Read The Long Ride Home Online
Authors: Marsha Hubler
S
kye pulled out a chair and sat at the dining room table. She was convinced that if she didn’t, her wobbly knees would land her flat on the floor. “Aunt Millie, go ahead,” Skye practically yelled. “Tell me what’s happening.”
In the kitchen, Mrs. Chambers and Morgan worked in silence, listening.
“Skye,” Millie said, “this is unbelievable. Your mom has wanted to contact you—and me—for years, but she didn’t know how to do that and still keep out of sight from Jacy. She’s not computer savvy, so several years ago, she had a friend go on the same website as you did, but she had plugged in her new name with some scanty information. And it must have been before you entered your information, so she didn’t find you. Of course, nothing ever came of it—until last week when she had someone check again and there you were. When had you put your information on that website?”
“Just a few weeks ago,” Skye said. “And after we met you, I entered you, too. You mean she found me on that search engine?”
“Yes,” Millie said. “Since you had entered my name, e-mail, and phone number as your contact, she called me. With my crazy schedule, she was trying for well over a week. When she finally did get through to me, she said she didn’t want to leave a message because she wanted to make sure this was all legit, and that Jacy wasn’t behind a big scam to track her down. Skye, when I told her how I met you in June, she almost went nuts. She said she lives every day with the torture of giving you up so long ago, and she’d give anything to see you.”
“Where does she live? When can I meet her?”
“Hold on now,” Millie said. “As much as she wants to see you, there are some conditions.”
“Conditions?” Skye couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “What do you mean?”
“Skye, I tried to explain to her how you found Jacy in Gatlinburg and how he’s turned his life around and how me and him have been in touch, but she’s still running scared. She still doesn’t want him to know where she is.”
“But he’s a Christian now,” Skye said. “He wants to make things right.”
“I told your mom that,” Millie said. “I even told her how he’s married again and he’s holding a steady job and all, but—well—she’s just not ready to accept it yet.”
“So what do I have to do to talk with her? To meet her?”
“Skye, she wants you to call her on her cell phone, but under no circumstances are you to give that number to your father. Do you understand?”
“Sure, but—”
“And one other thing,” Millie added. “When you do contact her, she wants you to call her ‘Rita.’ She’s not willing to tell us her new name or where she lives or anything like that yet. It’s unreal, but after all these years, she’s still pretty shook up over what happened between her and Jacy. It’s really too bad.”
“When can I call her?” Skye asked, her whole body quivering.
“She said the best time is after nine p.m. during any weekday. She didn’t tell me why, and I didn’t ask. She said I can call her anytime, too, so I plan to do that a lot. Maybe we can convince her that your father
is
a different man.”
“Did she say anything about whether she’s married or has other kids or anything like that?”
“Nope,” Millie said. “We talked for only a few minutes because she said she had an appointment or something. But she did say over and over again that she wants to talk to you. Do you have a paper to write down her number?”
“Wait a sec.” Skye pivoted to a counter and grabbed a notepad and pencil. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Now remember, Skye. Under no circumstances are you to give this number to your father. Rita made me promise within an inch of losing my hide that I wouldn’t tell Jacy she called me. I’m pretty sure she’ll do the same with you. She says she changes cell phone numbers almost as often as she changes clothes, and she threatened to do it again if she has any inkling that Jacy got a hold of this number.”
Skye said goodbye to Millie and waved the paper in the air as she rushed toward Mrs. Chambers. “Mom, I can call my mother! Millie gave me her phone number!”
“That’s wonderful, Skye.” While stirring a casserole bubbling in a large pan, Mrs. Chambers turned and smiled at Skye. “What are the
conditions
you were talking about?”
In silence, Morgan placed napkins and silverware on her lap, wheeled past Skye and started working on four place settings.
Skye moved out of Morgan’s way and rambled on. “My mother wants me to call her ‘Rita,’ so she knows it’s me calling her. No one else knows her by that name.
Aunt Millie said I’m not to even think about giving this number to Dad, and I’m to call
Rita
after nine p.m. any weekday. I have to wait two whole days!”
“That’s my girl,” Mrs. Chambers joked. “As patient as a new-born filly waiting for its first meal from its mother.”
Skye turned and looked at busy Morgan, who was still strangely silent. “Morgan, what do you think of this great news?”
“It’s great, Skye,” Morgan said as though she struggled to get it out. “Really great.”
Okay,
Skye told herself,
this has gone on long enough. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this
—
and now.
Parking her thoughts about her mother somewhere in the back of her brain, Skye concentrated on Morgan. Skye strolled to the sliding glass door and placed her hands on her hips. She drank in the beautiful scene before her: a red barn, six horses grazing in a pasture surrounded by a white fence, a crystal blue sky, and a gentle summer breeze. “Wow, will you look at this gorgeous day? Perfect for a ride.”
“Sure is,” Mrs. Chambers agreed.
“Morgan,” Skye said, “after supper why don’t we ride out to Piney Hollow? That is, if Mom doesn’t need us for anything around here.” She shifted her gaze to Mrs. Chambers.
“The evening’s yours,” Mrs. Chambers said, scooping the casserole into a large serving dish. “Tom and I have big plans. We’re going to catch up on some reading and bill paying. Later he wants to watch a ball game on TV. How exciting is that for two
old
folks on a Saturday night?” Mrs. Chambers laughed.
“Aw, Mom, you guys aren’t that ancient—but just about,” Skye kidded and then asked Morgan, “How about that ride, Sis?”
“Sure.” Morgan giggled. “Blaze and I would love to double date with you and Champ.”
“Well then it’s settled.” Mrs. Chambers placed the casserole in the center of the table. “After we clean up the dishes, you girls may go riding off into the sunset. Now, Skye, would you please go call the man of the house? Supper’s ready.”
“Sure.” Skye headed toward the basement door.
“And I’ll get the lemonade.” Morgan wheeled toward the refrigerator.
“It’s a great day to go riding off into the sunset,” Skye said as she opened the basement door and headed down the stairs, “with my best bud and my favorite horse.”
With a little more than two hours of perfect daylight left, Skye and Morgan rode their horses through the woods to Piney Hollow.
Riding side by side on the dirt road, the girls talked about everything and anything, about boys, about their trip south, about the upcoming school year, and then about their families. Skye figured the timing was perfect to ask Morgan about her feelings and what seemed to be bugging her.
“Morgan, I’ve noticed that you’re always wound up in a tight little ball whenever I talk about my real family,” Skye said. “I thought we had that all settled. I told you I’m not leaving my home here. As far as I’m concerned, you are my sister with a capital ‘S’ and you always will be.”
The usually bubbly Morgan said nothing. For several moments, only squeaking saddles, chirping birds, and a buzzing fly filled the silent void.
“Morgan,” Skye pleaded, “this isn’t your style. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been on top of things, encouraging me. You’ve always been like a light bulb in a pitch-black room to everyone who knows you. What gives?” She noticed tears rolling down Morgan’s cheeks.
Morgan quickly brushed them away, almost as though she was embarrassed that anyone would ever see her cry.
Skye didn’t quite know what to say next.
Wow! Something’s really got her bugged. God, please help me with this one.
“Is it something I’ve done—or said?” Skye asked. “Please tell—”
“Skye, it’s nothing you’ve done,” Morgan said. “It’s me.”
“What do you mean?” Skye asked as the girls rode into the Piney Hollow campsite. Again, Morgan was silent.
For just a moment, Skye darted her glance from Morgan to the fantastic view that lay straight ahead, one of her favorite spots in the world.
The girls rode to the outdoor chapel and stopped not far from the cross. Since Morgan had no way of dismounting, Skye decided to stay on Champ as well. “Let’s just hang out here for a few minutes,” Skye said, turning Champ to face Morgan and Blaze. Skye chewed her lip and leaned her forearm on the saddle horn, contemplating what she could say to get Morgan to spill her guts.
“Skye,” Morgan finally said, “I’ve been watching you through this whole business with your parents, and I’ve discovered something about myself that I don’t like very much.”
“Oh?” Skye said. “What’s that?”
“Well…” Morgan wiped her eyes and gave Skye one of those radiant smiles that had been scarce for most of the summer. “…I think I’m angry at my parents for abandoning me. I never admitted it before, but I think I am.”
“You? Angry at anyone? That’s a joke,” Skye said.
“No, really. I’ve noticed how anxious you are to know your parents, even after everything that’s happened to you, and I’ve been checking my attitude, and it’s not even miles close to yours. I haven’t always cared whether or not I saw my mom or dad. And yet, deep down in my heart, I miss them and want to be with them. I think
God’s been trying to get my attention through you. I really haven’t done anything to try and keep in touch with my mom—or to find my dad, and lately I feel terrible about the whole thing.”
“But you’ve always told me that your dad went to California and has never contacted you since he left. I remember you telling me how hard it is to get hold of your mom. Doesn’t she move a lot? And she doesn’t exactly call you every week either.”
“I’ve been losing some sleep over that lately, too,” Morgan said. “She moves so much I can’t keep track of where she is, but she always stays within earshot of my Aunt Martha in Philly. Sometimes it seems to me that Mom’s running from something. And as far as her keeping in touch with me—well—maybe it’s because of the way I treat her that she doesn’t come around more often. I always figured she had three other kids and she didn’t want me, so I just kinda dropped her like a hot potato. All I ever needed to do was call Aunt Martha if I really wanted to keep in touch with Mom. I’m sure Mom has sensed how I’ve felt. I think God’s not too happy at all about my real-family situation.”
“But didn’t you just tell us that you plugged your dad’s name into that locator website?”
“Skye, that’s the first time I ever did anything to try to track him down. Lately, I just feel horrible about everything.”
Skye thought for a moment and then asked, “Well, why didn’t you say something before about all of this? I mean, I thought you were always one happy camper here. No pun intended.”
“Double duh!” Morgan poked her index finger in her cheek and made a face at Skye. “It’s easy to push something to the back burner when you really want to. But with you and your parents being the hot topic in every discussion lately, the real-family blues came crashing
down on top of me and started staring me right between the eyes. I haven’t been able to get Mom or Dad out of my mind for weeks now.”
“Morgan, what’s your mom like?”
“She’s kinda roly-poly, and she has dark hair, that is, when she’s not bleaching it blonde or red. When we get back to the house, I’ll show you a few pictures of her that I stashed away in my room. All I ever remember her doing was washing clothes and cooking for us four kids. She never laughed much, I guess, because she was always so busy with the housework and everything. I did what I could to help with the three younger kids, but how much can a twelve-year-old do in a wheelchair? When Dad left Mom had to get a job, so we kids went to stay with Aunt Martha some evenings and Saturdays. When Mom found out that Dad wasn’t going to send any child support, she had to do something to get me help. That’s when she gave me the choice to go to a facility or go into foster care.”
“That must have been awful.”
“It was. I kinda understood about Mom and how hard everything was for her, but I still felt abandoned.” She sniffed back a tear. “I mean, I can’t even begin to tell you how bad it hurt. You hear people talk about broken hearts, but it felt just like that, you know? Like a knife in my chest.”
“Why didn’t you live with your aunt?”
“Aunt Martha?” Morgan sneered. “If you knew
gorgeous blonde
Aunt Martha, you wouldn’t even ask. She’s never been married and has a big fancy job as a hotshot publicist with the Coilco Oil Company. She travels all the time. She could hardly handle the times we hung out at her place for a few hours while Mom worked. There’s no way she’d get pinned down with someone like me.”
“What’s your dad like?” Skye asked.
“The last time I saw him he was built a lot like Mr. C. Dad had always shaved his head because he was losing his
hair, and he said he hated his receding hairline. He was never around much when he lived at home with Mom and us kids. He was either working two jobs or hanging out at the bowling alley or golf club.”
“Does he have red hair?”
“No, his hair was brown—when he had some. He said my red hair came from one of the grandparents, but I’m not sure which one. Skye, the more I think about my parents, the more I miss them.” Once again, Morgan’s eyes grew red and moist.
“Remember what Dad—ah, Dad Chambers—said the other night in devotions about God being in all of this?”
“Yep.”
“And remember that God knows how you feel, and he’s going to help you.”
“Sure, I know that,” Morgan said. “I’ve asked him to forgive me, and I really do want to touch base with my folks again. I really do.”
“Don’t you think God knows that?” Skye bobbed on Champ’s back as he stomped away a fly. “As long as we do what’s right, God will do the rest.”