Hidden in the Heart (32 page)

Perhaps there was redemption to be found in the ashes of her life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Claire sat in the living room of Tara’s Place with James beside her, a strong silent presence she didn’t know how she’d ever thought she could live without. Crickets chirped outside and a cool breeze fluttered through the open window.

The sun had long been down and Jackson slept peacefully upstairs. Mac had asked them all to come in here after supper, saying he had something he needed to share.

Darcie sat on the floor opposite Claire, leaning up against the other couch. Jessie paced the room, wringing her hands. Eventually Mac cleared his throat and looked from her to Darcie.

“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through the past few days. I know you’re both hurting. So is Shelly, I’m sure. But we need you to know…want you know, what really happened all those years ago.”

“Grandpa, we already know.” Darcie sounded tired. In the two days since they’d returned to the lake, she’d spent most of her time with Jackson. She and Claire hadn’t really talked, and Claire wondered if their relationship would change now that Darcie knew the truth. “I just…I can’t believe you would all keep the truth from me. All this time you knew I had a sister and…”

“No.” Jessie shook her head, her eyes bright. “That’s just it, honey. We didn’t know.”

Darcie narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t know my mother was pregnant?”

“Oh, we knew that all right.” Mac pushed to his feet and poured a glass of lemonade from the trolley in the corner of the room. He downed the small glass in one chug. “Your mother, God bless her, didn’t tell you the whole story when you talked, I’m afraid. But we want you to hear it. It’s time for truth now.”

“What are you talking about?” Darcie wiped her eyes and stared at Mac. “Mom told me everything. She got pregnant, Rick took off, she had Claire, gave her up and moved on with her life. What else is there?”

Claire wondered the same thing. Rick had alluded to problems between Michelle and her parents, but she never knew the extent of it. She glanced at James, trepidation pricking her. Whatever Mac was about to share, she had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy. For him or them.

Mac leaned over his knees for a long moment.

Eventually he raised his head and took a breath. “The year Michelle went off to college marked my tenth anniversary serving as pastor for Bethel’s largest church. You see, my dear,” he went to Darcie and extended a hand. She rose and they sat together on the couch. “Your mother isn’t the only who’s been keeping secrets.”

“You were a pastor, Grandpa?” Skepticism crept into Darcie’s eyes. Claire raised an eyebrow. This was news to her as well.

“Oh, yes.” Mac gave a chuckle. Jessie sniffed and nodded in affirmation but said nothing. “I was a very different man back then, girls. My belief system was very black and white. Good and evil. There were no gray areas in our house. God was to be feared and the fires of hell were just a mistake away.” He folded his arms across his chest and studied them through serious eyes. “Shelly was a good girl, a good student. A little headstrong at times.” Mac shot Claire a wink and she smiled, her eyes burning.

“After we lost our son, Shelly was all we had,” Jessie put in, twisting a paper napkin
in her hands. “I know we were overprotective, but she never seemed to mind too much. We watched Shelly and Rick over the years.” The creases in her forehead deepened. “As they got older and grew closer, we worried about where it would lead. But we liked Rick. Trusted him. When Shelly went off to college we assumed they’d be getting engaged eventually.”

Mac grunted. “Imagine our shock when Shelly came home that Thanksgiving and told us she was pregnant.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Darcie said quietly, her eyes on her grandfather. Claire blinked back moisture and thought of Jackson sleeping upstairs.

Mac nodded, knitting his thick brows together. “Yes, honey. We know that now. But at the time…”

“At the time we reacted the only way we knew how. We were furious.” Jessie’s voice shook and Mac raised a hand.

“No.
I
was furious. Mortified. My first thoughts were not for my daughter and what she must be going through. I was more concerned about what people would think. Here I was expounding on purity and holiness from the pulpit each Sunday, and my own daughter was going to have a child out of wedlock. The shame was almost unbearable.”

“It didn’t take long for people to find out,” Jessie said quietly. “Shelly didn’t go back to school, and soon the phone started ringing.”

“Judgment came down pretty quick from the deacon board. They wanted me to resign.” Mac pushed fingers through his hair. “Made it pretty clear that if I didn’t, well…I’d be fired.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Anger flashed in Darcie’s eyes. Claire agreed with her but Mac and Jessie only shrugged.

“It was what we’d expected,” Jessie said. “But it was humiliating. We didn’t bother to hide our anger from Shelly. Our home became a battleground.” Jessie wiped her eyes and
leveled her gaze on Claire. “One night, when it all got to be too much, there was a terrible scene. We screamed, she yelled. Oh, we all said things we shouldn’t have, and she ended up leaving.”

Mac nodded, his eyes wet. “Yes. After I told her how ashamed I was of her, and that every time I looked at her and her child, I’d be reminded of my failure as a father. And I told her God would punish her. Punish all of us. She left here that night and never came back.”

Claire sagged against James, allowing his quiet breathing to comfort her. Darcie sat in silence, tears trailing down her cheeks.

“We didn’t know…didn’t understand things like we do now.” Jessie’s tearful explanation pulled at Claire’s heart and sent a shudder through her. “It wasn’t until years later that we realized just how wrong we’d been. About everything.”

“That’s when you started Church on the Rock, isn’t it?” Darcie asked, a bare smile touching her lips.

Her grandfather nodded. “We found we weren’t alone. There were others who’d been hurt, misled and misunderstood.”

“We’ve seen a lot of healing up there on the rock.” Jessie smiled, a twinkle in her eyes chasing off sorrow. “We’ve moved past those dark days. But Shelly, well…she’s a different story. I’m not sure she’ll ever get over it. Or forgive us.”

Mac blew his nose and coughed. “We tried to contact her over the years, to talk about what happened and ask for her forgiveness, but she never would come to see us. We had minimal contact. We knew she’d married and of course she told us when you were born, Darcie, allowed us to send cards and gifts to you, but she never came back to Bethel.”

Jessie stood behind Mac and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I desperately wanted to know what had happened to you, Claire, whether she had you or…oh, I prayed she hadn’t done the unthinkable, angry as she was.”

She moved around Mac’s chair and perched on the couch next to Claire, took her hand in hers and smiled. “One day, not too long after the time you must have been born, I had a dream. I saw a baby lying in a crib, wrapped up in a pink blanket. And she was crying. Crying with all her might. She was alone, abandoned. You could hear the pain of rejection in her cries. I felt it in my spirit. And I knew then that this wasn’t over. I knew that one day I’d see you again.”

Claire stiffened, all the hairs on her arms rising. Warmth unlike anything she’d ever experienced flooded through her being as she concentrated on Jessie’s kind face. Her grandmother’s smile lit the room.

“The very day you showed up here at Tara’s Place, Claire, I had that same dream. I’d almost forgotten it. But I took a nap later that afternoon, after I got you settled, and it came back to me.” She laughed, wiped her tears and clapped her hands together. “God hadn’t given me that dream for no reason. Oh, girls, He always keeps his promises.”

“That’s amazing.” James whispered. Claire nodded, the powerful image capturing all speech.

“What about my Mom?” Darcie’s voice shook, her eyes wild. “How will she get over this?” Deep, silent sobs shook her thin frame. Mac took her in his arms and hushed her.

Claire shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Maybe once I’m gone, she’ll come back. It’s me she doesn’t want to face.”

“Claire, no.” Darcie managed to get a handle on her emotion, crossed the room and crouched before her. She gripped Claire’s hands in hers. Her warm smile displayed her true feelings, her cheeks red, eyes shining. “It’s not about you, Claire. It’s not about any of us. She’s running from herself. I think seeing Rick again, whatever he said to her, softened something in her. I know deep down she wants to meet you, get to know you. I’m sure she wants to forgive Grandma and Grandpa. I just think she doesn’t know how yet.”

Darcie rose, still holding Claire’s hand. Her eyes shone with new light as she smiled at Jessie and extended her other hand to her. “You’re right, Grandma, God does keep His promises. We’re all here today to testify to that. And I believe Mom will come home. That’s what we’ll pray for.”

Chapter Thirty

Michelle sat in her apartment and watched the sun come up. Traffic on the street began to increase in volume. The alarm clock in her room went off, and she traipsed down the hall to silence it. She’d already been awake for hours.

After a meager breakfast of coffee, half a bagel and more coffee, she settled on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest. She was worn out and desperate for answers. She’d even tried praying, but soon gave up. Why would God listen to her now?

Nightmares plagued her. She’d made it through the last few days operating on automatic pilot. Written speeches, made appointments, booked dinner reservations, all the while trying not to allow her mind to wander back to the place she’d run from so long ago.

Back to Bethel.

Claire was probably back home in Connecticut by now. Darcie had said Claire’s husband’s vacation was ending soon.

Michelle gazed around her pristine surroundings. The apartment was sparsely decorated with a few pieces of furniture, but there was nothing that would give anyone a glimpse into her personality. No colorful paintings on the wall or family photographs displayed. The place seemed almost empty.

Like her life.

Darcie called the other night to see how she was doing. She’d put Jackson on the
phone and Michelle spoke to her grandson for the first time. She smiled at the memory of his little voice. He sounded adorable, such a chatterbox. She’d promised to come and see him soon.

Michelle gave a sigh and pushed off the couch. She glanced at the clock and picked up the phone. It was early, but she didn’t care.

He answered on the third ring. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you,” he said, after she announced herself.

“Yes. I’m sure you know why I’m calling.” She clutched the receiver and willed her hands to stop trembling.

“Have you seen her, spoken to her?” He sounded older, but as in control as ever.

“I saw her briefly the other night. We haven’t really talked.”

“But you want to.”

Michelle nodded, unable to speak. Tears slipped down her cheeks into the receiver. “I wasn’t sure what…if…you’d told her…I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

His low chuckle surprised her. “I didn’t think you political types were big on grace.”

“I’ve never really been a political type,” Michelle admitted, the revelation startling and sad. “Just a wannabe.”

He gave a short sigh and she heard him sniff. “If you’re calling to ask me for advice, Ms. Hart, I’m not sure you’re going to like what I have to say.”

“Go ahead.” She waited, stretching out her legs on the chair across from her.

He cleared his throat, paused a long moment, and went on. “I think you should tell her the truth. She’s gone through enough. She deserves to know the whole story. All of it.”

“But you…this could damage your relationship. I’m sure she already thinks I’m a real piece of work so I don’t have much to lose. But you…you’re her…father.”

“I am, yes. But I’m not perfect. What you and I did was wrong, no doubt, but I think
if you have any thoughts at all of establishing a relationship with her, you need to lay it all out on the table from the get go. I’ll deal with my side of it when the time comes.”

“So you haven’t told her then?” Michelle narrowed her eyes. Take your own advice, buster.

“I’ll talk to her when she gets back to Connecticut. When will you see her?”

“I’m not sure. I have some things to sort out here, with work.”

Edward Wiley gave another heavy sigh. “May I offer you another piece of advice, Ms. Hart?”

“Sure.”

“Life is short. Don’t waste any more time. You’ve waited twenty-seven years for this. Go see your daughter.”

~

Kevin let her in and strode through his apartment ahead of her, his face buried in the morning paper. He was always in a hurry, never able to sit still more than a moment. Michelle entered the lavish penthouse suite and glanced around.

She’d once dreamed of living here.

The view of Manhattan was expensive, but well worth it. The rooms were elegant and spacious, filled with fine furniture, over-priced window treatments and Persian rugs. They’d hosted many a dinner together around the long mahogany table.

The only thing about the place that appealed to her now was the front door.

“Is this going to take long?” Kevin refilled his coffee mug, offered her some but she shook her head.

“I’m not sure how long it’s going to take. I told you we needed to talk, Kev. You said it was fine.”

“It is fine.” He loosened his tie and smiled. “Sit.” She didn’t fail to notice the way he
pushed up his sleeve to glance at his watch.

Michelle sat on the black leather couch and studied her sneakers. For the past couple of days all she’d worn were jeans, T-shirts and Nikes. She’d never been more comfortable.

“What’s going on with you, Michelle? You haven’t taken a day off in all the years I’ve known you. You look terrible. Are you having some kind of breakdown?” His pale blue eyes shot through her, his mouth twitching like he’d swallowed a piece of moldy bread.

She stared, unbelieving. But then she smiled. “No, Kev. I’m not having a breakdown. But after what I have to tell you, you might be.”