September 2005.
Lucius and Ivy walked out of the woods, hand in hand, at the spot where they'd entered so many months before. They wore the clothes in which they'd left home. But those clothes were freshly laundered, and they'd changed into them only a half hour ago, at the camp where they'd left a dozen FBI agents.
They made their way slowly across a sunlit meadow, toward the cluster of buildings that made up the heart of the village. They knew most of its residents were in the chapel. They'd chosen a Sunday morning for their return because it was the best time to find most of the community gathered in one place.
But they didn't go directly there. Their first stop was the cemetery, where they dropped to their knees at the grave of 7-year-old Daniel Nicholson.
On the first anniversary of his burial.
"Danny's death started everything," Ivy said softly. "Life can be so cruel! If he hadn't died, you'd be dead."
Startled, Lucius asked, "What makes you say that?"
"It was Danny's death that prompted you to ask about going to the towns for medicine, remember?" She shuddered. "If you hadn't done that, made an issue of it, I don't think it would even have occurred to me to ask to go, after Noah stabbed you."
Lucius had never thought of that. Now, as he prayed for Danny, he put an arm around Ivy and held her tight.
They moved on to a newer grave--that of Noah Percy--and offered equally heartfelt prayers for him.
Promising young lives wasted, Lucius thought bitterly, just like Michael Hunt's.
But here, we can hope, there will be no more.
.
.
.
.
.
Five minutes later they approached the chapel. The door had been left open; they stood to one side of it for a few seconds, so they could listen to the preaching elder without being seen.
Lucius felt a lump in his throat as he realized who it was. Mother...
Alice was wrapping up her sermon. With a tremor in her voice, she concluded, "And so, as always, I beg you to continue praying for the safe return of Ivy Walker and my son Lucius."
The response came from scores of voices. "Yes!" "We will!" "Amen!"
Lucius couldn't keep silent for another moment. Moving as one--as they often did--he and Ivy stepped through the doorway, and he said simply, "We're here, Mother."
"But I am not Ivy Walker," Ivy announced. "I've been Ivy Hunt for four months now."
The congregation spun around to look at them. There was a chorus of gasps, cries of "Praise the Lord!"
And then there were full-fledged shrieks, as the villagers realized what they were seeing.
Lucius knew they weren't focusing on the hand Ivy was proudly holding up to display her wedding ring.
They were all looking at her eyeglasses.
As churchgoers scrambled to their feet and began crowding into the center aisle for a better look, Lucius saw only Ivy's parents. They were shrinking back, faces white with shock...and what he recognized as shame.
But while they retreated, the first to make a move toward Ivy were her sisters. Peggy ran into her arms with a squeal of delight; Kitty and the others were a few steps behind. Then they were all laughing and embracing, and Ivy was telling one after another, "You're so beautiful! I never knew!"
Briefly ignored, Lucius took his eyes off them and found himself gazing into the tearstained face of his mother. An instant later she was in his arms, crying on his shoulder.
Oh yes, Mother. I love you, and I always will. No matter what.
She looked up at him and said quietly, "Ivy's had cataract surgery?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, Lucius. I mean I'm happy for you and Ivy, I'm thrilled for you, but I'm sorry none of us ever told her how easily it could be done."
"Ivy doesn't blame you, Mother." But she's human enough that it will take her a while to forgive her parents. Even for this...not to mention everything else they've done.
Alice had caught his emphasis, and she swallowed hard. Then she said, "I have something to tell you. I know there are m-more important things to be discussed, but I want you to hear this right away, from me. Ivy isn't the only one who has a new name. Last month I became Alice...Nicholson."
"You what?" He blurted that out so loudly that Ivy and all her sisters turned to look at them.
And then, suddenly, August Nicholson was there, saying with a tentative smile, "I hope you can accept this, Lucius."
"Accept it?" He gave a giddy laugh. Not one of the elders has a completely clear conscience, but he and Mother are the best of them. "I love it! But I never dreamed--"
"Until recently, neither did we," Alice admitted. "But it is real love, just like yours."
"Then I'm delighted."
Difficult times are coming. I'm glad these two good people will have each other to cling to.
And someday, when the dust settles, I may even be able to think of August Nicholson as a father.