When Love Returns

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Sometimes it surprised Alexa how easily she and Mom had settled in. She shrugged, taking a box of cereal and a bowl from the cupboard. “I guess when it’s where you’re supposed to be, it just…works.”

  Linda watched her pour the cereal and milk, her face puckered into a thoughtful frown. “Do you think it’ll ever work for you to join that church in Arborville? Now, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. Tom and I enjoyed the singing—oh, the hymns! Those people sing better than some professional choirs I’ve heard. And the preaching went a little long, but I couldn’t find any fault with it even if it wasn’t a real minister giving the sermon. It’s solid. But the rules…” She shook her head. “Could you do all that—the dresses and caps and men and women sitting apart?”

  Alexa carried her bowl to the table and sat across from Linda. Her cereal was getting soggy, but she only stirred it around rather than eating it. “I’m not sure. Maybe. Eventually. Especially now that Mom’s joining.” She released a humorless huff of laughter. “I mean, look at my clothes. I’ve never dressed like my friends anyway. Putting on the Mennonite-approved dress and cap wouldn’t be a lot different than my skirts and blouses, right?”

  Linda’s gaze roved from Alexa’s button-up turquoise sweater to her denim skirt, knee socks, and brown ballet flats. “I dunno. Don’t think they’ll let you wear orange socks with blue and yellow butterflies with those dresses.”

  Alexa grinned. “No?” She gave a flippant shrug. “I can live without orange socks.”

  Linda reached over and cupped Alexa’s cheek. “Well, I tell you what, girlie. Tom and I will pray extra hard for you—that you’ll know what to do about joining, all right? We want you to be happy.”

  Alexa raised her shoulder, pressing Linda’s hand more firmly against her face. “I am happy, Linda. I really am. I think maybe it’s taken me being away from Mom for a little while to fully understand how special she is and how lucky I am to have her.”

  Linda gave her a little pat and dropped her hand. She pointed at the bowl. “Pray and get to eating before that turns into mush.”

  Alexa laughed and bowed her head. As she finished her prayer, the back door slapped into its frame and Tom came in. “Brr,” he shuddered, hugging himself. “It’s so cold I think I about turned into a giant Fudgesicle. But I got your vitamins”—he handed Linda a small sack—“and I stopped by the post office to check Alexa’s box. Would you believe that thing’s already collecting junk mail? But I found a letter in it, too. A fat one.” He plopped it on the table next to Alexa’s cereal bowl. “There ya go, honey-girl.”

  Alexa glanced at the envelope. Her name filled the center front, written in a precise, flowing script. The return address read Cynthia Baker Allgood, Indianapolis.

  Linda pointed at it. “You gonna read that?”

  Alexa grinned and dipped her spoon. “When I’ve finished my mush.”

  Suzanne

  Arborville

  Suzanne checked the timer on the stove. Five more minutes and the pies would be done. She bounced hot pads against her thighs, eager to take out the last two and then make her delivery to the café. By next Tuesday, Alexa would be here, taking over the pie baking. She couldn’t wait to see her girl. And not just because it meant a reprieve from baking. So much had transpired in the past three weeks. She needed to look into her daughter’s eyes and make sure Alexa was all right with the changes. Alexa had spent her entire childhood without a father. Would she resent Suzanne for marrying now that Alexa was grown?

  Anna-Grace finished scrubbing the worktable clean of the remnants of flour and fruit juices and carried the rag to the sink. As she passed Suzanne, she paused and whisked an uncertain glance at her.

  Suzanne forced a smile. “Did you need something, Anna-Grace?”

  She kept her lips pressed together, shook her head, and moved on.

  Suzanne stifled a sigh. Anna-Grace had hardly said three words since Sunday. Of course, they hadn’t been together much. Anna-Grace joined another family for lunch and visiting after church. Then she spent all day Monday at the grade school, helping Steven in the classroom. Monday evening she and Mother sat at the dining room table and worked on wedding favors while Suzanne, Paul, and Danny played a board game in the living room. She’d sensed Anna-Grace watching them, but each time she peeked, the girl quickly averted her gaze.

  Maybe she should bring up the subject that had to be tormenting her daughter. But Mother had advised her to let Anna-Grace come to her when she was ready, so Suzanne remained in tense silence, waiting for the storm to erupt.

  The stove’s timer buzzed. Suzanne turned it off, then removed the two perfectly browned apple pies. She smiled. She might not enjoy baking as much as Alexa did, but her pies smelled just as good. She set them on cooling racks and moved to the butler’s pantry to retrieve the carry containers. When she returned to the kitchen, she found Anna-Grace standing in the middle of the floor, her hands twisting her apron and her face wearing a mask of apprehension.

  “Cousin Suzy, may I…ask you something?”

  Suzanne’s heart flipped. It’s time, Lord. It’s finally time. If only Paul was here, too, to help. Let me answer her questions in a way that brings healing rather than fractures. She managed a jerky nod. “Of course. You can ask me…anything.”

  “I was surprised by what you said on Sunday. I mean, I already knew Alexa wasn’t your biological daughter. My mom and dad mentioned it around Christmastime. But they didn’t tell me you’d given up a baby for adoption.”

  Suzanne swallowed. She inched to the chairs beside the worktable and sank into one. She gestured to the other one, and Anna-Grace sat. Suzanne pressed her palms together between her knees to control her trembling. “It isn’t something I mentioned to anyone. They didn’t know, either, until recently.”

  “I see.” Anna-Grace looked to the side, worrying her lip with her teeth. “From what you said in service, you were young. And not married.” The girl’s cheeks flared with red.

  “That’s true.” Surprisingly, her voice emerged calm, devoid of embarrassment. “I made a terrible mistake, and even though God forgave me, I live with the consequences of that choice every day. I’ve encouraged Alexa to follow the Bible’s teaching and remain pure until marriage, just as I know your parents encouraged you, because it’s the best way to avoid regrets.”

  Anna-Grace nodded. She fiddled with her apron, her head low. “Didn’t you want to…to keep your baby?”

  Suzanne wished she could look into Anna-Grace’s face, but her daughter kept her head low, so far down that the tips of her cap’s ribbons touched her lap. “I wanted to, yes, but I—” She gulped. “It’s just that—”

  Mother wheeled around the corner, steely determination glinting in her eyes. She rolled her chair so close her knees bumped Anna-Grace’s, and she lifted the girl’s head with one cupped hand. “What Suzy’s trying not to tell you is that I sent her away. I made her give up her baby. I told her it would shame the whole family if people knew she had an out-of-wedlock child.” Mother sounded so blunt, so without feeling, but the quiver in her hand and the tears in her eyes communicated her remorse. “There were a whole lot of wrongs done, and most of them for the wrong reasons.” She released Anna-Grace’s chin and reached for Suzanne. “But God can take wrongs and turn them into rights. He let Suzy’s baby grow up in a loving home, and He gave Suzy her own child to love and nurture. We erred, but He was sovereign.” She met Suzanne’s gaze, her expression tender. “Yes?”

  Suzanne nodded. “Yes.” She turned to Anna-Grace. Her mouth felt dry, and she licked her lips. “Was there…anything else you wanted to know?”

  Anna-Grace sat stone still and stared into Suzanne’s face for long seconds, appearing not to even breathe. Then she sagged, her air easing out. She shook her head. “No. Nothing else.”

  Torn between relief and disappointment, Suzanne rose. “Well, then, I better get these pies loaded up and into town before they think I’m not coming.” She’d try
to find Paul when she was in town, too. She needed a hug.

  Franklin

  Alexa

  Alexa tipped the potato chunks from the cutting board into the soup pot. The potatoes covered the chunks of ham, carrots, and onions already in the pot. She still needed to cut up the cabbage and add a jar of stewed tomatoes, but they didn’t take as long to cook as the other vegetables, so she’d add the last two ingredients later. Her mouth watered, thinking about dipping her spoon into a bowl of the flavorful borscht, a recipe she borrowed from the women at the Franklin Mennonite Brethren church. She moved to the sink to rinse the cutting board and knife.

  As she turned on the spigots, Tom came in from the garage and crossed to the sink. With a grin he nudged Alexa aside with his hip. “Lemme go first.” He held up his hands. “I’m all greasy.”

  She backed away. “What were you doing out there?”

  “Puttering.” He lathered his hands with dish soap. “It keeps me out of Linda’s hair so I don’t get myself in trouble.”

  Alexa shook her head, laughing. “You might find yourself in trouble if you don’t rinse those greasy smears out of the sink.”

  With a mock look of fear, he grabbed the cleaning sponge and attacked the sink. He finished and yanked a few paper towels from the roll. As he dried his hands, he moved out of her way. He bobbed his chin at the envelope sitting at the end of the counter. “Haven’t you opened that thing yet?”

  Alexa, scrubbing potato residue from the knife, glanced at the letter and shrugged. “What’s the hurry? It’s probably like all the others that have come—useless.”

  He picked it up and pinched it, his brow puckering. “Dunno. This one’s a lot thicker than anything that’s come. And there’s something stiff inside.”

  Alexa grinned. “If you’re so curious, open it yourself.”

  He stuck his chin in the air. “Well, since you put it that way, I think I will.” He slid his thumb under the flap and pulled out several folded sheets of lined writing paper. A white rectangle fell from the folds and slid across the floor. He pinched it up and turned it over.

  Alexa shut off the spigots and set the knife aside. “What is it?”

  “A picture.” He handed it to her.

  She examined it while he unfolded the pages. The smiling faces peering up at her from the flat image reminded her of the photograph Melissa had shown her, except this couple had two children instead of one, and they were older. Still, the smiles, the element of happiness, was the same.

  She started to give it back to Tom, but something in his expression as he scanned the pages made her freeze in place. “What’s the matter?”

  Not a hint of teasing showed in his face. “Alexa, I think you better sit down and read this one.”

  Unease rippled through her. “Why?”

  “Because you should.” He held the letter toward her.

  She backed away. “No. You read it.”

  “I’ve been reading it. Now it’s your turn.”

  “You read it to me.” She was being childish. She knew it but she didn’t care. An unnamed fear gripped her, and she didn’t want to touch that letter.

  Tom’s serious demeanor softened. “Okay. Let’s get Linda in here, and I’ll read it to both of you. Is that all right?”

  Alexa sank into one of the kitchen chairs. “Okay.”

  Tom retrieved Linda from her little sewing room. She grumbled a bit as they came up the hall, but Tom’s shush ended her fussing. She sat next to Alexa, and Alexa automatically reached for her hand.

  Tom sat across from Alexa and laid the pages flat on the table. With them upside down, she couldn’t read the cursive writing, but someone had gone to a great deal of trouble penning the letter. Alexa pulled in a breath. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

  “ ‘Dear Alexa, I saw your photograph on Facebook, and I knew I had to write to you. I believe I’m your mother.’ ”

  Linda gasped. Tom sent her a short frown and went on, his deep voice almost comical as it recited the feminine prose. But Alexa focused less on his voice and more on the content.

  “ ‘When I was a young teenager, I was pretty wild. I didn’t have a very good home life, and I suppose you could say I was looking for affection in all the wrong places. I let boys do whatever they wanted, telling myself they loved me. When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t even know who’d done it. It’s embarrassing to admit that, but it’s true.

  “ ‘I couldn’t believe I really was going to have a baby. I was only fifteen—still pretty much a child. So I tried to pretend it wasn’t real. Especially when my mom and my latest stepfather didn’t even notice. They just berated me for getting so fat. One of my friends guessed the truth, though, and she promised to help me. She’s the one I went to when the pains started and I knew you were on your way. You came into the world three weeks before Christmas in my friend’s basement while her parents watched movies on television upstairs.’ ”

  Alexa tried to imagine being young, alone, and giving birth without the help of doctors or nurses. She whispered, “She must have been so scared.”

  Linda squeezed her hand.

  Tom angled a worried look at her. “Want me to go on?”

  Alexa steeled herself for what would come next and nodded.

  Tom lifted the pages again. “ ‘We didn’t have blankets or diapers or little sleepers, but my friend got out an old beach towel. We used it to clean you up as best we could. Then I wrapped you in the towel and held you. And cried. I’d never seen anybody so small and helpless. I had no idea what to do for you. You cried, and I cried, and finally we both fell asleep.

  “ ‘When I woke up, it was morning. My friend said as soon as her parents left for work, I’d have to go home, but I hated my home. I didn’t even want to live there. Why would I take an innocent baby into it? But there wasn’t anywhere else for me to go. I started crying again. That’s when my friend told me about a place in Indianapolis where pregnant, unmarried girls went and had their babies.’ ”

  Alexa jolted. “The home for unwed mothers…”

  Tom nodded soberly before continuing. “ ‘My friend called her boyfriend, and he picked us up. He drove us to the street where the home was located and let us out in the alley so nobody at the home would see his car. I wanted to leave you on the back stoop, where you’d be found right away, but my friend said it was more likely someone would catch me. She said I’d get in terrible trouble if anyone saw me. So, instead, she laid you in a box her boyfriend had in the backseat, and she told me to put you behind the garage. She reasoned someone would come out there eventually.

  “ ‘It was so cold that morning. I made sure the towel was tucked in really well, and I pushed the box close to the garage door where the wind would be blocked. My friend wanted to leave right away, but I wouldn’t go. I hid behind some bushes and watched. And waited.’ ”

  “Just like Moses’s sister in the Bible. Remember?”

  Tom went on as if Linda hadn’t interrupted, seemingly absorbed by the tale. “ ‘If somebody didn’t come, I was going to take you to the back door, no matter what my friend said. But someone came. A young woman wearing an Amish cap took you out of the box and carried you into the garage. That’s when it really hit me what I was doing. I was giving up my baby. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t take you home. It didn’t matter that I had no way to take care of you—I wanted you. And I tried to go to you and get you back, but I was so weak. My friend held on to me. She kept saying we were going to get in trouble. She dragged me back to her boyfriend’s car, and he drove us away.

  “ ‘My friend told me I shouldn’t worry. She said the people at the home would find a good family for you. After a few days I accepted she was right. I told myself you were better off with someone else. I stopped thinking about trying to get you back again. But I never stopping thinking about you, wondering about you, wishing I could know you.’ ”

  Something tickled Alexa’s cheek. She touched her fingers to the spo
t and realized she was crying. Crying…for Mom, who’d never stopped thinking about, wondering about, wishing she could know the baby girl she’d given away. And for her birth mother.

  Linda slipped her arm around Alexa’s shoulders. “Honey-girl, you wanna stop?”

  Tom held up the letter. “There’s just a little bit more. We can wait if you want.”

  Alexa shook her head. “No. Finish it.” She closed her eyes, images of Mom and the woman from the photograph flashing in her mind as Tom read.

  “ ‘Before I became a Christian, I hoped to find you someday. Then after I came to know Jesus as my Savior, my hopes became prayers. Especially when my other children were born, I longed for you, my firstborn. Every December third for the past fifteen years I’ve closed myself away and spent time praying for you, asking God to guide and protect you and someday let me see you again.

  “ ‘For Christmas this year, my husband hired a private investigator to find you so I could finally tell you how you came to be in that alley and ask you to forgive me for leaving you that way.’ ”

  Alexa choked back a sob. She pressed her fist to her mouth and waited for Tom to finish.

  “ ‘If you are the baby girl I left behind the garage, please know you have a thirteen-year-old half sister named Darcy and an eleven-year-old half brother named Barrett, who are eager to meet you, too. I’m married to Glenn, a fine Christian man, a loving husband, and an amazing father. Even though he isn’t your father, he wants to know you and be your friend. Just so you understand, I’m not asking to be your mother, Alexa. I gave up that right a long time ago, but I pray we can be friends someday.’ ”

  Tom stopped, and Alexa opened her eyes. “Is that all?”

  He shook his head. “She gives her phone number and an address where you can reach her, then there’s a postscript. ‘I enclosed a photograph. Please look at Darcy and me. We have a little something in common with you.’ ”

  Puzzled, Alexa reached for the photograph. Linda squeezed in, squinting at the image while Alexa held it up. Linda released a little squawk. “Honey-girl, look at that! All three of you have a beauty mark above your lip.”