“And so, you see, I didn't know what to do. I thought my hands were tied. Even behind bars, I didn't think I could talk to anyone, because if they believed me and let me out, he'd hate me even more than he did already. I'd been so conditioned to take his word as gospel truth, to obey his every command—to the point that I was willing to have an abortion to protect his reputation and career—to believe that everything he did was for our good. I'd spent my whole life trying to make him love me, but it was never enough."
Alice sat beside her daughter, holding her hand, and Cal stayed close by, offering his support with a touch, a pat, or the offer of a tissue. "And I was so afraid for my mother. I didn't want to expose her addictions because I knew he would somehow turn it into a way to make himself into a hero for standing by her through it. And I was afraid for her, too, if I did. What would happen to her if he abandoned her and I wasn't there to save her?"
"So you just kept quiet and took the blame for everything," Juliette said from her seat next to Phoebe. The two sisters sat so close that their shoulders pressed together, but Gia felt certain they'd intended it that way. Ren had moved her chair back from the table so she could nurse Charise. The baby girl had awakened in a temper so uncharacteristic of her it had made everyone laugh, a much-needed break from the heaviness of Angela's story.
"I was to blame, though," Angela corrected gently. "I could have told someone. I could have gotten Mom out of there. I could have packed us both up and gotten the heck out of Dodge. But I didn't, because all that seemed like it was too hard." She shook her head and made a small snorting sound. "Girl, I didn't know what hard was."
Gia's eyes widened at the way Angela's voice changed into something sharp, harsh, but laced more with regret than bitterness.
"No," she continued. "I took the easy way, the one that brought instant gratification." She lifted her gaze and looked directly at Juliette. "And you paid for it. Dearly. Every day of your lives." She looked at each sister, one at a time, as she spoke. "So did your grandparents. You, too, Mom." Even though she included Alice, it was pretty evident to Gia that the mother and daughter had already cleared the air between them, likely long, long ago.
"And so did you," Ren said, lifting Charise to her shoulder to burp her. Everyone nodded in agreement.
"But I'm the only one who really deserved to." She held up her hand when her mother started to protest. "Mom. It's over. It's done. You're well now, and that's what counts." So maybe it still wasn't completely resolved for Alice, but now that she had her daughter back, Gia felt certain it would happen.
"Can I ask you something?" Phoebe said, her eyes bright with moisture.
"Of course. Anything."
"What happened—what happened to your baby?"
Angela nodded and turned to her mother. "I miscarried because of the accident. I didn't know until after I'd been sentenced. And I was too afraid to ask anyone."
"They told me in the hospital, assuming I already knew," Alice explained, picking up the story now. "I had no idea her father already knew, so I kept it to myself until she was well enough to visit. When I told her about the miscarriage, she told me everything." Tears gathered in Alice's eyes as she recalled for them the agony of sitting across a table from each other, surrounded by strangers and guards, unable to hold her daughter while she wept for all that she'd done, for all those who'd suffered because of her decision. "But out of that horrible visit came my decision to walk away. From Jed—who is now a smarmy politician somewhere in Arizona near Tucson—from the alcohol, from the various medications I treated myself to. There was no way to undo what had happened, but I knew I had to take back my life so that I could give my daughter back hers when she came home to me."
"And The Ark?" Phoebe prodded. Gia knew where this was going. She knew what Phoebe wanted to hear. Just as she knew what Alice's answer would be already.
"The Ark. Yes. Because I want to provide a safe place for girls, for women, like Angela was, who need a place to go. Who will be loved unconditionally as they make some of the toughest decisions of their lives."
"Girls like me, too," Phoebe said, her voice just above a whisper. And then she shared her story with Angela and Alice and Cal. Cheryl, too.
It was at least another hour and perhaps a few too many cups of coffee before the sisters and baby Charise left the home of the people they'd bonded so intimately with, first in tragedy, and now in healing. Their hearts and minds were overflowing, and the ride back to Ren's was as subdued as the one that brought them to the Masters’, but for a different reason altogether.
"I feel a little like Mary, the mother of Jesus, must have felt," Phoebe said. "When she treasured the things she'd been told, and pondered them in her heart."
"Totally," Gia said, whispering so as not to disrupt the introspective mood of the women surrounding her. Even Charise sat quietly in her car seat, her eyes wide open as she stared out the window at the streetlights flashing by.
"I still have so many questions," Ren admitted from the driver's seat. "I feel a little like we've just opened a door to what we thought was a closet, but when we turned on the lights, we discovered a great hall full of treasures that might take us the rest of our lives to go through."
"And it feels okay, doesn't it?" Juliette asked. "I mean, I don't feel like I need all the answers today. I think it's okay, maybe even better, if they come a little at a time."
"I know I've kinda had my fill of revelations for now," Gia said, and then reached out to touch Cheryl's shoulder. "But I think more time might be the best thing for all of us. More time together, getting to know each other." She was speaking directly to Cheryl now, but she meant it for all of them.
"Me, too," Cheryl said. "Thank you for letting me come tonight. For including me in all of this. My heart is full to overflowing right now. I feel like I belong—" She broke off and glanced down at her hands in her lap.
"You do belong, Cheryl," Gia insisted, grabbing her sister's hand and squeezing it hard.
"You're one of us now whether you like it or not," Phoebe teased. "A Gustafson Girl by proxy."
"Absolutely," Ren agreed as she pulled her SUV into her driveway. She shut off the engine and turned to Juliette. "You know, there was a time when I thought you'd lost your marbles. That day you brought out that letter from Angela Clinton?"
Juliette laughed. "I remember. I was there."
"Yeah. Well, I'm sorry, Jules. I'm sorry for doubting you, for being angry at you for following your heart on this, for listening to the Holy Spirit the way you did. I'm so glad we had this night, and I don't know if it would have happened had you not opened the door for us. So thank you, big sister. You're my hero."
A collective sigh peppered with words of agreement filled the interior of the car before they disembarked.
As Gia climbed out of her seat, her phone slid from the pocket of the black jeans she wore onto the seat cushion. She picked it up and saw a text notification.
And you are way more awesome than a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. You're even more awesome than a rainbow itself.