Come Before Winter – Chapter Twenty-Three – the Undoing
December 23rd, 2021
2 Timothy 4:21, “Do your utmost to come before winter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – the UNDOING
In hindsight, Mercy would admit, while looking back on the weeks she spent sleeping in doorways and under bridges, for the life of her, she was unable to shake the dream. Even days after she had awoken with a start from it, it remained vivid and poignant. She could smell the freshness of cut grass and the fragrance of wind blowing through pine trees and ruffling the petals of wildflowers. She longed for a lamb, even a stuffed animal lamb, something she had never done; yearn for something she did not own. She knew there was a message in all the dreams she had, that it was significant and just for her, but she had no one to ask and no way to interpret the meaning of her dreams on her own. If only she could see Patsy, she remembered thinking; she’d give anything for a cup of coffee and a good cry and chat with her dear friend. Patsy could make sense of her dreams; she just knew it!
One thing became clear, however, and no matter how tenacious she was at trying to shove her guilt out of her mind, it now refused to budge. She needed to make things right with Gwen. Having put herself back together from coming undone, Mercy knew this was a splinter that had been festering for long enough. With all her heart, Mercy envisioned herself on a plane flying home, but she couldn’t leave some things shredded like they were. Did that include her mother, the lady trapped like a child in a room at Continuum? Mercy hadn’t a clue. But she at least needed to begin with Gwen.
So, as fate would have it—because Mercy didn’t understand one thing about the things God puts together for those He loves; all she knew were personifications called Fate and Karma and Lucky—Mercy found herself creeping in the Giver, as if she were up to no good. She would have crept right back out if Gwen hadn’t looked up immediately when the door jangled, a twisted look of surprise and joy intermingled on her face. Rushing Mercy, she threw her arms around her, air-kissing each cheek.
‘There’s my girl! Now, did you give me a scare! Girl, where have you been? Are you okay?’ The questions tumbled out like a waterfall of excitement.
‘Mmmm,’ Mercy mumbled, nodding her head vigorously. She would not let Gwen know her circumstances, but as the tears came, she realized she hadn’t thought about what would happen next. ‘Yes, ma’am, I am okay. Now,’ she sighed, a sigh bigger than she. ‘Gwen, I am so sorry…’ her words trailed away as she bit her lip, warding away the inevitable tears.
‘Oh, come right here,’ Gwen swiped at her own cheeks and enfolded Mercy in a hug. ‘Shhh, I shouldn’t have done things that way, surprised you like that. It wasn’t fair of me. I can be about as dense as a hunk of hickory. And about as useless. See, I didn’t know if you were who I thought you were, even though I suspected strongly. And you stepped right into my trap. No, Mercy, its me who needs to apologize.’
‘So, are you my mother’s sister? That woman was my mother, right? That means you’re my aunt.’ It really was all too incredulous to consume, rather one morsel of information at a time was all she could swallow. ‘All my life, I’ve never had any family and now, all of a sudden…’ again her words vanished.
‘Oh dear,’ Gwen sympathized. ‘It must be so very overwhelming for you. I have had years to process it, but you were given it all to digest right at once. Yes, Grace is your mother, although she is more the child and you the mother. And I am your Auntie and so fortunate to finally have you back in my life, Mercy! You were my Fancy Face. You were a loved and adored little girl and you have been missed! I want to answer all your questions, and help you to understand, and I even have questions of my own. But I want you to be able to process all of this as slowly or as quickly as is healthy and necessary for you. So, in the meantime, why don’t you come back to work for me for the holidays? I need a helper—your good help, actually is what I need—and maybe you need some spending money. And in the process, we can get to know each other all over again, and maybe you can know the sweet, sensitive spirit of the woman who gave you life. What do you say?’
Mercy couldn’t talk, the tears blotted her vision and clotted her words. The woman who gave her life…Like a dam had broken free and wiped out all the walls that held back the hope and hurt, the emotion and aloneness, the questions and fears, for all these years, and at once, it was all washed away. She nodded in spite of herself, then smiled shyly. ‘What time tomorrow?’ she asked, with a grin that ate her face.
Psalm 18:19, ‘He stood me in a wide-open field. I stood there saved, surprised to be loved!’ (MSG)
To Be Continued…
