From that day forward, she insisted on being called the same, and Bebe fell to the wayside except by her immediate family, and now only mom. It held a special meaning, a promise between them that she’d always be her mom’s little girl.
Mom backed away at long last. “You’re home for good?”
She nodded. “For good.”
Dad slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Welcome home.”
Leaning into him, she inhaled the earthy scent of cologne he always wore, whether for church or work. The undertones of cedar and leather calmed her in a way only decades of familiarity should.
“Let’s move inside.” Mom’s hand trembled when she placed it on Trixie’s arm, as though afraid if she didn’t maintain contact, her daughter would leave again.
The gesture stabbed Trixie in the gut. She’d never wanted to hurt her mom. Not really. She’d simply been too young and immature to realize the consequences of her actions. Inching toward the back door of her sedan, she wondered that no one had noticed the car seat in the back, or heard Alice’s rambling gurgles.
But they weren’t in tune to her like Trixie was. They didn’t know of her existence to think to look for her. That was about to change.
“Wait.” She put a hand on the door. “There’s someone you need to meet first.”
She turned from their stares of curious confusion to open the door. Rather than removing the car seat, she unbuckled Alice and lifted her out. She wasn’t proud of her actions leading to the conception of her daughter, but she was over the shame. She’d never again hide her, ever.
“Mom, Dad, meet your granddaughter, Alice.”
Shock registered on their faces and the world around them went eerily quiet. What felt like hours passed, but in reality, it was only seconds.
Phoebe stepped forward first with outstretched arms. “May I hold her?”
Trixie handed her over, watching the first interactions between aunt and niece. Unperturbed, Alice continued to smile, only caring that someone held her and showed her affection. One by one, the rest of them recovered from their surprise and sought a turn to hold the newest member of the Graff family.
Mom turned into a mother hen with a glowing face. “We should get her inside. It’s too cold for her little body out here.” She turned to her husband. “Ray, can you bring in Trixie’s bags, please?”
Dad winked at his daughters. “Of course, darling.”
Knowing Alice was in capable hands, Trixie stayed back for a minute alone with her dad. She didn’t think it possible to have any more tears left in her, but her eyes washed over again when she took a good look at him and realized he’d aged a decade in the year she’d been gone. His once brown hair had turned almost entirely to grey, and crow’s feet cornered his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Her bottom lip trembled. “For everything.”
He laid a hand on her cheek and issued her a gentle smile. “You’re here now. We’ll sort through it all in time.”
Chapter Three
Elijah’s ears burned. He loved this group of teens, but quiet wasn’t within their capabilities, especially the crew chosen to perform in the church’s nativity play. Chaos reigned, and he searched the sanctuary for Mrs. Graff, his able and willing volunteer. He’d heard something about her daughter returning to town, and he prayed that wouldn’t affect her decision to work on the nativity.
Pride wouldn’t let him admit it to anyone else, but he’d gotten in over his head with this project. He’d never been on a drama team, and while the concept seemed easy—angels appear to Mary and Joseph, they go to Bethlehem, Jesus is born, angels appear to shepherds, said shepherds come visit, then wise men—the production was deceptively complicated.
He stuck his pinky fingers on the corners of his mouth and whistled. “Everybody quiet.”
A hush fell over the young group, but only for a second. Too excited over the upcoming holiday and school break, the boys and girls had lost all semblance of self-control.
“Now,” he bellowed.
Unaccustomed to his harsh tone, the group quieted and stayed so this time.
He pointed to the Advent calendar at the sanctuary’s entrance. “We only have two weeks to get this show together, and we’re no closer than when we began practices a month ago. I know you’re all excited, I get it, but we have to focus, understand?”
Nods and murmurs met him.
“Has anyone seen Mrs. Graff?” When heads shook and no one could say they’d seen her, he stretched his neck, trying to steal a glimpse of the parking lot through the window. Maybe she was running late. “We’ll have to start without her.”
He separated the group, sending the angels to the side room, shepherds to the lobby, wise men to the baptistry room. Something wasn’t right. “Where are Mary and Joseph?”
