Masquerade (33 page)

She moistened her lips and looked away. At the counter, a little boy spun around on a stool while his father handed money to the cashier. Her gaze settled on Don
.
“I’m Lily’s mother.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t know, I mean, I only began to suspect a few weeks ago.”

Fats Domino roared to life. They needed to get out of here. Go someplace quiet. But her body remained glued

to the booth.

“So, that explains the search,” Don said.

“Yes. And it all started when I recognized the similarity between you and Lily. I looked in her school record and sure enough, she was born the same day . . . the same day . . .”

“The same day you had the abortion, right? I get it. Actually, it’s all too clear now.” His expression turned hard, distant.

She squeezed her eyes shut, then slowly opened them.

“But how do you know she’s your child?”

“The maternity test confirmed it.”

“Maternity test?” He held up his hand. “Wait a minute. What maternity test?”

“The one Charlotte Donovan, Lily’s caseworker, authorized me to take in order to verify my claim. Sonya told me before we left school that the tests match. But she doesn’t know I’m the match.”

Don scratched his eyebrow. “Who’s Sonya?”

“Lily’s foster mom. She and her husband are trying to adopt Lily.”

He shook his head, fished in his pocket, and pulled out a wallet. “And you’re telling me all this now, because . . .”

“Because it’s time. I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”

“What are you going to do?” His words sounded detached and clinical as he slid from the booth.

“I’m  not  sure.” 
Liar. You are sure. You want Lily,

and you want Don. You want a family.

She followed him to the register, then to the car. He didn’t even open her door this time. A queasy sensation filled her stomach. What had she done?

Jaw pulsating, Don stared out the windshield. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You carried my child, and you didn’t even tell me?”

“You
do
remember our brief fling then? Back in 1975? We were only together that one time, but you
do
remember? I thought—”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I remembered, and you knew I did, didn’t you? How could I not feel uncomfortable?”

“I loved you, Celeste. I wasn’t the one who left. You did. For Joe.” He smacked his lips. “That was a blow to the ol’ ego.”

“It seemed like you always had a flock of girls around you.”

“Yeah, everyone except the one I wanted.”

She rubbed her chin. “Where do we go from here?”

He turned the key in the ignition. “Home.”

“I’m sorry, Don. I really am. I thought the baby was Joe’s. He was gone. Mother insisted. I never wanted . . .” There she went again, blaming someone else. She straightened. “I planned to keep the baby. Joe would come back, and we’d be married. Then reality set in. I wondered

if Joe really would come back. Finishing college with my parent’s funding became the goal. I made a difficult choice, and I’ve lived with it all these years.” Her head woozy from the confession, weakness rendered her arms lifeless.

“I can’t talk about this right now.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, I understand. You need to process this news. I can’t imagine how shocked you must be.”

He glared at her, then pulled out of the lot and onto the road.

They passed familiar sites—an Exxon, Marsh’s Market, a couple window shopping. Bikers enjoying the spring weather. Life and light and beauty continued for everyone else it seemed, but not for her. The darkness threatened to suck her back into a never-ending tunnel.
What do I do now, God?

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Come on in, Randall. I mean, Joe.” In his counseling office, Stanley Hutchins held the door with one hand and a folder in the other. “Good to see you again.”

Joe lowered to the couch while Hutchins sat in his leather chair. A steaming cup of coffee rested on the lamp table beside him. The aroma caused Joe’s stomach to growl.

“I have to admit, I’m somewhat surprised. It’s been two months. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t plan on coming back.”

“So, why did you?” Hutchins laid the folder in his lap and took a sip of coffee.

“I need help putting my life back together again. But I think I’m on the right track.”

“What’s led you to this conclusion?”

“Well, I took you up on your suggestion, you know, to invest in someone else’s life.”

“I see. Tell me about that.” Hutchins glanced at a paper he retrieved from the folder.

“I chose to volunteer one day a week at The Brighton Center. The director assigned me to the preschool class. If the teacher has a hard time adjusting to

my face, she never lets on. Neither do the kids. They seem to look right past my appearance and into my soul. Especially Lily.”

“Lily?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard Celeste call her Golden Girl.” He smiled. “I think it’s because of her blonde hair. But to me, it’s even more than that. How can I say it?” He swirled his hands in front of his chest. “It seems like she brings light and happiness to everyone she’s around. At least, that’s the way it’s been for me.”

“It sounds like Lily has impacted your life. In what ways do you think this is true?” Hutchins shifted his weight, crossed his legs.

“Lily only has one good arm. She can’t run. Her speech is slow and garbled at times. But that doesn’t seem to discourage her. Whenever she sees me on the playground, she shuffles over and takes my hand. She’s always so happy to see me. Me, the real person inside, ya know?”

A heartfelt smile spread over Hutchins’ face. “Yes, Joe, I do know.”

“It’s like she accepts me for who I am. Scars and all.” He shook his head. “She even called me Jesus. Can you imagine that? Me? Jesus?” He snorted a laugh.

“Perhaps you reminded her of Jesus because of the scars He received from dying on the cross.”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking more about that, too. Like it’s all coming together for me. What you said during our last session, you know,

about Jesus knowing how I feel, about wanting to give me a new heart. And then Lily, well, she’s shown me what a new heart really looks like. I may not be able to do much about my face or hands, but I can do something about my heart.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to know how I can connect with God. I’ve had a lot of time to think. And I’m ready to move on, but I don’t want to do it—I don’t think I can do it—without Him.”

Hutchins reached for a Bible. “Can I show you a few verses?”

“Sure.”

Hutchins joined him on the couch
. He licked his thumb and flipped through the pages. “In Jesus' final prayer to the Father in John 17, He prayed for us.
In verse three, He said,
‘
This is eternal life, that they may know You the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.’
In John 14:6, Jesus claimed to be the way, the truth, and the life.

“
Amazing! God wants to give us eternal life and this life comes through His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. Are you following me so far?”

Joe kept his gaze glued on the Bible. “Yeah, I think so.

”Okay. So the question that begs to be answered—how do we receive this eternal life?”

Joe shrugged, pushed back the hair dangling at the side of his face. “I’m not sure. From what you’ve shared, I suppose  it  has  something  to  do  with Jesus dying on the

cross.”

“Yes, and the reason He had to die. You see
the bad news is, our sin separates us from a holy and righteous God.” He flipped more pages and read Romans 3:23. “None of us is good enough to make it to God on our own. Left to ourselves, we are each on the road to hell.” He read another verse—Romans 6:23. “Does this make sense?”

He nodded. It sure did. Over the years, he’d tried so many things—work, beer, even humor— to prove himself and to ease the ache in his heart. All temporary fixes. 

Hutchins continued, “The good news is, the Father moved heaven and earth to bring us home to Himself. He sent His perfect Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, to pay our sin debt by shedding His blood on a cross.” He pointed to Romans 5:8. “And then, Christ arose from the grave to show His victory over sin and death!” A huge grin lit up his face as he tapped his Bible. “See here—1 Corinthians 15:4. Read that verse.”

Joe leaned in and studied the words.

“Unlike any other religion in the world, Christianity is about a relationship with a living Savior,”
Hutchins said. “According to Romans 10:9 and 10, when we acknowledge our sinfulness and turn to Him as our Savior, He cleanses us, places us in His family, and promises us a home in heaven.” He closed the Bible and looked at Joe. “What have you learned from what I’ve shared?”

Joe rubbed his leg. “I’m a sinner. Jesus died for me. But now He lives for me.”

“Are you ready to take Him as your Savior?”

“Yes . . . Yes I am.” Joe dropped his head and poured out his heart to God. Tears he didn’t expect flowed down his face.

When he finished, Hutchins handed him a tissue box. Joe blew his nose and exhaled a deep cleansing breath. He took the book Hutchins held out to him.

“It’s a pocket Bible. A good place to begin reading is the book of John. There, Jesus will show you more of Himself. And your relationship with Him will begin to grow.”

Joe flicked his nose. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

“Now, have you taken any steps to reconnect with your wife?” Hutchins returned to his chair.

“Celeste. I see her once in a while at the center. I even passed along some money to her, just to help out, you know.”

“Have you told her who you are?” Hutchins tapped two fingers on his cheek.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Even if I wanted to, it’s too late now.”

Hutchins raised an eyebrow.

“She’s seeing someone else. Looks serious, too.”

“How do you know?”

He brushed a knuckle over his lips. “I used to park outside the house and watch her.” He put out his hand. “I know. I’m not proud of it. But at least I felt close to her.”

“You’re still married, and another man is pursuing your wife. She has a right to know the truth.”

“It’ll rattle her world.”

“My guess is her world has already been rattled. Can you step up, be courageous, and let God take care of the outcome?”

He clutched his hands, pondering Hutchins’ challenge. He’d started a relationship with Jesus today. Could he reestablish one with Celeste?

###

Celeste charged into the house after school, anxious to call Charlotte Donovan. Dropping her tote on the table, she lunged for the phone. She’d been crazy with anxiety all weekend trying to reach the caseworker, but to no avail.

She tapped her foot, waiting through several rings before the woman finally picked up.

“Hi, Miss Donovan. Celeste Tatem here.”

Silence on the other end. Was the caseworker calculating her words before dropping bad news?

“Sonya told me about the test match. She doesn’t know I’m Lily’s mother, though. She still doesn’t.”

“Good. It’s important we keep this professional and stay within legal bounds.” Her voice sounded flat and guarded. “Look, Celeste, this whole scenario does not bode well for you. Even under the best of circumstances, you would need to fill out paperwork and come under the scrutiny of DSS in the form of office and home visits. Your case would take months to process. With the abortion attempt thrown into the mix, well, your case could be in the courts for some time. I don’t think there’s a precedent for what we’re dealing with here.”

Celeste pressed a hand to her stomach. “But don’t the courts typically rule in favor of the birth mother?”

“As I said, this isn’t a typical case.”

“There’s more. I definitely know who the biological father is. He’s alive, and he lives here in Schreiber.”

A sigh traveled over the line. “Does he know?”

“He does now.”

“The court will order a paternity test with more forms to fill out.”