“There you are. Now peek. I hope you’ll like it.” Suddenly uncertainty struck. So many years had passed. So many opportunities had been wasted. Would the message—the carefully worded message—be too late? Dear God, please … She could find no other words, but she trusted God would read the yearning of her soul.
Suzy perched on the bench and placed the box on her lap. She peeled back the top and reached inside. Her face lit up as she pulled out the tan bear with curly fur and bright button eyes. A huff of happy laughter accompanied her smile. “Oh, Mother, she’s adorable! The cutest bear I’ve ever seen.”
Abigail wriggled in her chair, wishing she could leap up and dance with glee. She gripped the armrests. “Pinch her middle. She talks.”
Suzy’s eyebrows rose, and she obediently pressed her thumbs against the bear’s plump tummy. Abigail’s voice, carried on a rather tinny note, crackled from the little voice box. “I am so proud of you, Suzy, and I love you very much.”
Suzy seemed to freeze, her unblinking gaze pinned on the bear. Abigail wanted to ask what she thought, whether she was pleased, if she believed her. But she couldn’t find the courage. So she sat in silence, watching her daughter’s face, holding her breath, hoping and praying.
Very slowly Suzy returned the bear to its box. She folded down the flaps with great care, almost reverently. With trembling hands, she slipped the box from her lap to the bench. Then she turned to Abigail. “Mother …” Tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Her lips crumpled and she lunged forward, kneeling on the floor and wrapping her arms around Abigail’s neck, nearly pulling her from the chair. Then she clung, sobbing softly against her mother’s breast.
Sobs pressed for release from Abigail’s throat, but she held them inside, needing to assume the role of comforter rather than the comforted. For the first time in far too long, she wanted to give, not receive. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and rested her cheek on her warm head. She was aware of the curious gazes of passersby, and her back throbbed from the awkward position, but she ignored both and whispered soothing words to her daughter while rubbing her hands up and down Suzy’s back.
Minutes passed—precious minutes, healing minutes—and finally Suzy pulled away. She helped Abigail sit up in the chair again, her professional side emerging, and then she eased onto the bench and dug through her purse for a tissue. After mopping her face, she aimed a wobbly smile at Abigail. “Mother …” Her voice sounded raspy. She sniffed, then pressed the tissue to her nose for a moment. “Thank you, Mother.”
Abigail sensed deeper meaning hiding behind the simple words, and she wished she could find the means to convey all her heart was feeling at that moment. But she could only nod, hoping her smile would speak what her lips could not. Suzy took her hand and squeezed, letting her know the message came through. Abigail sniffed and patted her daughter’s hand—a brisk, nononsense pat that meant all done, time to move on.
Suzy plopped the box on Abigail’s lap and said, a hint of teasing in her tone, “Hold tight to Abby-bear. Let’s move on.”
Abigail hugged the bear to her thudding heart. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a window, and she nearly gasped in shock. That woman in the wheelchair with the shining eyes and upturned lips … could it really be her? Such a change had been wrought. And it came about through simple reconciliation. A prayer of gratitude winged heavenward without effort. I’m restored, dear Lord in heaven. You’ve restored me. Thank You.
Abigail
A hand lightly shook Abigail’s arm. The hazy dream into which she’d slipped shortly after leaving Wichita dissipated. She smacked her lips and raised her eyebrows, encouraging her lazy lids to open.
A soft chuckle came from the opposite side of the seat. “Wake up, Mother. We’re almost home.” Suzy’s tender voice pulled her completely from her drowsy state.
She yawned, balling her hands into fists, and then opened her eyes. The car bounced slowly along the final dirt road leading to the farm. She sent Suzy a sheepish look. “Goodness, I can’t imagine why I was so sleepy. We had three very relaxing days with more than enough rest.”
“Maybe all that shopping wore you out.”
Abigail glanced into the backseat. Friendly animal faces showed behind the little window holes cut in the boxes. She smiled and faced forward. “Lacey did most of the work.” Maybe the effort she put into forming the messages for Suzy, Shelley, Sandra, and Tanya had worn her out. If so, it was a good kind of tired. She wouldn’t complain. She sighed. “I’ve had my best birthday ever.”
An odd look crept over Suzy’s face. The car slowed a bit more and Suzy reached out and cupped Abigail’s wrist with one hand. “Mother, your birthday celebration … it isn’t finished yet.”
Abigail frowned at her daughter, worry and suspicion tangling together in her thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“Well …” They moved past the windbreak of hedge-apple trees to the opening of the farm’s lane. Suzy slowed to a mere crawl as she navigated the turn. The moment she cleared the trees, she released a gasp and pressed the brake.
The restraining seat belt held Abigail in place, but her body jolted forward against the strap with the sudden stop. “Suzy! Be careful!”
Suzy was staring ahead, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Abigail turned to look forward, too, and she realized why Suzy had stopped so abruptly. They’d turned into the wrong lane. But then again, maybe they hadn’t. That was her barn to the right. And wasn’t that the corner of the old summer kitchen peeking from behind the house?
Her heart began to pound. Confused, she brought her gaze back to the beautiful house standing tall and proud. She recognized the ramp leading to the porch and the familiar old lounging chair settled by the big front window. This was her house, but it couldn’t be her house. Could it?
Late-afternoon sun glowed against soft yellow siding and made the gold and dark blue accent colors on the window casings, fish-scale siding, and massive corbels shine like jewels. “What? How? Who?” She clamped her mouth closed on the nonsensical stammers.
“Are you upset?”
Suzy’s hesitant question almost made Abigail laugh. Two months ago she would have been furious. She would have flayed whoever perpetrated this change to her house with bitter, angry words. She’d let the house go to rack and ruin as a sign of her internal failings. But somehow these past weeks and especially these past days—setting things right with Suzy again—had changed her. Although taken by surprise, she wasn’t upset or angry or even resentful. The house’s amazing transformation seemed to reflect the transformation she’d experienced in her soul.
Tears flooded her eyes. “I’m not upset. I’m … in awe. It’s beautiful. It’s so very beautiful.” Yes, dear Lord, being at peace with oneself is very, very beautiful.
Suzy caught her hand and Abigail held tight. They sat in the idling car for several minutes simply admiring. Then Suzy pulled her hand free and aimed an impish smile at Abigail. “Let’s get you inside. I suspect there are more surprises awaiting you.”
Alexa
“Shhh!” Alexa turned to the family members crowded into the front room and dining room and waved her hands to bring their chatter under control.
They’d all donned their Sunday clothes for the party, giving them a somber appearance, but the laughter and cheerful conversation that had filled the room since their arrival was anything but somber. She hoped she could keep them quiet long enough to let Grandmother be caught unaware. “Mom’s bringing her up the walk now. Get ready to yell ‘surprise’!”
Shelley rolled her eyes. “If she’s seen the house, she already knows something is up. So why the secrecy?”
One of Grandmother’s nephews, Andrew Braun, nudged Shelley with his elbow and touched his finger to his lips. She scowled, folding her arms across her chest, but she ceased talking.
Alexa shot the man an appreciative smile before peeking through the tiny slit between the lowered window shade and the window’s frame. M
om had pushed Grandmother’s wheelchair up the ramp, but they remained on the porch. Apparently Grandmother was admiring the new paint job, because she and Mom were talking, pointing, smiling.
Alexa bit her lip. Couldn’t they finish their examination and just come inside? The waiting was agony. And the fellowship members who were all gathered in the barn were probably ready to come out, too.
Anna-Grace, one of Grandmother’s great-nieces who’d traveled to Arborville for the party, eased up beside Alexa and whispered, “What’s taking so long?”
“The men did too good painting the house. Grandmother can’t take her eyes off of it.”
Anna-Grace laughed softly, shaking her head. “You could go out and get her, if you wanted.”
Alexa considered the suggestion. It wouldn’t seem unusual for her to be watching for her mother and grandmother’s return. “Good idea. Make sure everybody stays back away from the door, though, so she won’t see you all right away when she comes in.”
Trusting Anna-Grace to herd everyone toward the dining room and kitchen, Alexa bounded onto the porch. “Grandmother! Happy birthday!”
Grandmother held her arms wide. “Come here, you little scamp.” With a giggle, Alexa bent forward, and Grandmother wrapped her in a tight hug. “Your mother says you’re responsible for all this.” She released Alexa and shook her finger at her, but her shining eyes ruined the scolding effect. “It had to have cost you dearly.”
Alexa shrugged, grinning. “You’re worth it. But … do you like the colors okay?” She pulled in a breath and held it.
“The colors are perfect. Blue for my children’s eyes, pale yellow for their blond hair, and gold for the wheat harvest that meets our needs.”
Alexa released the breath, her shoulders slumping with the action. She should be pleased she’d chosen colors that were meaningful to her grandmother, but instead sadness pricked. None of the colors had any connection to her.
“Of course,” Grandmother went on in a thoughtful tone, “that gold is also close in color to the flecks in your eyes, Alexa.”
Her happiness restored, Alexa slid her hand along the porch railing, which now wore a fresh coat of bright white. “But what about this color, Grandmother? Has it no meaning?”
“It has the best meaning of all—white is for brand-new and washed clean.” Grandmother reached for Mom, and the two women gripped hands and smiled at each other.
Alexa wanted to question the silent messages flowing between her mother and grandmother, but people were inside waiting. She hurried toward the door, gesturing for them to follow. “Well, come on in. I have supper waiting for you. And birthday cake, too!”
“Chocolate?” Grandmother’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
Alexa laughed. “What else?”
She held open the door and stepped aside. Grandmother wheeled across the threshold, and Mom followed her in. Even before Alexa could close the door behind them, a chorus of voices exploded. “Surprise! Surprise!” Apparently those hiding in the barn heard the cry, because people spilled across the yard to the house, all calling messages of congratulations.
Within minutes the house was so crowded a person couldn’t take a step without bumping into someone, but no one—except Shelley, who hid in the kitchen and busied herself refilling serving bowls and platters—seemed to mind. Some carried their plates to the yard, others sat wherever they could find a seat or leaned against the wall and ate standing up, but everyone managed to partake of the homemade chicken salad or ham salad on artisan breads, macaroni salad, cucumber salad, home-canned applesauce, and relishes.
When people approached Alexa to praise her for planning the party, she credited her aunts with helping. She intended to bake something extra special for Tanya, Sandra, and Shelley—yes, even Shelley—when she’d had a chance to recuperate.
The party lasted less than two hours, but Clete and Tanya had warned her the fellowship members would want to be in bed by a reasonable hour since Saturday was still a workday and they’d need to rise early. So she wasn’t offended when shortly after singing “Happy Birthday” to Grandmother and eating a piece of cake, they began loading into the vehicles they’d parked behind the barn. Mr. Aldrich and Danny were the last to leave, and she followed them into the yard.
“Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” She raised her voice to be heard over the rumble of departing cars’ engines. “Maybe have one more piece of cake? There’s still some left.”
Danny affected a pleading look, but Mr. Aldrich curled his hand around the back of his son’s neck. “The cake was very good, Alexa, but we need to get out of the way. It’s time for your family to be alone with your grandmother.”
But weren’t they family, too? After all, they were her father and half brother. She wanted them to stay. Her circle couldn’t be complete without them. “But—”
Mr. Aldrich shook his head, an almost-imperceptible motion. “Danny’s going to help me when I start the demolition on Mrs. Zimmerman’s bathroom Monday morning. If there’s any cake left, he can have an extra piece with his lunch then.”
Although disappointed, Alexa nodded. She shouldn’t argue with her father. If the family finished off the cake—and she suspected they would!—she’d just bake another one specially for Danny and Mr. Aldrich. “All right. Thank you again for everything you did to get the house ready. It looks wonderful. And so does the summer kitchen. What a great surprise! I can’t believe there was enough paint to give it a makeover, too.”
Mr. Aldrich started to say something, but a second voice intruded. “Alexa?”
She turned to find Anna-Grace hurrying across the yard. When she reached Alexa, she offered an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your grandmother asked if I would help you bring in some packages from her car. They’re in the backseat.”
Mr. Aldrich smiled at Anna-Grace. “Aren’t you Andrew and Olivia’s daughter? The one who will be getting married in February?”
Anna-Grace smiled. “That’s right. I’m sorry—I met so many people this evening, I don’t recall your name.”
“I don’t think we officially met. I’m Paul Aldrich, and this is my son, Danny.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Anna-Grace shook hands first with Mr. Aldrich and then Danny. “Oh, yes, you’re the carpenter, right? I overheard Clete telling my dad that you remodeled Aunt Abigail’s kitchen. You did an amazing job. I’m sure she will find it much easier to use now.”
“That’s the purpose,” Mr. Aldrich said with a smile.
Anna-Grace seemed like a nice enough young woman—sweet-natured, polite—but she had lousy timing. Alexa wanted to know what Mr. Aldrich had intended to say to her. She touched the other girl’s arm. “I doubt the car is locked. I’ll come help you in a minute.”
Anna-Grace smiled, nodded, and told Mr. Aldrich and Danny good evening. Alexa turned to Mr. Aldrich, ready to ask what he’d started to say, but he spoke first.
“You better not keep your grandmother waiting. I need to get Danny home. We’ll see you in service Sunday.” His hand draped over Danny’s shoulder, he aimed his son in the direction of the barn.
As Alexa and Anna-Grace carried the last of the boxes and set them on the porch, Anna-Grace’s parents and younger sister, Sunny, stepped outside. Her mother said, “Go in and say your good nights, Anna-Grace. Sunny is complaining of a stomachache.”
Sunny clutched her belly. Her slanted eyes nearly disappeared with her grimace. “I ate too much applesauce.”
“Aw, I’m sorry.” Anna-Grace stroked one of Sunny’s glossy black braids and gazed down at her with sympathy. The two sisters couldn’t look more different—Sunny with her round face and straight black hair, Anna-Grace willowy with wavy hair as yellow as butter. Yet the differences didn’t seem to matter. They clearly adored each other.
Alexa experienced a stab of jealousy as she watched the younger one lean briefly into her older sister’s embrace. She wished it wasn’t too late for Mom to adopt a little gir
l from China, too.
Olivia went on. “We’ll drop the two of you off at Derek and Sandra’s before we go to Clete and Tanya’s.”
Obediently, Anna-Grace headed inside. Alexa swallowed her envy and approached Anna-Grace’s family. “Thank you for coming to Grandmother’s party. I know it meant a lot to her to have you here.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Andrew said. “We’ve let too much time go between visits. When your mother and I were children, our families got together every year at Christmas and at least once during the summer. But after my mother—your grandmother’s sister—passed away, we quit doing it.”
“Actually it was even before that, Andrew. I don’t think we’ve come once since Anna-Grace arrived,” Olivia added. The black ribbons dangling from her cap gently waved in the evening breeze, dancing across the top of Sunny’s head as she turned to Alexa. “To think we never even got to meet you until today, and you’re … how old? Eighteen?”
“Nineteen.”
Andrew and Olivia smiled at each other. Olivia said, “The same age as Anna-Grace.”
Alexa had assumed Anna-Grace was a little older since she was engaged—or “published,” as the fellowship said—to be married. Knowing they were the same age made her wish they could have more time together, maybe just the two of them, to get better acquainted. But if the families began meeting on a regular basis, she would have a chance to grow to know this cousin.
Anna-Grace exited the house and rejoined her family. Alexa gave her an impulsive hug.
“It was so good to meet you. The next time you come to Arborville, maybe I’ll have the summer kitchen finished and we can have some girl time out there.”
Anna-Grace’s face lit with a smile. Alexa did a double take. Odd how much she looked like Sandra and Mom when she smiled. Anna-Grace said, “That would be wonderful, Alexa. I would love that. Take care now.”
Alexa watched the parents and daughters amble toward the barn. Anna-Grace glanced over her shoulder, smiled again, and waved. Alexa waved back. How fun to have a cousin so close to her age. Maybe now that the families had gathered together again, they would do it more. She’d enjoy becoming acquainted with Anna-Grace.
When Mercy Rains Page 30