A Mother's Conviction (Secrets Series Book 3)

by Karen Lenfestey

  Turning to face her, Beth scowled. “Well, I believe a mother’s job is to provide a safe, nurturing environment. Like you said, it can be a cruel world. Home shouldn’t be.”

  Gola squinted back at her and looked as if she could stab her right then and there. It was probably a look she’d used in prison and it made Beth shiver. “Don’t tell me how to be a mother. I’m her real mother and that’s all that matters.”

  Nobody spoke for a long time after that. Beth decided it was time for lunch. Willow sat next to her in the booth and left Gola alone on the other side.

  After they ordered, Gola looked at Willow. “Hey, I’m sorry I called you a baby. Sometimes I talk to you the way my mother talked to me. It’s like instinct, but I don’t wanna be like her. She was mean. Said she was doing me a favor, toughening me up, but look how great I turned out.” She made a sour face.

  Beth took a deep breath and allowed Gola’s apology to sink in. It was easy to repeat the parenting style you’d experienced yourself. She’d caught herself saying, “Why? Because I said so” more than once, even though she’d sworn when she became a mother, she’d take the time to explain things.

  Willow took a drink of her water. “It’s okay. I am a baby sometimes.”

  Gola fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers. “Well, you’ll always be my baby.” She pointed to a scar on her knuckles. “See that?”

  Willow nodded. “How’d that happen?”

  “Put my hand through a window when they told me they’d terminated my parental rights to you.”

  “What does that mean?” Willow asked.

  Gola shrugged. “It means I have to prove to a judge that I’m ready to be your mother again.”

  Willow’s mouth twitched to the side as she looked at Beth, but she didn’t say anything. It seemed as if the little wheels inside of her brain were turning. “Are you gonna take Skye back, too?”

  “That’s the plan. Get the whole family together under one roof.”

  Later, on the train ride home, Willow fell asleep with her head on Gola’s shoulder. As Beth studied the little girl’s contented face, she felt her insides twist into knots.

  Once they were home, Beth put Willow to bed and asked Gola if she could stay and talk for a while.

  “Actually, that would be nice.”

  “I’ll make us something to drink. Have a seat.” A few minutes later, Beth poured hot water into the tea cups painted with roses that she’d found at an antique shop. She placed a basket with an assortment of tea bags in front of Gola, then joined her at the kitchen table. “Willow had a lot of fun today.”

  “Me, too. Thanks for paying for everything. Chicago is crazy expensive.” Gola took her time selecting a flavor. She picked one up, considered it, then put it back. It had probably been years since she’d had so many choices.

  “No problem.” Waiting for her pumpkin spice to infuse into the steaming water, Beth added some Stevia.

  Gola finally made her selection then studied her porcelain cup. “You must have a good job. What do you do?”

  “I work for Healthy Habits Vitamins and Herbs. I was the head of customer service for ten years and now I work in their marketing department.”

  “Healthy Habits? Is that the mail-order company?”

  “Yep. They have retail locations, too. And you plan to work in a salon, right?”

  “I’ll make okay money, but nothing like you.” Gola looked around the house, her eyes landing on the grandfather clock in the corner. “I hope Willow doesn’t expect to keep living the high life.”

  Taking a sip too soon, Beth burned her tongue. As she blew on her drink, she considered whether she wanted to assure Gola it would be fine or if she wanted to fight for custody. “Willow is very resilient, as you know.”

  “God, she’s grown so much since I last saw her. I can’t believe it.” Gola pulled the chewed gum from her mouth and stuck it on the gold-rimmed saucer next to her cup. “She looks so much like her older sister.”

  Beth pictured Skye with her black hair and hauntingly blue eyes. The girls were definitely related. But Willow had suffered a great deal more since the accident. “You should know that Willow sees a physical therapist for her leg.”

  “That must be expensive. How much does that run ya?”

  “Actually, the state pays for it since she’s in foster care. I can find out for you, though.” It was time to stop steeping before it turned bitter. She dared to take another sip.

  Gola sighed. “I hope I can afford it.” She tasted the tea, made a disapproving face, then put a spoonful of sugar in it. The spoon clanged against the antique cup as it went around and around. “What about that scar on her face? Can’t they do plastic surgery or something for that?”

  Suddenly Beth wanted to dump sugar in her cup, too, but she resisted. “She’s had surgery. The doctors say she’ll always have that scar.”

  “That’s too bad. She’s never gonna find a man who wants her.”

  Her spine stiffened. This was hitting a little too close to home. “A woman can be perfectly happy without a man.”

  “I guess you’re right. I’ve been looking for a man to make me happy for years and it hasn’t worked.” Gola tossed her ebony hair behind her shoulder. “You ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

  Beth felt her face warm. “I’m not gay. I have a boyfriend.”

  “So why do you live alone?”

  To buy time to consider her response, Beth took another sip of tea. “It’s complicated.”

  “Is he married?”

  “God, no.” Beth couldn’t believe Gola would even think such a thing. “He’s divorced and we’re both content with things the way they are.” After all, Gola didn’t need to know everything. A little lie would make this conversation easier.

  “Ha! You mean he doesn’t want to get married.”

  She squirmed in the kitchen chair, but then gave in to a small smile. “You’re right. We love each other, but he doesn’t want to get married.”

  “Well, you’d better not waste any more time on him. You’re not exactly getting any younger.”

  This woman sure knew how to step on Beth’s raw nerves. “Sometimes life doesn’t turn out exactly the way you pictured it, but that’s okay. I’m pretty lucky. I have a job I like, I have a house, and I have Willow.” She regretted verbalizing the last part as soon as she said it.

  “I’ve been told the soonest I can get Willow back is probably six months. Until then, I’ll call and visit whenever I can.”

  Just to have a distraction, Beth ran her finger along the gold-painted rim. “Sure. I think that would make it easier on Willow.” But it would be torture for Beth. “So, are you going to AA or something?”

  “My probation officer said I’m required to. When I get back to Tennessee, I’ll find a meeting. As soon as they released me, I headed here to see my baby.”

  “Of course.” Beth stared at the brown liquid. Acid pooled in her gut. If she drank any more, she might throw up. Maybe Willow didn’t have to leave. Maybe Willow could live there forever. She wasn’t sure what was best anymore. “It’s getting late.” She dumped her tea into the sink and her good manners overtook her. “Do you have somewhere to stay tonight or would you like to sleep on the couch?”

  “Actually, I could use a place to crash. Thanks.”

  Walking down the hall to the linen closet, Beth wondered if she’d made a mistake. Was Gola going to steal from her while she slept? She was an ex-con after all. But she’d never done anything intentionally to hurt someone else. Unless you considered leaving her kids alone in a dirty apartment without any food intentional. It was hard to reconcile this woman who seemed desperate to get her kids back with the person she’d heard about. But Willow’s limp and scar also told of a self-centered woman. Had Gola ever apologized for what she’d done to Willow?

  After returning to the living room, Beth tossed the sheets and pillow on the couch. She decid
ed Gola could make her own bed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next morning Bethany fantasized about waffles topped with strawberries and whipped cream as she slowly started to wake up. Her belly rumbled just before she heard Willow cry, “Where’s Momma?”

  Remembering her unexpected overnight guest, Beth jumped out of bed. She rushed to the living room to see the couch was empty except for a mess of twisted sheets. Willow searched each room, calling, “Momma? Momma?” Her voice grew higher with each disappointment. Beth noticed Gola’s backpack was gone, too.

  After making the rounds, Willow stood beside her. Staring at the vacant couch, the girl’s eyes filled with tears. “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

  Beth reached down and gave her a hug. “Sorry, Sweet Pea. She said she’d call, though.” Where had she gone? You’d think she’d want to spend as much time as possible with Willow after all of these years apart. “Yesterday was fun, though, wasn’t it?”

  “Uh-huh.” She was sobbing.

  Her heart aching, Beth worried that Gola’s visit had done more damage than good. “What was your favorite part?”

  “I liked the boat ride. No, the best part was when Momma brushed my hair.” Willow pulled away and touched her frizzy braid.

  “I brush your hair.” Beth’s muscles clenched. Suddenly she was in competition with someone and she didn’t like it.

  “Yeah, but it’s not the same. Momma has the magic touch.” The tears had been replaced by a wistful look.

  Sighing, Beth decided not to argue. “Why don’t you get dressed for church while I make us some oatmeal?” Unfortunately, waffles with whipped cream was an indulgence her hips couldn’t afford.

  “Can we go to Papa’s church?”

  Willow knew that her Papa was a minister and they’d visited Mee-maw at the church many times, but they’d never attended Sunday services there. How could Beth deny the child anything at this point? So they went.

  After the sermon, she sat in the pew with Willow and told her to wait. Beth’s father stood at the back of the church, shaking hands and saying goodbye to the parishioners. She wanted to talk to him alone, but it was starting to look like she’d never get the chance. Finally, she rose and encouraged Willow to come with her.

  An elderly woman came up to them and squeezed Beth’s hand. ”Welcome to our church. Are you new to South Bend?”

  “Actually, Dr. Morris is my father.” Until five months ago, it had been years since she’d attended any church, but now that she had a child, it only felt right. She wanted Willow to learn about right and wrong. She wanted Willow to know the love of a congregation.

  “Bethany? I didn’t recognize you. Is this your daughter?”

  Nodding, Beth stroked the girl’s crown. She was a little embarrassed at the condition of Willow’s hair. The child had insisted on keeping yesterday’s braid intact, so Beth had done her best to smooth it down.

  The old woman opened her Vera Bradley purse and pulled out a butterscotch. She looked at Willow. “Would you like a piece of candy?”

  Clinging to Beth’s thigh, Willow gazed at her foster mom for approval.

  Beth smiled. “It’s okay.”

  The woman handed the yellow cellophane-wrapped candy to Willow while she addressed Beth. “How’s your mother doing?”

  “Good.” So she assumed. She’d tried to call her a few times, but the calls always got dropped quickly. She hadn’t had a good conversation with her mom in a week and it was killing her. “Well, I need to talk to my dad. It’s nice to see you. Have a good day.” She and Willow headed toward the small crowd surrounding her father. After standing there for a few minutes while another woman told her dad about her bursitis, Beth realized she needed Plan B. Finally, she had her chance and she jumped in. “Hey, Dad. Would you mind watching Willow for a couple of hours?”

  “No problem. She can come down to the basement and help serve refreshments. Then she can help me with next week’s sermon.” He winked at Willow who giggled.

  “Thanks.” She hugged Willow good-bye and headed to Parker’s place. After talking to Gola, Beth felt as if she needed reassurance that her boyfriend did love her. It was stupid, she knew, but the woman had knocked her world off-kilter.

  Fifteen minutes later, she sat on Parker’s worn leather couch and stared at the empty fireplace. He rested his arm behind her back in a way that made her feel safe.

  “How did it go yesterday?” he asked.

  “Pretty good. I have mixed feelings, though.”

  “Is Gola still drinking?”

  “No, I don’t think so. She chews gum like crazy, so maybe that’s her way of dealing with stress.”

  “Well, that’s good. How was Willow with her?”

  “It was awkward at first, but it didn’t take long for Willow to warm up to her.”

  He dropped his hand onto her shoulder and rubbed it gently. “I bet that was hard to watch.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes. “Yeah.” She didn’t speak for a minute, trying to regain her composure. She hated to cry—especially in front of people. She took a deep breath. “Here’s my dilemma. I always assumed that Willow living with me would be temporary, but I thought her mom would be in prison a lot longer. I hadn’t considered that she might get out early on parole. The thing is, Gola doesn’t automatically get Willow back.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “I always thought kids stayed in foster care however long it took for their parents to get their acts together, but they passed a law that severs parental rights if they don’t have any contact with their kids for fifteen months.”

  “But she was in jail. How was she supposed to see Willow?”

  Beth shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not sure if it’s fair or not. I mean, it’s not fair to these kids to be raised in the system, either. This way, if someone wants to adopt them, they can.”

  “Are you saying you want to adopt Willow?”

  Swallowing, she didn’t know what to say. “Maybe.”

  “Even though her mom wants her back now?”

  “That’s the problem. I want to do what’s right. I want to do what’s best for Willow. I’m just not sure what that is.” She dropped her head and rested it on his shoulder.

  He gently touched her hair. “Wow. That’s tough.” He paused. “What does Willow want?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think I should ask her or would that be too much pressure for a six-year-old?”

  “If you go to court, won’t the judge ask her who she wants to live with anyway?”

  “I guess so. Gosh, court. I don’t want to put Willow through something like that.”

  “What does your gut tell you?”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t know about my gut, but what my heart really wants is to keep Willow.” Suddenly her eyes landed on a suitcase near the hallway. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “Back to Africa. The school’s almost built and I’m bringing books and supplies. I leave on Wednesday.”

  Wednesdays were usually date night, but without her mom to babysit, it’d been cancelled. Feeling abandoned by everyone—her mom and now her boyfriend, she stood and headed for the arched front door. “Of course. Go.”

  He rushed toward her and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t be mad. You’re so busy these days, you’ll hardly even notice I’m gone.” He held her until she relaxed. “I love you.”

  “Yeah. I love you, too.” She looked up at him. “I know we don’t see each other that much now that I’m a foster parent, but I treasure our time together. And Willow loves it when you come over for dinner and you push her on the swing.”

  His bushy eyebrows drew together and he cracked his knuckles. “I think we both have a lot of soul-searching to do while I’m gone.”

  “How would you feel if I adopted Willow?” What she wanted was for him to tell her what to do. It would be so much easier that way.

  He shook his head. “I can’t answer that.”

  She jerked open the fron
t door. “Have a nice trip.” The door slammed behind her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Melodie awoke Thanksgiving morning to a forty-six pound girl jumping on her bed.

  “It snowed! It snowed! Wake up, Mommy.” Zoe clapped her hands together.

  “Okay. Settle down.” She looked at Zoe in her Lego movie T-shirt and long johns. “Go get dressed. We need to leave for your uncle’s place soon.” Again, she was relieved he’d offered to host this year, so she could focus on her job hunt and prepare the house for sale. Although she still hadn’t put those family photos away, like the real estate agent had suggested.

  Her daughter jumped again and landed on her knees on the bed. “I think we’re gonna need Santa and his sleigh to get there.”

  “What?” Melodie tossed the comforter aside and went to the window. She pulled the drapes back and gasped. The snow made it impossible to tell where the driveway met the road. Because of the drifting winds, some banks were as high as Zoe’s belly button. “I wonder when they’re going to plow.” She knew these country roads remained a low priority when they had state roads and highways to clear. Since it was a holiday, would they get better or worse service? Probably worse.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Zoe’s blonde eyelashes were practically invisible as she stared at the shiny snow.

  “I’d better get out there and clear the driveway.” She threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, figuring she’d shower and change clothes later.

  “I’m hungry. Aren’t you gonna eat, Mommy?”

  Melodie pulled the snowsuit from the back of her closet. “Go ahead and eat some cereal without me.”

  “Okay.” Zoe ran down the hall and hummed as she clanked around in the kitchen. By the time Melodie walked by, Zoe was creating a tunnel with the Cheerios, frosted shredded wheat and Lucky Charms boxes.

  “Maybe you can build a snow fort with your cousins after dinner.” Melodie stepped out into the garage and grabbed a shovel. Her eyes landed on the snow blower in the corner that Paul would’ve used. The last time she’d tried to start it, it had just sputtered. Her dad said it was probably because the gas had gone bad sitting in the tank for so long. Apparently, she was supposed to run the tank until it was empty at the end of the winter season. She sighed, frustrated at all of the things it seemed men knew that she didn’t.