Kari’s musings turned toward the trunk in the garage’s attic and how thrilled she had been to find it filled with Alicia Granger’s beautiful gowns and handbags.
But she wasn’t Alicia Granger. She was a stranger with a false name! Not my grandmother! she realized. Not Daddy’s mother at all.
Lies.
They stole Daddy from his family. They stole his life.
They stole my life, too. They stole my family and my heritage from Daddy and from me.
Not Peter Granger, but Dean Morgan.
The very name of Morgan fanned emotions she did not recognize.
Sorry about taking the wrong child, O’Dell . . .
Matthew’s voice . . . He decided to keep Edmund because . . . because it was the most painful way to punish Mother and Dad.
Dean Morgan. Peter Granger.
Demanding thoughts began to jitter about in her head: Dean Morgan took Joy’s baby boy! He took my father from his real parents! That evil, evil man stole my father’s life!
. . . He decided to keep Edmund because it was the most painful way to punish Mother and Dad.
Dean Morgan. Peter Granger.
Anger toward Dean Morgan was kindling within her.
That evil beast!
Her chest tightened as her emotions rose.
Dean Morgan. Peter Granger.
Fury toward the man who had posed as her father’s uncle uncoiled in her chest and found an ember of wrath flickering there. Her rage grew.
Kari felt a primal urge—a visceral need—to strike at this man, this Dean Morgan, this Peter Granger.
Oh, she wanted to hurt him! No—she wanted to destroy him. Her fingers curled until the nails bit into the palms of her hands.
Then Kari could not catch her breath. She leapt out of the chair and swayed unsteadily. Lights sparkled around the edges of her vision. The room began to blur.
“Kari?” Søren stared at her with concern but she could not answer. “Kari, are you all right?”
Owen shouldered his way toward Kari as her body began to slump. “Sit her back down. It’s a panic attack. Just sit her down here until it passes. That’s right.”
Søren did as Owen directed and watched helplessly as Kari struggled to breathe and could not, as she gasped and panted until her eyes fluttered and closed. “You’ve seen this before?”
“Once.”
“Me, too,” he realized.
Linda ran to fetch a wet cloth.
“It was too much, Matthew,” Luke accused. “Too much for anyone!”
“No.” Søren’s single word was quiet but forceful. “She is stronger than you think. And she had to be told. I’m tired of hiding the truth from her.”
“I agree.” Alannah took the cold, wet cloth from Linda and laid it on Kari’s forehead. “We are Kari’s family. She has been longing for us her whole life. This is just a reaction; she will get past it.”
Kari’s chest rose and fell convulsively and then she began to come around. “Wha—what happened?”
Owen knelt beside her chair. “You had an anxiety attack, Kari. You’ll be right as rain soon.”
“But . . . everything they said?”
“Take as much time as you need to think it through. Don’t rush. It’s all good news—nothing to worry over.”
Søren and Ilsa motioned the rest of them into the kitchen and after a while Kari could distinguish the sounds of chairs scraping and plates rattling, Ilsa serving her guests coffee and dessert.
As the weakness left her, Kari finished muddling through what Matthew and the others had told her and finally focused on Owen’s encouragement: It’s all good news—nothing to worry over.
Her brows furrowed. Is he right? Is it all good news?
Again Matthew’s words tumbled through her mind. Grant and Joy Michaels were your grandparents. Rose Thoresen was your great-grandmother.
Could it really all be true?
Someone was coming back into the living room.
Søren sat across from her in the chair Matthew had used. “How are you feeling, Kari?”
“I’ll be all right soon.”
“You gave us all a fright.”
Kari stared into his blue Thoresen eyes. Wait . . . his eyes are like mine, she realized. I have Thoresen eyes?
“It’s a bit much to take in,” she whispered.
“I did want to tell you sooner . . . but Matthew felt he should be the one.”
“I know,” Kari leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. “I still can’t believe that Daddy was Joy and Grant’s son!”
They sat together in silence for a long time.
Kari arose the next morning later than she’d grown accustomed to and found the farm bustling with activity. She entered the kitchen, surprised to find it empty of people—but filled with good smells.
The counters were crowded with stacks of plates, syrup decanters, bowls of stewed cinnamon apples, saucers of butter and jam, and platters of freshly cut fruit. She opened the oven door and saw pans of potatoes, scrambled eggs, muffins, and pancakes warming there.
What in the world . . . Her first cup of coffee in hand, Kari wandered out the back door onto the kitchen porch.
The lawn and pasture below the house were being transformed.
A large white tent, similar to those used for weddings, was going up. At least ten men were hard at work as the three peaks of the tent rose.
Kari spied Søren and Lars unloading tables and chairs from a truck. Ilsa and Dalia were covering tables with cloths. The RVs in which the O’Dells had arrived were parked in a row in the pasture and two others—a camper and a trailer—had joined them.
Max ran up the back steps. “Are you up now?”
“I guess I am,” Kari answered. “What is all this, anyway?”
“It’s a family re-onion.”
“Re-onion? You mean a reunion?”
“Yeah, a re-onion. Everybody’s coming.”
“Everybody? The whole Thoresen family?”
“Oh, more than just Thoresens. The O’Dells, the Carmichaels, the Liángs—the whole family.” He glanced at her shyly. “They all want to meet you, Kari, ’cause you were lost and God founded you and brought you home.”
Home! God brought me home! The import of Max’s words struck a chord of joy in Kari’s breast.
“Aunt Ilsa asked me to see if you were up and could help get breakfast out?”
“Of course.” Kari set her empty coffee cup next to the sink and hefted a stack of plates. “Take those syrup jugs, will you, Max?”
As she walked down the sloping lawn to the tables, the eyes of many noticed and followed her. Ilsa, however, kept Kari running back and forth to the kitchen and she did not have to deal with meeting anyone until breakfast.
Then the floodgates opened. Ilsa made sure to stick close to Kari and make introductions. Kari grew used to receiving both a name and a relationship description but none of it seemed to stay in her head.
“Kari, this is Darren O’Dell, Matthew and Linda’s grandson, and his wife Patsy.”
“We’re praising God for bringing you home, Kari. You are one of our family’s miracles.”
Smiles, hugs, handshakes, more hugs.
“Kari, may I introduce Bryce and Tess Carmichael and their children? Bryce is Sean Carmichael’s son—Alannah’s brother.”
“We’ve heard so much about you, Kari. Welcome to the family. You are an answer to prayer.”
More smiles and hugs.
“Kari, these are our Omaha Thoresen cousins, Arnie Thoresen’s grandchildren . . .”
The next hour was both wonderful and overwhelming for Kari as many more people arrived and queued up to meet her.
After Kari had greeted An-Shing and Fen-Bai, Ilsa said, “Kari, this is our good friend, Sunny Richards.”
“Yes; I know Sunny. I need to drive in and have you make me another one of your fantastic sodas! How are you? How has business been?”
“I think the
more important question is, how are you, Kari? Your head must be ready to explode!”
Kari laughed and it felt good. “You know, Sunny, that’s not far off the mark.”
“Well, I’ve been praying for you. Ever since Mixxie called me and since we met.”
“I really thank you, Sunny. It’s quite an adjustment—will continue to be an adjustment, I think. Speaking of Mixxie, is she coming?”
Ilsa answered for Sunny. “I believe she will arrive this morning with Quan and Shan-Rose.”
“Shan-Rose is coming?” Kari was delighted.
“That reminds me. Would you mind very much letting Shan-Rose have your room? It will be just for tonight. We have another room upstairs, but she cannot climb stairs as you know. Mixxie will take care of her in your room, if that is all right.”
“It is absolutely all right,” Kari replied. “I will be so happy to see her!”
After breakfast Kari managed to escape for a while. She cleared her things out of her bedroom and moved them to the little room upstairs next to Ilsa’s. She put fresh linens on her bed for Shan-Rose and straightened the bathroom.
When she was done, she crept to the screened-in back porch. She just wanted to be alone for a bit. From the porch she could observe quietly as more people arrived and greeted each other. Those who came brought more food, lawn chairs, and laughter. The pasture now boasted eleven RVs of various sizes. Someone played a guitar and the sounds of singing floated up to Kari.
As the sun grew warmer, the adults gravitated to the tent. The sides were rolled up or tied back, and large fans kept cool air circulating inside. A horde of children, Max included, ran up and down the lawn, involved in loud games and general running amok.
They are having such fun, Kari mused, watching the children. They take their many brothers and sisters and cousins for granted. They don’t know what it’s like not to have family.
Kari watched it all from her solitary perch on the porch. Each time she recalled the fresh news that this was her family, she felt the same stab of awe, of shock.
All of these people, she sighed. All of these people are my family. My heritage. It was more than she could handle.
Oh, Rose! I had no idea of the consequences, the commotion, finding your journal would stir up!
“Doing okay?” Søren plopped down next to her on the cushioned bench. He was hot, and perspiration dripped from his face. He tilted his head back, letting a stream of ice water run down his throat.
“Yes. It’s wonderful.”
“But a bit much, huh?”
She nodded. “I think my face is going to crack if I smile one more time.”
He looked at her then and cupped her chin in his hand, making a show of critically examining first one side of her face and then the other. “Doesn’t look cracked to me . . .”
Their eyes met and Søren asked a silent question. Kari blinked and looked down.
“No, please . . . I’m not ready for anything like that, Søren,” Kari whispered. “I-I’ve made so many bad choices. I don’t want you to be another one. Your friendship means so much to me but I . . . I want to give all my devotion to my new love for God. For now.”
“I understand,” he croaked. “Sorry.”
“Please don’t let this ruin everything,” Kari added. “I couldn’t bear it.”
“I will respect your wishes, Kari,” Søren said quietly. After an awkward pause, he added, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “But it’s okay, you know. We being cousins and all.”
Kari laughed, and the tension eased. “Kissing cousins? Wow. I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “Cousins! But-but that means—”
“We aren’t that close of cousins,” Søren growled. “You have Rose and Jan’s blood flowing in your veins; I have Jan’s but not Rose’s. We’re only half cousins—and several times removed at that.
“So you’ve thought about it, have you?” Kari answered, arching her brows.
“Uh, well, I guess . . . maybe.”
“Oh?” Kari challenged him.
“Yeah, well . . . we can talk about that later. In the meantime . . . friends?”
Kari sighed, relieved. “Yes. Please.”
Without further words, they got up and rejoined the others in the yard below.
More relatives and close friends arrived that morning, including Quan, who brought Shan-Rose and Mixxie. Kari’s meeting with Shan-Rose was precious. The tiny old woman held Kari’s face in her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. “Edmund’s daughter! Joy and Grant’s granddaughter!” she sobbed. “Kari, you are more precious to me than gold. Thank you for finding your way home to us.”
Mixxie glanced at Kari and then away. She said nothing. No defiance or anger flared in her dark, black-lined eyes. It was as though the air had gone out of the girl, leaving her deflated and flat.
“You know Mixxie better than I do—what is wrong with her?” Kari asked Sunny.
“Wrong? I would rather say ‘right,’” Sunny sighed. “She’s having to face reality, having to face some things that she had given up faith in. It’s making her confront the condition of her own heart. She will, I hope, make some right choices soon.”
Kari turned her head to look for Mixxie, curious about the girl. She was taken aback to find that Mixxie was looking toward her.
What was disturbing to Kari was the sadness she found etched on Mixxie’s face.
Kari managed to interact with all the strangers who were now—without any prior notice or emotional preparation—her family.
I cannot believe I belong here, to all these people, Kari rejoiced in wonder. She gave what she could of herself to the crush of strangers smiling and welcoming her into its bosom.
It was exhilarating.
It was healing.
It was exhausting.
After a few hours she had to take a break from it all. She walked alone down the lawn into the apple trees and, without planning to, found herself wandering up the knoll to the little graveyard.
She placed her hand on the wrought iron gate. This is the Thoresen family cemetery. My family’s cemetery. My family!
The gate opened under her hand and she stepped inside. No longer a stranger, no longer an outsider, she walked among the graves with new eyes.
Jan and Elli! Kristen. Karl and Amalie. Søren and Meg. Children and grandchildren; nephews, nieces, cousins. All mine. My family. My heritage.
“My prairie heritage,” she breathed. Suddenly she couldn’t get to Rose and Joy’s graves fast enough. She skirted around the plots and reached the back where Rose, Joy, and Edmund O’Dell’s simple resting places were.
“Rose!” Kari murmured. “How can it be that you are my great-grandmother? Somehow God, our awesome God, used your words to draw me here. And Joy! You are my real grandmother—my daddy’s real mother.”
She fell to her knees between Rose and Joy’s graves, tears streaming from her eyes. She didn’t try to stem the flood; instead, she accepted it and welcomed its cleansing, healing release.
“My prairie heritage,” she wept. “I read what you wrote about your prairie heritage, Rose, and I longed for it! How I longed for it! I longed to be yours and to have you wrap your arms around me! And now . . . your heritage is mine, too! My family prayed me home! All my life they have been praying and believing that our God would bring Edmund home and now . . . he has . . . through me.”
Kari stretched herself out between the two graves and laid her forehead on the grass. “O Lord! she prayed, “I see now that you never forgot daddy. He came to know you even though he never knew the truth about his parents. Now their faith is answered; now he is with them in heaven!
“And you kept your hand on me all those long, lonely years. At just the right time, you moved to lead me here—to lead me home. O Lord! Your ways are past finding out. How can I ever thank you?”
There, lying between the soft mounds of Rose and Joy’s graves, Kari’s sobs finished. Quite naturally, she slipped into a peaceful sleep.
<
br /> The morning and afternoon of food, games, and conversation were to transition to a song fest and then an evening barbecue. Refreshed and somehow settled, Kari rejoined the family throng.
During the lull before the afternoon drew toward evening, Kari caught Matthew and asked for a moment of his time. “Uncle Matthew?” As awkward as calling him “uncle” felt, Kari was warming to the idea. The sweetness in his eyes drew her to him.
“Yes, Kari?”
“I-I have something to tell you, to give to you.”
“All right.” They walked away from the others and strolled side-by-side toward the little orchard.
Kari held tightly to the cloth bag as she brought it out from behind her back. “I want to tell you thank you, first of all, for allowing me to keep Rose’s journal.”
He nodded. “That little book has been God’s chosen tool for many good things, don’t you agree?”
“So many good things! Most of all, Rose’s words led me to Jesus.”
They stopped and Matthew slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “To hear that my brother Edmund was a follower of Christ—and that now you are—is a very large answered prayer, indeed. I was confident in faith that I would see him in heaven someday. Now I am confident in fact.”
“Did you know how angry I was when Clover first told me Daddy was a Christian?” Kari whispered. “I had no idea that God was using Daddy’s faith in the Savior to draw me to Jesus.”
“We rarely see the hand of our great God when he is at work, but later? Later we can clearly make out how marvelous his plans and provisions are.
Matthew stopped walking. “But my dear, before we go any further, I have something to give you.”
“But . . . you have already . . .” Kari didn’t know what to say.
Matthew patted her cheek. “Dear Kari. I’ll bet you don’t know that after Edmund was taken—after Grandma Rose’s journal disappeared—that she started another journal?”
“No.” Kari could hardly breathe. “I didn’t know. She wrote another journal?”
“Her journals fill three more volumes, to be exact. My brothers and I have discussed this and we are in agreement. They should have gone to Joy’s eldest son and his family, so we want you to have them, to be their keeper for posterity.”
Lost Are Found (A Prairie Heritage, Book 6) Page 30
