When Mercy Rains

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  “Suzanne!” Grandmother raised her voice, nearly shouting. “I want my coffee.”

  Mom placed the mug in Grandmother’s waiting hands. “Here you are, Mother. Be careful. It’s hot.”

  “It’s supposed to be hot. Don’t treat me like an imbecile.” Grandmother took a sip, grimaced, then shrugged and finally looked at Mom. Alexa expected her to offer a thank-you, but she said, “My legs are cramping. Do you know how to massage cramping muscles?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then do it. My toes are starting to curl.” She zipped her glare at Alexa. “There’s no need for you to stay in here and watch your mother play nurse. Go explore. Read a book. Hang towels with Tanya.”

  Alexa had never been so rudely dismissed. Her face burned.

  Grandmother added in a surprisingly gentle voice, “You’ve spent enough of your day stuck in a room with a crotchety old lady. So go.”

  Alexa looked at Mom, asking with her expression, Should I? Mom gave a slight nod. Alexa sighed. She headed for the door, then stopped next to her mother. “When you’re finished here, please come find me. I really do need to talk to you about something important.”

  “Your mother will be spending her day with me, Alexa, so you’ll have to entertain yourself.” Grandmother sipped her coffee, her bearing as regal as a queen’s. “Before you go, though, do you see the small drawer on the right-hand side of my dressing table?”

  While sitting in the corner earlier, Alexa had admired Grandmother’s antique dressing table with its oval mirror, tiny side drawers, and teardrop door pulls. She nodded.

  “Open it and take out what’s inside.”

  Alexa slid the little drawer open. The space was empty except for a wadded handkerchief. Puzzled, she picked it up. The layers of linen held an oddly shaped lump that gave it a heft she didn’t expect. Alexa carried the little package to the bed and held it out.

  Grandmother shook her head. “I don’t want it. I want you to take it. Call it a … belated birthday gift.”

  A rumpled old handkerchief? Somehow it seemed an appropriate gift.

  “Your mother is going to massage my legs now, so go on.” Grandmother raised her mug again and shifted her gaze toward the window.

  Cradling the handkerchief in her hand, Alexa left the room. Mom closed the door behind her, leaving her in the dining room with the mutter of voices behind her and continuing bangs and thumps waiting in the kitchen. She scuffed her way to the front room where a shaft of sunshine poured through the window and highlighted thousands of tiny dust particles. She passed through the sunlight, sending the particles scattering, and sank onto the sofa.

  Curiosity overcame her. What had Grandmother stored all by itself in the little drawer? She peeled back one flap of the handkerchief. A chain made of thick links slipped from the wadded fabric and drooped all the way to her lap. What on earth … She pinched the end of the chain and pulled it free of the handkerchief. The wispy square of cloth with its tiny pink embroidered flowers fell to the floor, and she gasped.

  Suspended on the glistening chain, a round gold locket as big as a quarter caught the light and tossed it back. The shiny disk rotated on the chain, giving Alexa a glimpse of etching on the other side. She laid the locket flat on her palm and examined the filigreed markings. She recognized the letters, the center one representing Zimmerman larger than those flanking it—AZJ. Her grandmother’s monogram. Her monogram.

  Her heart turned a flip inside her chest. She covered her mouth with her trembling fingers. What kind of game was Grandmother playing?

  Paul

  Paul pried the final cabinet loose with a downward thrust of his crowbar. Nails screeched like angry cats and released their hold on the wall. He dropped the crowbar onto the floor to catch the sturdy box before it fell onto the countertop. He carried it to the porch and set it on the floor with the others. Straightening, he wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve. Crisp air eased through the porch’s screened walls, and he paused for a moment to enjoy what Karina used to call the kiss of spring.

  His gaze drifted across the row of cabinets. He’d been pleased to discover they were identical in size, each fifteen inches wide by twenty-eight inches tall. Reassembling them on the floor as one large unit—four across and two high—would allow Mrs. Zimmerman to have access to every shelf. Clete had readily accepted the suggestion to reuse the existing cabinetry. And why toss them out? They were solid yellow pine, built by a craftsman who took pride in his labor. Once Paul placed them on a short platform and added decorative molding, no one would ever guess they were made-overs.

  Of course, he’d need to apply another coat of paint to make the cabinets look truly new. Unfortunately his crowbar had left some scratches and dings in the wood. But a little filler, sanding, and paint would fix them up again. He found great satisfaction in taking something worn out and giving it new life. Additionally, refurbishing old-but-still-usable items saved money and time, which made him a good steward. Being a good steward earned respect in his community.

  He turned to go back inside, but he caught sight of someone walking along the clothesline. Tanya had driven away in Clete’s truck only a few minutes ago, so who was out there? The sheets waving gently on the line hid all but the person’s feet. He watched the steady progress of white-and-pink tennis shoes worn over anklet socks until the wearer emerged on the other side of the clothesline. Ah, Suzy’s daughter, Alexa.

  The girl moved slowly across the yard toward the barn, her head low. She seemed to be examining something she held in her cupped hands, but Paul couldn’t tell what it was from this distance. And what did it matter? He had a job to do—he’d best get to it. He aimed his feet for the kitchen door, but a shriek from outside changed his direction. He dashed into the yard as another shrill scream, accompanied by wild barking, pierced the air.

  He rounded the corner of the house to find the Zimmermans’ black-and-white border collie, Pepper, giving Alexa an exuberant welcome. Muddy paw prints decorated the girl’s skirt. She held her hands in the air as if under arrest while the dog joyfully leaped around her, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Although Pepper meant no harm, the girl was clearly terrified. He called out sternly, “Pepper, sit!”

  Without a moment’s pause, Pepper plopped down on her furry behind and panted up at the girl.

  Alexa gave Paul a look of pure relief as he closed the distance between them. “Thank you so much. I was afraid he’d knock me flat.”

  Paul hid a smile. He put his hand on the dog’s head. “Pepper’s really a friendly old girl. And she responds well to commands, so the next time she charges at you, just tell her to sit, and she’ll do it.” Pepper whined, wriggling in place. Paul gave her head a pat to encourage her to stay put, then he stuck out his hand. “We haven’t met. I’m Paul Aldrich.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alexa.” She gave his hand a quick, polite pump and then shot the dog a sour look. “I’m glad to know how to control that hairy beast in the future, but I’m afraid you told me too late. When she jumped on me, I dropped my locket.” Pepper followed Alexa’s movements with bright eyes as she began searching the ground. The dog poised, as if to leap.

  “Pepper, stay,” Paul said before joining Alexa in the search. He chuckled when he spotted the glint of gold in the thick grass about six feet behind her. “You didn’t just drop it—you must have launched it.” He stooped down and picked it up. Although he wasn’t an expert when it came to jewelry, he knew an antique when he saw one. The weight of the chain and its pendant spoke of solid gold, not the cheap gold-plated necklaces available today.

  He released a soft whistle as he handed it to Alexa. “I’m glad we found it. You wouldn’t want to lose that.”

  She cradled it to her chest. “No, I wouldn’t. My … grandmother gave it to me.”

  “Was it her betrothal locket?”

  The girl blinked at him, confusion marring her face. “Her what?”

  “Betrothal locket.” Obviously Suzy no longe
r lived the Old Order lifestyle. Her clothes, though modest, didn’t match the caped dresses worn by the women of their sect. But why hadn’t she told her daughter about their traditions? He pointed to the round pendant. “You see, when a young man in our sect wishes to become published—”

  Alexa’s brow crinkled.

  Paul added, “ ‘Published’ means becoming engaged.”

  Sincere interest replaced her expression of confusion.

  “He gives the girl a locket. If she wears it in public, then he knows she’s accepted the invitation. After the wedding the wife usually puts a picture of her husband inside. I bet if you look, you’ll find a photo of your grandfather in that one.”

  Alexa gazed down at the locket for several seconds. Then she gave him a hopeful look. “Do you know how to open it? I couldn’t find a latch.”

  He needed to return to work, but for reasons beyond his comprehension, opening the locket for Alexa took priority over cleaning up his mess in the kitchen. He held out his hand, and she slipped it into his palm. He turned the locket this way and that, seeking a means of releasing the catch, and then smiled. “Here it is. See?” He pressed a tiny knob concealed beneath the decorative link connecting the locket to the chain, and the two halves popped open as smoothly as they probably had the day it was purchased.

  Her face lit up. She took the locket and stared at the black-and-white image tucked into the bottom disc. “So that’s my grandfather …” Tears shimmered in her eyes. She blinked quickly, clearing the moisture. She grinned. “He was very handsome.”

  Paul couldn’t comment on that—what did he know of handsome? But he shared what he knew to be true. “Cecil Zimmerman was a good man. Quiet, gentle, hard working.” He’d always thought Suzy was natured more like her father than her outspoken mother. “I had a lot of respect for him. Our community suffered a great loss when he went on to his eternal reward. God surely welcomed Cecil into heaven with accolades for being a good and faithful servant.”

  Alexa seemed to drink in his words. “He died when I was very young. All I really remember is that Mom cried a lot and I felt bad because she was so sad.”

  Why hadn’t Suzy come home for her father’s memorial service? Or for anything else, for that matter? Indiana and Kansas were far apart, but not so far the distance couldn’t be traveled. She’d missed her father’s memorial service, her brother’s and sisters’ weddings, the birth of nieces and nephews, all events worthy of a visit home. He considered asking Alexa what had kept them away, but he didn’t want to be nosy.

  She looked at the picture again and released a wistful sigh. “I wish I could have known him.”

  Paul couldn’t hold back a question. “Hasn’t your mother told you about him?”

  Alexa bit down on her lower lip, consternation creasing her face. For a while he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she spoke in a rush. “Mom doesn’t like to talk about her life before she moved to Indiana. The few things she’s told me were shared with such apprehension, I almost felt guilty asking. I’d hoped when we came here I’d learn everything about my family, but—” She stopped as abruptly as she’d started.

  Holding up the locket, she offered a wobbly smile. “Thanks so much for finding this and showing me how to open it. I better go inside and wash the mud from my skirt before it sets in for good.” She sidestepped gingerly around the dog and then dashed off.

  Pepper whined and rose, but Paul said, “Pepper, stay.” The dog lay down and rested her chin on her paws, staring after Alexa and twitching in eagerness to get up and follow. Paul stayed next to Pepper until Alexa disappeared around the corner of the house. Then he shook his finger at the dog. “Next time, behave yourself. No jumping on people.”

  Pepper leaped up and batted the leg of Paul’s work trousers with one paw. He chuckled and gave her neck a scratch before turning toward the house. Pepper trotted alongside him, her tongue hanging from her mouth and her ears flopping. Paul frowned. Although he’d never been one to stick his nose into other people’s business, he couldn’t deny the desire to understand why Suzy had been so secretive about her past with her daughter and why she’d never come home. Yet at the same time he resisted uncovering the reason.

  He wasn’t naive. What he and Suzy had done in the barn loft was wrong. His parents had lectured him about remaining pure because giving in to temptation once made it easier to give in a second time, and then a third. Had his indiscretion led Suzy down a path of promiscuity, which in turn caused her to hold her daughter away from her grandparents and other family members? If so, he needed to seek forgiveness for more than he’d imagined.

  Suzanne

  “All right, that’s enough.”

  At her mother’s brusque statement, Suzanne arched backward and pressed her hands to the small of her back. After leaning over the bed and rubbing her mother’s calves for the past half hour, she needed a back massage. And a hand massage—her fingers were cramping from working Mother’s muscles. She made a mental note to add able to massage cramping muscles to the list of qualifications for the replacement nurse.

  “Isn’t it close to lunchtime by now?” Petulance laced Mother’s tone.

  Suzanne silently prayed for patience as she checked her wristwatch. “It’s a little after eleven. You didn’t have much breakfast so we can have an early lunch if you like.”

  “No, no, if I eat lunch early, I’ll want an early supper, and then I’ll be hungry at bedtime. I can’t eat at bedtime. I get heartburn.”

  Suzanne already had heartburn. Dear Father, how will I last two months? But she smiled. “All right then. We’ll wait until Tanya gets back from town. Do you know what you’d like?”

  “Yes.” Mother narrowed her gaze and stared fiercely at Suzanne. “I’d like to know how you have a daughter when, right now in Sommerfeld, your cousin Andrew and his wife are planning a wedding for the baby I thought you gave up for adoption.”

  Her baby girl was getting married? So many feelings swept through her at Mother’s blunt announcement—regret for having given her baby away, desire to know her, fury at her mother for the demands she’d made twenty years ago—she couldn’t decide which took precedence.

  “Alexa told me she turned nineteen on the third of December. The same birthday as Andrew and Livvy’s Anna-Grace.” With each statement, Mother’s voice grew softer in volume yet harsher in tone. She nearly grated out a question. “So what I want is to know, is Anna-Grace your daughter or not?”

  An acidic taste flooded Suzanne’s mouth. She swallowed. “Yes, Mother.”

  “Then how do you also have a daughter with you?” Mother pressed her palms to the mattress and sat upright.

  Suzanne’s answer came easily, the words having been uttered to Alexa countless times as assurance of her place in the world. “God gifted me with Alexa.”

  Mother’s eyes widened. “Twins?”

  Suzanne closed her eyes for a moment, gathering strength. Then she turned a pleading look on her mother. “In all honesty, this conversation is pointless. Discussing something that happened twenty years ago doesn’t change a thing. I did what you asked me to do—I gave Andrew and Olivia the chance to be parents. Can’t you simply accept Alexa’s presence with me and let it go?”

  For long seconds Mother stared into Suzanne’s face, her expression unreadable. Then she released a noisy huff and tossed her covers aside. “I want out of this bed. It’s ridiculous for me to have to stay here all day just because I had a little fainting spell. I’ve taken worse tumbles in my lifetime and didn’t take to bed over them.”

  Suzanne could have argued that in the past Mother had possessed two good legs to support her, but why argue? Mother won every battle. Fighting her was useless. And if she was willing to drop the conversation concerning Alexa and Anna-Grace, Suzanne would humor her. She hurried to the corner and retrieved Mother’s wheelchair.

  She reached to assist her into the chair, but Mother slapped her hands away. “I’m not helpless. I can do it.” She transferre
d herself from the bed to the chair, landing at an awkward angle on the padded seat. Grunting a bit, she pressed her elbows on the armrests and righted herself. Once she was settled, she fired a smug I-told-you-so look at her daughter.

  Suzanne responded with a tight smile. She released the brakes on the chair and aimed it for the doorway. But before she rolled the chair through the opening, Mother held up her hand and barked, “Stop!”

  She shifted around to look into Suzanne’s face. Scowl lines marched alongside her mouth. “I gave Alexa my locket. You’re the oldest daughter, so it should have gone to you before being passed to the oldest granddaughter. But it would eventually be hers anyway, and her initials match mine, so I gave it to her.”

  Although Mother’s face and tone were angry, Suzanne found the gesture touching. The gift indicated Mother had already accepted Alexa as a member of her family. But it could cause problems with her siblings. She placed her hand on her mother’s bony shoulder. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  Mother snorted and faced forward again. “In this life, more often than not, we do what we have to instead of what we want to. You should know that by now.” She gripped the rolled edges of the armrests. “Take me out on the porch. I need some air.”

  Suzanne

  The morning proved so pleasant, Suzanne remained on the porch with her mother and Alexa. Mother sat in her wheelchair, and Suzanne and Alexa shared the old swing. The chains’ creak and the wind’s gentle whisper offered a peaceful accompaniment to their quiet conversation.

  Tanya returned shortly before noon. She came up the walk with two pizza boxes balanced on one hand, a lumpy plastic bag hanging from the other, and an apologetic look on her face. As she plopped the pizza boxes onto Alexa’s lap, she said, “They’re only from the convenience store on the highway south of town so not nearly as good as homemade, but with the kitchen such a wreck we can’t cook.”