As the sobs eased, Leah shifted to stretch out a cramp in her leg. How she needed a run. The sad thing was, she could not run away from this mess.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Yes, I know you are. We all are, but somehow we will get through this. Like Grandma always said, ‘All will be well. God will get us through.’ After all, this is no surprise to God.”
“He should hate me too. I broke my vow.”
“Ah, Kirsten, no one hates you, least of all God.”
“I do.” She studied a ragged cuticle. “And I’m not too happy with José at the moment either.” Her jaw clenched. “I thought men were supposed to be the strong ones, take care of those they love.”
“Kirsten, there’s no sense playing the blame game. One step at a time.”
“Easy for you to say.”
To stop the words from pouring out of her mouth, Leah sucked in a deep breath and held it.
“Will you tell Curt and Thomas?” Now Kirsten sounded like a little lost girl.
Leah’s mother’s heart screamed in pain, far beyond the mother hurt of other times. She knew that staying in her nurse persona was mandatory. “Umm. Well, not immediately. But given time, this is one secret that is impossible to keep hidden.”
“Is praying for a miscarriage a sin?” Tears brimmed over and rivered down her face. “This is so unreal. How could we be so stupid? One time, Mom, only one time.”
Leah chose not to answer that. Kirsten was blaming herself enough as it was. How did we fail these children of ours? was her question. What did I do wrong that she wasn’t strong enough to resist the hormone rage? Lord God, forgive me for failing my daughter. We should have been better policemen.
Kirsten’s cell phone beeped, telling her there was a text message. When she didn’t pick it up, the phone rang. “It’s José, and right now I don’t want to talk to him.” She pulled away from her mother’s arms and swung her feet to the floor. Heaving a sigh, she reached for a tissue from the square box on her nightstand. After blowing her nose and mopping her eyes again, Kirsten propped her chin on her hands, resting her elbows on her thighs. “Four days to graduation.”
“Do you know how many periods you missed?”
“Two, I think. For a while I was so erratic, but lately I’ve been pretty regular again. It’s possibly time for a third one.”
“Have you spoken about this with anyone?”
Kirsten swung her head from side to side. “Only José. I told him I was late two weeks ago. He said not to panic. A lot he knew. One of the girls at school kept her baby and will be graduating with our class. She should have graduated last year. Two other girls I know of have had abortions. They were talking about it one day, said it was easy. Two days later they were feeling fine. Zip and no more baby, no more problems.”
Leah couldn’t believe they were sitting in her daughter’s bedroom discussing abortions and pregnancies like this, so businesslike. Trapping the torrent of inner screams was getting more difficult by the minute.
The cell phone rang again. They both stared at it. When it went to voice mail, Kirsten turned and propped one bent knee on the edge of the bed. “I thought girls who got pregnant were stupid. And here I am. All I want to do is crawl under the covers and not come out. Not ever.”
“Me too.”
“I’m going to wash my face and see if I can study. I have two more finals to go, English lit and econ. Concentrating has been impossible and I’m tired all the time.”
“You need to eat something. I could warm up the soup I made you.”
“No, thanks. If I eat, I’ll puke.”
“Has that happened a lot?”
“No, but enough that I’m not trusting my stomach.” Kirsten had always been the practical one. She’d learned to set goals in a class at school and kept on doing so when the semester was finished. It went along with the organizational gene she’d inherited from her father. When Kirsten stood, Leah did too. “I’ll be downstairs. Might go for a run first.”
The house phone rang and Leah crossed the hall to the master bedroom to answer it there.
“If it’s José, tell him I’ll call him later.”
Leah picked up the phone and pushed the button. “Sorenson residence.”
“Mrs. Sorenson, this is José. Is Kirsten’s phone not working?”
“No, it’s been ringing. She’s in her room and said she would call you back later.”
“Ah, okay. Tell her…”
Leah waited, chewing on her lower lip to keep from saying the things she really wanted to say, like “How could you do this to our little girl?” But she knew the consent had been mutual, and Kirsten had said as much. Still, it didn’t help her emotions. “Yes?” She knew her tone was stiff, something like her neck.
“Oh, nothing. Thanks.”
She heard the click before she shut off her phone and set it oh so gently back in the stand. She changed to shorts and a T-shirt and hauled her running shoes out of the closet. Good thing there were street lights, as dusk had dimmed the day.
Marcus was still sitting where she had left him, staring at the carpet. “I’m going for a run. You want to come?”
Slowly, as if he’d aged twenty years, he raised his head and shook it. Grief had etched deep lines from nose to chin, and she could tell he’d been crying.
“I won’t be gone long. Kirsten is in her room and plans on studying. She has two finals tomorrow.”
“Just like that. Drop a bomb and the world keeps on turning?”
“Would you rather I stay here?”
“No, go run. I know that’s how you process things.”
“How we both do.”
“I can’t.”
He’d said that twice tonight. I can’t. Words he had banished from his vocabulary years earlier. Can’t never did anything. With Christ I can. “All things are possible to those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose.” How often he had quoted that verse. Said it was his life verse. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Put your vest on.”
“Thanks.” She stopped at the closet and pulled out a vest with vertical reflector lines on the front and back, putting it on and tying it in front. “I’m going out to Mulberry.” Years ago they had promised each other that they would say where they were planning to run in case of an emergency. By now it was habit.
Leah stretched on the front step and ran in place for thirty seconds before jogging down the walk and out the gate heading west. It might have been wiser to drive over to the high school track but she might meet someone she knew. Right now she didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even Keira. As she ran by the Johnston house she saw the bedroom lights were out, along with the ones in the living room. Bjorn was probably working in his office at the back of the house. Hopefully Keira was asleep. She’d check on her in the morning.
She jogged for a few blocks until she could feel her body warming up and then lengthened her stride. She’d never been a sprinter or a marathoner. But running freed up her mind, so she often worked problems out with her running shoes slapping the concrete until the sidewalk ran out and then pounded the dirt on the running/bicycle path that paralleled the road.
Please, Lord, don’t let there be any emergencies tonight, Marcus can’t handle anything else right now. Losing his mother, who was so young, was bad enough, but this! What are we going to do? What can we do? Kirsten was basically an adult on May thirty-first. One week after graduation. Three weeks before they were supposed to leave for the missions trip. Lord God, what do I do? I feel like my hands are tied. She reached the rail fence of the Peterson place and put one foot up on the top rail to stretch, then the other. Bending over, she fought to catch her breath and walked in a circle before heading back the way she had come. One mile out, one mile back.
Kirsten had mentioned two girls who had abortions. What if they encouraged her to do that? What if she was thinking crazy thoughts? How could she even imagine such a thing in the first place, let alone ponder
it at length? But a baby would ruin their young lives, cancel out all their dreams. Unless she put it up for adoption. Gave up the next seven months of her life so the baby might live. Wasn’t that what they’d all been teaching? Do not punish the baby for the parents’ sin.
Either way, they would never see this grandchild of theirs. The least price to pay. Or was it? But none of it is our decision. How would she help Marcus get through this? Kirsten was too young to be married and care for a baby, but not too young to get pregnant. The thought brought on tears again. Leah mopped them away.
Chapter Six
I’ve got to talk with Leah.
But before Keira won the struggle to open her sleep-sealed eyes—or, more likely, tear-sealed eyes—the memory of yesterday came streaming back. She’d not even talked with Bjorn last night. By the indent in the pillow beside her she knew he’d been to bed. What had happened to her? She never slept that soundly. Turning her head, she zeroed in on the digital clock. Seven thirty, Bjorn shouldn’t have left yet. She lay perfectly still, listening for the shower or the telephone. Not a sound.
When she rubbed her eyes to clear the sand away, she made an important discovery—the headache that had returned late yesterday was gone. Further checking told her that the stomach roiling of yesterday was gone too. She picked up the phone and dialed Bjorn’s cell number. When he answered, she asked, “Where are you?”
“Down in the kitchen reading the paper. The coffee is hot if you feel like a cup.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right down.”
“You’re not still sick?”
“Doesn’t feel that way. Bye.” She shrugged into her robe, stopped in the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair, then, ignoring the mental reminders of yesterday, made her way downstairs. Pictures of her children growing up and now her two grandchildren lined the wall side of the stairs. What difference, if any, would her discovery make in their lives? Did they need to know about it or was it better to leave their memories of their grandmother intact?
Bjorn looked up from his paper and pointed to the cup of coffee he’d poured for her. “I can fix you some bacon and eggs if you like.” He studied her. “You still don’t look too good.”
“That’s encouraging.” She kissed his freshly shaven cheek. “Thanks for the offer and yes.”
“You didn’t wake even when I came to bed.” He folded the paper and laid it beside his plate, then rose and headed to the stove.
Keira took her seat and lifted the coffee to inhale the steam. The fragrance of coffee was almost better than the taste until she took the first sip. Just the right temperature to drink, so she took a swallow and set the mug back down on the table. “That was a… surprise yesterday.” She paused and waited for him to turn from the stove. “Really more of a terrible shock. Finding the birth certificates behind the picture in the sewing room.” He watched her as if waiting for her to respond. “But you can fix breakfast first. Nothing will change the fact that Kenneth is not my biological father.” Her voice sounded shaky, hesitant even to her own ears.
He studied her through his clear-framed glasses and then turned to the stove. “Are you sure you’re not making more of this than it needs to be?” He laid the bacon strips in the frying pan and fetched the eggs from the refrigerator. “One egg or two?”
“One bacon and two eggs. I think my stomach just realized it didn’t have supper. It’s growling at me.” She drank more coffee. She decided to ignore his comment. More than it needs to be? Ha. “How was your day?”
“Good. Are you coming in today?”
“Planning on it. Ten okay?” How could they be having such a normal conversation when her whole world had been rocked off its foundation?
“Over easy?”
“Yes.” Two could play this game. “Did that check come from the Davidson account?”
“It did. They weren’t pulling the check-is-in-the-mail scam. Looks like the post office did indeed lose it, or sent it to Alaska or something.” He flipped the eggs, set the bacon on a paper towel to drain, and handed her the toast to butter. When he set her plate in front of her, he paused. “It really doesn’t matter, you know.”
She decided to ignore that comment too. Maybe it didn’t matter to him, but he knew who he was and always had. She spread butter on the toast and bowed her head to say a silent grace. When she looked up, he was studying her. Keeping her attention on her plate, she dipped her bacon in the egg yolk and ate a bite.
“So what is really the point in all this? The bottom line.”
“The point is I’ve been living a lie all these years.”
“No, you weren’t. They were. You were the innocent child who was well loved and cared for. You couldn’t ask for a finer mother and father.”
“I know that.” She could feel exasperation creeping into her voice. “But now I don’t know who I am. How much else of my life has been a lie?”
“Yes, you know who you are. Adoption is legally binding and the adopted person is part of the family. Your only real need to find your biological father is for his health history.” He paused and thought a moment. “So you don’t know if Kenneth adopted you or not?”
“I would assume he did, but what do I know?”
“There would have to be adoption papers somewhere. Things were different then regarding if the adoption was closed or not. Or if they had to get your biological father’s permission for Kenneth to adopt you.”
“What if he didn’t?” She stared at him, the thoughts churning.
“Makes no never mind now, with them all gone.”
“How could he treat her like that?” Thoughts of her mother being deserted pummeled her mind. She must have been young and trusting, naïve.
“Men do strange things, sad things. If he was that kind of man, you were far better off without him.”
“True, but why didn’t she ever tell me?”
“Did you ever suspect anything?”
“Never. Well, not really. I mean, I do look like my father’s side of the family.”
“And not your mother, but you do resemble her sister.”
“I know. Even to the same body type, leaning toward the rounded side.”
“How is it you never saw your birth certificate before? Surely you needed it at some point?”
She digested his question. “Mom used my baptismal certificate when I got my driver’s license because she said she couldn’t find the birth certificates, either mine or Marcus’s. But strangely enough, she had the death certificates for the children who died.” Keira knew the story of her mother giving birth, between her and Marcus, to a little boy, who died minutes after being born and then a little girl dying of pneumonia when she was two, the fourth child. Keira well remembered that. She had adored her baby sister, Lizzy, and her mother had taken a while to recover after that happened.
“I don’t want to tell anyone.”
“Not even Marcus?”
“Marcus has always thought our mother was perfect, so why disillusion him?”
“So did you.” He refilled both their coffee cups. “What is that old saw, never judge a man until you’ve walked a mile in his moccasins?”
She frowned, staring into her cup.
“So what is bothering you the most?”
“That they never told me. Mother was always so adamant about telling the truth. I remember getting my mouth washed out with soap for telling a fib and yet here was this huge lie.” But is that all? Her mind fought to take over questioning again.
“She could have given you up for adoption.”
Keira heaved a ragged sigh. “She could have. You remember when my cousin Estelle had a baby out of wedlock when she was sixteen?”
“That was before I knew you.”
“Well, I was so adamant to Mother that Estelle should give that baby up for adoption. That she was too young to raise a baby. On and on. I got pretty hot under the collar about it, but Mother never said a word.” She mopped up the last of the egg with the corner of her
toast. “Back to your question, what bothers me the most?”
“Yes.” He leaned back in his chair, propping his coffee cup with both hands.
“I can’t ask her any questions. My mind is foaming with questions.”
“What about her sister, Helga?”
“What if she never knew?”
“How would they keep a secret like that?”
“I know. I want to know the whole story. I am hoping there might be some pictures or letters or something in the boxes that Leah and I haven’t found yet.”
“Go through the legal papers and check out the dates—of their wedding, when they came back home. Maybe the deed to the house?”
“I was so angry at Mother yesterday.” She wagged her head. “I just have so many questions.”
“By not telling anyone, you’ll not have the chance to find out more information. Who knows what someone might remember.” Bjorn checked his watch. “Sorry, I have a client coming in at nine. Since my office manager isn’t there, I need to open up.” He winked at her, then rose and set his cup in the sink. “Don’t hurry. We’ll continue this conversation tonight. Let me think on it. I know this is a shock.” He came over and put an arm around her shoulders, gave her a hug. And when she turned up her face, he kissed her. “If it even entered your mind that this would make a difference to me, put that right away. You are who you are, and we’ve been in love for too many years to see this as more than a bump in the road.”
Keira leaned against him. “Thank you. How do you always manage to say the right thing?”
“Just a gift, I guess.”
She looked up to catch the teasing light in his blue eyes. “I’ll see you in a while.” She finished her coffee after he left.
Ah, Bjorn, this is more than a bump in the road to me. “But I still don’t want to tell anyone. Mother, why didn’t you tell me? I know attitudes were different then, but what about when I grew older, had a family of my own? You lied to me.”
Keira forced herself to go back upstairs, get dressed, put on makeup, and get her car out of the garage to drive across town. She knew she should call Leah when even the car wanted to turn into the Sorenson driveway.
Reunion: A Novel Page 7
