“I’m sure Rita—ah—Nancy—ah—” Mrs. Chambers paused. “What would you like us to call you?”
For a moment, Rita stared into space. “Skye can decide what she’d like to call me. If she likes ‘Mom’ or ‘Mother,’ that’s fine with me.”
“And I’ll just keep calling you Mom,” Morgan said with a slight chuckle. “Why change now?”
“The other day I told Millie on the phone that everyone should call me Rita, but with this latest development, I think it would be best if you call me Nancy. That’s been my name for the last eleven years, so let’s just stay with that and forget Rita.”
“Fine,” Mr. Chambers said.
“Nancy,” Mrs. Chambers said, “why don’t you start by telling us what happened after Jacy went to prison.”
Nancy took a deep jagged breath and began. “When Jacy threatened to kill me, the police helped me change my identity. That’s when I left Skye with Millie. Giving up Skye was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” With her bottom lip quivering, Nancy glanced at Skye and released another barrage of tears. “Within a year I moved back to the Scranton area with my new name, Nancy McMillan, and a new hair color.” She tugged at a few strands of straggly hair dangling in front of her ear.
Skye studied her brand-new mother and started comparing the woman’s looks to her own. Our eyes are the same, and so is our hair, that is, if that’s her natural color.
“Skye,” Nancy said, “I’m not dyeing my hair anymore. Our hair color’s the same.”
“And our eyes,” Skye said with a tearful smile.
Nancy continued, “After working at a bookstore in Scranton for a few months, I met Mike Hendricks, a book distributor. His wife had just died of kidney failure, and he was caring for his four-year-old daughter by himself.” Nancy looked in Morgan’s direction and smiled. Then she slipped off the bench and knelt beside Morgan, embracing her hands. “Morgan, I’m so sorry, but I have another bombshell for you. You were that little girl. You’re Mike’s daughter, not mine. You were too little at that time to know that. When Mike and I got married, I was thrilled that I could take care of you because I was still grieving over giving up Skye. Please forgive me for not telling you before. Please!” Nancy sobbed.
“You mean you’re just my stepmother?” Morgan gasped as her eyes grew big and her eyebrows peaked.
“Morgan, I loved you as my own daughter,” Nancy said. “And then when the other three kids came along, it never seemed that important anymore to tell you. You all got along so well.”
“So my real mother died?” Morgan’s look of disbelief deepened.
“Yes,” Nancy wailed, wiping her cheeks. “And I’m begging you to forgive me for not telling you before. Oh, everything is such a mess.”
“Wow!” Morgan cried as she wiped her face of a flood of tears as well. “This is a biggie. And I thought it was Skye’s big day! It’s going to take a while for all of this to sink in.”
“It’s going to take a while for all of us to process this.” With tear-filled eyes, Mrs. Chambers grasped Skye’s hand. “But I believe God has allowed all of this to happen for a purpose. It seems that the truth needs to come out—and now. I believe the girls want to try to accept anything you have to tell them, Nancy.”
“I am.” Morgan stared deep into her stepmother’s eyes. “But I’m not sure if knowing the truth about my real mother when I was younger would have made any difference with the way I feel now. I love you as my real mother. My problem is that I haven’t shown it lately.”
Nancy gave Morgan a reassuring smile and said, “I know you were terribly hurt when I had to put you into foster care. It hurt me deeply, too. That was also one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. In fact, I had to live over that same hurt that I suffered when I had to give Skye to Millie. That’s why I haven’t called or visited more. It seems like I’ve gained a reputation for giving kids away. That’s not at all the way I planned my life to be.”
“Nancy, we don’t hold that against you, and neither does God.” By now, Mr. Chambers had also joined the tear fest. “Sometimes life dishes out some awfully painful experiences. But as Eileen said before, God has it all worked out for everyone’s best interest.”
“I sure hope so,” Nancy said, sniffling.
“Morgan has told me a lot about her brother and two sisters,” Skye said. “So that means they’re mine, too.”
“Well, they’d be your half siblings,” Nancy said. She slipped back onto the bench. “There’s Stevie, and he’s nine. Then there’s Tasha, who’s seven, and Richelle, who’s just five. Today they’re with my husband’s sister, Martha. I brought a whole bunch of pictures with me, if you’d like to see them later.” Nancy smiled at Morgan. “Have you told them about Aunt Martha?”
“Yeah,” Morgan said, dabbing at her eyes, “and I’m surprised she’s not fluttering around Europe or someplace like that right now.”
“It’s one of her rare times at home,” Nancy said. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring the other kids. I didn’t know how you’d feel about them, Skye. If I would have only known.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Mrs. Chambers said. “We’ll meet them in good time.”
Skye glanced at Morgan and released a super smile. “I’m sure if those kids are anything like my best friend, they’re cool. I can’t wait to meet them.”
“It’s still hard to believe that you’re not my real mother,” Morgan said, “and as far as I’m concerned, it really doesn’t matter. Honest it doesn’t. But the more I think about things you did in the past, the more they make sense now. So how are the little rascals? Lately I’ve really been missing them.”
“They’re all doing pretty good,” Nancy said. “It’s tough trying to raise them and keep a full-time job. Your father hadn’t sent any child support for years, but just over the last few months, he’s started sending some checks. That money helps a lot.”
“So you know where he is?” Morgan asked.
“Yes,” Nancy said. “He’s still in California.”
“I’d like to write to him,” Morgan said. “I’d love if he could tell me about my real mother. Can I have his address?”
“Sure thing,” Nancy said. “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. I think he’s mellowed a bit as he’s grown older. He often asks how you are.”
“Nancy—” Skye started and then said, “Mother…do you mind if I call you that?”
“I’d love if you would,” Nancy said.
“That way I can keep you and Mom Chambers straight.” She glanced at Mrs. Chambers, who gave her that same reassuring smile, and then looked at her real mom again. “Mother, I met Father several months ago and we keep in touch all the time now. You don’t need to hide from him anymore. He became a Christian, and he’s told me again and again that the car accident was all his fault. He’s not out to get you, and he just wishes you the best. He wants me to try to convince you of that.”
“I’ve been watching my back all these years,” Nancy said, “and it’s kinda hard believing someone can change just like that.”
“So that’s why you were always dyeing your hair different colors and asking Dad to move all the time,” Morgan said. “Now this is all starting to make sense. I always wondered why you seemed scared of something and not totally happy.”
“Yes,” Nancy said, staring at the table. “We’ve moved more times than I care to count. But the last few years I’ve stayed in the Philly area within close reach of Martha.”
Mr. Chambers finished his water and set the bottle on the table. “Nancy, we’ve all met Jacy, and he really is sincere. He has a lovely place in Gatlinburg, and he’s married a wonderful Christian woman. Both are involved in a local church. Christ has changed his life. The only reason he wants to see you again is to ask you to forgive him.”
“Mother,” Skye pleaded with Nancy. “Won’t you please meet with him? For me?”
“I’ll think on it,” Nancy said unconvincingly. “That’s all I can do
right now. I’ll think on it.”
During a ham salad picnic that extended well into the afternoon, the Chambers’ family and Nancy shared their lives. Skye looked at dozens of pictures of Nancy’s three other children and Morgan in her younger days. In return, Skye told her mother everything she could remember about her last eleven years, including the bad foster homes as well as the good ones. Morgan, having come to grips with the fact that Nancy was her stepmother, joined in wholeheartedly. When Millie’s name came up, the girls recounted their trip down south, how they met Millie, and the plans that Millie had made to come to Pennsylvania over the Labor Day weekend.
“Mother,” Skye said, “why don’t you and the kids come to Keystone Stables the same weekend?”
“Yeah,” Morgan added. “We have enough bedrooms for all of you, don’t we, Mrs. C.?”
“Sure,” Mrs. Chambers said. “We have lots of room.”
“Oh, I’d love to see Millie and the kids again. I plan to keep in touch with her on the phone, but my heart yearns to see her. And I’d love to spend some time with both you girls.”
“At Keystone, we have a picnic grove, and a campsite, and six horses and everything,” Skye said. “The kids will have a blast. Dad, we could have a cookout at Piney Hollow, couldn’t we?”
“We sure can,” Mr. Chambers said, “that is, if it’s not raining.”
“What’s Piney Hollow?” Nancy asked.
Morgan’s freckled face lit up with her signature smile. “It’s a campground with a chuck wagon in the back section of Keystone Stables. The kids will love it. We can have roast hot dogs and marshmallows and have a scavenger hunt.”
“Well, that sounds wonderful,” Nancy said. “I can take a four-day weekend. The factory usually gives us a holiday on Labor Day anyway. I’ll take Friday off, too, and we’ll drive to Keystone Stables then. How does that sound?”
“Super!” Skye said then asked Morgan, “What do you think, Sis?” Skye glanced to her side and stared at Morgan in a whole new light. Wow! She really is my sister, three times over: stepsister, foster sister, and sister in Christ.
“Double super!” Morgan said. “I can’t wait.”
In the late afternoon, Skye waved goodbye to Nancy one last time and settled into her seat in the back of the truck.
As they pulled away from the picnic grove, Mrs. Chambers looked in the rearview mirror. “Skye, I noticed that you didn’t tell your mother that Jacy and Ruth are planning to visit us then, too. Have they changed their minds?”
Mr. Chambers looked in the rear view mirror at Skye. “I was wondering about that, too, Skye. What’s the story?”
“Yeah.” Morgan poked Skye in her arm. “What gives?”
Skye blew out a long sigh. “Oh, they’re still coming, and—well—I have a plan.”
“A plan?” Morgan asked. “Look out, world! When Skye Nicholson has a plan, things usually start happening—and fast.”
“What’s the plan, Skye?” Mrs. Chambers asked.
“I figured that Mother would want to head for Alaska if she knew Father was coming to Pennsylvania, so I didn’t want to tell her yet. I’m thinking that as I call her a few times a week all summer long and get to know her better, she’ll accept what I’ve told her about him. Then, a few days before the Labor Day weekend, I’ll tell her he’s coming, too.”
“I see,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You’re taking a big risk, Skye.”
“And, Skye,” Mr. Chambers said, “even if your mother does agree to see him, I have a feeling that she won’t stay under the same roof overnight, even though our house is plenty big.”
“I’ve thought about that, too,” Skye said. “Since Moyers’ Bed and Breakfast is right down the road, I’ll ask Father if he and Ruth would mind staying there.”
“Hmm,” Mr. Chambers said. “Now think this through, Skye. If your scheme doesn’t pan out, and your mother feels that you aren’t being totally honest with her, she might get very angry. The whole situation could blow up in your face and damage the relationship you just started.”
“But if she just gives Father a chance, and she sees how he’s changed, she’ll be glad that she was able to see him again,” Skye said.
“I’m with you,” Morgan said. “From what I remember, Mom’s always been scared of her own shadow, and she got much worse after my dad left and she was on her own. I think it’s a great idea to try to have Jacy and her connect. She’d finally stop watching her back all the time.”
“Are you going to tell your father about your scheme?” Mr. Chambers asked Skye.
“Oh, yes,” Skye said. “I think he’ll go for it. He told me he’s willing to do anything to talk with Mother and get things right. I’m sure he’ll still want to come.”
“So, how are you going to plan their meeting?” Mrs. Chambers asked.
“Well,” Skye answered, “if Mother and the kids come on Friday, we could have a picnic at the gazebo on Saturday afternoon. I’ll ask Father if he could arrive around noon then. That way we’d all be together, including Millie and her kids, when Father and Ruth get there. We can all give Mother moral support. I also thought it would be nice to have Chad come to the picnic, too.”
“Skye, you are one riot.” Morgan giggled. “What does Chad have to do with your parents and their reunion?”
“Well—“
Mrs. Chambers winked at Morgan then turned to Skye. “Of course we need Chad there. How else will we know how many burgers to grill? Right, Skye?”
Mr. Chambers joined in the fun. “Morgan, it’s common knowledge that Skye can’t do a thing without Chad’s approval. Everybody knows he’s her activities director.”
“Aw, Dad.” Skye’s red-hot cheeks were not from a sunburn.
“Putting all jokes aside,” Mr. Chambers said, “Skye, if you think this plan will work, then go for it, but we all need to put a lot of prayer behind it. I know you desperately want peace in your family, even though your parents aren’t together anymore.”
“Having Mother know that Father’s a decent man means a whole lot to me,” Skye said. “I want to drift off to sleep every night not having to worry about them anymore.”
“I feel the same way about the whole situation, too,” Morgan said.
“Then let’s go for it!” Skye said.
Chapter fifteen
Happy trails to you, until we meet again…”
Under a rippling pink sunset as soft as angels’ wings, Skye’s and Morgan’s “two families” sat around a campfire on Friday evening of the Labor Day weekend. After Mr. Chambers’ hot dog and baked potato supper, everyone joined in a round of western songs and silly choruses while they roasted marshmallows. With September’s crisp evening air inviting jackets, the crackling fire added the final touch to a chuck wagon cookout nestled in the shadows of the three Piney Hollow hills.
Skye’s excitement level shot up, and she could focus on nothing but getting to know her family better. She glanced at her mother and smiled, receiving an apprehensive smile in return. After some fancy convincing on Skye’s part, her mother had agreed to see Jacy the next day. But now a discreet look of worry on Nancy’s face overshadowed all the fun. Lord, Skye prayed, help her to know tomorrow will all work out.
Skye found herself so consumed with her thoughts, she forgot about three marshmallows on her stick and sent the black gooey globs oozing to their doom into the dancing flames. Private Dennis Eister, United States Marine Corps, sitting with his mother on the other side of the circle, came to the rescue.
“Skye, give me your stick,” he said, standing and reaching toward Skye. “At the rate you’re going, we’ll be out of marshmallows in five minutes! I’ll do some for you. How do you like them?”
“Burnt to a crisp,” Skye said.
Dennis gave Skye a snappy salute “At your service, ma’am.” He grabbed three marshmallows from the bag on the table, stuck them on Skye’s stick, and went to work.
While Dennis gave his “mallow duty” everything he had, Skye gaz
ed at the handsome blue-eyed young man in USMC T-shirt and black shorts. His muscles bulged like a pro wrestler’s, his blond hair was shaved “high and tight,” and his frame bore a bronze tan, a telltale sign of the summer he had just spent training in the southern heat. Morgan was right, Skye thought. He is one handsome dude.
Skye’s gaze swept the circle and studied her new family, each face glowing with the warmth of the bed of hot embers. Deep down in Skye’s heart, another warmth burned, one that matched the blazing flames. Now when Chad and Father come tomorrow, she mused, the scene will be totally complete.
Skye focused on her mother, trying her best to have a good time, who was busy mastering the marshmallow-roasting technique. She let out a round of chuckles as she pushed several rebel strands of hair behind her ear, touched a brown lump on the end of her stick, and then yanked her hand away. “Girls, I’m about ready to hire Dennis myself. If this gooey mess wasn’t so good, I’d give it up and go drink coffee.”
“Aw, Mom,” Morgan giggled, “part of the fun is seeing who can keep the little white puffs on their sticks long enough to toast them just right and then rescue them before they slide off into the fire. I’ve only lost one so far.”
Skye glanced at Morgan, to her mother’s left. With her beaming freckled smile, Morgan was showing Richelle how to hold the stick. The little girl, a miniature version of her mother, left no room to doubt whose daughter she was. And she looks just like me with Aunt Millie in that ancient picture, Skye thought. How cool is that?
Next to Morgan sat tomboy Tasha, tall and lanky with glasses, blonde hair drawn back into a ponytail, having the time of her life wrestling with her food and yelling at her “all boy” brother, Stevie. With a barrage of giggles, he poked Tasha with one hand and poked his stick at the embers with the other, sending crackling sparks twirling into the air. “He looks just like my dad,” Morgan had told Skye, “only he has enough hair to part, and his belly’s not quite there yet.”
On the other side of the campfire sat Aunt Millie, whom Skye had grown to love and admire. Skye knew Millie sometimes had two or three part-time jobs to make ends meet. Because Millie had instilled a dogged work ethic in her two kids, Dennis had a bright career ahead of him in the Marines, and Emma was heading for college in another year. All they need is Jesus, Skye thought, and they’ll make it big time.
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