“He knows.” The magnitude of it weighed on her and pushed the tears from her soul. “What do I do?”
Pawpaw pulled her into his arms, one of the few places she’d ever found solace and comfort. “You do what you have to do, and I’ll be here by your side every step of the way.”
He could have told herI told you sooryou knew this would come one daybut that wasn’t Pawpaw’s way. He’d never agreed with her decision to keep Cecily’s father a secret—believed honesty was the best policy—but despite his opposition, he’d always supported Serena.
Calmed down, she backed away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “He wants to meet in an hour at Franco’s. Actually, he told me, didn’t give me much of a choice.”
“Be honest with him. No one can undo the past but help him understand why you made your choices. That’s all you can do.”
“What if he wants custody?”
In his logical way, Pawpaw looked her in the eyes. “He has a right his child, sha. Now that he knows, you’ll have to let him in.”
“Even if it’s not in Cecily’s best interest?” She was grasping at straws. Would Cecily hate her when she found out the truth? For all her life, she’d dealt with the lemons thrown at her, but she couldn’t handle her daughter hating her.
“Look into your heart and you’ll know.” He cupped her shoulder. “Have you prayed?”
She ran her tongue over her lips. “You know God and I aren’t on good terms.”
“Maybe it’s time to change that.”
Avoiding his suggestions, she changed the topic. “Do you mind if we leave a little later to get our tree?”
He shook his head. “Take care of this. The tree will wait.”
“I don’t think it can be settled in a day.” Her temples throbbed and she massaged them.
“Likely not, but you have to start somewhere.”
Deep in her heart, she knew this day would come, especially when she chose to move home. A part of her wondered if, subconsciously, she wanted this day to come to she could stop hiding. Keeping secrets stripped a person’s energy.
She retreated to her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Perhaps Pawpaw was right. He usually was. But how did she find her way to God after living with her dad, an overbearing preacher who pronounced mortal judgement on anyone and everyone. No one could ever measure up to his impossible standards, and forgiveness wasn’t issued. Those final months of his life couldn’t undo the damage he’d inflicted over the years.
Confusion swirled around her, and she second-guessed every decision she’d made in her adult life. How different would life had been if Mom and Mawmaw hadn’t been out that fateful day. It wasn’t until Mom passed that Dad had gone to the extremes with his beliefs, as though punishing the world for his wife’s death.
She wouldn’t deny responsibility for her actions, but would having her mom around have helped her make better choices? Would Mom have steered her into the right directions and disciplined her with gentle correction when she went off course instead of proclaiming harsh condemnation?
“I miss you, Mom.” Voicing the sentiment gave her peace. Mom had been gone twenty-two years, but Serena’s memories of her never faded. When all else failed, she at least had those.
Though out of practice, she kneeled by her bed like she had as a child to say her bedtime prayers. She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “Dear God, I’m not sure what to say, but I’m in a mess. Please help me through this, but most importantly, don’t let Cecily be hurt in the process.”
If she’d expected a big revelation, she’d have been disappointed. However, she did experience a small measure of relief from her anxiety—she no longer felt like she was hyperventilating. She stayed in the outfit she wore, a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized yellow t-shirt and ran a brush through her hair.
She left the house, wearing her favorite pair of shoes for the singular reason they wore like a cloud and she needed comfort wherever she could find it. Possible conversations played out in her mind, and she crafted responses to any questions Lucas might ask.
None of her answers sounded sufficient even to her ears.
If she could go back in time and make the same decisions, would she? She honestly didn’t know. She couldn’t even say she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant because Cecily was her life. She would never regret having her daughter, and that was the only definite she knew.
Chapter Seven
Lucas sat in his rental car at Franco’s. He’d waited almost a week to approach Serena, and she’d agreed to talk more readily than he’d expected.
He’d braced himself for a fight, had years’ worth of hate built up to spill on her. Yet when he’d seen Cecily, he couldn’t muster the anger he’d harbored. To his surprise, it had turned into a bittersweet combination of joy and regret.
No matter how he felt about the situation, his priority had to be his daughter. Funny how he loved her without ever meeting her. Nevertheless, she was his daughter and fatherly instincts filled him.
Hiding out in his car forever wasn’t an option. If he wanted answers, he’d have to get out. His dad used to tell him and his siblings, “Don’t ask questions if you’re not prepared for the answers.” Now he understood.
