When Love Returns

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  She’d buried her memories when she left Arborville as a scared seventeen-year-old, but at Andrew’s simple statement they returned in a rush. Suzanne’s heart caught. She remembered playing tag, building tents out of blankets tossed over the clothesline, and having watermelon seed–spitting contests in the summertime. During their Christmas gatherings they made countless snow angels, played hide-and-seek in the barn, and set up a pretend store in the attic. She smiled. “We did have fun, didn’t we? Even when we played cowboys and Indians and you and your brothers tied me to a fence post and then ran off to play something else.”

  “Yes, but I came back and rescued you.”

  “An hour later!”

  They both laughed, their mingled breath forming a cloud of condensation. The shared laughter felt good. Cleansing.

  He slung his arm across her shoulders, the way he had when they were kids ambling off to the fishing pond. “You were always more like a little sister than a cousin—my favorite relative on my mom’s side.” His fingers clamped onto her shoulder. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And I wish I’d known a long time ago who to thank for the gift of parenthood you gave Livvy and me.”

  The good feelings dissolved. She stepped free of his touch and gave a little hop onto the cement stoop. She opened the door to the cottage and forced a smile as she gestured them in. “This is it—Alexa’s cottage. There’s an album of before-and-after photographs on the old sideboard, if you’re interested in looking at it.”

  Linda and Olivia went directly to the sideboard and retrieved the album, while Tom and Andrew wandered the space, pausing to examine the built-in Murphy bed Paul Aldrich had constructed. Suzanne needed to distance herself from Andrew, so even though she would have loved to tell the men that Alexa designed the bed, she joined the women at the white painted table. Maternal pride swelled as she listened to them ooh and aah over the dramatic changes Alexa had made in the old summer kitchen.

  Olivia turned sideways in her chair and gave the room a slow inspection. She shook her head, the black ribbons from her cap gently swaying beneath her chin. “Your daughter certainly has a knack for seeing the what-could-be. I’ll be honest. If I’d walked into the summer kitchen and seen all this”—she gestured to the pictures in the album—“I would have run away screaming. I’m so glad Alexa didn’t. The cottage is charming.” She tipped her head and offered Suzanne a pensive look. “Anna-Grace told us how helpful Alexa has been in choosing paint colors and wall coverings for the house she and Steven will live in after they’re married. When you adopt a child, you never know what his or her talents might be since they come from a different genetic line. You must be thrilled to have a daughter who is creative in so many ways.”

  Suzanne scrambled for an appropriate response.

  Linda’s brow puckered. “You adopted a little girl from China, right? Are you saying you’re disappointed in some way by her?”

  Olivia’s eyes flew wide. “Of course not! We adore both Anna-Grace and Sunny, and we’re happy to encourage them to pursue their God-given abilities.” She smiled, placing her hand over Linda’s. “I wasn’t speaking of our girls but of Suzanne’s daughter, Alexa.” She turned to Suzanne, her expression innocent. “Andrew and I presume you adopted her when she was a young child.”

  Suzanne’s dry mouth resisted forming words, but Linda sputtered to life.

  “Adopted her? When she was a young child? Your presumptions are all mixed up. Why, Tom and I met Suzanne when Alexa was only a few weeks old and Suzanne here was still recovering from childbirth. Young as she was, she had quite a time, but our good friends saw to it she got the rest she needed to recover. We’ve watched Alexa grow up, and we’ve watched Suzanne grow up, too.” She snorted. “Adopted, my foot…Just because Alexa looks more like her father—I presume—than her mama, she’s every bit Suzanne’s.” Linda stared at Suzanne. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Every bit Suzanne’s…” Linda’s statement resonated through Suzanne’s heart. She nodded.

  Linda shot a triumphant grin at Olivia. “See there? That girl isn’t adopted. You’re mistaken.”

  Olivia stared at Suzanne, her face pursed into a scowl of confusion. “Then how—”

  Suzanne leaped up, nearly toppling her chair. She caught the bow-shaped backrest and settled the antique chair into place at the table. Releasing a nervous laugh, she waved at the men, who’d remained beside the Murphy bed, arms folded over their chests, quietly chatting. “I’m sure Mother has finished the story by now, and the children are probably restless. Should we go back to the house?”

  Olivia hurried across the floor to Andrew, and Tom moved toward Linda. Suzanne watched her cousins out of the corner of her eye. Her pulse scampered into frantic beats when Olivia whispered something to Andrew, and they both sent puzzled looks in her direction. Before either of them could broach the subject of Alexa’s birth again, Suzanne slipped her arm through Linda’s and aimed her for the door. Andrew and Olivia followed, and to her great relief they didn’t ask any questions.

  She led them over the flat steppingstones to the front porch rather than interrupt the kitchen cleanup. In the house Mother had organized a game of “button, button, who has the button” to keep the children occupied. The kids went on playing as Suzanne and the others entered the living room. Mother turned her wheelchair toward the adults and smiled. “What did you think of the cottage? Quite something, isn’t it?”

  Andrew and Olivia murmured agreement, and Tom boomed, “Doesn’t surprise me in the least. That Alexa’s been creatin’ something out of nothing since she was a little wart. She built a whole town out of appliance boxes in our basement when she was a kindergartner.”

  “First grader,” Linda corrected. “When she was in kindergarten, she made a worm farm in the backyard.”

  Tom stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, chuckling. “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten about the worm farm. Fences out of Popsicle sticks and blue yarn. She even named the worms. I couldn’t tell Uncle Wiggly from Slim Jim, but she claimed she knew ’em all.” His eyes crinkled with his broad smile. “Yessir, that one always had something going. Kept us all hopping, I can tell you, but in a good way. Alexa’s always been a joy.”

  As much as it warmed Suzanne’s mother-heart to hear Tom speak so glowingly of her daughter, Andrew’s and Olivia’s expressions were becoming more confused and curious by the minute. She needed to turn the conversation. “Where are Clete, Derek, and Harper?”

  Mother gestured toward the closed pocket doors. “In the dining room sipping a last cup of coffee before everyone leaves.” She sighed and reached for Andrew’s hand. “It’s been a wonderful day—the best Christmas I can remember in years. I’m not ready for it to end.”

  Andrew went down on one knee beside Mother’s chair. “Well, it won’t be years until we see you the next time. I already told Suzy we intend to reinstate our annual get-togethers.”

  Suzanne’s stomach twinged, but Mother beamed.

  He went on. “And of course we’ll all be back in Arborville in less than two months.”

  “Two months?” Suzanne didn’t realize she’d nearly screeched the question until the circle of children paused in their button-passing to gawk up at her. She offered them a feeble smile. “Go ahead and play.” Then she inched closer to Andrew. “You’re coming back in two months?”

  Olivia answered. “Yes, for Anna-Grace and Steven’s wedding. They’ve decided to get married in the Arborville fellowship instead of the one in Sommerfeld. With Steven teaching here now, they decided it was less disruptive to do everything here.” Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Of course, we were disappointed not to have the ceremony at the fellowship where they both grew up, but we understand their reasoning.”

  Mother nodded slowly. “So the wedding is on…”

  Andrew and Olivia exchanged a quick look before Andrew spoke. “Yes. Steven’s decision to teach in the local school instead of farming his grandfather�
��s land definitely surprised a few people, including Anna-Grace. But when she had time to think about it, she realized God paved the way for him to be able to serve as a teacher.”

  Olivia placed her hand on Andrew’s shoulder, a tender gesture that sent an unexpected shaft of longing through Suzanne. “Even though Steven’s decision temporarily rattled her, it didn’t take her long to forgive him for holding back his real desires from her. She’s a very kind, forgiving girl.”

  Olivia’s final statement echoed inside Suzanne’s head. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. Would Anna-Grace have the ability even to forgive Suzanne for not keeping her? Or was her act too hurtful to be forgiven? Her chest grew tight, emotion building.

  “And I hope it will be all right for her to come stay with you again in the weeks leading up to the wedding.” Olivia sighed. “She said—and she’s right—that it will be easier for her to make arrangements from here. I’d like to be directly involved, which will be impossible with me more than three hours away, but at least if she’s with you, Aunt Abigail, she’ll have the help and support of family.”

  The pressure built in Suzanne’s chest until she couldn’t hold it in. A single sob burst out. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t suppress a second sob. Her entire frame shuddered as if she rode a bucking bronco.

  The children’s game stopped again, every little face turning upward. Mother leaned sideways slightly to look past Andrew. Even through the spurt of tears, Suzanne saw the concern on her mother’s face.

  Linda touched Suzanne’s arm. “What’s wrong, girlie?”

  Suzanne couldn’t bear the kindness in her dear friend’s tone. She shook her head, a message of both “I can’t talk right now” and “I don’t deserve your compassion.”

  Linda slipped her arm around Suzanne’s waist and steered her toward the staircase. “Come upstairs with me. We’ll have us a talk.”

  Suzanne

  Suzanne sank down on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. How humiliating to break down that way. She pictured her nieces’ and nephews’ startled expressions, Mother’s furrowed brow, Andrew’s and Olivia’s confusion. The tightness in her chest grew until drawing a breath was painful. She had to gain control of her emotions. But how, when the source of her anguish would sit across the dining room table every day for the next two months?

  The click of the door latch sealed out the mutters traveling up the stairs from the living room. The mattress shifted—Linda settling in beside her—and a heavy arm fell around her shoulders. Then a warm hand, the same thick palm that had offered comfort in countless times of worry over the years, cupped Suzanne’s head and gently pulled until her cheek pressed Linda’s.

  “What is it, girlie? What’s got you all upset?” Linda’s rumbling whisper sounded next to Suzanne’s ear.

  Her eyes closed tight, her fist pressed to her mouth, she couldn’t answer.

  “Is it Anna-Grace?”

  The voice wasn’t Linda’s. Suzanne jolted upright and opened her eyes. Olivia stood a few feet in front of her with her hands clasped in a prayerful position beneath her chin. Olivia had followed her and Linda? Suzanne experienced the very childish desire to hide under the bed.

  Compassion glowed in Olivia’s eyes. “As hard as it’s been for Andrew and me to keep quiet about Anna-Grace’s parentage, it must be even worse for you. If you’d like, I’ll talk to Anna-Grace about—”

  Linda aimed an impatient look at Suzanne. “What is she talking about? Anna-Grace’s parentage…And earlier she asked about you adopting Alexa.” She shook her head. “You two’ve got me all befuddled.”

  An expression of both awareness and shock came over Olivia’s face. She stepped forward and leaned down to grip Suzanne’s hands. The ends of the black ribbons from her cap tickled Suzanne’s knuckles, a reminder of what might have been if she’d stayed in Arborville, married Paul, and raised her baby with him. She closed her eyes again.

  “Cousin Suzy, I’m so sorry. I just assumed your good friends knew you’d given up your baby girl for adoption.”

  Suzanne heard the deep apology in Olivia’s voice, but she couldn’t make herself look her cousin’s wife in the face. Because she knew she’d see questions in addition to contrition.

  “Gave up?” No apology laced Linda’s tart tone.

  Suzanne hunkered lower. She hadn’t wanted to divulge her secrets on Christmas Day, but firm fingers gripped her chin and forced her head up.

  “Suzanne?”

  She opened her eyes. Linda’s face was only inches from hers, and the set of her lips told Suzanne clearly the woman meant business.

  “All right, girlie, it’s been a long time since I got all motherly on you. Seems a little silly to be doing it now with your own mama sitting downstairs and you thirty-seven years old instead of seventeen like when we first met. But I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight unless I understand what in the name of all that’s sensible this cousin of yours is talking about.” She released Suzanne’s chin with a light pinch. “Go ahead now. Talk.”

  Olivia drew the reproduction Louis XV tapestry chair close and slipped into it. “Yes, Suzy. I’d like to understand, too. The letters you gave us for Anna-Grace identify you and Paul Aldrich as her parents. Yet you have a daughter who’s the same age as Anna-Grace. How is that possible?”

  Haltingly, her words stumbling out between swallowed sobs, Suzanne explained being sent to the unwed mothers’ home in Indianapolis by her mother with the fierce instruction to give her baby to Andrew and Olivia. Reliving the torment of her squalling baby girl being carried away pierced her anew, and she flattened her palms against her aching heart as she continued sharing with the two silent, wide-eyed women closed in the bedroom with her.

  “The day I was supposed to leave the home—to go to a ‘recovery house’ arranged by the home’s director—I heard what I thought was a kitten crying behind the garage. But it wasn’t a kitten. It was a baby. A brand-new baby girl. Someone had put her in a box and left her there, all alone in the alley. I didn’t even think. I just scooped her up and I…I kept her.”

  Linda gasped, and Olivia exclaimed, “You did no such thing!”

  Suzanne squared her shoulders and spoke forcefully. “Yes, I did. I took her to the hospital, and because I’d given birth only the day before, everyone assumed she was mine. And I let them believe it. I’d prayed for God to let me keep my baby, but the people at the home took her away anyway. So when I found this little girl, I told myself she was my answered prayer. She was mine. The birth certificate the state sent me proved it. She’s always been mine.”

  She looked from Olivia’s astounded face to Linda’s, and her firm resolve dissolved. Tears flooded her eyes. She turned away. “I’ve disappointed you.”

  In a heartbeat she found herself wrapped in Linda’s embrace. Her friend’s breath—spice-scented from her longtime habit of munching licorice cats—wafted across her cheek, drying the tears that flowed in a warm trickle. “Oh, honey, no. You’ve…shocked me.”

  Suzanne could only imagine Linda’s shock at being lied to for twenty years.

  “All this time I never once suspected Alexa wasn’t yours.”

  Suzanne pulled back, uncertain she’d heard correctly. “You aren’t shocked that I…I took a baby that wasn’t mine?”

  A tender smile tipped up the corners of her full lips. “Knowing your compassionate heart, of course not. Then consider your young age, that you’d just given birth and your hormones were likely running amuck, and you’d been praying for God to let you keep your baby…No, doesn’t shock me at all that you picked up that helpless little girl and claimed her as yours.”

  Suzanne threw her arms around Linda and clung hard. “Thank you for not thinking ill of me.”

  “Think ill of you?” Linda rocked her side to side, chuckling. “Lands, girlie, the things you say. What you told me makes me admire you even more for how much you love Alexa. I’ve never seen a more dedicated mama.”
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  “Oh, Cousin Suzy…” At Olivia’s tearful, raspy voice, Suzanne and Linda pulled apart and turned toward her. “I’m so very sorry. We never knew.”

  “Of course you didn’t know.” Suzanne’s heart felt bruised by the real pain in Olivia’s eyes. “No one knew—not even Alexa. My family only recently found out.”

  “No.” Olivia shook her head hard, making her cap ribbons flop furiously against the caped bodice of her deep-maroon Christmas dress. “Not that Alexa isn’t yours—that you wanted to keep Anna-Grace. Andrew and I were only told the baby’s mother was young, unmarried, and unable to care for her. If we’d known you didn’t want to give her up for adoption, we would never have taken her.” Her white face spoke clearly of her inner anguish. “I feel as though we…we stole her from you.”

  Suzanne placed her hands on Olivia’s knees, praying for the ability to speak assurance to her cousin without divulging the bitter regret still clinging around the edges of her heart. “You didn’t take her from me. You and Andrew opened your hearts to a stranger’s baby, and you loved her like she was your own. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You listen to Suzanne now, you hear?” Linda cupped her hands over Suzanne’s and leaned close. “You welcomed that baby girl into your home with a pure heart—same way Suzanne here welcomed an abandoned baby into her heart. Neither one of you has any reason to be ashamed or regretful over what you did.”

  Olivia sniffed. “Thank you. But…” She turned a worried look on Suzanne. “What of Alexa? Since you never adopted her, is she legally your daughter?”

  Suzanne’s palms began to sweat. She sat up, slipping her hands from beneath Linda’s and swiped them along the thighs of her pleated wool skirt. Suzanne feared the answer to Olivia’s question was no, but she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t even want to think about it. A tap at the door saved her from answering.