Even Now

by Karen Kingsbury

  Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, after five hours of air travel, Lauren grabbed her things from the overhead compartment of a 737 and headed through the plane and down the Jet way into Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. Even then she couldn’t believe she was home again. Back where it all started, all those years ago. Eighteen years. A lifetime.

  Emily’s lifetime.

  She exited out the gate and followed the signs to baggage claim. Emily was going to meet her near the entrance. Lauren wore a conservative skirt and a jacket with low pumps, the sort of outfit she might wear to the Time magazine office. Her hair was freshly trimmed, as long and blonde as it was when she left home. As she walked down the concourse, her heart kept time with her heels. All her life she’d cradled other people’s children, wondered what Emily might’ve looked like if she’d lived. Now, in a few minutes, she would know.

  The reunion would be beyond anything she could’ve dreamed, but it would be marked by sorrow. Emily told her the day before that her dad’s cancer was much worse. The doctors were giving him a few weeks at best. Lauren picked up her pace, seeing in her mind’s eye her father the way he looked when she left home. Her heart hurt because they had so little time now. But it was impossible to feel only sorrow. After all, whatever time they had was a gift she’d never dreamed of having.

  The crowds were heavy, and Lauren dodged around a large group of teenagers dressed in basketball uniforms. Emily probably traveled with her soccer team. Maybe the two of them had passed just like this in an airport sometime and had never known it. She darted toward the escalator, steadying her carry-on bag in front of her and gripping the rubber handrail.

  Live combat didn’t make her feel this nervous.

  The escalator carried her down, slowly, slowly. Lauren peered into the clearing and she saw a hallway and a pair of double doors. Just beyond them was a pretty girl with dark hair, pacing a few steps one way and then the other, her eyes never leaving the doorway. Was that her? Lauren had about five seconds to study the girl, but in the end she didn’t need even that long to know. The girl had Shane’s dark hair, his striking features. And at the same time she was a brunette replica of herself at that age. Lauren stepped off the escalator and rushed through the doors, out of the way of the flood of people behind her. She stood there, staring at the girl, her heart in her throat.

  The reality hit her just as their eyes met, as they held, and as they spoke volumes without saying a word. This was her daughter, her Emily! Her baby girl really was alive!

  Emily spoke first. “Mom?” She came to her. “It’s you, right?”

  “Yes, Emily.” Lauren dropped her bag and held out her arms. Her daughter came to her then, rushed into her embrace, and stayed there. Lauren rocked her back and forth as tears streamed down her cheeks. Their hug was warm and sure, and it took Lauren back to the last time she’d held Emily. She’d missed a lifetime of rocking her, but she wouldn’t miss one second more. “You’re so beautiful.” She breathed the words into her daughter’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

  “Me neither.” Emily drew back. Her eyes were bright as the sun, even though her cheeks were tearstained. “I looked for you all my life.”

  “I missed you every day.” She pressed the side of her face against her daughter’s. “If I’d only known.”

  Emily sniffed, and a bit of laughter came from her. “But you’re here! You’re really here. Now we’ll never be apart again, okay?”

  “Okay.” She studied her daughter, reveled in the sight of her. They’d missed so much together, that maybe Emily was right. Maybe they would find their way to the same city and never be apart again. It was a piece of the story that hadn’t yet been written. Lauren’s life had been in the Middle East, but that was before finding Emily. Now the future held more questions than answers.

  “Hey.” Emily stepped back and picked up Lauren’s bag. “Can we get something to eat? I brought a photo album we can look at.”

  It was past one o’clock, but until then she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. “Here? At the airport?”

  “Why not?” Emily linked arms with her. “We’re here, right?”

  “Right.” Lauren couldn’t remember feeling this happy, not since her daughter’s birth. They collected her two checked bags and headed back through the double doors up the escalator to a small Mexican restaurant.

  Emily kept checking her watch and finally Lauren gave her a curious look. “Are we late?”

  “No.” She laughed, but it sounded nervous. “I told Grandma and Papa we’d take our time.”

  “Okay, then.” They ordered, and Lauren found a table. When they were seated she leaned closer. She couldn’t get enough of Emily, the way she looked so much like Shane and so much like herself all at the same time. She covered her daughter’s hand with her own. “Why don’t you show me your photo album?”

  “All right.” Emily grinned. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

  The first photos showed her as a toddler, taking her first steps, and sitting in front of a white-and-pink frosted birthday cake with one lit candle in the middle. Each picture was like a precious, painful window to all Lauren missed, all she’d lost out on. Why hadn’t she gone back? Even one phone call and all the lonely years could’ve been avoided. By the second page she felt overcome with sorrow.

  “Wait, Emily.” She leaned her elbow on the table and shaded her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’m sorry.”

  “Mom.” Emily took tender hold of her wrist and peered in at her. “Hey, don’t be sad.”

  “I am.” She sniffed. “I should’ve been there, and now . . . ” A sob slipped free, and she willed herself to find control. “There’s no way to get that time back.”

  “Yes, there is.” Emily leaned in and kissed her cheek. “That’s what pictures are for. They give you away back.”

  “But it hurts so much.” She wanted to be strong. This was her first chance in nearly two decades to actually be a mother to her daughter. She shouldn’t be the one leaning on Emily. “I’d give anything to go back and do it all over again.”

  “I know.”

  “Really?” She lowered her hand and looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Really, do you know how much I wish I’d been there?”

  “Yes, Mom. I know. I could tell from the first time we talked.” She closed the photo album. “We can look at this later.”

  Lauren sat up a little and stared at the blue leather cover on the book of photos. She could do this, especially with Emily at her side. She could go back to a missed lifetime and watch her little girl grow up in pictures, and somehow she would get through it. Without question she would be stronger for having done so. “No, I want to see them now.” She put her arm around her daughter and smiled. “Just don’t be embarrassed if I cry, okay?”

  “Okay.” Emily’s eyes shone with compassion.

  The next photos showed a preschool Emily riding a shiny red tricycle, then Emily dressed as a fairy princess for Halloween. Before they could turn the page, two of Lauren’s teardrops hit the plastic covering. Lauren grinned at Emily. “See? Told you.”

  They both began to giggle, and then — for the first time in their lives — Lauren and Emily fell into a side-splitting round of laughter, the cleansing, complete sort of laughter only a mother and daughter can share.

  Emily couldn’t get over it.

  She and her mother had been together less than an hour, and already she felt a bond that would last a lifetime. Neither of them liked refried beans, but they were both crazy for spicy guacamole and black olives. They both broke their chips in half before dipping them into the salsa. When they noticed, they laughed again.

  The photos and the food, the little habits they had in common, all of it was a wonderful distraction. And it helped Emily keep from telling her mother what was coming next: that she was about to see Shane Galanter.

  Because she couldn’t tell her. Not yet.

  The phone call with her father had been amazing,
and they too had talked a few times since.

  He had the same strong faith as Emily, which was not the case with her mother. And only a week before Emily found him, he had broken off an engagement. Emily couldn’t help but believe that was somehow part of the miracle God was pulling together.

  “So, Mom . . . ” They were done eating. Emily planted her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “Tell me about Dad.”

  Her mother’s eyes grew dreamy and faraway, but defeated at the same time. “He was amazing.” She crooked her finger and pressed it first beneath one eye, then the other. “He wanted so much to be your daddy.” She hesitated, directing her gaze across the concourse and out the full-length glass windows toward the runway. “He asked me to marry him.” Her eyes found Emily again. “Did you know that?”

  Joy filled Emily’s soul. “No. I didn’t.” Her grandparents hadn’t said anything about an engagement. She felt angry for the briefest instant, but then she let it pass. She could talk to them later about why they hadn’t shared that information. The important thing was that long ago her parents had wanted to be married. It was all she could do to stay seated when she wanted to dance around the table and shout out the news. She settled herself down. “Tell me.”

  “It was before his family moved away.” She narrowed her eyes and looked off to the distance again. “He gave me a ring engraved with the words Even now. He told me he would always love me, even now when things seemed so impossible.” Her eyes glistened. “I wrote a story back then about the two of us in one of my notebooks and that’s what I called it. Even Now.” She took a slow breath, the memories clouding her eyes.

  “I found it.” She took a quick breath, not wanting to break up the memory. “I haven’t read the whole thing. But the message on your ring . . . that’s so romantic.”

  “Yes.” A resignation filled her tone. “Shane was always that way.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Nothing, really. Shane thought if we were engaged that our parents would work with us. He tried everything to find a place where he could live while we finished our last year of high school.”

  “Nothing worked out?” It was all so sad, so tragic. And though she knew what was coming in a half hour, Emily found herself getting teary eyed.

  “Our parents just wanted us apart.” There was no condemnation in her mother’s eyes, no animosity. Just resignation. “Shane’s parents owned his car and everything else. After he bought me the ring, he didn’t have ten dollars left.” She gave a sad laugh. “So they took him to California, promising that he’d have a way back to Chicago as soon as he graduated.”

  “They lied.” The possibility hadn’t occurred to Emily before. She might’ve grown up with her mother and father if these grandparents she didn’t know had done something to help their son stay in Illinois. “That’s so sad.”

  “It is.” Her nod was firm. “But I forgave them. I had to.” She smiled. “Otherwise I would’ve shriveled up and died from hating them.”

  Emily watched her mother. Being with her was like opening a chest with layers of treasure that would take a lifetime to experience. She leaned back and squeezed her mother’s hand. “You know what I hope?”

  “What?”

  “I hope I’m loved that way someday.”

  A bittersweet longing knit her mother’s brow together. “Me too, Emily. Me too.”

  The conversation shifted then. They talked about life in the Middle East and her mother’s friend, Scanlon.

  It was the first time her mother mentioned him, and Emily felt a ripple of alarm. “Are you two . . . you know, are you dating?”

  Her mother gave her a pensive smile. “No — ” she raised an eyebrow — “though Scanlon might think we are.” She grew more serious. “He’s a wonderful man. I think he’d like a future with me, but . . . ” She lifted her shoulder. “I know what love is, Emily. I might not have had it for very long, but I had it. Unless I feel that way again, I don’t see myself getting too serious with anyone.”

  They talked more about Scanlon and the recent tragedy at the orphanage. Her mother got tears in her eyes again when she talked about a little girl she’d met there — Senia, a seven-year-old with a missing front tooth.

  “I’m sorry.” Emily kept her tone low. “How’s your arm?”

  “It’s healing. It still hurts, but even that’s fading.”

  Emily didn’t want to think about how different the attack might’ve played out. How awful it would’ve been to find her mother and learn that she’d been killed all within a few days. Her mother changed the subject again, telling Emily about the stories she’d covered while in Iraq and Afghanistan. They realized that one of them — a cover story about the veil being removed from the women in the Middle East — was a story Emily had written a report about for her English class.

  “Wow.” Emily took a sip of her pop. The moment was approaching, and she was getting more excited by the minute. “Who’d have thought my mother would be famous?”

  Again they laughed, and her mom went into another tale of danger and a story she’d written early in the Iraqi war. This time Emily was only catching half the details. She was about to burst from keeping the truth in.

  Her dad’s plane was landing in fifteen minutes!

  “Emily?” Her mother angled her head. “Are you okay?”

  She jumped to attention. “Of course. I was just thinking how much I’d like writing for a magazine someday.” Silently she congratulated herself on the good cover. “Want more chips?”

  Her mother looked puzzled. “We stopped eating chips awhile ago, honey.” She laughed and gave Emily a silly look. “Let’s get home.” A ribbon of pain flashed in her eyes. “I want to see Mom and Dad.”

  “Now?” Emily’s toes tapped out a panicky rhythm beneath the table. “I was going to tell you about the soccer season. We almost went to the playoffs, did I mention that?”

  “You drove here, right?” Her mother was already pushing back from the table, wiping her mouth and gathering her dishes on the tray.

  “Right.” Emily grabbed her fork and stuck it into the lukewarm mix of chicken and lettuce that covered her plate. “But I’m still working on my burrito.”

  She made a pleading look. “Could you maybe bring it with you? I really want to get home.”

  “Okay. When you put it like that.” She grinned and went back to the counter for a carryout box. She took her time scraping the contents of her plate into the container, and then clearing her dishes from the table. She could feel her mother getting antsy, but she had to get the timing perfect.

  They’d arranged it all. Her dad would walk off the plane and head down the concourse to the baggage area. When he reached the bottom of the escalator, he would call her cell phone, letting it ring once. She had her phone in her jeans pocket, set on vibrate. His call would cue her to take her mother and meet him.

  Without drawing attention, she checked her watch. Five more minutes. Suddenly she had an idea. She swiped her hand over the table, making it look like she was trying to clean off the crumbs. But ass he did, she knocked over her pop, splashing it onto the floor and under the table. “Oh!” She jumped back. “I’m so clumsy.”

  Her mother darted across the café and grabbed a stack of napkins. “Here.” She gasped. “Yikes. Emily, look out. It’s coming off the table onto your shoe.”

  “Oops.” She sidestepped the stream of pop. “I think I need more napkins.”

  They worked together to clean the mess, and then Emily stood and tossed the wet garbage into the trash can. “The trouble is, I’m more thirsty than ever.”

  “Well — ” her mother pointed to the pop dispenser — “your cup’s okay. Why don’t you fill it before we go?” Her eyes danced in a way that was only half teasing. “Maybe you’d better get a lid too.”

  Emily pointed her finger in the air as if her mother’s suggestion was a good one. She was filling her cup with Dr Pepper when the phone in her back pocket vibrate
d. She gasped and nearly spilled her drink again. But instead she slipped a lid on it and hurried back to her mother. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “You sure?” She grabbed her carry-on bag and headed toward the café entrance. They were halfway out the door when her mother pointed back at the table. “Your leftover burrito!”

  Emily turned and brushed her hand at it. “I’m not that hungry after all.”

  Her mother shrugged and gave her a crooked grin. “It’s hard to keep up with you, Emily.”

  “I know it.” She looped her arm through her mother’s and held her chin high. “Everyone on the soccer team always tells me that.”

  Her mother hesitated, looking at the signs over the concourse. “Which way do we go?”

  “This way.” Emily’s heart pounded hard within her. She hoped she wouldn’t drop from anticipation before they reached him. “We have to go back through the baggage area.”

  “Isn’t there a quicker way to — ”

  Emily dragged her toward the escalator. “Nope, this is the best way.” She cast her mother a quick grin. “Trust me.”

  Shane Galanter had lived a lifetime for this moment.

  He was standing next to his suitcases, at the center of the baggage area, just off the main path leading to the escalator. Even now it felt like he might be dreaming. How many times had he seen a blonde with her build, her graceful mannerisms, and followed her only to realize he’d been wrong again? That initial conversation with Emily was still fresh in his mind. From the first few lines it was clear that he was the man she was looking for and that she wasn’t part of any school tour group. But when she explained that she was his daughter . . . It had been more than he could take.

  All along he’d wondered about what had happened to his child. Sometimes — as with the woman at the hotel the night of his engagement party — he would see a blonde with older kids and wonder for a minute if maybe one of them was his. But there were so many missing pieces. He wasn’t sure if Lauren had kept the baby or not, and if she had, he didn’t even know if his baby was a boy or a girl.