The Barefoot Believers (26 page)

“But I will. As much as you need me to,” Jo went on. “And the best place to do that is right here in Santa Sofia. In this cottage on Dream Away Bay Court.”

“I never asked you girls to take care of me,” Mom protested.

“Yes, you did, Mom.” Kate said it first, carrying on what Jo had started with them dealing honestly with one another at last. “When you sold your condo, making yourself literally homeless. Then when you showed up at my office—an appointment
you
made—to announce your wild idea about coming down here. What do you call that?”

“A plan. I called that a plan.”

“As I recall, that plan involved friends?” Kate prodded.

“They made
other
plans,” Dodie confessed.

“Oh, Mom.” Jo came over and put her arms around her mother.

Kate put her hand on Dodie's.

“Guess it wasn't a very good plan, huh?” Dodie sighed, laughed a little, then picked up the old photo and looked at it, really looked at it, at last. “I can't believe you found this after all these years. I thought it was lost for good.”

“I put it in my treasure chest,” Kate said.

“Hiding it or saving it?” Jo asked.

Kate opened her mouth then shut it again, not giving an answer.

Dodie turned a hopeful gaze to her oldest daughter. “And the other one?”

Kate shook her head.

“What other one?” Jo asked.

“Mom took this one and didn't get all of the new truck in it, so Dad took a second photo with Mom and Christina in it.” Kate put her hand on her mother's arm. “It wasn't in the box, though, Mom. I don't know what happened to it.”

“I do.” Moxie Weatherby stood in the back doorway, her eyes red and wide, and a picture frame clutched high against her chest. “It's been hanging in Billy J's Bait Shack Buffet for more than twenty years. Not that you could find it in the junk.”

“Billy J had a picture of our mom and sister?” Jo tried to make sense of it.

“No.” Moxie turned the frame around to show them all as she choked back a sob and managed to say, “The picture he had was of
me
and…and
my mom.
”

“M
y birth father told my adoptive parents that you were an aunt and had no interest in finding me. He didn't give a name or where this supposed aunt lived. We had no idea.” Moxie spoke to Dodie, despite the fact that Dodie could not seem to hear her words.

The older woman sat in the kitchen, stunned, staring at the photos and shaking her head. “It can't be. It just can't be.”

“Wait.” Jo put her hand to her forehead. “You were here in Santa Sofia all this time?”

“My birth father left me with the Weatherbys when I was five. He gave them the right to adopt me and I assume that's what happened. I have always used their name, I never knew my whole name before that. I think my birth father may have used aliases.”

The other women all exchanged anxious and then knowing glances that all but confirmed they believed Moxie's suspicion.

Moxie pulled her shoulders up protectively but it did not shield her from her doubts and anxieties. What if she'd gotten it all wrong? What if she had it right but the Cromwells didn't care? “I just know that this is the only remnant I've ever had of my life before the Weatherbys. It fits. It's the companion to your photograph.”

All of them stared at the two pictures now.

“Isn't it?” Moxie barely managed to whisper.

Kate touched the faded old photo in the frame.

Jo gaped at her in what could have been awe or maybe she was appalled at Moxie's nerve at making this assumption. Moxie couldn't tell.

Dodie looked up at last.

“Isn't it?” Moxie asked again, pleaded really, for some answer. “Isn't it me in that picture? Doesn't that mean—”

“Christina?” Dodie raised her trembling hand. “Is that really you?”

“Molly Christina,” she murmured in what sounded as though her voice had had to travel from a long ways away. “They used to call me Molly Christina.”

Tears streamed down Dodie's round yet wrinkled cheeks, blurring the brilliance of the green of her eyes.

“Yes. I can see where that would have come from.” Dodie dragged in a deep breath. “Molly was your grandmother Cromwell's name.”

“It's true then?” Jo asked.

“It's true,” Kate confirmed.

Then the room fell silent.

Moxie had no idea what she had expected but it wasn't this. Silence. Awkward, aching silence.

The tightness in her chest pressed inward, closing, clamping. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak. The greatest mystery of her life had been revealed and she had no idea what to do about it.

Kate got up from her chair, her eyes searching, her whole body rigid as if she were restraining herself from actually bolting out of the room.

Jo leaned forward, one hand on her mother's arm, the other on one of the shoe boxes.

Moxie took a step backward. “This is all so much to process, for all of us. Maybe I should—”

“Christina. My Christina. My baby.” In the time it took for Dodie to say the words, she had Moxie wrapped in her arms. She said the name again and again as she kissed Moxie's hair, her cheeks, even her fingers. At last she stepped back, took Moxie's face in her hands, put her gaze in direct line with her newfound daughter's and said, “I have been looking for you for your entire life.”

“You have?”

“There hasn't been a day gone by that I haven't cried for you, prayed for you, hoped for you. I always loved you, Christina. Always.”

She'd always loved her. Always. All those years when Moxie had felt unsure and unlovable, someone had been out there praying for her, loving her. Moxie gasped and tears flowed freely from her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Dodie hugged her close again. “Why do you think I kept this cottage? Why do you think we came down here every summer and sent our distant cousins the McGreggors here every winter?”

“The McGreggors were your relation?” That was probably where Billy J had gotten the idea that the lady in the photograph was a relative but not her mother. “I…I don't see what that has to do with looking for me.”

“Because I knew at some point your father would bring you here. Between jobs, between relationships, he'd have to have a place to stay at
some
point and since he knew we only came down here once a year…” Dodie let Moxie fill in the blank.

“But didn't you look for me? Really look for me?” Moxie had been right here for most of her life. Though with homeschooling, and her fierce independent streak, not to mention that the Cromwells hadn't come here in person for sixteen years, it might not have been as simple as it seemed.

“I looked every year, though I have to admit, honey, I might have looked straight at you a time or two and never realized it. I was looking for a child who looked like Jo or Kate, and you look…”

“Like you, Mom,” Jo observed. “Right down to your feet.”

Every one of them looked down.

Jo wriggled her chubby toes.

Dodie did the same.

Moxie felt compelled to wiggle hers, though no one could see through her shoes.

Dodie looked up first and began smoothing back Moxie's hair as she went on, “When I didn't have any luck finding you in Santa Sofia, I used the revenue from the cottage to fund going places to search for you during the summer.”

“That's what you did on all those vacations by yourself?” Kate appeared absolutely incredulous.

“Going places?” Moxie tried to imagine what she meant. “Like?”

“Like places I knew your father had contacts or where he had talked of going. Mobile. Savannah. St. Louis. Nashville. You want evidence of all the places I went, it's all in the rock garden.”

Moxie lifted her head as though she could see through the walls to the odd assortment of ornaments. “You sent those souvenirs?”

“I knew I'd find you one day and I wanted there to be a record to show you that I never gave up, Christina, um, Molly?”

“Moxie. I like Moxie.”

Dodie stroked her cheek. “I like it, too.”

“What? She is our sister all of two minutes and you approve of her picking out her own nickname. Kate has like a thousand nicknames but no one ever gave me—”

They all looked at Jo. She pressed her lips shut.

That only lasted a few seconds before she broke into laughter.

Jo opened her arms and threw them around Moxie. “I can't believe this. I really can't.”

Moxie hugged her sister back.

Her sister. It felt so weird and so wonderful to say it, even just in her head.

When they pulled apart, Dodie slapped her hands together. “Sit, baby, we have so much to talk about. You want me to make you a sandwich?”

“A…sandwich?” In context of the monumental discovery they'd just made, it seemed far too small a response. And just exactly the
right
response. They were family. This was her family. These were her sisters and this, her mom. Why wouldn't they want to sit down and eat together? “I think a sandwich would be great.”

T
hey talked until long past all of their bedtimes and Moxie ended up spending the night. The next morning, wanting to both reciprocate for the tuna sandwich and snacks and because she said she needed to find a way for her new mom and old cantankerous dad to come to terms with what had happened, Moxie offered to open up the Bait Shack Buffet and cook breakfast for them all.

Kate begged off, saying she'd done too much the last few days and needed to rest her foot. It was the truth. Though when she looked out the window of her upstairs bedroom and saw a certain red pickup truck pull in across the street, she figured her foot had rested enough and up she got.

She made the trip around the house and across the way with practiced ease but the last little bit, coming up the drive, she slowed. Vince had gone inside. Probably already engulfed in a project to make the place more comfortable for Esperanza and Fabbie. And by doing so, making Gentry all the more comfortable
not
being here.

Suddenly not being there sounded like a great idea.

She paused, her cane firmly planted, then began to turn away to go home again.

“Well, there she is.” Vince came down from the porch with a leather tool belt slung over one shoulder, a can of paint in one hand and a power drill in the other. “Kate the wise.”

Clang.
He set the paint can in the back of his truck.

“Kate the righteous.”

Thud.
Next came the power tool.

“Crowing Kate.”

Ka-chunk.
He unburdened himself of the tool belt then made the two long strides to stand before her with his hands on his hips.

Kate took a moment just to look at him. Vince Merchant. Hardworking handyman. Loving father and grandfather. Good neighbor.

The man she had never completely stopped loving.

The very thing he had recently accused Kate of never allowing in her life—something worth hanging onto. But in order to do that, she would first have to let go.

Of fear.

Of her defenses.

Of the past.

And mostly, of the man himself. Of all she had built him up to be. Of all the things he never would be.

She had to let go in order to hang on.

If she could do that, then maybe…

“Actually, it's Humble Kate.” She leaned on her cane with her left hand and extended her right as if introducing herself for the first time to the man she had loved for half her life. “I'm here to apologize.”

He opened his mouth, probably to zing her with a quick comeback, then froze, cocked his head and shut his mouth again.

Kate smiled. She'd left Vince Merchant speechless. That was a start.

Emboldened, she asked, “Aren't you going to invite me in so we can talk about this?”

“I would but this isn't my home.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the quaint little “mystery house.” “Gentry and Esperanza are moving his things in later today. He's in. I'm out. They want to do the work here themselves.”

Which was as it should be, she almost said, but caught herself. The man knew that. She could see it in his eyes. He did not need Kate the Great to point it out to him. “I'm glad to hear that.”

He nodded. “No sense in pretending you had no hand in it. If it were left up to me…”

I'd have botched it big time.
The man knew, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

Kate put both hands on her cane, which she imagined made her appear quite humble. “Oh, I just made one little phone call.”

He narrowed his eyes and studied her. “Don't kid yourself.”

“Well…” She wondered if she was blushing.

“Nothing is that simple.”

“Oh. Um, yes, you're right of course.” Now she knew for sure she was blushing because the heat reached from her neck to her temples.

“But your being there, your calling him, your finally telling him why you left all those years ago, gave Gentry a message that I hadn't gotten across to him in a lifetime.” He shuffled his feet, dropped his gaze. “No matter what passes between people, love hangs tough. It gives the best and expects the best, even when ‘the best' hurts or is inconvenient or comes at a personal sacrifice.”

“I think I've read that somewhere before.” She smiled to hear this rugged handyman sum up the “love” chapter from Corinthians so simply, and from his heart.

“And obviously the kids wanted their marriage to work.”

“Of course.”

“When Esperanza moved here with the baby, she had given Gentry an ultimatum. Get a job and grow up.”

“And he did get a job.”

“Yeah, but he never had any real reason to grow up. I mean, I raised him to believe he'd always get a second chance. And a third.” Some people might have at least chuckled as they said something like that, to soften the harshness of such a painful confession. This time, Vince did not try to make light of it. “And if those didn't work out, I'd swoop in to the rescue.”

“You always let him win.”

“Hmm?”

“At Wa Hoo. You always let him win at Wa Hoo, Vince. Even as a kid he knew that wasn't right.”

“Wa Hoo.” His smile quirked up on one side, showing a hint of the old Vince again. “Thanks, Kate.”

She nodded.
Let him go.
“So I guess this means I won't be seeing you around this place anymore?”

“Not around
this
place.” He put one hand on the tailgate of his truck and raised his head so that his line of vision fixed on the only other house on Dream Away Bay Court.

“Is that your not-so-subtle way of angling for an invite over to my place?” she asked, not even pretending to play it coy.

“I don't know. The two of us? What would the neighbors say?”

“It's about time,” she muttered a guess through a sly smile.

“Why, Kate!” He feigned shock badly.

“Let me finish.” She held up her hand. “It's about time the two of them stopped acting like lovestruck kids and did a little growing up themselves.”

“Lovestruck? Kate, to be lovestruck you'd first have to be in—”

“I love you, Vince Merchant. On some level, I always have and the biggest regret of my life was not sticking around and fighting for that love, and for our family.”

“Our family,” he whispered, then slowly, wistfully nodded his head in acceptance of that. “It's a little late in coming together, Kate. Do you think we can get past that?”

“I do.”

“Remember those words, you may need to say them in front of a preacher later,” he said softly just before he took her in his arms and kissed her. When he lifted his lips from hers, it was only to whisper “I love you, Kate. With all my heart.”

“Vince…I…” Kate's cell phone blared out and cut her off. She glanced down to see Jo's number. “I have to take this.”

“Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere,” he said.

“You're not?”

He smiled at her and shook his head.

When she flipped open her phone, she practically sang her greeting, “Hey there!”

“Kate, we need you to meet us at the urgent-care clinic.”

Kate's pulse quickened at the breathless rush of Jo's words. “What's wrong? Is it the baby?”

“Is it Fabbie?” Vince stepped up. “Is she sick again?”

“No. It's Moxie,” Jo said, still struggling to get her breath.

“Moxie?”

Another gulp of air and then laughter as her sister spilled out the explanation. “Billy J tried to sneak out of the restaurant to go fishing. Mom decided that sounded like fun and took off to tag along. Moxie grabbed the fishing poles, snagged a giant plastic swordfish, which fell from the ceiling, and she tripped over it and there's blood everywhere and—”

“A swordfish? Fell from the ceiling?” Kate rolled her eyes. She had given up a second kiss from Vince for
this?
“What?”

“Please don't make me say that again. The upshot is that she has a gash that is probably nothing but may need stitches.”

“Oh, I get it. She's our sister for less than one whole day and already she's gotten the competition bug and is trying to get a better bad-foot story than the two of us.”

“It's not her foot.”

“Moxie? Your sister?” Vince squinted and shook his head.

“What?” Kate held up a finger to ask him to hold that thought a moment.

“Knees and shins,” Jo explained.

“Aww, upping the ante. I see where this is going,” Kate teased.

“Shall I call Travis and ask him to swing by and bring you to the clinic?” Jo asked.

“No. I think I can get a ride.”

Vince nodded his head. “Why not? I don't have any more work to do here. And you can tell me about Moxie on the way.”

Later that day, when the sun had begun to set, the sisters put their feet up on a footstool on the back deck overlooking the most wondrous tacky garden in all of Santa Sofia.

Mom and Billy J had not yet returned from their fishing trip. Gentry, Esperanza and Fabiola were probably sitting down to their first evening together as a family in their new home. And the men in their lives had gone out to pick up something for their supper.

“So, beach wedding at sunrise or chapel wedding with all the trimmings?” Jo looked up from taking off the last bits of her once-fancy toenail polish.

“We're not even officially engaged.”
Yet.
Kate shook her head. She wondered if Vince still had the ring he had once bought for her and if he did, how would it feel to have him slide it on her finger? She held her hand out and admired the place where it would rest, as if the diamond were already winking at her.

“After all these years,” Moxie marveled, shifting about her bandaged leg.

Kate wasn't quite sure if she was talking about the belated romance or their finding each other again. Did it matter? She decided it didn't. They were both awesome examples of God putting things right in His time.

“Anyway, given our history, you may be married before I am,” Kate reflected wisely.

“Who? Me?” Both Moxie and Jo looked up at her.

“Yes. Either one of you.
Both
of you.” Kate looked first at one sister then the other, then laughed. “Don't tell me it never occurred to you. No dreams of white gowns, frothy veils and gorgeous jewel-encrusted wedding slippers?”

“Only if those shoes are my something borrowed.” Moxie aimed a keen eye at Jo. “I can't imagine ever
owning
something like those.”

“Sorry. My days of buying shoes that cost an arm and a leg are over. How do you feel about rhinestone-encrusted flip-flops?”

“Works for me.” Moxie clinked her iced tea glass to Jo's.

“I can't believe what I'm hearing.” Kate blinked and pretended to clean out her ears. “Jo is giving up expensive shoes?”

“Maybe all shoes.”

“You plan on going barefoot?”

“I just might. I'm thinking of starting a group down at the beach to meet, study the Bible, take on service projects, whatever needs to be done.”

“Sign me up,” Moxie volunteered. “What do you plan to call this group?”

“Well, in honor of how me and Kate got down here again and as a way of making anyone who joins feel equal as sisters in Christ—”

“Which really
should
be a sisterhood, not a competition,” Kate just had to throw in.

“I'm thinking, the Barefoot Believers.”

“I like it.” Moxie wriggled her toes. “Imagine the chance to show how much you love God without having to put on shoes that pinch!”

The iced-tea glasses clinked again.

Then all went silent for a moment.

Kate looked out over the yard, then lifted her head and found that if she tried, if she really concentrated, she could still hear the ocean. In that instant, she was connected to the past, her childhood, her memories, to the poet inside the podiatrist, to her mother—and in a small way, her father—to her sisters, to Vince and Gentry and most of all to God. She had run for so long and gone so far only to find Him waiting for her at every turn.

Even in Santa Sofia.

“This isn't really a bad place to settle down, is it?” Kate observed, wriggling her bare toes in her now grubby but still vibrant purple cast.

“Good place to lose yourself,” Jo murmured, her eyes shut and a peaceful smile on her face for the first time in a long time.