Masquerade (21 page)

Celeste padded through the kitchen and into the living  room.  Lily  sat  on  the  floor, the  doll between her

straight legs. “Open, shut them, open, shut them, lay them in your lap,” she sang slowly, but with near perfect pitch.

“Okay, Lily, let’s fix our picnic lunch. Follow me.” Celeste turned on her heel, listening for the child’s clipped steps behind her.

In the kitchen, Celeste placed the supplies she’d gathered earlier onto the table. “Do you like brownies?”

Lily climbed into her seat at the end of the wooden table and knelt on her knees. She nodded, ran her tongue over her gums.

“Okay then, let’s get started.” While the butter melted in a saucepan on the burner, Celeste helped Lily measure out flour, cocoa powder, salt, and baking powder into a mixing bowl. Lily stirred while Celeste greased and floured an eight-inch baking pan. The butter ready, Celeste retrieved the pan and guided Lily to stir in the sugar and vanilla. She held Lily’s hand as they cracked one egg, then another, into the pan.

Egg white inched its way down Lily’s arm. She spread her fingers. “Ooh, goo!” Giggling, she held her hand close to her face. “Snail. Pretty colors.”

“Snail?” This child saw colors in everything. Intriguing. Celeste beat in the dry ingredients and poured the batter into the prepared baking dish.

Lily drew a slimy line on the dark table surface, leaned in to observe her work. “Snail. Pretty.”

Celeste jiggled the pan to even the batter. “Oh, snail, of course. A slimy snail trail.” Childhood memories rushed into her mind. On early summer mornings, she would go outside to play and notice the silvery paths. She

would lie on her stomach, chin in hand and study the cement sidewalk. When the sun shone on the trails, they would gleam with color. Enthralled with her find and eager for a playmate, she’d run back inside and tug her mother outside. But her reaction was always the same. “You brought me out here for this—those creepy slugs. Don’t play with that mess.” Mother would shudder, wipe her hands on her apron, and slam the screen door behind her.

Celeste cleaned Lily’s hand. “Pretty, huh?”

But Lily’s attention had already shifted to the empty mixing bowl coated with brownie batter. “Will I get to lick that bowl?” She grinned and pulled her shoulders up to her ears. “I can’t ‘member.”

Celeste reached for a spatula. “Oh, I think so. You’ve been such a good helper.”

While Lily scooped the batter from the sides of the bowl, Celeste slid the pan into the preheated oven. Mocha patches dotted Golden Girl’s nose and cheeks by the time she finished scrapping the bowl. A chocolate rim circled her mouth. She appeared to be having the time of her life.

A bittersweet sensation overwhelmed Celeste. She would have been a good mother. As it was, she’d simply have to be a good teacher. She couldn’t with good conscience take this little girl away from the Miller family, especially now when things looked so hopeful for them.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

             
“We’re here, Lily.” Celeste cut the car engine, unhooked her seat belt, and reached for the picnic basket. “What are you doing?”

              Lily craned her neck, obviously captivated by something. “Dancing dots.”

              Celeste scratched her chin, scooted beside the child. “Dancing dots, huh?”

              Golden Girl tapped the window and cocked her head one way, then another.

              Maybe the child meant, “dancing tots.” Celeste surveyed the grassy area surrounding the pond. Two young children with their mother tossed chunks of bread into the water. A gaggle of honking geese glided over and gobbled up the soggy crumbs. An elderly couple wearing woolen coats and caps strolled arm-in-arm, pausing periodically to point at some fascination. Other park patrons lounged on benches positioned strategically around the circular pond. No dancing tots, however.

              Celeste unfastened Lily’s belt. The child wiggled to her knees and pressed her nose to the glass. Her breath fogged the window around her mouth. “Colors. Pretty colors.”

              Celeste squinted, determined to see what the child saw, if that was even possible.

              Now beating on the window, Lily rocked back and forth. “Dancing rainbow.”

              What a funny little nymph of a girl. Otherworldly.

              “Oh, I see it.” Celeste clapped her hands. In the side mirror, tiny cubes of color moved over the surface.

A science lesson she devised in college jumped into her mind. With Lily’s fixation on light and optics, certain facts now took on new significance. She remembered how sunlight is basically white and composed of all colors. Typically, a smooth, flat mirror reflects almost all the light, and the rays bounce off in only one direction. But due to the slight curvature and the imperfections in the car mirror, the light bounced off in all directions, producing an array of colors.

              As she stepped out of the car and moved to Lily’s door, Barbara’s words the day of Joe’s funeral flooded her mind.
God sends the rainbow after the storm.
She’d wondered then
how anything good could come out of Joe’s death. She still wondered. Maybe beautiful things just took time to reveal themselves.

Certainly, Lily was one of those good and beautiful things. But even contemplation about Golden Girl brought pain, since it was likely she’d never be able to adopt her.

She thought more about the rainbow Barbara and Lily kept drawing her attention to. According to her studies, light passes through the raindrops, producing all the colors of the visible spectrum from red, with the longest wavelength at one end of the spectrum,  to  violet,

with the shortest wavelength at the other end of the spectrum. Truly fascinating stuff.

Light passes through the raindrops.

Perhaps that’s what faith in God is all about—allowing the light to pass through the raindrops.

She opened Lily’s door and the child slid out, feet hitting the asphalt with a thud. As they worked their way through the parked cars, Lily kept her gaze fastened on the pavement.

“Oh, look, Teacher Tater.” Lily stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Celeste to slow down and backtrack.

This child was clearly obsessed with rainbows. But instead of pointing to some distant scene in the sky, Lily stomped the asphalt. Sure enough, color oozed through a massive oily spot on the pavement.

“Yes, Lily, pretty colors, but let’s move on. Your shoes are getting all dirty.”

She saw messy; Lily saw beauty. Was life really as simple as seeing the beautiful in the midst of the ugly?

At the pond’s edge, Celeste studied the water. Reflected light again, but due to the pond’s flat surface, the rays bounced off in only one direction. So no display of colors, but nonetheless sparkly and shiny.

Several white ducks swam to the edge, shaking their tail feathers, waiting with anticipation for some bread to drop. After she fished through her basket, she handed Lily a hunk of stale bread. Celeste knelt and tore off tiny pieces, cast them into the water. Feathers flapped in a mad dash for the food. “Now you try, Lily.”

While Celeste held the bread, Golden Girl tore off a

piece and tossed it to an eager duck. His beak snapped the morsel out of the air before it even touched the water. Delightful giggles bubbled up and spilled out Lily’s mouth. Before Celeste could stop her, the child grabbed the bread and threw the entire piece into the pond. Two brave ducks eyed the mass, then nipped at it. A mallard dipped his head in the water, bobbed back up. He soared across the pond and landed with a gentle glide on the surface, leaving ripples in his wake.

“Let’s eat our sandwiches, how ‘bout that?” Celeste picked up the basket and guided Lily to a stone bench resting beneath a bare tree. Celeste inspected a branch. Ah, green buds. A good sign that spring was on its way. The crisp air smelled clean, refreshing the spirit.

They sat in companionable silence eating their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, ducks quacking around their feet. A hawk circled overhead. A run-away toddler darted across the lawn, his mother in hot pursuit. To the far left, a teenage boy tossed a football to his buddy.

Lily looked at Celeste, her mouth drawn up in a bow, delicate brow furrowed. “I not like other kids.” She licked the peanut butter from the crook of her mouth. “But that okay. Sonny say God love me jus’ way I am.”

Her heart filled with compassion. Even as a child, Celeste had been drawn to the underdog, those who were considered different. How many times she’d stood up for kids her peers had either ignored or ridiculed. Anger burned within her. So unfair—retardation. Was that God’s way  of  keeping  the  scales  balanced? 
Oops, I made too

many whole people, better make a few deficient ones.
What kind of loving God would do that?

She cupped Lily’s face in her hand. Such clear blue eyes, full of life and curiosity. “You are a beautiful little girl, Lily. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. You are special. And Teacher Tater loves you.” She tapped the child on her button nose. Her gaze traveled to the shriveled arm hidden beneath the child’s pink jacket. In warmer months ahead, her abnormal limb would be visible for all to see. Some would shake their heads in pity and wonder what happened. Others would point and snicker. Still others would simply pretend they saw nothing and walk away. How she wanted to shield Golden Girl from the cruelty.

Celeste sniffed, reached into the basket for a thermos of hot chocolate and the freshly baked brownies. A twig snapped, and she turned her head. She had the oddest feeling someone was watching her. The shadow of a person clung to the ground beside a large tree a few feet behind them. Her skin bristled. Surely, they’d caught that killer by now. But how could she know for sure? She hadn’t listened to the news for the past two weeks.

She handed Lily a brownie, and the child dug into it like Cookie Monster on a rampage. “Wait right here.” She patted Golden Girl’s knee. “I’ll be right back.”

Hunched over, she crept toward the tree. The shadow shifted. Then a man dressed in black jeans and a beige jacket, collar pulled up around his face, darted out and sprinted across the parking lot. Heart thumping against  her  ribcage,  she  jogged  to the edge of the grass

and tried to track the man’s movements. He was fast, and gone. A chill started at her shoulder blades and snaked down her spine.
That guy was deliberately watching us; I know it.
She hugged herself and turned, swept a bee from the front of her face.

Where was Lily? Celeste had only stepped away for a minute. Panic rendered her breathless. An assortment of ducks and geese pecked away at the brownie crumbs littered in front of the stone bench. Frantic, Celeste scanned the park. All was as it should be—children played, adults strolled—except for one very horrible thing. Lily was nowhere to be seen.

She beat her forehead with her fist.
Come on, Celeste. Think.
She darted to a bench a few yards from where she and Lily had sat. “Did you see a little girl—blonde curls, green sock hat, pink jacket—walk past? Very unsteady gait.” Her hands thrashed in the air as the words tumbled out on top of each other.

The young couple on the bench could have been her and Joe. The man cradled the woman to his side. A dreamy look filled both their eyes. “Sorry, no, we didn’t see her.”

Probably too absorbed in one another. Either newly-weds or dating. A momentary stab to the heart crippled Celeste. At the sound of splashing, she pivoted on her heel with renewed focus. There, a mere stone’s throw away, squatted Lily on her haunches. A flock of fowl surrounded her while others splashed their wings in the water, causing an all-out ruckus.

Celeste  charged  to  the  child’s  side,  hand  to  her

throat. The ducks squawked and scattered.  “Lily, you gave me quite a scare.”

Golden Girl pointed to a fountain in the middle of the pond. “Rainbow.”

Celeste sighed. “Rainbow,” her shoulders slumped, “yes, Lily, rainbow.” She lifted the child by the hand. “Time to go home.”

###

A few feet from the driveway, Celeste swerved the Plymouth to avoid hitting an already dead cat. After she parked the car in the garage, she hopped out and helped Lily out of her seat. A sound caught her attention, and she cocked her head to listen.

“Me-ow. Me-ow.”

Holding Lily’s hand, she worked her way around the front of the car, paused and listened. Definitely a mewing sound. She peered around a stack of boxes, and there huddled together on a pile of soiled rags lay four newborn kittens. Celeste looked toward the street. Her heart sank.
I hope that wasn’t mama lying on the road.

Lily slid her hand out of Celeste’s grip and knelt to the cement. “Ah, kitty, kitty.” She reached to stroke a gray-striped tabby that was fighting its way into the cluster of tiny bodies. A marble-shaded tabby, paws no bigger than peas, clawed at another kitten.