Masquerade (37 page)

let’s get back on track.”

“It’s too late.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

She tilted her head. “You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?”

“This is about what we both want.” He inched closer, placed his hands on her arms.

“And what’s that, Don?”

“Love. Each other.”

“And Lily.”

He studied her. “Has your association with me always been some kind of ploy to get that child?”

“No. I mean, not at first. But I did find you attractive, if that’s any consolation to you. And I was falling for you.”

“Did. Was. You act as though it’s over.”

“It is.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He tightened his grip. “We can work this out.”

She pulled away. The truth had to come out. She’d work through whatever consequences it provoked later. “No, we can’t. I’m still married.”

He dropped his hands. “What are saying, Celeste? Your husband’s dead. It’s time to let him go and move on.”

“I’m saying Joe’s alive.”

A gasp behind her. She turned to see Mother’s hand pressed to her mouth, her face ashen.

###

On Friday, Celeste held The Brighton Center door open  for  her  mother  and  father.  It  was the last day of

school, a half day. A short program followed by a picnic would entertain parents and guests.

“I’m so nervous.” Mother fiddled with the sash on her pale green pantsuit. “Not exactly the best way to meet Joe again for the first time. Or my granddaughter.”

“You’ll do fine.” Father hugged her, and she relaxed in his arms. His words soothed Celeste, too.

Actually, her mother had taken the news about Joe better than expected, after she recovered from her fainting spell. Celeste pressed a hand to her lips, stifling a giggle at the memory of her mother stretched out on the carpet.
Runs in the family, huh, Mother?

The doctor in Don had risen to the occasion—checking her mother’s breathing, elevating her feet, and applying a damp cloth to her forehead. When she regained consciousness, Father knelt beside her with a glass of water. Don excused himself. And Celeste grappled for a way to tell her mother about Joe without her passing out again. In the end, Mother listened—amazing in itself—and swept Celeste up in a congratulatory hug.

“I thought you didn’t like Joe,” Celeste said, skepticism seeping into her spirit.

“You only
thought
I didn’t like him.” Now sitting on the couch, Mother fluffed a decorative pillow behind her back and smiled, the color returning to her cheeks. “I’m happy for you, dear. Really, I am.”

“It’s not going to be easy the first time you see him.” She regarded Mother, then Father. “He doesn’t look anything like Joe, except for his eyes.”

“It  will  be  okay.  Everything’s  going  to  be okay.”

Mother lifted her chin as Father urged the glass of water into her hand.

But now, as they strode down the hall through the cafeteria and into Celeste’s classroom, she wondered if it really would be all right. Could her mother hold it together?

Mother set her purse on the counter. “Can we do anything to help?”

Celeste gathered a stack of certificates. “You and Father could roll these and tie a ribbon around each one, if you like.” Probably cruel to ask Mother to tie bows when she was so jittery, but perhaps the task would help distract her mind. She opened a cupboard and reached for a small basket. “Just put them in here when you’re finished. Barbara and Amelia will be here any minute, and Joe said he’d stop by before heading to the preschool room.”

Her mother wrung her hands as Father retrieved the supplies and moved to a table.

“Umm, might be better to work in the adjoining room. I’d like the certificates to be a surprise.” She also wanted privacy when she ushered Joe back to meet her parents. Who knew what their reaction would be? She struggled to breathe, fought the fluttering sensation in her stomach.

“Certainly,” Father said, picking up the materials, then gesturing Mother to follow him. 

They disappeared through the door as Celeste’s aides arrived. Since they’d been briefed on the upcoming events,  including  the  parent-Joe-Lily  introductions, they

studied her with gentleness in their eyes.

Barbara slipped an arm around Celeste’s waist. “You ready for today?”

Amelia stood on the other side of Celeste, nodding her head, as if she were answering the question.

Celeste restrained a nervous laugh. “I’ll be okay. Just pray for me.”

“That I can do.” Barbara gave her a squeeze as Joe walked into the room. The scent of English Leather entered with him. “We’ll get ready for the program. You two take as long as you need.” She winked. The gesture filled Celeste with confidence.

“This is it, Joe.” Celeste reached for his hand. In spite of the scars, it felt warm and inviting.

With a slight grin, he cocked his head. “I feel like I’m meeting your parents for the first time.”

They stepped into the adjoining room. Her mother’s back faced the door. Clutching a certificate, her hand froze and hovered over the basket. She sat for a few seconds until Father tapped her shoulder. Then she slowly turned to greet them.

Mother’s expression was flat, as if she’d trained herself for this moment. As her gaze took in Joe’s distorted face, her own features morphed into wonder, like she was examining a figure in a wax museum.

Ever the gentleman, Father stood, stepped toward Joe, and offered his hand, a smile crossing his face. When they shook, Father pulled Joe into a hug. “Welcome back, Son.”

Celeste bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes. 

“How do you know it’s really me?” Joe stepped back.

“I’d know that confident handshake anywhere. After all, I was the one who taught you how to do it, remember?” Father motioned to Mother. “Look, honey, it’s our Joe.”

Mother shook herself as if waking from a dream. Standing, she worked at a smile.

“It’s okay,” Joe said, scuffing his boot over the linoleum. “It’s taken me awhile to adjust to this mug. I don’t expect it’ll happen overnight for you.”

Mother moved toward Joe and took his hands in hers. She smoothed the rough skin with her thumbs. With tears glistening in her eyes, she looked into his face. “We’ve both changed.”

A sob caught in Celeste’s throat. In her wildest dreams, she hadn’t expected her parents to embrace Joe so readily.
Prayer does work, huh, Barbara?

Chatter erupted from the main room. Celeste sniffed, pressed her nose. “Well, sounds like it’s time for class to begin.”

“I’ll see you guys at the picnic.” Joe waved two fingers and exited the door.

Celeste, Mother, and Father joined the students and parents. One introduction down, one to go. She’d encouraged her mother and father to be discreet about their interaction with
Lily since the Millers didn’t know Celeste was the child’s mother. How she wished it was all out in the open. The secrecy surrounding Lily continued to gnaw at her nerves.

Celeste walked to the front, and a hush settled over the classroom. Mark sat on the edge of his chair, a clown grin locked into place. When she nodded his way, he stood and moved toward her. His action triggered six other students to follow, Lily among them. She handed each child a piece of construction paper with a letter written on it. One by one they turned around, at last spelling the word, W-E-L-C-O-M-E.

“Parents and guests, we are so glad to have you with us today.” Celeste nodded to Barbara who manned her post at the record player while Amelia retrieved a box of rhythm band instruments. “Your children have worked very hard this year. Music has served a vital part in their education. So, without further ado, I present to you the Merry Makers.” She collected the construction paper signs as Amelia passed out instruments.

On the ready, Barbara gingerly placed the needle on the record. An instrumental rendition of “
If You’re Happy and You Know It”
filled the air. At Celeste’s direction, the students joined together using clappers, sand blocks, bongo drum, tambourines, sticks, miniature cymbals, wrist bells, castanets, and a triangle. Overall, a uniform sound, except when Mark clapped the cymbals offbeat at a couple places. And Teddy, from note one, jiggled the tambourine with absolutely no sense of rhythm. But oh, how he loved it! His toothy smile was worth the dissonance.

After each song, the room exploded in applause. Luke grinned through yellowed teeth, sprigs of wiry hair jutting  over   his   forehead.   Jocelyn  swayed,  shoulders

hunched to her ears, trying desperately to hide her face. Mark turned red and covered his mouth with stubby fingers. Other children giggled, happy for the attention.

When the strains of “Rainbow Promise
”
emerged from the record player, Lily stepped forward and sang the first verse. She’d chosen the song because of her love for rainbows and her simple faith in a God who put them in the sky after the storm. She’d worked so hard to learn the four lines. Words which spoke of love, of dreams, and hope.

Celeste held her breath as Lily sang, willing the child toward success. She watched Mother and Father perk up. She’d told them Lily was the little girl with golden curls, vibrant blue eyes, and the voice of an angel. Surely, they couldn’t mistake their granddaughter. She shifted her gaze to Sonya. The woman drank in Lily’s song, guiding her through every word with a smile and a nudge of her head.

Lily’s dream would finally come true. At last she’d have her forever mommy. Celeste’s heart sank. But who would it be?

After the program, the children joined their families and moved to the playground for the school-wide picnic. Right outside the exit, under an awning, the cooks stood behind two long tables serving hotdogs, baked beans, and chips from cafeteria-size pans. Standing in line with her parents, Celeste spotted the Millers up ahead. One of the older boys placed a hotdog on Lily’s plate while his little sister jabbered in her ear. What she said, Celeste couldn’t make out.  Hopping on one foot, then the

other, she was clearly excited to be a part of Lily’s school day. Sam ushered the family to a nearby blanket spread under a budding weeping willow.

“Celeste, you gonna eat?” A voice drew her attention back to the table. Mrs. Sperry, one of the cooks, held a hotdog in her hand.

Celeste forced a chuckle. “Of course. Thank you.”

Plates filled, Celeste and her parents idled at the end of the line and surveyed the playground. Sitting with a group of preschoolers, Joe shot her a smile.

What a comfort to know he’d be coming home after the picnic. Home. Their home. It hardly seemed possible. Until then, she had to figure out a way to introduce Mother and Father to Lily. Joe knew that, and he’d be praying. Perhaps she made too much of the whole thing. What was the big deal? She was Lily’s teacher introducing her parents to a student and her family.
Just go over there and do it, Celeste.

She studied the Miller family. The toddler burrowed into Sonya’s lap while Lily snuggled against her side, baked beans plastered on her face. It wasn’t fair. Sonya had five biological children. Celeste only had one. Every maternal instinct within her cried out to claim what was rightfully hers. Yet the picture of family life before her, which included Lily, seemed complete. They moved in rhythm, helping one another, loving and laughing together. Could she really take Golden Girl away from them? Her skin bristled, and she straightened. She had every right. Perhaps, in time, they would adjust.

“Follow  me,  Mother  and  Father.”  Celeste moved

toward the willow, at last standing in front of Sonya. “Well, how did you enjoy the program?”

“It was wonderful.” Sonya squeezed Lily, and the child giggled.

“I’d like you to meet my parents, Thomas and Patricia Waite.”

“Not Waite! Tater! One Tater, two tater.” Lily’s mouth curled into a grin. “Three tater!” She popped up four fingers.

Celeste knelt in front of Golden Girl. “Well, kind of. I’m their little girl.” How would she begin to explain that Mr. Laver, as Lily called him, was really Joe, her husband, and his name was Tatem?

All in good time.

Mother stooped beside Lily. “It’s nice to meet you. Such a cute button nose, just like your . . .” She winced and gaped at Celeste.

Oh great, Mother!

Sonya narrowed her eyes, but remained quiet. Did she suspect anything?

“And, Mother, Father, this is the Miller family.”

Father helped Mother to her feet. “Nice to meet you all. Quite the splendid job you did with your song, Lily. I know your family is proud of you.” He placed his hand on Mother’s back. “Shall we go now, ladies?”

Celeste frowned and stood. She brushed off her slacks. “Yes, of course. Enjoy the rest of the picnic.”

“We will, Teacher Tater.” Lily stuffed a piece of hotdog into her mouth. “And you know what?”

“What?”  Celeste  folded  her  arms  and smiled, her

desire for Lily oozing through every pore, so palpable, she feared Sonya could see it.

“Mia and Hannah and me are gonna room out tonight.”