Hidden in the Heart (18 page)

“Speaking of hot dates, please tell me this is your brother.” Darcie flopped down beside her and waved a silver-framed photograph in Claire’s face.

Claire took the picture and ran a light finger across the glass. “I don’t have a brother.” A smile tugged at her lips.

Darcie slapped her forehead, her jaw dropping. “If that fine face is your husband then what in the name of all things holy are you doing up here in Maine, without him?”

“It’s complicated.” Claire put down the photo of James and poured two mugs of coffee, handing one to Darcie. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Darcie stretched out her long bare legs and picked at the frayed ends of the denim shorts she wore. “Grandma told me your mom died. And about your miscarriages. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Claire sipped, noting the way Darcie’s eyes misted over. She supposed anyone with kids would react the same way. “Everything changed so fast for me. Each time it happened I lost a little more hope. The last time was just too much. I blamed myself. Things went downhill from there. I was pretty messed up when I got here. I guess I’m lucky I survived at all.”

“But you did. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault, Claire. Sometimes these things just happen. You shouldn’t take on that kind of guilt.” Darcie squeezed Claire’s arm and gave a sympathetic smile.

Claire nodded, but the dull ache remained. She doubted it would ever go away
completely. “I guess you’re right. Coming here was good for me. Helped me put things in perspective. I was a mess for a long time. I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew I had to get out of Connecticut though. James and I reached the end of the road. I’m still not sure where we go from here.”

“You’re going to have to face him at some point.” Darcie bit into a cookie and set her steady gaze on Claire. “I don’t know what all went on between you, but I think you should at least try to work it out.”

Claire inhaled and clenched her fingers around the warm mug. Darcie was right. She needed to talk to James. She had to face the past in order to move on to the future. “How’d you get so smart?”

Darcie screwed up her nose. “I’m not so smart. I’ve just learned things the hard way.”

“I know what you mean.” Claire looked over at the dog crate. Chance was curled up on the soft sheepskin, sound asleep. “I’ll think about giving James a call.”

“
He
doesn’t have a brother does he?” Mischief shone from her friend’s eyes.

Claire smiled. “He’s got two. Actually his younger brother might find you interesting. Brian’s going into medicine, studying at Princeton.”

“Ooo, a doctor. Lovely.” Darcie munched another cookie and wiggled her toes. Bright cotton candy colored polish sparkled under the overhead light. Claire wondered how many shades of pink she owned. “Maybe if I find myself a suitable husband my dear mother will start talking to me again.”

Claire reached for anther cookie and raised an eyebrow. “Your mom doesn’t talk to you?” Or Mac and Jessie either, apparently.

“Nope. Hasn’t in years.” Darcie gazed across the room, a pained look on her face. “It’s a long story.”

“I love long stories.” Claire smiled. “I don’t have anywhere to go. If you want to talk
about it.”

Darcie grinned and swiveled on the couch, tucking her colt-like legs under her. “It’s not a pretty one.”

“I figured.” Claire poked her arm and gave a knowing smile. Darcie’s eyes were the exact shape of her own. It was the weirdest thing. “Speak. I command you.”

“Yes, oh Queen and giver of great clothes.” Darcie’s laughter petered out. “Well…let’s see. My parents divorced when I was ten. My dad moved to the west coast. My mother…she’s very career driven. Into politics and all that stuff. She worked a lot and I started getting into trouble. By the time I was thirteen I’d been kicked out of three schools.”

“And your mother didn’t understand your behavior?” Claire feigned shock.

“Hardly. Boarding school seemed to be the appropriate answer. My dad had remarried and they’d just had a kid. His new wife didn’t want a problem teenager on her hands. So off I went to the snottiest prep school they could afford. I got kicked out of that one too. I spent the summers with my mother, but we fought like banshees whenever we were together. When September rolled around, no way was I going back to another school, so I hit the streets.”

“You ran away? How old were you?” Claire’s mouth dried as she tried to imagine what Darcie might have experienced. She’d read stories like this, and none of them were good.

“Sixteen, almost seventeen by then.” Darcie pulled her fingers through her long brown hair and blew out a breath. “I did some awful things. Whatever they tell you about runaways and life on the streets, it’s worse. I don’t know how I made it through, honestly. I don’t remember a lot of what happened during that time. It’s probably better that way.”

“Why didn’t you just come here, to your grandparents?”

Darcie shrugged, a wan smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t really know them. We never visited. They never called. I always got a birthday card, and money at
Christmas, but I wasn’t even sure where they lived. My mom and them still don’t really speak. I have no idea why. Nobody will talk about it.”

“Poor Jessie,” Claire mused, remembering the sad look in the older woman’s eyes when she’d talked about her daughter. “So how did you end up here?”

“When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I didn’t have many options. My dad would have keeled over from the shock, and my mom…I wasn’t about to find out what she would do. So I figured I’d give my grandparents a shot. I looked them up, blubbered on for about a half hour and next thing I knew, they’d wired me money for bus fare to Bethel.”

“What happened with your mother? Surely they must have called her.”

Darcie glared into the empty fireplace. “They did. She drove up a few days after I got here. Told me what a loser I was, how ashamed she was of me for getting pregnant. There was quite a scene. Basically she told her parents to go to hell and take me with them.”

“She did not.” Claire refused to believe any mother would treat her daughter that way. But Darcie nodded, her face impassive.

“She did. It was pretty bad. I’ve never seen Grandma so upset.” Tears stood in her eyes. “My mother is a very bitter woman. Trouble is, I have no idea why. Grandpa and Grandma doted on her when she was growing up, so they tell me. I know things with my dad and her weren’t great when they were together, but still…”

“Jessie told me about your mom’s brother dying when he was little. Maybe your mother has some issues with that,” Claire suggested. “People have different ways of dealing with tragedy.”

“Maybe. But that really has nothing to do with how she treated me.” Darcie took the box of tissues Claire offered and blew her nose. “I don’t get how you could just turn your back on your own kid like that, you know? Now that I’m a mother, I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Jackson. He could murder a hundred people in cold blood and I’d still love
him.”

Claire smiled at the dramatic analogy. “I’ve wondered that too. How a mother could forget her own child. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about lately. I was adopted you know.”

“Really?” Darcie brightened at the change in topic. “Did you just find out?”

“No. I always knew. Can’t remember not knowing. But I’ve only recently decided to search. I need to know where I came from. I want to make sure there wasn’t some genetic abnormality I’m carrying that caused my miscarriages.”

That wasn’t her only reason for searching now.

The more Claire thought about her adoption, the more questions she had. Since considering it again, a new feeling sparked within, something she hadn’t felt before—a fierce longing to know the woman who gave birth to her. She could no longer deny it.

“I want to know who gave me life. I want to know why she didn’t keep me. I just want the truth.”

“Wow.” Darcie gave a long whistle. “Is that why you’re in Maine? Do you think she was from around here?”

“Might have been.” Chance gave a yip and Claire went to retrieve him. She sat down again, scratched his little head and took a moment to gather her thoughts. She wouldn’t tell Darcie the whole story. She wasn’t sure of anything yet, and there was no point in speculating.

“I’ll help you if you want. Whatever you need me to do.”

“Thanks.” Claire smiled, not in the least bit surprised. “But this is one journey I think I have to make alone.”

Darcie fell silent, gazing at Claire through thoughtful eyes. “As much as I complain about my mother and how nasty she is, I can’t imagine not knowing where I came from. Did you have an awful life?”

“No, not at all.” Claire couldn’t help laughing at Darcie’s forlorn expression. “Quite the opposite. My parents loved me very much. I sort of feel guilty for searching. Like I’m betraying them.”

Darcie shook her head. “You shouldn’t. Everyone deserves to know the truth about who they are.”

“I’m beginning to believe that,” Claire said quietly, sorrow infringing on her thoughts again. “But you know, as much as I want to find her, I don’t think it will change who I am. Who I used to be, and the person I’m becoming. Being here has helped me see that.”

“How so?”

“Well, I guess everything I went through, dealing with losing my mom, the miscarriages, my marriage falling apart, then getting through my addictions—it’s all made me stronger somehow. In a weird way I think it was meant to be.”

“God has a way of bringing it all together when we least expect it.” Darcie’s smile was warm and her eyes shone with sincerity.

The peaceful look on Darcie’s pretty face was something Claire didn’t understand. Maybe it wasn’t so much that she didn’t understand. Maybe it was more that she was afraid to. Mac and Jessie, even Rick, talked the same way. Their faith was like a beacon shining bright on a fog-filled night. Something to come home to.

Claire was beginning to long for a safe harbor.

“Why don’t you come to church with us on Sunday?” It was almost eerie the way Darcie could read her mind.

Claire rolled her eyes at the invitation. “Thanks, but I don’t do so well in churches. Too many boring hymns and hypocrites for my liking.”

Darcie’s laughter pealed around the room. “Oh, our church isn’t like that. Trust me. Come see for yourself. I dare you.” Challenge sparked from her eyes and laced her tone.

“You dare me, huh?” Claire wrinkled her nose but gave in to a grin. “All right, Darcie Hart. Maybe I will.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Ms. Hart? You have a call on line one.”

Michelle cursed under her breath at the interruption. She scratched out the last sentence she’d written, pushed the flashing button on the telephone keypad and glared at the stack of notes on her desk. “Who is it, Sharlene? I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed. Senator Harrison needs this speech as soon as possible.”

Silence. Were the phones on the blink again? Michelle tapped her fingernails on the mahogany desk and made a mental note to tell Sharlene to book her for a manicure. She could do with a whole day at the spa, but didn’t have time for that. “Sharlene, are you there? I don’t have all day. Who is it?”

“Um, Ms. Hart? She says she’s your…mother.”

Michelle felt all air leave her chest. After how many years? She sat back against her leather chair and closed her eyes. Impossible. She wouldn’t call here. Unless…

“Put her through.” Michelle’s heart raced but she took slow, controlled breaths. She could handle this. “Hello?”

“Shelly, is that you?”

She was rendered speechless at the sound of her mother’s voice. Memories and thoughts of home slammed her. She inhaled and scowled at the painting on the wall. The familiar scene served as her only reminder of the place she’d left so long ago. Left and
banished from her mind and heart.

The artist had captured the lake at sunrise, mist rising from the water. If she allowed it, the memory of that morning would return in an instant.

She should have packed it away with all the others—the painting and the memory.

“Shelly?”

“Of course it’s me. Is Dad okay?” A pause on the other end gave Michelle a chance to breathe and get her rambling thoughts under control.

“Yes. He’s fine.”

“And…you…you’re fine?”

“I’m doing okay.” Mom’s soft voice cracked and Michelle blinked, her pulse picking up again. If they were both in good health, then it had to be something else.

“Darcie? Is she…?” Michelle couldn’t voice her thoughts. Had it really been five years since her parents had taken on that wild child? Five years since Michelle had spoken to any of them?

Having to take a few weeks off work to deal with Darcie’s infraction back then had almost cost her her job. Michelle made her position clear—she’d send money, but she wanted out of the picture. Darcie was on a path bound for destruction at her own choosing. The pregnancy was the last straw. She washed her hands of her daughter and let her parents take over.

“Darcie and Jackson are fine too. This isn’t about them.” Her mother spoke quietly, quickly, as though she didn’t want to be overheard. “I’m sorry—I didn’t want to upset you by calling—but I…Michelle, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.” She almost let out a sigh of relief. They probably needed money. Tara’s Place had been falling apart the last time she’d seen it. Michelle grabbed the cordless phone and pushed herself out of her chair. She took slow steps across the room and stood at the long
window.

Madison Avenue teemed with activity, people coming and going, jostling for space on the crowded sidewalks. The tall trees spread out long branches thick with green leaves, providing shade under the blistering heat of a New York summer. “Can you hurry it up, Mother? I’m busy.”

“Michelle, what happened to the baby?”

The question roared in her ears even though her mother’s trembling voice barely cleared a whisper. Nausea rose in her throat. Michelle stumbled back to the desk and reached blindly for her chair.

It was a conspiracy.

God and the rest of the world were clearly out to get her.

“Michelle? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” The words raked her throat. She rested her elbows on the desk and leaned heavily into the receiver.