| |
Scottlyn crawled out of bed on Sunday morning, exhausted from a restless night and heavy-hearted over her fight with Grant. She dressed for church on autopilot, the questions of the previous night still ringing in her heart. The coffee she hoped would jump start her day never even made it to her lips before Mercie scrambled into her booster seat at the kitchen table.
She gave her mom a dazzling smile. "Mommy, my tummy is bery, bery hungry. Can I have my cereal now?"
"Good morning, baby." Scottlyn put the cup aside and opened the pantry. She reached for the box of the chocolate flavored rice cereal the three-year-old loved so much. It was Mercie's Sunday morning treat and only allowed once a week. The weight of the box told Scottlyn that it was almost empty. Great. With everything going on this week, she'd forgotten to go to the store.
Mercie bounced in her seat. "Mommy."
"Just a minute." Scottlyn shuffled through boxes and found a box of plain rice cereal. Humm...maybe she'll be intrigued. She removed both boxes, poured up a bowl of the plain, mixed in the remains of the cocoa, and set it in front of her daughter.
The three-year-old's sunny disposition melted like ice cream on a hot day. She looked at Scottlyn.
Scottlyn offered her a weak smile. "It's polka dot crispies."
"My tummy needs Choco Crispies."
Scottlyn drew in a calming breath. She pointed to the stingy brown specks floating in the milk. "There they are."
Mercie's bottom lip came out in a pout. "Yuck!" She pushed the bowl away. Milk slopped over the edge, puddled on the table, and dripped onto the floor." She jutted out her bottom lip and stared at her mother. "Choco Crispies."
Scottlyn put her hands on her hips and looked at the mess. "Mercie Delynn Rich. That is more than enough. You will eat what I—"
"Good morning, ladies." Diana breezed into the kitchen. She put an arm around Scottlyn and peered into Mercie's bowl. "My goodness. Where did you get leopard flavored cereal?"
Mercie crossed her arms, but her frown eased a bit as she studied the contents of the bowl. "Leopard?"
"Oh, yes. I think that's what people eat when they go on safari to hunt leopards. Do you know what a leopard is?"
Mercie shook her head.
Diana picked up the spoon and held it out to the three-year-old. "You clean your bowl, and we'll go look them up on my computer when you're done. While you do that, Mommy and I are going to go have a visit in the living room."
"OK!" Mercie grabbed the spoon and attacked her breakfast with fresh gusto.
Diana hooked an arm through Scottlyn's and led her into the next room. She motioned to the sofa and took a seat once Scottlyn sat. "What's up with you?"
Scottlyn rubbed at her temples and the headache that pounded there. "She sloshed milk all over the floor."
"Honey, she's three. Mess-making is what three-year-olds do best." Diana raised a hand to stem Scottlyn's objections. "And I get it that she was acting out in the process...that's the second best thing that three-year-olds do. But it's the first time I've ever seen you that close to losing your temper with her. What gives?"
Scottlyn leaned her head back against the sofa cushions, weary to the bone. "Grant and I had a huge fight last night. I said some horrible things, and he left mad." She crossed her arms over her eyes. "I didn't get any sleep." Her voice cracked. "And then we were out of Choco Crispies."
"The straw that broke the camel's back."
"Something like that."
"You want to talk about the fight?"
Scottlyn sat up and swiped at her eyes. "He hates my mom."
"Oh, sweetheart, no he doesn't."
"Diana, he does." She shoved herself up and paced in front of the sofa. "You haven't seen them together. He's gruff when he speaks to her. He questions everything she says or does. Now, he's questioning everything I do for her." She turned to face the only mother she'd ever known until two days ago. "I thought he loved me, but if he can't accept my mother..." She finger combed her hair from her face. "What am I supposed to do? I love them both."
"If you can stand there and honestly say you have doubts about how Grant feels about you, you need more than a good night's sleep." Diana took a deep breath. "Do you want my honest opinion?"
Scottlyn nodded.
"You've had a week that would knock anyone back a few steps. Grief, excitement, and everything in between. If you weren't feeling a little off center, I'd be worried about you more than I already am. You never had the chance to know your mother, and all at once, here she is. You're excited about a future that includes her. You have every right to those feelings, but...love? I don't think so."
"Diana..."
"Hear me out and be honest with yourself. Do you love Jocelyn Rich, or do you love what Jocelyn Rich represents? The person, or the idea of having a mother? When you can sort that out for yourself, you'll get a better feel for where Grant...and I...stand in all of this."
Scottlyn sat down. "What do you mean?"
"Grant and I both love you. We both want to protect you. Because of that, we'll both be a bit more cautious than you. And that's a good thing. You need people looking out for you when you're too close to a situation to see it clearly."
"What's to see? She's my mother."
Diana tilted her head, and Scottlyn saw a hint of frost in her blue eyes. "And Gabe and Penny are Mercie's grandparents. A couple of years ago, when they suddenly decided that they were ready to be a part of Mercie's life, she would have accepted them without hesitation. But you didn't allow that right off. Why?"
Scottlyn raised her hands and dropped them to her sides. "Because I didn't know them, because they had done some despicable things, because they were in a position to hurt her like no one else could. They had to prove to me...that they were worthy of her...love."
Diana raised her eyebrows. "And there you have it."
***
SABOR'S FAITH TABERNACLE was packed with worshipers. The sanctuary echoed with enthusiastic praise and worship music. Scottlyn's gaze swept the crowd, looking for Grant. She frowned when she didn't see him. Fine, let him sit home and pout. I have better things to do.
Scottlyn lifted her hands and her face to heaven. Father, thank You. I've been so caught up in Daddy and the funeral, so heartbroken about losing him, that I haven't taken the time to thank You for the one good thing that came out of that. Thank you for giving my mother back to me. Her prayer barely made it out of her heart before the sense of foreboding that she'd experienced off and on all week returned to tie her stomach in knots. She rubbed at the spot where the agitation lodged. What's up with this nagging sense of...?
Before she could finish her thought, Pastor Robbins took his place behind the pulpit. He looked out over the crowd as the last notes of the worship music faded. "My, it's good to have everyone here this morning. If you're visiting with us today, I hope you'll find something here that makes you feel at home." He made a motion. "You can be seated." While the congregation took their seats, the old pastor took off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief. He settled them back into place and leaned across the pulpit on his forearms.
"How many of you have ever worked hard on a project for your boss, only to have him decide he wanted something different at the last moment?" He nodded as hands went up all over the building. "Good, then you'll know how I'm feeling today. I studied all week and had my sermon ready for today, and sometime in the night, God changed my mind." His eyes roamed from one side of the building to the other. "At times like this, I just have to trust His leading and believe that someone here this morning needs to hear what God laid on my heart."
He opened his Bible. "Today we're going to spend some time in Proverbs." He looked up and smiled. "You know, the Bible says that Solomon was the wisest man that ever lived. Far be it from me to disagree with the Good Book, but I'm not sure that title belongs to any man who gets involved with more than nine hundred women...at the same time." He paused until the laughter died down.
"We live in a world where honest people seem to be in the minority. Where people would rather cheat you out of a dollar than earn it honestly." He stopped and held up his cell phone. "I get at least four calls a week from people claiming to be from my credit card company, offering to lower my interest rate. All they need is some personal information to get started." He shook his head. "Problem is that I've spoken to all the companies that I have accounts with, and they've assured me that they will never call me with offers like this. As a result, I've started blocking the numbers, but they just keep coming up with new ones." He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"Deception isn't a new concept. In Ecclesiastes, Solomon assures us that there is nothing new under the sun. And he's right. We can trace fraud all the way back to the Old Testament. Jacob worked for seven years for his wife and woke up to find they'd slipped the older sister into his bed." He chuckled. "I've always wondered about that. I know they didn't have electricity in those tents, but they had candlelight.
"What I'm trying to do is make a case for wisdom in our daily lives. The second verse of the first chapter in Proverbs cautions us to 'know wisdom and instruction: to perceive the words of understanding.' We need to get better acquainted with the wisdom God promised to give to all who ask."
Scottlyn squirmed in her seat as the old preacher's words hit home and intensified the discomfort in her heart. She lost the rest of the sermon under the weight of uncertainty. Father, what am I missing? I know it has to do with Mom, but... She replayed the last two days in her memory. Yes, there had been a few moments of confusion, but they didn't know each other. Wasn't that to be expected?
Her heart cracked with the knowledge that she might have been more hasty than wise. Not that she didn't believe Jocelyn was her mother. Harold Cole had verified that, and the resemblance was too much to deny. But maybe Scottlyn could entertain the idea that Jocelyn's return was as conveniently timed as Grant claimed. Maybe things weren't as cut-and-dried as they appeared at first glance.
A tear streaked down her face, and she swiped it away.
From her place in the pew beside her, Diana laid a hand on her arm. "Scottlyn?"
Scottlyn shook her head and squeezed Diana's hand. "I'm OK." And she was. She planned to spend the rest of the day with her mother. She'd take the pastor's advice and be quietly attentive to everything her mother said, every expression on her face. Scottlyn would do this, because everything inside of her wanted to be able to cling to this relationship. Now that the questions had been raised, trying and failing to prove that her mother was a liar seemed like the only way to get that done.