Page 82 of Freedom's Kiss
Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them back, desperate to rid herself of the obstruction so she could look clearly on her mom again. Her heart twisted. Fear poked. But if she allowed fear to be the voice of reason behind her decision—fear of hurt and rejection—she’d be listening to the mouthpiece of a liar. One that imprisoned, not one that set free.
She broke eye contact and squeezed her fingers. Looked back at Amy and noticed Mom and Dad sitting at a picnic table not far away, where the majority of the food vendors were set up. Dad’s spoon, swollen with blue ice, paused midair as his gaze connected with hers. He gave her an encouraging smile and nodded.
A truth she’d known logically but had been holding at arm’s length buried deep inside her. Every scraped knee, every family vacation, every bedtime story… David and Eileen Arroyowereher mom and dad. They always had been, and they always would be. No matter what other family she might discover or add to her life.
Her gaze darted back to the circle of women. To one in particular. She looked hard. Deep. Past the layers of regret and fear…and found love.
The uncertainty that had plagued her vanished. She wasn’t the only one scared and afraid of rejection in this equation. And whatever Charlotte Kinnard’s story was, Olivia wanted to hear it. “I’d like to meet her.”
Amy’s bright smile returned as she unfolded her legs and rose. Olivia watched Charlotte. Once she saw Amy heading her direction, she stepped out from behind the other woman. Her gaze darted to Olivia before she took a tentative step forward. Amy met her in the middle and put an arm around her back.
Olivia stood and waited, never taking her eyes from Charlotte’s. They were a dark-brown color, almost black. Her hair shone and reflected the sunlight, as black and brilliant as a crow’s. Her face was smooth, though Olivia noticed small wrinkles around her eyes and mouth the closer she came. But she looked young. Much too young to have a twenty-eight-year-old daughter.
Amy and Charlotte slowed and then stopped in front of Olivia. Charlotte’s eyes clouded with tears. Her hand rose slowly, and then her face crumpled, hiding it behind her palms as her shoulders shook.
Olivia’s heart hitched. One step, all it took to breach the distance between them. She drew Charlotte close until her head rested on Olivia’s shoulder, and she patted her birth mother on the back.
Through the sobs Olivia could make out the repeated wordsI’m sorry…I’m so sorry.
Olivia made shushing sounds as she rubbed her hand down Charlotte’s spine. Never had she imagined the reunion going like this. After a moment, she took a step back and placed her hands on Charlotte’s upper arms. Her birth mom still kept her face buried in her palms, her shame and grief palpable.
Olivia pressed her fingers into Charlotte’s upper arms. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She looked at Amy. “I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t have to go far before she caught Dad’s attention. He’d been watching the whole thing from his perch at the picnic table. They locked gazes, and he seemed to be able to read her desire without a word. He stood and helped her mom slide from the bench seat, keeping his hand clasped with his wife’s.
Olivia stood in the middle, David and Eileen heading toward her from one direction and Amy and Charlotte huddled together from the other. The lost feeling that had drifted around inside her evaporated. She wasn’t a lone survivor, someone tossed about by whims of which she had no control. If anything, she was doubly blessed. Doubly loved.
A vision of Adam staring down into her eyes before he captured her lips in a kiss flashed across her mind.
Maybe triply loved.
Warmth spread through her limbs to her fingertips. She reached out to grab her mom’s hand, tugging her parents to the blanket, where they joined a seated Amy and Charlotte.
After arranging herself on the wool tartan blanket, Olivia reached over with her free hand and gripped Charlotte’s. Her mom to her left and her mom to her right.
Charlotte blinked but no longer hid. This close, Olivia guessed Charlotte to be no more than a dozen-plus years older than herself.
Olivia squeezed her hand. “I want to say thank you.”
Charlotte bit her lower lip.
“Thank you for making the brave decision to give me the best life you could.” She held on to Charlotte’s gaze before looking at Mom and Dad. “I haven’t always realized that was what you’d done, and I’m sorry for that.” Her head swiveled to recapture Charlotte’s gaze. “I thought I needed an explanation, but I don’t.” She pressed her hand tighter. “Just…thank you.”
Charlotte nodded. Blinked a dozen times in a second. Took a deep breath. “My story…our story…it’s not so different from so many others. I was young. Only fifteen. Still a child myself, so how could I raise one?” With her free hand she pinched the blanket and rubbed the material between her index finger and thumb. “I may have made a bad decision, having sex, but I never thought of you as a mistake. Even then. But I knew…as much as it ripped my heart out of my chest…I knew I couldn’t give you the life you deserved.” She sniffed. “The day they took you away, that was the hardest day of my life.”
Mom let go of Olivia’s hand and rummaged around in her purse. She found a pack of travel tissues and handed one to Charlotte.
“Your worst day,” Mom said, “was my best day. Thank you. Thank you for entrusting us with your greatest treasure.”
Charlotte nodded and used the white tissue to dab at her tears.
Everyone was silent, absorbed, Olivia was sure, in their own emotions and thoughts as she was in hers.
“I…” Charlotte moved to uncover a book atop one corner of the blanket. “I wanted to give you something, if that’s…if that’s okay?” Questioning eyes looked to David and Eileen and then Olivia for approval. Finding it, she continued, “It’s an inheritance of sorts. Something passed down in our family.” She handed it to Olivia.
Olivia ran her hand over the cloth-covered hardback book. The corners were scrunched and no longer at hard, right angles. Parts of the cloth covering was bare, as if it had come in contact with many hands. She looked up at Amy and then Charlotte. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
