by Kelly Irvin
“Stop.” Abigail whined and shifted so she leaned against the other side. “Leave me alone.”
Iris chuckled and leaned back, her arm around Lilly’s basket. Lilly had been passed around and loved on by many of the guests. She should sleep well. Home would feel good for both of them tonight. Maybe tonight Mahon, who’d been busy helping with the preparations, would make another visit.
Another kiss.
Her cheeks and neck warmed. Thinking about kissing Mahon in a buggy full of family wasn’t a good idea. She couldn’t help it. Between mulling over Lilly’s fate—so intertwined with her own—and thinking about the possibility of a future with Mahon, she couldn’t think straight.
“We have company.”
Daed’s gruff voice held surprise. In farmer time, it was late. Past their bedtime. Dusk had long come and gone.
Mudder sighed.
“Who is it?” Iris leaned forward and peered into the dark night. An unfamiliar green truck with Iowa plates sat parked at an odd angle—as if turned off in a rush—in front of the house.
Iris’s happiness disappeared into a sudden knowing. She gripped the handle of Lilly’s basket with both hands as if it might fly out of the buggy. The joy of seeing her best friend married slipped away, replaced by a sense of impeding anguish that must be faced and then accepted. His face twisted in a deep frown, Daed swiveled on the buggy’s front seat to look back at her. “I knew it would come to this.”
“We don’t know what it’s come to yet.” Mudder patted Daed’s thigh with her gloved hand. “Let’s just see who it is.”
Daed pulled in next to the car. “I’ll do the talking.”
A gray-haired woman in baggy black pants and a short green coat eased from the car, using a cane to pull herself upright. She put one hand on her hip and stretched. “Hello there. I was getting worried you might not come home tonight. I’ve been sitting out here for hours.”
Hours. For something important.
Iris hoisted herself from the buggy and turned to lower the basket.
“Is that her? Is that Jessica’s baby?” The woman limped on rubber-soled rain boots toward Iris. An anxious smile bloomed on her face. She had dimpled cheeks and bright-blue eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses. Her hands fluttered. One came to rest on her ample bosom. “It’s her, isn’t it? The girl at the grocery store—Kathy Myer—said you have Jessica’s baby.”
His expression all deacon, Daed stepped between Iris and the woman. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jessica’s grandma. Sherri Turner.” The woman’s voice trembled. She sniffed and wiped at her nose with a crumpled tissue. “That makes the baby in that basket my first great-grandchild. Could I see her? Please.”
Iris stumbled back a step. “How do we know you are who you say you are?”
“Why would I lie?”
“We’re sorry you had to wait so long. We’ve been at a wedding.” Mudder’s smile encompassed them all. It landed on Daed last. “It’s getting chilly. Let’s go inside. I’ll make some coffee. You can tell us your story.”
“I’ll come in and restart the fire before I tend to the horses.” Daed tied the reins to the hitching post and nodded at the girls. “Abigail, Louella, go on upstairs and get ready for bed. We’ll be up for prayers in a bit.”
Eyes wide with interest, the girls went in first, taking their time, not wanting to be left out of whatever excitement was about to happen. Mudder shooed them through the door and held it for their guest.
A strange buzzing in her ears, Iris trudged up the steps and into the house where she set Lilly’s basket on the front room table and removed her coat. She couldn’t think. Sounds reverberated. Time stood still and sped up at the same time. As if that were possible. This was it. The baby who’d come into her life in the middle of a snowstorm would now leave just as abruptly.
Sherri edged toward the basket. “Could I see her?”
“Please sit down.” Mudder pointed to the rocking chair situated by the fireplace where Daed was restarting the fire. “Have you come a long way?”
“From Des Moines. I drove straight through after I heard about the Facebook post.”
“Facebook.” Iris hung her coat on the hook by the door. Every muscle in her body wanted to grab the basket and run, run far, far away. But then she would be like Jessica and Quinn, who couldn’t face what life offered them, and instead, dodged their responsibilities. “You heard about Lilly on Facebook?”
“It would be best if you start at the beginning.” Daed stoked the fire with the poker, then stood. “The sheriff ’s office gave us temporary custody of the baby until something permanent could be worked out. We’ll have to let them know if family has come for her.”
“After Jessica and Quinn took off and I realized they weren’t coming back, I started looking for them. I tried all their friends, everyone I could think of. I didn’t think they would go far.” Her gaze still on the basket, Sherri removed her glasses and blotted tears on her wrinkled cheeks. “Weeks passed and nobody knew anything. Then yesterday I got a call from my great-niece Tanya. She’s on social media night and day. She said a friend of a friend had seen a post on Facebook that had been shared so many times it got to a friend of Tanya’s. A girl named Kathy Myer from Jamesport had posted a picture of two sketches. She said the kids were wanted by the Daviess County Missouri Sheriff ’s Office for questioning in a theft at the grocery store where she works. Tanya said they looked just like Jessica and Quinn. She printed it for me.”
Sherri delved into her gargantuan, black patent leather pocketbook and produced a ragged manila envelope. It held dozens of photographs. Jessica in a red cheerleading outfit. Jessica eating a slice of watermelon. Jessica blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Jessica in short denim cut-offs with frayed hems and a halter top leaning against the green truck now parked in the Beachy’s front yard. Behind the smaller snapshots was a larger one, an eight-by-ten. A photograph of Mahon’s sketches.
Iris forced herself to look from the sketch of Jessica to her grandmother. The resemblance was slight. The eyes. The shape of her face. It was hard to say with a woman now in her late sixties and a sixteen-year-old girl.
“Iris.”
She started at the sound of her father’s voice. She glanced at him. He nodded toward the basket. Swallowing a lump the size of a ten-pound sack of potatoes, Iris stood. She leaned over the basket and slid her hands under the quilt that kept Lilly warm. The baby’s eyes opened. After a lazy yawn, she stretched and gave Iris a sleepy stare. With a heart this heavy, how would Iris manage to pick up this tiny baby and hand her over to a great-grandmother who hadn’t wanted her?
“Iris.”
This time her father’s voice held a warning. She turned and moved toward Sherri. Every step seemed to cover too much territory, bringing her closer and closer to a precipice from which she would leap and there would be no return. She gritted her teeth, adjusted the quilt, and held Lilly out.
Tears rolled down Sherri’s face. She accepted the bundled baby with no notice, no acknowledgment, of Iris or her pain. “My baby quilt.”
Iris tried to follow her train of thought. “Your quilt?”
“I have chores to do,” Daed interrupted. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
His sharp tone told Iris what his expectations were. She nodded. His gaze softened and he smiled. “Be sure to give your guest something to eat. She’s had a long drive.”
Iris waited until the front door closed. She turned back to Sherri. “What were you saying about your quilt?”
“My mother gave it to me when Melissa was born.” Sherri shook her head, her voice breaking. She used her free hand to shuffle through the photos. “Look. Jessica when she was a newborn.”
A photo of a baby wrapped in the same nine-patch crib quilt with purple, pink, and lilac squares. “Your mother made it?”
“No. My grandmother. When she was pregnant with my mother. It’s a family heirloom.”
Like the one in Mudder’s chest
down the hallway. A different pattern, but the same tradition of family and love and celebration of new birth. English or Plain. Family traditions created bonds between generations. Lilly belonged to that tradition, just as Iris belonged to hers. She swallowed her pain and cleared her throat. “I’m glad it didn’t get lost in all the turmoil. Did you give it to Jessica?”
“I didn’t intend for her to keep it. I wanted her to see that when the time was right, she would have a baby and we would do all this the right way. We had an argument. I told her after she finished school and got married and was ready to have a family, I would give it to her. It would be waiting for her.” Sherri’s voice quivered at the memory. “She looked at me like I was a monster. She snatched it up and ran out of the room before I could stop her.”
Iris’s shoes were cemented to the floor. She should back away, but she couldn’t. If she did, she would never get Lilly back. “Jessica said you wanted to give her baby away. How could you?”
“I watched her get bigger and bigger. She looked more and more like her mother. It broke my heart to think of what the future held for her, for the baby, for me.” Sherri tore her gaze from Lilly. “I’ve been through this before. With Jessica’s mother.”
“Where is she? Why doesn’t she help?”
“She’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Melissa was a wild thing. I was divorced. A single, working mom. I didn’t have the time or the energy to corral her. In high school she went crazy. She got pregnant. I took care of Jessica so Melissa could finish school, make something of herself. Instead, she sank deeper into the life she’d chosen. Then she died of a drug overdose, leaving me with another little girl. Jessica. I raised her. I raised her the best I could.”
She bowed her head and closed her eyes as if praying. Maybe she was praying—for forgiveness, for discernment, for her dead daughter and her missing granddaughter, for this new life in her arms. She opened her eyes and stared at Iris. “I didn’t think I had the strength to do it again. I’m old and tired, and I have arthritis and bad back trouble. I told Jessica I couldn’t do it. I’m too old. I wanted her to put the baby up for adoption. I’d already looked into it. That’s why she ran away.”
“Then she ended up giving the baby to me.” Iris stifled the urge to shout. None of it made sense. Plain people didn’t do these things. They grew up, they married, they had children, they raised them, they died. An orderly existence. “How is that different?”
“It was the one single selfless act Jessica has ever performed.” Sherri smiled the saddest smile Iris had ever seen. “I’ve never been so proud. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do the same, now that I’ve held this precious baby in my arms.”
“How is it selfless to throw away a baby?”
“No one is throwing away a baby.” Her voice grew fierce. “There’s a couple in Des Moines who are desperate for a baby. They can’t have one of their own. My granddaughter left her baby with you because she realized I was right. She’s too immature to take care of a baby. Giving her to you was a selfless act of love. Giving this baby to that couple would also be an act of love.”
Iris fought to control her own voice. She breathed. In and out. In and out. Shame assailed her. “You’re right. Jessica wanted to do the right thing. So do you.”
“Now there’s a slight problem.”
A slight problem. Hysterical laughter burbled up in Iris’s throat. “Only now?”
“Now that I’ve held her, there’s no way I can give her up. She’s my flesh and blood. As long as I have breath in my body, I’ll care for her. I need to tell Jessica this. I need for her to come home. Together, between the two of us, we can raise this baby.”
“What about Quinn?”
“He’s another child I’ll have to raise, I imagine . . .”
Her voice trailed off. The pain on her face spoke to Iris. It told her a story of love, regret, pain, and uncertainty. While Iris took care of Lilly, this grandmother had suffered the agony of not knowing where her grandchild was. “They’ll come home. In her note, Jessica said they would come back here. When they do, we’ll send them home to you.”
“You’re a dear, sweet girl. I can see why Jessica took to you so quickly.”
Lilly fussed. Iris gripped her hands behind her back to keep from reaching for her. Sherri laid her on her shoulder and patted her back. The cries grew in volume. “Hush, hush, little baby, don’t you cry,” Sherri began to sing. “Momma’s gonna buy you a rocking horse . . .”
The cries turned to screams. Iris’s hands flew to her ears. Swallowing tears that couldn’t be allowed to fall, she forced them down. Sherri shook her head and tutted. “She wants you.”
“She’s probably hungry. I’ll fix her a bottle.” Iris had to get out of the room. If she didn’t, she would snatch Lilly back and never let her go. She inched backward. “She’ll like you when she gets to know you. She’s a friendly baby.”
“You’re the only mother she’s ever known.”
It seemed an awful thing to do to a baby. With God’s grace, perhaps she wouldn’t remember. Abandoned twice. “She’ll adjust.”
Iris turned and fled to the kitchen.
Her mother sat at the table, sipping her tea. “You and Daed abandoned me.”
The irony of those words chilled Iris. She caught the sob in her throat before it escaped.
“You did a good thing, child.”
Then why did her heart and her throat throb with pain and her eyes burn? She turned her back and picked up a bottle from the counter. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “I feel heartbroken.”
“You specialize in selfless acts of love.”
Bottle still in her hand, she faced her mother. “You were listening.”
“I know what you’ve done. You let Aidan go because you knew he belonged with someone else. It’s what you’re made of.”
“You knew about that?”
“Mudders know everything.”
“You took care of Lilly to give her mother time to grow up. You’ve fed and rocked and burped and diapered her for the first six weeks of her life. You’ve given her a fighting chance. It’s time for Lilly to go home, and it’s time for you to get on with your life.”
Delivering other people’s babies. Holding them when they come into the world and then handing them over to another woman to love? She stared at the bottle in her hand. What she did gave joy to others, which brought joy to her. Was it enough? Should it be enough? “What do you mean?”
“I mean don’t keep Mahon waiting any longer. There’s a crib quilt in that chest down the hall waiting for you.”
Iris didn’t bother to ask how Mudder knew. Mudders knew everything.
Her throat tight with unshed tears, Iris fixed the bottle and returned to the living room where Sherri cooed to her fussy great-grandchild. “It’s late, and there are no hotels nearby. Do you want to spend the night? You can have my bed.”
“The bed where this baby was born?”
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t do that to you.”
“It’s okay. I’m not tired.”
She wouldn’t sleep, not with her heart in pieces and Lilly no longer hers. It would be a long night.
CHAPTER 13
The half-moon and thousands of stars lit up the inky April night sky. Iris welcomed their company. Feet bare, she eased into a rocking chair on the porch. Still, it squeaked, the noise loud in the stillness. She winced and sat unmoving for a few seconds. Nothing stirred. Everyone slept, oblivious to the frogs croaking, the crickets chirping, and the occasional questioning hoot of an owl. Lilly slept in her crib next to the bed Sherri had taken in Iris’s bedroom. No cries emanated from the room. Surely the fact that Lilly was sleeping through the night meant the baby felt safe and secure next to her great-granny. Iris leaned her head back and closed her eyes. For the first time in weeks, she had no responsibilities heavy on her shoulders like a wool winter cloak. No bottles to fix. No diapers to cha
nge. No need to keep one ear awake while the rest of her slept. Her duties had ended with an abruptness that left a void where mothering had been.
Tears pricked her eyes. She swallowed the knot in her throat. Gott knew best. Always. Thy will be done. Thy will be done. What would you have me do now?
The clip-clop of horse hooves in the distance, interspersed with the clatter of buggy wheels, brought her straight up from the chair. She sped to the railing and peered into the darkness. Headlights appeared in the distance. Her heart banged. Mahon. It had to be Mahon. He had known somehow that she couldn’t sleep. Maybe he couldn’t sleep for thinking of her. What a prideful thought. She pried it from her mind and tossed it in a heap with all those prideful thoughts of how she would be the best mother for Lilly.
The buggy drew closer. She couldn’t see the driver behind the brilliant lights. She padded down the steps and let her feet sink into the cold grass. Finally, the buggy pulled into the yard. Mahon. It was Mahon. Her fingers entwined themselves in the strings of her kapp.
“Iris. Iris, I’m here. It’s me, Jessica. I’m back.”
Jessica’s high voice trembled.
Iris froze.
Jessica had come back for her baby.
Mahon halted the buggy and hopped from the seat. “She came to the door and asked for me. She wanted to come directly here.”
“Why did you go to Mahon?” Life began to move forward again. Gott’s plan pulled her along with it. With Him. She held out her hand. Jessica took it and jumped down from the buggy. Her T-shirt was stained and her jeans dirty. She smelled of stale cheeseburger and pickle juice. “How did you get to Mahon’s?”