Skye sat so that she could observe both entrance doors on opposite sides of the cafeteria. The door to her left swung open, and Skye stared in that direction, her heart taking a funny beat. Two teen boys wearing white aprons hurried inside and then headed into the kitchen.
Skye glanced at her watch and sighed. Five after one. Millie said they’d be here around one. That could mean one thirty—or one forty five! She sipped a glass half full of warm lemonade, raked her fingers through her hair, and tapped her fingernails on the table. Where are they?
The door to her right swung open and in came Millie, followed by a teen girl who could easily pass for Skye’s sister. Clutching her red wallet and keys, Millie had on her waitress uniform, minus the cap, and Emma wore an orange tank top and jean shorts. In Emma’s arms was a humongous book with a blue-flowered cloth and white lace cover. Her hair is exactly like mine, Skye thought. The same color and length and everything. This is too cool.
Skye smiled and stood as both visitors smiled back and headed toward the center of the room.
That big book’s gotta be a photo album, Skye surmised.
Skye was never much into hugging, but she suddenly had a strange urge to do so. After all, this was her real family, and real families were supposed to hug. She chewed her bottom lip and contemplated what to do. They might not be into hugging either, she reasoned and, although she wanted to run into Millie’s arms, Skye held back and waited.
“Skye, honey, how are you?” Millie blurted out and gave Skye a warm embrace. “Let me look at you,” she said as she moved Skye to arm’s length and their eyes met. “I still can’t believe you’re Jacy’s little girl, all grown up—and standing right before my very eyes.”
“I’m fine—ah—Aunt Millie,” Skye said. Without warning, tears blurred her vision as she glanced at Emma. “Let me guess,” Skye joked. “Could this be Cousin Emma?”
“Hi,” Emma said, her voice quivering with excitement. “I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I already know you. I almost went nuts when Mom told me what happened at the diner Friday night. She’s been telling me about you and Uncle Jacy and Aunt Rita since I was this big.” Emma held her hand out to her side. “She called Denny at the Marine base right away and told him, and I could practically hear him yelling all the way from Norfolk. Seeing you again has made Mom happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. Thanks.”
“I really didn’t do anything other than be at the right place at the right time—I guess,” Skye said. “This whole thing has me going crazy, too. I’ve wanted to learn about my parents ever since I can remember, and now—”
“Would the camp folks mind if we’d sit here and chat a while?” Millie looked around the empty room.
“Oh, no,” Skye said. “This is where the director said we should meet. Nobody will be in here again until five o’clock.”
“That’s great,” Emma said. “Mom and I both work evening shifts, so we have lots of time to gab before we have to go.”
Skye sat, and Millie and Emma joined her across the table. Skye wanted to start the conversation, but her exploding thoughts had her tongue all knotted up.
Emma immediately opened the album to the first page. “Mom and I thought you’d like to see what we all looked like over the last ten years. One thing we’re not short on is family pictures.”
“Skye,” Millie said, “after your mom destroyed all your family photos, I realized how important it was to have roots, so I started taking pictures like crazy. I have four more albums like this. Oh, here’s a copy of your picture that I promised.” Millie pulled out the photo from her apron pocket.
“Thanks,” Skye said. She studied the picture and then slipped it into her back jean pocket. “And I’m sure glad you took all these other pictures of your kids. Now I can get to know you much better.”
“This is so exciting, I can hardly stand it,” Emma said. “Denny said that he can’t wait to meet you, but that won’t be until his first leave at the end of the summer. Mom, how’s that gonna work if Skye’s in Pennsylvania?”
“We’ll work something out, sweetie,” Millie said.
“I’m sure Mom and Dad Chambers will do all they can to help us,” Skye said. “They’re really super.”
“I can tell you really love them, Skye.” Millie pulled the album in front of her. “And it’s very obvious that they love you just as much.”
“Did I tell you that Morgan’s a foster child, too?” Skye asked.
“No, you didn’t,” Millie said, paging through the book as though she were looking for something. “What happened to her parents?” She stopped and looked at Skye.
“All Morgan knows is that her parents got divorced about four years ago and her dad went to California with another woman. Morgan’s mom has a bunch of other kids and lives near Philly. She just couldn’t handle Morgan’s special needs, so she gave Morgan the choice to go to a ‘facility’ for kids like her or to go into foster care. Morgan’s mom comes to see her only once or twice a year, which really tears Morgan up inside. Mom and Dad Chambers are really the only parents she’s known for the last three years, and she thinks it was the best thing that ever happened to her.”
“Hey, Skye!”
Skye turned and saw Morgan wheeling toward her from the kitchen.
“Hi, Morgan,” Skye said. “You’re not finished with work already, are you?”
Morgan eyed Millie and Emma as she approached the table. “Nah, I just took a five-minute break. I wanted to meet your cousin.”
“It’s nice to know you,” Emma said. “I’ve already heard a lot about you from Mom.”
“Skye and I have been best friends for a long time, so I’m interested in what’s happening with her right now.”
Hmm, she almost sounds too interested, Skye thought.
“Well, we’re really glad that Mom met Skye at the diner,” Emma said.
“And we’re glad to know you, too,” Millie said.
“Right,” Morgan said, starting to wheel away. “Well, gotta get back to work. See you later, sis.”
“Yeah, later,” Skye said.
“She seems really nice,” Millie said.
“Yeah,” Skye said. “She’s really cool.” But I’m wondering if she’s missing her mom with all this going on with my family.
“Mom, show Skye what you looked like when you were a kid. Those pictures are a riot.”
“We can go through the book from cover to cover if Skye wants,” Millie said.
“I’d really like to,” Skye said. “We have a lot of time to catch up on.”
“And we want you to tell us all about you, too,” Emma said.
All afternoon Skye talked with her aunt and Emma. While Skye examined every last picture in the photo album, Millie and Emma filled her in on the Eister household and what had happened in their lives for the last eleven years. They talked about school and their jobs and how so very proud both of them were of Private Dennis Eister, U.S. Marine Corps. Millie also shared all the details about the day Skye was born and how cute she was as a toddler and how hard it was to give her up.
Then Skye had her turn to talk. As fast as her lips could move, she told them about all her foster homes, Keystone Stables, her horse Champ and her best friends—especially Chad. She also made a point to tell them about Jesus and how important he was in her life. When Skye glanced at her watch, she could hardly believe how the time had passed.
“Wow, it’s already four o’clock,” Skye said, standing. “I’ve got to get down to the barn and help cool down the horses. They should be back just about now from their long trail ride. I think Champ’s the only one who got the day off.”
Millie shuffled through the album, looking for something. “Wait a minute, Skye. I have something very important to show you.” She pulled a small stack of envelopes from the back of the album. “Oh, here they are. I knew I had stuck those letters in here.”
“What letters, Mom?” Emma asked.
“Skye,” Millie said, “o
n Friday evening when I was driving home from the diner, it dawned on me that I might have something that’ll help you track down your dad.”
Skye’s heart took off and her gaze darted from Millie’s eyes to the letters in Millie’s hands.
“These are all letters I wrote to your dad and Charlie Hamlock—the other inmate I knew.” Millie flipped through the pile. Turning the last letter over, she handed it to Skye.
Skye saw that it had been addressed to her dad. “But why aren’t any of these opened?”
“Remember I told you that your dad wouldn’t see me or write? And remember I had said that I had written to Charlie for awhile, but he stopped writing?”
“Yep,” Skye said.
“Well, these are all letters I had intended to mail, but I never did. I finally decided it was no use. Why I kept these letters all this time is beyond me.”
“So how can they help Skye?” Emma asked as she examined a letter.
“Look on the back,” Millie said. “It’s not really the letters that will help. It’s what’s on the envelope.”
“There’s some kind of number here,” Emma said. “Is that important?”
“You bet your booties,” Millie said. “The average person can’t just decide to send a letter to someone in the pen. The inmate will never get the letter unless that code number—it’s called the ‘inmate number’—is on the back. Without that, the prison returns the letter without the inmate ever seeing it.”
Skye looked at the envelope and read, “LX-4102. So this was, or is, my dad’s number.”
“Yep, and here’s Charlie’s number, too.” Millie handed Skye another envelope.
Skye read, “QH-9332.”
“Hey, Mom, that’s super,” Emma said. “Skye can write and see if she gets a response—from either of them.”
“I’m going to write, too, and see what happens,” Millie said. “If either of them is there yet, they just might write back this time.”
“Are the numbers ever changed?” Skye asked.
“No,” Millie said. “I remember Charlie telling me that early on. He joked that he was stuck with that number for life.”
“Is there anything in the letters that might be important?” Emma asked. “Or are they private and you don’t want us to read them?”
“It’s okay if you read them, but there’s nothing in any of them that will help Skye,” Millie said. “Skye, keep one letter from your dad and one from Charlie.”
“What if they’re not at that prison anymore?” Emma asked.
“Well, the way I understand it, the prison will forward the mail to the person if they know where he is,” Millie said. “They’d definitely know if he’s in another pen or at a halfway house. After that, I’m not sure if they keep track. So, if the letters come back—”
“I’ll be up against another stone wall,” Skye said.
Chapter six
Skye hurried to the barn, and after she checked on Champ and gave him a big hug, she found Mrs. Chambers in a stall grooming Pepsi.
“Mom,” Skye said, rushing to her foster mother’s side, “Look what Millie gave me.”
Mrs. Chambers poked back her Stetson and wiped her brow. “What do you have there, honey?”
Skye waved the letters in front of Mrs. Chambers. “She gave me real old letters that have some kind of inmate code on them for my dad and Charlie. She said if I write to them, they might write back. That is, if they’re still in prison.”
Mrs. Chambers took the envelopes from Skye and examined both sides. “My, that seems like a very good lead, Skye,” she said. “But what if they’re not there anymore?”
“Millie said that if the prison knows where the released inmates live, it will forward the mail to their new address. I want to write to them the first chance I get. But I’m not sure what to say. Will you help me?”
“Sure, the first chance we get.” Mrs. Chambers handed the letters back to Skye. “Right now we’ve got to bed down these horses, and by then it will be suppertime.”
“Mom,” Skye said, “can we pray about this? If God’s in this, then it will happen, don’t you think?”
“I agree,” Mrs. Chambers said. “And now would be a perfect time to pray about the whole matter.”
As soon as Skye had finished her responsibilities on Monday evening, she and Mrs. Chambers made a beeline to the family’s cabin and attacked the laptop and printer. Mrs. Chambers helped set up at a small table and then decided to crash on her bunk and read a book. Skye prepared to type two letters that she had been “Skye writing” in her brain all day long, and she decided to send her dad one of her school pictures that Mrs. Chambers always carried in her wallet. With Mr. Chambers and Morgan at the barn polishing tack, Skye had some private time with Mrs. Chambers.
Before Skye started to type, she leaned back in the chair and faced Mrs. Chambers. “Mom, I need to know how you feel about all this. Are you okay with it?”
Mrs. Chambers smiled, and her eyes seemed to penetrate into the depths of Skye’s soul and read her very thoughts. She reached toward Skye and patted her hand. “Honey, right up front we want you to know that your dad and I love you very much, as though you were our own daughter, and we only want the best for you. I know that you’ve always needed to know something about your parents so you could come to grips with your past. We have absolutely no problem with your finding your roots. In fact, we’ve been praying about this moment since we took you in.”
Skye stared deep into her foster mother’s eyes, finding complete honesty that she knew was always there. “I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you and Dad,” Skye said. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Mrs. Chambers’ eyes filled with tears as she gave Skye another warm smile. “Skye, I don’t want you to even think that way. You will not hurt us. We’re very glad that God has opened this door for you. Your dad and I have discussed this numerous times, and—well—the possibility of your finding your parents is one reason we’ve been dragging our feet concerning adopting you. By all means we want to do that, but if your parents are in the picture, you might feel differently.”
“I’ll never feel different,” Skye said. “I want to stay with you guys forever.”
“That’s a decision that only you can make,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Over the years, we’ve worked with a lot of kids who had different ideas about their parents. Let’s take Morgan, for example. She really doesn’t want to stay in touch with her mother—or father. And you know she’s told us those rare visits with her mother just bring up all those feelings of being abandoned. Maybe when she’s older, she’ll try to renew her relationship with them, but for now she’s satisfied just living with us.”
“I’m not so sure about that lately,” Skye said.
“What do you mean?”
“I think she’s been acting kinda strange about this whole business with my parents. Maybe she’s thinking more about her own mom and dad these days.”
“I did detect a little distance in her lately. She knows she can call her mother anytime she wants. We’ve encouraged her to do that.”
“Well, at least she knows where her mom is,” Skye said. “That’s a big plus.”
“Yes, and I believe that does make a difference,” Mrs. Chambers said.
“Well, I’d sure like to know where my real mother is,” Skye said, turning back to the computer.
“And, Skye,” Mrs. Chambers said, “about these letters you’re going to write. Just let the Lord take charge. We’ll trust in him and see what happens.”
“Mom,” Skye said, “can I read the letters to you and then you can tell me how they sound?”
“Sure,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Let me know when they’re done.”
After thirty minutes of typing and retyping, Skye asked her foster mother to join her at the table.
“Let’s see these wonderful masterpieces,” Mrs. Chambers said, smiling. Skye let her sit in front of the computer to read:
Dear Jacy,
I am your daughter, Skye Nicholson. I am thirteen years old and in the seventh grade. I’ve always wanted to know where you and Mom are. Just lately, I was given this address.
I live with two nice foster parents, Tom and Eileen Chambers, at Keystone Stables in central PA, a special-needs ranch and foster home. I have one foster sister, Morgan Hendricks. But right now we are near Charleston, SC, volunteering our time at another special-needs ranch. We brought four horses with us, and we are teaching the campers how to ride. My horse is a sorrel Quarter Horse. His name is Champ, and he’s the most beautiful animal in the whole wide world.
I really want to get to know you. Please write me using the address on the envelope. We’ll be here for twelve more days.
Your daughter Skye
Dear Mr. Hamlock,
I am Skye Nicholson, Jacy Nicholson’s daughter and the niece of Millie Eister. She had written you letters for a while about ten years ago.
I am thirteen years old and am in foster care. I’ve always wanted to know where my parents are. Just lately, I found out that my father might be in the Brentwood prison. I have written him a letter and hope that he will write me back.
If my father is not there, Millie said you might be the only person who can help me find him. I really want to get to know him. I’m also searching for my mother.
If you know anything about either of them, will you please write and tell me what you know? I would be very grateful.
Millie told me that she is going to write to you too. I hope you write back. She’s a nice lady.
Yours truly,
Skye Nicholson
From the time Skye mailed those important letters, she started to get up fifteen minutes earlier so she had time to check the Chambers’ mailbox at the office for a letter from her dad or Charlie Hamlock.
On Thursday, Skye held an envelope addressed to Jacy Nicholson with the words RETURN TO SENDER stamped on the front, and her heart dropped like a rock to the bottom of her feet.
“Another stone wall,” Skye said to Morgan back at the cabin. Mr. and Mrs. Chambers had already left for breakfast. Morgan was sitting at the cabin window, just staring. She didn’t answer Skye.
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