Unmending the Veil

by Lisa Heaton

  While the conversation was going better than Emma ever imagined in her head, it was hard nonetheless. Robin was taking it well, and as for her, she felt as if a truck was lifted from her shoulders. With every word, every admission, the burden became lighter and lighter. Her daughter did not seem to despise her as she feared she would. Maybe there was freedom in the truth after all.

  The rest of the day went by in a blur. Robin talked to Mike, but never mentioned anything about the adoption. It was hard enough to sort through in her own mind, let alone try to express her feelings aloud. Her flight was scheduled for the next day, and until she spoke with her parents, she thought it best not to tell him.

  Upon her urging, Emma told Stan, and just as Robin suspected, he was too relieved to have Emma back in his life to be concerned with such ancient history. He was kind and understanding, a decent and caring man, and would be just what Emma needed. After her admission, there was a level of condemnation Emma carried around for decades that was lifted. There was something about bringing secret things out into the light. Once there, she remembered Chris’ saying, “you give God something to work with.” He had something to work with in Emma’s heart, and finally, she would find the freedom she longed for.

  As for their relationship, nothing changed as far as Robin was concerned. Emma had done what she thought was right at the time. And she could have never asked for better parents to have raised her. If anything, out of this, she gained another mother. That was what she already felt like to her. They had become so close over the past few years, and now her strong feelings made a little more sense to her. Refusing to allow this to become some emotional trauma, she instead chose to forgive the secrecy and lies and simply love Emma just as she always had.

  Robin spent three days at her parents’ home, but left feeling more unsettled than when she arrived. Oddly, it had nothing to do with the adoption or the secrets surrounding it. It was more the fact that she realized there was nowhere she belonged anymore. As she had looked around her parents’ house, it was unfamiliar to her. With no childhood memories to cause her to think back with fondness, there was no sense of comfort or of being home. It was theirs but not hers. They had a new life there, one that seemed to make them happy and one where she had no place.

  Someday, probably sooner rather than later if Stan had his way about it, he and Emma would marry. Where would that leave her? Although certain she would be welcome to stay on at the inn, could she live with the newly married couple and still feel as if she belonged? The thought of it seemed awkward. Newlyweds deserved privacy. And while running an inn allowed little room for privacy, strangers around was one thing, but a daughter who recently found out she was a daughter seemed beyond awkward. And who knew, maybe Emma would decide to give up the inn? So if not the inn and not with her parents, where did she belong?

  By her visit, in no way was she looking for answers or explanations, in truth, her motive in visiting her parents was to make them feel secure in her love for them. With that goal accomplished, she was on her way back to the airport. Surprisingly though, the trip unearthed feelings within her she never anticipated. She felt suddenly and terribly alone and without a place to fit in. Not only was she not who she thought she was, she no longer belonged where she always thought she belonged.

  Insisting that her father drop her off at the departing flights lane rather than going in for a long good-bye, they said farewell at the car. Having already gone through a tearful good-bye with her mother at the house, her emotions could handle no more. Once he drove away, she went straight to the airline counter and changed her flight. Instead of flying directly to Concord, she added a layover in Raleigh. Uncertain of how it might help, all she knew was that a familiar face and sympathetic ear was what she felt she needed at the moment.

  During her visit, she had wanted to tell her parents she was talking to Mike again, but could never get up the nerve. How could she? They would be angry about it, and after all the things that happened, could they ever forgive him? What kind of idiot they would think her to be to even allow him back into her life. When trying to envision what the conversation might look like, she felt foolish and pathetic as she made her argument in her head. “He’s changed, really. He is not the monster you saw evidence of that terrible, blood soaked night.” Would anything she said ever make a difference to them?

  Sitting on a hard plastic chair, she felt at a loss as to how her life could make sense anymore. Nothing made sense. There was a new turmoil settling within her. She prayed about it all throughout the morning, but peace never came. Since walking again with the Lord, there was a sustained peace she experienced, even when perplexed or uncertain about things, but that peace was gone, and in its place were chaotic thoughts and unsettled feelings. Bewildered by it, she could not seem to find her way through the maze of unresolved emotions.

  Deliberating between three states and three sources of confusion, she looked at each individually. In New Hampshire, there would soon be no room for her at the inn. Grinning at her own play on words, she thought of Emma and Stan, and knew that, out of kindness, they would always welcome her. Still, something about the thought of remaining there caused her to feel unsettled deep within. In Phoenix, her parents’ new life held no place for her. It was like traveling to a foreign land, one she knew absolutely nothing about. And worst of all options, in North Carolina, her face was on a proverbial wanted poster. How pointless to have even considered it in her deliberations. She felt alone, utterly and completely alone.

  Disturbed by this lack of peace, she thought of Chris’ words, how, when you experience chaos and turmoil, look for a way you may have stepped away from the Lord. Mystified, she prayed, “Lord, I don’t feel as if I have moved a step. Tell me what is going on. I feel so suddenly sad, like before.” She heard nothing in response.

  By late afternoon on Saturday, Robin was driving towards her old hometown. Only the second time since leaving all those years ago, she found herself just as uncomfortable when entering as the last time. Then, she made it a point to go straight to Mike’s, the cemetery, and leave town. This day, however, she was daring a stop.

  Inside the bakery, she was startled to see Mrs. Andrews, whose husband was Mike’s football coach all throughout high school. Unsure of how she might be received, she offered up, “Hi there, Mrs. Andrews.”

  “Robin.” Her voice was cool.

  Pointing to the case, she tried not to make eye contact. “I would like a dozen of the chocolate chip.”

  Ellen slung the case door aside and reached in with a paper tissue to grab half a dozen cookies. She dropped them in a white paper sack. Repeating the process, she slung the door closed again. Walking to the register, she spat, “That’ll be two fifty.”

  Handing her a five, Robin noticed with embarrassment, her hand was shaking. Why had she come in? She knew better, but somehow hoped things might be different after so many years.

  Ellen accepted the cash and carelessly dropped the change on the counter. “You have some nerve.”

  Taking the bag, Robin turned to leave.

  “He’s rebuilding his life. Last thing he needs is for you to come ‘round and mess that up. He is a good man, too good for his own good, I s’pose.”

  Without turning or responding, Robin walked through the door and inched like a lowly worm to her car. She drove around for a few minutes to clear her head, extremely sad. Making a pass by her childhood home was a huge mistake. It reminded her of her earlier reflections of the morning. Where did she belong? What was certain was that it was not there in that town. That fact led to deeper concerns. What was she doing with Mike? He belonged there, nowhere else. Thinking of his letter and what he said about moving on, she realized that as long as they continued on the way they were, he would never begin a new life, either. He was waiting for her still. Unintentionally, she was giving him false hope. Their only possibility of being together was for him to leave his home and his job. She would never ask that of him. And where would they go? T
he inn would not always be her home, and New Hampshire had nothing for her besides the inn and brutal cold. Her dilemma was becoming more and more complex and real.

  Calling him, she was relieved when he answered. She had not told him she was coming to town, wanting to surprise him. It crossed her mind more than once that if she was unable to get hold of him, her trip would be pointless. While the phone rang, it occurred to her that maybe the trip was a mistake.

  “Hello.” He was glad to see her number come up. While at her parents, they had only spoken once, and then, he could tell she was speaking softly. Imagining she was sneaking off to answer his call, he determined not to call her again, not until he knew she had left there. It was never his intention to make her uncomfortable. Realizing she still had not told her parents about their friendship, he lost all hope about developing their relationship beyond where they currently were.

  “What are you up to?” More specifically, she needed to find out where he was. Having driven by the house already, she knew he was not at home.

  “Cleaning up around the church.” Taking a break, he went out to sit on the steps. No matter how many times they talked since Christmas, it was still a thrill to him every time. The sound of her voice on the phone made him unbelievably happy. It was more than four months since that intimate moment on Christmas Eve, and still, they never mentioned it. Since then, he had yet to hear her voice that he did not recall what it felt like with her sitting on his lap, arms circled around his neck, desperately clinging to him. Often, he heard her words again, “I need you.” Clearing his throat, he tried to chase the memory from his mind. “What are you up to?”

  “Oh, just out running some errands. I stopped off and bought some cookies.”

  “What, not homemade?”

  “Not today.”

  “Don’t bother mailing them. Well, you can bother, a cookie is a cookie.”

  As she pulled into the parking lot, she saw him sitting on the front steps of the church. Just as he was the last time she came to town, he wore jeans and a white t-shirt. Even at such a distance, the sight of him caused her heart to skip a beat. Clearly, he would always have that effect on her. So far, he still had not seen her. Sitting for a moment longer, she looked at the white building. It was her church from the time she was born, well, from the time she came to live in the town. It was where she and Mike married. Those very steps he sat on were the same steps they ran down after they were pronounced man and wife, being pelted by birdseed. That memory sent her over an emotional cliff and, uncharacteristically, she began to cry.

  Unsure, he asked, “Are you crying?” His heart sank, and he feared the worst. Was she calling to say it was over?

  She sat for a moment without answering. Watching him, she could see him rubbing his chin; his head was bowed.

  He asked again, “Baby, tell me why you are you crying?”

  “I am okay.” She wiped her eyes and sighed. Opening the car door, she grabbed the bag of cookies and began to walk toward the church.

  Catching sight of her, he bounded off the steps and jogged to her. Scooping her up in his arms, he spun her around and around. Grinning from ear to ear, as happy as he could ever recall being, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk.” It felt right to be in his arms, but it was not right at all. How had things gotten to this point? When she came to visit him in the fall, she simply wanted things to be settled and over. Then his letter started something that she was beginning to believe was a mistake. No matter how she tried to justify their friendship, when she found herself unable to tell her parents, she knew it was something she was keeping in the darkness. And in that case, did that not make it wrong?

  He sat her back down and took her hand. “Were you crying just now?” Pushing her hair back out of her face, he could see the evidence of it before she even answered. Her lashes were still wet, and her eyes were red.

  “Not all-out crying.” Feeling silly, she knew she could not tell him the craziness that was going on in her head. He was so excited to see her, and if she did, it would be like pulling the rug out from beneath him. That was not her intention in the trip at all.

  They went back to the steps and sat down. Handing him the bag, she apologized, “Not homemade.”

  Taking one from the bag, he offered her one.

  She declined. “None for me.” The blood rushed to her face in embarrassment when she thought about Mrs. Andrews.

  Dropping his cookie back in the bag, he pulled her nearer. “What’s wrong, Rob. Talk to me.”

  Leaning her head on his shoulder, she sighed heavily. “I just found out I was adopted. That’s pretty big news.”

  Momentarily speechless, he sat there. With his arm wrapped around her shoulder, he gave her a little squeeze. “Wow.” What else could you say at such a moment?

  “Emma is my biological mother.”

  “Humph. I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Yeah, me neither.”

  “How do you feel about it?”

  “I am not angry or anything.” Thinking for a minute, she added, “But I feel like I don’t know who I am now. Like I am not who I once thought I was.”

  “Sure you are. You are no different today than you always were.”

  “You were there for most of my life. Looking back, did I miss something?”

  “No, not at all. There is no way you could have known. I mean, I guess it was unusual how Emma treated you. Think about the elaborate birthday gifts and wedding gifts. She showered you with stuff as long as I knew you.”

  “True. But I didn’t know that was unusual. I thought it was because she never had kids of her own.” Seeing the irony of her statement, she added, “Well, besides me.”

  They talked for a while when finally he asked, “You seem okay with this. So why were you crying?”

  “I have felt very sad today. At my parents, I don’t know, they are so far away, and I am not part of their lives now. Nothing fits anymore.”

  He thought about how he felt when he was with her during Christmas. He was a visitor in a world where he did not belong. So he had a sense of what she meant. “I get that.”

  It was getting late and he knew dark would be upon them before long. If she was staying in Raleigh again, it would be best if she started back fairly soon. “Are you hungry? We can go grab a bite at the diner.”

  “I better not.”

  “I’m not talking about a date or anything.” Always fearing he would cross some invisible line of friendship, he constantly felt the need to explain himself in moments like that. Whatever label was appropriate for their relationship, at least he had the comfort of knowing when she needed someone, he was where she came. That meant everything to him.

  “I know. I just don’t want to go to the diner.”

  “Does anything else sound good?

  “I can’t think of anything.” Appreciating that he had no way of understanding her hesitation, she admitted, “I don’t belong here anymore, Mike.”

  “Of course you do. After so long, I know plenty of folks would be happy to see you.”

  Cutting her eyes around at him, she spat, “You cannot possibly know what it was like after…” Robin stopped abruptly. The last thing she wanted was to bring up the past. It was a painful memory for them both, and to discuss it would not change what happened.

  “What?”

  “Once you were gone, things were different for me, my parents, too. The town became different.”

  He reached for her, rubbing his hand in circles on her back. “Different how?” As far as he could tell, the town never, ever changed. It was the same place, the same people he had known all his life. No one came, no one left, well, she left.

  Realizing he honestly had no idea what happened, she said, “Nothing, it doesn’t matter now.” She stood. “I think I need to head on back to Raleigh now. Thanks for talking to me, though.” Moving quickly down the steps, in her mind, she tried to drown out the cheers of onlookers as they toss
ed birdseed at her. The memory was so vivid, though, she had to blink repeatedly in order to stop seeing the people there lining the sidewalk. The recollection brought with it such torment, she was uncertain if she could make it to the car without crying again.

  Stunned that she was leaving so quickly, he jumped to his feet and followed her. She was upset and he was not exactly sure why. “Let me come with you. We can have dinner there and talk some more.” He knew it might be months before he would see her again. If she would let him, his hope was to go back up to the lake in the summer. It was all he could think of since returning from his trip at Christmas.

  “I think I need some time alone.” She knew he could not possibly understand what was troubling her. In a sense, she was not sure either. The past few days had caused her to feel uncertain about most things in her life, including him.

  Reminiscent of her departure when she was there before, he walked her to the car, and this time without wondering or asking, he put his arms around her and held her close. He wanted to ask her again to stay or if he could follow her back to Raleigh, but decided against it. There was something different about her, something distant. When they were together at Christmas, he sensed her fear, in that they were getting closer and it scared her, or maybe she feared what she was feeling. This time, however, it was not the same. It was emotional distance. And because of that, it was he who had reason to fear.

  As she backed out of the lot, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. She was pulling away from him; he could feel it. Deep down in his spirit, he knew it was about to be over. Without the strength of God Himself, he was certain he would never make it through life without her.

  Tapping on the screen door of his mother’s house, Mike yelled, “Mama!” Opening the door, he let himself in and found her in the back bedroom, vacuuming Trevor’s old room.

  Smiling at him, she turned the vacuum off. “What are you doing here?”