When Mercy Rains

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Their car pulled away, and Alexa hurried inside, eager to find out whether Grandmother had enjoyed the party as much as she hoped.

  Suzanne

  Suzanne sagged against the doorjamb. Thank goodness Andrew and Olivia had left early. A tension headache throbbed at the back of her skull. Maybe it would ease with their departure. Being in the same room with Anna-Grace—the sweet baby girl she’d never had the chance to hold—had nearly turned her inside out. Only by constant prayer and keeping a careful distance had she managed to resist capturing the young woman in her arms and never letting go.

  She held the door open for Alexa, who carried four boxes from the porch at once. Two more trips brought all of the boxes into the house. When Alexa set the last ones on the floor, Suzanne caught her daughter in a hug, determined to push aside the images of her lost-to-her baby girl. To her dismay, hugging Alexa did nothing to ease the deep pain of loss.

  Her brother, sisters, and their families had all gathered in the front room at Mother’s request. The adults crunched together on the sofas, and the children sat cross-legged on the floor. Mother remained in her wheelchair looking as regal as a queen on a throne. She’d parked herself below the landscapes Suzanne had painted years ago. She’d forgotten all about the paintings until she saw them hanging on the wall, one slightly higher than the other in a pleasing vignette. Alexa had done wonders in the short time she and Mother were away.

  Mother patted the rocking chair. “Suzy, sit. Alexa, if I tell you who the boxes are for, would you deliver them to their rightful owners for me?”

  “Of course.”

  One at a time Alexa held up the boxes, and Mother peeked inside and announced the recipient’s name. When all the boxes were handed out, Mother said, “All right now. Open!”

  The little girls pulled out their kitties or bunnies and squealed with delight. The boys, after a moment’s pause, began a mock boxing match between their elephant and dog. Sandra and Tanya exclaimed over their bears, and Alexa gave Mother an exuberant hug. Shelley peered into the box but didn’t remove her bear.

  Jay held his dog over his head where Ian couldn’t reach and looked at Grandmother. Puzzlement puckered his forehead. “Grandmother, isn’t today your birthday?”

  Mother nodded.

  “Well, then how come you gave us presents? Aren’t you supposed to get presents on your birthday?”

  Tears stung Suzanne’s eyes as a tender expression crossed Mother’s face. Mother said, “Jay, my best present is realizing how blessed I am to have each of you. I gave you a little gift so you would remember this day and know how special you are to me.”

  Jay stared at his grandmother for several seconds as if uncertain he’d heard correctly. Then he darted across the floor and threw himself into her lap for a hug. Each of the other children followed his lead, and Mother hugged and kissed them by turn. When she’d set little Ian aside, she said, “Why don’t you children take your toys upstairs. You can play in the big bedroom.”

  Ian darted to the piano bench where Alexa was sitting and grabbed her hand. “You come play, too, ’Lexa.”

  Alexa immediately rose. “Okay. We can get out the Memory game.” She herded the giggling children around the corner and up the stairs.

  Mother turned to Tanya, Shelley, and Sandra. “I gave Suzy hers this morning, so she already knows about this, but there are voice boxes in your bears. If you pinch its tummy, you’ll hear the message.”

  Sandra lifted her bear as if to try it, but Mother held up her hands. “Not now! Wait until you’re by yourself. It’s personal.”

  Sandra lowered the bear to her lap. “All right.”

  “Clete, Derek, and Harper,” Mother went on, her voice serious, “I didn’t get you a toy. I figured you’d think I’d completely lost my mind.” The men glanced at each other and snickered. “But tomorrow each of you can go to the hardware store and choose something you need. Charge it to my account. That will be my gift to you.”

  Clete frowned, clearly puzzled. “You don’t have to do that, Mother.”

  “I know.” Mother lifted her chin and pinned her son with a firm look. “But I want to. So you just do it, all right?”

  The three men murmured their assent.

  Mother leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Thank you.”

  Suddenly Shelley yanked the bear from her box and jammed her thumbs against the toy’s stomach. Mother’s voice blared into the quiet room. “You take such good care of everyone. I appreciate you and I love you.” She held the bear at arm’s length and scowled at it, then lifted her scowl to Mother. “Why did you give me this?” Harper put his hand on his wife’s knee, but she knocked it away and snapped, “Why, Mother?”

  Mother gripped the armrests on her chair. “I already told you why. Because—”

  “Because realizing how much we mean to you is your gift, blah-blah-blah.”

  “Shelley!” Sandra gawked at her sister. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  Shelley grabbed the bear Sandra was holding. “Let’s see what yours says.”

  Derek reached over and took hold of the bear. His fingers must have found the voice box, because Mother’s voice once again rang. “You are pure sunshine and delight. I love you more than words can say.”

  Shelley released the bear with a shove and turned to Tanya. “Want to play yours?” She swung her glare on Suzanne. “And yours, Suzy? Why not let us all hear what Mother said on yours.”

  Harper rose, pulling his wife up with him. “Come on. You need to take a break.” He started to pull her toward the kitchen.

  She wrenched her arm free and moved away from him. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had my say!”

  He folded his arms over his chest and glowered at her.

  Suzanne trembled from head to toe, but she managed to stand. “Shelley, please don’t do this. Not now.” Not after she and Mother had enjoyed such a blessed time of fellowship. Not after Mother had finally lost her stern look and was trying to open herself to her family again. Couldn’t they enjoy one day of peace together?

  Shelley started to laugh. A bitter, ugly laugh. “Aren’t we instructed not to put off until tomorrow what should be done today?” She aimed a snide look at Mother. “Isn’t that what you always told me when I was growing up? ‘Get it done now, Shelley. Procrastination doesn’t honor God.’ ” She snorted. “As if you were worried about what God thought. You were only concerned about the neighbors finding out another one of your children didn’t live up to your standards.”

  Tears rolled down Sandra’s face, but Mother showed no expression at all. It appeared she’d shrunk inside herself, buried by Shelley’s ugly accusations. Suzanne looked at Clete, waiting for him to come to Mother’s defense, but he sat with his head low, his jaw set in a stubborn jut. Someone had to counter Shelley’s attack. Maybe as the oldest—even though she’d been absent for most of her siblings’ lives—she should be the one.

  “Shelley, I realize you’re upset, but that doesn’t justify being so disrespectful.” She spoke softly, evenly, but firmly. “I think it’s best if you follow Harper’s advice and take a break before you say anything else.”

  “Well, you know what, Suzanne, I don’t really care a great deal about what you think.” Shelley’s voice lost its hard edge. Instead, a deep, intense hurt carried in her tone. “Of course, I’m alone in not caring. Everyone else seems to want to cater to you. Tanya … Sandra … even Clete.” She sent an accusing look across the three of them before facing Suzanne again. “You think we should hire a nurse, so we hire a nurse. You think the house needs painting, so it gets painted. For twenty years everything was one way—Mother’s way—and now you prance back into our lives and everything changes.”

  Shelley marched around the room, flinging her hands toward items. “Your paintings on the wall. Your quilts here and there. Your daughter—your illegitimate daughter—worming her way into Mother’s affections the way my legitimate daughters never have.” She whirled on Suzann
e, her chin quivering. “You left and all the smiles faded from this place. From that day on, Mother didn’t gently teach, she commanded. And no matter how hard I tried, I could never satisfy her. Because she was so busy holding you up as our glowing example—Suzanne, our missionary nurse off serving man and honoring God. Lies! All lies!”

  Lies … The word echoed through Suzanne’s mind, searing her with its reality.

  Shelley flopped back onto the couch. She picked up the teddy bear she’d discarded and gazed at it for several seconds. Then she sighed. “I guess maybe I know how the prodigal son’s brother felt when his father killed the fatted calf for the one who’d been gone. It isn’t much fun to be the one who’s always done right yet never gets acknowledged for it.”

  A soft creak—the squeak of the rubber from Mother’s chair wheels—broke the tense silence. Suzanne stepped out of the way as Mother eased her chair across the floor and stopped only inches from Shelley’s knees. She took the bear from Shelley, held it between them, and pinched its stomach. “You take such good care of everyone. I appreciate you and I love you.”

  Shelley’s expression didn’t soften.

  Mother laid the bear gently in Shelley’s lap and then cupped her daughter’s face in her hands. “The bear is meant to be your fatted calf. Your robe. Your ring. I know it can’t make up for the years I should have been more loving and encouraging. I was angry with myself, and I let my feelings of failure spill over onto my children. I’m sorry. I love you, and I appreciate everything you’ve done to be helpful from the time you were a little girl until now.”

  Skepticism curled Shelley’s lips.

  Mother’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s the truth, Shelley.”

  The truth … Moments from the past weeks flashed through Suzanne’s memory—times of sidestepping the truth, allowing misconceptions to continue. She’d held the truth in both fists and refused to let it free out of fear of hurting people, but as she watched her sister sit in selfish, bitter pride, Suzanne realized she had only been trying to protect herself. Her family deserved the truth. She deserved to be free of this heavy burden. Even if it meant facing more recrimination, she had to stop living a lie.

  She headed for the door.

  “Suzy, no!” Sandra called after her, panic threading her voice. “Don’t go!”

  Suzanne paused to send her youngest sister an assuring smile. “I just need to run a quick errand. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” As she headed across the yard, she thought about Alexa’s plans to make regular return visits to Arborville. If she finally shared her secrets, would she be welcome here again?

  Paul

  Paul turned off Danny’s light and closed the door. Even though it was summer, he liked to keep the school routine—early to bed and early to rise. Stability and structure … it was how his parents raised him. He’d only chafed against their rules when he reached his teen years. To ill effect. More ill than he’d originally known. He prayed daily he’d be able to keep his son from making the same foolish mistakes he had. And even though Danny occasionally fussed about his dad’s predictable routine, Paul intended to keep to the status quo.

  He entered the living room and picked up his newspaper, ready for his nightly reading, but someone knocked on the door. Probably his neighbor, Mrs. Lapp, bringing cookies for Danny again. She always worried the boy didn’t get enough home-baked treats. After tossing the paper aside, he caught the door handle and pulled it open, a smile and thank-you hovering on his lips. But instead of Mrs. Lapp, he found Suzy Zimmerman standing on his porch.

  His smile faded quickly. He’d never hesitated about asking Mrs. Lapp in. After all, she was over seventy. No one would raise an eyebrow. But Suzy? Inviting her in was a good way to get the local gossip started. He stepped outside. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back. In a pink-checked blouse, her hair caught in a simple ponytail, she looked young. And uncertain. He understood the feeling.

  She glanced at his untucked shirt and sock-covered feet. A blush stole across her face. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.”

  He was sorry, too. Being in close proximity with her brought out emotions he didn’t like to juggle. Anger, regret, frustration, confusion … He couldn’t wait for her to return to Indiana. He would never have thought he’d attach such negative feelings to Suzy. She must have a good reason for showing up on his doorstep the night of her mother’s birthday, though, so he’d do his best to be civil. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “It concerns our daughter.”

  “What about Alexa?”

  Her nostrils flared slightly as she drew in a breath. She seemed to be gathering patience. “Paul, I’ve tried to tell you, she’s mine.”

  He squinted at her in the waning evening light. “Just because I didn’t have the chance to raise her doesn’t mean—”

  “Paul, please …” The color in her face had drained, making her eyes seem darker. Haunted. For a moment she pressed her knuckles to her chin, her eyes closed. When she looked at him, she had regained her composure. She spoke in a flat, nearly emotionless voice. “Could you drive out to the house? There’s something I need to tell you—to tell my family … and Alexa—but I can’t do it twice.”

  “Danny’s in bed.”

  “Is there someone who can stay with him for a little bit? This is important.”

  Mrs. Lapp would come over without a moment’s hesitation, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask her. Not until he knew what this was all about. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  A pained look crossed her face. “The truth about our daughter.”

  The familiar anger boiled through him. “I already know the truth.”

  “No, you don’t. But you need to know. I need to tell it. Please … can you come?”

  He blew out a mighty breath. “I will not listen to another warning about staying away from Alexa. She’s my daughter, and I have every right to—”

  “For the last time, Alexa is not your child!” Suzy pressed both palms to her chest as if she needed to keep her heart from escaping. “Our child is Anna-Grace Braun.”

  Paul stumbled backward and slammed his shoulder blade on the corner of the mailbox nailed to the house. He felt his shirt tear, felt the metal jab into his flesh, but he ignored the pain and stared at her in shock. “A-Anna-Grace?”

  Suzy nodded miserably, tears winking in her eyes. “Yes. Now please … will you come?”

  He brushed past her, down the porch steps, and across the yard. Prickly grass poked his soles but he moved steadily toward the Lapps’ house. He called over his shoulder, “I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

  Suzanne

  “I cried the entire day after they took my baby girl away. I wanted her so badly.”

  The sounds of the children’s laughter in the room above contrasted with the almost deathly quiet in the front room. Alexa sat next to Mother in the rocking chair Suzanne had abandoned. The two of them held hands and kept their gazes riveted on her. But Paul, who had taken the piano bench, and her siblings and their spouses angled their heads toward various spots in the room, apparently uncomfortable with Suzanne’s tale.

  She continued bravely, inwardly praying for strength to tell the truth, the whole truth. “I begged the midwife and the home’s directors, but they all said no. Said the papers were signed, the adoptive parents had been notified. They said I couldn’t change it now. So then I begged God to let me have her back. I promised I would be the best mother any child ever had if I could only have her back. But they still didn’t bring her to me. Instead, the next morning, they told me a taxi would arrive soon to take me to the recovery house where I would stay for three weeks before being sent home. I didn’t want to go. Not without my baby. But I knew it was useless to argue. So I dressed, and I went out to the front porch to watch for the taxi.

  “It was December. So cold.” She paused and sent Mother a sad smile. “I was glad Mother had in
sisted I take my coat. Even with it buttoned all the way up, the wind chilled me clear through, and I went around the side of the house where the wind would be blocked. I leaned against the wall and tried to plan a way to get my baby back. And that’s when I heard it.” She closed her eyes, reliving the moment.

  “What?” Alexa’s breathless query brought Suzanne’s eyes open.

  She looked at her daughter. Love swelled. Oh, how she prayed the truth wouldn’t fracture her precious child’s heart. “I heard a mewling. A sound so soft and weak, I thought it must be a kitten. I knew how cold the little thing would be, and I couldn’t let it freeze, so I went looking for it. Out behind the garage I saw a box stuffed with an old towel. The towel was moving, and the mewling sound came from underneath it. I remember thinking how awful—someone had abandoned a litter of kittens. I lifted the edge of the towel to peek inside, and I nearly fainted when I saw, not kittens, but a baby.”

  Sandra gasped. She raised her face to stare at Suzanne and covered her mouth with her hands. Suzanne nodded somberly, acknowledging her sister’s reaction before going on.

  “A baby girl so tiny and new her umbilical cord was still attached. And she was hungry! I could help with that.” Automatically her arms formed a cradle, and she began to rock gently from side to side. “I ducked into the garage and fed her, crying the entire time because I’d not been given the chance to nurse my own baby. But this little one didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t her real mother. She nursed and then fell asleep in my arms. I bundled her back up in the ratty towel and started to take her inside, to give her to the caretakers.”

  She stopped rocking and tightened her arms around herself. “But when I came around the house, I saw the taxi waiting. They’d put my suitcase on the porch, and the driver already had it, loading it in the trunk. He saw me and asked if I was ready to go. I didn’t even stop to think. I just said yes and climbed into the taxi with the baby. But instead of the recovery house, I asked him to take me to the hospital. I didn’t know how long the baby had been out in the cold. I wanted to make sure she was all right.”