When Mercy Rains Page 3

  A frown pinched Mom’s face. “I’m sorry. I’ve been deep in thought, but I didn’t intend to worry you.”

  Alexa shrugged, eager to put Mom at ease. “It’s okay. Maybe a little worry on my end is fair considering all the worrying you’ve done about me, huh?”

  To her surprise, tears winked in Mom’s eyes. “You’ve never given me a reason to worry about you, Alexa. Yes, I’ve worried about not doing right by you, but you have been a delight from the first moment I held you in my arms. I’m so proud of the young woman you’ve become. Anyone would be blessed to have you for a daughter.”

  Fear attacked, making her break out in a cold sweat. She gripped Mom’s knee hard. “Are you dying?”

  Mom’s eyebrows shot upward. “Dying?”

  “Are you sick? Is that why you’ve been quiet? Have you been trying to find a way to tell me? Well, I’m listening now—you can tell me. Please tell me.” Her lungs seemed incapable of pulling in a full draft of air, so she heaved in panicked little puffs.

  “Alexa, honey, calm yourself.” Mom peeled Alexa’s hand from her knee and held it between her palms. “I’m not sick.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  Alexa slumped forward. “Oh, thank goodness. When you said …” She forced herself to draw a big breath and let it out slowly. Her imagination had run away with her again. But this time she’d had help. Why had Mom given that glowing little speech if she wasn’t sick or dying? “Then what is it?”

  “Remember the letter that came from your uncle?”

  Alexa sat quietly as Mom explained Uncle Clete’s request for Mom to come to Arborville and assume nursing duties for their wheelchair-bound mother. While she listened, her heart began a rapid thump-thump-thump of excitement, and she found it hard to stay in her seat. Mom was going to Arborville? Then Alexa would finally have the opportunity to meet her grandmother, her uncle, her aunts, and the rest of the family Mom had left behind.

  Alexa blurted, “When are you going?”

  Mom’s mouth dropped open. “You want me to go?”

  Alexa threw her hands wide. “Why not?”

  “I’d have to take a leave of absence from the hospital, give my church responsibilities to someone else, be apart from our friends, leave you here alone …”

  Alexa drew back. “What do you mean, leave me here?”

  “Your home is here. Your job is here. Everyone you know is here.” Mom bit her lower lip, her brow crinkling in either confusion or consternation—Alexa couldn’t be sure which. “You wouldn’t want to go there, would you?”

  All the longings Alexa had carried from little girlhood welled up. She caught Mom’s hands and squeezed, trying to impress upon her how deeply she wanted this chance to know her family. Her father—Mom’s best-kept secret—and his family would probably never be known to her. But now she could meet Mom’s family and finally feel as if she belonged. “My job is just a job, biding my time until I can decide what I really want to do. This apartment is only home because you’re in it. Sure it’d be hard to be away from our friends at church and from Linda and Tom—I love them. But they aren’t family.”

  How could she make Mom understand without hurting her? “I’m curious about your family. My family. I always have been. But when I asked you questions about them, I could tell it made you mad. Or sad.”

  Mom lowered her head. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Alexa blew out a frustrated breath. “And now I’m making you sad again. Mom, please listen to me, okay?” She waited until her mother looked up and met her gaze. She spoke gently. “From the time I was a little girl, I’ve taken the … the snippets of information you’ve shared about your Old Order upbringing and painted these elaborate images in my head. Pictures of the farm, the people, the small, close-knit community.” The imagined scenes paraded through her mind again, making a grin tug at her cheek. She wanted to find out what it was like to be a part of it.

  “I love you, Mom. You’re fantastic, and you’ve always given me security and love”—she pressed her hands to her aching chest—“but here, in the center of my soul, there’s this empty spot only a complete family can fill.” Her throat tightened and tears threatened. She didn’t want to crush her mother, but she had to know. So she gathered her courage and dared to ask the question she’d held inside for far too long. “How did you do it? How did you leave them? You are so important to me. I could never walk away from you and not come back—not even for days, let alone for years.”

  Mom looked away, and the muscles in her jaw clenched. “You don’t know everything that happened, Alexa.”

  Alexa’s heart hurt for her mom. Obviously the pain, although decades in the past, was still very much a part of her. “Of course I don’t. I wasn’t there. But I do know this …” She tipped sideways a bit, trying to make eye contact with her mother. “You gave me life. You’re my mom. No matter what, if you needed me, I’d be there.” Minutes passed in silence while Alexa held her mother’s limp hands and waited for her to speak.

  Mom remained quiet so long she began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep sitting up. Then a soft chuckle left Mom’s lips. She turned toward Alexa. Tears slid down her cheeks, leaving their tracks behind. A wry smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Linda was right.”

  “Linda’s always right. About what this time?”

  “You’re growing up.”

  For some strange reason, the comment made her want to cry. She sniffed hard.

  “And I guess, when I can get the arrangements made, we’ll go to Arborville.”

  Alexa threw her arms around Mom and let out a cry of exultation. “It’ll be great, Mom, you’ll see.” She could hardly wait to see her words proved true.

  Suzanne

  Suzanne inched up the narrow aisle of the JetBlue aircraft, her carry-on bag bumping the backs of her knees as she went. From behind her, Alexa released a happy sigh.

  “Wow, Mom, it almost feels like a dream, doesn’t it?”

  A dream? More like a nightmare. The past three weeks had been fraught with stress. She’d never imagined how many phone calls, written requests, and face-to-face meetings would be necessary to take a two-month leave from her life in Indiana. But she couldn’t stomp on Alexa’s happiness. Always much more bubbly than her reserved mother, Alexa had exhibited more enthusiasm about going to Kansas than anything else, ever. She flashed a quavery smile over her shoulder, which Alexa returned a hundredfold.

  Suzanne passed the uniformed flight attendants who stood at the doorway thanking the passengers for utilizing their airline. Although she acknowledged their comments with only a slight nod, Alexa replied cheerfully.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for a great flight—my very first.”

  The attendants laughed, and the taller of the pair said, “We hope it won’t be your last.”

  “Me, too.”

  In the tunnel leading to the terminal, Alexa eased to Suzanne’s side. Her shoulder bag swung wildly on its long strap, bumping Suzanne’s hip. “Do you suppose there’ll be a welcome committee waiting for us? After all, you haven’t been home in … well, forever.” Alexa’s tinkling laughter spilled out. “Wouldn’t that be amazing? Your whole family out there waiting, holding up a big sign and balloons or flowers or something.”

  Suzanne moved sideways to avoid another whack from Alexa’s overstuffed purse. She should have taken advantage of their lengthy flight time and shared the entire truth with Alexa. Her stomach churned. If—and it was a mighty big “if”—her entire family waited, at least one of her long-held secrets would be revealed quickly and she could stop worrying about her family’s reaction to Alexa’s presence.

  She fixed a serious look on her daughter, one she’d perfected over the years in an attempt to squelch her abundant exuberance. “Don’t get your hopes up, Alexa. We’re arriving on a weekday afternoon. People have jobs and responsibilities. It’s very unlikely any of my family is here. They’ve probably sent a driver to retrieve us.” />
  “Oh.” For a moment, Alexa’s bright countenance dimmed. But then in typical form, she gave a cavalier shrug and grinned. “No matter. Once we reach Arborville, there’ll be a reunion. I’m sure of it.”

  They rounded the final bend leading to the reception area, and Suzanne caught Alexa’s arm, guiding her away from the stream of others making their way to baggage claim. She looked into her daughter’s expectant face and feared her heart might break. Why hadn’t she told Alexa the truth years ago when she began asking about the big family living on a farm in Kansas? Her mother’s harsh command rang in her memory, stinging her anew. “I don’t care what you want, young lady. You will give up that baby to your cousins, and no one besides you and me will ever know what you did!” Suzanne hadn’t wanted to inflict pain on her precious girl, so she’d sidestepped Alexa’s questions rather than divulge the events surrounding her leave-taking.

  She’d always admired Alexa’s cheerful outlook and active imagination, seeing them as gifts even if she sometimes wished her daughter would ground herself more in reality. For years she’d carried a boatload of regrets, but the biggest one at that moment was that she had not been completely honest with the most important person in her life. The truth would shatter Alexa.

  She gently squeezed Alexa’s elbow. “Honey, listen to me. I know how excited you are—how long you’ve wanted to meet your grandmother and uncle and aunts—but I don’t think you fully understand how the Mennonites live.”

  A sheepish grin climbed her cheek. “Actually, Mom, I know more than you know I know. I kind of researched Old Order Mennonites when I was in junior high.” She shrugged. “Curiosity …”

  Suzanne cringed. “Well, you still don’t know how my family lives. Please don’t be hurt if there isn’t—”

  Alexa’s gaze moved beyond Suzanne’s shoulder. She jerked loose of Suzanne’s light grasp and pointed. “Mom, look. That man over there has a sign with Zimmerman on it. Let’s go!” Without a moment’s pause, Alexa looped her arm through Suzanne’s elbow and headed for the waiting man.

  He wore the Sunday garb of Suzanne’s sect—white shirt buttoned to the collar and tucked into black trousers. A suit coat with no lapels hung open, revealing a sliver of navy-blue suspenders. The man appeared to search the crowd, but as Alexa and Suzanne approached, he pinned his focus fully on Suzanne. His gaze traveled from her face down the line of her simple sweater and matching cardigan, long skirt, and bottom four inches of her low-heeled slouch boots and then up again. His brow furrowed, but he appeared more puzzled than disapproving.

  He dropped the crude sign with its block-letter printed name into a nearby receptacle and took two steps toward them. “Suzy?”

  Alexa arched her eyebrows, her lips quirking into a teasing grin. “Suzy?”

  Suzanne gave her daughter a brief frown, then turned to the man. “I go by Suzanne now, but yes, I’m Suzanne Zimmerman.”

  The man’s puzzlement faded in an instant. He released a self-conscious chuckle. “I’ll try, but it’ll be pretty hard for me not to call you Suzy.”

  Only then did she notice the pale scar running from the outer corner of his left eye to his hairline, the result of a childhood encounter with the sharp barb on a neighbor’s wire fence. The entire fellowship had praised God for allowing the barb to miss his eye and leave his sight unaffected. A buzzing filled her head and her jaw slackened. “Clete?”

  He nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “That’s right. Welcome home, Sis.”

  And then Suzanne found herself wrapped in her brother’s embrace. When she’d left, he’d been a gangly eleven-year-old, the top of his head barely reaching her chin. Now his chin pressed against her temple, and his firm hold spoke of a man’s strength.

  His deep voice—unfamiliar yet somehow known—filtered past the ringing in her ears. “It’s been a long time. Too long.” Did a hint of recrimination color his tone?

  Suzanne extracted herself and peered into her brother’s face. “I’m here now.”

  Perhaps he recognized the challenge she’d injected in her simple reply, because he gave a nod and his expression softened. “Yes, you are.”

  Alexa, who’d stood silently by and shifted from foot to foot during the brief exchange, now bolted forward. “Hello.” Her greeting whooshed out breathlessly. She took his hand and shook it, her smile growing broader with every pump. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

  Clete nodded, his gaze zipping back and forth between Suzanne and Alexa. “Yes. Yes, of course it is. Um …” He withdrew his hand and scratched behind his ear, his confused glance landing on Suzanne. “Who is this?”

  Befuddlement pursed Alexa’s face. “Who else would I be? I’m—”

  Suzanne slipped her arm around Alexa’s waist. “This is my daughter, Alexa.”

  Alexa

  Surprise widened her uncle’s eyes, but as quickly as his startled expression formed, it disappeared, leaving Alexa wondering if she’d seen it at all. He reached for her, and she allowed him to tug her against his broad chest.

  For years she’d anticipated this moment—being welcomed into a large circle of family instead of being the only child of a single mother. But now that her uncle’s arms held her in what she could only define as an uncomfortable embrace, all the wonderful images of reunion she’d conjured faded. She pushed lightly against his chest, and his arms dropped.

  He ducked his head briefly, as if collecting himself, and then he aimed a wobbly smile at Mom. “We’d better get your luggage.”

  Alexa darted ahead, needing to gather her thoughts. She searched for a positive aspect to the situation. In moments her ready imagination served up a plausible scenario. Mom hadn’t told her family she’d be bringing her daughter along. After all, they’d asked her to come to nurse Grandmother. They probably assumed Alexa had responsibilities keeping her in Indiana. So her arrival caught them by surprise. That would explain Uncle Clete’s confusion.

  She glanced over her shoulder, noting the firm line of her uncle’s mouth. Mom appeared equally grim. Although he and Mom hadn’t seen each other in two decades, they walked side by side in a tense silence. Shouldn’t they be speaking over the top of each other in their eagerness to catch up on their lives? Unease sent a tingle down her spine. Something was wrong.

  Most of the passengers had already claimed their luggage, so only a few bags remained on the slow-moving conveyor belt. Alexa snagged Mom’s black bag and her own green-with-orange-polka-dots one. To her dismay the brand-new upright cases, purchased especially for their trip to Kansas, bore oil stains and scuff marks. Their damaged appearance too closely emulated the marred expectations of meeting her family for the first time.

  Uncle Clete stepped forward and reached for the bags. “I’ll get those. I left my truck in short-term parking, so we won’t have a long walk. This way.” He spoke kindly yet impersonally, the way one might address a stranger.

  His tone raised a prickle of resentment. She followed her uncle from the terminal into a cool early evening. The leftover scent of a recent rain filled her nostrils, and she breathed deeply, willing the fresh essence to chase away the unwelcome emotion.

  Mom often berated her to act her age, and now Alexa gave herself the same admonition. To expect instant affection was childish and whimsical. She and her uncle were strangers. After twenty years apart, he and Mom probably felt like strangers, too. Alexa would allow a few days for everyone to settle in and get comfortable. They just needed a little time.

  Beside her, Mom shivered, and Alexa automatically slipped her arm around Mom’s waist. Mom shot her an appreciative smile, and Alexa answered it with a bold wink. Poor Mom … She looked exhausted. She’d worked all night, honoring her responsibility to the hospital right up to the last minute, then traveled all day. Her reticence was probably more a result of tiredness than anything else.

  “Here we are.” Uncle Clete unlocked the door on a gray pickup truck with a double cab. “Suzy … er, Suzanne, why don’t you sit up front and Ale
xa can have the back.” Without waiting to see if they followed his directions, he moved to the bed of the truck and heaved their suitcases over the edge.

  Alexa cringed, imagining the additional bumps and scratches his rough treatment would certainly inflict on their luggage, but she held her tongue and climbed into the backseat of the cab. Bits of dried grass and dirt clumps littered the floor, and the distinct aroma of cattle clung to the upholstery. She sucked in one last draft of the rain-scented air before slamming the door closed behind her.

  A child’s booster seat sat in the middle of the bench, and Alexa pushed it to the far side to give herself more room. Uncle Clete settled himself behind the steering wheel, then sent an unsmiling glance into the back. “Oops. Want me to put that in the bed with the suitcases?”

  “It’s not bothering me,” Alexa said, unexpectedly warmed by his offer. She clicked her seat belt into place. “Who does it belong to?”

  Uncle Clete answered as he backed out of the narrow parking space. “My daughter Jana.”

  “How old is she?” Alexa couldn’t quite temper the eagerness in her voice. The yearly Christmas letter coming from Arborville had never told as much as she wanted to know about Mom’s family—her family. She wanted to know everything.

  “Four.”

  “And she’s your youngest, right?”

  He pulled a curled-edge photograph from beneath the sun visor and handed it over the seat. “Youngest of three. Jana’s the one on the far left. Jay’s in the middle—he’s eight. And then Julie’s five.”

  Alexa examined the images in the grainy photo. The trio of children stood at the edge of a wheat field. The little girls wore knee-length gingham dresses, obviously homemade, and the boy’s shirt seemed to be sewn from the same blue-checked fabric. Bright sunshine turned their fair hair into halos. Mom craned her neck to peer over the seat, so Alexa gave her the picture as she told her uncle, “They’re real cute. Your girls look so much alike and are so close in size, they could be twins.”