by Diana Palmer
“Because if you change your mind,” she said, “the judge could get irritable, think you’re not stable. Which is the problem you face in your custody case anyway.”
“Nope. Fern’s her mother in every real sense of the word. I’m making arrangements for a better place to live, out in Troy and Angelica’s bunkhouse, but that won’t match what Fern has set up for her. I think we can work together and figure out a joint custody arrangement.”
Daisy’s face broke into a smile. “I love that you’re looking at Mercedes’s best interests. I’ll start the paperwork tomorrow.”
A frantic shout from the cluster of skaters in the middle of the pond kicked Carlo’s adrenaline on.
“Who’s that yelling?” Daisy asked.
“Sounded like Fern.” He turned and skated toward the crowd, heart racing. Fern wasn’t a yeller, and that hadn’t been a fun-loving shout. Something was wrong.
He reached her where she stood in the middle of the pond, face white. “It’s Mercedes,” she gasped out. “I’ve hunted everywhere and I can’t find her.”
Behind him, Daisy skated up while Susan came from the other direction.
“Let me check with Roxy,” Susan said, pointing toward the child they’d come with, and skating over toward her.
“I already did,” Fern called after her. “She said Mercedes was upset and wouldn’t play. Oh, why didn’t I keep closer watch on her?”
Carlo’s pulse raced as he looked around the pond, trying to spot his daughter. “But she was so happy just a couple of minutes ago, skating with me.”
“That’s how she’s been lately. Her moods have been really up and down.” Fern was turning around slowly, shading her eyes, scanning the area. Her breath came in ragged gulps.
“That’s normal with all she’s been through.” Daisy had a hand on his arm and another hand on Fern’s. “Maybe she got overwhelmed with feelings. Some kids run off when that happens.”
Carlo’s heart was racing and his head spun with guilt. Had he caused this, somehow, by pushing Mercedes to skate with him? And it was cold out here, no place for a child to be alone as twilight fell. No telling who was lurking around, possibly meaning harm to a little girl. And the ice had been checked, but there was always the chance a fall or a current had made it thin.
But there was no time for emotions. And as Fern buried her face in mittened hands, her shoulders shaking, he realized he had to take the lead. Finding Mercedes was up to him.
“Everybody, gather round,” he roared out in the same voice he’d used to command a company of soldiers. “Over here. Everybody. Now.”
Members of their group skated their way quickly, seeming to recognize the seriousness in his voice.
Quickly he explained the situation to them, described what Mercedes was wearing. “Let’s get organized. We need somebody to take care of the kids and keep them happy and together. And ask them what they saw without scaring them.”
“I’ll do that,” Susan offered. “I know the kids.”
“Keep them near the bonfire, and keep it stoked up,” he said, making the plan as he spoke. “We’ll need somewhere warm to bring her if we find her. When we find her.” Important to keep everyone’s confidence up. They would find her. They had to.
And they could use all the help they could get. “Someone needs to call the cops. I don’t think there’s anyone dangerous out here, anyone who could have taken her, but we should cover all our bases.”
At that, Fern’s sobs increased. He regretted having to say it, but there wasn’t time to be sensitive, not now. If someone had taken Mercedes, every second was important.
“I’ll call Dion,” Daisy said, already on her phone.
People chimed in, offering to help, accepting his leadership without question.
He started assigning territory. “Ralph, right?” he said, pointing to a burly man whom he’d seen skating well. “You get a couple of people and cover this whole pond. Look for breaks in the ice, spots near the edge where a kid could hide or—” his voice cracked a little “—fall in. Here, punch your number into my phone first.”
He turned to a woman who wasn’t wearing skates, a sporty outdoors type who’d been helping to gather wood for the fire. “You get a group. Even numbers. Go through the woods in pairs. Stay where you can see each other.”
She nodded, started pointing at people to help her, assigning them partnerships. Good.
“Parking lot,” he said to the two remaining adults. “Look in and under every car. Give your phone numbers to Daisy and Susan.”
Which left him and Fern, and she was shivering and sobbing. “Let’s think,” he said, putting an arm loosely around her. “There’s no time for tears.”
“But it was my fault!”
“Snap out of it!” He softened the words with a squeeze to her shoulders. “We know her best of all. You do. What kinds of places does she like to hide?”
“She likes to get into little places.” She sniffed. “Like that book, Hide and Seek Sammy. Oh, Carlo, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Come on.” He guided her over to the gathering area, found her a seat by the bonfire and sat down himself, removing his skates and pulling on his boots. “You stay here with Susan and Daisy and the kids. She’ll be drawn to the fire as it gets dark, and I want you here.” He gave Daisy a meaningful look. “I mean it, no searching. You stick together and wait for her.”
Fern nodded, her shoulders still shaking. This highly competent woman had finally lost it.
“We’ll find her,” he promised. There was no room for doubt here, not in this type of situation. You had to keep your confidence up. “Pray. Hard.”
He ran off toward the far side of the lake, checking every small spot, praying the whole time. Lord, help me find her. Don’t let me lose her before I’ve had the chance to be her dad. If You let me find her, I’ll give her up, whatever she needs, whatever’s right.
He searched clumps of bushes, checked dry cattails sticking up through the ice. Waved and called encouragement to the other searchers. Went hoarse with calling his child’s name.
His fingertips and his toes were going numb, and his face felt raw in the wind, but all he could think was how cold Mercedes must be.
He dipped in and out of the woods, because even though there were searchers there, he knew he was better trained than any of them. His eyes automatically scanned for small footprints and his ears were alert for little-kid cries.
But there was nothing. He’d gone most of the way around the pond with no sign of her. His stomach tightened as he reluctantly concluded that someone might have taken her.
Please, Jesus, keep her safe.
Then he saw the outline of a rowboat, upside down, covered with snow.
In a flash he thought back to one of the stories they’d read together during the blizzard. Something about boats, all the uses of boats.
Upside down, it’s a home for a clown. The picture had shown a clown peeking out from the edge of an upside-down rowboat.
Would she really?
He ran to the boat. The wind was fierce now, whistling through the pines, making his eyes tear up. He couldn’t tell if the boat had been disturbed. “Mercedes?” he called, quieting his voice.
Was that a sound? Hard to hear over the wind, but maybe.
He heard it again as he lifted up the boat.
And saw a small, pink-and-purple-clad shape there. “Daddy?” the shape said with a little sob.
Thank You, Jesus.
He scooped her up in his arms, checked her limbs for injuries, kissed away her tears as she clung to him. “Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?” His heart was racing, now with joy, because she looked okay and she felt wonderful.
“I’m cold,” she said, burrowing into his chest, crying. “I called and called but nobody came.”
“C
ome on, let’s take you to Mama.” He shifted her to hold her even tighter against his chest, trying to warm her.
She nestled in. “I got scared,” she said confidingly.
“Me, too, when I couldn’t find you.” Hugging her, he shot up another prayer of supreme gratitude.
Then, suddenly, she struggled violently to get out of his arms. He let her go, put her down on her skates but kept hold of her shoulders. “What’s wrong, honey?” he asked, squatting down in front of her.
“Are you going to take me away now?” Her eyes were round, her voice worried.
After a moment’s puzzlement, he suddenly understood her question and shook his head. “I’m not going to take you from Mama Fern,” he said. “I’m going to take you back to her.”
She hesitated, considering his words. “Really?”
“Really. Mama Fern needs you and you need her.”
She held out her arms to him, and as he picked her up and felt her arms go around his neck, a lump formed in his throat.
Holding her, looking around the darkening pond as it sparkled in the moonlight, he felt God’s presence as never before in his life, and with it, a sense of calm came over him. God had it in control. God was making everything right, and He’d continue to do so.
Carlo couldn’t even call out, he was so choked up, so he simply held Mercedes tight and set off at a fast walk toward the bonfire.
“Mama!” Mercedes cried when they got there, and Carlo put her into Fern’s arms.
“You found her!” came Daisy’s voice.
“Praise the Lord,” Susan said as the kids cheered.
Fern didn’t say one word, but her eyes, lifted to his, were filled with such gratitude and relief that he felt ten feet tall.
“Tell the others?” he asked Susan, whose eyes were wet.
“Of course.” She headed off, calling in her strong voice.
“Oh, honey,” Fern said, cradling Mercedes close, “are you okay? Let’s get you right by the fire. Mama was so scared!”
“I did like the clown in the book,” Mercedes said. “But it wasn’t fun. And I was cold.”
“Of course you were,” Fern scolded, holding Mercedes’s small hands toward the fire, holding the child herself in her lap. She looked up at Carlo. “Thank you. Oh, Carlo, thank you so much. I’m so, so sorry I let her get lost.”
He sat down behind them, wrapped both arms around them. “Thank God. Praise God.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A WEEK LATER, as Fern parked in front of the dog rescue where she and Mercy had been stranded with Carlo, her mind played a movie of memories: hot chocolate and burned cookies, Carlo’s deep rumbling laughter, his arm warm and protective around her shoulders. His tender kiss.
“My first sleepover!” Mercy bounced in her car seat. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
Mercy had clung to Fern for a couple of days after the near disaster at the skating pond, but then she’d gotten back into her four-year-old groove: playing hard at day care, eating and sleeping well at home, proving her resilience. And when she’d been invited to sleep over at Xavier’s house for his birthday, she was over the moon.
Fern helped Mercy unhook her seat belt and then pulled the overnight case from the trunk.
“I’ll carry my new sleeping bag,” the child said, holding out her arms for the prized pink item.
Fern thought Mercedes was way too young for a sleepover, but Angelica, calling to invite her, had brushed aside Fern’s objections. “She’ll be fine here. She’ll have Xavier, and her dad will be here, too. Her dad. I still can’t believe Carlo has a daughter!”
So maybe it was okay. Fern’s own childhood had been a little short on fun family sleepovers. What did she know about how to raise a child anyway?
Now Angelica opened the door, sank to her knees and pulled Mercy into a hug. “We’re so glad you’re here, honey! Come on in, it’s cold out.” She looked up at Fern. “Do you want to drop her off or stop in for a minute?”
Angelica’s casual question surprised Fern. Was it normal to just drop off your four-year-old at someone’s house?
“We have two other girls and three boys. It’s going to get crazy, but I’ll have plenty of help. I can handle it.” Angelica got to her feet and held the door open, smiling at Fern.
“I’ll come in,” Fern said, “get her set up and settled and make sure.” She met Angelica’s eyes. “I’m a little overprotective. I can’t help it.”
“Of course you are, after the scare you had.”
“You heard about that. I feel awful that I let Mercedes get lost. It was all my fault.”
“What, that she got lost?” Angelica’s voice, which had sounded distracted and light until then, suddenly got focused. “Are you beating yourself up about that?”
“I should have been watching her every minute. I got upset and preoccupied and she was gone.” She waited for Angelica’s gasp of horror.
It didn’t come. Instead, “Did I ever tell you about the time Xavier escaped from the hospital?”
“What? No.”
“He got a whole block through downtown Boston. In a hospital gown, no less! And a complete stranger brought him back.”
Fern leaned back against the doorjamb. “But that wasn’t on your watch.”
“Yes, it was. I had him out of his room in the playroom and got talking to one of the other moms. I looked up and he was gone.”
“Wow.” Fern took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, some of her tension ebbing out with it. “I feel like such a bad mother.”
“I know, right? But we’re all bad mothers at times. Now come in and see what we’re planning.”
The living room where she and Carlo and Mercy had gotten to know each other was transformed with blue and green balloons and crepe-paper streamers. “Of course he wanted a puppy theme,” Angelica explained. “Wait till you see the cake.”
“It’s shaped like a dog bone,” Xavier shouted as he ran into the room, another boy racing behind him.
Quickly, Fern turned to check Mercedes’s reaction. Would the older boys intimidate her?
But Xavier stopped in front of Mercedes, grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the kitchen. “C’mon, Mercy! We’re cousins now, so you can come over all the time. But you’re gonna have to learn to play fun games, not dolls.”
“I play fun games.” Mercy put a hand on her hip as if daring Xavier to disagree.
“Then, c’mon!”
The three kids ran off together without a backward glance.
“I’ll, um, just put her stuff down, I guess.” Fern set down the birthday present she and Mercedes had wrapped together, checked the overnight case again to make sure her daughter’s favorite stuffed frog hadn’t been forgotten.
“I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry. And Carlo will be here all night.”
Fern’s heart lurched. “Carlo’s staying over?”
“Just for tonight, for the party. In fact, he should be here any minute. Troy and I can use the help, and we thought it would make Mercy more comfortable. I’m so excited to have a little girl in the family! I’m going to spoil her like mad.”
Troy came up behind Angelica, smiling as he heard what his wife was saying. He put an arm around Angelica and patted her rounded belly. “Good practice for us.”
“That’s right,” Angelica said, her dark eyes sparkling. “Pretty soon, Mercy will have a new baby cousin to play with.”
“That’s wonderful.” Seeing the loving way the two of them looked at each other, Fern felt her heart aching. Maybe she and Carlo could have had something like that, if she hadn’t blown it.
“In fact,” Angelica said, “did Carlo tell you he’s going to be moving into the bunkhouse as soon as the weather breaks? That way, Mercy can have room to run and play and get to know all of us better, and we can help when his n
ew job starts up.”
New job? “Great!” Fern tried to inject some excitement into her tone, but her stomach churned.
“You should take a look at the bunkhouse on your way out,” Angelica encouraged. “I don’t think it’s locked. I fixed it up a little when Xavier and I were staying there, and it’s really homey. Mercy will be super happy there.”
Of course she would. “Okay, I will. Thanks.”
Fern found Mercy and hugged her goodbye. “Daddy will be here. You go to him if you need anything.”
“I will, Mama. I gotta go play.” She struggled away and ran over to where Xavier and the other boy were dumping an army of plastic men on the floor.
Fern watched for another minute, then forced herself to walk out the front door. She waved to Angelica, who was greeting another mother and a pair of twin girls, and trudged toward her car.
“Leave her all day tomorrow if you want,” Angelica called after her.
Fern waved back, unable to speak.
Mercy was fine without her. She was being embraced by Carlo’s family. And what could Fern, a nerdy librarian, all alone in the world, offer Mercy that would compare with Carlo’s wonderful family?
She drove a couple of hundred yards, but tears blurred her vision and she stopped to find a tissue. There was the bunkhouse. She blew her nose. Well, sure, she’d stop and take a look. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do.
She walked inside and looked around, immediately aware of how the pine-paneled walls, bright area rugs and colorful curtains said home. There were two small bedrooms and a kitchen along one side of the living area.
It was perfect for Carlo and Mercy.
A spasm of pain creased her stomach and she sank down into a rocking chair, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, still in her winter coat.
She was going to lose Mercy.
Just as she’d already lost Carlo.
By ignoring his offer of a marriage of convenience, she’d given up all she’d ever wanted in life. Now that he saw what a bad mother she was, he’d never take her back. He’d never let her keep Mercy. What claim did she have on the child anyway?