Masquerade (38 page)

“Camp out, Lily,” Mia gently corrected. “Camp out.”

Sonya’s face flushed. “In the girls’ bedroom. Not outside. It’s too chilly for that just yet.” She twitched her nose. “Kind of an end-of-school-year tradition.”

“Yeah, daddy rigs up a tent for our room and a tent for Anthony’s and Matt’s room. We toast marshmallows over the stove and drink hot chocolate and stay up late telling stories with a flashlight.” Hannah’s excited words tumbled out fast and furious.

“I see. Well, sounds like lots of fun.” Celeste clapped her hands, feigning more joy than she felt. She could provide entertainment, too. Maybe she didn’t have a houseful of brothers and sisters for Lily, but she and Joe had much to offer. Surely, they deserved a chance to love Lily as part of their family.

Didn’t they?

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

A month later, Celeste rummaged through the trunk in the master bedroom and located the sought-after item. When she stood, strong arms wrapped around her waist and a whiskery kiss tickled the back of her neck. She pivoted in Joe’s embrace. 

“You sure you want to do this?” He cupped her face in his hands and studied her eyes.

“I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I have to.”

“
We’ve
given this a lot of thought.”

“Yes, we have. Thanks for understanding.”

He stroked her cheek. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll be along in a minute. I need to do something first.”

“I’ll wait in the car.” Joe smiled and left the room, whistling his way through the kitchen.

When the back door closed, Celeste knelt by the bed, clutching the treasure to her chest. “Father, give me the words to say to Sonya. Help everyone who loves Lily to understand. Give us all strength to make the necessary adjustments.” With a final amen, she stood, inhaled a deep cleansing breath, and walked to the Plymouth.

A quiet aura hovered over Celeste and Joe as they

pulled onto Maple Avenue. Even in the stillness, she sensed his prayers. As they passed the Corner Coffee Shop, she remembered the meeting with Kate. How the nurse had believed in her and rallied around her efforts to reestablish connection with Lily. She’d needed that boost of confidence.

Outside of town, cornfields zipped past the Plymouth like ballerinas spinning on a stage, an occasional red barn and silver silo dotting the landscape. Heat radiated from the asphalt, and the summer sky boasted cumulus clouds. “Floppy elephants,” Lily called them. Celeste smiled at the memory.

At last, they pulled into the Miller’s driveway, and Joe cut the engine. Children’s voices rose from the backyard.

Celeste swallowed hard. “Well, this is it.” Palms perspiring, she reached for the door handle.

“I’ll stay out here, play with the kids, or take a walk,” Joe said. “But I’ll be around if you need me.”

“Thanks.” The knot in her stomach grew by the second.

Tiger lilies bloomed beside the steps as she walked to the front door, clutching her wrapped treasure. A timid knock at first.
I can do this.
Then a bolder rap, rap, rap. The door opened, and Sonya stood on the other side wiping her hands on a green dishtowel. Her hair was fastened on the top of her head by a clip, a few wayward wisps loose around her face and neck. Instead of her typical jumper, she wore pale blue culottes and a loose-fitting   blouse.   The   house   smelled   of   muffins,   dirty

sneakers, and wildflowers. An odd mix, but in reality, everything that made up a happy and active household.

“Please, come in.” Sonya moved aside.

“Thanks for having me. I’m sure I must have sounded rather mysterious over the phone.” Celeste navigated around a basket of toys and sat on the sofa.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something.” Sonya stood in the archway between the foyer and living room.

“Yes.” With her treasure resting in her lap, Celeste fingered her wedding band. She felt a measure of security with the ring back in place.

Joe. She had Joe. What a comforting thought.

“Would you like a banana muffin?” Sonya said. “Fresh out of the oven.”

“No, thank you.”

“Lemonade? Lily helped squeeze the lemons this morning.”

Sadness tugged at her heart for all that would have been. “Ah . . . yes, perhaps a little.”
She laid the item beside her, moved to the window, and lifted the ruffle on the sheer Priscilla curtain. Lily’s laughter filled the side yard as she kicked a large rubber ball, then hobbled as fast as she could to first base.

“Way to go!” Hannah screamed from second base, and Lily punched her thumb in the air.

“They’re sure enjoying their break.” Celeste turned at the sound of Sonya’s voice. Accepting the glass from her hostess, she returned to the sofa.

“Yes.   Lots   of   sunshine   and  play.   I’ve   always

thought kids grow more during the summer months.” She sipped her lemonade. The tartness stimulated saliva and quenched her dry throat. “Have you heard any more news from Miss Donovan?” She set her glass on the end table.

Sonya removed a doll from the rocker and sat. “Nothing new, really. We’re still waiting on the birth mother to sign, if she ever does. According to Charlotte, she hasn’t sought out legal counsel yet. But if she does, Charlotte says we have solid grounds to fight for Lily. I’m not clear about what she means, since she’s bound by confidentiality, except to say that the woman may be unfit in some way to care for the child. Then of course there’s the biological father walking around somewhere.” Sonya pushed her feet on the floor, causing the rocker to sway. “Anyway, we haven’t pursued a lawyer yet. We’ve put the whole thing in God’s hands, enjoying each day we have with Lily.”

“I see.” An ache emerged between Celeste’s shoulder blades and pierced straight through to her heart. She rubbed her breastbone, quietly studying the wrapped item beside her. “What if the mother came to you and shared her story?”

Sonya rested her arms on the rocker and eyed Celeste. “Do you think she would do that? It might work against her if she wants to claim Lily.”

“What if the circumstances surrounding Lily’s birth were horrible? I mean . . . really horrible? You mentioned Miss Donovan telling you the mother was unfit somehow. Do you think you could ever find it in your heart to forgive such a woman?”

With clasped hands, working one thumbnail over another, Sonya stared past Celeste. “If God could forgive me for all I’ve done over the years, then I must be willing to forgive others.”

“Even if she attempted an abortion?” She expected to see shock on Sonya’s face. Instead, she saw pity.

“I’m a mother. It hurts terribly to think a woman would kill her own child.”

A wave of nausea swept over Celeste.

“But, if Lily is an abortion survivor, if this is her mother’s story, then I know God can redeem it for His glory. Lily is living proof.”

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, Celeste reached for the item beside her and slowly pulled away the newspaper. “Yes. And I’m living proof. He used her to touch my heart and draw me to Him.” In her hands, she held the Winnie-the-Pooh needle point picture bordered by an oak frame. “My college roommate gave this to me when I discovered I was pregnant. I want Lily to have it.” She dabbed at a tear in the corner of her eye and handed the picture to Sonya.

“She’ll love it. Pooh is her favorite stuffed animal,” Sonya said, face brimming with warmth.

“I don’t understand. How did you know I was Lily’s mother?”

“I think in my heart,” she paused to pat her chest, “I’ve known for some time.”

“I’ll sign the paper.” Somehow the words weren’t as difficult to say as she’d thought they would be. “Lily’s already  found  her  forever mommy, the one she’s had for

the past five years.”

Wiping a tear away, Sonya moved to the sofa. “Thank you, Celeste. I’ll take good care of her.”

“I know.” She sucked in a breath. “I better go see Miss Donovan before I change my mind. And don’t worry about the birth father. I don’t think he’ll give you any trouble.”

When Celeste walked outside, Lily bounded over, cheeks rosy from play. “I’m exercising to get the tiredness out of my face.”

She chuckled through her tears. “Oh, I see.”

“Can you stay, Teacher Tater?”

She knelt in front of the child. “I’d love to, Lily, but it’s time for me to go.”

Golden Girl touched Celeste’s cheek. “You been crying. What’s wong?”

“Oh, I just had to give up something I really wanted.”

Tiny wrinkles creased Lily’s delicate brow, and she shook her head. “I sorry. That happen to me the other day. Sonny say I couldn’t have ice cream cone. I got real…ly upset.” She punched her fist on her thigh.

Celeste laughed and squeezed the child. A sob caught in her throat. She glanced up to see Sonya watching from the window. When she stood, Joe appeared from the backyard and offered his hand. Together, they walked to the car.

“See you in September,” Golden Girl yelled.

“No, Lily, I think it will be sooner than that.” Surprised,  Celeste  turned  to  see  Sonya making her way

down the steps. What did she mean? “I think some Saturday play dates are in order, don’t you?” Sonya hugged the child and winked at Celeste. 

AUTHOR INTERVIEW

If you wrote an epilogue for this story, what would it be?
 

If I wrote an epilogue, a court-ordered test would confirm Don’s paternity, and he would readily sign over Lily for adoption. Celeste and Joe would give birth to a baby boy about eighteen months later. At the suggestion of Barbara, they would name him, Isaac (“God laughs”). Lily would come over on occasion and sometimes stay the weekend.

What inspired you to write
Masquerade
?

Two things: I wanted to take a trip down memory lane, returning to a time when my husband and I were newly-married, thirty-nine years ago. I also wanted to highlight abortion, showing the struggle that many mothers have in the wake of aborting their babies.

Are any particulars of the story based on your own experiences?

Yes. The adorable white-frame dollhouse is modelled after Chuck’s and my first house when we lived in Warsaw, Indiana. I drove by the house every day on my way to the Cardinal Center where I worked as (you guessed it) an aide with mentally-challenged teens. When the FOR SALE sign went up in the yard, I begged Chuck to take me for a tour of the home.

As an aside, as far as I know, there is no Schreiber, IN. As with most of my novels,
Masquerade
is a combination of both fictional and real places.

Your stories typically revolve around an issue that is red-hot on your heart. Why did you choose abortion to profile in
Masquerade
?

Psalm 139 details how a loving God carefully and meticulously fashions each one of us in the womb, thinks about us day and night, covers us with His hand, and numbers all our days. We are made in His image. So, both pre-born babies and their mothers are precious to God. To destroy a life He has created is to tamper with His image. And that breaks His heart. I want to be a person who shares the heart of God.

In addition, I want women who have undergone abortion to know that God loves them, just as deeply and completely as He loves their babies. Through Christ, He wants to draw them close, forgive and heal them.

Does the story hold any particular meaning for you personally?

Yes. In 1981, my husband and I lost our second baby at four months gestation—a perfectly-formed baby boy spanning the length of the obstetrician’s hand. He called it a “spontaneous abortion.” We called him David Nathaniel.