They settled Mother in the new room, which looked out over a flowering courtyard. As the orderlies turned to leave, Meghan’s cell phone beeped its text announcement. She pulled it from her pocket, and a smile broke across her face. “It’s Sean.”
Diane adjusted the covers and laid Mother’s arms on top of the blanket. Mother’s dark eyes never wavered from her face. “Is he just checking in?”
Meghan squirmed on the chair, as bouncy as a child at her birthday party. “No, listen to this.” She held up the phone and read. “ ‘After hitting several dead ends, I found a man named Eric Plum from the Bay area whose great-uncle Waldo and great-aunt Rosemary adopted a girl during the forties. They named her Emily. She’s widowed now, the mother of three—two girls and a boy.’ ”
Diane’s heart lurched. If this woman and Mother were sisters, then Mother had nieces and a nephew.
“ ‘He agreed to pass along my message about possibly meeting her biological sister. Now we wait for her call.’ ”
Diane crossed to the chair and peered over Meghan’s shoulder at the message. “Ask him how we’ll know for sure if this woman is Maggie.” She didn’t want to get Mother’s hopes up unnecessarily.
Meghan tapped the tiny keyboard, then waited. A few seconds later, the cell beeped. Meghan read, “ ‘DNA will either prove or disprove their relationship. But first Emily Plum Weaver has to agree to be tested. Pray!’ ” Meghan tapped a quick agreement, and then she angled a frown at her mother. “Did you send Grandma’s cheek swab to the lab?”
“Of course. The same day the kit arrived. Do you think Sean has the results by now?”
“If not, he’ll contact the lab techs and get them on it. He told me last night when we were talking that news reporters have been hounding him and his temporary partner about this case. Word’s getting out about the orphanage director who shuttled children out of state.” Her face fell. “I feel so bad for Mrs. Durdan. She didn’t want anyone to know what her mother had done, and now everyone will know. She’ll be devastated.”
Diane put her hand on Meghan’s shoulder. “It will be hard for her, I’m sure, but she isn’t responsible for her mother’s choices. She shouldn’t feel guilty about it.”
“Still, there will probably be some people in Cumpton who blame Mrs. Durdan for the things her mother did. And she’ll probably blame herself. I’d feel pretty bad if I found out the reason I had an education and place to live was because you’d been kidnapping children from their families for money.”
Diane smoothed her daughter’s hair. “I tell you what. When Mother and Maggie—or Emily, if she’s the one—have met, we’ll take lots of pictures of them together. Then we’ll send a letter to Mrs. Durdan along with a photo and thank her for making it possible for the sisters to be reunited. Maybe it will take away some of the sting.”
A weak smile played on Meghan’s lips. “Thanks, Mom. That’s a good idea.” She glanced toward the bed. Mother’s eyes had slipped closed, but her fingers were twitching as if she played a flute in her sleep. “I hope by the time we figure out whether or not this Emily really is Maggie, Grandma will be fully aware and able to meet her. It’d be pretty sad to go to all this trouble only to fail.”
Diane pulled up the second chair and sat near Meghan so their knees bumped. She took her daughter’s hand and peered intently into her brown eyes. “There’s no failure anywhere in this venture. The whole thing feels…orchestrated.”
Meghan tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, first of all, your accident. If you hadn’t been in that three-car pileup, you wouldn’t have come to spend time with Mother, which prompted me to come, too. We wouldn’t have planned the trip to Cumpton, which led us to send Mother for a checkup, and we wouldn’t have known her artery was blocked. Do you see?”
Meghan nodded. “I do. I hadn’t quite put it together like that, though. Maybe it was all orchestrated by God.”
“I’m convinced of it.” Diane drew a slow breath, gathering courage. “And there’s more. I’ve come to love my mother again. I’ve reconnected with the faith I had as a child. I still need to ask forgiveness for the hateful way I’ve treated her for so many years, but I know without a doubt she will grant it.”
Meghan angled a soft smile toward the bed where Mother slept peacefully. “Yes. She will.”
“And I need to ask your forgiveness, too.”
Meghan’s eyebrows rose. “Me? What for?”
“For not letting you know how much I love you.” Tears flooded Diane’s eyes, making Meghan’s image waver. “I was so determined to not be my mother that I went to the opposite extreme. I didn’t show enough affection. I didn’t protect you enough. And I didn’t give you the most important thing of all—faith. That’s my biggest regret. I’m very sorry, Meghan. I do love you, more than I can say, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Meghan threw her arms around Diane. “Mom, nobody’s perfect. I don’t expect you to be. You did your best. I know you love me, and I love you. There’s nothing to forgive.”
Diane pulled free. She took hold of Meghan’s hands. “One more thing.” Although she’d prayed long and hard and knew what she had to do, this wouldn’t be easy. “About your father…”
Meghan’s eyes widened. She sucked in a breath and seemed to freeze.
“You deserve to know his name. Seek him out if you want to.” Her chest ached. Would he reject her precious daughter again? She held tight to Meghan’s hands and winged a prayer heavenward for God’s will. “If you want me to tell you who he is, I won’t refuse.”
Meghan sat for several silent seconds, chewing her lower lip, her eyes unblinking. She released her held breath. “Thank you, Mom. I want to know. But not…yet.” A tender smile grew on her face. “Right now, I want to spend time getting fully acquainted with my heavenly Father. He’ll let me know when the time is right to find my earthly one.”
They hugged long and hard, and when they parted they realized they were being watched. Mother’s dark eyes glistened. Her chin quivered.
Diane rose and hurried to the bed. She slipped her hand beneath her mother’s. “Are you in pain?”
Two deliberate squeezes gave the answer.
“Are you sure?” Her tears concerned Diane.
Squeeze.
“Then…may I ask you a question?”
Mother never broke eye contact. Another single squeeze granted permission.
Diane leaned close. “I am so sorry for interpreting your love as interference. I’ve treated you badly for years. I tried to keep Meghan from you. I was wrong and I know I hurt you. Can you ever forgive me?”
At once Mother’s fingers closed on Diane’s hand. Firmly. Emphatically. The tears escaped the corners of her eyes and rolled toward her smile. Her lips parted. “All”—her voice was raspy, like the grate of rusty gears—“is forgiven. And forgotten.”
Diane bent low and touched her forehead to her mother’s. “Thank you.”
Mother’s arm lifted and curled over Diane’s shoulders. “Thank you for coming home.”
Epilogue
Thanksgiving Weekend
Hazel
“When is their flight arriving?” Hazel fingered her pearl necklace and stared at the wide opening to baggage claim. In her purse, she carried a recent photograph of Emily Plum Weaver, who bore a striking resemblance to Mae Clymer Blackwell. Even without the DNA proof, Hazel would have known the woman was her long-lost little sister all grown up.
Meghan urged her toward a row of chairs where Margaret Diane sat, keeping watch over a pile of gift bags—the biggest one for Emily and smaller ones for each of her children and the grandchildren who were traveling with them. “Not for another ten minutes, Grandma. Come. Sit. Relax.”
“Relax…” Hazel sat but she tsk-tsked. “How can I relax with those television people swooping in like a horde of locusts? I never dreamed I’d be on national television. It’s more than a little unnerving.” She flapped her hand at the cluste
r of cameramen and reporters currently interviewing Sean. She leaned close to Meghan and lowered her voice to a whisper. “But Sean seems to be handling it well.”
A becoming blush stole across her granddaughter’s cheeks. “Sean handles just about anything people throw at him, including the publicity from this case. None of us expected it to snowball like it did. The reunions will likely go on for months as families come together. But it’s only fitting that yours is first, Grandma, since trying to find Maggie started it all.”
Margaret Diane poked her thumb toward Sean. “I hope he doesn’t get big headed over the attention. There’s nothing less attractive than a big-headed fiancé.”
“Mom…” Meghan rolled her eyes and Margaret Diane chortled.
At first Hazel had wondered how Meghan and Sean would balance working together as husband and wife, but she’d come to the conclusion that if anyone could do it and do it well, it would be those two. They’d started out as very good friends and they respected each other. Those were the foundations of a lasting relationship. And, of course, they were building on their common faith in Jesus Christ, the best foundational rock of all.
Gratitude filled her that her granddaughter had a trustworthy, God-honoring man on whom she could depend. Especially since Margaret Diane would be moving from Little Rock to Kendrickson over the Christmas break and taking a teaching position in Las Vegas. Nevada was lucky to get someone with her drive and passion for education. Initially Hazel had been apprehensive about her daughter moving closer. Margaret Diane always complained about the Nevada heat. But her sweet statement—“I can put up with the heat if it means having more time with you, Mother”—chased every bit of concern away. After all their years with states separating them, she would enjoy having her close by.
Hazel gave Meghan’s hand a pat. “There’s one way to cure a man of a big head.”
Meghan’s face lit with interest. “How?”
Hazel flicked a secretive look left and right. “Go up behind him in a public place, give him a little pinch on the bottom, then back away and pretend to be shocked. Say loud enough for everyone to hear, ‘I’m so sorry—I thought you were my husband!’ Then hurry away. It’s sure to deflate any man’s puffed-up ego.”
“Mother!” Margaret Diane burst out laughing. “You wouldn’t do something like that.”
Hazel pressed her palm to her chest and feigned innocence. “Of course I wouldn’t. I was talking about Meghan.”
The three of them were still laughing when Sean strolled over and flopped into the chair next to Meghan. He linked fingers with her and grinned at them. “What’s so funny?”
“Never mind.” Margaret Diane cleared her throat and wiped the smirk from her face. “Were you able to convince the reporters to give Mother and her sister a little privacy before pushing in for an interview?”
He nodded. “It took some doing. They want to capture the emotion. But I assured them there will be more than enough emotion to last for several minutes. They’ll be rolling, but they’ll keep their distance until I give the signal.” He glanced at a newspaper lying on the chair beside him and gave a little jolt. He yanked it up and held it out for them to see. “Hey! Look at this—we even made the Vegas paper.” The headline read “Arkansas Cold Case Detective Uncovers Child-Stealing Operation 7 Decades Old.” A color photo of him holding black-and-white pictures of children, including the one of Maggie with her doll, was placed prominently beside the article. He grinned. “I don’t look too bad in newsprint, do I?”
Hazel bumped Meghan with her elbow. “Better get your pinching fingers ready.”
Meghan hunched her shoulders and giggled.
A flow of people came around the corner. Sean set the paper aside and bolted from his chair. “That’s probably their flight. Come with me, Grandma Hazel.”
He helped her from the chair and then escorted her to an open space marked off with yellow tape between a row of three slot machines and the glass wall of a gift shop. He held up the poster they’d made the evening before with a simple message—WELCOME TO VEGAS, EMILY & FAMILY. Hazel had wanted to put Maggie instead of Emily, but both Margaret Diane and Meghan encouraged her to use the name Maggie’s adoptive parents had given her.
It pierced Hazel’s heart, but she understood the wisdom. Emily probably didn’t even remember being Maggie. Hazel would be satisfied with having her sister in her life again, no matter what name she used now.
The cameramen aimed their lenses, and the reporters stood tense and ready. Hazel glanced over the sea of faces, searching for the one she’d longed to see for seventy years. And finally a sweet-faced woman with sky-blue eyes, wavy snow-white hair, and a petite figure rounded the corner. Three couples in their mid- to late forties and three teenagers surrounded her. Hazel recognized all of them from the photographs sent from California. Her heart exulted, Maggie! Hazel covered her mouth with trembling fingers, but a gasp still escaped.
With the noise of slot machines and people talking, Maggie couldn’t have heard the gasp, but the moment it released, she angled her face, and her gaze met Hazel’s. Her attention flicked to the poster and then back. A smile grew on her face. The smile whisked Hazel backward in time so rapidly that dizziness briefly struck. She caught Sean’s arm for a moment to steady herself, and then she left Sean behind and took stumbling steps toward her sister.
Oh, how she wished she could run the way Maggie used to run to greet her when Hazel returned home from school. But age and the crepe rubber soles of her shoes catching on the carpet hindered her. Maggie moved away from her family, too, and held her arms wide as she came. They met on a patch of carpet splashed with bright lights from one of the slot machines, the same way the sun had dappled the grass on their last day together. Hazel released a little cry of elation and wrapped her sister in her arms. They clung, both laughing, both crying, soft cheeks pressed against each other and snowy hair tickling.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Hazel whispered the admission into Maggie’s ear.
“And I you.”
Hazel pulled back, startled. “You remember me?”
Tears slid down her sister’s gently lined cheeks, but they didn’t wash away her smile. “You are the Hayzoo Mae who visited my dreams. I never forgot.”
The childish name sounded so natural, was so welcome, Hazel experienced another rush of warm tears. They embraced again, rocking gently. She could have held Maggie forever, but someone touched her shoulder. With reluctance she released her hold and found Margaret Diane standing near with Meghan. They’d brought the gift bags.
“Mother, wouldn’t you like to meet your nieces and nephew?” Margaret Diane handed the largest bag to Hazel. “You’d probably like to give this to Emily, too.”
“Yes, I would.”
Maggie gestured for her family to come close, and Hazel introduced her daughter and granddaughter to them. Maggie in turn introduced her son, daughters, in-laws, and grandchildren. And then Hazel couldn’t wait any longer. She handed the bag to Maggie. “This is for you.”
Maggie placed the bag on the floor and pushed the tissue aside. She lifted out the doll Hazel had purchased in the antique store, and her eyes grew round. “Is this…?” She turned to her son, who pulled the newspaper article from his pocket. She pointed to the doll in the newspaper photo.
“It’s exactly like the one Daddy bought you for your third birthday. You never let it out of your sight until the day you went away.” Hazel gripped her sister’s hands, holding both her and the doll. “Now you have one again.”
While Margaret Diane and Meghan gave the framed reprints of Maggie with her birthday doll to Maggie’s son and daughters, the reporters crowded in for questions and photographs. And Hazel discovered it wasn’t so hard to be filmed after all. Joy and thanksgiving erased all discomfort. She kept her arm around her sister’s waist and smiled into the camera as she answered their questions.
After several minutes, though, she grew weary of their intrusion. She wanted Maggie and her
family to herself. She held up her hand. “Thank you, but that’s all.”
One reporter leaped forward and poked the microphone in her face. “One last question, Mrs. DeFord. Who do you hold responsible for having been robbed of the last seventy years with your sister?”
Hazel frowned at the young man and shook her finger. “All of that is over and done. Holding a grudge doesn’t hurt anyone except the one who chooses bitterness.” A sheepish look flitted across his face. She smiled and added, “I’d rather give praise to the ones who brought us together again—my daughter, my granddaughter, and Detective Eagle.” She gestured as she spoke, inviting them to come close. “And, most importantly, God. I’ve hoped for this day for seventy years, and He not only opened the doors for me to find my sister, He brought all of us together.” She held her arms to indicate both her and Maggie’s families. “So He’s the One who receives the glory today.”
The reporters departed, and Sean leaned in and delivered a kiss on Hazel’s temple. He straightened and grinned. “That last part will probably end up on the cutting-room floor, you know.”
She shrugged. “It can’t be cut from my heart, and that’s what matters.” She aimed her smile at the cluster of people. “There’s a turkey and roasted tofu”—she winked at Margaret Diane—“in the oven at my house. Shall we go celebrate Thanksgiving?” Tears flooded her eyes, and she folded Maggie in another hug. “Our families’ first Thanksgiving together…”
Maggie squeezed hard. “But not our last, Hazel.” They pulled apart and smiled into each other’s eyes. “God willing, it won’t be our last.”
Readers Guide
1. Hazel allowed her fear of losing someone she loved to make her overly protective of her daughter, which damaged their relationship. How do we learn to set aside fear and choose to trust God even when bad things befall us or our loved ones?
Bringing Maggie Home Page 33
