Masquerade (32 page)

Gaze fastened on the rearview mirror, Don backed out of the driveway and onto Maple Avenue. “Turkey subs, courtesy of Sally’s Sandwiches, with a side order of her famous homemade chips and apple turnovers.”

She shook her head and grinned.

“Hey, I said I’d provide the food. I didn’t say how.”

“No, that’s great. Really.”

An awkward silence passed between them.

“You okay?” Don said at last. “You seem tired.”

“Like I said, it’s been quite a week.”

“Share with a friend?” He reached for her hand.

Dare she get into Lily’s history right now or wait until they arrived at the lake? She took a deep breath. She’d step a toe into the chilly water. “You remember when the nurse at Kinser said Lily survived a failed abortion?”

“Yeah, I remember.” He slowed up, flicked on the directional signal and made a right-hand turn into the parking lot in front of the lake.

“Well, I did a bit more checking into Lily’s story.”

Don  cut   the  engine,  leaned  over  the  seat,  and

grabbed the take-out bags and a backpack. “I didn’t pick up any drinks. Thought we could use the vending machine here. I do have water, though.”

She squeezed her knees. Don was distracted. Not listening. It was a bad time to bring up such a volatile topic as Lily. “That’s fine.” She helped him stuff the food items into the pack.

Once out of the car, they walked through the lot. In a large grassy area, several adults watched children gather Easter eggs and place them in colorful baskets.

“There’s two trails.” Don paused to stretch his legs. “How about we hike the one that circles the lake?”

“Sounds good.”

He pushed up the sleeves of his sweat shirt, shrugged into his backpack, and they took off.

Approaching a small wooden bridge, they passed other hikers chattering amongst themselves. Don and Celeste paused to look at the lake. The surface shimmered in the sunlight.

“Did you see that?” Don leaned on the rail and pointed.

“What?”

“That fish—looked like a trout—jumped about four feet out of the water and then did a belly flop. I can’t believe you missed it.”

“I’m sorry. Preoccupied, I guess.”

He tossed his head. “Come on. The brisk walk will clear your mind. Always works for me.”

She slapped her legs and trudged alongside him. A male  and  female  cardinal  chirped  in  a  white  dogwood

tree gracing the dirt path, and a hawk soared overhead. The trail led through a shady grove of trees and up a gentle incline.

Don picked up the pace as a curly-headed boy around six-years-old sprinted past them, his father yelling after him. Twigs snapped under her feet as Celeste tried to match his stride. Her foot hit a rock, and she twisted her ankle. A sharp pain shot up her leg. She bent and rubbed the sore spot.

“You okay?”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Your face says otherwise. Let me take a look.” He guided her to a large, flat rock, and she eased onto the cool surface. He rolled her jean leg up while she scrunched her athletic sock into her sneakers.

He gently pressed on her bone. “That hurt?”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

He massaged her leg. His warm, strong hands felt inviting. He could keep that up forever.  “Wanna rest for a while?” he said.

She nodded, and he pulled out a canteen from his pack and handed it to her.

The aroma of grilling hamburgers wafted from the picnic area.

Don sat beside her, his thigh pressing against hers. A tingle rippled up her spine. She passed him the canteen. He took a swallow, then capped the lid and returned the container to his pack.

“Don, do you perform abortions?” Wow, there it was. Awkwardly out, into the wind.

“No.”

“No?” She twisted and gazed into his face. Liquid dread shot through her veins, tensing her torso.

“Personally, I don’t believe in abortion, but I do believe in a woman’s right to choose. So I refer her to a physician who does perform abortions.”

She relaxed. Fear eked out of her spirit and onto the ground, replaced by hope. Perhaps he’d understand then about her decision. “What if the woman was carrying your child?”

He picked at a patch of lichen growing on the rock. “Hmm . . . hard to say. I’m glad I’m not in that position.” He stood, shook his legs. Offering her his hand, he said, “You ready to move on?”

She stared at him. Was she? Oh, how she wanted to tell him Lily might be his child, but she’d best hold her tongue, at least until Social Services confirmed her maternity. “Sure.”

When he pulled her up, he gently pressed her into his chest. Tension hung thick between them. She knew what he wanted, and he soon followed through with a light peck on her lips.

Feet scuffed along the path as a young couple sporting shorts and hiking boots approached. They smiled as they passed.

Celeste’s face grew warm. Don grinned and snuck a more generous kiss before turning to resume the walk. She licked her lips and tasted a mix of salt and what? Aftershave? Chapstick?

They both grew quiet, pressing on past periwinkle

and ivy-clad oaks and maples.

She wrestled to process her feelings
.
One minute she felt guilty, like she was betraying Joe. The next minute, she wanted to fling herself with utter abandon into Don’s arms. She was weary of wavering between conflicting emotions. A flesh and blood man wooed her, and she longed for that very thing. Why fight it? Time to press into the love relationship she craved and missed so much. More convinced than ever that God brought Don and Lily into her life to be her family, she glanced at the sky and breathed a silent “thank you.” 

They approached a clearing. Two swallowtail butterflies chased each other and landed on a bush. A random spread of tables and grills peppered the grounds bordering the lake.

“Don, you know, I’ve been thinking—”

“Uh, oh.” He grinned and set his pack on the nearest table.

“Would you have time to come and speak to my kids? I know they’d love to have a real live doctor show them some of his equipment. It might help them overcome some of their fears.”

And introduce Daddy Don to his daughter.

###

“Wow! That was simply splendid. Splendid! That’s all I can say.” Martha stood at a table in the cafeteria where classes had combined for Don’s afternoon presentation. She brushed against his arm as he placed medical supplies in his doctor’s bag. “You really captured these kids.” Her words dripped like honey from the comb.

Standing beside Martha, Celeste exchanged glances with Don, trying to warn him with her eyes. A smirk plastered on his face, he didn’t appear the least bit interested in the red-headed gusher.

Such a shame. And all that primping Martha obviously went through. Extra makeup, perfume that would wilt a rose . . . and the hairdo. Might think she’d prepared for a prom. Curls piled on top of her head with a few tendrils cascading along the side of her face. She almost felt sorry for the woman. Almost. Celeste giggled under her breath.

Martha flipped her head and scowled at Celeste, then turned her attention back to Don. “I have to get my students to the classroom and ready for the bus. But you come back any time. In fact, I’d love to have you do a follow-up presentation for just my class. Never too early to teach good hygiene and health practices.” She winked and shimmied her shoulders.

When she sashayed from the table, Don’s hands tightened on his medical bag. “Whew!”

Celeste nudged him with her hip. “Now you know what I deal with every day.”

“I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy.”

“Can you hang around and meet Lily?”

“Sure. And I was hoping we could catch a bite to eat after school lets out. I won’t see you tomorrow. I’m on call.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” Couldn’t be more perfect since she was eager to break the news about Lily. Excited and nervous at the same time.

Along with Barbara and Amelia, she lined up her children and started for the classroom. Don walked beside her. She stopped at the door and allowed the children to file in. From a nearby table in the cafeteria, Randall Laverty caught her eye. He seemed to look right into
her soul with such longing, it embarrassed her. He stood and guided the preschool children, tossing a glance over his shoulder. She diverted her gaze and moved into the classroom.

“Okay, children, let’s settle down and get ready to leave.” Celeste’s words triggered Barbara and Amelia to collect sweaters and book bags. The smell of pencil shavings permeated the air. She released a contented sigh. Her students had worked hard that day.

With a toss of her head, she motioned Don toward the kitchen area. She called for Lily who sat at a nearby table, swinging her legs against the chair rung. Her tight ringlets bounced as she hobbled to Celeste. “Lily, this is Doctor Don.”

“I know.” Her lips parted in a generous grin.

Don squatted and peered into the child’s eyes. “Well, of course you do.”

Lily jerked her head. “See there, Teacher Tater.”

Celeste swept a curl from Lily’s shoulder. “Would you mind if Doctor Don looked at your arm?”

Lily shrugged, producing a lopsided grin that puffed one cheek. Just like her father. Would he notice?

“I’ll be very gentle. I promise.” Don held up his palm, then guided Lily’s arm out of her sweater. Sympathy shadowed his face.

Stooping beside them, Celeste looked at Lily, then at Don. “She’s never known any differently, of course. But I wondered if she might benefit from some type of prosthetic?” Certainly she wanted every advantage for the child, but her primary concern at the moment was establishing a connection between father and daughter. Appealing to the doctor in Don seemed the right path.

Parents showed up at the door, Sonya among them. She craned her neck, at last spotting the threesome huddled on the floor. She charged over. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

“Oh, no,” Celeste said. “Don’s just taking a look at Lily’s arm.”

Sonya straightened, folded her hands on her stomach.

“Don’s a doctor.” Celeste rose and considered her words, since Sonya appeared . . . what? Indignant? Agitated?

Lily tugged on Sonya’s jumper. “He show tongue press and dinoscope.”

“Steth-o-scope.” Don chuckled. 

“I thought perhaps he might have an idea about a prosthetic, that’s all.” Celeste waved at Luke’s mother as she greeted her son.

“Can I talk to you in private for a moment?” Sonya said.

“Certainly.” Heart thumping, Celeste guided her to the adjoining room. Sonya knew, and it was all about to come out. She’d have to regulate the conversation. Better yet,  she  ought  to call an attorney.  She should have done

that two weeks ago. Fighting against panic, she ran her sweaty palms down her slacks.

“I apologize if I seem on edge. I can’t talk much right now, but I wanted you to know we’ve moved forward with adopting Lily. Trouble is, our caseworker says another woman claims she’s Lily’s mother. The long and short of it—both the woman’s and Lily’s blood tests indicate she’s telling the truth.” Sonya dropped her head. “I wanted you to know.”

So, the test results came back. Why hadn’t Charlotte Donovan notified her? She clenched her teeth, struggling to maintain composure. “I understand.” She pressed a hand to Sonya’s back, nudging her to the main classroom. “Keep me posted on further developments.” Celeste needed to call Miss Donovan. And soon. But first, dinner with Don.

###

Celeste’s half-eaten burger sat on her plate. She dragged a fry through a dollop of catsup.

“You gonna eat that?” Don gestured, chewing his last bite.

She slid the plate in his direction. “Go ahead.”

A young couple emerged from a back booth, walked across the black and white checkered linoleum, and plopped some coins into an old juke box. A click then Elvis Presley’s velvety voice broke into the chatter of the recreated 1950’s diner.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Don popped a fry into his mouth. “What’s up?”

Her pulse pounded in her ears, and moisture gathered under her arms. “What did you think about Lily?”

“I think she could easily be fit for a prosthetic. That’s not my field of expertise, but I imagine with training, she could learn to function quite nicely with an additional limb.”

“Yes, good.” She frowned, swirled the iced tea in her glass. “Did you notice anything familiar about Lily?”

“No, should I?”

“Her eyes bear a striking resemblance to . . .”

“To whom?”

“To you.” She sucked in her lower lip and waited. Her heart pounded, threatening to crash through her chest.

He coughed a laugh, swiped a hand under his nose. “Yeah, I guess we both have blue eyes.” He shrugged.

“Not merely any blue eyes.” She swallowed. “Clear, intense . . . I don’t know, distinctive.”

“What are you getting at?” He wiped his hands on a napkin and tossed it on the table.