dreaded question. “Th–the baby?”

  Adrianne’s heart lifted a bit as she shifted her conversation to Lorelei. “She was born that next spring.”

  “She?”

  “Yes. Lorelei. She was born in April.”

  “Lorelei.” He whispered the word. “Like the Lorelei that we learned about in Lit class? The one who sang along the rocks of the Rhine River?”

  Adrianne nodded. “I knew you loved that story.”

  Chris’s voice seemed to tighten even further, if that were possible. “So my daughter was born in April. I was still in school in April. You could have called me. You should have called me. I would have come to Philadelphia. I would have flown halfway around the world to be with her.” He choked back tears. “With you.”

  “I know, I know.” Adrianne leaned her face into her palms and wept openly. How many times had she picked up the phone to call? Ten? Twenty?

  “You said you got my letters,” he whispered. “And you still didn’t tell me? Why? You knew I loved you. You knew it. And you. . .you stole this from me?”

  “I’m so sorry.” She took a breath. “I was so, so scared. I knew I would eventually tell you. And I tried to. I really did.”

  “You tried to? When? How? I’m just not seeing it, Adrianne.”

  “That June, when Lorelei was still tiny, I tried to call your apartment. It was something my dad said that gave me the courage. He told me that from the day I was born, his heart would swell with pride whenever he looked at me. He said he would always think to himself, ‘There’s my little daddy’s girl.’ So I called. I did. June 24. Lorelei was two months old that day.”

  “June 24.” He whispered the words. “I’d already left for Nicaragua.”

  “Yes.” Oh Lord, please help him understand. “I talked to your roommate. He told me you’d left. I never told him why I was calling, but he was great. He gave me the number for the mission organization in Managua. I called them that same day. Remember, I told you. . . .”

  “Yes, you told me you called them, but you left out a very important detail. You never told me why you called.” His breaths were coming quicker now. She could hear them and could sense the strain in his voice.

  “I–I’m sorry, Chris. I am. But. . .”

  He shook his head and anger laced his words. “They could have reached me. Might have taken some doing, but they could have reached me.”

  “Yes,” she said, “but I couldn’t relay a message like that through other people. This was something I had to do myself.”

  Chris leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Adrianne reached over to grasp his hand.

  “Chris. . .” She gave him an imploring look. “Don’t you see? You were already there, doing what you were called to do. I was here, and things were going okay. My parents were helping me. It would have been wrong to stop you midstream. I should have told you sooner, not later.”

  “So, you decided not to tell me at all?” His words carried an icy chill. “You were going to let me go the rest of my life not knowing I had a daughter? You felt that was the answer?”

  Adrianne shook her head, trying to explain. “No. When your letters kept coming, I tried again. I called your parents’ home.”

  “You did?” His voice had an air of disbelief, but Adrianne couldn’t blame him. “When?”

  “Your father had just passed away. Your mother was very broken. Hurting. She said that you would only be back in the States long enough to attend the funeral. The timing was. . . awful.”

  Chris nodded.

  “I tried again when Lorelei was three.” Adrianne smiled, remembering. “My parents had been praying all the while that you and I would. . .well. . .”

  He gave her a curious stare.

  “They really loved you.”

  “In spite of my flaws?”

  “They always loved you. Still do.”

  “Even though I got their daughter pregnant?”

  Adrianne sighed. “They’re grace-filled people. More so than I deserve.” She sat a moment, remembering the love her parents had poured out on her those first few years. “I tried to track you down in Nicaragua, the year Lorelei turned three,” she continued. “By then we were told you’d moved on to a different organization. No one in Managua had your contact information. It was like a trail of evidence leading. . .nowhere. But I wanted to find you. I always wanted to find you.”

  The sound of Adrianne’s heart pounding in her ears proved deafening. “If I had found you,” she said finally, “I’m not sure what I would have said. How I would have said it. It would have been so. . .so hard.”

  “What are we going to do?” He gave her a blank stare. Underneath the lamplight, his eyes seemed vacant, hollow.

  Adrianne gave a little shiver. “I think we need to take this one step at a time. First things first. You need to meet your daughter.”

  He shook his head without responding.

  Please don’t say you won’t see her.

  “Does she know about me?” he asked quietly. “Does she even know I exist?”

  “Yes, she knows she has a daddy.” Adrianne chose her words carefully. She’d been very limited in what she’d told Lorelei, naturally.

  “But does she know I’m here? In Philadelphia?”

  Adrianne shook her head. “I couldn’t think of a way to tell her. I needed to tell you first. But my parents know. They’ve been praying for this day for years.”

  More silence.

  Then, with a deep sigh, Chris turned his gaze toward the house. “They’re probably wondering what we’re doing out here.”

  “No. I’m sure they’ve figured it out. They’ll want to spend a few minutes with us before we wake Lorelei.”

  “Lorelei.” He whispered the word again, then leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. “Lorelei.”

  The sound of their daughter’s name running across h
is lips was pure music to Adrianne’s ears.

  EIGHT

  The trembling in Chris’s hands hadn’t stopped for a good ten minutes, ever since receiving the news.

  I am a father. I have a daughter.

  The words hadn’t fully permeated his heart, at least at this point. He wondered if they ever would. In fact, as he eased his way out of the front seat of Adrianne’s car, he contemplated pinching himself. Would he wake up from this dream-like state to discover life was exactly as it had been ten minutes before?

  No. One pinch was all it took.

  As they made their way up the front walk to the door of Adrianne’s parents’ home, Chris fought to understand. Why would she have kept this from him? How she could have kept this from him? How she could have kept his child from him?

  Just as quickly, guilt swept in. There was no simple apology. No asking for forgiveness and watching it go away. All of these things, and more, filled his head as they approached the front door. The silence nearly deafened him. He wanted to yell. At the top of his lungs. Wanted to cry out to God. . .to Adrianne. . .to anyone who would listen.

  Instead, his lips remained sealed. But his heart did not. In fact, it felt as if it had been ripped from top to bottom. Chris wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt such raw pain before. Or betrayal.

  Yes, Adrianne. Betrayal. You lied to me. You stole seven years of my daughter’s life from me.

  Just as quickly, his anger shifted to joy. When he contemplated the truth—that he had a daughter just beyond that door—his heart nearly burst with anticipation.

  “A–are you ready?” Adrianne whispered, as if in response to his thoughts. She lifted her key to place it in the door.

  “Wait.” Chris reached to touch her arm, needing just a minute more. “I have to know this. Is she. . .is she like me? In any way at all?”

  Under the porch light, he could see Adrianne’s face come alive. “Oh, Chris. . .” A glistening of tears tipped over the edges of her lashes as she spoke. “Your daughter is the spitting image of you. She has your features, your hair. . .” Adrianne’s lips turned up in a loving smile. “Your funny personality. Especially that. She’s funny, Chris. A real clown sometimes. But smart. Really smart. And she has the most giving heart you’ve ever seen. Just like you.”

  He pressed down the lump in his throat as he nodded his head. “Does she know the Lord? Have you. . . ?”

  Strangely, in light of his past sin, the question seemed oddly out of place. And yet he had to know.

  “She knows.” Adrianne grinned. “She’s very passionate about her faith, especially for being so young. I told you, she’s so much like you it hurts.”

  Hurts. A word he understand.

  “Are you ready?”

  He offered up a lame nod, and Adrianne opened the door to the living room. Almost immediately, her mother and father swept him into their arms. He heard his name from both their lips, but their excitement made it nearly impossible to distinguish one voice from the other.

  Finally, Mrs. Russo paused long enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. “We thought this day would never come.” She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head in silence.

  “Son. . .” Mr. Russo extended a hand. “We’re glad to see you.”

  Why? How in the world could you not hate me?

  As if in response, Adrianne’s father wrestled him into a tight bear hug. He could feel the man’s chest begin to heave, and sobs came. For both of them. Soon enough, they were all four in tears. Mrs. Russo ushered them to the sofa, where they sat in a puddle until someone finally broke through the ruckus.

  “What happened? Grandma? Mama?”

  Chris looked up through tear-stained eyes at the beautiful little girl who’d just entered the room. Her light brown hair glistened under the lamplight and as she rubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands, he couldn’t help but notice the color of those eyes. Green. Same as his. Immediately, his hand went to his mouth, and he fought to keep from crying aloud.

  “Lorelei.” Adrianne rose from the couch and stepped in the child’s direction. “We didn’t mean to wake you, baby.”

  “I heard crying.” The youngster looked around the room, a sleepy expression on her face. “What happened?”

  “Oh. . .” Mrs. Russo stood and ran her fingers through Lorelei’s hair and forced a smile. “We’re just happy. You know, adults cry sometimes when they’re happy.”

  Lorelei didn’t look convinced. “What are you all so happy about?” Her gaze shifted from person to person until it came to land on Chris. His heart flew into his throat the minute their eyes locked. For a moment, no one said anything. Finally, Adrianne spoke up.

  “Lorelei, this is the friend I told you about. Chris.”

  “Ooh.” Lorelei’s eyes widened in merriment. “The one you went on the date with?”

  Chris couldn’t hide his smile.

  “Um, well, yes.” Adrianne nodded. “We went to dinner together.”

  “He looks like that man in the picture, Mom.” Lorelei took a step in his direction, but Chris’s gaze shifted at once to Adrianne.

  “What picture?” Adrianne’s eyes grew large.

  “You know.” Lorelei crossed her arms, a pensive look on her face. “That picture you hide in your underwear drawer.”

  Chris’s heart almost sang aloud at her words. So, she had been thinking about him. Even after all these years, she’d kept his picture close by.

  Adrianne leaned her head into her hands, then looked up with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, he does kind of look like that guy, doesn’t he?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  She—his daughter, his Lorelei—gave him another once-over and he attempted a smile.

  Mrs. Russo opted to shift gears, though her red-rimmed eyes still gave her away. “I’ve got a German chocolate cake in the kitchen. Anyone hungry?”

  Chris didn’t know that he could ever eat another bite of food as long as he lived, but he followed along on her heels as she led them into the kitchen. All the while, he stared at the remarkable youngster to his right. My daughter. My little girl. His heart swelled until he thought it would burst. Suddenly, much of the anger he’d felt—even the sting of betrayal— seemed to lessen. When he looked at this little angel, he was suddenly filled with possibilities, nothing else.

  As they settled down at the table, Lorelei chattered merrily about a dream she’d been having before they’d awakened her. Something about singing on a big stage somewhere. He couldn’t seem to focus on her story. No, he was blown away by her very presence. She looked remarkably like Adrianne.

  And yet she shared so many of his characteristics, right down to the eye color and the hair. The nose was Adrianne’s, to be sure. And the lyrical sound of her laughter. Just like her mother.

  At one point, she looked his way, cheeks flaming pink as she announced, “My mom wore her brand-new dress just for you.”

  “She did?” Chris peered over at Adrianne, whose expression still seemed guarded.

  Adrianne nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

  “I want to get dressed up and go out on a date,” Lorelei said with a pout.

  “Oh no. You’re never dating.” Chris and Mr. Russo spoke in unison. Chris clamped a hand to his mouth the moment the words were spoken. Where had they come from?

  Lorelei gave him a quizzical look. “How come?”

  “Well, I, um. . .” He looked to Adrianne for support.

  “When you’re old enough,” she explained, “then you can date.”

  “But I want to look pretty like my mom.” Lorelei leaped from her seat and pressed herself into her mother’s lap, where at once she began to play with Adrianne’s hair.

  Adrianne’s mom chuckled. “You don’t have to date to look pretty. You look pretty right now.”

  You’re beautiful, in fact.

  “I want my mom’s hair.”

  Chris watched it all in silence, his throat suddenly constricted. My daughter and my. . . The word wife entered his min
d but then disappeared just as quickly. Lord, you know my heart. You know my greatest desire right now is for—

  “No one has prettier hair than you.” Adrianne buried her face into Lorelei’s hair after speaking the words. Her tears started again. She wept in silence, but Lorelei wasn’t fooled.

  “Are you happy again, Mom?”

  Adrianne glanced across the table at Chris and nodded. “I am.”

  “She must really like you a lot.” Lorelei bounced from her mom’s lap and approached him. Chris wanted to scoop her up into his arms, wanted to plant kisses on her forehead. Wanted to tell her that he loved her—more than life itself.

  Instead, he nodded lamely. “I like her a lot, too.”

  “You do?” Lorelei’s eyes grew large as she turned to face her mother. “He likes you a lot, Mom.”

  Adrianne brushed away the tears and nodded without responding.

  Say something, Adrianne. Say that you love me. . .that we’re supposed to be together. Say that. . .

  “It’s way past your bedtime.” As Adrianne stood, the bottom of the chair legs scraped against the tile floor with a squeal. “We should be getting home.”

  “Do we have to go?” Lorelei whimpered.

  Chris’s heart echoed her sentiments. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t ever want to leave this room for fear he would lose everything he had suddenly gained.

  And yet another world awaited. The wedding. Tomorrow afternoon. Downtown. He had to be there for Stephen, had to fulfill his obligation.

  Fulfill your obligation.

  For the first time, he thought about the fact that Adrianne and her family had taken on both the emotional and financial obligation of raising Lorelei up to this point. He would change that. Immediately. He would make sure she was taken care of, that she had everything she needed and more.

  Whoa. Slow down, man. You can’t change everything in one night.

  Lorelei flashed her mother a woeful smile, in an attempt to sway her, no doubt. “Can’t we just stay here tonight? Puh-leeze?”