HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 17

NANCY

STAND FAST THEREFORE IN THE LIBERTY BY WHICH CHRIST HAS MADE US FREE, AND DO NOT BE ENTANGLED AGAIN WITH A YOKE OF BONDAGE    (Galatians 5:1)

          As Nancy gazed out of the airplane window, she reminded me of the girl I saw for the first time more than a decade ago on the playground. Her demeanor was both defiant as in ‘don’t mess with me,’ coupled with sad and lonely.

          I had a hard time concentrating on the book I was reading since I kept stealing glances at her out of the corner of my eye. During one such peak her head snapped in my direction, and my eyes flipped quickly back to my book.

          I felt her fingers on my chin, then she gently turned my head to look at her. She was grinning as she said, “Always keeping a watchful eye on me, huh Drew?”

          “Whatever do you mean?” I replied innocently.

          “I mean, you’ve always been there for me, even when I wasn’t there for you,” she told me as her eyes welled.

          “You’ve always been there for me as well.”

          She snorted. “Hardly. I’m sure you recall our three year hiatus, instigated by me.”

          “We were kids, foolish teenagers that needed time to grow.”

          She laughed, and for the first time since she was told her mother was actually her aunt, she looked somewhat happy. “Have you forgotten that we’re still teenagers?”

          “Maybe so, but we’re much closer to twenty than twelve.”

          “Maturity wise, you’re more like forty,” she said, and then looked at the book in my hand. “Make that more like sixty. How many teenagers have a physical book in their hands on a flight, rather than a phone?”

          “Hey, stop aging me,” I joked. “You’ll have me over a hundred by the time I really am forty.”

          “Just think how wise you’ll be, though.”

          “Well, okay, as long as I don’t have a hundred year old body when I’m forty.”

          She looked at me fondly, but behind her eyes was that unbearable sadness again. “Those three years without you in my life were so empty.”

          “There was a huge void for me as well.”

          She looked at me with a baffled expression. “I completely understand why I love you. What I don’t understand is why love me. I tend to be moody and witchy, I have hard time being girly, I come from an incredibly dysfunctional family. So you’re, like, too good to be true.”

          “Well, let me address these one at a time,” I told her. “When you go through a spell of darkness, your light shines all the brighter when you come through the other side. As for not being girly, I like that you’re not. It makes your natural femininity all the more beautiful to me. And obviously you have had a dismal childhood, whereas mine was very blessed. So I want more than anything to bring you into that fold by making you my wife. But first we have to repair the breach you feel with the only family you currently have.”

          “I don’t know how I could make this trip without you by my side. Even with you, I don’t know how to confront who I thought was my mom about her actually being my aunt.”

          “Are you that angry with her that you view our trip to California as a confrontation?”

          “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just… confused.”

          “How do you feel about her?”

          She smiled wryly at me. Then she said softly, “You really get me.”

          “Do I?” I asked with a shrug.

          “You’ve always known when to leave me be, and you’ve always known when to talk.”

          “Are you avoiding my question?”

          Her mood swung back to seeming happy as she laughed. “See, you even knew I was avoiding the question.”

          “Are you gonna answer it?” I asked gently.

          She looked away from me and her expression turned pensive. After a minute she looked at me and spoke with a bit of hostility. “I’m angry that she lied to me all these years. It was bad enough I endured, you know… Then the rest of my childhood, I grew up believing my mom was my mom, when in reality she was my aunt. It rattles my faith in everything.”

          “Including your new relationship with Christ?”

          She nodded. “Can you blame me?”

          “No, but it’s not surprising.”

          “Why is that?”

          “You remember that there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repents?” (Luke 15:7)

          “Yes, of course.”

          “Well, on the other hand there is anger in the demonic realm. Jesus warned us that in this world we would have tribulation, or trouble. (John 16:33) Then he told us what?”

          “Be of good cheer I have overcome the world,” Nancy finished with anything but cheer, her arms folded, her gaze at the back of the seat in front of her. Then she turned to me and said a bit testily, “Well, then you tell me what I should think and feel about Phebe.”

          I had never heard her call her mother/aunt by her first name before. So I cautiously replied, “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

          Nancy snorted and turned her gaze back to the back of the seat in front of her.

          “Here’s what I do know. Your mom…”

          “She’s my aunt,” she interrupted stubbornly.

          “No, she’s your mother,” I relied with equal stubbornness.

          “If she was truly my mother, I would have known she had a twin sister. It seems I know nothing about my family, and Phebe would never answer my questions about her parents or any other relatives. She would just tell me it was best I didn’t know, or you don’t want to know. So that’s why I don’t feel optimistic about this trip. I don’t know who she is.”

          “She’s the woman who raised you.”

          “Under a huge lie.”

          “She’s the only family you’ve got.”

          She looked at me again, and any semblance of happiness was gone. She appeared so lost and vulnerable, I couldn’t help saying, “Until we are married. Then you and I will be family.”

          Nancy and I were not a couple prone to public affection. But she emitted a little whimper and kissed me firmly on the mouth. Although delighted, as soon as our lips separated, I looked to my right, slightly embarrassed. But the seat next to me was vacant, and the older lady in the end seat appeared to be sleeping.

          “There’s something I want to make sure you’re considering about your mother,” I said.

          “Stop calling her my mother,” she said quietly, yet menacingly, then folded her arms abruptly. “Phebe’s my aunt.”

          “Maybe she’s biologically your aunt,” I said gently. “But she left her life in California and came to Iowa, far away from your trauma, to raise you, to protect you. Obviously you’re aware of all the beach décor in the house you two lived in. Then practically the minute you left for college, and moved in with Addie, she returned to California. She came to the Midwest knowing only one friend here, and then spent a decade away from the ocean and other friends she loved.”

          “Yeah,” she replied with a look of wonder on her face. Then after staring trance like at the back of her seat for half a minute, she spoke as if to herself. “How did I not see that? I guess couldn’t see the forest because of all the trees.”

          “I have no doubt that Phebe loves you,” I declared.

          “Yes, thank you for opening my eyes,” she responded softly, squeezed my hand. “I do believe my mom loves me.”

          Nancy’s mother/aunt lived in a condo with two other women in Huntington Beach. It was in walking distance from the Pacific Ocean. Despite the deceptions about her childhood, Nancy and Phebe hugged warmly. I was thrilled when Nancy said, “Hi Mom.”

          “Oh Sweety, I was so excited when you let me know you were coming,” Phebe told her, then smiled warmly at me. “And doubly excited that you brought Drew.” Then she laughed. “And triply excited that you two made up and are friends again.”

          “We’re more than friends, Mom, we’re engaged,” Nancy said happily, looking at me and then back to her mom/aunt.

          “Oh Honey, that’s wonderful!” Phebe practically shouted, then hugged her daughter/niece again. Then she hugged me, kissed my cheek, and told us ‘Congratulations.’

          There was a clear family resemblance between the two women. Especially with their hair since Nancy’s red gold hair was now shoulder length, and her mother/aunt’s hair that was once down to her tail bone strawberry blonde hair was now in a short bob.

          Phebe was very much a modern hippie. Long flowing colorful dresses, plenty of beads with rings on most of her fingers. She also had a laid back surfer drawl, which may or may not have been enhanced by the imbibing of marijuana.

          One of Phebe’s roommates was conveniently in Oregan visiting kids and grandkids over that Labor Day weekend. So Nancy was able to stay in her room over our three day stay. I slept in a hideaway bed in the living room. Nancy’s mom/aunt was puzzled that we didn’t sleep together, even after we explained that we weren’t married yet.

          This opened the door for Nancy to share her new Christian faith with Phebe. Her reaction was neutral. Although her vocal response was affirmative by saying ‘that’s nice.’ Her bodily reaction was stiff, as if to say ‘don’t push it on me.’

          Nancy was usually a very gung ho type of person. So I was a little surprised that we were there more than a full twenty four hour day before Nancy broached the subject that had inspired our trip out west in the first place. It came after dinner, during our second evening at Phebe’s.

          “Would you like some dessert?” Nancy’s mom/aunt asked. “I have strawberry ice cream or a coconut Pepperidge Farm cake. Or we could have both.”

          “No thanks,” my bride to be answered with an eerie calm, her fingers laced together and resting on top of the table. “But there is a serious matter I’d like to discuss with you.”