Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One (16 page)

Chapter 22

“I never could understand why Perry thought something was missing from his life. Until recently, that is. Now I understand completely.”

L
YDIA
P
LANK

I
guess you get a lot of visitors like me,” Lydia sputtered. “Visits from people who had been adopted?”

Mortified by how nervous she sounded, Lydia half waited to be laughed at.

But instead of grinning, Marianne, the director of the Sweet Angels Home only looked at her with compassion. “We get our fair share of visitors,” she said gently. “Some of them are folks who want to know about their past.”

As Lydia exhaled, Marianne leaned back in her chair, looking from Lydia to Walker. “Fact is, I’ve given up trying to guess why some people come back to learn about their birth parents and why some never do. Though, of course, some never see the need to visit here. Some people’s parents have shared all the details about their birth parents and the circumstances of their birth from an early age.”

The woman’s last statement had a vague question at the end of it. As Walker shifted beside her, Lydia knew it was time to dive in. “I never knew I was adopted until recently. I’m afraid I know practically nothing about my birth parents.”

The director took off her glasses and peered a little closer at Lydia. “From the beginning, our organization’s motto has been to make the relationship between birth parents and adoptive ones as strong as possible. Though some families don’t choose to share a lot of details, most have been committed to transparency.”

Lydia wasn’t sure what transparency meant, but she knew that her circumstances were very different from what the woman was describing. “I’m afraid that hasn’t been the situation for me.”

“Our center has always been committed to open adoption, when all parties are comfortable with continuing a relationship in some form, or comfortable with a relationship in the future. But twenty years ago, when your adoption went through, might have been before we made that commitment.”

She was, it seemed, about to say more when another woman appeared at her office door. “I’m sorry, but may I borrow you for one moment?”

The director got to her feet. “I’ll be right back. Please excuse me.”

When they were alone, the tension in the room seemed to grow.

Lydia felt uneasy. She wished with all her heart that her parents hadn’t kept their secret for so long. Things would have been much easier for everyone involved if they’d embraced the truth and been honest with her from the start.

From the moment Walker had picked her up, she had felt agitated. Her parents, though trying to put on a brave front, looked devastated.

And while Walker was trying to be supportive, Lydia felt a new barrier between them as well. Though she wasn’t brave enough to ask, she was concerned that he was regretting his offer to take her. What she was getting into was painful, difficult, and personal. Perhaps it was too much for a friendship as new as theirs?

“I’m sorry I dragged you here,” she whispered. “It was unfair of me to make you do this.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I came.”

“Truly?”

“Definitely. There’s no way I’d want you to go through this by yourself.” Taking her hand, he squeezed gently. “Just sit tight and keep being brave. Then we’ll get the answers we came for.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not. I know it’s not. But we don’t need to make it harder than it has to be.”

“Walker, you are smarter than you look.”

He chuckled, wiping away the tension in the room as effectively as if he had an eraser in hand. “I get that all the time.”

She was still smiling at him when Marianne returned.

“Ah,” she said. “Lydia, you’ve got some color in your cheeks now. I’m glad about that. For a moment there, I thought you were going to faint on me.”

“I do feel better,” Lydia admitted. “Though, I still am not sure what to do now.”

“How about I go retrieve your file and then we’ll look at it together? Perhaps it will make some things clearer.”

“That sounds great,” Walker said.

Bracing her hands on her desk, she paused. “I feel like I should warn you that sometimes people find answers they weren’t ready for. Do you think you’re prepared for the details of your story?”

Lydia glanced at Walker. His smile was gone, but his gaze made her feel just as secure. Without a word he was letting her know that he was going to stay by her side no matter what the outcome.

No matter if she’d been born Amish or English . . . or even from another country. She was still going to mean the same to him.

That acceptance was worth more than gold to her.

“I’m sure this is what I want.”

“Alrighty, then.” Marianne stood up and motioned for the two of them to follow her out of the room. “There’s a meeting room just down the stairs by the front door. There’s coffee and tea and water there, and usually a plate of cookies. Why don’t you two go there and relax for a few minutes? It will take me about a half an hour to get your records.”

Another half hour? The wait was surely going to drive her crazy!

Luckily, though, Walker seemed to have a far better presence of mind. “Thank you. We’ll be waiting.”

Walker held her hand as they walked down the stairs, remaining silent, letting her take time to process what was happening.

Knowing the truth, even if it wasn’t easy or helpful or good, was the only option. It was difficult to go forward in her life if she kept looking back.

When they got to the sitting room, Walker walked right to the small table where a pair of Thermoses and a couple of rows of soft drinks and water bottles were waiting. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?” He picked up a water for himself.

“I am sure.” She was so nervous, even the thought of swallowing water made her feel ill.

After taking a long drink, and an even longer glance her way, Walker took a seat and texted someone on his phone.

She folded her arms over her chest and tried to look calm.

Then, as the clock overhead ticked slowly, she gave up and tried to just breathe.

Time went by slowly.

After thirty minutes Marianne hadn’t returned. Walker finally spoke. “You all right, Lydia?”

“Oh, sure.”

“Really?”

“
Nee.
But I wanted this, and I will get answers eventually.”

She looked worriedly at the closed door, then at the clock. “Why do you think it’s taking so long?”

“No telling.”

“What if she can’t find my records? What if there’s a problem?”

“I doubt that’s what happened. You know how things go. I bet she got called to the phone or something. She seems pretty busy.”

“I suppose.” But still, every minute that passed felt like two hours.

After another fifteen minutes, she blurted, “Walker, what if she found out something terrible?”

“Then we’ll deal with it. But no matter what, we’ll find out the truth, right? That’s why we’re here.”

Lydia bit her lip and tried not to tap her foot.

Walker must have noticed her uneasiness. He held out his hand. “Want my hand?”

“You think that will fix things?”

His lips curved up slightly. “No, but it might make waiting easier.”

She slid her palm into his and enjoyed the way his covered hers completely. Making her feel protected, like part of a set. Seeking to lighten the mood, she joked, “Of course, this doesn’t mean there’s anything going on between us.”

“Good. Because, you know, I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

“And I’m still not looking for a boyfriend.” She almost smiled.

“Glad we’re clear on that.” He was prevented from saying anything else when the door opened and Marianne stepped through.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she said. “I had a bit of a problem looking for your paperwork.”

Oh, but she’d known that something was wrong. “Why?”

“Your situation, I mean, the way your adoption was handled . . . it went a little different than most here.”

“Why is that?” Lydia didn’t like to think that she’d started life in a mysterious way.

Marianne exhaled. “Because there were extenuating circumstances about the woman who gave birth to you.” She paused again.

“Can you just tell us?” Walker asked. “Lydia’s about to go crazy.”

“I just want to know the truth.”

“I understand.” Sitting down, Marianne handed Lydia a folder. “Your mother was in poor health when she delivered you. She had a disease, multiple sclerosis. From what the records say, she’d been warned to not have children.”

“Multiple Sclerosis? What’s that?”

“M.S. affects the ability of nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord to communicate with each other effectively. Severe cases can be debilitating.”

Lydia felt completely unnerved. Never had she imagined that her real mother had had medical problems. “What happened to her?”

“After she gave birth to you, from what I understand, her health took a turn for the worse. She and her husband were worried that she wouldn’t ever be able to take care of a baby, let alone herself. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to walk, or do much, I suppose.”

“So that’s why they gave me up?”

Marianne looked at her solemnly. “I can’t speak for them, but it looks like they gave you up because they knew you’d never really have a mother if you stayed with your birth mom. Records say she passed away just six months after giving birth to you.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Lydia felt a deep stab of pain in her heart. How could it hurt so much to lose someone she didn’t even know?

The director sighed, then continued, obviously taking care to keep her voice professional and clinical. “In addition, your father was worried that he wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby when he was mourning his wife. They were older, you see.”

Lydia shook her head. She had imagined a teen pregnancy. Or a mother on drugs. Or a hundred different scenarios. Not this.

“Were my parents Amish or English?” she asked.

Marianne smiled slightly. “I’m afraid I didn’t read that far. But everything you need to know is in that folder. Take as much time as you two need to read through everything. When you’re ready to leave, please leave the folder with the receptionist.” After a pause, she held out her hand. “Good luck to you, dear. And may God be with you.”

Lydia shook her hand. “Thank you. And thank you for this.”

When they were alone, Lydia sat next to Walker on the couch and read through the faded paperwork by his side. Her birth mother had been forty-five years old. Not too terribly old to have a baby now, but twenty years ago it would have been out of the ordinary.

They’d lived in Erie, Pennsylvania.

And under religious affiliation, it was blank.

With a sense of doom, Lydia felt more befuddled than ever before.

Now she understood what the director had been trying to say. Expectations rarely ever matched the reality. Perry taught her that.

If only she’d remembered.

D
etective, would you still care for breakfast this morning?” Frannie asked.

He’d slept late after being up most of the evening, going through all the notes from the investigation.

And now, of course, his ever-present host was checking up on him. Again. And looking at him like he was a child in need of discipline. “Did you save me anything?”

“I did. Nothing too much. Just fruit and a bagel. And a turkey sandwich for later.”

“That’s all, huh?” He smiled, suddenly glad she’d been keeping tabs on him. “Frannie, I swear, you’re like the sister I never had.”

Her brow furrowed. “Surely not. It’s simply that I’m starting to understand what you like.”

“Do you have a moment to sit with me?”

“I have to work, Mr. Reynolds.”

“I know. But I need to speak with you about something.”

Gingerly, Frannie approached the table and sat across from him. “Is there a problem?”

“Maybe.” With effort, Luke finally asked the question he’d been meaning to, but did his best to try to sound as frank and nonjudgmental as he could. “Frannie, you never told me that you knew Perry Borntrager.”

“You never asked.”

“That’s hardly fair. You know I’m here to investigate his death. You’ve deliberately been keeping information from me,” he added, finally giving up on his hope to stay calm, cool, and collected. “Were you seeing him?”

“For a time, I suppose I was.”

“And what happened?”

“We discovered that we didn’t suit.”

“How did you decide that? What happened?”

She paled. “What happened between Perry and me did not bring about his death.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that. But can you let me know when you became involved?”

“Officer, I don’t think it’s important—”

“Frannie, please,” he snapped. “It’s important to the investigation. When did you see him last?”

She swallowed hard. “On December thirtieth.”

Finally, they were getting somewhere! “Where were you?”

“At the Schrocks’ store. He was in the front, walking with his sister. I didn’t speak to him much, though,” she said quickly. “None of us did.”

He stilled. “ ‘None of us’? Who was there?”

She looked down at her hands. “Lydia Plank, Walker Anderson, Jacob, of course.”

“Jacob?”

“Jacob Schrock.” After a pause, she said, “Jacob, then Perry and Deborah, his sister. My friend Beth. And me.”

Luke struggled to hide his surprise. So many people had seen Perry the day before New Year’s and Frannie was the first one to tell him about it? “What did Perry say? What did you say to him?”

She looked away. “I don’t remember.”

“Frannie, I’m not playing a game.”

Her eyes looked troubled. “I didn’t think you were. I just have no more information for you. I’m afraid I cannot help you anymore, Luke.” And with that, she turned away from him and walked to the kitchen.

Though he wasn’t invited to follow, he did. Then tried another tack. “Don’t you want to make sure justice is served for Perry?”

“It already has been served. Perry is gone, and he’s having to visit with St. Peter up at the gates of heaven for his sins. God doesn’t need my help in that area.”