Authors: Lois Richer
A Baby by Easter (16 page)
Susannah bowed her head for the grace. The moment it was over she took her hand from his. She said little during the meal. She picked at her food, eating only a small fraction of what she was served.
“Are you all right?” he asked when Darla went to answer the phone.
“Fine. Just a little uncomfortable.” She smiled ruefully. “I'll get in the pool tonight and stretch everything out. That should help.”
“I'm sorry it's so hard on you,” he said, touching her shoulder. “I'd do it for you, if I could.”
She smiled faintly, her gaze finally meeting his. “Thank you,” she whispered.
While David cleared the table, Susannah helped Darla assemble the ingredients for cookies. But when he thought it might be best to leave the two alone with their baking, Darla suddenly said she had to finish her homework. David waved her off, then noticed how Susannah flagged, leaning against the counter.
“Sit down,” he ordered, easing her into a chair. “There's no need to bake cookies tonight. I can stop by a bakery tomorrow.”
“Darla said everyone is bringing some from home. She wanted to do the same.” She began pulling out ingredients.
“You are so stubborn.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Okay, tell me what to do.”
She would have argued but he guessed from the lines of weariness around her eyes that she was too tired. So he listened carefully and followed each step she gave until the batter was mixed.
“Darla and I will bake them later.” David was inordinately pleased with his accomplishment.
“You don't know how to bake,” she said with a frown.
“Three hundred fifty degrees for about eight minutes,” he repeated, and then added before she could interrupt, “and watch they don't burn.”
“Butâ”
“But now it's time for you to go home.” He held up a hand so she wouldn't argue. “You need to take care of yourself, Susannah. And that baby.”
“But this is my job,” she protested, though it sounded weak.
“You have done an amazing job. Darla and I both know that. You've gone way beyond anything I ever expected.” He drew her into the circle of his arms and pressed his lips against the top of her head. To his joy she rested against him and relaxed, letting him hold her. “I don't want you to overdo. Not now. So go home. Take the car. Please?” he asked, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes.
“You're a very nice man, David,” she whispered against his chest. “I wish⦔
So did he. Unfortunately wishing didn't make your heart's desire come true. And he couldn't badger her about it now. So David kissed her tenderly, then set her away from him.
“Go home and rest,” he ordered.
He waited while she gathered up her handbag. Her hand paused on the mints. She lifted her head to stare at him, green eyes shiny with tears.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“It's my pleasure.” And it was. Whatever he could do for her was so little and he only wanted to do more. “I love you.”
She searched his eyes, touched his cheek with her small delicate fingers then reached for the door.
“Good night,” she whispered.
He watched her get in the car, pull out and drive away as his sister emerged.
“Tomorrow is Susannah's last day, Davy. Then what will we do?” Darla's hand curved into his. Her troubled eyes searched his for reassurance.
“I don't know, Darla. Keep loving her, I guess.”
“And pray.”
Yeah. Pray.
Lord?
But the only answer David heard was “trust.”
“I
've got to get back to the office,” David said Saturday morning.
“Today? Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.” Susannah had been hoping he'd volunteer to take Darla to the museum, or at least accompany them.
Truth to tell, she hadn't felt well since she'd risen. Still wasn't. She had thought about backing out of this trip, but had been unable to deny Darla when she learned David would be working. Also, Susannah had greedily wanted a few more moments together before she was permanently out of their lives.
Like so many other things, that wasn't to be.
“I wish I could go with you, but I've got a big court case next week. It's my last chance to interview some people I intend to call as witnesses.” He held out an envelope. “But I wanted to personally make sure you got this.”
“What is it?” She stared at the plain white envelope curiously.
“A letter. Someone asked that I give it to you.” He tucked it into her purse. “Don't forget to read it, please. It might change your life.”
Susannah puzzled over that and over the kiss David gave her. It was deep and rich and satisfying, but there was also a longing to it. She kissed him back in spite of herself. When he finally drew back, he kept hold of her and stared deep into her eyes.
“I love you, Susannah. I wish you could accept that, because it's not going to change.” David laid a fingertip over her lips. “Don't say anything. Just know that if you ever need me, for anything, promise you'll call me. I'll come, no matter what. No matter what, Susannah.”
She nodded, but she knew she would not be calling him. This was goodbye.
“The same thing is true of God,” David murmured. “He's there waiting to hear from you. If you could only accept that God is about forgiveness, not condemnation. He loves you. He loves you so much He gave His only son for you. Because He thinks you are worth it.” He cupped her cheek, brushed his hand over her hair and cupped the back of her neck in his palm. “All you have to do is believe it.”
One last kiss, then he was gone.
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“Did you see that?” Darla asked, hours later.
“Uh-huh.” Susannah smiled but continued her search for a chair.
“I got that little girl to move back from the edge so she wouldn't get hurt and I didn't yell at all.” Darla preened, her chest thrust out.
“I'm very proud of you.” No longer appreciative of the vista in front of her, Susannah shifted from one foot to the other, trying to ease the ache in her lower back. She wantedâno neededâto sit down after tramping around the desert museum for the better part of two hours.
“I got those kids to be quiet in the underground
exhibits, too,” Darla reminded. “They wouldn't listen at first, but then I explained how the animals like to sleep in the day and work at night, and the kids stopped making so much noise.”
“You did a fantastic job.” Susannah smoothed her hair and smiled at the triumph on Darla's pretty face. “Should we go have lunch?”
“Not yet. The docentâ” Darla paused, serious. “That's what they're called, docents,” she explained.
“Uh-huh.” Susannah forced herself not to smile.
“Well, the docents said there is going to be a demonstration of the raptor free flights.” She checked her watch. “That's in ten minutes.”
Susannah wanted to groan. The raptor area was way at the back. She knew she could not walk that far right now.
“Listen sweetie, can you go with the docents and stay right beside them?” Guilt overwhelmed her at letting Darla go alone, but she'd waited so long to see the birds and the raptor flights were a seasonal thing. “I'll stay here.”
“Are you sick, Susannah?” Darla tilted her head to one side and studied her with those wise-owl brown eyes. “I don't have to see the raptors,” she decided.
“Yes, you do. And I'm fine. Just really tired and hot. I'm going to sit down right over thereâ” she pointed to the nearby coffee bar “âand wait for you. Okay?”
“Are you sure you're not sick?” Darla frowned.
“I'm not. I'm fine. I'm only tired,” Susannah reassured her.
“Because of the baby,” Darla said. “Pretty soon I'll see it, won't I?”
“I think so. Pretty soon.” She rubbed her side as a funny little cramp uncoiled.
“I asked God to make your baby strong, Susannah. I pray for it and you every night.” Darla trailed along beside her until they found a chair where Susannah could sit, still visible, but out of the hot sun.
“Thank you, sweetie. I appreciate your prayers.” Susannah saw one of the many volunteers nearby. She handed Darla some money and asked her to buy two cold drinks from the vendor inside. Left alone, she waved over the docent and explained her situation.
“It's not a problem, ma'am. I'll be happy to take her to the raptors, and I'll bring her back when it's over,” the girl said.
“Thank you very much.” Susannah shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“Are you okay? Can I get someone to help you?”
“That's very kind of you, but I just need to sit awhile. I'll be fine.” When Darla returned, Susannah thanked her for the drink and introduced the girl. “You go with her and come back with her,” she said firmly. “Don't wander away.”
“I won't.” Darla hugged her tightly. “You rest. I'll be back.”
“Have fun.” Susannah waited until they'd disappeared, then closed her eyes and sipped her drink. Five minutes later she felt much better.
Then she remembered the envelope in her bag.
Now Susannah lifted the envelope free and opened the flap. A single sheet of paper was inside, plain white with writing scrawled across it.
Dear Susannah:
I write that because you are dear to me. So precious. You are the best thing to come out of my stupid, wasted life. I know that now. A daughter
who took over when I wouldn't. How can I ever thank you? I can't. And I owe you so much. Most of all, I owe you an apology.
Susannah's breath jammed in her throat as she read on.
Susannah, I want you to hear me on this. And hear me well. You did not cause your sisters' deaths. I did. That night I was in a drunken stupor. Some ash from my cigarette fell on me and burned my leg and I realized the sofa was on fire, so was the carpet. I ran to the kitchen to get some water. I thought I could put it out. But it was in the drapes then and flaring. The smoke was so thick. I tried, but I couldn't reach Misty and Cara. They'd fallen asleep, waiting for me to tell them a story. A fireman told me later that they never woke up.
Every breath was agony as Susannah remembered their happy, smiling faces. How could God let two small lives be taken like that? The familiar tidal wave of loss filled her with pain that reached into her soul and squeezed.
Susannah wanted to stop reading. She wanted to fold up the letter and hide it away and never look at it again. But she couldn't. The past had dogged her for so long. The desperate yearning to hear from her mother, long buried deep within, now would not be silenced. The truth.
She needed to hear the whole truth about that terrible night.
Sniffing back her tears, she refocused on the scribbled words.
I wanted to die with them, Susannah. I wanted to go with Misty and Cara and be rid of my awful life. But you came and found me in the kitchen and pulled me out. I hated you for keeping me alive. I wanted to die and you wouldn't let me and the pain was excruciating. So I lashed out and said it was your fault they diedâbecause I needed to get rid of my own guilt.
Oh, Susannah, until your boyfriend came to see me, I never realized that no one had ever told you the real truth of that awful nightâthat you were not to blame. All these years I've kept away from you, distanced myself because the guilt and the shame were so great when I looked at you that I knew I could never be the parent you needed, that I could never be worthy of being entrusted with another child. So I pushed you away and made sure you didn't come back. But I've missed you.
David? David had gone to see her mother? But then, it fit with what she knew of him. David Foster had shown time and again that he loved her. No wonder Darla liked fairy tales. Her brother was hero stuff through and through.
Susannah, you are not like me. You never were. You are strong and courageous and the best mother to your sisters that they could have had. They loved you so much. And you loved them. It was not your fault they died. You did your best, even tried to get to them. No sister could have done more.
Susannah blinked through the tears as the devastating scene from that night replayed through her mind again. But this time it had a new part, a part she'd never
recalled until now. A part where she remembered pushing open the back door, seeing her mother on the floor and dragging her outside. As if in a trance, Susannah felt the heat stinging her hands as she knocked away a burning chair and slapped at her mother's dress to put out the flames. And now she also remembered lying on the lawn, gasping for air, struggling to inhale enough oxygen to go inside and find her sisters.
She'd made it to the door before the firefighters had stopped her. They'd put a mask over her mouth and something cool on her hands. The next thing Susannah recalled was awakening in the hospital with bandages on her hands and face and a terrible sadness in her heart for the sisters she knew were gone.
For so long she'd forgotten those details. That's why her mother's screams of blame had stuck. That's why she'd never questioned that it was her fault that Cara and Misty had died. That's why she'd always felt so guilty.
Because she'd forgotten the truth. The truth.
Bemused by this new insight, she glanced down.
Your young man loves you, Susannah. Don't throw it away because of my mistakes. Love doesn't come so often that we can waste it. Your sisters would want you to be happy, to enjoy your life. I don't know much about God, but your boyfriend has made me think that He might someday forgive me.
You are more than I will ever be, Susannah. I know that no child of yours would ever be without your love. And love, more than anything, is what we need to survive. You were always fearless as a child, Susannah. Be fearless now and embrace your life.
Your mother.
She wasn't guilty. She hadn't caused their deaths. It wasn't her fault.
The words kept racing around and around her brain, rejuvenating her soul with relief and joy. After reading the precious words once more, Susannah refolded the letter and tucked it back into its envelope. A tiny slip of paper lay there. She pulled it out and read it.
It's in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone.
Ephesians 1:11-12 from The Message.
David. Dear darling David, who had gone to see her mother, dug until he found the truth and made sure Susannah knew it. David who'd said he loved her so many times and refused to give up on her. Davidâa man who practiced love.
Carefully, Susannah placed her precious papers in her purse. How could she ever thank him? As she sat waiting for Darla, she tried to think of ways to tell him what his actions meant to her. And yet, she couldn't do that. It would be too painful and he might think that she'd changed her mind about marrying him. Which she hadn't. Not because she didn't love him, but because she did.
Her thoughts got sideswiped by a rip of pain through her midsection. It dulled to a steady ache that would not go away even after Darla returned and they went for lunch. Susannah ate a little to keep her strength up, but as the day went on, she felt progressively worse.
“Susannah, we should go home.” Darla frowned when Susannah declined to enter the aviary but insisted Darla go without her. “You're too tired.”
“I just need to walk a bit more. When I walk I feel better. Go ahead. I'll be out here.” But eventually even walking didn't help and when the museum announced they would be closing in five minutes, Susannah was forced to agree that they should leave. But she asked Darla to buy her some bottled water first. “I'm really thirsty,” she said.
“Because it's too hot for you,” Darla said. She trotted off to get the water but quickly returned, her face showing her concern. “I wish I could drive.”
“I'll be fine once I'm in the air-conditioning.”
Only Susannah wasn't fine. She'd no sooner sat down in the driver's seat when her water broke. She turned on the radio.
“I need a minute to hear the news,” she said, desperate to keep Darla from knowing how scared she was.
The baby was coming. Susannah had read enough to know that. It was simply a matter of how long she had before it arrived. She shifted into gear and began the drive home.
She'd gone only a few miles when a fierce contraction grabbed her. Susannah pulled into a vista point along the way and told Darla to go ahead and look. As soon as Darla left the car, Susannah began breathing the way she'd learned in Lamaze class. She puffed through the contractions before Darla returned.
It was well past six now. The road from the museum was almost deserted. Easter weekend. People were home with their families. Susannah bit her lip as another contraction hit. She tried to keep her concentration on the road but they were too strong and too fast and there was so little time to regroup in between. She veered sideways and felt the car lurch to a halt as the front wheel struck
a huge stone at the side of the road. The grinding sound of metal made her cringe.
“Darla, are you okay?” she asked, fighting to breathe through the ferocity of this contraction.