Page 114 of A Whim and a Prayer

She shook her head, dislodging more tears as she reached out to touch Winnie’s arm, and this time Winnie didn’t retreat. “Both Mama and I fell instantly in love with you, Winnie, a tiny, little thing with a moppet of blond curls just like her father, and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. It didn’t matter to Mama or me that they were crossed, sweetheart. You were our sweet, little baby doll, and we loved you with all of our hearts.”

Blotting the tears with her tissue, Mrs. C straightened with a square of her shoulders as her gaze drifted off once again. “At first Richard just complained about you, taking out his drunken rants on Mama and me. But when the next-door neighbor threatened to go to the police about his abuse, he changed his tune real fast, blaming his anger on the fact that Mama kept putting off marrying him, swearing he would turn over a new leaf if she would just become his wife.”

Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy exhale as a sad smile tipped her lips. “And for a period of time, it seemed as if he had—curtailing his drinking, treating Mama and me better, even not complaining about you as much. And of course, the Great Depression had just begun, so when Mama lost her job”—her fingers began shredding the tissue in her lap as if unaware—“she was so worried about making ends meet for us, she finally said yes. And things seemed better after that.” Her gaze lifted to Winnie in sorrow. “Until you turned two. He started drinking more, abusing us more.” She paused, her voice suddenly lifeless. “But when he started abusing you—”

Winnie sucked in a harsh breath, and Mama’s grip tightened from behind.

“—Mama and I were worried sick because we couldn’t stop him, Winnie. Every time you got sick, he threatened to drop you on the steps of the orphanage, shouting that you were too much trouble and expense to care for, and unfortunately, you were sick a lot. But when his threats got more serious, saying awful things about how he was going to hurt you—”

Winnie’s eyes weighted closed, her voice wavering as the memory slashed through her like it was yesterday. “Drown the little freak in the r-river like a rabies c-cat …” Winnie whispered and Mrs. C caught her breath.

“You … you remember that?”

Winnie nodded with a sob, and Mrs. C swallowed her up in a hug that Winnie allowed, weeping as both Mama and Mrs. C cocooned her in their arms, creating a circle of love that Winnie felt to the core of her being.

And one that could, hopefully, begin her healing from the inside out.

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Mrs. C pulled back to stare, still holding onto Winnie’s arms. “Oh, Winnie, I am so sorry you remember that, sweetheart, but hopefully you’ll understand why Mama and I did what we did.” She pushed at the wetness in her eyes as she swallowed hard, lifting her fingers to caress the side of Winnie’s face. “Because when he sent you to the hospital, unconscious with broken bones—”

“Oh, God, no …” Mama whispered behind her, and Winnie sensed more than saw Daddy walk over to join them on the couch as Mrs. C went on.

“—Mama and I knew we had to do something soon. The time came when you got so terribly sick—a fever of 105° and so weak, we couldn’t even get food down you. We wanted to take you to the hospital, but he wouldn’t let us. Told us the only place we could take you was to the orphanage, and because we were afraid you’d die without care … we did.”

Mrs. C started weeping uncontrollably, and Winnie reached to caress her hand, crying along with her. “We pinned a note to your nightgown, telling them your name was Winifred and to please take care of you for us. But Richard followed us all the way just to make sure, and when he saw what we’d written, he tore most of it off and added his own note before he rang the bell and forced us away. When I dawdled to make sure they answered the door, he jerked me away crying.”

Mrs. C wiped at her face with the tattered tissue, finally looking up at Winnie through swollen eyes. “Mama promised we’d find a way to get you back, Winnie, I swear, but when Richard moved us to New York a few months later to take a new job, we … we didn’t know what to do. I swore to Mama that when I turned eighteen, I was going to move back to Boston, so from that point on, I saved every cent I earned from various jobs.”

Her gaze suddenly wandered off once more, eyes soggy as she spoke in a low monotone while a lone tear trailed her cheek. “Mama was supposed to go with me, you know, but when she died a month before I turned eighteen”—Mrs. C gave a listless shrug—“I left for Boston the day after the funeral, praying I would never see Richard again.”

She refocused on Winnie once more, tenderness replacing the dead look in her eyes. “I went straight from the train station to The Boston Society for the Care of Girls to find you, Winnie, on the pretense that I needed a job, but I didn’t see you there. I asked several of the sisters about you, and they said you’d just been adopted recently.”

She reached to gently cup Winnie’s face as more tears welled in her eyes. “I was devastated sweetheart, but happy for you at the same time. I knew they wouldn’t tell me who adopted you because those records are sealed, so I volunteered to work in the office since I had typing and accounting classes in high school. That’s how I found out about the Dennehys, by sneaking a look at your records, and from there, I made a plan.”

Her chin nudged up a hair as she dabbed at her face, a note of pride in her voice that Winnie felt too. “Decided right then and there to get my teaching degree. Stayed with my aunt while I worked my way through Boston Teacher’s College, earning an elementary teaching degree in two years. I knew as a daughter, you were lost to me forever, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be in your life at some point. So, I kept track of you through grade school, even after I got married and had children of my own. And when I learned of your interest in drama at St. Stephen’s, I went back to get my bachelor’s degree so I could teach English and dramatics in high school with the hopes that maybe … someday … you might become my student.”

Winnie shook her head, hardly able to believe anyone would go through that much trouble. “You went through all that … just for me?”

Mrs. C’s lip trembled as she clutched Winnie’s hand. “Oh, honey, I would have gone to the moon and back for you because like I said—I love you, Winnie, and always have.”

“Oh, Mrs. C!” Winnie shot into her arms, the two of them sobbing like babies while her family looked on. When their tears were spent, Mrs. C pulled away to pick up the papers she’d brought, her hands shaking as she slowly unfolded them. “I wanted to give you your birth certificate, sweetheart”—she handed it to Winnie before passing a second paper to Mama—“and, Mrs. Dennehy, I thought you might want to have the hospital report for Winnie’s medical file”—her throat convulsed several times—“the one after Richard broke several of her bones.”

“Thank you, Joan, but I thought we agreed you would call me Charity.” She took the report from Mrs. C’s hand and hooked an arm to Winnie’s shoulder. “After all, we are all family now, right, Winnie?”

A sob broke from Winnie’s lips as she whirled to crush Mama in her arms, so very grateful for the amazing family God had given her. “I love you, Mama”—she whispered, pulling back to nibble on the edge of a shy smile—“and I can never thank God enough for the gift of you and Mrs. D.” She reached to gently touch her father’s arm. “And you too, Daddy.”

“Hey, what about me?” Gabe asked from across the room.

Giggles bubbled from Winnie’s lips. “Yes, even you, Gabe, and Alex too.”

Winnie turned back to Mrs. C with a soupy smile. “I love you, too, Mrs. C—always have—but I’m not exactly sure what I should call you now ...”

“Well, you already have the most wonderful mother I could have ever hoped for you, Winnie,” Mrs. C said with an affectionate smile at Charity, “and you and I are only fourteen years apart, so maybe you can think of me more like a big sister and just call me Joan. How would that be?”

“I would like that, Joan,” Winnie said softly. “But it sure sounds strange.” She hesitated, teeth grating her lower lip. “What will I tell everybody that knows you when I call you Joan?”

Mrs. C shrugged. “Just tell them I asked you to call me Joan because we’re good friends now instead of teacher and student.” She patted Winnie’s hand. “And I think it might be wise to just keep our true relationship quiet for a while till you and your parents decide how you want to handle it, all right? My husband knows, but my son and daughter do not, so I’ll wait for your decision before I tell them, okay?”