Remember the Lilies

by Liz Tolsma

  “Including fraternizing with the enemy?”

  Irene’s words struck Mercedes in the heart like a knife. “It wasn’t like that. Not at all. We talked. He brought me food when he could. He was kind to my son. Nothing more.”

  “You’re right. I don’t understand a mother’s love. But I’ve watched you with Paulo these past three years. A mother’s love is powerful. I don’t blame you for wanting to do what you could to help you and your son survive this awful place. You have tenacity.”

  Mercedes rubbed her palms together. “Do you think we could ever be friends again?”

  “Rand talked to me about forgiveness. How God expects us to forgive and forget. It doesn’t come easily to me.” Irene shifted her feet back and forth.

  “I’m sorry. For whatever it’s worth, I wish I would have believed you over him.”

  Irene gave a tentative smile.

  Mercedes reciprocated, her shoulders lighter than they had been in a long time. “Thank you. We can see each other sometimes in America?”

  Irene shook her head, a shadow falling across her fair face. “I plan on staying in Manila and opening Byaya Children’s Center like I always wanted.”

  “And what about Rand?”

  “He’ll be here too. I don’t know what will happen to us. This freedom is all so new. He’s mentioned that he wants to work with me.”

  “What about your heart?”

  “I love him. And I’m beginning to believe that it’s me he loves, not Catherine. We’ll wait and see what God plans for us.”

  Irene swept Mercedes into her arms, and they hugged for a good long time. Mercedes relished the feeling. Peace.

  Gunfire once again interrupted the morning. Peace on the inside, at least.

  “I’m going to miss you.” Irene stood and brushed off her skirt.

  “But we part as friends. I could ask for nothing more.” Mercedes couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.

  Rand bounded from his shanty. The sun beat down even at this early hour, but it only brightened his mood. He had a surprise for Irene and couldn’t wait to share it with her. He had told her to be ready first thing.

  And there she was, sitting on the step in front of the Main Building, the sun coloring her hair red and yellow. She had on a new red dress this morning and looked beautiful.

  She greeted him with a peck on his cheek, as light as a breeze. “I couldn’t sleep all night, wondering what this surprise might be.”

  He motioned to an Army jeep idling on the drive, a private at the wheel. “Your chariot, mademoiselle.”

  Her sparkling blue eyes widened. “We’re leaving this place? You’re taking me out?”

  “It frustrated me that it took me this long to locate Armando and arrange for transportation, but we’re going to see him. I’m desperate to find out how he’s doing. I pray the food I was able to get to him was enough. And that he survived the bombing.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

  “Armando is important to me. You’re important to me. It’s time you two get to know each other.”

  He held the jeep’s door for her and jumped in the back with her. They moved out of the gates for the first time in over three years without fear, breathing free air. A smile dawned on Irene’s face. “We’re out.”

  “And we don’t have to worry about getting caught. We can go anywhere we want.”

  “That’s safely in American hands, you mean.”

  He directed the driver through Manila’s streets. Wherever they looked, they found destruction. The great churches had been heavily damaged, the steeples torn off, the beautiful carvings and reliefs pocked with bullet holes. The shops, once bustling with patrons, now were filled with rubble. Even the humble homes of the average citizen, small, much like their huts at Santo Tomas, were now piles of smoldering sawali mats.

  The driver swerved often to avoid pieces of concrete and gaping holes in the road. With the lack of landmarks, Rand had a difficult time finding his way. They turned from the commercial part of the city into a residential area.

  Beside him, Irene gasped. Craters yawned where homes had stood. Rand gripped the edge of the seat. What would they find when they got to Armando’s house?

  Irene rubbed her eyes. “All of these people? What has happened to them?”

  “If they survived, many have likely been reduced to begging. They’ve lost what little they had.”

  They passed a group of children dressed in rags, sifting through rubble, searching for something. Their faces were thin and peaked, their arms and legs nothing more than sticks.

  Rand’s heart clenched. The children spied the jeep and ran alongside. “Mister, you have money?”

  “Stop the jeep.” Rand got out, Irene behind him. “Where are your parents?”

  The oldest of the group shrugged. “A few days ago they went to get food. They don’t come back.”

  Irene touched Rand’s arm. “We have to do something for them.”

  “I don’t have any money.” He had been reduced to much the same state as these kids, at least until he got access to his funds in Taiwan. “Private, what do you have?”

  The young man rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a wrinkled dollar bill. “It’s my last until payday.”

  “Good. You don’t need to spend it at the bars.” Rand took the money and handed it to the oldest boy. “I wish it was more. When I have some money, I’ll come back to help you.”

  “You promise, mister?”

  “I promise.”

  The boy grinned, dirt in the creases around his cheeks.

  “Go get food for you and your brothers and sisters.”

  The kids scurried away toward the main road.

  “What am I supposed to live on until payday?” The soldier stood with legs apart and arms crossed.

  “What are those kids supposed to live on for the foreseeable future?”

  Irene hugged him. “Thank you.”

  Rand shook his head. “It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. And there are hundreds, maybe even thousands, like them.”

  “We’ll be back. We’ll help them.”

  He gazed at her, her cheeks red. Did she realize she spoke in the plural? As in, the two of them? Oh, the joy to have her by his side as he worked to restore his city. To have her in his life forever. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like, but he sure wanted to find out.

  Soon afterward, they came to Armando’s neighborhood. Rand breathed a sigh when he saw the houses all standing. He instructed the driver to stop the jeep, then helped Irene out.

  “This is it.”

  “It’s nice, Rand.”

  And it was. A small stucco home, two stories, with glass in the two windows on each level. A row of lilies bloomed for all it was worth.

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Look at the flowers.”

  Rand smiled and squeezed her hand back. He understood.

  “I’ve been praying for Armando.”

  “As have I. I just hope …”

  “No reason to stand out here and hope. Let’s knock and find out.”

  He loved this no-nonsense woman. “Come on.” They approached the door and announced their presence.

  A stooped, gray-haired man answered the door. He looked them over. “May I help you?”

  Rand would recognize that face anywhere, despite the deepness of the wrinkles and hollowness of the cheeks. “Don’t you know me?”

  Armando studied him more, then clasped his hands. “If it isn’t my boy Rand. Praise the Lord, look at you, so thin. Come out of the sun. And you have a beautiful woman here too.”

  Rand glanced between the two people he loved most in the world. “Armando, this is Irene. I met her at Santo Tomas and she has, well, I can’t begin to describe to you all she’s done for me. Most importantly, she helped me see my need for the Lord.”

  Tears streamed down the weathered old face. “Like Simeon when he saw the Christ child, I can now
die in peace.”

  Fear prickled Rand’s skin. “Don’t say that. I’ve been praying for many more years for you.”

  Armando led the way to a small, tiled living area, the furniture worn, the place spotless. “None of us knows when He will call us home. I’m an old man, and this war has been hard on me.”

  “Didn’t Ramon bring you the rice and beans?”

  “He did. But it’s more than the physical hardships. It breaks my heart to see what has become of my city and the evil that men inflict on each other. I am ready to be gone from this place. But no more talk of that. Let’s enjoy whatever time the Lord gives us.”

  Rand couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.

  Irene stepped from Armando’s home, back into the sunshine, her arm linked with Rand’s. “I now understand why you were so desperate to see after him. He’s a wonderful, godly man. You are blessed to have him in your life. Thank you for including me today.”

  Rand looked up, shielding his eyes with his right hand, the fingers stiff. “I didn’t always realize how lucky I was to have him in my life, caring for me when my parents weren’t there. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve appreciated him more. His job didn’t include taking care of me. I had an amah for that. But he took me under his wing when I was giving my amah a difficult time and gave me direction.”

  “It’s been one of the best days of my life.” She couldn’t remember a time when she was happier, when she was more at peace.

  Rand stopped before they reached the jeep. He wiped his hands on his pair of hand-me-down trousers. The driver had gone off somewhere or another. He couldn’t be far. Lines appeared in Rand’s forehead. “I know you have questions about Catherine and Melanie. I’ve made my decision to respect her wishes. If Melanie wants to know me at some point in the future, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But I don’t love Catherine. I love you.”

  Irene held her breath. He loved her. And her heart answered in kind. The Lord had torn down every roadblock in their path. He had prepared the way for her to Rand and a life with him.

  And when Rand stopped earlier to help those children, they had torn at her soul. They were little, the oldest not more than twelve, fending for themselves in a war-torn city. How would they survive? They needed someone to take care of them, to provide for them.

  And she wanted to be that person. She hated the thought of them on the streets. That was no life for a child. She’d had Anita. Now she could turn and help other parentless children. And that’s what Rand wanted too.

  Most of all, they could do it together. They could work side by side all day and spend the nights with each other, too, for the rest of their lives. If she had Rand and God, she would be the richest woman in the world. Nothing could compare to that.

  She released her breath little by little. “I love you too.”

  His brown eyes shone like the Philippine Sea. “You love me?”

  “I do.”

  “You won’t be marrying the most successful nightclub owner in the Orient.”

  “I don’t need to. I need you. That’s all.”

  He pulled her close, and his heart throbbed in his chest. Hers answered his beat for beat.

  “I want you to work with me. Together we can make a difference.”

  She nodded but wanted so much more than working beside him. “We can.”

  He brushed his lips across her cheek. She warmed through.

  “I want to have you by my side always. Not just working with me but as my wife. I can’t imagine my future without you.” He knelt there on the scarred street, her hand in his. She bit back the bubble of joy that rose inside her.

  “Irene Reynolds, be mine, until the end of time, now wouldn’t that be fine?”

  She knelt beside him and nodded. “That is why I love you. Yes, yes, yes. I would be honored to be your wife.”

  They laughed together and hugged, falling to the ground.

  The driver picked that moment to return. “What’s going on here?”

  Irene stood, brushing the dirt from her knees. “I said yes.”

  “I’m the luckiest man on the planet.” Rand bent and picked a singular white flower from the stalk by Armando’s front door. He held it out to her. “I don’t have a ring, but until I can get one, will this do?” He stuck the flower behind her ear.

  “It most certainly will.”

  And he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard, his kiss full of hope and promise for the future.

  A future Irene couldn’t wait to start.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  According to records, there were only two escape attempts made from Santo Tomas during the more than three years of captivity, both in the early months. During the first attempt, three men were captured and executed. The following day, one made it to freedom. Rand’s attempt is purely fictitious.

  According to the camp doctors, not a single woman died of starvation at Santo Tomas, though some died of other diseases. Anita’s death, then, would have been an anomaly.

  There was a Filipino man, Luis de Alcuaz, who worked at the university and had a relationship with the Japanese. They would drive him into the compound to work. The briefcase on his lap would often be loaded with currency for the internee committee to purchase rice and other staples. Once inflation became so high that he could no longer bring in enough cash without arousing suspicion, he began smuggling in rice, beans, and tinned meat through a hole in the wall between his office and the gymnasium.

  The Japanese often brought in food and spoiled it in front of the internees for fun. While it did happen, there is no evidence that it happened on the day mentioned in the story.

  Mother Superior at Hospicio de Santiago was a real person, a Frenchwoman by birth. She was just as described—calm, unflappable, and would do anything to protect the Americans under her care. She suffered from a painful leg condition that partially disabled her. During her tenure, the Japanese discovered no Americans during their occasional raids, though Mother Superior did hide American soldiers at Santiago Hospital. The incident with Mr. Jennings is pure fiction.

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  1. Which character resonates with you the most? Why?

  2. What do the lilies represent?

  3. How does Rand change from the beginning of the book to the end? What precipitates the change?

  4. Was Mercedes justified in trusting the Japanese guard? Why or why not?

  5. What effect did Rand’s and Irene’s secrets have on their relationship?

  6. Would you have bowed to the Japanese soldiers? Why or why not?

  7. What was Frank Covey’s motivation for blackmailing both Rand and Irene?

  8. What do Rand and Irene discover is the hardest part of forgiveness?

  9. Who was more headstrong and foolish—Rand or Irene? Why?

  10. What gave Anita her courage and strength? What has given you courage and strength in a difficult situation?

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  While an author often feels that she leads a very isolated life, always chained to her computer, that is not the case. A novel cannot be born without the help of many talented people. A very special thank-you to Sascha Jansen. Your unique insight on Santo Tomas Internment Camp, actually living these events, was beyond helpful. I’m so glad we share the same vision of recording this period of history as accurately as possible. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. It’s an experience I will never forget. I would like to thank my critique partner, Diana Brandmeyer. You always push me to be the best I can be. I appreciate your encouragement and support. Thank you to my fabulous agent, Tamela Hancock Murray. It’s good to know you’re always on the other end of the line or the computer when I have a question. Thank you for cheering me on for all of these years. Thank you to the amazing team at HarperCollins Christian/Thomas Nelson. Becky Philpott, I have so enjoyed working with you and getting to know you. Your faith in me is a great encouragement. Julee Schwarzburg, I could not ask for a better editor. I’ve
taken to channeling you when I write! Your gentle but forthright manner is spot-on. Elizabeth Hudson, you are a joy to work with. Thank you for catching my vision and translating it into an amazing marketing plan. Daisy Hutton, I owe you so much for taking a chance on these books and making them a reality. Thank you also to Jodi Hughes and Katie Bond. You ladies are an invaluable part of my team. To the outstanding group at Litfuse Publicity, thank you for all of your hard work. Amy and Elizabeth, my hat’s off to you. You are social media geniuses! To my husband, Doug, God gave me the most incredible gift when He gave me you. You must get sick of frozen pizza for dinner and overflowing laundry baskets, but you don’t complain. Thank you for your love and support. It means the world to me. And thank you to my wonderful children. Brian, you are great at promoting my books. Are you sure you don’t want to join my marketing team? Alyssa, your domestic skills amaze me. Thank you for being willing to step in and make dinner, watch your sister, and do a hundred other things when I’m on deadline. This family wouldn’t function nearly as well without you. And, Jonalyn, thank you for being your sweet and loving self and reminding me that there are things more important in this world than others. Thank you, Mom, for being such a great beta reader. I appreciate your good eye and your kind words. Dad, thank you for inspiring me to work as hard as possible. Thank you to my influencers, endorsers, and street team. I owe you all a debt of gratitude. And above all, Soli Deo Gloria.

  AN EXCERPT FROM

  THE BUTTERFLY AND THE VIOLIN

  by Kristy Cambron

  Chapter One

  PRESENT DAY, NEW YORK CITY

  Is this it?”

  Sera James bounded through the front doors of the Manhattan gallery, so excited that she nearly slipped for running across the hardwood floor in her heels. She came to a flustered stop in front of the large canvas hanging on the back wall. Breathless, she asked, “You’ve confirmed—this is her?”

  “Did you run all the way here, Sera?”

  “Yes. Wouldn’t you?” She wasn’t ashamed to admit it. From the second she’d received the phone call, Sera had pushed and shoved her way off the subway in a frenzy and had run the eight blocks back to the gallery, dodging taxis and cracks in the sidewalks all the way.