Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) (15 page)

M
akayla glanced at Robin
. They were at a stoplight and Robin took the opportunity to blow her nose and pat her face dry. It didn't do much good though. By the time the light turned green, her face was wet with tears again. A few moments later, they turned in to the New Life Tabernacle parking lot and Robin turned off the engine.

Neither had spoken much since they’d left the radio station. Robin couldn't seem to do more than thank God and start crying each time she looked over at Makayla. Makayla was more than able to speak, she just wasn't sure she wanted to.

She'd imagined numerous ways Robin would reject her when the truth came out. What she’d never imagined was this. And now that she'd experienced it, she didn't want to ruin it by telling Robin what she and Bree had done.

Maybe she didn't have to. At least, not yet. Maybe she could convince Robin not to go back on the show. That would give them some time. Time to know each other better. Time to get closer. And once the relationship was less fragile, she would tell her everything.

It wasn't that she wanted to go on lying to Robin, it was that she was too terrified to do any more damage than she'd already done. Yes, Robin was happy she’d found her, but how long would that last when she learned the innocent baby girl she left had turned into a scheming manipulator?

Makayla didn't have any experience in the mommy-daughter department, but she was certain even a mother’s love had its limits.

"Oh!”

Robin's abrupt exclamation snatched Makayla from her thoughts.

"Daddy! I have to call him, too. We’ll go there right after this, okay?"

“You think Mr. Jones will be okay with it? I mean, me being here?”

"Of course. Once he knows, he'll probably try to get you to move in with him!” Robin laughed and patted away the wetness on her cheekbones. “Just remember, I asked first."

She put her hand on Makayla's cheek as fresh tears sprung to her eyes. "God is so good," she whispered.

For once, Makayla felt inclined to say, Amen.

Robin looked past her and out the passenger side window and smiled. Makayla turned to see a black car with tinted windows pull in to a parking space a few feet away.

Robin unlocked the car doors. "Come on. He's been looking for you so long, I don't want him to have to wait another second.”

Makayla opened the door and got out of the car. She watched as a man got out of the backseat of the black car, staring at her as if she would vanish should he blink.

He was tall and could have been described as a life-size teddy bear. His face was kind and for some reason, familiar.

He walked up to Makayla, shaking his head. His hand covered his mouth and he appeared dazed. When he looked at Robin, he laughed out loud.

"I can hardly believe it!"

Robin nodded, too emotional to speak.

He looked back at Makayla, taking in every part of her face.

"You look just like her.”

Makayla held out her hand. “I’m Makayla Dawson."

He smiled and took her hand into both of his. "I'm Marcus Thomas, Jr. And I've been dreaming of this day
your
whole life."

W
hen they entered
the sanctuary of New Life Tabernacle, only the lights over the podium were on, casting most of the space in shadow. They sat in one of the back pews, Robin on one side of Makayla, Marcus on the other.

Neither could stop staring at her. Ordinarily, having her every word and movement watched so closely would've made Makayla uncomfortable. But at that moment, under those circumstances, it made her feel wanted and safe.

"How did you find us? How did you even know where to look?"

The excitement in Robin's voice, her mannerisms and even her energy, reminded Makayla of a happy little hummingbird.

"The pendant you left. It had your name. And grandma knew your grandmother from back in the day when she went to New Life. She always assumed that's why you came to her. After I got here, I just started asking around, putting pieces together from what I heard and…”

Makayla wondered if she’d made a mistake. The unreadable expressions on Robin and Marcus's faces led her to believe so. She looked from one to the other.

"What?"

Though Robin opened her mouth to speak, no words came. Instead, the overflow of tears gathered at her bottom lashes began to fall. Marcus gently touched Makayla on the shoulder. She turned to him.

"What all do you know about your mother, sweetheart? What have you been told?"

Makayla looked at Robin. Something had changed, but Makayla couldn't figure out what.

"My grandmother said she came home from the corner store one afternoon. You were sitting on the porch, your eyes red and swollen from crying. You said your grandmother had died. That something terrible had happened and you had nowhere to go. It was a couple of months before you started showing and…" Makayla couldn't look Robin in the eye when she said the next part. "That's when my grandmother realized the something terrible, was me."

Out of the corner of her eye, Makayla saw Robin’s hand cover her mouth.

"She said at first, you were always sad, but with each day, you seemed to get a little better. You helped around the house, took in sewing, some laundry, paid your way.

"She thought it would work out. She was grateful to have help and looked forward to a baby in the house. But the night you came home from the hospital, the sadness came back, too. The next morning, she made you breakfast, but you hardly touched it. She said she went to the bathroom and when she came back, you were gone."

Tears streamed down Robin's cheeks and over her hand. Marcus stared at the floor. The pain caused by the memories was palpable. Not just for Makayla but, obviously, for them, too. She wanted nothing more than to stop it, for Robin, especially. But she needed to say one more thing first.

“Whatever happened doesn’t matter anymore. I was stupid to blame you like I did, to try to get you back for all the stuff I went through. I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. Especially after I got to know you. I thought you just didn't care. I thought you dumped me so you could live your life without worrying about a kid. But then Trey told me about how sad you’d get every fall and then, after lunch Thursday… I messed up. I messed up so much. I'm really, really sorry.”

When Makayla's voice broke, Robin grabbed her and held her tight.

Makayla didn't know how she'd ever thought she hated Robin. It wasn't possible. She knew it every time she held her. She was what Makayla had wanted her entire life and being with her was a thousand times better than any dream she'd ever had.

With a voice brimming with heartache, Robin whispered, “Oh, Makayla… I love you so much."

Of course, she did. Makayla finally understood that. What she didn't understand was the sadness that filled Robin's eyes as she said it.

"I love you, too."

"I…" Robin looked down. "I'm…" She took a deep breath and sat back in the pew. She took Makayla's wrists and drew them to her. Then she grasped her hands and held on as if their lives depended on it. As if letting go meant one of them would slip away and be lost forever. Then she closed her eyes and breathed, "Jesus, help us."

A few moments passed and Marcus said, "Robin?"

Robin opened her eyes and she and Makayla looked at him.

Makayla didn't know what was going on between them, but it was obvious there was a silent conversation being had. From what she could tell, he wanted Robin to do something. Something Robin seemed unable or unwilling to do.

He tilted his head, as tears filled his eyes. "Robin," he said again. He nodded, but Robin, biting her lip, shook her head.

"You have to," he whispered.

Makayla looked from Marcus to Robin. "You have to what? What's going on?"

Robin stared at her and Makayla's intertwined hands and exhaled. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't know— I didn't realize…" Robin shut her eyes.

What could Robin be sorry about? Considering abortion? Makayla didn't care about that. Not anymore. And even if she did, it made no sense for Robin to bring it up now.

Makayla glanced over her shoulder at Marcus. His focus was fixed on Robin with an incredible intensity. Had Makayla been wrong about him? Maybe he wasn't the Junior on the pendant. Maybe he wasn't her father, at all. Did that mean…

Did that mean Makayla's earlier suspicions were correct? Did she only exist because someone had hurt her mother? If she went by Robin’s slumped posture and the pained expression on her face, it seemed likely.

She’d never seen Robin in such a state. She never would have wanted to. She seemed so…broken. Makayla wanted to make it better. But how? She squeezed Robin's hands.

"It's okay. Whatever it is. You don't have to say it. Not right now. I'm just happy we're together. It’s all I ever wanted. And it’s better than anything I’d ever hoped for."

Instead of making Robin feel better, Makayla's words seemed to make her feel worse.

“Oh baby…” A soft moan escaped Robin's lips as she put her hand on Makayla's face. Her words came out in broken sobs. "I would give anything for it to be true. But I'm not your mother."

M
akayla felt
a tingling sensation move throughout her body. When she tried to take a breath, she felt her lungs constrict.

Robin continued to caress her face. "I am so sorry, honey. If I’d had any idea who you were and that you didn't know, I would’ve explained it to you."

Makayla shook her head. What was there to explain? Robin was her mother. Of course, she was. Her name was Caroline and that's why she’d called herself Carrie. They favored each other. People said so. Makayla found the pamphlet in her room. Mr. Jones said Robin went away over twenty years ago. And even if Makayla didn't have that mountain of evidence to prove it, she knew—she
knew
—Robin was her mother.

"Why…" Makayla barely had enough air to make the word audible. "Why would you say that?" She pulled her hand out of Robin's. "Now? After everything? Why would you say something like that?"

Robin gasped for breath between her sobs. "I'm so sorry, Makayla."

She reached for Makayla's hand again, but Makayla moved away and grabbed Robin's phone off the seat between them. She turned on the screen and held the phone up so Robin could see the picture she'd made her wallpaper. The picture she’d sent Makayla. The one that’d made her leave the bus station and crash the interview at the radio station.

Robin took the phone and stared at the picture as if seeing it for the first time. Her face crumpled. "Oh God, I'm so sorry…”

Sorry? That was her response?
Sorry?

Makayla felt a torrent of emotion rise, then swirl about her chest. She couldn't tell if it was anger, desperation, or panic. She only knew it made it near impossible to breathe.

"No. Every fall. Every fall! That’s what Trey said. Every fall you would go into a depression and—“

"The letter."

Makayla turned to look at Marcus.

"The letter," he repeated. “That was when we got the letter. In November."

Makayla had had enough of his interruptions.

"Okay, look, I don't even know why you’re here. You don't have anything to do with this."

"Makayla," Robin whispered.

"Unless he's my father, he needs to leave. This is between you and me."

Robin exhaled and covered her face with her hands. She looked weary and ten years older than when they’d sat down. Makayla instantly regretted being so rude.

"Please," she said quietly. “I don't mean any disrespect. I don't. I'm just asking you to give us a minute so we can work this whole thing out."

But Marcus didn't move. Instead, he looked at Robin. And once again, Makayla couldn't help but feel the glance had meaning she couldn’t interpret.

Not getting any response from Robin, he returned his attention to Makayla. "Fine. I'll leave. After you hear this."

He pulled out his wallet and from it, took a worn and folded piece of paper. "This was sent to me many years ago. The girl who wrote it was Robin's cousin, and my fiancé. We called her Carrie.”

Makayla looked to Robin for explanation. Robin only stared down at her tightly clasped hands. Makayla turned back to Marcus and shook her head.
Robin
was Carrie. She had to be.

"One day Carrie disappeared. We didn't know what happened or where she’d gone. Had someone taken her? Did she run away? It didn't make sense. We tried to find her, but couldn't. We didn't know what to think. We just knew we couldn’t give up hope. Then this arrived."

He unfolded the paper. Makayla saw faded handwriting covered the length of the page.

"There's a lot for us to explain to you, Makayla. So much you need to know. But the answers to your questions start here." He held up the letter. "Robin’s sadness, my twenty-year search, what happened to the Jones’ family all those years ago—it all started with this letter."

He cleared his throat and began to read.

T
he letter went
on to mention a pancake breakfast. Makayla realized it was the same breakfast Mr. Jones had pictures of.

According to the letter, Carrie had been sent to the church’s kitchen pantry to retrieve something. While she was in the darkened closet, the lights from the kitchen went off. She came out to see what had happened and was pushed back inside.

When the man had done what he’d come to do, he left her there, where she stayed for another thirty minutes, too stunned to move. Finally, she picked up her panties from the floor, put them back on and returned to the breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Makayla snatched the letter from Marcus. She couldn't stand to hear any more of Carrie's word spoken out loud. She thought if she read them silently, it would make them easier to digest. It didn't.

By the time Makayla finished reading the letter, her hands were trembling. She could feel Robin and Marcus watching her, but it didn't feel as it had before. Instead of care and safety, she felt an overwhelming need to hide.

"This is a suicide note."

Marcus nodded.

Makayla tried to swallow, but couldn’t. "So this girl—this girl that was raped and committed suicide—this girl is supposed to be my mother?"

Again, Marcus nodded. Robin might have too, but Makayla couldn't bring herself to look at her.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don’t cry.

"Baby…" Robin reached out to touch her wrist, but Makayla pulled away. The last thing she wanted was for Robin to be nice to her, to try to comfort her, especially after everything she'd done.

"I know it seems all bad now…"

Makayla held her breath and tried to block out whatever Robin was saying. It took all her effort not to cry. She couldn't. Not there. Not in front of them. She needed to get out. She needed to be alone.

Makayla shoved the worn-out piece of paper at Marcus.

"I have to go."

Before either one could stop her, Makayla leapt up and started for the door. She heard them scrambling after her, so she started running. She busted through the front doors of the church, the daylight temporarily blinding her. She had no clue where to go or what to do, so she just kept running.

"Makayla! Makayla, wait!"

Then, like an answered prayer, she heard the brakes of her old familiar bus screech to a stop around the corner. Running as hard as she could, she got there just before the doors closed.

As the bus crossed the intersection and passed the church, she saw them out front. Marcus moved toward the bus, as if to chase it down, but Robin held her hands up to stop him. When he tried to get around her, she grabbed him and wouldn’t let go.

She glanced over her shoulder at the bus and Makayla, where she sat and watched through the back window. Their eyes met.

And that's when Makayla knew. Out of all the things she’d said and done to hurt Robin, running away was the worst.

M
akayla remained
on the bus as it retraced its route. She didn’t know how much time passed, her mind was too cluttered with information to care.

Her father was a rapist.

Even though she’d suspected as much, she’d never let herself dwell on it. On him. He was a shadowy figure she’d shoved to the recesses of her mind. But now he had form. Now he was real. Now there was no denying it—he was a monster.

What did that make her?

She’d felt justified in paying back people that’d treated her like dirt, but what right did she ever have? Could she expect to be treated with any decency if that was how she came into the world? Did she have any right to expect anything at all?

Makayla pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, refusing to allow any tears to fall.

She thought about Carrie and tried to imagine what she looked like, but all she could envision was the picture of Robin at the pancake breakfast.

Makayla felt bad for Carrie, she truly did. But if she were honest, knowing what happened to Carrie wasn’t what tore her apart. It wasn't knowing what her father was. It wasn't even knowing Carrie took her own life.

What threatened to do her in was the truth that made her run for the bus in the first place: Robin wasn't her mother.

Makayla brought her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms. She felt so stupid. How could she have been so wrong? She never should’ve set foot in New Life. Or even Texas, for that matter. She needed to get away. Out of the city. Out of the state. She didn't belong there. She never had.

It was too late to use the bus ticket she’d bought that morning and she was strapped for cash, but she had to do something. She decided to use what little money she had left to buy a ticket to wherever she could afford. When she got where she was going, she’d find a shelter or a YMCA. That would have to do until she got a job.

Makayla sat up and leaned her head against the back of the seat. Getting out was the only thing that made sense. And the sooner, the better. But before she split, there was one person she needed to see.