Finding Me (12 page)

“A small country church isn’t the right place for a young person who doesn’t know anyone. Besides, like I said, I think she might be a perfect friend for Beth.”

“Then you can count on me to be watching for new faces tomorrow. What does she look like?”

“Long brown hair, pretty girl in a sort of earthy way, early to mid-twenties, I’d guess.”

“Any unfamiliar faces who remotely fit that description will be thoroughly investigated during the course of tomorrow’s service.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Kenmore stood up and carried his plate and glass to the sink. “Now I’ve got to finish your gutters so I can get out to the store.”

“I thought Saturday was your day off. Shane says you need to slow down.”

“Saturday’s your day off from school, too, but how many music lessons are you teaching today?”

“A few.”

“Exactly.” He nodded as he walked out the back door.

Kelli drove through the parking lot of the beige brick church with dark brown trim. Her heart was pounding, her hopes for this day so scattered she didn’t even know what her actual hope was. There were several empty spaces near the front door, with large white signs declaring
Visitor Parking
in bright blue letters. To park there seemed a bit too conspicuous and almost certain to garner unwanted attention. She drove around and pulled into a spot at the back corner.

For a moment, she sat and watched, wondering if she was underdressed, or overdressed, or just too much of a heathen to be able to fit in here. An older couple walked by, he in a gray suit and tie, she in a green jacket and skirt with heels. Then a young family came behind them. The mother wore a flowing sundress and sandals, the daughter a frilly dress, the son khakis, and the husband jeans and a golf shirt. This was the first moment of relief. Her geometric-patterned green maxi dress ought to work just fine.

As she walked slowly toward the three sets of double doors at the front of the church, she was still pondering the best place to sit. If she slid into the very back, she would likely be less noticeable, but what if the person she was here to see sat up front? Too bad asking someone, “So where does Alison Waters usually sit?” would be a little too much of a giveaway.

As she entered through the back door, a balding middle-aged man in a seersucker sport coat handed her some type of paper. She mumbled her thanks, took a deep breath, and walked into the sanctuary. It was larger than she’d guessed it would be. She
stood at the back of the central aisle, wondering if maybe the sides offered a safer choice. She was just getting ready to make for the left when a circle of women farther up the middle caught her attention. One of the women, standing in a profile view from Kelli’s angle, was almost surely Alison Waters.

Kelli stopped breathing. She simply held her breath and stared for the space of three heartbeats at the woman who was her mother. She was a little shorter than Kelli had expected, but her smile was every bit as bright as in her pictures—the entire group of women basked in its light. Alison turned and glanced toward Kelli, her gaze seeming to stay on her for just a second longer than normal. Kelli hurried to take a seat in an almost empty pew just to her right. She was still roughly ten rows back from the women, close enough to watch them, but far enough away she could observe unnoticed until she decided what to do. Except Alison seemed to be looking toward her again. Surely it was just the imaginings of a guilty conscience. Organ music filled the brick and wood church with an almost holy sound that Kelli found somehow less uncomfortable than she would have expected.

The group of women hugged and laughed together for another minute before breaking up to go their separate ways. Kelli pulled out the piece of paper she’d been given on arrival and pretended to be studying it while glancing up to see where Alison Waters would sit.

And then suddenly she was walking toward Kelli. Coming closer. Kelli forced her head down and had to abandon peeking for fear of giving herself away.

“Good mornin’. You’re new here, aren’t you?” The voice was sweet, and thick with southern charm.

Kelli looked up into the eyes of her mother. “Uh, yes. Just visiting, actually.”

“Well, welcome. My name’s Alison, and oh—” she glanced over Kelli’s shoulder and gestured toward a couple walking up the central aisle—“here comes my daughter, Beth, and her husband, Rand. Beth and Rand, we have a visitor today. Come meet . . .” Alison looked toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

Her daughter Beth?
The couple came to stand beside Alison, and then all three of them stood there, staring at Kelli. Were they looking at her because they were noting a family resemblance? Then Kelli realized she hadn’t answered the question yet. “Kelli. Kelli Huddleston.”

“Come meet Kelli.”

Beth’s smile was large and toothy. Her reddish-brown hair was just past shoulder length, straight like Kelli’s but much thicker. Any resemblance that Denice had thought she saw in that old wedding photo was definitely called into doubt in a big way. “Welcome,” Beth said. “Good to have you here. Where are you visiting from?” Her accent wasn’t quite as strong as her mother’s, but still obvious and charming.

“California. Just passing through, really.”

“Cal-i-forn-ia?” From Beth’s reaction, one would have thought Kelli had just told her she was from Buckingham Palace. “Oh, we’ve been talking and talking about going out there on vacation someday. Is it as beautiful as they say?”

Kelli nodded. “Yes, I guess I’d have to say that it is. Tennessee is beautiful, too. So green and lush.”

Just then, a man walked to the podium. “Good morning, everyone.”

“Good morning.” About a third of the crowd answered in reply. And Kelli supposed that was the cue for everyone to take their seats and quit talking.

“Nice to meet you, Kelli,” Beth whispered as the three of them sat down directly in front of her.

The man at the podium said, “Don’t forget about the church-wide picnic as soon as the service is over. I want everyone to stay and enjoy a little fellowship. The Ladies Hospitality Committee has prepared barbecue sandwiches and all the fixings. If you’re still hungry after that, the college group is having a bake sale to raise money for their upcoming trip to Kenya.”

Beth turned then, reached back to touch Kelli’s hands, which were clasped by her knees, and whispered, “Oh, please stay. I want to hear all about California.”

“Uh . . . well . . . I’m not sure . . .” Kelli was too stunned to think of the correct reply. This had happened in a much faster and more direct manner than she’d thought possible. She had come here simply hoping for a glimpse of Alison. Now Alison
and Beth
were sitting just a few feet in front of her and inviting her to stay for lunch.

As the service commenced, Kelli couldn’t do anything but look at the two women in front of her. Beth’s presence here was an unexpected stroke of luck. Now if only her brother would show up, Kelli’s goal would be almost accomplished.

This was her biological family, sitting so close in front of her she could reach out and touch them. She began to study them, even now, searching for clues, any signs about who they were and how Kelli might have once fit into the equation. Beth’s hair was the identical shade as her mother’s, not enough red in it be to called auburn but with too many red undertones to be truly brown. Kelli’s own hair was true brown, but in direct sunlight, people often commented about reddish highlights. Was there a family resemblance otherwise?

Beth and Alison both had oval faces, but Kelli had more of her father’s square jaw. Beth and Alison were both petite, while Kelli was taller, like her father. When it got right down to it, Kelli could find nothing about these women that would make for anything more than a casual similarity.

They sang a song Kelli had never heard, and then everyone sat down. Quite unexpectedly, Kelli’s mother stood and walked up the center aisle to the front of the church. She walked right up to the podium, nodded her head toward someone at the back of the church, and suddenly recorded background music filled the sanctuary. And then Alison Waters began to sing.

At first, Kelli couldn’t make out the words, she was so overcome by the beauty of this woman’s voice. It was incredible. Something far beyond that, really. At some point, she did begin to hear some of the words—something about God sending His greatest blessings in the form of trouble. If that were true, Kelli had been more than a little blessed in the past month.

Each note seemed to vibrate through her very soul. The beauty of the song, of her mother’s voice, of simply being in the same space as the mother she’d never known, it was all becoming too much for her. She remembered her own attempt at singing during tryouts for the junior high play. She still cringed when she remembered how embarrassed her father had been when he heard what she’d done. Kelli had never sung in public since, and something about hearing the beauty in her mother’s voice and knowing the discord in her own seemed to draw them that much farther apart.

When Alison finished singing, the whole room erupted in a chorus of “Amen.” Alison walked back to her seat, and Beth reached over and hugged her. She left her arm on the back of the seat as the service moved forward. It all seemed so natural and comfortable, Kelli couldn’t take her eyes off the casual way Beth’s arm encircled her mother. What must their relationship be like? Something different than Kelli and Mimi had shared, that seemed apparent.

The pastor stood up and preached for a while. Kelli heard none of it. Her brain was in complete overload with all that was happening. One thing she did do, much to her horror, was start crying.

It was slow at first, just a single tear running down her right cheek. She reached up to wipe it away, thankful no one was sitting beside her to notice. But another followed, and then another, until her shoulders were shaking. Somehow she managed to remain mostly silent, although she knew her ragged breathing was loud enough to tip off those close by, and the people behind her could undoubtedly see her shoulders shaking. Thankfully, by the time the sermon ended, she had gotten herself more or less under control.

As soon as everyone was dismissed, she stood up, thinking it might be best to make a quick escape. The emotional basket case she had become was certainly not strong enough to spend the next hour or two putting on a charade in front of the people who were once her family. She picked up her purse and turned toward the aisle, ready to hurry out.

Unfortunately, there was a middle-aged couple who had been sitting behind her. The woman reached out and grasped her by the arm. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Kelli shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“If you say so, then I’ll accept that, but let me give you something real quick.” She fished in her purse, then pulled out a piece of paper and pen. She wrote something down and handed it to Kelli.
Peggy Johnson 555-1789.
“You call me if you need someone to talk to, okay?”

Kelli nodded. She folded the paper and slipped it into the pocket of her dress, thinking to head out before anyone else who had seen her disgrace came by and offered to help.

“So, Kelli, come sit with us at lunch.” Beth smiled and nodded toward the door.

“I don’t think I can stay.” Kelli was more than certain they had heard the sound of her crying, and even if they hadn’t, her eyes had to be puffy and bloodshot. One thing she did not want
to be was an object of sympathy, or worse yet, a project for the church people.

Beth’s husband put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and said, “Please stay. Without some fresh blood and new stories, we’re going to have to spend the entire hour and a half listening to my wife and my mother-in-law discuss whether rocking horses or carousel horses are a more appropriate decoration for the nursery. I’ve heard the same arguments so many times by now, I’m not sure I can handle any more.”

Kelli looked at Beth, daring a quick glance at her stomach. “Are you . . .”

Beth’s entire face lit up. “Yes! Yes, I am.” She nudged her husband with her elbow. “And it took several years and lots of medical intervention before I arrived at this blessed state, so I don’t think a little bit of conversation about nursery decorations is going to hurt anyone.”

Her husband shrugged, smiling good-naturedly. “Come sit with us. We can talk about the West Coast for a while, maybe come up with a nursery theme of palm trees, surfboards, and sailboats.”

“I think that would be cute, especially for a boy.” Kelli smiled at Beth’s husband, whose name she could not remember. Ralph? Rick? Something that started with an R, she was pretty sure.

“Or a girl. None of that prissy froufrou stuff at my house. I’m going to raise a daddy’s girl.”

A daddy’s girl.

A second eruption of tears was working its way to the surface. Kelli took a deep breath and held it, fearing to release it lest the waterworks come out with the expelled air. Everything inside her wanted to turn and run out of this place. But there was a second voice, the one deep inside her, and it remained consistent and unwavering.
You came all this way because you wanted to meet these people.
Here they are practically begging you to spend time with them.
Buck up and quit being a baby.
This is the chance of a lifetime.
You probably will never even see them again after today.