The Long Ride Home (7 page)

“I guess so,” Morgan said, brushing a fly off Blaze’s neck. “I’d really like to connect with my parents again, and God knows that.”

“Then why don’t you start tonight?” Skye asked. “Let’s go back to the house and you can give your mom a call. What are you waiting for?”

“You’re right, Skye,” Morgan said. “I’ll do it tonight.”

T
he number you have dialed is no longer in service…

Saturday night Morgan came up dry trying to reach her mother, and every time she tried to call her aunt, she got another recorded message asking the caller to leave a phone number. “Maybe Aunt Martha’s on one of her cruises again,” she said to Skye. “I guess I’ll have to play the waiting game.”

But the story was different for Skye. On Monday evening at nine o’clock sharp, Skye, with jittery hands, punched in her mother’s cell phone number. Mr. and Mrs. Chambers and Morgan sat at the dining room table giving Skye moral support.

“Hello.” A woman’s gruff voice on the phone spoke with an air of suspicion.

“Is-is this Rita?” Skye’s nerves had already gotten the best of her.

“Who’s this?” the voice asked.

“Th-this is Skye Nicholson, and I’d like to speak to Rita, please.” Skye’s voice squeaked.

“Skye? Is this my baby Skye?” Without another word, the woman started weeping uncontrollably. “Sk-Skye—” she tried to speak, but nothing came out but sobs.

Skye found herself in a stranglehold of emotion matching that of her long-lost mother. Just as when Skye met her father, her often-suppressed feelings came bursting through. Her face turned red hot and her eyes burned with a sudden flood of tears that trickled down her face. “R—Rita, ma’am, are—are you okay?” Skye riveted on Mrs. Chambers, whose eyes were also red as she gave a smile and a reassuring nod.

Mr. Chambers reached to the counter, grabbed a tissue and handed it to Skye. Morgan focused on Skye with genuine interest.

“Thanks,” Skye whispered to Mr. Chambers and dabbed her eyes. “Rita?” she said into the phone.

“Yes, Skye baby,” the woman said. “I’m here. I’m so glad you called. Your father’s not with you, is he?”

“No, ma’am,” Skye answered. “He’s in Gatlinburg. I’m in Pennsylvania with my foster parents and foster sister.”

Skye heard her mother sniffle and blow her nose before she spoke again. “I told Millie I don’t want him to know where I am. I hope she told you that.”

“She did, but he’s different now. He wants to talk to you and tell you he’s not after you anymore. He’s married to a nice lady, and he has a whole new life.”

“Well, that’s nifty for him, but he doesn’t need to talk to me. Let’s just let it go at that,” Rita said. “So you’re at your foster home right now?”

“Yes, I am,” Skye said. “Where do you live?”

“I’d rather not say at the moment. But I will tell you that I’m in Pennsylvania. And you said you’re in Pennsylvania? So that means we’re close enough that we could meet?”

“Yes,” Skye said. “I’d really like to.”

“I hope so,” Rita said. “And I do want to see you as soon as possible. I’ve agonized all these years wondering where you were, and—” Again, Rita began to weep.

Skye held the phone away from her mouth and whispered to Mr. and Mrs. Chambers. “She lives somewhere in Pennsylvania and she wants to see me ASAP. What should I tell her?”

Mrs. Chambers whispered back, “You two make plans, and we’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

“R-Rita,” Skye said, “I can meet you anytime you want. Do you want to come here?”

“I—I’d rather not,” Rita said, regaining her composure. “I’d like to meet in some neutral place. Maybe we can have a picnic at a park or something.”

“Will anyone be with you?” Skye asked. “I mean, do you have a family?”

“I’ll be coming alone,” Rita sniffled. “I have—well—I’ll be coming alone.”

Wow, she really doesn’t trust anyone,
Skye figured. “I’ll be coming with my foster family, but if you want to see me by myself, they can sit in the truck or go to a picnic table nearby.” Skye glanced at Mrs. Chambers who nodded and smiled.

“No, that’s all right, Skye,” Rita said. “I’d like to meet the family you live with now. Really.”

Skye whispered to the Chambers, “She wants to meet all of us at a park somewhere for a picnic.”

Mr. Chambers nodded and gave Skye a thumbs-up.

“That’ll be fine with us,” Skye said.

Rita paused then said, “Skye, do you know where Matunga State Park is? It’s on route 83, about halfway between Harrisburg and the Maryland border.”

“Yes,” Skye said. “That’s one of my favorite places in the whole wide world. We’ve camped there and have walked the falls and everything.”

“Well,” Rita said, “are you able to meet me there this Saturday? I don’t have to work.”

“She wants to meet us at the Matunga State Park this Saturday,” Skye whispered, and everyone nodded.

“Yes, ma’am. We can be there,” Skye told Rita. “Where should we meet you—and what time?”

“Can you meet me at the picnic tables by the bridge near the falls at eleven?” Rita asked.

“Yes,” Skye said.

Mr. Chambers gave Skye another nod and a smile.

“I’ll wear a bright red shirt so you can’t miss me. How does that all sound?”

“I’ll wear a red top too,” Skye said.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Rita said. “There’s no way I’m going to miss you on Saturday. I’ve been missing you all these years, and it’s finally going to end. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Skye beamed a radiant smile. “We’ll be there at eleven sharp.”

Right after her phone conversation with Rita, Skye searched through her dresser and closet and decided that her cherry red T-shirt would probably be red enough to wear. But when modeling it for Mrs. Chambers and Morgan, Skye kidded that she still needed neon strips and a string of glowing lights sewn on the shirt to make sure her mother would see her.

“I have no doubt your mother will see you,” Morgan said. “No doubt at all.”

The week dragged on so slowly, Skye began to think she was in some kind of science fiction nightmare where time-warp aliens tortured the earthling teens by morphing every second into an hour. All week long, Skye kept
gawking at her watch, hoping with her whole heart that it would suddenly become Saturday at 11 a.m.

Finally, Saturday morning did arrive in a hot and humid package, and at 11:03 am the Chambers family pulled into the parking lot adjoining the picnic pavilions at the Matunga State Park.

“Wow,” Skye said, “look how full it is!”

“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Chambers said. “School starts in a few weeks, so everyone’s trying to get their last-minute summer fun in.”

Her chest booming, Skye rolled down the cab window, stretched her neck, and scanned the row of picnic tables along the road. As Mr. Chambers parked the truck in one of the few open stalls, Skye’s glance darted wildly, examining every pavilion and table for the color red. Mrs. Chambers and Morgan were doing the same. Skye spotted several red shirts, but children claimed them all.

“I hope she’s already here,” Morgan said. “As jam packed as this place is, I bet there aren’t any tables left.”

“We might have to eat lunch in the truck,” Mr. Chambers said to his wife. “But your ham salad sandwiches would even taste good in the barn! It doesn’t matter to me where we eat them.”

Skye had no interest in food whatsoever. “Can we get out and look?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Tom, try to find an empty—”

“Over there!” Skye yelled. “Look! At the table next to the wooden bridge! I see a plump lady in a red shirt and blue jeans. It looks like she has long, dark hair, and she has it pulled up into some kind of twisted knob. She’s sitting at a table by herself, and her back’s to us. I bet she’s doing that because she’s still running scared.”

“I see her,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You might be right, Skye. She probably doesn’t want to be facing all these people.”

“That must be her!” Skye opened the door and jumped out. “Let’s go!”

“Just hang on a minute,” Mrs. Chambers said, getting out of the car. “We’ll all go together. Wait until Tom gets Morgan into her chair.”

Skye did double time raking her hands through her hair and chewing her lip. “Okay, okay, what can I do to get us there faster?”

“Nothing, Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’ll leave the cooler in the back of the truck until later.” Mr. Chambers hopped out of the truck and retrieved Morgan’s wheelchair from the back of the cab. “If that woman isn’t your mother, we’ll grab the nearest vacant table.” He set the chair firmly on the macadam pathway and placed Morgan in it.

“Thanks, Mr. C.,” Morgan said then she glanced at Skye and giggled. “Why, Sis, your face is as red as that shirt. You’re not too excited, are you?”

Focused on the stranger, Skye had completely tuned out the last few seconds of conversation. She turned, reached behind the cab, and lifted the cooler out of the flatbed.

“Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’re not taking that with us now. You have enough on your mind.”

Skye turned and started hurrying toward the bridge. “Let’s go,” she said again. Glancing back, she gestured for her family to hurry. “C’mon.”

Mrs. Chambers started pushing Morgan toward the bridge and chuckled. “Something tells me Skye wants us to follow her.”

“Let’s go, Mr. and Mrs. C.,” Morgan said. “That girl is going absolutely bonkers.”

Skye had trouble keeping her legs from running full speed ahead toward the bridge. She glanced back, reassuring herself that the rest of her family was following as best as they could. But just several yards from her goal,
Skye came to an abrupt stop. Huffing, she studied the woman’s hair, trying its best to beat the humidity and stay in its disheveled knob. Skye’s glance drifted to the woman’s broad back, blotches of perspiration soaking through the bright red shirt.
I don’t want to scare her,
she reasoned as she wiped beads of sweat from her own forehead. Again, she glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Chambers and Morgan and waited as they came by her side.

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Chambers said, smiling.

Skye turned and, again, studied the woman who sat facing the other way, waiting.
What if it isn’t my mother?
Skye thought.
This could all be a big mistake.

Finally, Skye took a deep jagged breath and spoke her mother’s real name. “Rita?”

The woman stood, and with tears streaming down her fiery red face, looked in Skye’s direction.

While Skye stared at the stranger, the woman’s expression suddenly melded into shock and disbelief, and her face turned pale as a whitewashed fence.

“R-Rita?” Skye asked. “Are you my mother?”

Then Skye heard Morgan shrieking beside her. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

“Mom? Where’s your mom?” Skye spun toward Morgan; then quickly surveyed the grounds for another woman, but there was no one.

“Mrs.
Hendricks?”
Skye heard Mrs. Chamber’s voice as if it were coming from far away.
“You’re Rita?”

“What’s going on?” Skye demanded of the stranger. “Are you my mother?”

S
kye glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Chambers standing with their faces locked in complete confusion. Skye stared at Rita who could do nothing but return an astonished look.

“She’s
my
mother, Nancy Hendricks!” Morgan exclaimed. “But—how—this can’t be for real. How can you be Skye’s mother when you’re my mother?”

Skye felt like she had been wrapped in duct tape with only her lungs and brain able to function, and they were barreling full speed ahead. Finally, she managed to speak as she focused on Rita. “Now wait. You’re my mother…and you’re Morgan’s mother too? Is that what I’m hearing? You’ve got to be kidding!” Skye glanced at Morgan, whose face was still draped in disbelief, and then she shifted back to Rita who just sat and stared.

Mr. Chambers made his way to the picnic table. “Folks, it seems as though we have one of the world’s greatest mysteries right before our very eyes.” He released a nervous smile as he lifted his Stetson, scratched his head, and carefully squared his hat. “Let’s try to relax and sort this all out.”

Skye positioned Morgan in her wheelchair next to a corner of the table, but couldn’t find one word to say.

“Well, this is certainly one for the books.” Mrs. Chambers shook the woman’s hand and spoke with a quivering voice. “It’s good to see you again, Nancy. Should I assume correctly that you are also Rita, Skye’s mother?”

Prodded by Mrs. Chambers, Rita shook her hand and then flopped back onto the bench. As her gaze darted from Skye to Morgan and back, she nervously chewed her lip. “I—I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to begin. This is unbelievable. The last time I visited Keystone Stables, I didn’t see Skye there.”

“She wasn’t with us then,” Mr. Chambers said. “She came several months later.”

“Morgan never mentioned Skye in any of her phone calls,” Rita said.

“You mean all two of them?” Morgan’s voice portrayed total embarrassment.

Rita dabbed her eyes and blew her nose in a tissue. “And last Monday evening when I talked with Skye, I never asked her anything about her foster parents. So I had no way of knowing.”

Skye was still unable to move.

“Skye,” Mrs. Chambers said, “earth to Skye.” She hurried to Skye’s side, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, honey. We’ll get this all sorted out.”

Following her lead, Skye approached the table. As she did, Rita rushed toward Skye and drew her into a warm embrace. “Skye,” the woman wept uncontrollably, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

Slowly Skye wrapped her arms around the chubby woman’s frame and rested her head on Rita’s chest drenched with perspiration. Despite the confusion running through her mind, Skye felt strangely complete as she finally connected with the woman who had given her life. At last, Skye felt that she was home.

With deep sobs, Rita tried to speak as she hugged Skye tightly. Moving her to arm’s length, she moaned, “My baby Skye.”

After another long tearful embrace, Rita turned toward Morgan. “Morgan,” she said, “I really don’t know where to begin telling you how sorry I am about—everything.” She bent down and gave Morgan an enormous hug. “I really am very glad to see you. How have you been?

Suddenly, tough girl Skye found herself sniffling back a barrage of tears as she focused on Morgan, whose eyes were also red and moist.

“Well, Mother,” Morgan cried, “I’d be lying if I told you I’ve been fine.”

Rita backed away and studied Morgan intently. “What do you mean? Are you sick or something? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing like that,” Morgan said, wiping tears from her face. “I’ve just been missing you lately, that’s all.”

“I know I haven’t acted like it, but you’ve never been out of my thoughts.” Rita gave Morgan another hug and stepped back to the table. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.” The woman dabbed her face, red and blotchy from the sweat and tears.

Skye quickly brushed away her own tears and forced out a smile. “Start at the beginning,” she said.

“Yes, we have all day,” Mr. Chambers said, sitting on the bench.

Mrs. Chambers sat on the opposite side of the table from Rita and gestured to Skye. “C’mon, honey, sit down and get comfortable.”

Skye joined Mrs. Chambers at the table, folded her hands to stop them from quivering, and riveted her attention on her real mother.

“I’m sure Rita—ah—Nancy—ah—” Mrs. Chambers paused. “What would you like us to call you?”

For a moment, Rita stared into space. “Skye can decide what she’d like to call me. If she likes ‘Mom’ or ‘Mother,’ that’s fine with me.”

“And I’ll just keep calling you Mom,” Morgan said with a slight chuckle. “Why change now?”

“The other day I told Millie on the phone that everyone should call me Rita, but with this latest development, I think it would be best if you call me Nancy. That’s been my name for the last eleven years, so let’s just stay with that and forget Rita.”

“Fine,” Mr. Chambers said.

“Nancy,” Mrs. Chambers said, “why don’t you start by telling us what happened after Jacy went to prison.”

Nancy took a deep jagged breath and began. “When Jacy threatened to kill me, the police helped me change my identity. That’s when I left Skye with Millie. Giving up Skye was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” With her bottom lip quivering, Nancy glanced at Skye and released another barrage of tears. “Within a year I moved back to the Scranton area with my new name, Nancy McMillan, and a new hair color.” She tugged at a few strands of straggly hair dangling in front of her ear.

Skye studied her brand-new mother and started comparing the woman’s looks to her own.
Our eyes are the same, and so is our hair, that is, if that’s her natural color.

“Skye,” Nancy said, “I’m not dyeing my hair anymore. Our hair color’s the same.”

“And our eyes,” Skye said with a tearful smile.

Nancy continued, “After working at a bookstore in Scranton for a few months, I met Mike Hendricks, a book distributor. His wife had just died of kidney failure, and he was caring for his four-year-old daughter by himself.” Nancy looked in Morgan’s direction and smiled. Then she slipped off the bench and knelt beside Morgan, embracing her hands. “Morgan, I’m so sorry,
but I have another bombshell for you. You were that little girl. You’re Mike’s daughter, not mine. You were too little at that time to know that. When Mike and I got married, I was thrilled that I could take care of you because I was still grieving over giving up Skye. Please forgive me for not telling you before. Please!” Nancy sobbed.

“You mean you’re just my stepmother?” Morgan gasped as her eyes grew big and her eyebrows peaked.

“Morgan, I loved you as my own daughter,” Nancy said. “And then when the other three kids came along, it never seemed that important anymore to tell you. You all got along so well.”

“So my real mother died?” Morgan’s look of disbelief deepened.

“Yes,” Nancy wailed, wiping her cheeks. “And I’m begging you to forgive me for not telling you before. Oh, everything is such a mess.”

“Wow!” Morgan cried as she wiped her face of a flood of tears as well. “This
is
a biggie. And I thought it was Skye’s big day! It’s going to take a while for all of this to sink in.”

“It’s going to take a while for all of us to process this.” With tear-filled eyes, Mrs. Chambers grasped Skye’s hand. “But I believe God has allowed all of this to happen for a purpose. It seems that the truth needs to come out—and now. I believe the girls want to try to accept anything you have to tell them, Nancy.”

“I am.” Morgan stared deep into her stepmother’s eyes. “But I’m not sure if knowing the truth about my real mother when I was younger would have made any difference with the way I feel now. I love you as my real mother. My problem is that I haven’t shown it lately.”

Nancy gave Morgan a reassuring smile and said, “I know you were terribly hurt when I had to put you into foster care. It hurt me deeply, too. That was also one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. In fact, I had to live over
that same hurt that I suffered when I had to give Skye to Millie. That’s why I haven’t called or visited more. It seems like I’ve gained a reputation for giving kids away. That’s not at all the way I planned my life to be.”

“Nancy, we don’t hold that against you, and neither does God.” By now, Mr. Chambers had also joined the tear fest. “Sometimes life dishes out some awfully painful experiences. But as Eileen said before, God has it all worked out for everyone’s best interest.”

“I sure hope so,” Nancy said, sniffling.

“Morgan has told me a lot about her brother and two sisters,” Skye said. “So that means they’re mine, too.”

“Well, they’d be your half siblings,” Nancy said. She slipped back onto the bench. “There’s Stevie, and he’s nine. Then there’s Tasha, who’s seven, and Richelle, who’s just five. Today they’re with my husband’s sister, Martha. I brought a whole bunch of pictures with me, if you’d like to see them later.” Nancy smiled at Morgan. “Have you told them about Aunt Martha?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, dabbing at her eyes, “and I’m surprised she’s not fluttering around Europe or someplace like that right now.”

“It’s one of her rare times at home,” Nancy said. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring the other kids. I didn’t know how you’d feel about them, Skye. If I would have only known.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Mrs. Chambers said. “We’ll meet them in good time.”

Skye glanced at Morgan and released a super smile. “I’m sure if those kids are anything like my best friend, they’re cool. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“It’s still hard to believe that you’re not my real mother,” Morgan said, “and as far as I’m concerned, it really doesn’t matter. Honest it doesn’t. But the more I think about things you did in the past, the more they make sense now. So how are the little rascals? Lately I’ve really been missing them.”

“They’re all doing pretty good,” Nancy said. “It’s tough trying to raise them and keep a full-time job. Your father hadn’t sent any child support for years, but just over the last few months, he’s started sending some checks. That money helps a lot.”

“So you know where he is?” Morgan asked.

“Yes,” Nancy said. “He’s still in California.”

“I’d like to write to him,” Morgan said. “I’d love if he could tell me about my real mother. Can I have his address?”

“Sure thing,” Nancy said. “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. I think he’s mellowed a bit as he’s grown older. He often asks how you are.”

“Nancy—” Skye started and then said, “Mother…do you mind if I call you that?”

“I’d love if you would,” Nancy said.

“That way I can keep you and Mom Chambers straight.” She glanced at Mrs. Chambers, who gave her that same reassuring smile, and then looked at her real mom again. “Mother, I met Father several months ago and we keep in touch all the time now. You don’t need to hide from him anymore. He became a Christian, and he’s told me again and again that the car accident was all his fault. He’s not out to get you, and he just wishes you the best. He wants me to try to convince you of that.”

“I’ve been watching my back all these years,” Nancy said, “and it’s kinda hard believing someone can change just like that.”

“So that’s why you were always dyeing your hair different colors and asking Dad to move all the time,” Morgan said. “Now this is all starting to make sense. I always wondered why you seemed scared of something and not totally happy.”

“Yes,” Nancy said, staring at the table. “We’ve moved more times than I care to count. But the last few years I’ve stayed in the Philly area within close reach of Martha.”

Mr. Chambers finished his water and set the bottle on the table. “Nancy, we’ve all met Jacy, and he really is sincere. He has a lovely place in Gatlinburg, and he’s married a wonderful Christian woman. Both are involved in a local church. Christ has changed his life. The only reason he wants to see you again is to ask you to forgive him.”

“Mother,” Skye pleaded with Nancy. “Won’t you please meet with him? For me?”

“I’ll think on it,” Nancy said unconvincingly. “That’s all I can do right now. I’ll think on it.”

During a ham salad picnic that extended well into the afternoon, the Chambers’ family and Nancy shared their lives. Skye looked at dozens of pictures of Nancy’s three other children and Morgan in her younger days. In return, Skye told her mother everything she could remember about her last eleven years, including the bad foster homes as well as the good ones. Morgan, having come to grips with the fact that Nancy was her stepmother, joined in wholeheartedly. When Millie’s name came up, the girls recounted their trip down south, how they met Millie, and the plans that Millie had made to come to Pennsylvania over the Labor Day weekend.

“Mother,” Skye said, “why don’t you and the kids come to Keystone Stables the same weekend?”

“Yeah,” Morgan added. “We have enough bedrooms for all of you, don’t we, Mrs. C.?”

“Sure,” Mrs. Chambers said. “We have lots of room.”

“Oh, I’d love to see Millie and the kids again. I plan to keep in touch with her on the phone, but my heart yearns to see her. And I’d love to spend some time with both you girls.”

“At Keystone, we have a picnic grove, and a campsite, and six horses and everything,” Skye said. “The kids
will have a blast. Dad, we could have a cookout at Piney Hollow, couldn’t we?”

“We sure can,” Mr. Chambers said, “that is, if it’s not raining.”

“What’s Piney Hollow?” Nancy asked.

Morgan’s freckled face lit up with her signature smile. “It’s a campground with a chuck wagon in the back section of Keystone Stables. The kids will love it. We can have roast hot dogs and marshmallows and have a scavenger hunt.”

“Well, that sounds wonderful,” Nancy said. “I can take a four-day weekend. The factory usually gives us a holiday on Labor Day anyway. I’ll take Friday off, too, and we’ll drive to Keystone Stables then. How does that sound?”

“Super!” Skye said then asked Morgan, “What do you think, Sis?” Skye glanced to her side and stared at Morgan in a whole new light.
Wow! She really is my sister, three times over: stepsister, foster sister, and sister in Christ.