An Unexpected Christmas Gift Page 8
Linda looked like a frightened rabbit trying to seek camouflage in the couch.
“How did you meet them?” Silas leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
Linda strained to get the words out, as if her body were wracked with pain. “I was working in Bird-in-Hand. Somehow this Englisch woman surmised I was in a motherly way.”
“You mean with child?” Naomi’s voice rose in pitch but not volume.
“I was seventeen years old.” Linda paused so long I wondered if she’d continue. I didn’t dare speak, couldn’t inhale.
Finally, she said, “Not even our mother suspected a thing. She was busy helping you and your new baby, Naomi.” Through her chalky white skin, a dark stain erupted on her cheeks. “I was so naïve. I never should have been alone with that boy, even if he was Amish.” She stared at the floor. “Anyway, the woman said that she and her husband wanted to adopt my baby and would give it the best of homes. In the meantime, I could live with them and do light housekeeping, so no one would be the wiser. I agreed on the spot. I didn’t even pack a bag. I just quit my job, asked my boss to tell our parents I was okay, and left with them.” She fluffed Saucy’s fur and received a lick. “She and her husband were very kind, so I have no regrets as far as they go. They were fine people.”
“Well, did you give birth to a child?” I asked.
“Yes, and I left my baby with the couple.” Her voice grew weak. “I promised never to contact them again as long as they took care of my dearest little child.”
“A girl or boy?”
“A—a girl.” Her face contorted. “I was afraid to hold her for fear I’d change my mind and want to keep the baby. I’d already promised to give her away. And I’d agreed never to reveal anything to anyone.”
I felt as though a giant hand was squeezing my heart. Could this woman who looked so innocent be playing me for a fool? Maybe she didn’t want me for a daughter.
“The couple lived in Connecticut?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“Yah.”
Silas broke in. “I demand you tell us the truth. No more deceit.”
“Yes, please,” Naomi said. “Why would you keep such a secret? Silas and I would have helped you raise the child.”
I felt light-headed. “What was the couple’s last name?”
“Romano.” Her moist eyes found mine. “Maria, if you’re my daughter, I’m so very sorry. If you’re not, I’m even sorrier.”
I hadn’t planned on this scenario. A cyclone of emotions whirled through me. White noise filled my ears.
Naomi wrung her hands. “Maybe we should do another DNA test.”
“No more tests.” Silas seemed to be containing a volcano of anger.
“How about if Charlene administered it?” Naomi beseeched him.
“I’ll give it some thought after I’ve spoken to the deacon and the bishop.”
“In the meantime, I float around in a state of limbo?” I sounded pitiful, even to me. “I need to know if Linda is my mother.”
“I’m sure of it.” Linda turned to face me. “The moment I saw you it was as if God Himself had brought me the greatest gift I could ever receive.”
Silas shook his head, but Naomi shushed him before he could speak. “I felt it, too,” she said.
How about me? What did I think? Now was not the time to get swept away into emotional decisions. I stared at Linda until her eyes met mine. “Who’s my father?”
“I don’t know for sure. I had a crush on an Amish boy my age. We went to a party with the wrong crowd. Ach, I drank too much. When I awoke in the morning, I was alone.”
“You have no idea what happened?”
“I remember drinking too much and feeling fuzzy-headed. I vaguely recall the young man . . . I must have passed out.” She blinked away a tear. “He was probably so drunk he doesn’t remember either. Can you see why I’ve not told anyone?”
“There’s never a good excuse for lying.” Silas’s balled fist rested on his knee.
“I know that.” Linda bowed her head. “If only I could turn back the clock, I would.” She took my hand. Hers was soft and gentle; her fingers tightened around mine. “Can you ever forgive me, dear Dochder?”
What other choice did I have? Did I really need a DNA test to prove she was my mother? No. Yet, I’d been duped before.
As if reading my mind, Linda spoke. “You had a birthmark . . .” With a trembling finger, she pointed to her forearm. “Right here.”
All eyes turned to me. I rolled up the sleeve on my left arm. I’d always hated that inch-long wine-colored birthmark. But today it was like discovering a vein of gold.
CHAPTER NINE
Linda reached out and gently took my wrist. She ran two fingers across my birthmark with care, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Then her eyes found mine. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Regret and sadness roiled inside me like an ocean wave against a jagged cliff. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you never did. I haven’t forgiven myself.” Her face blanched. “I wouldn’t blame you for hating me.”
I had no answer for her. I turned to Silas and asked, “What now?”
“We must forgive others as God forgives us. That’s all there is to it.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know if I believe in God.” And yet a wonderful world of possibilities spread out before me.
“Then we will pray for you, Maria.” He turned his gaze to Linda. “And we’ll pray for you, too, that you can accept God’s never-ending mercy.”
As her reality became three-dimensional in my mind—what she’d endured living without her only child—my heart softened. She’d made a promise to a stranger at age seventeen that she had no doubt regretted hundreds of times. Thousands.
Affection for her expanded in my heart. “I wish I had a Christmas present to give you.” I took her small hand and felt fragile fingers.
“You just did. I can never thank God enough for you—my unexpected Christmas gift.” She reached out to embrace me, and I slid over closer to hug her. With my arms around her, I felt as though I was finally whole. Could a one-day-old baby remember her birth mother? A deep sob inside threatened to erupt, but I held it in. Yet a moment later, we were both crying decades-worth of tears.
Naomi brought over a box of tissues. “I’m glad you told us, Linda. And we’re happy to include Maria into the family. She can continue to stay here with us for as long as she likes.”
“Yah.” Silas nodded, his beard moving up and down. “We have plenty of room. I feel certain you’re one of us, Maria. It’s not as if we don’t rent out rooms every once in a while, anyhow.”
I took a tissue, blotted my eyes, and blew my nose. Linda did the same. Her eyes, rimmed with pink, gazed at me as if I were the most cherished person on earth. Mom never saw me that way. Trish was always the center of her universe. Not that I held animosity toward our mother; she’d done the best she could.
“I’ve always loved you, dear daughter.” Linda’s voice quavered. “Never has a day gone by when you’ve not been on my mind and in my heart.” Her words were a balm to my soul. “God’s hand was in this. I know it.” She blew her nose again. “The Lord must have orchestrated this whole reunion.”
“I guess you’re right.” No way could it be random.
“Then you’ll eventually come live with me?” Linda asked.
I was speechless, unable to formulate an answer. Wasn’t this what I wanted—why I’d come here? What was holding me back? Fear of more disappointment?
I looked into Linda’s face and saw myself twenty years from now. I had no doubt she was my biological mother. I experienced her encompassing love. But I felt like a child unsure of herself.
“I don’t know.” A rogue tear slipped down my cheek. “Shouldn’t I get to know you first?”
“Yah, Maria, we should get to know each other first.”
“All things work for good for those who love Go
d,” Naomi said.
Silas harrumphed. “Who’s the minister in this household anyway?”
“Sorry, Silas. It just popped into my mind. But it’s true, isn’t it? I heard you saying that at church last month.”
As they spoke, I turned to Linda. Should I start calling her Mother or Mamm? I’d have to ask her later, after the colossal shock subsided and we were alone. We had much to talk about. Years to make up. I wanted to hear every detail of her life, without judgment. I inched closer to her, and we hugged each other again.
I could have stayed in her arms forever but heard, “Yoo-hoo.” I recognized Charlene’s cheery voice. When she saw Linda and me embracing each other, she stopped short. “Oh dear. Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Naomi and Silas said in unison.
Charlene’s lips turned up into a smile. “How is my patient doing?” Carrying her bag, she moved closer to Linda and felt her forehead. “I’ll take your temperature and listen to your lungs in a few minutes, but you feel cool. And there’s new color in your face—a glow, really.”
Troy stood in the doorway, his tall frame and broad shoulders filling the space.
“Come in, Troy.” Naomi got to her feet. “We have incredible news. Linda is Maria’s biological mother.”
“Really?” Troy sounded skeptical—not that I blamed him. “You had another DNA test already?”
Silas got to his feet. “We have all the evidence we need.”
“Does that mean she’ll be staying?” Troy asked.
“Yah,” Silas said. “Right here for now.”
Troy’s smile stretched from ear to ear and he sat down on the couch next to me. “In that case, I need to talk to Maria before I leave.” He swiveled to face me. “I know you want to spend time with Linda, but I need to speak to you. Okay?”
“Sure.”
Later, as the others chatted in the living room, my mind was still gyrating, as if the earth had propelled me into a new orbit. A better one. I had a new family!
Troy and I exited the kitchen and made our way through the chilly utility room for privacy. When we neared the back door, he stopped and turned to me.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“I should be, but I’m not.”
His arms slid around my shoulders. “Now that we’re alone, I can do what I’ve wanted to do ever since the moment I first saw you.” His face moved closer until his lips brushed mine. A short and simple kiss I knew I’d never forget.
“Maria, may I court you, as the Amish would say?”
My jaw dropped. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“Date you. See each other exclusively.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Yet I felt myself being drawn to him more than any man I’d ever met. “Everything is moving too quickly. So many changes.”
“I’ve been praying to meet the right woman. You’re just what I’d envisioned, and my mother agrees.”
“You know I have a lot of strings to unravel.”
“I won’t pressure you.” He kept hold of my hand, brought my fingertips to his lips. “But if you tell me there’s a chance, I will continue to pursue you.”
My heart swelled with the thrill of hope. In my mind I thanked God for Linda, my mother, and my extended Amish family. And my new beau.
“Yah,” I said. “All right.”
I was open to whatever came next.
Caramel Christmas Cake
²/₃ c butter, softened
1¹/₃ c sugar
3 eggs
2¼ cups sifted cake flour
½ tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
²/₃ c milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
Cream butter; gradually add sugar, beating until fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Combine flour, salt, and baking powder; add to creamed mixture alternately with milk, beginning and ending with the flour mixture. Stir in vanilla.
Pour batter into two greased and floured 9-inch round cake pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 25–30 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in pans for 10 minutes. Remove from pans and cool completely.
Caramel Frosting
½ c butter
1 c firmly packed brown sugar
3 T milk
3 cups powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
¹/₃ c chopped pecans or walnuts
Melt butter in a medium saucepan. Add brown sugar and cook one minute over low heat. Stir in remaining ingredients except nuts and beat until smooth. Add more milk if necessary for proper spreading consistency. After frosting the cake, sprinkle chopped nuts on top.
About the Author
Bestselling author Kate Lloyd is a passionate observer of human relationships. A native of Baltimore, Kate spends time with family and friends in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, the inspiration for the LEGACY OF LANCASTER TRILOGY and the LANCASTER DISCOVERIES series. Kate is a member of the Lancaster County Mennonite Historical Society. She and her husband live in the Pacific Northwest, the setting for Kate’s novel A Portrait of Marguerite. For relaxation and fun, Kate enjoys walking with her camera in hand.
Instagram: Bethany House Fiction
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
Newsletter: www.bethanyhouse.com/newsletter
Facebook: Bethany House
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
Recipe
About the Author
Back Ads