Through His Grace (2 page)

No laundry for me!
By the time she got inside, the only items left were her camera, the rolls of film she’d shot, and the necklace the little girls had woven for her. It took less than five minutes to unpack.
Shower time!
Grace headed for the stairs.

Forty minutes later she emerged from the shower a new woman. She’d scrubbed, moisturized, washed, conditioned, and pumiced herself to a rosy pink glow. Every knot in her neck and back had unwound beneath the cascading heat, and now, wrapped in her fuzzy robe, Grace was ready to attack the mound of mail.
A surprising stack considering I only bought this place a month before I left for Guatemala…
.

Grace caught sight of her reflection in the hall mirror, her skin tone three shades darker than when she’d left, her hair a good two inches longer. She fingered it, wondering when she could get into Cut and Dried for a trim. She’d set up an appointment tomorrow. The blinking light on her answering machine captured her attention. Why? She had told everyone she would be unreachable. She’d paid her bills in advance— who would have called? Had something happened to one of her kids? The students she counseled at Lawton High were priority number one. She hit the play button.

“Honey, I’ve got some bad news. Yesterday, the day after you left for Guatemala, a tornado came through. Jake and Lizzie were at school and are fine, but Lisa and Jim were at home when it came. They…they didn’t make it to the cellar in time. They were found three miles south—” The voice of her best friend Mary broke before she continued. “They didn’t leave custody of the kids to anyone…no will at all, so Lizzie and Jake are going to live with their grandpa Carl…. I know how close you were. I’m sorry.”

Grace stood before the machine, frozen. Her cousin Jim and his wife, Lisa? But they were so young. Thirty-one…and the kids—were Lizzie and Jake being counseled? Carl was getting on in years. Could he handle having an eight-year-old girl and a six-year-old boy on his hands? Thoughts whirled through her mind as the machine beeped out a second message.

“This message is for Miss Grace Willard. This is Kate McNarty calling from child placement services.” An icy grip tightened around Grace’s heart as she listened. “Please call me back at…” She jotted down the number on a pad to call back immediately. Was this about one of her high school students or Lizzie and Jake?

The next three messages were from the same source. Something had to be terribly wrong.

After one offer for new windows, one for carpet cleaning, and three suggestions that she switch her long-distance carrier, Grace heard another familiar voice.

“Grace? Um…this is your uncle Carl.”
Uncle Carl? This can’t be good
. “I need your help. They’ve taken the kids away! I have to get them back. You’re a school counselor. You have to convince these people. Lizzie and Jake need me! Call me back.”
Beep
. The message ended before he gave her the number, and the next revealed the older man’s voice once more.

“I think I might’ve forgotten to leave my number. It’s 555-7778. Please call ASAP!”
Beep
.

“This is Carl again. I didn’t think about how we’ve got different area codes…no, wait…it’s the same one. Okay. ‘Bye.”

The rest of the messages contained the same jumble of telemarketers, recorded updates about changes being implemented for the Lawton High staff, pleas from Uncle Carl, and increasingly urgent calls from child services, as Kate McNarty gave Grace her office number, cell phone number, and even home phone.

Grace stared at the numbers on her pad of paper in astonishment. Jim and Lisa…gone. Lizzie and Jake placed with Uncle Carl. Carl said they’d been taken away. Child services was trying to reach her. Tears welled in her eyes at the loss, but she blinked them back. Later she would acknowledge her grief. For now she needed to find out where Lizzie and Jake were and how they were holding up.

She called Kate McNarty’s office number, left a message on voice mail then tried the cell phone. No luck. Taking a deep breath, Grace dialed her home number, praying as the phone rang that someone would pick up.

“Hello?” A pleasant voice answered.

“Hello, is this Kate McNarty?” Grace kept her voice as calm as possible.

“Yes, it is. With whom am I speaking?

“This is Grace Willard….”

“Grace Willard!” the woman exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for over two months!”

“I’ve been out of the country, working with natives at a Guatemalan orphanage,” Grace explained quickly.
When the people I love needed me right here at home
. Her heart constricted.

“That’s a good reason—charitable work. Helping children. That, combined with your status as a counselor—”

“How are Lizzie and Jake?” Grace interrupted. “Where are they now?”

“We have a shortage of foster families right now, so they’re at the Lawton Group Home,” Kate began.

She had driven right past them earlier. Grace put her head in her hands.

“They haven’t been placed yet. It’s difficult to find a home for siblings. Jake is young enough that he’d have a better chance of finding a semipermanent family without Lizzie. Separating them would—”

“Be unacceptable,” Grace cut in smoothly, tamping down the urge to yell over that last comment. She called upon every ounce of her past experience to maintain a professional tone.

“Of course, of course,” Kate agreed quickly. “It hasn’t come to that yet.”

“I understand they were initially placed with their grand-father?” Grace prodded. “Carl Willard?”

“Yes…they’ve been removed from his custody.”

“What happened?” Grace braced herself for the worst.

“As you know, the children were enrolled in a private school. Since their parents paid their tuition up-front and we didn’t want to change more of their daily lives than necessary, they continued attending. This school runs through June, so Mr. Willard was responsible for getting them to and from the campus each school day. Unfortunately on several occasions the children were not picked up.” Kate kept going as images of Lizzie and Eric standing forlornly in front of their school flashed before Grace’s eyes. “The long and short of the matter is, Mr. Willard is of an age where it is difficult to see after two children, and his forgetfulness makes him an unsuitable guardian.”

“When were they taken to the group home?” Grace could hardly argue with their reasons for removing the children from Uncle Carl’s care—or lack thereof.

“Six weeks ago. They’re adjusting as well as can be expected after so much upheaval and loss. They don’t cause trouble, are fairly polite…but Jake has withdrawn, and Lizzie refuses to leave him. They’ve had a few unpleasant scenes at bedtime when they’re separated into the girls’ and boys’ quarters.” Kate’s words sank like stones.

“I don’t blame them,” Grace interjected quietly. “It’s perfectly understandable. They’ve lost their parents, their home, been taken away from their grandfather. They only have each other to cling to. Until now.”

Grace grabbed her keys. “I’m coming to the Lawton Group Home. You have the papers ready for releasing them to me. I’ll be there in fifteen”—she glimpsed at herself in the hall mirror again, this time realizing she was in her bathrobe— “make that twenty-five minutes.”

She was tempted to throw her hair into a ponytail, toss on jeans and a sweatshirt, and hit the door running. Instead she pulled her still-damp mahogany locks into a black barrette and donned a basic-black day dress and low-heeled pumps. She knew that if she wanted to have the children released into her custody she’d have to look every inch the responsible adult. She grabbed her black bag from the closet, stuffed her wallet, keys, and a tube of lipstick inside, and was out the door in eight minutes.

She slicked on the lipstick at a stoplight in Lawton and still managed to knock on the door earlier than she’d expected.
Lord, please let them be okay. Give me the right words. Help me bring them home
. A slightly frazzled but pleasant-looking older woman opened the door.

“I’m Miss Chesterton. How can I help you?” She eyed Grace’s attire judiciously, making her glad she’d spent the extra effort.

“I’m Grace Willard, and I’m looking for Lizzie and Jake.” Grace issued a relieved sigh when the woman smiled and grabbed one of Grace’s hands in her two.

“Praise God! Kate reached you.”

Praise God
. Grace seconded that. Miss Chesterton’s first words gave her reassurance that God was with her.

“Lizzie!” the woman bellowed loudly over her shoulder, almost causing Grace’s eyes to cross. “Jake!” She ushered Grace into the entryway. “Oh, they’ll be so glad to see you.”

“Yes, Miss Chesterton?” Lizzie appeared first, Jake holding her hand as he trotted to keep up with her faster pace.

Grace stepped away from Miss Chesterton and knelt, her arms open wide.

“Auntie Grace!” Jake caught sight of her first and plowed ahead like a steamroller, with Lizzie rushing behind him. They both hit her at the same time, nearly bowling her over.

“I’m here.” Grace wrapped her arms around them, and they all clung together. When Lizzie began to cry softly, Grace let her own tears fall. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“Why are you crying?” Jake scooched around to pat his sister’s shoulder. “It’s all right now.” He beamed a brilliant smile. “Auntie Grace is here.”

“It’s okay to cry, Lizzie.” Grace cupped the girl’s cheek in her hand. “I understand.” And she did. Lizzie had probably spent the past two and a half months suppressing her own grief as everything familiar was stripped away from her. First her parents, then her home, then her grandfather. Lizzie had no doubt poured all she had into being strong for Jake, and her relief at knowing her auntie Grace would take care of them had cracked through her fragile facade. But now wasn’t the time to delve into all of that. She’d have time to speak with Lizzie privately later.

A woman Grace presumed to be Kate McNarty sailed through the door. “I have the papers to release them into your custody temporarily.” She stood alongside Miss Chesterton, who’d been watching their reunion with clasped hands.

“Auntie Grace needs to talk to Miss McNarty now so I can take you home with me.” Grace gave the kids one last squeeze before standing up. Jake clung to her skirt with one hand, his other grasped in his sister’s protective grip.

“Hi, Jake. Lizzie.” Miss McNarty smiled encouragingly.

“Hello.” Lizzie seemed to eye Kate McNarty with suspicion, apparently remembering her as the person who took her first from her home then from her grandfather’s apartment. The little girl edged even closer to her brother.

“Lizzie.” Grace moved so she could clasp Lizzie’s free hand, creating a protective circle. When the little girl looked into her eyes, she smiled softly. “Auntie Grace needs you to get ready. Would you please help Jake pack?”

Lizzie darted another glance at Kate McNarty before refocusing on Grace, who held her gaze. A gleam of purpose seemed to light her hazel eyes as the little girl straightened her shoulders and tugged her brother down the hall.

Grace waited until they were out of sight—and earshot— before addressing Kate McNarty.

“There will be nothing temporary about this.”

“Mornin’, little fellas,” Nickels greeted the chicks the following Saturday, smiling when they cheerily cheeped back at him. A few even hopped toward him, tilting their heads curiously.

Nickels settled them into the cardboard travel boxes and started out, surprised by how much he looked forward to visiting the orphanage.

No, it’s a group home. Not an orphanage
, he reminded himself about what Sondra had told him. They were waiting to be put with foster families. Group homes were transition places, not meant to raise the kids long-term in most cases.

But if that were so, why had she asked about several of the children by name? That indicated to him that the children had been in that “temporary” situation for quite a while.

The system is overburdened. There are more children than there are foster homes to put them in
. Sondra had answered his question sadly, and Nickels belatedly remembered that she’d been a foster child herself.
That’s part of the reason why it was so important to me that Miller kept chicks year round before he left me the ranch—the kids need something to look forward to on a regular basis. They’ve already suffered too many disappointments
.

“No disappointments today.” Nickels spoke aloud, giving voice to his determination to follow through on Sondra’s efforts. He spent an enjoyable hour with the children, hearing all about what they’d done that week and answering questions about Miss Sondra. But something—or someone—was missing. As the kids gave their chicks one last snuggle, he approached Miss Chesterton.

“Where are Jake and Lizzie?” He’d made that little boy a promise, after all.

“Oh!” Miss Chesterton beamed, her hair a frizzy halo in the late morning light. “Their aunt Grace—who’s really their second cousin—came by and picked them up just yesterday. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Nickels frowned, remembering Sondra mentioned something about their being at the group home all summer. Why had it taken her so long? Heat closed his throat.