Whispering Pines (Celia's Gifts Book 1)

by Kimberly Diede

  Bracing herself for the inevitable puppy assault, Renee caught the dog’s front paws at her waist as Molly greeted her with her usual exuberance. Molly’s paws were crusty with ice but Renee couldn’t tell if she was shivering from excitement, or cold, or both. Glancing around the yard again, Renee felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up for the second time in less than five minutes, neither of which were from the cold. Why was Molly out alone? And why was the back door open? How long had she been out?

  Intent on finding her folks or son to see if they knew why the door was open, Renee ushered Molly back in and closed the door, throwing the deadbolt. The house was quiet. George might already be out for coffee with his buddies, ready to get back to his usual weekday morning routine after the hustle and bustle of Christmas. Some days he dropped Lavonne at her gym for a senior yoga class.

  Molly went straight for her water bowl in the far corner of the kitchen. After a few laps, her ears perked up, and she stared toward the living room, stiffened, and let out a low growl.

  Renee stood still, listening carefully. A couple thumps from the floor above followed by Julie’s shout at Robbie to open the bathroom door snapped Renee into action.

  “What’s the matter with you, Molly?” Renee bit out in exasperation, rushing around the dog to the living room. The front door was locked tight. Open drapes on the large picture window let in weak, watery sunlight. Now Renee—and Molly—heard a crunch on the front porch, setting the dog off in a full-blown barking frenzy.

  Rushing over to the window, Renee saw someone scurrying down the front walk, away from the house. Not sure if she should be alarmed, she watched the person jog to the corner and turn out of sight. The paper boy, maybe, getting a late start to his day?

  Renee pulled the front door open, cold air rushing in. Sure enough, a rolled-up newspaper lay on the top step. Crossing the porch, she grabbed the paper and hustled back toward the house. She was cold, clad only in her robe and socks, but she noticed a package sitting to the left of the door. It was a small white box with a green velvet bow. Renee could see a gift tag below the ribbon. To: Julie was all it said. The From: was left blank. Frustrated, Renee scooped up the little box and went back inside, again making sure to lock the door behind her.

  “What the hell is going on?” Renee muttered. First a bunch of texts on Julie’s phone, then the dog is out back by herself and the door is open, and now a package is sitting on the front porch addressed to Julie. Did her daughter have a secret admirer? That still wouldn’t explain how Molly got out.

  Renee almost hollered up the steps for Julie to come down, but something stopped her. If someone wanted to give her daughter a present, why didn’t they knock and say hello? And come to think of it, who knew Julie was at her grandparents’ house?

  Renee took the small box back to the kitchen and laid it on the table to take a closer look. Maybe she should open it? The box was seven inches long, but less than an inch deep. Deciding to check it before giving it to Julie, Renee carefully slid the ribbon off and undid the tape, taking care not to tear anything. If the gift was a harmless present, she would wrap it back up and give it to Julie. Her motherly paranoia would be satisfied and nobody would be the wiser.

  Lifting the lid off the box, Renee could only see white tissue paper. Folding the tissue back, she was surprised to see a photograph lying at the bottom. No wonder it weighed so little. Gasping in disbelief, Renee stared down at a slightly faded photo of her daughter’s dad, playing happily in the snow with Julie. I remember snapping this picture! It was one of her favorites. How in the world had it ended up in a wrapped box on Renee’s parents’ porch, addressed to Julie?

  Hearing someone coming down the stairs, Renee scooped everything up and shoved the picture, box, and wrappings into her robe pocket.

  Robbie sauntered into the kitchen, pulling a sweatshirt over his Nike T-shirt and shower-dampened head.

  “Hey Mom,” he said. “Anything around here for breakfast?” He barely glanced at his mother as he scratched Molly’s head on his way to the fridge.

  Renee kept a tight grip on the kitchen table, trying to act normal. “Ah, yeah, honey, there’s some orange juice in the fridge and rolls left over from yesterday.” Casually, she added, “Did you let Molly out this morning?”

  Catching something in her tone, Robbie stopped his ransacking of the fridge and looked her way. “Nope. Hey Mom, you look kind of pale. You OK? You look like you saw a ghost.”

  He has no idea how close he is to the truth.

  “I’m fine, Robbie,” Renee replied, keeping her voice even. “I’m just tired from the past few days and, honestly, a little nervous about going to visit your other grandparents. It has been a long time since we last saw them. I’m not sure what to expect.”

  Robbie took this answer easily enough. “Don’t worry, Mom. It’ll be fine. Julie wants to see them—and I kinda do, too. I barely remember them.” Brushing her concerns aside as only a teenager intent on food can, Robbie succeeded in temporarily distracting Renee. Together they shared warmed-up sweet rolls, talking about the times Robbie could remember spending with his father’s parents. He was getting more excited for their big trip, too. He was ready to head back to Minneapolis to pack and go.

  Renee loved catching up with her family, and while she hated to see it end, she was getting excited for their trip to Fiji, too. The photo shoved in her pocket only served as a reminder of the mess her life was becoming.

  She wanted to get far away from all the drama—which now included a mystery person leaving disturbing gifts for her daughter.

  Chapter 16

  Gift of the Unexpected

  Renee forced her hand to quit shaking long enough to ring the doorbell. Julie and Robbie crowded behind her on the icy step, anxious for their first glimpse of their grandparents in a long time.

  Marilyn opened the door slowly—probably nervous, too.

  “Look at how you children have grown,” she exclaimed, glancing over Renee’s shoulder at the kids. “Come in, come in, it’s cold out today.”

  She backed away from the door, allowing them in. A television played in the background. The room felt warm and stuffy. Marilyn’s once-auburn hair had faded to a dull gray streaked with copper. She reached only to Renee’s shoulder, slighter than she remembered. James wasn’t in his favorite chair, but the chair was still there. Looking around, Renee felt transported back in time. The formal wedding photo of her and Jim still sat on the mantel. Everything was as she remembered it, from the drapes to the carpet to the wallpaper.

  “Please, come with me to the kitchen. Dinner is almost ready,” Marilyn said.

  Renee hoped they would find something to say to each other after all this time. She felt an awkward void between them. Julie and Robbie hung back, not knowing how to act or what to say. They followed Marilyn into the kitchen. Renee recognized the heavy stoneware already set out on the table. Marilyn busied herself with something bubbling on the stove. The kids and Renee sat, leaving one empty chair.

  “Marilyn, is James not joining us tonight?” Renee asked, confused by the four place settings.

  “I’m afraid it’s the four of us tonight,” Marilyn said, her back still to them. Eventually she gave a loud sigh and turned back to the table.

  “James is at Oak Tree Manor. Has been since last summer,” she finally said, looking from Renee to her grandchildren. “He suffered a number of strokes, and I couldn’t take care of him anymore. It’s just me here now.”

  “Oh, Grandma,” Julie said, bouncing up out of her chair. “I am so sorry. We didn’t know.”

  She wrapped her arms around her estranged grandmother in a warm hug. Marilyn stood with her arms stiffly at her side, clearly surprised and uncomfortable with the human contact. But after a moment, she melted into Julie’s embrace and rested her head on her granddaughter’s shoulder, hugging her back.

  Robbie was less of a hugger than his sister. He stayed where he was, looking uncomfortable. He was only five year
s old the last time he was in this house. He barely remembered any of it. But Julie was old enough to remember both Marilyn and her grandfather. Renee hoped her daughter didn’t remember the last argument in this house.

  Finally extricating herself from Julie’s embrace, Marilyn again checked her pots on the stove. “It will be another half an hour, looks like. Would any of you like a cup of coffee while we wait?” She seemed more relaxed now that she had told them James was in a local nursing home.

  After filling cups for Renee, Julie, and herself, she gave Robbie a can of Orange Crush and joined them at the table.

  “I’m glad you called, Renee. We should have kept in touch. Time slips by. After what happened to Jim, I kept busy cooking at school, and James spent all of his time either at work or tinkering out in that shop of his. He struggled with his blood pressure and terrible arthritis in his back, but he was getting by until the strokes started. At first he bounced back, but then he had a big one. After that, he couldn’t walk without help. I wasn’t strong enough. His doctor was afraid James was going to get hurt, or I’d get hurt helping him move around the house. It’s been an adjustment, living alone these last six months . . . but enough about me. You kids tell me what you’ve been up to. How is school going?”

  “College is a blast,” Julie chimed in. “My roommate Zoey is a friend from high school. It was an adjustment, being away from Mom and Robbie, but I made some new friends. Classes were ridiculously hard, but I finished finals right before break.”

  “Have ya found a fella yet?” Marilyn inquired with a wink.

  Julie’s clearly evasive “Aw, Grandma” reply caught Renee’s attention. Had Julie met someone? Someone named Lincoln, maybe?

  “I can’t believe my granddaughter is already in college,” Marilyn said with a sigh. “And how ’bout you, young man, what do you like to do these days?”

  “School is OK, I guess,” Robbie replied with a shrug, “but basketball . . . now that rocks! We’re ranked, like, second in our district, and I even get to dress varsity sometimes. We scrimmaged right before break and I crushed my buddy Brent. And the ladies, they won’t stop texting me.” As if on cue, Robbie’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, stopping mid-sentence. Renee kicked her son’s foot under the table and he clearly understood the look she shot him. His phone disappeared back into his jeans.

  Finally it was Renee’s turn, but she wasn’t sure where to start. She didn’t want to get into her whole job situation or admit she was still a single mother with no love life of her own. But she did feel the need to apologize for keeping the kids away so long.

  “Marilyn, thank you so much for having us over tonight, and I truly am sorry to hear about James. If we’d known he was sick, we would have come sooner,” Renee said—but even as she said it, she wondered if that was true. “Jim died a long time ago, and we all said things we shouldn’t have. We were all just shocked by his death and running on emotions.”

  Renee could picture the ugly scene in her mind only too clearly. After Jim’s funeral and graveside service, everyone came back here. It was packed with people, many Renee had never met. The children were only five and eight. Robbie didn’t understand what was going on, confused by what he had witnessed at the cemetery, and Julie didn’t know how to explain it to him. Why was the box his daddy was in lowered into the ground? Why did the strange man in purple robes talk and talk while they all had to stand quietly in the wind and cold? By the time they got back to their grandparents’, they were tired and cranky. Renee was overwhelmed and not paying attention to them. They got a little wild near the table and one of them knocked the bowl of red punch all over the living room floor.

  Marilyn lost control, screaming at the kids and sobbing. James was usually quiet and mild-mannered, but when Marilyn became hysterical, he snapped too.

  “You take those two little brats and get the hell out of this house. Our son might still be with us today if he hadn’t run off with you and worked himself to death so you could live the big city life and pay for those expensive private schools you insist on,” James hissed at her.

  He was being completely irrational, clearly out of his mind with grief. Maybe if Renee hadn’t suddenly found herself both a single mother and widow at only thirty-five, she would have given him some leeway for his behavior. They lost Jim to an ugly disease. Renee knew his death had nothing to do with her or the kids, but dammit, she just lost her husband and the father of her children, a man she loved with her whole heart. James’s words sliced through her when she was most vulnerable. Her own parents hadn’t been at the house at the time, so there was no one there to come to her aid. A man she didn’t know did step in and tried to quiet her in-laws while everyone else looked on in shock and dismay, but the damage was done.

  Grabbing her stunned children, she ran out of the house and they never went back.

  That was ten years ago.

  Once the sharpest edges of grief dulled, they made half-hearted attempts to reconcile. For the first few years, Renee sent school pictures and Christmas cards. They sent the kids birthday and holiday cards. The limited communication dwindled even more through the years and eventually ceased altogether.

  Renee knew Julie harbored some hope her father’s parents would show up for her high school graduation. She’d insisted Renee send an invitation. Marilyn left a message on their answering machine offering Julie their congratulations, saying James wasn’t feeling well and they couldn’t make it. They mailed a card. At the time, Renee was relieved, too busy to give much thought to the void their absence must have left in her children’s lives. It was hard enough to lose their dad, but to not have contact with grandparents had to have been confusing, too.

  Renee felt relieved to be in this kitchen again. The woman sitting across from her raised Jim, and he had been a wonderful man. Without him, Renee wouldn’t have been blessed with Julie and Robbie. It was time to let go of the past and move on.

  She knew it was only right to be honest with Marilyn and share what finally brought them back here. She explained about her recent layoff and how they decided to spend this extra time with family. She was open about the fact it was Julie and Robbie that insisted they try to reconnect with Marilyn and James.

  “But Marilyn, I’m glad we’re here now,” Renee said. “I’m sorry James can’t be here and that he has gotten so sick. These past two weeks are helping remind me to get my priorities back in line. We should have learned this lesson ten years ago, when Jim died. We need to appreciate what we have every day, because everything can change in a heartbeat. Let’s work harder to keep in touch.” Renee reached across the table to squeeze Marilyn’s hand. Marilyn said nothing, but offered a small smile back and nodded.

  Sensing the need to lighten the mood, Renee stood and walked over to the counter, prompting Marilyn to get up as well. Together they got dinner on the table while Julie and Robbie filled Marilyn in on other aspects of their teenage lives. Renee cringed when Robbie started talking about wanting to get his driver’s permit. She still got nervous when Julie drove; she wasn’t ready for another driver in the house.

  After they finished eating and dishes were cleared, Marilyn was drained.

  Renee stood and the kids followed suit.

  “Thanks again for having us over for dinner, Marilyn. It’s a shame about James. We probably should get going now—it’s getting late—but we’ll keep in touch.”

  Marilyn stopped her. “Now, just a minute. You can’t go yet. Sit back down.”

  Renee threw a glance at Robbie and Julie, suspecting they were getting anxious to go. They all took their seats again.

  Marilyn struggled with what to say next. She cleared her throat and made eye contact with each of them before speaking. Renee felt a flutter of nerves . . . Marilyn was acting strange.

  “I have something to share with you that I probably should have shared a long time ago. I used to think I would take this secret to my grave, but now I realize this was never my secret
to keep. I should have shared it with Jim. Now it is too late for that. James never wanted me to tell you this. He is a private man, but something has happened and I changed my mind.”

  What the hell is Marilyn talking about? Renee glanced at her kids. Both looked apprehensive.

  “Renee, you know how much we loved Jimmy. He was our pride and joy. The only child we ever had. When he died, we just . . . shattered. But what we never shared with any of you was that Jim . . . Jim was not our biological son. We adopted him when he was an infant.”

  Shock ran through Renee. Julie and Robbie stared at their grandmother.

  Once she started talking, Marilyn didn’t stop. “Back when we were first married, we thought we would have a houseful of children. But it never happened. Back then, they didn’t have all the tests and medical procedures young couples can try today to start a family if it doesn’t happen on its own. We came to realize that if we ever wanted to raise a child, we would have to adopt.

  “There was a young family in town. They already had three kids and the wife was pregnant again. Her husband ran off before she gave birth, leaving her completely overwhelmed. Our pastor approached us one day because he knew we were exploring adoption. The young mother found out she was carrying twins and was terrified she wouldn’t be able to raise two more in addition to the three she was already struggling to feed. We would have loved to adopt both babies, but she was only interested in putting one up for adoption. For some reason, she thought she could handle four kids on her own but not five.”

  Marilyn paused to draw in a shaky breath, gnarled fingers wringing a white tissue she’d pulled out of her sleeve. She had their undivided attention.