“Just remembering things from the past.” Grace regretted saying that when she saw the pain flicker in her aunt’s eyes.
“Nothing good, I imagine.” Aunt Elizabeth slipped her hands into her apron pockets as she looked away. “I’ve done many things I regret, Grace, and most have to do with you.” She let out her breath. “You were only seven when I brought you home with me. And I took out all my bitterness on you.”
“I can understand why.”
Aunt Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table and put her hand on Grace’s arm. “We need to talk about the past.”
“About my mother.”
“Yes, and your father.” She gave a gentle squeeze and lifted her hand away. “But the trouble didn’t start with them.”
After dinner, Aunt Elizabeth had to go to a deaconess meeting. Grace bathed Samuel in the kitchen sink and dressed him for bed, then held him close as he drank a bottle of warm milk while she prayed over him. She sang a favorite hymn softly and watched his eyelids grow heavier until he couldn’t hold them open anymore. Lowering him carefully into the playpen, she covered him with his favorite silky-edged blanket.
Filled with an aching tenderness, she sat on the edge of the twin bed and watched her son sleep. He looked so peaceful, so content. Her little boy had nothing to worry about because he trusted his mother. Lord, I want to be that trusting of You.
Nothing was happening the way she expected. Aunt Elizabeth wanted to talk about the past, but later—tonight when she got back, or tomorrow. Would she change her mind? Grace had questions to ask about the past, and she wanted to borrow some of her aunt’s courage in setting out for another place, a new beginning. Aunt Elizabeth had done it successfully, leaving family and friends in Memphis and moving all the way across the country. What had it taken to do that? Had Elizabeth Walker set off on a grand adventure, or had she run away?
Samuel shifted. Grace readjusted the blanket. She remembered her first night in this room, how terrified she’d been. Night after night, she’d hidden herself away, just wanting to feel safe, praying Mama would come for her and tell her it was all right to come out.
And then the angel had come and her fears had gone away. She felt the wonder of him, her precious secret that she’d shared with Roman. He knew demons existed. Did he believe God sent angels?
The garage door whirred. Aunt Elizabeth was home. Grace leaned over the playpen and put her hand gently on her son’s chest. “You’re safe in this room, Samuel. I had a friend who watched over me. God is watching over you, too.”
Grace went into the kitchen just as her aunt opened the side door from the garage. Aunt Elizabeth looked resigned. “I thought you might be up.”
“How did your meeting go?”
Aunt Elizabeth set her purse on the table and removed her coat. “We all have our job assignments. I’ll put my things away and then we can talk.”
“Should I fix tea?”
“That would be nice.” Coat draped over her arm, she picked up her purse. She stopped in the doorway and looked back. “Why don’t we both put on our pajamas? It might help to be comfortable while having our conversation.”
They sat in the living room in wing chairs facing each other across the coffee table, like girls at a slumber party, sipping tea and pretending to be adults. “Where do I start?” Aunt Elizabeth sounded weary, perplexed. “When you went away to college, Grace, I missed you. You probably won’t believe that, but the house felt empty.” She set her cup and saucer on the coffee table.
“I spent more time at the office, if you can believe that. I practically lived there. It was hard coming back to an empty house and knowing it was going to stay that way. I didn’t think you’d come home, even for holidays. I was alone again. I thought that was the way I wanted it. The thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking how Leanne would feel if she knew I’d treated you more like a ward of the court than my niece.” She met Grace’s look with difficulty. “Your mother would’ve been hurt and disappointed.”
“You took me in, Aunt Elizabeth. You didn’t leave me in foster care.” She would have been passed around, a few months here, a year there. Who knew what could have happened under those circumstances? Grace thought of Roman and the childhood he’d had.
“I have many regrets, Grace, but the biggest of all is not raising you with the love you so desperately needed. And deserved.”
Grace saw the cost of that confession and felt her heart softening. “I understood why you couldn’t love me. Every time you looked at me, you saw my father, and he—” She shook her head, unable to say the rest.