When Love Returns

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Alexa found herself faltering. “H-hi, Melissa. I’m sorry it’s been so long between visits. I had a lot to do. But it’s good to see you again, and I brought someone to meet you. You remember Tom?” She gestured to Linda. “This is his wife, Mrs. Denning. She’s one of my dearest friends, and I know you’ll love her as much as I do.”

  Linda chuckled as she crossed the faded area rug. She took hold of Melissa’s limp hands and gave them a squeeze. “Hi there, sugar. You call me Linda, the same way Alexa does, okay? It’s awfully nice to meet you in person.”

  A small smile briefly played on Melissa’s lips. She withdrew her hands from Linda’s and shuffled to the short sofa in front of the bay window. She sat on the edge of the sofa, her palms braced on the firm cushions as if prepared to launch herself off at any minute.

  Linda shot a questioning scowl at Alexa and moved back to her previous seat. Alexa chose to join Melissa, though. The girl scooted over a bit, then sat looking at the floor, unspeaking.

  The tension ate at Alexa, making her fidgety. She’d hoped Melissa would bring up their last conversation so she wouldn’t have to, but minutes were ticking by, and Melissa showed no interest in saying anything. Linda made a now-what face. If Linda was at a loss for words, they were in trouble.

  She cleared her throat and dove in. “Melissa, I brought Linda because—”

  Melissa’s head bounced up. “I thought about what you said, about how Evvie would think I didn’t want her if I gave her up. I talked to Ms. Reed about it, too.”

  Alexa gave a start. She couldn’t imagine taking anything of a personal nature to the stoic woman. “What did she say?”

  “She said it could be true. That some adopted kids do feel like they were unwanted. But that other adopted kids are too happy with their new parents to worry about it. They’re wanted by their adopted parents and that’s enough. She said Evvie stood just as good a chance of being fine as not.”

  Alexa said softly, “Ms. Reed is in the business of placing babies with hopeful parents, so her opinion might be skewed.”

  Linda tromped over, her face set in a frown. “Ms. Reed’s opinion might not be the only one that’s skewed. Scoot out of there, Alexa, and let me talk to Melissa.”

  Alexa shifted to a chair and Linda settled herself beside Melissa. She picked up Melissa’s hand and cradled it between her palms. “Lemme see if I’m understanding all this right. You’re planning to give your baby girl up for adoption, but Alexa doesn’t think it’s the best thing to do.”

  Melissa nodded. She flashed a resentful look at Alexa. “She said I’ll regret it forever if I give my baby away.” Her expression pleading, she turned to Linda. “But I don’t think that’s true. Why would I regret giving her to parents who really want her and will love her?”

  “Maybe Alexa’s just afraid you’ll change your mind someday and it’ll be too late to get your baby back. Giving up a baby isn’t like lending a toy to a friend. It’s for keeps. It’s a big, big decision. I think she wants to make certain you’re very, very sure.”

  Melissa’s lips twisted into a grimace of pain. “I was very, very sure until she came along. Then she got me all mixed up.”

  Linda patted Melissa’s hand and then stroked it the way someone would pet a puppy’s head. “Okay, let’s go back to before Alexa got you mixed up. Why did you decide to put your baby up for adoption?”

  Misery tinged Melissa’s features, but she shared how she got pregnant, her father’s reaction, her sad home life. Her lower lip quivered. “Dad won’t help me, and I don’t have anybody else. Even if he would help me, I’m not ready to be a mom. It wouldn’t be right for me to keep this baby. I love her. I love her a lot. I love her too much not to give her up.” She tipped her head and gazed at Linda with tears swimming in her eyes. “Does that make sense?”

  “Oh, darlin’…” Linda pulled Melissa into her embrace. She held the girl close, smiling over Melissa’s head at Alexa. “Do you know what you’ve tapped in to?” Within Linda’s arms Melissa shook her head. “You’ve tapped in to a love so deep it reminds me of the love God had for His Son.”

  Melissa drew back, puzzlement creasing her face. “What do you mean?”

  Alexa leaned in, confused by Linda’s statement, too.

  “Did you know God gave up His Son, Jesus, for the sake of mankind? It’s true. God loved His Son, but He also loved the world, and He knew the only way the world could be saved was for Jesus to take on the sins of all men and die for them.” Linda stroked Melissa’s hair as she spoke, her voice as tender as Alexa had ever heard it. “So as much as God loved Jesus, He gave Him up—His beloved Son. It must’ve broke God’s heart to give Jesus over, but He did it because He knew, in the long run, it would be best.” She smiled, using her thumb to brush away a tear that ran down Melissa’s cheek. “And that’s how you’re loving your baby girl right now—enough to give her up because you know down in your heart of hearts it would be best.”

  Alexa charged over. “But—”

  Linda held up her hand. “Alexa, you can’t decide for Melissa. There are some decisions that are purely our own. Accepting the gift of salvation Jesus gave by submitting to the Cross is one of those. And the one Melissa is making is another.” She slipped her arm around Alexa’s waist and drew her close. “Honey-girl, I know why you feel the way you do. But you can’t put your feelings on Melissa or on any other girl who’s found herself in this kind of situation.”

  She kept hold of Alexa and turned to face Melissa. “Girlie, in this world there isn’t a whole lot of unselfishness left. But what you’re doing—thinking of your baby first—is pure unselfishness. It won’t be easy for you. After your womb is empty and your baby’s gone to her new home, your arms and your heart are gonna ache.”

  Tears welled in Melissa’s eyes, and Alexa’s vision swam.

  “But you console yourself by remembering how much you love her and how much you want for her. You remember you did what you did for all the right reasons. Don’t you beat yourself up, do you hear me? And don’t you wallow in regret.” Linda chuckled her deep, rumbling chuckle that always made Alexa smile, no matter how sad she felt. “I opened a fortune cookie one time and found this message—‘To err is human; to remain in error is stupid.’ ”

  Melissa gave a tiny giggle, ducking her head.

  “Having a baby before you’re ready for it is certainly an error in judgment. But doing the responsible, unselfish thing and letting that baby be raised by people who are ready and willing? That’s not even close to an error. All right?”

  Melissa nodded, tears streaming down her face. “All right. Thank you, Linda.”

  “You’re welcome, darlin’.” She released Alexa to give Melissa another long hug, then she reached for Alexa again. Alexa sank down on her other side, and she pulled both girls close, rocking them gently to and fro. “Oh, you young ones…Someday you’ll be as wise as me, but until then it sure is nice to be needed.”

  Arborville

  Paul

  Paul walked Danny to the neighbor’s house Friday after supper. The sun had already slunk below the horizon, taking the wind with it, so the evening was calm. Except for Paul’s insides. A dozen bats, not of the baseball variety, flapped in his belly, and his flesh prickled with sweat despite the chilly temperatures.

  Danny tromped intentionally hard as they crossed the Lapps’ yard, breaking the crusty coating on the snow that had fallen last night. He lifted his foot extra high and must have thrown himself off balance because he slipped. Paul caught him before he lost his footing, and Danny sent his father a sheepish grin before stomping onward. Danny’s near mishap increased the apprehension writhing through Paul’s middle. Were the roads slick? He wouldn’t want Suzy sliding into a ditch.

  He knocked on the Lapps’ door and it opened promptly. Mrs. Lapp had probably been watching for them. She loved doting on Danny. Before sending Danny over the threshold, Paul leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Remember, what we talk about at home i
s for us only. No yapping.”

  Danny nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

  Mrs. Lapp shook her finger at Paul. “I hope you weren’t telling him not to ask for a snack. I have fresh gingerbread in the oven, and I picked up a tub of that premade whipped cream from the grocery store. I just don’t have the strength to whip my own cream anymore, but the store-bought’s not half bad.”

  Paul forced a chuckle. “Danny’s at an age when he wants to eat twenty-four hours a day. Even though he had a good dinner, he’ll be hungry again soon. Thank you for treating him.”

  “Oh, I enjoy it. I’ll set aside a big piece for you, too. You can have it when you get back from…wherever you’re going.”

  Paul hid a grin at the hint. “Thank you. That sounds great. I shouldn’t be too late.”

  The elderly woman’s smile remained intact. “Have a good evening now, and don’t worry one bit about Danny. He and I will have a good time.” Mrs. Lapp closed the door.

  Paul trotted to his truck and climbed in, eager to get the evening over with while at the same time wishing he could postpone it. His father always said not to put off for tomorrow what could be done today, but he wasn’t sure Dad was talking about attending a meeting with the Deacon Council.

  The streets were dark and deserted, thick clouds hanging low. The fog became writhing ghosts in the headlights’ beams. The sight unnerved him, and he wasn’t one to be bothered by thoughts of ghosts and goblins. Maybe he should have walked. Only four blocks. He and Danny walked to church more often than they drove. If he’d walked, no one would see his truck parked with the deacons’ vehicles and wonder about his reason for the private meeting. But that would be cowardly.

  He pulled onto the churchyard. The floodlight mounted on the building’s front lit the hoods of four vehicles. He recognized John Kreider’s newer blue truck, Oral Bergen’s old green truck, Girard Epp’s sedan, and Sylvan Muller’s panel van. Suzy hadn’t arrived yet. Her compact car, which didn’t meet the fellowship’s restrictions, was missing. He parked beside the Muller van, leaving space for Suzy’s car. Her little car could hide between the larger ones, but his vehicle would be prominently displayed. He might be a lot of things, but he didn’t want to be branded a coward.

  That’s why he was coming tonight. The deacons had said they only needed to meet with Suzy. It would be easy to sit back, let her take full responsibility the way he had twenty years ago, but Paul was done with easy. Suzy was worth fighting for, and he’d let her know by standing at her side this evening.

  Headlights broke through the fog—low, skimming the gravel road. His pulse skipped. Suzy’s car…He waited until she pulled into the slice of space he’d left, then he hopped out and jogged around to the driver’s side.

  Her eyes widened in surprise when he opened the door for her. “You waited for me?”

  “Yeah, but I just got here, too, so I didn’t wait long.” He moved aside as she stepped from the vehicle, then gave her door a push. “I was afraid the roads might be slick since the snow melted and then froze again. Did you have trouble?”

  “None at all.” She stood hugging herself, her wary gaze aimed at the church doors. She released a self-conscious laugh. “Although sliding into a ditch might be preferable to what’s waiting for me in there.”

  Paul couldn’t find any words of assurance, so he just offered his elbow, and she took hold. They walked together across the hard ground, he tempering his stride to match hers. She’d worn a midcalf-length straight skirt—brown, he thought, although it was hard to tell with the shadow of her coat falling over it—and the little slit in the back seam didn’t allow for wide steps. He didn’t mind slowing down, though. It meant a few more seconds of time alone with her before they faced the firing squad.

  Stop it! Hadn’t Abigail Zimmerman told them they were meeting with Christian brothers who had their best interests at heart? Hadn’t they prayed, first together and then individually, for God’s will? Of course they had. He led Suzy up the front steps, his confidence increasing with each step. He wouldn’t be a bit surprised if, right now, Abigail was covering the meeting with prayer. He needed to trust more and worry less.

  He reached for the doorknob, aiming a wobbly smile at Suzy. “Ready?”

  She bobbed her chin in a brief, emphatic nod. “Let’s go.”

  —

  Suzanne

  Suzanne crossed the damp, creaky boards to the women’s door while Paul entered through the men’s door. A wall separated the pair of cloakrooms, and during those brief seconds when he was out of sight, fear tried to take hold of her. Lord, let me lean on You, not on Paul.

  Revived, she hung her coat on a hook, tugged her sweater hem over her hips, then smoothed her hand over her hair. She hoped her attire and hairstyle, although different from the other women in the fellowship, would be satisfactory. She’d done all she could to prepare. Now it was time to share.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped from the cloakroom into the worship room. Paul had already made his way to the front and was sitting on the first bench on the men’s side. The four deacons—she knew all but one of them—sat on old wooden folding chairs lined up along the front edge of the preaching dais. For a moment her feet refused to move. The row of men looked so somber and forbidding. She sent up another short prayer for strength and moved up the center aisle.

  She reached the front, and the eldest deacon, Girard Epp, stood and stepped down from the dais. He held out his hand, and Suzanne took hold, grateful for the small touch. Without a word he guided her to the front women’s bench and gestured for her to sit. She sank down and folded her hands in her lap. She wanted to look at Paul, but she kept her gaze fixed on Deacon Epp as he returned to his chair, sat, and then sent a serious glance down the line of deacons.

  Deacon Epp said, “I think we should start with prayer. Brother Bergen, would you speak to the Lord, please?”

  The one man Suzy hadn’t recognized stood, bowed his head, and asked God to guide them and give them discernment. Suzanne found herself echoing some of his words in her heart—especially the request for God’s perfect will to prevail. The man ended with a solemn “amen,” and he sat.

  Deacon Epp turned to Paul. “Brother Aldrich, you’re welcome to speak first, if you like.”

  Paul rose. Color streaked his neck and cheeks, but he stood with squared shoulders, widespread feet, and hands linked behind his back—a formal pose, yet somehow at ease, too. “I’m here mostly to support Suz—Miss Zimmerman. As you, Brother Kreider, and Brother Muller might remember, when we were still young, she and I were very good friends. More than friends. I wanted to court her.”

  The three deacons he’d addressed nodded.

  “She left Arborville, and I married Karina Kornelson, but as you also know, Karina went to her heavenly reward when our son was very young.”

  Understanding spread across Deacon Epp’s face. “Brother Paul, do you intend to ask permission to court Suzy Zimmerman?”

  Paul turned a soft look on her. It lasted only a few seconds, but it lit something deep within her that continued to blaze even after he shifted to face the row of deacons again. “That’s my intention.”

  Deacon Epp faced Suzanne. “Then should we assume you’re here to ask to be reinstated as a member of the Arborville fellowship?”

  Suzanne stood. “Before I make that request, there’s something you need to know.”

  Deacon Muller waved his hand. “Miss Zimmerman, it’s common knowledge that you bore a daughter out of wedlock.”

  Suzanne could imagine the talk that had traveled through town. But they hadn’t arrived at the whole truth yet. “Yes, I think everyone in Arborville knows I have a daughter, but they don’t know who my daughter truly is or who her father is.” While the deacons sat silent and attentive, she shared about being sent away as a seventeen-year-old, giving birth to a child and giving her up for adoption, then raising someone else’s child as her own. “Because my baby’s father lived here in Arborville, I never planned to re
turn. I knew my return would raise questions, and I thought it was better if he never knew about our baby. But God had other plans.”

  She risked a glance at Paul and discovered him watching her with such a look of admiration her knees trembled. She wished she could stand beside him, hold his hand. Lord, let me lean on You…Facing the deacons again, she continued in a strong voice that hid her inner quaking. “God brought me back to Arborville, and He allowed love to”—she remembered Linda’s choice of words—“rekindle between us despite the grave error we made in our youth.”

  Four pairs of eyes widened. Deacon Muller’s jaw dropped open. He spluttered, “Are you telling us the father of your baby is…” In unison the four men gawked at Paul.

  Paul didn’t flinch. “Yes. I fathered Suzy’s baby. We’ve asked God’s forgiveness, and in His mercy, He granted it. We’ve also forgiven each other.”

  Suzanne said, “So now I’m seeking the forgiveness of my family’s fellowship leaders in the hope I can once again be a part of this body of believers.”

  She and Paul stood with a wide aisle separating them, yet she felt his support from the distance. He wasn’t holding her hand, but she felt as though he held her heart. If the deacons denied her request, Paul wouldn’t be given approval to court her. If they wanted a life together, he’d have to leave the fellowship. She prayed he wouldn’t be forced to make such an excruciating choice. He loved the people in this community, and they loved him. She didn’t want him to be forced to choose between her and his fellowship.

  Deacon Epp pressed his palms to his knees and pushed himself upright. “Brother Aldrich, Miss Zimmerman, thank you for your honesty. I’m sure this wasn’t easy for either of you.” He shot a look at the other three deacons. “It wasn’t easy for us to hear. The Zimmerman family has always had an excellent reputation in this fellowship. Your father, Cecil, was a dear friend of mine and a trusted leader in our church. We’ll want to move forward carefully so we don’t sully his memory within the community.”