“Jeremy Lane,” she said as fast as she could.
“The lawyer.” Barrett nodded. “We delivered a bunch of stuff to him earlier this year.”
Barrett marked a spot on the road with a big X.
“He lives about here in a brick house with white shutters. It’s landscaped real nice. His wife likes to work in the yard.”
He handed Sandy the paper.
“Thanks,” she said, turning away.
“Don’t forget your hollies,” Barrett said. “Once you pay for something, it’s yours. Do you need help carrying them to your car?”
“No, thank you.”
Sandy cradled the pots in her arms and left the building. She put the bushes in the back of the truck.
“Do you want me to tie those in so they don’t roll around?” a voice said.
Sandy jumped. It was Barrett. He’d followed her out of the store.
“Uh, that would be nice,” she said.
Barrett left and returned a minute later with a piece of twine that he wrapped around the pots and tied off to the truck bed.
“That should hold them,” he said.
Sandy drove slowly out of the lot. She fought the notion that Danny Barrett had gone inside and phoned Jeremy to let him know a woman in a white pickup truck was on her way to his house.
With each turn Sandy’s heart began beating faster. When she saw the sign for Saxony Lane, she paused and took a deep breath. She drove slowly down the street. A boy on a bicycle approached her. The boy was wearing a helmet, and Sandy stared intently at him. Then she remembered that Zach was only five years old and wouldn’t be riding a bike alone on the street. The boy on the bike was at least twice Zack’s age.
Sandy drove another hundred yards before seeing Jeremy’s house. Barrett had been right. It was red brick with white shutters and a beautiful yard of green grass. The garage doors were open, and Sandy could see two vehicles, a silver minivan and Jeremy’s white SUV. It was 9:15 a.m., and no one was in sight. She continued past the house. Glancing back, she saw that the backyard was fenced in with a wooden privacy fence. Rising over the top of the fence was a large play set with a crow’s nest on top.
Sandy drove on down the road and turned around in a cul-de-sac. When Jeremy’s house came into view the second time, she saw the young lawyer standing at the entrance to the garage. He was wearing a black golf shirt and blue jeans. A moment later, a girl wearing a soccer uniform joined him. A small boy also wearing jeans and a white shirt came into view. Chloe and Zach. Sandy pulled to the side of the street beneath a large oak tree. Actually seeing the children, even from a distance, made her heart feel like it was about to explode.
Jeremy and the children disappeared from view, but less than a minute later the silver minivan backed down the driveway. Sandy could see Leanne in the passenger seat. Sandy followed the van, being careful to maintain several car lengths’ separation. She also put on sunglasses in case Jeremy looked in the rearview mirror. Jeremy and his family left the neighborhood and headed toward town. The absurdity of what she was doing hit Sandy. Was she turning into a stalker who spent all her free time spying on the Lane family? Wouldn’t it be more honest to contact Jeremy, tell him who she was, and respectfully ask if he had an interest in getting to know her? While these thoughts swirled through her head, the minivan turned right into the parking lot of one of Tryon’s two elementary schools. Families were milling about. Girls in soccer uniforms were walking in small groups toward a sports field where soccer nets were set up. Sandy slowed down and watched as Jeremy pulled into a parking space. Chloe hopped out of the car. She was wearing high-top blue socks and soccer shoes. Jeremy and Leanne followed carrying portable chairs. Zach ran ahead to the field. Chloe started talking to some other girls.
There was a large playground with swing sets, slides, and monkey bars at the rear of the school. From the playground area, Sandy would be able to watch the soccer game from a safe distance. She parked the truck near the playground. Jeremy and Leanne placed their chairs along the sidelines. Using the telephoto lens on her camera, Sandy snapped a few photos. The girls were warming up on the field. Chloe’s team was in front of the goal nearest Sandy, so she had a good view. Warm-ups consisted of the girls kicking balls to one another. After the coaches called the teams together, a referee blew a whistle, and the game began.
Chloe was playing midfielder. Twice she kept the opposing team from kicking the ball into her team’s end of the field. Then she intercepted a pass and started running toward the goal. Sandy expected her to pass off to one of the forwards, but Chloe executed a nifty move around a defender, stopped in front of the goalie, and kicked the ball into the net with her left foot. Sandy’s mouth dropped open. It was an amazing shot for a ten-year-old. Chloe had frozen the goalie. The opposing team’s coach yelled at his goalie and gestured with his hands. Jeremy and Leanne were standing up and cheering. Chloe’s coach called her over to the sidelines, gave her a high five, and directed her to a place on the bench.
After the momentary excitement the game was a typical soccer stalemate. Even with young players, it isn’t easy to score. When the referee whistled the end of the first half, the score was 1–0. During halftime, Chloe ran over to her parents. Sandy took more pictures. The second half started with Chloe playing striker. The other coach saw the shift and directed one of his players to shadow Chloe at all times. That made it hard for Chloe to get the ball. Several minutes passed before she had a chance. She dribbled toward the goal, then stopped so suddenly that the defender stumbled. Chloe kicked the ball to a teammate who was at the other end of an undefended net. The girl tapped the ball in for a goal.
“Yes!” Sandy exclaimed. “Beautiful assist.”
Sandy wasn’t a big soccer fan, but she was enjoying this game immensely. Zach divided his time between sitting on the grass next to his mother and running up and down the sidelines. Sandy saw him say something to Leanne, then he turned and ran in Sandy’s direction. Her heart leaped into her throat. He came closer. Sandy couldn’t take her eyes off him. The little boy had Brad Donnelly’s hair and eyes, but there was someone else’s influence in his mouth and the shape of his head. He reached the playground and began swinging on a swing. Sandy was surprised at how high he went as he pumped his sturdy little legs. Sandy reached for her camera and took some wonderful pictures. Jeremy and Leanne were focused on the soccer game. The other team scored a goal after Chloe whiffed on an attempt to kick the ball away from an offensive player, who kicked it over the goalie’s head into the net.
Zach stopped swinging and trotted over to the monkey bars. He was barely tall enough to climb up to a row of horizontal bars. He grabbed hold of the top bar and swung out into space. He reached forward with his right hand and grabbed the next bar. The camera clicked rapidly as Sandy took more pictures. Zach released his left hand so it could join his right hand and twisted his body slightly to bridge the gap. Suspended in space, he swung his feet forward. Sandy snapped another photo. Suddenly Zach lost his grip with his right hand and tumbled to the ground, landing on his left shoulder.
“No!” Sandy cried, covering her mouth with her hand.
Zach rolled over and cried out in pain. He grabbed his shoulder with his right hand. His parents were on their feet cheering as Chloe’s team tried to keep their opponent from scoring the tying goal. Zach tried to stand up but collapsed, crying, on the ground. Sandy dropped the camera on the seat and desperately looked around. No one was paying attention to the little boy. Sandy reached for the handle of the door to get out but then had another idea. She hit the center of the steering wheel and sounded the truck’s horn. Pressing down on it again, she sounded a long blast. Leanne looked in the direction of the playground and grabbed Jeremy by the arm. He began running rapidly toward the playground, with Leanne trailing behind him. Sandy turned on the truck’s engine and backed out of the parking space. As she put the truck into gear, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw Jeremy gingerly helping Zach to his feet. Leann
e, who still hadn’t reached the playground, glanced at the truck, then arrived at the monkey bars where she fell on her knees in front of Zach, who leaned his head against her.
Shaking, Sandy left the parking lot. There was no doubt Zach was hurt, but she couldn’t tell how serious it might be. She drove a few blocks from the school and pulled into the empty parking area for a dentist’s office. She wondered if she should have jumped out of the truck to help the little boy, but she’d been frozen by indecision. Turning off the truck’s engine, she leaned her head against the steering wheel to collect her thoughts and feelings.
By blowing the horn, she’d got Jeremy’s and Leanne’s attention. That was the best thing to do. If she’d dashed onto the scene, Zach would have been frightened by a stranger running up to him. Sandy lifted her head and saw the silver minivan pass by with its hazard lights flashing. The local hospital wasn’t far away. That’s where they had to be taking Zach.
Sandy wanted to go to the hospital but knew she shouldn’t. Her heart ached for Zach. Her trip to Tryon had been so much more than she could have hoped for until the little boy took his tumble. She exited the parking lot. As she passed the town limits for Tryon, Sandy was praying for Zach.
After unloading the bushes at her house and sweeping out the truck bed, Sandy pulled smoothly into Bob Dortch’s car lot and backed the truck into the space where it had been earlier in the day. Bob walked across the pavement toward her.
“After four hours of shifting gears, you’re an expert who has to show off what she can do,” he said.
Sandy handed him the keys and smiled.
“It was rough at first, but it came back to me. Thanks for letting me borrow the truck. I bought a couple of bushes at Barrett’s.”
“I’m glad that place isn’t in Rutland,” Bob said. “Barb never spends less than $200 every time we go over there.”
“Maybe I’ll invite her the next time I make a trip.”
“Not in one of my trucks! She’ll spend $500 if she has a truck to haul stuff back in.” Bob motioned toward the service department. “Your car is ready. We changed the oil. Everything else checked out fine.”
“Great.”
“Lenny has your keys and invoice for the service.”
Alone in her house, Sandy felt the ache of separation from Jeremy and his family. It was a new sensation, and Sandy wasn’t sure how to handle it. After eating a sandwich, she called the hospital in Tryon.
“Is Zach Lane a patient?” she asked the woman who answered the patient information number. “He fell off the monkey bars at the elementary school a couple of hours ago.”
The woman was silent for a moment.
“No,” she replied. “He was treated in the emergency room and sent home.”
“Okay, thanks,” Sandy said with relief.
Knowing that Zach wasn’t seriously injured, Sandy was able to enjoy downloading the photographs she’d taken. Some of the pictures were fuzzy due to her distance from the subjects, but she had quite a few that turned out nicely.
The photos of Zach at the playground were the clearest of all. Sandy suspected he was a wide-open little boy who kept his mother on edge. She leaned forward and looked at Jeremy. Even though he was an adult, in Sandy’s mind he was still part child. The gap between the infant nursery in Atlanta and the house in Tryon was too broad for Sandy to leap over in forty-eight hours. She printed out several photos. A knock at her kitchen door interrupted her.
“Sorry I didn’t call before dropping in,” Jessica said. “But I went by to see Mrs. Jackson, and she wanted me to give you something.”
Mildred Jackson was a woman in her early eighties who’d been the librarian at the middle school Sandy and Jessica attended. The girls had thought she was old then. Jessica handed Sandy a small linen napkin.
“She made this on the little loom she set up in the sunroom off her kitchen.”
Sandy fingered the closely woven fabric.
“It’s just like her to take up a new hobby at eighty-two. She said she was going to make something for me the last time I stopped by. Come in for a few minutes.”
Jessica paused at the door long enough to scratch Nelson’s head. Sandy put on a pot of water to brew some tea. The women sat at Sandy’s kitchen table.
“How is your pregnant student doing?” Jessica asked.
“I’m doing more than I should to help her.”
“What do you mean?”
Sandy shared with Jessica what she’d told Ben.
“Yesterday I drove her to Tryon so she could meet with a lawyer who could explain her legal rights to her.”
“Tryon?”
“Yes, it was somebody Ben suggested.”
“Who?”
A lump suddenly rose in Sandy’s throat.
“Jeremy Lane,” she said, trying to sound casual. “He’s in his thirties. Very smart and compassionate. He has a beautiful family of his own.”
“You met his family?”
“No, but he had pictures of them on his credenza,” Sandy replied awkwardly.
The teapot whistled and rescued Sandy. While she brewed the tea, Jessica went to the bathroom. Sandy poured the tea into cups. Jessica liked her tea sweet, so Sandy added an extra spoonful of sugar.
“Sandy,” Jessica said when she returned. “Who is this?”
Jessica had a photograph of the Lane family in her hand. Sandy dropped the teapot on the stove so abruptly that tea sloshed out onto the burner and hissed.
“Where did you—” Sandy asked.
“The printer on your computer was beeping, and I checked to see if something was wrong. This was lying beside the monitor—”
“I know.” Sandy leaned back against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes for a moment. “That’s Jeremy Lane’s family.”
“Why do you have pictures of his family at a soccer game?”
“Jeremy Lane is my son.”
Jessica took a few steps forward and collapsed into a chair.
“How?” Jessica mumbled.
The women sat down, and Sandy told her the story. Jessica started to cry. Sandy got up to get her some tissues.
“Does your mother know?”
“No. I haven’t told any of my family.” Sandy paused. “I wasn’t ready to tell you but didn’t have much choice after you snooped around my computer and found the pictures.”
“That was an accident.”
“And you’re closer to me than a sister. I don’t mind you being the first to know.”
Jessica reached across the table and squeezed Sandy’s hand.
“Does Jeremy have any idea?”
“How could he? If I’d not seen the Charleston house in his parents’ file years ago, I wouldn’t have made the connection. But once I realized the truth, there’s no denying the family resemblance.”
Jessica put on her reading glasses and studied the picture.
“It’s hard to tell at this distance, but he looks like Jack, and you, of course. His daughter is a Lincoln, but the little boy—”
“Favors Brad Donnelly.”
“Yes.” Jessica nodded.
“It was strange seeing Brad in miniature, but Zach also picked up a lot from his mom.”
Jessica shook her head. Suddenly she sat upright.
“Does Jeremy know he has a twin?”
“I doubt it,” Sandy replied. “The adoption agency placed the boys with families on opposite sides of the country and sealed the records.”
“And I won’t breathe a word to anyone about this, not even Rick.” Jessica looked again at the picture. “When are you going to tell Jeremy who you are?”
“Do you think I should?” Sandy asked. “Most of the time it’s the child who tries to find the birth mother. He may not want to meet me. The woman who raised him sounds like an amazing woman.”
Jessica sipped tea while Sandy told her about Jeremy’s adopted mom.
“That tells me you made a good choice at the adoption agency,” Jessica said. “And
it’s not like Jeremy is a sixteen-year-old boy who wants to run away from home and find his birth mother. At thirty-three, he has his own life and family and can relate to you as an adult. He should be thrilled to find you, and it’s neat that you’ve ended up living so close together. I think it’s meant to be.”
Sandy smiled. “I had an urge to hug him and kiss his cheeks as if he were a little boy.”
“That makes sense to me. Your last memory of him was in a bassinet in a hospital nursery. But you’ll move past that.”
“Yeah, and I need to think this over from every angle before doing anything. I don’t want to be selfish.”
“It would be selfish if you barged in and tried to push his mother out of the way. Tell Jeremy the truth and let him set the boundaries for your relationship with his family. That wouldn’t be your responsibility.”
Sandy got a faraway look in her eyes.
“When I saw his children, I thought my heart would come out of my throat,” she said. “Maybe it was suppressed maternal instinct, but I’ve never felt that way or thought I could.”
“You’ll be a wonderful grandmother.”
“But what if Jeremy doesn’t want to have anything to do with me? In his mind, I abandoned him.”
“If he feels that way after he hears your story, he’s not the outstanding young man you think he is.”
“And if he wants to meet his father?”
Jessica raised her eyebrows. “That’s something I hadn’t considered. Do you even know where Brad is? He’s never been back for a reunion.”
“Jimmy Caldwell pulled me aside when he was in town for Coach Cochran’s retirement party and told me Brad was living near Pittsburgh and working as a salesman for a chemical company. He’d been married a couple of times and was recently divorced.”
“Any children?”
“Jimmy wasn’t sure.”
“You didn’t tell me about that.”
“Did you really want to know?”
“No,” Jessica admitted. “My mother prayed for Brad when we were in school together, but I never did. I guess I’m still mad at him for how he treated you.”
The Choice Page 24