Hidden in the Heart (24 page)

“I’m so happy,” Claire breathed out, staring at Jessie in delight. Her grandmother’s smile was wide, but all she could do was nod.

“You think I might get one of those?” Mac asked gruffly as he ambled over to them, wiping his eyes. “Welcome home, honey.”

Claire laughed and threw her arms around the big man. “I can’t believe you’re my grandparents.” They took their seats again and Claire examined the photograph she still held. Michelle at her high-school graduation, beaming, her eyes filled with the promise of the future. “She’s beautiful.”

“You look just like her.” Jessie reached for Claire’s hand and squeezed it. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.” Claire sniffed and brushed the tears off her cheeks. “So you knew about me? I always wondered what happened. Why I was given up for adoption.”

Mac cleared his throat and sat forward, his eyes connecting with Jessie’s for a moment. “We knew Shelly was pregnant with you. It’s a long story, and some of it’s not ours to tell.”

Jessie nodded. “We hope you’ll understand, Claire. Until Shelly comes around…”

“Comes around?” Trepidation needled her and Claire narrowed her eyes. “Have you spoken to her?”

Jessie looked away for a moment. She gave her head a shake, her mouth drawn. “I had my suspicions about you, like I said. But we…things were such a mess when Shelly came home from college and told us she was pregnant. She was beside herself, and we were furious. She ended up leaving…and I…we never knew what happened. Until the day you drove up here and knocked over that silly swan.” Jessie chuckled, winding her hands
together. “After I got to know you better and you told me you were adopted, I called Shelly. Asked her if…where she’d had you. She told me Hartford.”

Claire sat very still. So her birth mother, Michelle, knew that in all likelihood, the daughter she bore was here in Bethel, staying with her parents.

And she had stayed away.

“She doesn’t want to know me, does she?”

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” Mac interjected quickly. “Never did.”

Claire looked to Jessie for verification, all hope fading. “I’m right, aren’t I? She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Jessie gave her an agonized look and shrugged. “Maybe in time, Claire. After all these years, it’s a shock. I’m sure she never expected that you’d look for her.”

“And she never wanted me to. She never looked for me, did she?”

“We don’t know.” Jessie massaged her temples, anguish stamped on her face. “Claire you have to understand…this tore us apart. We don’t have a real relationship with her anymore. We never talked about the baby. Ever.”

Claire’s mind whirled in a frenzied muddle of desperate hope and reluctant acceptance. “Should I contact her? Call or write to her? Tell her who I am? Ask her if…”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now.” Jessie’s soft eyes clouded over, her sorrow speaking more than words. “And we’re going to have to ask you not to say anything to Darcie.”

Claire leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “But she…we’re…sisters.” Thick cords of bondage wound around her, choked her and reminded her once again that her life was not her own.

Decisions made before her birth still ruled beyond reason.

“Darcie doesn’t know Michelle had a child before her, does she?” Claire knew the
answer but asked anyway. “Nobody knows. That’s what you’re telling me? That all these years I’ve been this big secret, right? My birth mother gave me up and went on with her life, pretending it never happened. And I’m supposed to just accept that?”

“Claire…”

“No, Jessie!” Claire shook off the woman’s hand and got to her feet. “You don’t know what it’s like. To not know why your own mother didn’t want you. I don’t want to be somebody’s carefully buried secret. Do you understand that? I want the truth. I want to know what happened. All of it!”

“Sweetheart, listen.” Jessie went to her and clasped her arms. “If we could tell you all of it, we would. But we can’t right now. Let me try to talk to Shelly again. Please, just be patient a little while longer.”

“I guess I don’t have a choice.” Claire tried to pull herself together, anger simmering.

“That’s right.” Jessie drew her into another hug. “We just have to wait it out. We have to trust God in this. God doesn’t ever start anything He doesn’t intend to finish. But I’m very glad you’re here, Claire Ferguson. My granddaughter.”

Claire’s crumpled in Jessie’s arms and let the older woman comfort her even as anguished thoughts tore at her soul.

~

Rain pelted the roof as Claire and Jackson ate spaghetti and meatballs in front of the television. Mac and Jessie were back at the hospital with Darcie. They’d taken Jackson for a brief visit earlier. Darcie’s fever was up and she wasn’t having a good day.

Claire picked at her food. She wasn’t hungry but she tried to finish it. She couldn’t very well scold Jackson for not eating if she wasn’t going to. Somehow she managed to pretend everything was okay and kept smiling for him. Inside her heart was screaming.

Jackson fell asleep at last and Claire paced the living room. She couldn’t focus on the
television, didn’t want to read. All she could do was stare at the photograph of Michelle. Jessie told her she could keep it, said she had plenty more, even though Claire had never seen a single one.

So many unanswered questions.

Claire shuddered as a bolt of lightening ripped across the sky. She’d tried calling Rick, but he wasn’t answering his phone. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, he knew of this story, but she needed to talk to someone. Melanie’s line was busy. She’d even dialed James’ cell but hung up. She didn’t want to worry him.

When the phone rang out, she jumped. It sat on the desk in the far corner of the room. Claire knew Jessie didn’t have an answering machine on their private line, so she walked toward it. She hesitated a minute longer, then picked up the receiver.

“Hello? Kelly residence.”

Silence. Claire frowned. Thunder rolled and another gust of wind sent rain pelting against the window. Maybe the line was dead. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“I’m calling for Jessie,” a woman’s voice said at last. “Who is this?”

“Claire Ferguson. Jessie isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?” It was probably one of their church friends. Claire sat in Mac’s old leather chair and reached for a pen a paper.

The line crackled and for a moment Claire thought the caller had hung up. Then she heard her swear softly. Claire raised an eyebrow. Definitely not one of Jessie’s church friends.

“I can take a message if you like. They’re at the hospital.” Claire tried again, watching rain streak the window in long slashes.

“Darcie’s still in the hospital?”

“Yes. Her fever spiked again.” Another colorful word carried down the line. Claire sat
straighter, suddenly realizing what was going on. “Is this Michelle?”

“Yes, it is.”

An interminable silence threatened Claire’s composure. She tried to still her pounding heart but it would not obey.

What did one say to the person who gave them life?

Darcie. Focus on Darcie. This was
her
mother. She drew in a breath and went on before she lost her voice altogether. “The…um…doctors have started her on medication, but they say she could be up and down for a while. And they’re running more tests to check for liver damage.”

“Liver damage? What is she, an alcoholic now?”

“Darcie has Hepatitis B. They say she could be fine, but there could also be complications. Mac and Jessie…said you might call. They asked me to tell you what’s going on. They thought…they thought you might want to come.”

“It’s that serious?” She swore again then fell into silence. “You’re the person my mother told me about, aren’t you? The one who’s staying there?” Michelle’s tone softened and brought unwanted tears to Claire’s eyes.

“Yes. I’m watching Jackson for them. Well, he’s asleep but…”

“So it’s true then? You think I’m your birth mother?”

Claire blew air through pursed lips and tried to summon rational thought. “The facts line up. And there appear to be physical similarities.”

“When were you born?”

“July sixth, nineteen eighty-one.”

“Where?”

“My papers say Hartford Hospital.”

The pause that followed gave Claire time to catch her breath. Time to think of a
thousand things to say but she lacked courage to speak them. The silence dragged on and again she thought Michelle had hung up.

“Why did you want to find me?” She finally spoke. “Does the fact that I gave you up not tell you all you need to know?”

Claire recoiled at the cold, clipped words and shrank back in her chair. “No. Not really. I wanted to know who you were. Where I came from. I wanted…I want to know why you gave me up.”

“Because you were a mistake! Does that answer your question? I was a stupid college kid who didn’t know any better. That’s all there is to it. You had a good life, didn’t you? I was told your parents were very wealthy.”

“I had a good life, yes,” Claire replied, almost whispering. “My parents loved me very much. But I always wondered.”

“So you figure you have a right to mess with my life just to satisfy your curiosity, is that it?”

“No. I…I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I thought you…I thought you might…”

“Well, you thought wrong. If I wanted you in my life I would have looked for you. I didn’t. I kept my end of the bargain.”

Claire gripped the receiver and fought the urge to hurl it against the wall. Her throat thickened. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even move. A pain mirroring the one she’d just fought so hard to overcome burrowed deep into her soul once more.

“I’ll tell Jessie you called.” She slammed the phone down and buried her face in her hands. She wanted to sob but emotions remained out of reach, leaving her numb with disbelief.

Claire made her way upstairs to check on Jackson. He slept soundly and she went
back downstairs. Her mind replayed every word of the terrible conversation and her stomach rolled like she’d just come off a roller coaster. Claire leaned against the counter in the kitchen and watched Chance lap from the large water bowl in the kitchen.

Angry tears finally came and she made no effort to wipe them away.

Slowly she walked across the room to where the telephone hung on the wall. She dialed the number and waited as it rang. After a while the answering machine clicked on and she heard her own voice.
“Hi. You’ve reached Claire and James. We can’t take your call right now…”

Claire closed her eyes against another onslaught of grief. The machine beeped and she let go a ragged sigh. “Hi, Jamie…it’s me. Claire. Well, duh. I…” She sank against the wall and slid to the cold tiles beneath her. Chance bounded over and put his paws on her chest. His pink tongue licked at her tears. “I was just calling to…say...” Her voice cracked and she pressed the off switch and let the phone sit in her lap. Then she picked it up again and dialed Melanie’s number. It rang twice before Melanie answered.

“Hey, Mel. It’s me.”

“Claire! I’m so glad you called. You’ve been on my mind constantly the past few days. I tried calling you but your cell wasn’t working. Are you okay?”

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes at the sound of her friend’s voice.

“Claire? Are you there?”

“I’m here.” Claire fumbled for a tissue and wiped her nose. Chance found a ball and dropped it in her lap. She rolled it across the floor and the pup chased after it with an excited bark. Tremors overtook her again and Claire held the phone with both hands as she tried to speak. “But I’m not okay.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Claire drove back from town chugging coffee. She hadn’t slept all night, only tossed and turned, Michelle’s hateful words echoing in her mind. Part of her wanted to call the woman back and tell her exactly what she thought of her. Another part of her just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. It was that part she listened to as she made her purchases that morning.

Claire parked, reached for the large brown paper bag in the backseat and locked the car. She shuffled down the path toward her cabin, casting a wary glance toward the house. No sign of Mac and Jessie. She hadn’t said much to them when they got home last night. Only managed to blurt out that Michelle had called. Jessie asked her how the conversation went but Claire could only shrug and gave some lame excuse about having a headache. They let her go without pressing.

The rain had stopped, leaving the air crisp and fresh. Normally she would have taken deep breaths, maybe even gone out for a run. But today she had other plans.

“Hey, Claire.” Rick sat on the steps of her cabin, tapping his boots on the gravel as she approached.

“What are you doing here?” Claire pulled her lips together and tightened her arms around the bag.

“Waiting for you, obviously.” He lifted his chin, his expression grim. A knowing look
crept into his eyes.

The man possessed an uncanny ability to read her mind and Claire was getting a little sick of it. “Move.”

He didn’t, so she sidestepped him and pushed open the front door.

Rick got to his feet, his joints cracking. “Jessie told me you spoke to Darcie’s mom last night.”

“Not exactly. She did most of the talking. It wasn’t what you’d call pleasant conversation.” Claire turned at the door, not about to let him in. “Was there something you wanted?”

“What’s in the bag?” He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes drilling her.

Claire bristled but stayed put. “Groceries.” She took a step back and watched his jaw twitch.

“What else?”

“Nothing. Look, I’m tired. If you want to chat, make it another time. I’m going back to bed.”

“Claire, give me the bag. You don’t want to do this.” Rick stretched out a hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Claire inhaled and glared at him. “Go away and leave me alone.”

“No can do, kid.” He stepped forward and tried to grab the grocery bag from her.

Claire pulled it back, her heart pounding. “Stop it. Just leave me alone. You don’t know what’s in here anyway. You don’t have the right to come in here throwing accusations at me. You can’t tell me what to do.” She stalked to the kitchen and banged the paper bag onto the counter. The sound of bottles clinking together reverberated around the room and made their own ugly accusation.