“That must have been awful.”
“It was. I kinda understood about Mom and how hard everything was for her, but I still felt abandoned.” She sniffed back a tear. “I mean, I can’t even begin to tell you how bad it hurt. You hear people talk about broken hearts, but it felt just like that, you know? Like a knife in my chest.”
“Why didn’t you live with your aunt?”
“Aunt Martha?” Morgan sneered. “If you knew gorgeous blonde Aunt Martha, you wouldn’t even ask. She’s never been married and has a big fancy job as a hotshot publicist with the Coilco Oil Company. She travels all the time. She could hardly handle the times we hung out at her place for a few hours while Mom worked. There’s no way she’d get pinned down with someone like me.”
“What’s your dad like?” Skye asked.
“The last time I saw him he was built a lot like Mr. C. Dad had always shaved his head because he was losing his hair, and he said he hated his receding hairline. He was never around much when he lived at home with Mom and us kids. He was either working two jobs or hanging out at the bowling alley or golf club.”
“Does he have red hair?”
“No, his hair was brown—when he had some. He said my red hair came from one of the grandparents, but I’m not sure which one. Skye, the more I think about my parents, the more I miss them.” Once again, Morgan’s eyes grew red and moist.
“Remember what Dad—ah, Dad Chambers—said the other night in devotions about God being in all of this?”
“Yep.”
“And remember that God knows how you feel, and he’s going to help you.”
“Sure, I know that,” Morgan said. “I’ve asked him to forgive me, and I really do want to touch base with my folks again. I really do.”
“Don’t you think God knows that?” Skye bobbed on Champ’s back as he stomped away a fly. “As long as we do what’s right, God will do the rest.”
“I guess so,” Morgan said, brushing a fly off Blaze’s neck. “I’d really like to connect with my parents again, and God knows that.”
“Then why don’t you start tonight?” Skye asked. “Let’s go back to the house and you can give your mom a call. What are you waiting for?”
“You’re right, Skye,” Morgan said. “I’ll do it tonight.”
Chapter thirteen
The number you have dialed is no longer in service…
Saturday night Morgan came up dry trying to reach her mother, and every time she tried to call her aunt, she got another recorded message asking the caller to leave a phone number. “Maybe Aunt Martha’s on one of her cruises again,” she said to Skye. “I guess I’ll have to play the waiting game.”
But the story was different for Skye. On Monday evening at nine o’clock sharp, Skye, with jittery hands, punched in her mother’s cell phone number. Mr. and Mrs. Chambers and Morgan sat at the dining room table giving Skye moral support.
“Hello.” A woman’s gruff voice on the phone spoke with an air of suspicion.
“Is-is this Rita?” Skye’s nerves had already gotten the best of her.
“Who’s this?” the voice asked.
“Th-this is Skye Nicholson, and I’d like to speak to Rita, please.” Skye’s voice squeaked.
“Skye? Is this my baby Skye?” Without another word, the woman started weeping uncontrollably. “Sk-Skye—” she tried to speak, but nothing came out but sobs.
Skye found herself in a stranglehold of emotion matching that of her long-lost mother. Just as when Skye met her father, her often-suppressed feelings came bursting through. Her face turned red hot and her eyes burned with a sudden flood of tears that trickled down her face. “R—Rita, ma’am, are—are you okay?” Skye riveted on Mrs. Chambers, whose eyes were also red as she gave a smile and a reassuring nod.
Mr. Chambers reached to the counter, grabbed a tissue and handed it to Skye. Morgan focused on Skye with genuine interest.
“Thanks,” Skye whispered to Mr. Chambers and dabbed her eyes. “Rita?” she said into the phone.
“Yes, Skye baby,” the woman said. “I’m here. I’m so glad you called. Your father’s not with you, is he?”
“No, ma’am,” Skye answered. “He’s in Gatlinburg. I’m in Pennsylvania with my foster parents and foster sister.”
Skye heard her mother sniffle and blow her nose before she spoke again. “I told Millie I don’t want him to know where I am. I hope she told you that.”
“She did, but he’s different now. He wants to talk to you and tell you he’s not after you anymore. He’s married to a nice lady, and he has a whole new life.”
“Well, that’s nifty for him, but he doesn’t need to talk to me. Let’s just let it go at that,” Rita said. “So you’re at your foster home right now?”
“Yes, I am,” Skye said. “Where do you live?”
“I’d rather not say at the moment. But I will tell you that I’m in Pennsylvania. And you said you’re in Pennsylvania? So that means we’re close enough that we could meet?”
“Yes,” Skye said. “I’d really like to.”
“I hope so,” Rita said. “And I do want to see you as soon as possible. I’ve agonized all these years wondering where you were, and—” Again, Rita began to weep.
Skye held the phone away from her mouth and whispered to Mr. and Mrs. Chambers. “She lives somewhere in Pennsylvania and she wants to see me ASAP. What should I tell her?”
Mrs. Chambers whispered back, “You two make plans, and we’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“R-Rita,” Skye said, “I can meet you anytime you want. Do you want to come here?”
“I—I’d rather not,” Rita said, regaining her composure. “I’d like to meet in some neutral place. Maybe we can have a picnic at a park or something.”
“Will anyone be with you?” Skye asked. “I mean, do you have a family?”
“I’ll be coming alone,” Rita sniffled. “I have—well—I’ll be coming alone.”
Wow, she really doesn’t trust anyone, Skye figured. “I’ll be coming with my foster family, but if you want to see me by myself, they can sit in the truck or go to a picnic table nearby.” Skye glanced at Mrs. Chambers who nodded and smiled.
“No, that’s all right, Skye,” Rita said. “I’d like to meet the family you live with now. Really.”
Skye whispered to the Chambers, “She wants to meet all of us at a park somewhere for a picnic.”
Mr. Chambers nodded and gave Skye a thumbs-up.
“That’ll be fine with us,” Skye said.
Rita paused then said, “Skye, do you know where Matunga State Park is? It’s on route 83, about halfway between Harrisburg and the Maryland border.”
“Yes,” Skye said. “That’s one of my favorite places in the whole wide world. We’ve camped there and have walked the falls and everything.”
“Well,” Rita said, “are you able to meet me there this Saturday? I don’t have to work.”
“She wants to meet us at the Matunga State Park this Saturday,” Skye whispered, and everyone nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. We can be there,” Skye told Rita. “Where should we meet you—and what time?”
“Can you meet me at the picnic tables by the bridge near the falls at eleven?” Rita asked.
“Yes,” Skye said.
Mr. Chambers gave Skye another nod and a smile.
“I’ll wear a bright red shirt so you can’t miss me. How does that all sound?”
“I’ll wear a red top too,” Skye said.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Rita said. “There’s no way I’m going to miss you on Saturday. I’ve been missing you all these years, and it’s finally going to end. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Skye beamed a radiant smile. “We’ll be there at eleven sharp.”
Right after her phone conversation with Rita, Skye searched through her dresser and closet and decided that her cherry red T-shirt would probably be red enough to wear. But when modeling it fo
r Mrs. Chambers and Morgan, Skye kidded that she still needed neon strips and a string of glowing lights sewn on the shirt to make sure her mother would see her.
“I have no doubt your mother will see you,” Morgan said. “No doubt at all.”
The week dragged on so slowly, Skye began to think she was in some kind of science fiction nightmare where time-warp aliens tortured the earthling teens by morphing every second into an hour. All week long, Skye kept gawking at her watch, hoping with her whole heart that it would suddenly become Saturday at 11 a.m.
Finally, Saturday morning did arrive in a hot and humid package, and at 11:03 am the Chambers family pulled into the parking lot adjoining the picnic pavilions at the Matunga State Park.
“Wow,” Skye said, “look how full it is!”
“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Chambers said. “School starts in a few weeks, so everyone’s trying to get their last-minute summer fun in.”
Her chest booming, Skye rolled down the cab window, stretched her neck, and scanned the row of picnic tables along the road. As Mr. Chambers parked the truck in one of the few open stalls, Skye’s glance darted wildly, examining every pavilion and table for the color red. Mrs. Chambers and Morgan were doing the same. Skye spotted several red shirts, but children claimed them all.
“I hope she’s already here,” Morgan said. “As jam packed as this place is, I bet there aren’t any tables left.”
“We might have to eat lunch in the truck,” Mr. Chambers said to his wife. “But your ham salad sandwiches would even taste good in the barn! It doesn’t matter to me where we eat them.”
Skye had no interest in food whatsoever. “Can we get out and look?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Tom, try to find an empty—”
“Over there!” Skye yelled. “Look! At the table next to the wooden bridge! I see a plump lady in a red shirt and blue jeans. It looks like she has long, dark hair, and she has it pulled up into some kind of twisted knob. She’s sitting at a table by herself, and her back’s to us. I bet she’s doing that because she’s still running scared.”
“I see her,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You might be right, Skye. She probably doesn’t want to be facing all these people.”
“That must be her!” Skye opened the door and jumped out. “Let’s go!”
“Just hang on a minute,” Mrs. Chambers said, getting out of the car. “We’ll all go together. Wait until Tom gets Morgan into her chair.”
Skye did double time raking her hands through her hair and chewing her lip. “Okay, okay, what can I do to get us there faster?”
“Nothing, Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’ll leave the cooler in the back of the truck until later.” Mr. Chambers hopped out of the truck and retrieved Morgan’s wheelchair from the back of the cab. “If that woman isn’t your mother, we’ll grab the nearest vacant table.” He set the chair firmly on the macadam pathway and placed Morgan in it.
“Thanks, Mr. C.,” Morgan said then she glanced at Skye and giggled. “Why, Sis, your face is as red as that shirt. You’re not too excited, are you?”
Focused on the stranger, Skye had completely tuned out the last few seconds of conversation. She turned, reached behind the cab, and lifted the cooler out of the flatbed.
“Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’re not taking that with us now. You have enough on your mind.”
Skye turned and started hurrying toward the bridge. “Let’s go,” she said again. Glancing back, she gestured for her family to hurry. “C’mon.”
Mrs. Chambers started pushing Morgan toward the bridge and chuckled. “Something tells me Skye wants us to follow her.”
“Let’s go, Mr. and Mrs. C.,” Morgan said. “That girl is going absolutely bonkers.”
Skye had trouble keeping her legs from running full speed ahead toward the bridge. She glanced back, reassuring herself that the rest of her family was following as best as they could. But just several yards from her goal, Skye came to an abrupt stop. Huffing, she studied the woman’s hair, trying its best to beat the humidity and stay in its disheveled knob. Skye’s glance drifted to the woman’s broad back, blotches of perspiration soaking through the bright red shirt. I don’t want to scare her, she reasoned as she wiped beads of sweat from her own forehead. Again, she glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Chambers and Morgan and waited as they came by her side.
“Go ahead,” Mrs. Chambers said, smiling.
Skye turned and, again, studied the woman who sat facing the other way, waiting. What if it isn’t my mother? Skye thought. This could all be a big mistake.
Finally, Skye took a deep jagged breath and spoke her mother’s real name. “Rita?”
The woman stood, and with tears streaming down her fiery red face, looked in Skye’s direction.
While Skye stared at the stranger, the woman’s expression suddenly melded into shock and disbelief, and her face turned pale as a whitewashed fence.
“R-Rita?” Skye asked. “Are you my mother?”
Then Skye heard Morgan shrieking beside her. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
“Mom? Where’s your mom?” Skye spun toward Morgan; then quickly surveyed the grounds for another woman, but there was no one.
“Mrs. Hendricks?” Skye heard Mrs. Chamber’s voice as if it were coming from far away. “You’re Rita?”
“What’s going on?” Skye demanded of the stranger. “Are you my mother?”
Chapter fourteen
Skye glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Chambers standing with their faces locked in complete confusion. Skye stared at Rita who could do nothing but return an astonished look.
“She’s my mother, Nancy Hendricks!” Morgan exclaimed. “But—how—this can’t be for real. How can you be Skye’s mother when you’re my mother?”
Skye felt like she had been wrapped in duct tape with only her lungs and brain able to function, and they were barreling full speed ahead. Finally, she managed to speak as she focused on Rita. “Now wait. You’re my mother…and you’re Morgan’s mother too? Is that what I’m hearing? You’ve got to be kidding!” Skye glanced at Morgan, whose face was still draped in disbelief, and then she shifted back to Rita who just sat and stared.
Mr. Chambers made his way to the picnic table. “Folks, it seems as though we have one of the world’s greatest mysteries right before our very eyes.” He released a nervous smile as he lifted his Stetson, scratched his head, and carefully squared his hat. “Let’s try to relax and sort this all out.”
Skye positioned Morgan in her wheelchair next to a corner of the table, but couldn’t find one word to say.
“Well, this is certainly one for the books.” Mrs. Chambers shook the woman’s hand and spoke with a quivering voice. “It’s good to see you again, Nancy. Should I assume correctly that you are also Rita, Skye’s mother?”
Prodded by Mrs. Chambers, Rita shook her hand and then flopped back onto the bench. As her gaze darted from Skye to Morgan and back, she nervously chewed her lip. “I—I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to begin. This is unbelievable. The last time I visited Keystone Stables, I didn’t see Skye there.”
“She wasn’t with us then,” Mr. Chambers said. “She came several months later.”
“Morgan never mentioned Skye in any of her phone calls,” Rita said.
“You mean all two of them?” Morgan’s voice portrayed total embarrassment.
Rita dabbed her eyes and blew her nose in a tissue. “And last Monday evening when I talked with Skye, I never asked her anything about her foster parents. So I had no way of knowing.”
Skye was still unable to move.
“Skye,” Mrs. Chambers said, “earth to Skye.” She hurried to Skye’s side, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, honey. We’ll get this all sorted out.”
Following her lead, Skye approached the table. As she did, Rita rushed toward Skye and drew her into a warm embrace. “Skye,” the woman wept uncontrollably, “I’m so sorry about everything.”
Slowly Skye wr
apped her arms around the chubby woman’s frame and rested her head on Rita’s chest drenched with perspiration. Despite the confusion running through her mind, Skye felt strangely complete as she finally connected with the woman who had given her life. At last, Skye felt that she was home.
With deep sobs, Rita tried to speak as she hugged Skye tightly. Moving her to arm’s length, she moaned, “My baby Skye.”
After another long tearful embrace, Rita turned toward Morgan. “Morgan,” she said, “I really don’t know where to begin telling you how sorry I am about—everything.” She bent down and gave Morgan an enormous hug. “I really am very glad to see you. How have you been?
Suddenly, tough girl Skye found herself sniffling back a barrage of tears as she focused on Morgan, whose eyes were also red and moist.
“Well, Mother,” Morgan cried, “I’d be lying if I told you I’ve been fine.”
Rita backed away and studied Morgan intently. “What do you mean? Are you sick or something? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing like that,” Morgan said, wiping tears from her face. “I’ve just been missing you lately, that’s all.”
“I know I haven’t acted like it, but you’ve never been out of my thoughts.” Rita gave Morgan another hug and stepped back to the table. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.” The woman dabbed her face, red and blotchy from the sweat and tears.
Skye quickly brushed away her own tears and forced out a smile. “Start at the beginning,” she said.
“Yes, we have all day,” Mr. Chambers said, sitting on the bench.
Mrs. Chambers sat on the opposite side of the table from Rita and gestured to Skye. “C’mon, honey, sit down and get comfortable.”
Skye joined Mrs. Chambers at the table, folded her hands to stop them from quivering, and riveted her attention on her real mother.
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