Child of Mine (17 page)

Read Child of Mine Online

Authors: Beverly Lewis

Tags: #FIC042000, #FIC053000, #FIC026000, #Mothers of kidnapped children—Fiction, #Adopted children—Fiction, #Identity (Psychology)—Fiction, #Amish—Fiction, #Ohio—Fiction

BOOK: Child of Mine
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The rest of June was slow at Higher Ground, due to days of high winds, low ceilings, and heavy rains, although Jack's company made some bucks flying photographers and other thrill seekers. The Salt Fork State Park, sixty miles to the southeast, never failed to attract a handful of fanatics intent on spotting the elusive Bigfoot, and Jack—definitely a cynic himself—was more than willing to fly them over the woods, if only to enjoy the beauty.

During the beginning of July, the flying weather improved and so did business. In addition to a few quick out-of-state trips and flying the corporate jet for his bigwig clients, Higher Ground fielded a healthy assortment of renters and certification seekers, all of which helped fill out an otherwise uneventful month. When he wasn't flying, Jack spent his free time with Nattie, taking her to the municipal pool, driving through the local Dairy Queen a couple times a week, and taking in family movies at the local cinema.

On the spur of the moment, Jack and Nattie even flew together on short sight-seeing trips, but not as often or as far as Jack had anticipated. Nattie's multitude of friends were in and out of the house on a regular basis, hanging out in her room, or in the backyard tree house, or digging in the dirt at the end of their property. He got whiplash trying to keep track of their names.

Laura had yet to make her “English” debut. Jack figured she'd
changed her mind. It certainly wasn't his place to inquire. Most important, she hadn't said another word about leaving for Lancaster County.

They celebrated Nattie's ninth birthday at the local pizza parlor, inviting ten of her BFFs. Jack had acquiesced to her insistence that
four
friends did
not
make a party.

It was a rip-roaring time, and Laura seemed to enjoy it as much as Nattie, both of them ignoring the looks from curious patrons. This was in spite of the proliferation of Ohio Amish culture.

Before the pizza had a chance to arrive, Nattie stood up and gestured to Laura sitting at the table nearby. “This is Laura Mast, my Amish nanny. If you think she dresses funny, get over it, because she's my best friend in the world.”

Laura brushed away a tear, clearly moved by Nattie's refusal to be embarrassed of her.

After the introduction, Nattie went to hug Laura. She then waved her arm toward Jack and announced loudly, “And this is my . . .
dad.
He flies airplanes for a living.”

Everyone cheered, and Jack pushed out his chest.

After they were home again, the house was overrun with giggling girls who spread sleeping bags on the floor in the great room, though sleeping was clearly not on their agenda.

Jack looked over the banister and noticed Nattie in the middle of the group, telling a story. One of the girls pointed at Jack and Nattie turned, spotting him upstairs. She waved and went back to her story.

In the past, Jack had used Nattie's sleepovers to instill social behavior: how to get along, how to treat your guests like royalty. More than once he'd forbidden the next week's visit due to Nattie's obnoxious behavior. And she had quickly modified her conduct.

When Jack had reason to believe things were under control for the night, he headed for bed, although he was awakened later by explosive giggling.

He noticed that Nattie must have come up at one point to
replace his lion with her elephant, putting it on Jack's pillow. Turning on the lamp, he read her note:

Here's the elephant in your room.
Get it?

Jack grinned sleepily. He doubted she got the whole
elephant in the room
nuance, but it was cute. And heartwarming. She might have been busy with her friends but never too busy to think of ol' dad.

Laura had left about nine that night.
“I think
the worst has passed,”
she'd whispered, and he knew what she meant. Nattie seemed to have settled down since the evening with Angela Walberg. She hadn't cried in weeks, and to Jack, it felt as if they were pitching a no-hitter. He was reluctant to address it, as if worried he might jinx the recovery.

The whole notion of growing out of it was making sense. Perhaps Laura was right. Or maybe—
just maybe
—Nattie was holding her breath, not wanting to mess up what she thought was happening between her dad and her nanny.

Either way, their lives seemed to have reached a peaceful rhythm, and spending time with Laura at day's end continued as a routine. They'd become a happy little family of sorts, and Jack was determined not to disrupt the status quo.

Kelly Maines's summer was looking to be considerably less of a roller coaster than previous ones, when she'd spent the weeks raising money to find Emily and most weekends in a new city, plying her magic tricks for unsuspecting prospects. Instead, she was settling in to her new job, sleeping normal hours, and relishing the camaraderie of office life.

By the middle of June, Ernie had recovered enough from pneumonia to have bypass surgery. On the day of the heart procedure, Kelly, along with Cindy, kept Ernie's wife company in the waiting room.

Four long hours later, Ernie was wheeled out on a gurney. His
cardiac surgeon expressed cautious hope for a complete recovery and expressly forbade him from office work for at least a month. From Penny's determined look, Kelly was sure she was going to hold her hubby to it.

In the weeks that followed, Kelly located a nicer apartment with reasonable rent. Unfortunately, while she had enough money for the deposit, she was short on the first month's rent until her new boss caught wind of her plans and insisted on advancing her enough to cover the remainder.

As a going-away gift, Kelly received Felix from her old landlady, Agnes, who declared, “That rascal always liked you better.”

Kelly only smiled, thrilled to become Felix's official owner.

Melody, of course, was amused with Kelly's new pet. “Felix. Felix the cat. Really, Kel?”

Kelly laughed. “I'm afraid dear Agnes was a bit name-challenged.”

Eager to help, Melody helped her friend move into her new place, which was larger and brighter than her former digs, and Kelly did her magic with dashes of color—blues and soft yellows—doing away with the old blinds to bring in more light. An inexpensive sofa cover also served to freshen the look, as did two new throw pillows and an area rug she found at a discount store. In a corner of her bedroom, she set up Emily's baby crib, a reminder of her mission. Emily was too big for the crib, but she was still coming home.

Next, she proceeded to brighten the place with her favorite inspirational texts. On a bedroom wall, she hung a stenciled Scripture on painted canvas:
According to your faith be it unto
you.
In the living room, she hung two more:
Be not afraid, only believe.
And her all-time favorite:
Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.

“That verse is so grim,” Melody had commented, but Kelly had explained her reasons. “It means that you believe even if you don't think God will answer your prayer. After all, Job was saying
that God might allow him to die, but to him it didn't matter. He would
still
believe.”

Melody shuddered. “Fine. They're your walls.”

Beside the window, the one overlooking a beautiful maple tree, Kelly hung the last one.
If ye had faith as
a grain of mustard seed, ye might say unto this
sycamine tree, Be thou plucked up by the root, and
be thou planted in the sea; and it should obey
you.

To Kelly, this meant that the size of faith didn't matter, but whether your faith was
alive,
like a seed. Plus your faith bore fruit when you buried it in the ground, as if leaving it for dead.
I've buried my hope in the ground,
she thought.
And someday, it'll grow into a huge tree.

Along with decorating her new place, she loved her new job. Kelly had a knack for numbers and enjoyed working with clients, opening new accounts, managing transfers, and handling paperwork. She especially liked answering the phone and exuding customer love and appreciation. And while she wasn't accustomed to the longer hours—often ten-hour days—she
loved
her new paycheck!

She'd already put on seven pounds and had begun sleeping nearly eight luxurious hours a night. She no longer winced when she looked in the mirror, and her cheeks were rosy again. Her clothes—her
new
ones—actually fit her in all the right places.

Kelly also worked out at the gym with Melody, the two of them often enjoying a smoothie or an iced coffee afterward. It seemed nothing had ever happened to their friendship before.
Almost.

Kelly got a kick out of inviting Chet and Eloise to lunch after church and tried to pick up the tab. Somehow the check never actually arrived—Chet had already handled it. Despite her vigorous protests, Chet only grinned. “You can get the next one, missy.”

“You'll never let me treat you guys, will you?” Kelly muttered good-naturedly.

Chet, toothpick in his mouth, twinkled back at her. Eloise was
just as mischievous and shrugged. “What can I say? I married a chivalrous man.”

After doing her best to remain patient, Kelly was thrilled when Cindy called at last. “I've been completing some much-needed housekeeping here in the office, in preparation for Ernie's return.”

Kelly could hear the shuffling of papers. Cindy added, “Apparently we still have an open file on Natalie Livingston.”

“Not anymore,” Kelly replied.

“I have a note that Ernie was going to send you the photo, but I can't find a sent file with an attached picture.”

“Doesn't matter,” Kelly said, remembering the adorable father with his very blond daughter. “Natalie Livingston is no longer a prospect.”

Cindy sounded surprised. “Alrighty then. I'll mark it unfounded and file it away.”

Unfounded,
Kelly thought, hanging up and mulling it over.
Like so
many others. What will I do when Ernie actually comes
back?

Yet, in spite of the many good things in Kelly's life—her renewed friendship with Melody, her recovering health, and her job satisfaction—Kelly would have traded it all just to have Emily back in her arms.

Sometimes she still cried herself to sleep, wondering if this was what it felt like to give up, worrying that she would regret the choices of the past month. Many times over the years, she had lain awake at night considering what her little girl was doing, what she looked like, if she liked her teachers, what she might be planning for her birthday, if her new parents loved her, or whether they had they taught her about Jesus.

On the worst nights, her fears took over and she worried that Emily might not be safe, that things might have taken a tragic turn for the worse, that she might not even be alive. Such thoughts only
tempted her to despair, which was always just below the surface, nipping at her heels.

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