She nodded, alarm in her eyes. “I’m Violet Crenshaw.”
Jake couldn’t believe Remy had shown up. Though he’d given Remy this last opportunity to claim Abby, he’d assumed she was still selfish and rebellious and wouldn’t show. He wanted to rail against her return. Seeing the pain on Violet’s face multiplied his own.
He stepped to Violet’s side and put his arm around her waist, the two of them united as a team. Yet Remy hadn’t mentioned taking Abby. Maybe he stood a chance. “You sound as if you’re not sure what you want to do. I can tell you I’m positive what I want. I want to adopt Abby.”
“Ever since you sent those photos of Abigail, I’ve doubted my decision. I started meeting with a counselor and got help from Florence Phillips from the shelter where I used to stay. I went to a weeklong parenting class in the evenings.”
Why had he tried to entice Remy to come back? Why on earth hadn’t he just gone straight to the lawyer as soon as he realized he loved Abby and was capable of caring for her?
“We’ve been happy,” Jake said. “Abby is loved...no, adored, and is doing well. I... We...will take good care of your child.”
A flash of the old Remy sparked in her eyes. “That’s just it, Jake. She’s my child. And I want her back.”
Terror shot through him, making his stomach clench. How could he ever be assured Remy was off drugs? That she wouldn’t get overwhelmed and take off again—leaving Abby in someone else’s care?
He gripped Violet tighter, hoping she’d speak up, with personal as well as professional advice. But she remained rooted in place, holding Abby to her chest, patting the baby’s back as if to comfort Abby as well as maybe herself.
Jake needed to get control of the situation. Needed to try to sound kind and understanding when every cell in him wanted to shout for Remy to get out. “Come sit down, and we can talk.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I know you’ve grown attached to Abigail...Abby. But you gave me a deadline, and I arrived before that deadline. I’m in a much better place now and want my baby back.”
“You signed a paper.”
“But nothing official.”
“You deserted your daughter.”
“I appreciate all you’ve done to help me. But now I’m back.” She reached in a bag. “I totally understand your concerns. That’s why I’ve brought copies of random drug tests I’ve had at my job and while I stayed at the shelter, proving I’ve been clean for over a year. Here’s the rental agreement for the transitional housing I live in, showing I’ve been paying my rent. I also have a certificate for the parenting class I completed. Have pay stubs to show you I’ve been working full-time. And I have copies of my transcript so you can see I’m studying to become a certified nursing assistant.”
As she set a thick file folder on the table, her gaze bore into his, determined. “There’s also a list of phone numbers of everyone I associate with—counselor, teachers, boss, shelter director, pastor. I gave permission to tell you anything about me. Call them. Check on me.” She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring.
“Remy, come on,” he said.
“I’m not confused anymore. I love my daughter and want her back.” Remy walked over to Abby and rubbed her back. A strangled sob nearly choked her when she touched her child.
Desperate, Jake turned to the woman he loved who held the child he loved. “Violet?” His voice broke. He cleared his throat. “Can you please tell her I’ve been taking good care of Abby?”
“He has, Remy. Your daughter has been in good hands.” Violet slipped out of his grasp. She turned to face him, looking into his eyes. Her bleak expression nearly brought him to his knees.
“I’m sorry, Jake. But I think Remy has shown she’s changed and needs the opportunity to raise her daughter if she wants to.”
Surely she hadn’t just said those words. Surely he’d heard her wrong.
The tortured look in her eyes said otherwise. She really did think he was wrong, and that Abby belonged with her mother.
He sucked in a breath, and shards of ice hacked at his nerve endings. “This is a family matter that’s not any of your business. I think you should leave.”
When Violet flinched, cold steel locked around his heart, walling off the hurt. He had to focus. Abby had to come first. He’d face Violet’s betrayal later.
Violet gently placed the baby in Jake’s arms. As she withdrew, her hand dragged along Abby’s tummy, then legs, then off the tips of her toes, holding contact as long as possible.
Battling a sob, Jake realized his words had hurt Violet. But he didn’t care. She’d turned on him when he needed her most.
“Remy, take good care of this precious girl,” Violet said. Without another glance in Jake’s direction, she slipped out the door, taking his heart with her.
“Jake?”
Think of Abby.
Remy blinked away tears, then held out her arms. “Please?”
When he hesitated, she reached in and gently took the baby. With tears running down her cheeks, she kissed Abby. Then she drew in a deep breath, as if trying to absorb the child’s scent.
“You’ve ignored my emails,” he said to his cousin, trying to fight any sympathy he felt for her. “And from what we’ve gathered, you’ve been in an abusive situation. I won’t let Abby live like that.”
“Jake, I’m exhausted. Could I please stay here tonight? I’d like to spend some time getting reacquainted with Abigail. We can talk more in the morning.”
What if Remy ran off during the night? But what other choice did he have? If he turned Remy away, she’d take Abby with her. “Yeah. But promise me you won’t leave before we talk.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
The problem was, he hadn’t been able to trust Remy for years.
Now, he couldn’t trust Violet, either.
* * *
Numb, Violet drove on autopilot, heading nowhere in particular. She just knew she couldn’t sit in her house with Jake, Remy and Abby so close by.
An hour later, when she hit I-85, she steered her car onto the highway and headed north. She tried to concentrate on the latest article she’d read about antibiotic resistance. On the revised immunization schedule the CDC had put out in January. On the leaky faucet in the office bathroom.
Anything but Jake’s hurtful words or the thought of Abby being taken from him.
She hated that she’d hurt him, but she’d had to do what she thought was right. Of course, she’d gotten entirely too close to the situation to start with. Had started to think of Abby as her child and Jake as...well, she might as well be honest with herself, as her husband. But he wasn’t. And he’d made it clear she had no right to think that way.
She should have listened to her gut, should have avoided falling for him and Abby. How had she been so stupid, gotten so off track from focusing on her career goals? Was it because she missed home and having a family?
She kept driving north for more than an hour, heading out of Georgia into South Carolina. Ironically, toward...home.
When she reached the Greer exit, she took the ramp, crossed back over the highway, then drove five minutes to her parents’ house. She had no clue what she would say to them. But even as dysfunctional as their relationship had been, she knew she needed to see them, to see her family.
She pulled up to the gated entrance and punched in the security code. After speaking to each other at her grandfather’s funeral, her dad had started texting the code to her each time it changed, as if hoping Violet might one day return home. How many of those texts had she deleted, irritated at her father yet trying to ignore the pull they had on her?
But she had remembered each code until he’d send the next one.
The arm of the gate r
ose, allowing her to pass.
Massive homes lined curvy, landscaped streets. Old hardwoods and pines shaded the yards during the day. Now, after 9:00 p.m., outdoor lights discreetly lit driveways and perfectly manicured sidewalks. Violet drove to the back of the neighborhood, the older section where the homes sat on larger lots. Easing toward the front of her parents’ traditional columned brick home, she sucked in a slow, deep breath, her heart pounding.
Not much had changed, except the trees had grown. The shrubs had filled in. She could remember climbing what used to be a small dogwood tree and having her mother come flying out the door to tell her to quit acting like a hooligan and get down, and her dad over in the driveway looking at her with a grin of approval.
Tears stung her eyes.
She eased to the curb in front of her neighbor’s house, put the car in Park and turned the key. When she rolled down the windows, hot humid air rushed inside along with the sound of crickets and tree frogs. Memories assaulted her...
Being freshly bathed, wearing cool, cotton pajamas, waiting up for her parents to arrive home so she could tell them about her boo-boo. And them making a fuss over it as they bandaged her knee and let her have ice cream after her bedtime... Having dinner at the “grown up table” in the formal dining room on Sunday afternoons after church, making her feel special... An impromptu picnic in the backyard, where her mom actually allowed them to eat only doughnuts and chocolate bars at Violet’s request...
And then the fighting when she started dating Hank. Their shock and disappointment when she told them she was pregnant. Their manipulating to try to do damage control.
So many years had passed since then. More than a decade. Her son would be a teenager. And she’d missed it all, didn’t know him at all.
She didn’t even know her mom and dad anymore.
And they didn’t know her.
She could simply get out of the car. Go ring the doorbell. Tell them she’d discovered that she needed family after all. She could explain to them how they’d hurt her when they made her give up her baby, but that she’d begun to learn God could turn things to good, that she’d like to try to let the past go and move on. But what she most wanted to tell them was that a certain man and precious baby had shown her what family could be like.
Unable to hold it at bay any longer, the pain of losing Jake and Abby rolled over her. As she leaned forward and sobbed, tears flowed down her cheeks onto the steering wheel.
Lord, why? Why allow me to fall in love with Jake and Abby only to rip them away from me?
Could she have done anything differently? Should she have supported Jake? Maybe, without her past, she would have taken his side. Maybe she’d let her past weigh too heavily on her decision to back Remy.
No, she truly believed that Remy had gotten her act together and deserved a chance at being a mother. If Violet had it to do over, she would say the same thing she’d said earlier to Jake.
Had Violet’s parents agonized like this? Camilla had told Jake they wanted to apologize, they regretted their decision. Would they make the same decision again if faced with a pregnant teen daughter?
A rumbling sound started in the back of the house and grew louder. Her dad appeared, wheeling the trash bin to the end of the driveway. Violet sucked in her breath and held it, fearing he might spot her before she was prepared to go in.
“Buford, are you still out there?” her mother called from the side porch door.
Hearing her voice...Violet pressed a hand to her lips, holding in a sudden sob.
“Yes,” her dad answered. “Setting out the garbage can.”
He’d probably also spent time puttering in the garden by moonlight.
“Your answering service is on the phone.”
“Be right there.” Shaking his head, he hurried back up the driveway to the house, where he would check in with the hospital and probably rush off to perform surgery, like a million nights before.
Violet’s heart ached. Her head ached. And now her stomach churned.
She couldn’t go in there and see them right now. Not in the shape she was in tonight.
What she needed right now wouldn’t be found in the Crenshaw home. She needed time to heal, time to regain her strength before contacting her parents.
Why had she let herself think for a minute that Jake and Abby could fill the massive void in her life? Now she only had one option.
Forget Jake.
Forget the way his beard had tickled her lips the first time they’d kissed, the way his deep blue eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his hands looked so big and strong yet at the same time gentle as he held Abby.
Violet sniffed and wiped her eyes. She’d been a fool. Everything had blown up in her face, as she’d feared. It was time to go back into self-protect mode. She needed to pour herself into her work. To grow her practice. Make a name for herself in Appleton. Help children who needed her—not a baby who’d settle in her arms as if Violet were her mother, not a baby who’d steal her heart.
She started the car and pulled away from the curb without looking back.
Total focus on her career would fill this gaping emptiness.
It had to.
Chapter Eleven
Jake woke with a start at 5:00 a.m. An odd sound had roused him. Had it been through the baby monitor?
Remy.
He bolted from bed, throwing on clothes as he rushed across the hallway, his heart thudding in his chest.
In Abby’s room, Remy sat on the bed holding the baby, feeding her a bottle.
Jake threw one hand against the door frame to steady himself while mashing the other hand against his raging heartbeat. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear you in the kitchen making the bottle.”
“You’re probably exhausted from working and watching Abigail.”
“We’ve been calling her Abby for a while now.” His tone sounded combative, but maybe it should. He felt as if he were going to battle for Abby’s welfare.
“I like it. It fits.”
He wanted to tell her the nickname wasn’t her choice any longer since she’d abandoned her daughter. But he needed to calm down. He had to talk Remy into letting him adopt Abby.
The baby slurped down the last of the formula. Remy lifted her to her shoulder and burped her.
“Look, Remy. We need to talk.”
Guilt flashed in her eyes. “Actually, I need to get back for work. Could you please help me gather Abigail—Abby’s—things?”
Hands fisted at his sides, he sucked in a shaky breath. “You said we could talk.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I realized I shouldn’t rush back. I need time to get Abby settled at the day-care center before my shift.” Her eyes saddened. “If I delay, it’ll just make it tougher for you.”
“Then you know how attached I’ve gotten to her. I love her, Remy. You can’t just take off with her like this.”
“Jake, I appreciate all you’ve done for her...and for me.” Her eyes hardened, like the stubborn, rebellious Remy of the past. “But Abby is my child, and I’m ready to be her mother.”
“How can you suddenly be ready to be a mother? Just a couple of weeks ago, you looked strung out and dumped her on me without so much as a phone number. You have no right to—”
“I was not strung out. I was worn-out, frazzled and feeling like the worst mother ever because she wouldn’t stop crying. But now I’m more prepared for motherhood. My postpartum depression is gone.” She stood and placed Abby in her car seat, carefully buckling her in.
“What about the drugs? What about the abusive boyfriend, who I assume is Abby’s father?”
Remy grabbed piles of Abby’s clothes and stuffed them in a piece of luggage that she must’ve brought with her. “I showed you the drug tests. I’m really and truly clean
. And I was telling the truth when I told you Abby’s father died.”
“Then why were you at a shelter?”
“Because he never did get off drugs and I needed to get away from him. He died of an overdose before she was born. That’s when I moved out of the shelter into my apartment.”
“So you’re still living in transitional housing? Is it safe?”
“Yes. It’s about thirty minutes north of Atlanta, so I’m closer to you.” She snatched up her purse, pulled out a piece of paper and held it out to him. “I wrote down all my contact information for you this time. You’re welcome to come visit us anytime.”
“What about all her things?” Helplessly, he pointed to the travel bed and bouncy seat.
“I’ll take that bouncer and new car seat, but for now, let’s leave the bed and changing table here for when we visit you, okay?”
No, it wasn’t okay. But short of calling the police, there was no way he could stop Remy because he’d never filed for legal custody, had never taken the letter she wrote to a lawyer to find out if it was legally binding.
And it probably wasn’t. Not now that she wanted Abby back.
If only Violet was here, maybe she could calmly talk some sense into Remy. But no, Violet would probably be helping usher Remy and Abby out the door.
He raked a hand through his hair. He needed to think straight. If he couldn’t stop Remy, what did Abby need? “What about her formula?”
“I already packed it, along with her bottles and diapers. Thank you for buying her everything I forgot to pack when I brought her here. I’ll pay you back.”
“I don’t want your money,” he snapped. “I want you to do what’s best for Abby.”
Her face softened. She reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t you see, Jakey? That’s what I’m trying to do. As soon as I decided I wanted to raise Abby, I started trying to be more like you, the guy I’ve always looked up to, the dependable one.”
Jakey. She hadn’t called him that since they were kids.
Love Inspired May 2015 #2 Page 16
