Masquerade (34 page)

“I know.”

“Does he want Lily?”

Celeste fiddled with her blouse collar. “This is fresh news for him. He’s still trying to adjust.”

“Does he know about the abortion attempt?”

“Yes.” Such a mess, this whole thing. “I think he’ll come around. He just needs time.”

“You want my recommendation? Sign Lily over to the Millers. Why yank this precious little girl from the only family she’s ever really known and loved? I encourage you: Look deep into your heart. And do the right thing.”

Do the right thing. After all these years of guilt and regret, wasn’t the right thing taking in Lily? Being the mother she should have been all along? And what about Don? Didn’t he have a right to claim his own daughter?

“I’ll think about it, Miss Donovan.”

“Don’t think too long. The longer you wait, the more tension you create for the Millers. They deserve better. I think you know that.”

After they exchanged good-byes, Celeste sat at the

phone table, clutching the receiver. She needed to talk to someone. Barbara, maybe. She shook her head. Her aide would likely rule in the Millers’ favor. No, she needed someone who really understood. Kate did; the nurse had said she’d help in whatever way she could to reunite Celeste and Lily.

Should I call Mother?
She leaned into the thought. After all these years of strain between them, could they really find their way back to each other? Her parents’ letter had certainly broken through her defenses. They’d changed, and so had she.

She dialed the number and waited. A bead of perspiration trickled from her armpit. No answer. She tried a second time. At last, Mother’s winded voice sounded on the other end.

“It’s Celeste.” She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “I read your letter. I need you. Can you come?”

###

All week long, Celeste second-guessed her call to Mother. What would it be like to actually face her? Awkward? A relief? Maybe both? The apology letter indicated new and improved parents. She’d changed, too. It was time to reconnect. That realization only somewhat calmed her nerves. She scurried about the spare room, smoothing the spread on the bed for the fifth time, picking lint off the carpet. When she opened the window, the room filled with the lilac scent of May and the sound of tires in the driveway. Her heart skipped a beat.

This is it.

She moved to the back door. As she reached for the knob, the door pushed open. There stood Mother on the stoop, arms extended. Father dragged a suitcase from the trunk. All the worries Celeste had entertained melted as she fell into Mother’s arms, sobbing. At that moment, neither had words. A strong hand squeezed her back.

“Father, oh, Father,” she whispered, her face pressed against Mother’s cheek.

“We’re here, Celeste.” Father smiled, and she stepped into his open arms. The world seemed to stand still in his embrace. Even the barking of the German shepherd didn’t matter.

“All right then, let’s get off this stoop and into the house.” Mother sniffed and waved her hands.

With a final squeeze, Father released Celeste and followed the women inside, case in tow.

Mother clapped her hands when she saw the spare room. “It looks wonderful, dear! You’ve added some touches. I don’t remember the rocker.”

“I bought it at a consignment shop. But that’s not important. I have so much to tell you. Can we sit and talk while supper cooks?” She led them through the kitchen where a roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions simmered in a crockpot.

Father paused to lift the lid. “Mmm . . . smells good, honey.”

Once in the living room, Celeste settled into the easy chair and drew her legs up. Mother and Father sat on the sofa.

Celeste  picked  at  her  thumbnail.   “So  much  has

happened since I last saw you. But first, I want to say ‘thank you’ for the letter. As I mentioned on the phone, I did finally read it. And I do accept your apology. It’s taken me some time, but I realize even though you encouraged the abortion, I chose to follow through. I’m sorry I held you at arm’s length.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I can only imagine how that’s hurt you.”

“We love you, dear. Let’s put all this behind us.” Mother looked at Father, and he nodded.

Celeste leaned forward, rubbing her leg. “We can put the abortion behind us, but there’s more, so much more, you need to know.”

“Oh?” Mother stiffened.

“I know this is going to be hard to believe, but my baby is alive. Of course, she’s not a baby anymore—”

“She?”

“Yes, Mother, a little girl. She’s so beautiful.” She gasped a sob. “Lily’s her name. She has my nose.” She hiccupped a laugh.

“A granddaughter.” Father reached for Mother’s hand.

“How can this be?” Mother massaged her throat.

Celeste spent the next hour telling them about the Miller family, Don, her suspicion about Lily, and her search for the truth. “So you can see from what I’ve shared, it’s not going to be that easy to claim Lily.”

Mother studied Father’s face. “We’ll get you the best lawyers. Whatever it takes.”

Father frowned and started to speak, but the words seemed locked inside him.

“What should I do, Father?”

“I can’t tell you what to do. Certainly, I’m overjoyed to hear my granddaughter lives,” he paused and looked at his shoes, “but . . .”

“But?” Celeste chewed the inside of her cheek.

“But this sounds complicated. You have the child’s best interests to think about.”

“What are you getting at, Thomas? Lily belongs with her true mother.”

“Yes, and who do you think that might be?”

A rap on the back door. Mother huffed and pushed off the couch. “I’ll get it, Celeste. You sit.”

Minutes later, Mother appeared in the living room, beaming as she stood beside Don. “You have a visitor, dear.” She gestured to Celeste.

At the back door, Mother nearly shoved them out. “You two go and have a good time. We’ve got food here. Don’t worry about us.”

Talk about a match-maker. She knew what Mother was up to, and it was the same thing Celeste wanted. Or at least she thought she did. Her confused mind battled her heart’s desire.

Don took her by the hand and strode to the backyard. A breeze rustled the towering oaks, and a woodpecker hammered in the distance. He pressed her onto the bench, then sat beside her. “We need to talk. No, I need to talk.”

Celeste clamped her mouth shut. Questions whizzed through her mind, but she kept quiet. The gentle breeze blew her hair into her face, and  she  swept the

strands away.

Don squeezed his laced fingers. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this week. Sure, I was angry at first, but I understand the circumstances, the pressure you were dealing with at the time. And of course, as fate would have it, Lily survived.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll get right to it—I love you, Celeste.” He pulled a small box from his pants pocket.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He opened the blue velvet box revealing an antique diamond ring. “This was my mother’s. I know if she were alive, she’d love you as I do.” He slipped from the bench, knelt on one knee. “Will you marry me, Celeste? Create a family with me?”

Lightheaded, she pressed a hand to her brow. Could it really be happening—her dream come true? She, Don, and Lily a real family? A flutter passed through her abdomen. “It’s beautiful, Don.”

He lifted the ring and took her left hand.

Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

“Yes!”

He laughed and slid the diamond onto her finger. It stuck on her knuckle. “We’ll get this resized for you.”

“At last we can all be a family. Lily’s finally going to have her forever family.” Celeste fingered the ring. “You can take the paternity test. Of course, it will all go through the court system, but together, we can do this.”

Don’s  smile  melted  into  a  frown.  He sank on his

heels and lowered his head.

“What’s wrong?” She touched his cheek.

“Lily has a family, Celeste.”

“What are you saying?” She dropped her hands into her lap and stiffened.

“I know this is difficult for you, but it’s time to let the child go. It’s the right thing to do. For Lily.”

Her eyes narrowed. “For Lily? Or for you?”

“For us.” He reached for her hand. “We need a clean break.”

“How can you say that when God brought Lily back to us? It’s nothing short of a miracle.”

“I don’t know how much God had to do with any of this, but I do know that entering a marriage with a handicapped child is a disaster in the making.”

“I work with physically and mentally challenged children all day long. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, eight hours a day. Do you really want to do it 24/7? Because I know I don’t.”

“She’s my child. I owe her. You owe her.”

“I knew nothing about this until a week ago.”

“You’re something, you know that? You get into bed with a woman—whaddaya think the possibilities are? You’re a doctor, for crying out loud.” She tugged on the ring, slammed it into his palm.

His fingers curled around the diamond. “Celeste, listen to reason.”

She tore from the bench and ran to the back door.

“Celeste!”  

CHAPTER THIRTY

Using a paper towel, Mother dabbed at the grease on six slices of bacon. “Maybe if you talked to Don again he’d understand, change his mind.” She set the platter on the table and sat down.

Father smoothed a cloth napkin in his lap and breathed in the aroma of scrambled eggs.

“He appeared resolute, Mother. As I am.” Celeste rubbed her temple, her eyes swollen from crying into the wee hours of the morning. “I’m not about to give up Lily now that I have her back. Not for Don. Not for anyone.” Not even Sonya. Guilt plunged through the door of her heart. She shook off the intruder. Lily belonged with her birth mother regardless of what Charlotte Donovan and Don said.

Celeste grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl resting on the counter.

“Sit down and eat, honey.” Perched on the edge of her chair, Mother poised her fork over her plate.

“I think I’ll go for a bike ride and clear my head.”

Father took a quick bite and tossed his napkin on the table. “Wait up. I’ll come with you.”

“I’d like that, but not right now. I need to be alone. Think things through.”

Father nodded. “Okay, maybe later.”

She moved to the utility room, scooped Barbara’s lily from the top of the dryer, and moved to the door. Mother’s voice sounded from the kitchen. “Don’t give up on Don. He needs time, dear.”

She jogged to the garage, placed the apple and plant along with a spade, into her bike basket and took off. She knew exactly where she’d go. The morning air soothed her aching eyes as she moved onto Maple Avenue. She pedaled faster, the wind whipping her blouse and jean legs. Down a hill, under the overpass, to the stoplight. She braked, waited for red to change to green, then turned to the left past the lake. Nearing the cemetery, she slowed, steered to the right and climbed the winding path to Joe’s gravesite.

The smell of fresh cut grass filled her nostrils as the grounds keeper mowed the lawn. She hopped off the bike and pressed the kickstand. “I brought you a flower, Joe, like I promised.” Holding the pot and spade, she knelt to the ground. She dug an eight inch hole close to the headstone. Then she gently extracted the lily bulb and dropped it into the hole, covering it with soil. She brushed her hands together, sat back on her heels. “There. That was easy enough. If only this whole Don-Lily thing were just as simple.” She lifted her face to the sky.

“Hello.”

She jumped at the voice and jerked her head around.  Cupping  her  hand  over  her eyes, she squinted.

“Randall? What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my parents’ graves. I like to plant fresh flowers every spring. I noticed you over here, and I wanted to say hi.” He held a cardboard box with an assortment of pansies. “What did you plant?”

“A lily bulb. I hope it’ll sprout next spring.”

“Lilies like their feet in the shade and heads in the sun.” He scanned the area. “I’d say you’ve got the ideal spot here. You might want to mulch it over, say two inches worth, to preserve moisture. And keep the weeds back. Next spring, you should fertilize until you see the flower bud. With proper care, your lily will likely bloom around June or July.” His voice, though raspy, sounded vaguely familiar.

“Wow, you know a lot about lilies.”

“Yep, lilies, mums, roses, just about any flower, really.” He smiled, and the scars around his mouth deepened. “Would you like a few pansies for Joe’s grave?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take any away from your project.”