Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (21 page)

“How did you—”

“You signed a consent form. So I could check things out when you left.” He leaned back in his seat. “I talked briefly with the social worker on the phone before we came in. I didn’t want to give you false hope if it didn’t pan out.” He stared at her. “It does.”

He handed it to her. “Do you want it? Do you want me to tell you?” He shrugged. “Do you want me to burn it?”

“No, no. I don’t know yet.” She turned away and then back again, wondering how a small manila folder could be so intimidating. “
This
is what I’ve been waiting for?” Gazing out the window, she wondered what she would gain by knowing any more.

“She’s alive and lives in town.”

Annie snapped her head his way. “My mother? Lives here?”

Rudy held up the file again.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Her eyes filled again, and she hated the feeling of being so out of control and this ending so horribly.
Lord, You’ve made me an outcast.

Annie woke with a jumble of thoughts. She couldn’t grasp the concept of seeing her mother while in the midst of pain. But that’s why she’d come, even though everything in her being was telling her she couldn’t do it. Would she have regrets? She wouldn’t have a second chance.

She pulled back the covers and went to Rudy’s desk. Staring at the file for the twentieth time, she wrote down the address to the place her mother lived. Rudy had said it was a college area, a boardinghouse, most likely. But could she truly face her mother, a woman who had given her away? Annie didn’t care what the circumstances were. She’d left her child out in an open field, and only by the grace of Gott had that child been found.

Annie stopped.
By the grace of Gott, I was found.

She cradled her head in her hand and let more tears flow. But she didn’t want to be comforted by Him right now.
Why did He let this happen? What a horrid way to come into the world.

She stood and went into the bathroom. Looking at her reflection, Annie noticed the bags under her eyes and her downturned lips, creating creases around her mouth. This whole experience had consumed her. She’d come here to justify the situation to her community, to find a woman who had made a mistake and was so glad to have Annie find her so she could repent and take her back.

A thought came into her head.
Gott didn’t have anything to do with you being Amish. Slash your wrists and rid yourself of that rapist’s blood.

She jerked her head up. “Satan, leave me,” she seethed through trembling lips, and then broke, slamming her back against the wall with face in hands and letting the cleansing drops fall from her eyes.

A bang on the door woke her for the second time that morning. She lifted herself off the cold tile bathroom floor.

“Annie, open up.” Rudy’s panicked voice resonated through the door.

She scrambled for the knob and turned. Rudy swung the door open wide and looked down. “Are you okay?” He reached for Annie and pulled her up to him. “What happened?”

“I just need to shower.” She took two steps to the faucet and turned the water on. She glanced over her shoulder. “I want to see her.”

Rudy moved toward the door. “All right. I’ll skip class and take you when you’re ready.”

She turned quickly. “No, don’t skip class.”

“It’s not a problem.” He held up a hand.

“Rudy, it’s okay. I want to go alone.”

 
Chapter Twenty-Two
 

A
FTER A TWO-BLOCK
walk from the bus drop-off, Annie had plenty of time to talk herself in and out of this meeting. Having such an awful experience happen to a person certainly meant they didn’t have a good life, probably before and after it happened. Did she really want to see her birth mother in such a state?

Her shoes hit the pavement with a
click, clack
as she walked down Timberlane Trail Road. Two more houses and she’d have to make a decision. She took in a breath when she got to a white house with green trim. If it’d had black trim, it would almost look like an Amish home, Annie noted with dry humor. The houses next to this one were similar in style but not in upkeep. Fences with chipped paint, neglected lawns, and clutter contrasted sharply. Those were obviously college renters and not owners.

Annie walked up the narrow path leading to the door and knocked once, a hesitant request for an answer. She glanced behind her at a young man hefting a very full backpack.

“Hey!” He opened the door in front of her. “You looking for a room?”

Annie was baffled. “Excuse me?”

“A room to rent. That is why you’re here, right?” He took a step in and gestured for her to, as well.

“No, I’m here to see Monica Taylor.” Using the name seemed strange. This was her blood, but she couldn’t roll the name off her tongue without it sounding foreign.

“Yeah, she owns the place.” He’d never stopped walking and went to the first room, which Annie assumed was the kitchen. He came back in and waved her over. “This is Ms. T.” He grabbed a handful of chips from a bowl on the table and left again.

A woman stood at the sink skinning carrots. Her brown hair revealed red streaks in the morning sun that shone through a large window in front of her. Her white apron showed stains of many colors, to which she added as she wiped her hands and turned to Annie. “And who might you be?”

Her eyes were Annie’s—almond-shaped with brown centers, surrounded with lily white. If this was her mother, she was not the type of person Annie had expected. “I’m looking for Ms. Taylor.”

“What can I do for you?” She picked up the end of her apron and wiped a hand, then let it drop.

Annie worried that her being there might bring back her mother’s trauma. She hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“You can look around the place if you want to see if it’s what you’re looking for.” Then she smiled, Annie’s smile.

“We might be related.” Annie fumbled for words. How could she put this in a way that would make it flow any easier? “You see, I’m looking for my mother.”

Ms. Taylor’s eyes widened. They stood silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Annie Beiler.” She waited. Was that enough?

Monica put a hand to her chest. “How old are you…Annie?”

“I’m eighteen. I’ve grown up in an Amish community a couple of hours from here.”

The older woman’s eyes clouded, and she swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

“I might be your daughter.” Annie paused, frozen except for her wavering gaze. “If this file is correct.” She held up the folder with a shaking hand.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Monica shook her head, as if she didn’t need proof. Maybe she could see the resemblance as Annie did.

“You answered the registry.”

“But I didn’t think this would happen.”

Annie thought about how close she had come to leaving. “Me either.”

Monica’s rosy cheeks went pale as she walked to the table. “Sit, please.”

Annie walked over in silence, not knowing what to say next. The sound of the chair scraping across the floor grated in her ears. “I didn’t think I’d find you.”

“I’m glad you did.” She looked down. “I didn’t want you to, not for all these long years. But when they gave me word you had registered, I knew it was a sign.”

“What kind of sign?”

“God. Telling me to give the information needed for you to come to me, if it was His will. It wasn’t for me to decide anymore.”

Annie couldn’t hold back her surprise. This woman wasn’t anything like she’d expected. It showed Annie how judgmental she was of people in the secular world. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“How I was conceived.”

Monica held her head evenly, as if to steady her thoughts. “Is it in that file?”

Annie nodded. “You gave consent for me to have access to the police information.”

“I didn’t know if you would still want to come if you knew.” Monica twined her fingers together and looked down at them. “The police got involved. There were witnesses.” Her face was blank, as if she had to numb herself to talk about it.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Annie didn’t know whether she really wanted the facts, to hear such a story. But a part of her wanted to know what her mother had been through to better understand why she would have made the choice she did.

“I was just out of high school, had two jobs to earn money for college. Walking home from work one night two men came out of nowhere.” Monica swallowed and averted her eyes. “It was horrible at first.”

Annie narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“But when I shut my eyes…squeezed them shut…I felt my lips move. I was praying. As if the Holy Spirit had taken over my tongue.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “The next thing I remember was one man standing over me and another with his back to me, walking away.”

“You think your prayer stopped them?”

“No.” The flicker of a sad smile crossed her face. “I just don’t remember.”

Annie let the quiet sound of her breathing settle her mind. The buzzing in her head had begun the moment she recognized this woman’s face as her own. Seeing the sadness in her eyes made Annie wish she’d never come. She felt selfish needing to hear this at the cost of the nightmare coming back to haunt this humble woman. “I shouldn’t have brought that anguish back to you.”

“It’s right that you know.” Monica winced as if in physical pain, and then looked up at Annie. “You have my eyes.”

Annie smiled. “I noticed that too.”

Monica tilted her head, her expression changing. “But you have his features as well.”

Annie twisted in her seat, as if she’d been shocked. Those ugly thoughts wasted no time.
You are tainted.

The tears rolled silently as she sat in that kitchen completely vulnerable. She had the eyes and faith of her mother, but the rest of her resembled a man of hate and vulgarity.

Monica placed a light touch on Annie’s knee. “Annie, I’ve forgiven those men, and look what God has done. He’s brought us together.”

The words burned into her chest as she heard them. She had been raised in a culture whose foundation was built on forgiveness, but it was Monica who was the one being merciful, not her. She was drowning in self-pity, while Monica had gone through a horrific situation and was pardoning the ones who damaged her.