A Mother's Promise. Ruth Scofield

over supper almost every night. If Betty hadn’t chosen to marry that no-good lowlife, Rick—against her very sound advice, Katherine usually included—then she wouldn’t find herself in such a bind now. If Betty had stood up to that bully, she wouldn’t have sustained the black eyes or broken arms or been abandoned. If Betty would only snap out of this so-called depression and get a job, then she could make it on her own.

      Katherine’s list stretched to include Lisa. Her teenage transgressions piled higher as the months dragged out. She didn’t clean the kitchen properly. Her skirts and her shorts were too short, her hair was worn too wild. She took forever at her homework, keeping the household up late. And if she continued to hang out with that crazy wild kid down the street, she’d find trouble.

      What Katherine complained of most was the way the boys looked at Lisa.

      Lisa’s answer was to make herself less and less visible at home and to find attention elsewhere. When the boys found her attractive, she responded with a slow sexy smile she’d learned from the movies.

      Eventually, Lisa and her mom found an apartment of their own, but life did not improve. With her mother’s spotty work record and frequent inability to cope, Lisa grew up fast. She learned to juggle their income and bills, her schoolwork, her after-school job, the household and her mom—until Betty finally re-married and moved to Florida.

      At seventeen, Lisa had been on her own. Emotionally, she still was on her own, she thought now as she waited at Aunt Katherine’s door. On her own again except for the assurance that the Lord was with her. But that was so new…she didn’t really know…

      The front door opened a crack. Katherine’s lined face hardened the moment she spotted Lisa. “Oh. It’s you. Might’ve known.”

      Lisa despised the fact she’d fulfilled every horrible prediction Aunt Katherine had hurled at her over the years. She had no excuses, but she’d worked diligently to turn her life around this past year.

      Behind Katherine, the TV spouted the nightly news and weather. The predicted cold front already made the temperature feel icy. They’d lost the last remnant of summer, Lisa guessed. Like her. She had nothing of her youth left, and only one bright star in her future.

      “Yeah, it’s me.”

      “What are you doing here at this time of night, Lisa? Past your curfew? I’m about ready for bed.”

      “You know why…”

      “Who is it, Kate?” Uncle Mark called as he came from the back of the house.

      Lisa’s fingers tightened on her shoulder purse as she held Katherine’s severe gaze. “May I come in, Aunt Katherine?”

      “She’s asleep,” Katherine snapped. “You can’t disturb her.”

      “I won’t, I promise. I’ll only look at her.”

      “You’re outside your visiting hours, girl. You weren’t supposed to come until Sunday.”

      “I know that. Please?” Lisa despised begging, but swallowed her pride. She’d be on her knees if it would help her cause. “Please, Aunt Katherine. I can’t wait till Sunday. It’s been months—”

      “Let her in, Kate.” Mark’s commanding tone had an underlying note of compassion.

      Lisa held her breath. She didn’t dare acknowledge Mark’s help.

      Katherine’s lips thinned, but after flashing Mark an enraged glare, she swung the door wide. “All right. But only for a minute, y’hear? If you make any trouble, then don’t expect to come here on Sunday. Now don’t you dare wake the child. She’s got nursery school in the morning.”

      “She does?” Lisa stepped inside, so eager that she barely kept herself from racing to the tiny back bedroom where she’d stayed with her mother. “Oh. I didn’t know…you didn’t tell me…”

      The house smelled the same—of strong disinfectant and furniture polish. A fast glimpse of the hall bathroom as she passed showed the same bowl of plastic flowers she remembered on the vanity. Only a foam ball on the floor indicated a change in her aunt’s routine.

      Katherine followed close on her heels, still hissing a protest. “This isn’t wise, Lisa. If Mrs. Braddock hears about this…”

      Mention of her parole officer was a threat Lisa expected.

      “Mrs. Braddock would understand.” She hoped. “She has grandchildren…”

      Tiptoeing, Lisa crept to the side of the white daybed that had replaced the old double bed she recalled. A small form barely raised the blanket.

      Her breathing grew shallow as she gazed at her daughter. Cecily lay on her side, her tiny palm under her cheek, her mouth pink and sweetly bowed. Light-brown curls covered the little girl’s head, and Lisa tentatively brushed them with a butterfly touch. She yearned to hold her, to kiss those plump cheeks. To hear the music of her giggles and sing the duck song Cecily had loved just before they were parted.

      What was her favorite song now? Did she still hate carrots? She’d grown, Lisa realized. Her limbs were longer. How tall was she now? Could she skip? Lisa could remember her little girl trying to get both feet to cooperate.

      Had she forgotten her mother?

      “Hi, baby,” she whispered, stroking one tiny hand.

      Fierce possessiveness gripped Lisa’s heart, while silent tears gathered. She didn’t even try to stop their slide down her cheeks. Cecily was her one bright star. Lisa would do whatever she had to to get her daughter back. To protect her…

      “Mommy’s here. I came to see you as soon as I could.” She was three years old, yet Cecily’s skin still felt baby-soft.

      “Your five minutes are up,” Katherine said.

      Lisa continued to gaze at her daughter. Hers. Not Katherine’s.

      Not Rudy’s, either, in spite of the biological truth. But saddling Cecily with that knowledge wasn’t in Lisa’s plans. Getting involved with Rudy was her sin, not her daughter’s, and she’d paid dearly with humiliation and total disillusionment. At her age, too, when it was expected she’d have gained some smarts. She’d been so stupid.

      Only her acceptance of God’s forgiveness had restored anything left of hope for her.

      Lisa couldn’t lay the piece of garbage that Rudy was on Cecily and expect her to grow up whole, and with any self-confidence. Lisa had suffered that kind of childhood—she wouldn’t inflict it on her own daughter. And Rudy didn’t want them, a truth that had come down on her like an ancient burial stone at the time.

      Oddly enough, she now thanked God for Rudy’s disinterest. Growing up without a father wasn’t the worst of sins, as she knew. Plenty of kids were raised by only one parent. She was ready to accept that the blame and blessing of Cecily’s birth was hers alone.

      Only a few months ago, while in Beth Anne’s company, Lisa had vowed to God that if He’d only help her to be free of her past, she’d be the best mother to Cecily she could. She’d live her life on that narrow, sin-free path that the Bible described could be hers through Jesus, and she would teach Cecily His ways.

      Now she had to prove it. To the courts. To Aunt Katherine. To herself. And to God, if she expected Him to help her.

      “That’s enough,” Katherine hissed, hauling Lisa’s dreams out of the clouds. The older woman’s fingers pinched her upper arm, urging her from the room.

      Giving Cecily one last glance, Lisa bit her lip. Every cell in her body protested leaving Cecily, but if she hoped to win back the right to raise her child, she had to cooperate now. She’d already pushed her luck for tonight.

      “Thank you,” she murmured past the emotion that clogged her throat. She moved slowly out of the tiny bedroom and down the hall toward the living room.

      “You should be