by Sharon Sala
There was a slight smile on her face as she dropped the phone back in her pocket. “But you’re not the first,” she muttered, and looked up to see Lon hurrying out of the store carrying a Styrofoam cup.
“Here,” he said, thrusting it into her hands. “It’s hot chocolate from the deli. It’ll warm you from the inside out, and be careful. It’s always a little too hot at the start.”
“Thank you,” she said, curling her fingers around the warm cup. “Oooh, that feels so good.”
Lon hoped the grin on his face wasn’t as goofy as he felt. “It tastes pretty good too. So, I’d be happy to show you the way to the Talbot farm, if you don’t hear back soon.”
“Oh, Duke sent a text while you were in the store. He’s on his way.”
Lon nodded. “Then he won’t be long. It’s not far from here and pretty easy to find.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s interesting, since Duke insisted it was too difficult to tell me how to get there and said he needed to guide me instead.”
Lon didn’t know how to respond, but he didn’t want her arrival to get off on a bad start. “Well, he may be right in one respect because there aren’t street signs or the like. Just some numbered roads put in place when the 911 system was installed a few years back to give ambulances and fire trucks a way to locate their destinations. I imagine it would be confusing for newcomers.”
Mercy took a quick sip of her hot chocolate, and when she licked the foam off of her upper lip, Lon took a deep breath.
Lord have mercy. Quit staring at her, you fool. And then he exhaled slowly as the little cloud of condensation around his face dispersed.
As he glanced toward Main Street, he saw Duke’s black Dodge 4x4 driving into the parking lot. “Here he comes now,” he said, pointing.
Mercy shivered with excitement. She was that much closer to meeting her sister.
* * *
Duke frowned when he saw the police chief talking to Mercy and then chided himself. She had every right to speak to whomever she chose, and it was expected that Pittman might speak to her, considering they already knew each other.
He got out with a smile on his face and came toward her in long swift strides. He was about to open his arms and give her a welcoming hug when he caught the shift in her gaze and her body language. So this was as far as he dared to go. “Hello, Mercy! I hope your ride here was uneventful.”
“It was fine,” Mercy said.
Duke turned to acknowledge Lon’s presence. “Chief. Good to see you.”
“And you,” Lon said. “Give my best to Hope and Jack.” Then he winked at Mercy. “I’ll be seeing you around.”
Mercy watched him get back in the cruiser and drive away, then took one last drink of the hot chocolate and dumped it in the trash. “Okay. I’m ready,” she said. “Lead the way.”
“I won’t go too fast,” he said.
“If you go too slow, I’ll likely run over you,” Mercy said.
Duke looked a little startled, then quickly got into the truck and left the parking lot with Mercy behind him.
* * *
Hope woke slowly, giving herself time to think about moving, and then she saw the blue box sitting at the foot of her bed. Anxious to revisit her childhood keepsakes, she shoved aside the covers and pulled it close to where she was sitting.
Originally, the box was with her and Mercy when the police took them to the station from the scene of their mother’s murder, and it went with them when a man from social services took them to their first foster home. It went with them from home to home until Hope was adopted. At that point, it went to her new home. Early on, it had been the source of much conflict until June, her adoptive mother, angrily put it away in the attic.
Hope never saw it again and had almost forgotten it ever existed, and then June had it sent with their wedding presents when she and Jack got married. Even though she’d seen it among the boxes when she moved, she had never looked at it again. But today she hoped for inspiration—something that might be familiar to Mercy.
She reached for the scissors. One snip, and the cords were lying loose upon the bedspread. She lifted the lid, laid it aside, and pulled out the tissue paper.
There was a note lying on top of the contents. She felt a little twinge of regret when she recognized her adoptive mother’s handwriting, then scanned the note and sighed. June knew Hope had never forgiven them for leaving Baby Girl behind and had tried to make amends.
I knew you would want these. I’m sorry for your heartaches. Make beautiful memories with your Jack. We love you.
She wondered if her mother had expected her to respond to this note? If so, Hope had missed her chance because both of her parents were gone. She lost her father in an accident, and then her mother three years later from a heart attack. She had loved them and grieved their passing, but the ache for the sister she’d lost had been ever-present until today.
Today that was coming to an end.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the large picture book lying on top. The Velveteen Rabbit. It was the last gift her birth mother, Maria, had given her before she was murdered. She opened the book and traced her mother’s handwriting with the tip of her finger.
For Hope. Happy 8th birthday, sweet girl.
Hope took a slow, shaky breath. Not for the first time, she wondered what their lives would have been like if her mother had lived.
She laid the book aside and sifted through a couple of Valentine cards, a geode someone had given her, and then she picked up something wrapped in tissue paper. She unwrapped it, and when she realized what it was, she started to cry.
It was her little sister’s rag doll. The yarn hair used to be yellow but was the color of dirty dishwater now, and the little pink dress was in tatters. She’d been horrified the day she went home with her new parents and found out their foster mother had accidentally put Baby Girl’s doll with her things. She’d begged them to take her back so she could give it to her, but they wouldn’t. Then she’d begged them to adopt her too, but again, they would not. Hope couldn’t remember much about that time except sorrow.
She tried to smooth the doll’s hair, but it was hopeless, and the dress had nearly rotted away. “Poor Dolly,” Hope said, and laid it aside.
The last item in the box was the photo, and seeing it still hurt. Mother had been so pretty, and it was what got her killed.
“We looked like her,” Hope said.
Even as children it was easy to see. One child was leaning against her leg, the younger one was in her arms—both smaller versions of Maria Dane.
Hope glanced at the clock and repacked everything except the picture and Mercy’s doll. It had been a long time coming, but today she was giving it back. She left the box for Jack to take back to the attic, then went into the bathroom to wash.
Jack was waiting for her when she came out. “Hey, honey, how do you feel after your nap?”
“I’m okay, just sore. Thank you for bringing the box down.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, and gave her a quick kiss. “Are you ready to meet your sister?”
Hope gasped. “Is she here?”
“Duke went into Blessings to meet her, and they’re on their way home.”
“Oh no! I look terrible, and it’s nearly noon and…”
“You look wonderful. You’re alive, and you’re home, and I’ve already made some food.”
Hope leaned her head against Jack’s chest. Ever since she’d known him, just when she thought the world would overwhelm her, he came through for her every time. “Thank you, my Jack. The best thing that ever happened to me was you.”
“In sickness and in health, honey, all the way,” Jack said. “Let’s go to the living room to wait, okay?”
She grabbed the picture and the doll and let him walk her down the hall into the living room. She set the dol
l and the picture on an end table, but she was too jumpy to sit down and moved to the window instead. “I’m scared,” she said.
“It’s going to be okay. You’ll see,” Jack said, and then heard Duke’s truck coming down the drive and looked out the window. “They’re here.”
“I don’t want to wait. Let’s go out to meet them!”
“I don’t think you should—”
“Please!” she said, holding out her hand.
He nodded, then steadied her steps as they went onto the porch together.
* * *
Mercy couldn’t help but check out the countryside on the way to the Talbot farm. The roads were blacktop, and the houses they passed were mostly ordinary homes. Some were brick, some double-wide trailers, but the ones she liked best were the older two-story frame houses with wide front porches and gingerbread cutouts.
As she rode, she made a mental note of each turn Duke took so that she wouldn’t depend on anyone to find her way around. When she realized he was about to turn from the blacktop onto a one-lane driveway, she slowed down to follow.
The drive was bordered on both sides by Georgia pines and curved to the left before it straightened out. She saw the house, and then the barns and fences and sheds spread out around it. It was postcard perfect—a two-story house straight out of the early 1900s, gleaming snow-white against the winter landscape. Wooden and wicker furniture graced the wraparound porch, and a green, winter-themed wreath hung on the front door. The family farm Duke had mentioned was Christmas card quaint, right down to the small herd of cattle in the pasture behind the house.
As Duke parked, Mercy pulled up beside him and killed the engine. The front door opened as she untied her duffel bag, and when she turned to look, Jack and her sister walked out onto the porch.
Breath caught in the back of her throat—her heart started to pound. She left the bag on the bike and walked toward the porch, and the closer she got, the shakier she became.
My sister? Obviously, still healing. Hope?
She looked as nervous as Mercy felt.
When Mercy started up the steps, Hope pushed away from Jack and went to meet her.
Mercy took a deep breath. The only memory she had from her childhood was a girl with dark hair who had cuddled her when she cried. Was this her?
Hope.
“My Baby Girl,” Hope whispered, and opened her arms.
The name echoed in Mercy’s memory as she walked into Hope’s arms, remembering just in time not to hold her too tight. Hope went from hugging her to cupping her face with both hands. “Look at you! Just look at you, Mercy! You look just like Mama. So beautiful. So very beautiful!”
“You remember our mother?” Mercy asked.
The shock of that question rolled through Hope as she took Mercy by the hand. “Oh, honey. Come inside with me. There is so much we have to talk about.”
Jack was in tears as he walked in behind them, while Duke picked up Mercy’s bag from the Harley and followed them into the house.
Chapter 9
“Duke, please take Mercy’s bag to her room,” Hope said.
“We’re going to leave you two alone,” Jack said. “I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up dinner. If you need anything, just call out.”
Hope eased herself onto the sofa and then patted the seat beside her. Mercy took off the leather bomber jacket and straightened the sweatshirt she had on under it as she sat.
Hope couldn’t quit staring. There was the birthmark. And she was wearing Mama’s face, but without a smile. Yes, Mercy was stunning, but she felt the wall between them and was uncertain if it had to do with what life had done to her or resentment from Hope’s abandonment.
“There’s something I have to say first,” Hope said, and reached for Mercy’s hand. “I begged my adoptive parents to take me back to you, but they wouldn’t. I begged them to adopt you, but they wouldn’t. I’m sorry you were left behind. I’m so, so sorry.”
Mercy shrugged. “We were children. Children without a voice. It wasn’t your fault.”
Hope was sick. The damage was worse than she’d feared. She couldn’t bear the matter-of-fact tone in Mercy’s voice.
Desperate to tap into emotion, she reached behind her and picked up the photo and handed it to Mercy. Mercy’s eyes widened. “Is this our mother?”
“Yes. You look just like her.”
“I don’t remember her,” Mercy said.
“You were so little when she was killed.”
Mercy frowned. “How did she die?”
“Our father killed her in a fit of jealousy.”
Mercy frowned again. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Men were always noticing her. Even though it wasn’t her fault, it made him crazy.”
“Where is he now?”
“He died in prison.”
Mercy handed the photo back to Hope.
Hope sighed. Nothing but a frown. She had one more card to play and reached for the rag doll. “I’ve been waiting to give this back to you ever since they took me away. Our foster mother accidentally put it with my things, but it was yours.”
When Mercy saw the doll in Hope’s hands, the first word that popped in her mind was “Dolly?”
Hope’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered the doll’s name. “Yes, that’s what you called her.”
Mercy suddenly saw a doll floating facedown and felt a momentary sadness. “Dolly drowned.”
“Yes. She fell in the bathtub, and Mrs. Hooper wouldn’t let you sleep with her because the sheets would get wet. You cried yourself to sleep in my arms.”
Mercy nodded.
Hope could tell Mercy was uncomfortable, and while this was a disappointing reunion, she was elated that she’d been found. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Mercy reached across the space between them and took Hope’s hand. “I’m so glad I was close enough to make that happen. I know all of this is fate’s way of giving me a second chance at life too, and don’t think I’m not grateful. I wanted to belong to someone my whole life, but I don’t know how to belong to a family yet. I don’t know how to belong to anyone. Give me time, okay?”
Hope gave Mercy’s hand a quick squeeze. “We have all the time you need. I’m just so grateful you’ve been found.”
Mercy finally smiled, and Hope relaxed. It was past noon, and she could smell corn bread. She guessed Jack had just taken it out of the oven. “I hope you’re hungry. Jack has food ready. Why don’t you go up and check out your room, wash up, and follow your nose back downstairs to the kitchen?”
“It smells good,” Mercy said.
“Your bedroom is the first door on the left after you get upstairs. It has an adjoining bathroom, and Jack has been getting everything ready for you, but if he’s forgotten anything, please let me know.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Mercy said as she stood. “I won’t be long.”
Hope watched Mercy start toward the stairs, and then she paused and turned around. “Did you sing to me?” she asked.
Hope nodded. “Every night when we went to sleep.”
“‘You Are My Sunshine’?”
“Oh my God, yes!” Hope said, and started to cry. “I sang you to sleep every night because it was the song Mother sang to us.”
Mercy went back to Hope and knelt in front of her. “All these years, I didn’t know I belonged to a family. I thought there was just me. How did I forget this? How did I forget you?”
Hope cupped Mercy’s face with both hands. “You weren’t quite three years old and barely potty-trained. You sucked your thumb and were afraid of everything. The police thought you witnessed the murder, but there was no way to know. All I knew was that you cried if I was out of your sight. It was part of why my adoptive parents wouldn’t take you. They didn’t want a child with emotional issues. I still haven�
��t forgiven them for that.”
“Are they still alive?” Mercy asked.
“No.”
Mercy saw the shadows in Hope’s eyes. “I’m so sorry you were hurt. I’m so sorry you’ve carried such a burden,” she said.
Hope kept patting Mercy’s arm and then her face. “We’re together now, and that’s all that matters. We belong to each other, Baby Girl, and don’t you ever forget it,” Hope said.
Mercy was in tears, but the words wouldn’t come, and it was Jack who ended the moment with a shout from the kitchen. “Dinner in five minutes!”
Hope kissed Mercy on the cheek and then reluctantly let her go. “You heard the man. Go check out your room. We’ll be in the kitchen.”
Mercy gave her a quick hug and left on the run.
Hope watched Mercy leaving the room, then those long legs of hers taking steps two at a time as she ran up the stairs. In her mind, she saw their mother and not her sister. Mercy wasn’t the only one who had adjustments to make.
Mercy walked into what would be her bedroom for the time she was here. The walls were a soft lilac with white sheer curtains at the windows. The bedspread was white with splashes of yellow and lilac, and the area rug over the gleaming hardwood floors was a deeper shade of yellow. Her bags, even the ones Duke brought the night before, were all inside the walk-in closet, leaving her to empty the contents where she chose.
She backed out of the closet to check out the adjoining bathroom. Walls were painted in the same pale lilac as the bedroom, with white subway tiles in the shower, and a white jetted tub beside it. The bright yellow rugs and stool cover matched the area rug in the bedroom, and when she noticed the handmade soaps in the dish were yellow and lilac, she grinned. It was the girly room she’d always wanted and never had.
Hope did good. This was a welcome to remember.
Then she remembered they were waiting and quickly washed up, brushed her hair, and added lip gloss. She saw cookies on a table by the bedroom window as she went to get a band to tie back her hair.
Chocolate chip. One of her favorites. She fixed her hair, then picked up a cookie, eating it on her way back downstairs.