Hidden in the Heart: An LDS Novel
Page 2
Chapter 1, Vacation
“Mommy, what’s that?”
Cathee glanced at her lovely daughter, taking in the almost unearthly likeness to her father–the same dark eyes, olive skin, and long, soft dark brown, almost black, hair. Thankfully, her resemblance was only skin deep. Christina had inherited the Laurenson personality.
Quickly, Cathee turned her glance toward the object in question–a distant bird soaring in the clear sky.
“Oh. That’s a hawk. It’s a bird that hunts animals like mice and smaller birds.” She explained before Christina could ask the inevitable questions.
Cathee turned her attention back to the relentlessly straight Kansas freeway. Traffic wasn’t too heavy, and the highway patrol was definitely not in evidence. The speedometer climbed accordingly. In another hour, barring any unplanned pit stop, they would be in Topeka. They were going to stay at the Capitol Plaza Hotel.
She was looking forward to visiting old haunts again. She hadn’t visited the State Capitol since she had been a Laurel attending a multi-stake youth activity.
Driving through the familiar landscape brought a flood of memories. Cathee flinched as they flooded in.
Her parents had died in a boating accident just a little over a year before Christina had come to be. A sudden storm had hit Wilson Lake, and the waves had capsized the boat. She had been living with her dad’s brother and his wife, Uncle Joe and Aunt Elaine. They had been kind, but they weren’t her parents. They had been distraught at the loss of her parents, but they’d managed to overcome their pain to take her in. Almost a year later when she told them about her condition, they were devastated. Their own six children had left the nest as missionaries and then come home, dated members, and married in the temple. They didn’t know how to cope.
Although the pain from losing her parents was a dull ache, it wasn’t like that other pain. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the events of that night were something she had brought on. She had flirted too much. Her dress had been too tight. There must have been something she had done to create the monster he had become, and so she lived with a gnawing pain, hidden in her heart.
She could laugh with her daughter. Play with her. Read to her. Dance with her. But she carried a shadow she couldn’t shake.
Christina’s four years had not been what Cathee had envisioned for her daughter. When she was a teen, before those terrifying moments had stolen her life, she had dreamed of being a mother of several children. Christina would not have been an only child, but the horror of those events wouldn’t leave her. Cathee couldn’t get past the trauma.
Post traumatic stress disorder.
Her thoughts brought out a sarcastic “Ha.”
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“Nothing.” She met Christina’s gaze in the rearview mirror and sent her a reassuring smile. When Christina’s smile flashed in return, Cathee turned her attention back to the road and to her own thoughts.
Her condition had a name, but it was an inadequate one. Like fetus. The names didn’t convey all the emotion contained in either word.
Names.
Clinical.
Dead.
Post traumatic stress disorder wasn’t dead. It was like a coiled snake ready to strike.
The other word. Fetus. The accurate Latin translation was “Little One.” Cathee preferred a different word.
Baby.
The small life within Cathee had never been a clinical condition. Christina had been a living entity from the moment of conception.
As soon as the bruises had faded and the realization had hit hard that Cathee wasn’t the only one sharing her body, after sharing her condition with her aunt and uncle, she had gone to the Bishop in their ward. He had referred her to LDS Social Services. The social worker, Lee Nguyen, had directed her to any assistance a single mother could get. She was grateful for the help, and she had been surprised Brother Nguyen hadn’t stressed adoption as the only option. It was offered as a choice, but she never felt degraded for choosing to keep her daughter. She couldn’t handle parting with the only living person she was closely related to–even if her daughter’s creation had been an act of violence.
She could sense the frustration of her Uncle Joe and Aunt Elaine. Shame ate at her. She had run away–run away from her former life, friends, family, from everything but her memories, her condition, and the Church. LDS Social Services had found a family she could live with in Utah. She finished the last few months of high school and then went on to attend Utah Valley University. Accounting was a perfect major. She could bury herself in her studies. As a single mother, she didn’t have time to worry about a social life she didn’t want.
During her time in school, she’d penned a few short notes to her aunt and uncle, but she hadn’t made an effort to bridge the gulf that divided them. She sighed and glanced in the mirror at Christina. Even though they’d moved back to Kansas, she hadn’t introduced her daughter to the only living relatives they shared. Thanksgiving for sure, she promised herself. I will introduce Christina then. She should have made the effort long before, but she wasn’t sure how they would react.
It was time to mend family ties. Several talks during General Conference had dealt with forgiveness and mending ties. She had felt the need then, but it was difficult to reach out when she didn’t know how her family would respond. Would they reject her daughter? She stifled another sigh. No need to worry her daughter. She did enough worrying for both of them.
It had been difficult to leave Christina with another woman while she was getting her education and then working full time. There were times she ached to be home with her precious daughter. Being a single parent was never easy, but Cathee never regretted her choice. She had felt grateful for her daughter’s existence many times over the past several years.
Christina’s excited voice broke through her thoughts. “Mommy, I see another hawk. See? It’s falling.”
Cathee peered through the windshield to catch a glimpse of the hawk. “He’s not falling, Honey. He’s diving. Looks like he found his lunch.” She looked over her shoulder at Christina, securely buckled in her booster seat. “Do you want to stop for something to eat?”
Christina’s vigorous nod was convincing.
“You can have a Happy Meal at the restaurant. Did you want fries or Apple Dippers?”
“Apple Dippers! And don’t forget the apple juice.”
Cathee suppressed a smile. Of course, Christina would go for the apples. She usually did. “I won’t. We’ll be there in five minutes.”