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The Christmas Promise(38)

By:Donna VanLiere


“I’m really sorry,” he said. “Something’s happened to Carla and I just needed to know if Donovan was here.”

“Yes he is, but…”

“What’s wrong? Who is it?” Chaz heard another woman’s voice. She came and stood beside Miss Glory inside the darkened entry.

The chain lock fell, the door widened, and the second woman screamed the loudest, most hair-raising scream he’d ever heard.





Ten



A mother’s yearning feels the presence of the cherished child even in the degraded man.

—George Eliot



His hands were shoved inside his pockets just as I remembered seeing him as a child waiting for the school bus. His face was thinner and masked with stubble, but his father’s brown eyes peered out beneath the hood of the sweatshirt. I reached for him, trembling as I pulled him inside. “Matthew, my Matthew,” I said over and over, holding his arms so my knees wouldn’t buckle. “It’s you. It’s you.”

“Mom.” His voice was so small that I barely heard him. He cried as he held on to me and I wrapped my arms around him, weeping.

“It’s you, it’s you, it’s you,” I said, burying my face in his. I cupped my hands on his face and searched his eyes. “You’re home,” I said, my voice failing me. “You’re home.” I led him to the sofa. “Miriam, bring blankets.” She ran from the darkened room in slow motion but was back in an instant, and wrapped blankets around his shoulders.

Miriam flipped on a lamp beside Matthew; tears were on her face but she didn’t say anything. She helped take off his tennis shoes and socks, then wrapped his feet in a blanket. She draped blankets over his legs and then backed away and fell into a chair. I sat beside him, not fully comprehending what was happening, and touched Matt’s cheek to make sure he was real. “Every day I saw your face.” I choked on the words. “Every single day I prayed and prayed that you would come home.” My throat tightened and I squeaked out the words “my son, my baby.”

I threw my arms around his neck and we sobbed as we held each other. There was nothing pretty about it. There are no words to describe how much I had missed my son and the sound of his voice. Words were lodged somewhere in my mind but I couldn’t form them in my mouth. I just kept saying “I love you” over and over again. After years of hiding, my child was finally home.





When the haze started to settle Matthew began to shake and I clutched his hands to warm them. Miriam brought him a cup of hot coffee but it sloshed over the cup’s rim when he took it. He was embarrassed and ran his hands through his hair; they trembled as he rubbed his face.

“Miriam, there’s a bottle of wine above the stove. Could you bring that in so we can celebrate?”

“What you cook with? You want…”

“Above the stove,” I said, over her. “Please.” Miriam poured what wine was in the bottle into a glass and handed it to Matt. She looked at the bottle and then at me. There wasn’t enough to go around. She poured a small amount into the bottom of my glass and I cocked my head toward Matt. She glanced at me and then filled his glass again.

Matthew wouldn’t face me; he kept his head down, holding the empty glass between his knees. “After seven years this is all I have to give you, Mom.” He began to cry and I leaned over, wrapping my arms around him.

I put my hand on his face and looked into the brown eyes I had seen in my mind every day for the last seven years. “You are your father’s son. You look just like him.”

He shook his head. “I’m not the son you remember.” He leaned onto his knees. “I’m nothing like Dad.”

It was the first time he’d really grieved for his father, and huge tears streamed down onto his hands. Years of running and hiding and disgrace washed over him. “I’m sorry, Mom.” His voice was high-pitched and strained. “I hurt you and Dad so much. I thought it would be better somewhere else, but it never was.” Miriam tried to excuse herself more than once but I motioned for her to sit down. There were no secrets as far as I was concerned.





I called Dalton and Heddy as soon as I learned about Carla. Dalton was asleep and I found myself shouting into the phone to make him understand. I didn’t tell them everything, but I let them know that someone ended up at my house who had found Carla. They were going to go to the hospital to be with her right away.

In the early morning hours I learned that Matthew had been living just an hour north for the last two years. “You were so close,” I said over and over again. “So, so close.” When I discovered he’d moved here just three weeks earlier to take the job at Wilson’s I threw my hands on top of my head.