“Ah, here’s a good spot.” Stella gestured. “See how flat it is, and the waves kind of creep in? Want to take off your shoes?”
The wind whipped Maryanne’s hair in her face as she bent and slipped off her jogging shoes. The sand was cool and slightly damp.
Stella opened the mesh bag and took out two shovels. “Let’s start digging. I want you to dig big holes and I’ll work on the trenches.”
“Okay.”
I bet she thinks I’m some sort of rehabilitation project. Wonder if that’s what they learn in Bible college, how to take kids camping. But I do appreciate her. It isn’t as if anyone else cared about me.
Maryanne dug a hole about six inches deep. “Is this big enough?”
Stella handed her a bucket. “No, I want a huge hole closer to the tide as it rolls in, at least as deep as the bucket.”
“Wait, but you’re digging those tiny little trenches, what gives?”
“My shovels, my rules.” Stella laughed. “What’s the matter, you tired?”
“No, not at all.” Maryanne pushed the shovel in with more force through the packed sand and threw the excess into the sea. Stella’s trenches were barely three inches deep. She connected them to Maryanne’s big holes, four in all.
The sun burned hotter and Maryanne dabbed sunscreen on her nose. “We have four corners and trenches. I don’t see any towers.”
Stella wiggled her toes near one of the trenches. “We don’t need it for this illustration. Let’s sit and watch the tide come in.”
“What? No towers? And you’re just going to let the water wash in?”
Stella gestured to Maryanne with her cell phone. “Stand there and I’ll take a picture.”
“Sure, okay, I feel like I’m in that story book Holes, the one where the boys had to dig holes for punishment.”
Stella snapped a picture. “This isn’t a punishment. See the waves? They’re creeping into the holes.”
“Yes, so it looks like I wasted all the time digging them.”
“Let’s walk around, and come back.” Stella led her to the water’s edge.
The water lapped up their feet and left bits of seaweed clinging to Maryanne’s ankles. “Why did you bring me here?”
Stella put her arm around Maryanne’s shoulder and turned her around. “Look at our footsteps. What do you see?”
“They’re getting washed away.”
“Right, it’s as if we never passed this way. As if the bad things we’ve done had never happened.”
Maryanne stepped back over their tracks. “They’re fading.”
Stella dug her toes into the wet sand. “See how sharp they are when I press down? It’s like the hurt and pain we cause. Fresh. Let’s look at the holes.”
They walked back. Stella’s small trenches were almost completely obscured. Tiny indentations showed where they had been. Maryanne’s holes were filled with seawater, but the edges were blurry. Stella stood in front of her and shielded her from the sun. “These holes are our sins. And the waves are God’s love, washing away our sins.”
The waves rolled in, leaving more sand behind each time. “You’re trying to show me something?”
“Yes. Your abortion was a huge hole, wasn’t it? And it’s still hurting you to this day.”
The word was so brutal. Her abortion. Maryanne cringed. “I bet you think badly of me.”
“I’ve done wrong before. My holes are smaller and maybe many more than yours. But God washes them away just the same.”
Maryanne peeked at the sand holes. “Yours are all gone now, without a trace. Mine are getting shallow.”
“Yes, it takes longer to heal from bigger holes, but no matter how big the hole is, it doesn’t stand a chance against the ever-present waves. Think you can dig a hole so big God can’t fill it?”
“No, but why would he want to fill mine?”
Stella hugged her. “He sent his Son to forgive sins. It doesn’t matter how big or small they are.”
“Even murder?” A ray of hope trickled into Maryanne’s heart. “Against an innocent baby?”
“That’s what Jesus died for. Go ahead, ask him to save you, to take your sins and wash it away with his blood, just like the waves wash away the holes in the sand.”
Maryanne twisted her hands and knelt on the sand. She turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes. Could God care for her? They all say He’d forgive her, make everything new. Would He heal Emma? Help her to love her? Her face warmed from the sunshine, and she breathed evenly through her nose. It was there, God’s love, had always been there, but she had never asked. Excitement kindled in her belly, and she bowed her head. “God, I’m so sorry for what I did. I want to be clean and forgiven. Dear Jesus, please accept me and be my Saviour.”
Stella’s hand rested on the back of her neck, and she knelt on the sand. “Dear Heavenly Father, bless my sister, Maryanne, and give her your boundless love and comfort. We bring Emma Faith to you for healing. Give Maryanne the grace to love and care for her daughter, and thank you for giving her a home in Heaven. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Stella’s voice was warm and melodious. Maryanne looked up toward Heaven. The sky was pure blue with light wisps of clouds. God had forgiven her.
“I wish Lucas were here so I can tell him,” Maryanne whispered. “He said he’d forgive me too.”
“Oh, he will.” Stella hugged her tightly. “Are you ready to forgive yourself?”
The crashing surf had erased all traces of their holes, leaving the sand smooth with tiny pits left by foamy bubbles. It was so peaceful. There was no one else around, neither to the north or south.
“I’ll still remember what I did and have to live with it.” Maryanne shoved her fists into the pocket of her sweat jacket. “It makes me very sad.”
Stella opened her purse and took out a notepad. “I counsel women recovering from abortion. You’ll be surprised how many people are in your shoes. I’ve not met a single one who didn’t regret it.”
“How do they cope? In some ways it was easier if you believed you did the right thing, that it was your right. You know, all the slogans, my body, my choice. It’s not a baby, it’s a parasite.”
“After grief comes acceptance. That’s all any of us can do.” She handed Maryanne the notepad and a pen. “It might help to write your baby a letter. He’s up there with God. Would you like to do that?”
Maryanne glanced at her cell phone. “They’ll be done with Emma’s operation in another hour. Shouldn’t we start getting back?”
“Sure, but why don’t you write the letter first? We’ll slip it in a plastic baggie and tie it to a balloon. Send it to Heaven. It’s the first step toward healing. I’ll go get the balloons.” Stella retreated up the path through the dunes toward the parking lot.
Maryanne found a spot sheltered by a sandstone wall hollowed and shaped by the wind. She gazed at the sky. Please forgive me, baby. Tears blurred her vision. She’d name him Barry, after his father.
The words flowed across the notepad. She had so much she wanted to say to him. Maryanne swiped her windblown hair from her face and reread the letter. A shadow fell across the page.
Lucas stood with his back to the sun, the light casting a reddish fringe around his head. Two balloons were tethered to his wrist.
“You came?” Maryanne’s breath snagged in the back of her throat even as her heartbeat clapped like an excited child in front of her birthday cake.
“Stella met me at the parking lot. I have a letter too.” He handed her a folded piece of stationery. “Will you read it?”
“Can I have a hug first?” She stepped toward him. “Jesus forgave me, and I thought you’d be happy.”
Lucas wrapped her in a bear hug, picking her feet off the ground and swinging her around. “I’m so very happy, I am. And I love you so much. So very much.”
The flimsy barriers Maryanne erected in her heart were swept away like the walls of a child’s sandcastle. She melted into his arms and swayed ag
ainst his chest. Vera’s advice warned her to hold back, to extract some concession. But joy outweighed caution, and she was giddy with love.
He set her down and pointed to his letter. “I want to share this with you before I put it in the baggie and send it to Heaven.”
She unfolded it. “Do you want me to be alone when I read it?”
“No way.” He picked her up and placed her in his lap. “Go ahead.”
Maryanne pressed the page on her knee to keep the wind from flapping it. She read:
Dear Darlene, I’ve never met you, but I will someday. You’re never far from me, and I loved you from the moment I knew of your existence. The problem was I also hated your mother and was filled with bitterness. Your little life on earth ended before it even began. You were a gaping hole in my heart and instead of filling it with forgiveness and understanding, I raged against your mother. I learned too late that your mother was a victim too. Even though she chose wrongly, she didn’t need judgment, but understanding. She didn’t need condemnation, but forgiveness. I’ve forgiven her. Your existence ties me with her and is the only reminder of the love we once had. I’ve let her go. She has a life of her own, and I have mine. But darling girl, Daddy will always love you, and I hope you will be waiting for me in that glorious land where no tears exist. Your father, Lucas Knight.
“That was beautiful.” Maryanne sniffed and wiped her eyes. Could any of those words have been meant for her? That Lucas would no longer condemn or judge her? “I’m glad you forgave Daria.”
“Me too. But can you forgive me?” He weaved his fingers in her hair and flattened her against his chest.
“Oh, Lucas, there’s nothing to forgive. I hurt you by keeping secrets from you. I was afraid you’d condemn me if you knew.”
He kissed her on both checks and lightly on the lips, rubbing her nose. “You’ve always accepted me. That’s what made me love you, but I wasn’t the most accepting of you. I’m sorry.”
This was way more than she deserved. It was like Christmas, her birthday and Easter all rolled up in one. An overwhelming warmth flooded Maryanne’s chest, and peace descended over her heart. She stroked Lucas’ short beard. “Forgiven. Think our babies will forgive us?”
“Yes. They’re with God and understand everything.” Lucas lowered his gaze. “Can I read your note?”
“Sure.” She pressed the note into his hand.
He opened it and read:
Dear Barry Junior. For the longest time I blamed your father for forcing me to get rid of you. I told myself I had no choice, that he was bigger, meaner, and he didn’t want you, that he threatened to break up with me if I had you. I did what he wanted, and he still broke up with me. Laugh if you want. I’m a loser. But deep inside, I knew blaming your father was an excuse. If I were a better person, I would have kept you whether he wanted you or not. So I’m sorry, truly sorry, and I regret what I did for the stupidest and most selfish reasons. I didn’t value your life, and I don’t deserve your regard. I truly hope you’ll understand and forgive me, if it’s possible. Your mom, Maryanne Torres.
Lucas kissed the note. “You’re not a loser. And that was a heartfelt letter. You ready to send them up?”
She nodded and reached for the two balloons. “Let’s put the letters in the same bag. I want our kids to be friends.”
“Think they’ll fall in love up there?” His cheek dimpled with a lopsided grin.
“Let’s give them an excuse to get together.” Maryanne untied the balloons from Lucas’ wrist, and he placed the letters into a single plastic bag.
He sealed the bag and knotted it around the ribbons of both balloons. “Ready?”
“Wait, we have to get into the position.” Maryanne hopped onto the rock ledge and faced him. “Now I’m level with you. Put one arm around me and hold the string with the other.”
His white teeth gleamed, and his eyes were half-closed, dreamy. “Is this the position? Closer?”
“We need to kiss.”
“Do we let go before or after?” His breath tickled her lips.
“How about we kiss first, let the balloons go, watch until we can’t see it anymore, and kiss again?”
“Will you have me back?” His glossy green eyes gazed at her with warmth.
“Yes, if you’ll have me.”
He closed the gap, and she parted her lips, welcoming him. A wave of contentment flowed through her chest and down her spine. She massaged the back of his neck, bringing him closer. His throat rumbled, and he brushed the sides of her breasts to clasp her around the small of her back.
The balloon ribbons unraveled from her fingers. She didn’t look up, couldn’t tear herself from Lucas. He was centered on her, his eyes loving, his lips tender, and his beard arousing. He caressed her with both hands as if appreciating her every contour.
Maryanne’s cell phone jangled, indicating a received text. She took the phone out of her pocket. It was a message from Lilly. “Emma’s in recovery and doing great. Normal blood pressure, running a slight fever, but breathing well. Good color and muscle tone.”
“Oh thank you, God.” Maryanne showed the message to Lucas. She looked up, but the balloons had vanished.
~~~
Emma Faith Torres Knight
Epilogue
“Better get that banner up.” Lucas passed the tape to Maryanne and jiggled the ladder. It was the morning of Emma’s baby dedication, and they expected a house full of guests.
“Stop, I’m going to fall.” She dug a knuckle into the top of his head. “That’s for making me climb up here.”
“Hey, you lost the bet. Hurry before Emma wakes up.”
She taped one end of the banner to the crown molding. “I can’t reach the corner, wise guy.”
“Never make a bet on something you can’t control. Old Indian saying.” Lucas blew his knuckles and gave the ladder another shake.
The banner fell and landed on his head.
“And never trust a woman whose IQ is higher than her height in centimeters.” Maryanne descended the ladder and shoved the tape at him. “I only said I’d climb to the top, not put the banner up. Go ahead, your turn.”
Lucas picked up the banner. “Do we really need it? Everyone knows it’s her baby dedication party.”
She pushed his butt up the ladder. “Put some of that tallness to good use. And don’t forget the streamers. I hear Emma through the baby monitor.”
Lucas threw a wadded tissue at Maryanne and missed as she disappeared into the nursery.
The front door swung open, its top corner slamming into his side. He dropped the tape and once again, the red and pink banner fluttered to the foyer below.
“Oops, sorry.” Sandra gave the ladder a shake and laughed. “Help me bring in the groceries. I have to put this ice cream cake in the freezer.”
His mother stepped in after Sandra. “What? You’re not ready?” She picked up the banner.
Lucas’ fathered stomped his feet on the doormat and made a motion as if removing gloves. He rubbed his hands on his jacket. “The barbeque pro is here. Did you heat the coals in the barrel barbeque I had specially made for you? It’s your wedding present, so you aren’t getting anything else.”
“Dad!” Lucas waved his hand. “She doesn’t know yet.”
“Doesn’t know what?” His mother’s voice was even louder. “That she’s marrying you?”
“Can you two keep it down?” Lucas glanced over her shoulder.
Sandra returned from the kitchen and parked herself on the parson’s bench. “Now this! I gotta hear.”
“I need you guys to act normal. You know, like this is a party for Emma, which it is.”
“Yes?” Sandra fingered her chin and tilted her head. “We’re completely normal, aren’t we?”
“Oh, yeah, we’re always normal.” Ma shook her hips.
His dad twirled around on tiptoes. “Can’t get more normal than us.”
“We’re so normal we better hide the bride and groom in the closet
.” Sandra danced in the entranceway.
“Guys, please, spare the commentary.” Lucas taped streamers across the doorway. “And Ma, try to not look so cheerful.”
Lucas moved the ladder to the other side of the door and climbed it with the banner in hand. The door opened with a loud bang, jolting the ladder.
Maryanne’s father looked up. “Finally making an honest woman out of her, huh?”
Lucas gestured for him to be quiet. “She’s supposed to think we’re dedicating the baby.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He clapped his hand over his mouth. “My wife doesn’t know either. She’s brought two of her baby dolls. Let me help her from the car.”
Zach and Vera crowded into the doorway. They winked exaggeratedly over and over again.
“Lucas, what time did we tell the guests to arrive?” Maryanne came down the hallway wearing kitty cat slippers. She glanced at Vera. “Is something wrong with your eye?”
“Oh, nothing!” Vera chirped like a cockatiel on caffeine. “Contact lenses bothering me.”
“Hi, Zach.” Maryanne shook his hand. “You came all the way from Australia to welcome Emma. It really touches my heart.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Zach swallowed and grinned. Fortunately, Vera took his hand and guided him to the patio where Lucas’ father was setting up to grill.
Lucas touched Maryanne’s shoulders and backed her into the powder room. He pressed a kiss on her lips, breathing in her baby powder scent. “You and Emma smell so sweet.”
Her arms snaked around his waist. “That’s because you haven’t been doing the diapers.”
He kissed her again. “I would if I were her father.”
“Still pushing, aren’t you?” She poked his chest.
“I want us to be a family. You said you’d decide after Emma was settled. First it was the adoption, then it was her health problems. She’s been home for a month already.”
“She still has multiple issues. Her sleep apnea, the feeding tube, the bowel problems. You need to concentrate on training and racing.” Maryanne avoided his gaze.
Hidden Under Her Heart Page 31