“Please sit down, Susan.” Joshua gestured a welcome. Lips parting, Abra stared at him. He went to her and put his arm around her. “Let’s talk this over. Please.” He could feel Abra shaking. Shock or fury? Her body felt cold. He rubbed her arms and spoke gently. “You’ve been dreaming about her again. Remember? You need to find out what happened.”
Abra leaned into Joshua for support and let him do the talking. He asked Susan to tell them everything.
Susan’s voice was soft, broken. “I was seventeen and thought I knew everything. My parents warned me about the young man I was seeing, but I wouldn’t listen. When I got pregnant, he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I’d been such a fool. I managed to hide my pregnancy until the end. And then the pains started. I was so scared and ashamed. I didn’t know what to do. I took the keys to my father’s car and just started to drive. I didn’t know where I was going. I just wanted to get away, far away. I passed the turnoff to the coast and then thought about turning around and going back. I thought maybe I could drive off a cliff into the ocean and no one would ever know what happened to me or what I’d done. But the pains were so bad by then. I pulled off the main road. I saw Riverfront Park and stopped. It was so dark . . .
“I can remember it like it was yesterday. I can still hear the crickets in the grass. There was a full moon. I didn’t know what to do, but I had to get out of the car. My contractions were coming faster and faster. I thought maybe I could find shelter, someplace hidden. I tried the ladies’ room, but it was locked. I wished I had stopped sooner, checked into a motel, but it was too late.
“I was so afraid that someone would hear me. And I’d felt such hope when I found out I was expecting you. My boyfriend had said he loved me. He’d said if I really loved him, I’d give myself to him, and I did—heart, mind, body, and soul. Then when I told him I was pregnant, he didn’t even believe the child was his. If I gave myself to him, I’d probably given myself to others. He said, ‘Why should I believe you? It’s your problem, not mine.’ He dropped me off at my parents’ house and never came back. I was such a fool.
“Somehow, I managed to reach the shadows beneath the bridge. I knew no one would see me there. The sound of the river would muffle my groans, and there would be water to wash with when it was all done. When you were born, you were so quiet, I thought you were dead. And to be honest, I thought it was for the best. You lay there, so pale and perfect on a dark blanket of earth. It was too dark to see whether you were a boy or girl. I pulled off my sweater and laid it over you. I didn’t know where I was going to go, but I had to get out of there. I knew I would never be free of guilt and regret. I never deserve to be. I was planning to find some place to kill myself. But in the end, I didn’t even have the courage to do that.”
Abra bent over, putting her hands over her head, not wanting to hear any more. Joshua told Susan to go on. When Abra looked up at him, she saw he understood. She had told him everything, hadn’t she? She had confessed the worst of what she’d done back in Agua Dulce, and he still loved her. Susan’s words sounded like her own. Seventeen . . . thought I knew everything . . . Everyone warned me . . . I was a fool. Like mother, like daughter. Abra wept. Her nose ran. Joshua got up and came back with two handkerchiefs, one for her and one for Susan, who sat sobbing a few feet away.
“It’s going to be all right.” He was talking to both of them.
Was it?
Gulping down tears, Abra looked at Susan and saw her own anguish mirrored there. “Who was my father?”
Susan clutched the handkerchief in both hands. “No one you should ever know.” Susan lifted her head and looked at Abra sadly. “He was handsome, charismatic, and spoiled. He came from a wealthy family and thought he owned the world. I wasn’t the first or last girl he used and threw away.”
“That’s why you warned me about Dylan.”
“I tried.” Susan’s eyes were full of regret. “I knew what that boy was the minute he walked in the diner.”
“And I wouldn’t listen.” She studied Susan’s face and searched for similarities. “Do I look like my father?”
“Not at all.” Susan’s voice turned wistful. “You look like my mother, actually. She had red hair. But you have my hands.” She held hers out so Abra could see the long fingers, the shape of her nails.
Abra leaned back against Joshua, taking comfort in his solid support, his warmth. She looked into Susan’s eyes and felt her pain. Twenty-three years of it. “Did you go home after that night?”
“After a few days in a cheap motel. I never told my parents what I’d done, but they knew something had happened. I wasn’t the same after that night. I did finally try to commit suicide, but my mother found me. I went back to school, but I couldn’t concentrate. I got a job as a waitress down at Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“I was a waitress in Agua Dulce.”
Susan smiled faintly. “I know. Zeke told me.”
They looked at each other, really looked. She’d always wondered who her mother was. She understood now why Susan had paid such attention to her when she came into Bessie’s, why she sought her out and spoke to her, why she’d been so adamant about grabbing love and hanging on to it.
“I cried all day after you were born. I knew I had to go back, but I saw a newspaper the next morning outside the motel. The headline said a pastor found an abandoned baby in Riverfront Park. I thanked God you survived. You were in good hands. I knew you’d be all right. I thought I could forget.”
“But you couldn’t.” Abra knew how that felt.
“No. I couldn’t.”
Joshua filled the silence. “Can we meet your parents?”
“They’ve both passed on. An automobile accident. I moved around a lot after that. I have pictures of them, if you’d like to have them.”
“Please.”
“I’ll make sure you get them.” Susan’s eyes remained full of pain. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you and wondering. That’s why I came back to Haven, to find out what happened to you. You hear everything at Bessie’s.” She glanced at Joshua. “I heard all about Marianne Freeman. She must have been a wonderful lady.” She turned her focus back to Abra. “Peter and Priscilla had adopted you. They wanted you from the beginning. Bessie talks a lot—kindly, of course. She knows about everybody.” She gave a faint, sad smile. “Well, almost everybody. She doesn’t know about me.” She focused on Abra. “You spent a lot of time there. When you ran away with that boy, I kept praying you’d come back.”
So much made sense now. “You always seemed interested in what I had to say.”
“I was. Very interested.”
“Dad knew, didn’t he?” Joshua sounded certain.
Susan’s smile was pained and self-deprecating. “I told him a few years ago, but he already knew.” She flexed her fingers. “Maybe it was my hands that gave me away. Zeke said God just opened his eyes.”
Abra’s eyes filled. She knew what he meant. She looked at her mother and saw herself.
Susan sighed. “I know it’s too much to ask you to forgive me, but I thought you had the right to know.” She stood. “Thanks for hearing me out.” She headed for the front door.
Abra stood quickly. She felt the tears welling again. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to come here, Susan.”
She paused. “I never thought I would, but Zeke wouldn’t give up.” She opened the door. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
It seemed a shock to meet her mother and then know this might be the last time she ever saw her. Abra felt Joshua’s hands gentle on her shoulders. “Where will you go?”
Susan shrugged. “Someplace where I can start over.”
Abra thought of the night Joshua had brought her back to Haven. Dad had been standing on the bridge. It almost seemed as though he’d been waiting there the entire time she’d been gone. When she got out of the truck, he met her more than halfway and embraced her. He forgave her before she’d even confessed. He’d never stopped loving her. She thought of Joshua and
how long he’d waited for her to grow up, how much he’d forgiven. Everyone in town knew Dad loved Susan. They just didn’t realize how much.
Susan seemed so lost. She went out the door.
Abra heard God’s whisper. The choice was hers. It always had been. She went outside. “Susan, wait.” She stepped away from Joshua, praying God would give her the words. She caught up with Susan halfway to the sidewalk. When Susan turned, Abra took her hands. “I do forgive you.”
“Thank you.” She gave Abra’s hands a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t go.”
Susan’s shoulders drooped. “I have to.”
“But you’ve already started over. You don’t have to do it again.”
Susan stood for a moment, considering her words, and then slipped her hands from Abra’s. “I’m glad I got to know you. You are a remarkable young woman.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Good-bye, Abra.” She went around her old Chevy and got into the driver’s seat.
Abra looked back at Joshua beseechingly. He shook his head, but came out to stand beside her. Abra kept hoping, but Susan drove away without a backward glance. “At least I know.”
Joshua stood behind her, arms around her waist. He rubbed his chin on the top of her head.
Abra felt the weight of the past lift, the chaff fluttering away. Joshua knew everything about her. He’d known the wrath that had dwelled in her from infancy, the willfulness, the self-righteousness. And he loved her anyway. What happened to change her? “God lives in you now,” Dad had said when they told him Joshua had baptized her at Riverfront Park. “You’ve become His temple.” Without her even realizing what was happening, the Holy Spirit had begun the work of transformation. How else could a lifetime of hate be washed away by forgiveness in the space of a few minutes?
She let out her breath. “God will never cease to amaze me.”
Joshua let her go and turned to head back inside. “I’d better call Jack and let him know the house didn’t burn down and you’re not in the hospital.”
Hospital.
Dr. Rubenstein.
The baby!
“Joshua. When you’re off the phone, I have something to tell you.”
Zeke knew by the sound of Joshua’s excited voice what news he had to impart. “So I’m going to be a grandpa.”
“Yes, sir. In five or six months. We’ll know more on Wednesday after we see Dr. Rubenstein.” Zeke heard Abra saying something in the background. Joshua laughed. “Abra is already talking about repainting one of the other bedrooms. Green or peach, something that will go with a boy or girl. She’ll probably want to go out and look for a bassinet tomorrow.”
“It’s good to be prepared.”
“Speaking of being prepared, Susan Wells came over. I guess you know why.”
Thank God. “She told Abra she’s her mother.”
“Yes, she did.” His tone changed. “I had this odd feeling something was wrong all morning and called. When Abra didn’t answer, I came home and there they were in the living room, and I could feel the devil ready to have a field day. It wasn’t my battle to fight, but I prayed.”
“How did Abra take the news?”
“She was in shock and ready to explode at first, and then she cried through most of what Susan said. I don’t think either of them expected Abra to forgive her, but that’s what happened.”
“Thank God.” Zeke felt joy well up inside him. Forgiveness was evidence of a life surrendered to God.
“Amen. Too bad Susan is leaving town.”
“Is that what she said?”
“Abra tried to talk her out of it. I don’t know how far she got with that.”
“Time will tell.”
After hanging up the telephone, Zeke got his jacket and cap from the hook and walked downtown to Bessie’s. When he came around the corner, he looked through the window. Bessie stood behind the counter. The bell jangled as he walked in and she glanced up.
When he looked toward the kitchen doors, she shook her head. “If you’re looking for Susan, she’s not here. She came in a little while ago and quit. Just like that. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. I thought she liked it here.” She took an envelope out of her pocket. “She left this for you.”
Heart sinking, Zeke opened it and read the brief letter. Folding it, he put it back into the envelope and tucked it in his shirt pocket.
“What’d she say?”
“‘Thank you.’” All her other words were for his eyes only.
The old hoot owl in the backyard pine tree awakened Zeke. It wasn’t yet three, but he got up anyway. After dressing quickly in the dark, he put on his jacket and St. Louis Cardinals cap and set out. He’d dreamed about Susan last night. They’d been sitting in Bessie’s Corner Café again, talking about the Lord as they always did, when Marianne came through the door. She smiled and joined them at the counter. Zeke fell silent and let the two women talk. Marianne had always known when to speak and what to say when someone was hurting, though he couldn’t remember any of her words now that he was awake.
And Susan was still gone. It had been a month and no word or sight of her. She’s out there in the wilderness, Lord. She’s in danger again and hurting.
Zeke felt the response inside his heart, God whispering quiet words of comfort. Susan wasn’t lost; she was on her own journey. When Abra left, Joshua suffered horribly, and Zeke had told his son to let go and trust in the Lord. Now Zeke had to take his own advice. God knew where Susan was and what it would take before she would be able to surrender, to give up her life, and to experience the resurrection power Jesus offered. Susan could run to the ends of the earth and still never be out of the sight or loving care of God. Nor would she be out of the reach of Zeke’s prayers. Each one he offered would bring Susan before the throne of the omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent God. The Lord would have His way with her, whether it was in Haven or Timbuktu. How many years might pass before she understood that?
Still, Zeke’s heart ached. The enemy had a stronghold in Susan.
Hands tucked in his jacket pockets, Zeke strolled along his street past the homes of friends and neighbors. It had been years since Joshua mowed lawns for the Weirs and McKennas.
As Zeke wound his way through the neighborhoods, he prayed. Penny, Rob, and Paige were doing well. Another baby was on the way. He chuckled. Would the child be a Paul or Pauline this time?
He kept walking and giving thanks for answered prayers.
Dutch and Marjorie were opening their home for a Wednesday evening Bible study.
Gil and Sadie MacPherson came into town to attend it and spread the word that Dutch was a pretty good teacher.
Mitzi had bounced back after a long bout of pneumonia and was now ensconced at the Shady Glen residential care facility, much to Hodge and Carla’s relief. Mitzi had bucked them in the beginning. She said she didn’t like feeling as though she had one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. She was making waves as well as friends. She had announced on arrival that if anyone thought she was going to play bingo or put puzzles together for the rest of her life, they had better think again. They had a piano and she was going to play it. The staff didn’t mind one bit. “They like ragtime in the morning and hymns in the evening. Like reveille and taps,” Mitzi quipped. “Get us old fogies up and moving in the morning and then ready to meet our Maker before bed at night.”
Zeke passed by Good Samaritan Hospital and prayed for the staff and patients. Dr. Rubenstein, nearing retirement, had taken his nephew Hiram as a partner. The young man was fresh from residency at Johns Hopkins and gifted enough to choose where he would practice. Zeke remembered how Doc shook his head when he told him about it. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he says he wants to be here.” Hiram Cohen wanted to follow in his favorite uncle’s footsteps and be a small-town GP. “My sister had loftier ambitions for him, but the boy has a mind of his own. She says she’ll forgive me if I can find him a nice Jewish wife.”
The police station ligh
ts were on. Jim Helgerson came through the door. Zeke stopped. “You’re on duty awfully early, Jim.”
“Comes with being a small-town chief of police letting his deputy go on vacation. Got a call and caught a young hooligan painting graffiti on the back of the train station. He’s none too happy in lockup, but it might make him come to his senses. His parents are at their wits’ end. I’m going to swing by Eddie’s and see if he’s still up to taking on a new project.”
Zeke smiled. “Eddie never says no.”
Heading back into the center of town, Zeke passed Brady Studebaker’s sign shop. Sally and Brady were expecting their first child. Haven seemed to be having a population explosion. Penny and Rob’s, Sally and Brady’s, and Joshua and Abra’s children would be growing up together.
The lights were already on in the Corner Café. Bessie and Oliver sat in a front booth, sharing a cup of coffee and talking before their day started. The Help Wanted sign was still taped in the window. They hadn’t yet found anyone to replace Susan.
Feeling a nudge, Zeke headed for the bridge into Haven. When sorrow came in crashing waves, the peace of the river soothed his troubled heart. There was something about listening to the movement of living water.
He stopped in the middle of the bridge and leaned his forearms on the railing, listening to the ripple below. He remembered the night he found Abra, and grieved for the mother on the run again. Clasping his hands loosely, he bowed his head and prayed. Bring her home, Lord.
All in good time.
He could almost hear Marianne singing a beautiful hymn that had come out of great loss. Closing his eyes, he spoke the words softly. “‘It is well with my soul.’” Somehow, saying the words aloud brought peace. He lifted his head and listened again. He wasn’t alone.
Over the years, Zeke had witnessed many miracles. He knew he could expect more. Other words came, unwritten, but straight from his heart. He straightened as he sang them now for his Lord. A song of hope, a song of thanksgiving for all that had happened and was yet to come. His voice moved across the water and rose like the first hint of dawn on the horizon.