16. Savannah
I’m up at the crack of dawn so that I have plenty of time to prepare for church this morning. After Penny was tucked into bed last night, Martha explained that the place where they worship accepts people just as they are. When she suggested that I should dress in whatever felt most comfortable for me, I almost laughed in her face. It’s Easter Sunday, and I’m well aware that most people will show up dressed in the nicest outfit they own and will put forth their very best, even when they are at their very worst.
I shouldn’t be so cynical about a church I’ve never been to before, but it’s hard for me to forget the way my mother pretended to be a devout Christian on Sunday, only to return to her wicked ways the rest of the week. I shared my story with Ethan once because he was the only one who understood me, having gone through much of the same thing. Only it was his father who put on the false front, not his mother.
I didn’t have it quite as bad as he did, but my mother was very controlling. I always had to wear the finest clothes, even to school, simply because she wanted to appear wealthy despite the fact we were barely scraping by. Because of that, I rarely played as a child or went anywhere with my friends. If I ruined my clothing in any way, I would have paid a hefty price. She never physically abused me, but she would lock me in my room, which was bare of decorations, books, or any kind of entertainment. It was my prison.
Trying my best to dispel the negative memories on such a sacred day, I concentrate all of my energy on curling my hair and applying my makeup to appear as natural as possible. Once I’m done with that, I open my closet and start pulling out dresses, ultimately disgusted with each one as I hold them to my body in front of the mirror. Frustrated with myself, I decide that I should take Martha’s advice.
Pulling out a pair of black skinny jeans and a cute, flowing floral top that hangs off one shoulder from my closet, I lay them neatly on the bed to keep them from wrinkling. I rummage through my drawers to find a white spaghetti-strap tank top to wear underneath the loose shirt, pairing the ensemble with a light pink belt and matching peep-toed wedge sandals. It might be the last day in March, but it’s 72 degrees outside.
Satisfied and comfortable, I make my way downstairs, preparing myself for a lecture on what’s deemed appropriate attire for church. I’m nowhere near indecent, but it’s not one of the stuffy dresses I was always forced to wear.
Penny is the first to see me, “Wow! You look like an angel, Anna!”
I stop in the stairwell when she says that to me, taken aback by the unadulterated approval in her eyes. But then I remember how she was dressed the day I first arrived and the fact that she’s six. Her opinion on what I should wear is questionable at best.
Slowly, I enter the living room and take a step back at the sight of the Shaw family waiting for me. Aiden is wearing black loose-fit jeans and a simple canary yellow button-up shirt with a white T-shirt underneath. His shirt hangs free from the confines of his belt, but he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is styled to perfection. Penny is wearing a cute summer dress and her sparkly pink tennis shoes. Martha is wearing black slacks and a purple sleeveless top, while Reggie is wearing clothing similar to Aiden, but unlike his son, the light blue shirt he’s wearing is tucked in.
“You weren’t kidding when you said to dress comfortably. I thought you might be pulling my leg.” I say, directing my comment at Martha.
“There are a few people in the congregation who dress up for church, and still some who put on airs, but most of us come to worship God, not Calvin Klein. If God doesn’t care what you wear, then why should we?” she retorts before coming over to hug me.
Penny also comes over and snakes her arms around my waist. “Anna, you’re going to love our church. We get to sing songs!”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
My phone pings with a notification, and I pull it out of my purse to verify who’s coming up the driveway. As promised, Aiden’s security team is here at 8:00 am sharp with two SUVs. Following behind them is a tow truck with Aiden’s vehicle hooked up.
“It looks like Scott took care of getting your Sierra to you in one piece,” I tell Aiden.
He pulls out his phone and frowns, “Why didn’t my phone chime? Dad, didn’t you tell me that regardless of whether or not someone has the code, I’ll get an alert when the gate opens now?”
Reggie nods. “You should have.”
Aiden taps his screen. “I didn’t get an audible alert, even though there’s a text.”
Penny takes the phone out of his hand and flips a switch, “That’s because you had it on silent, Dad. Sheesh! What am I going to do with you?”
“You’re stuck with me forever!” Aiden teases, tickling her ribs and making her giggle uncontrollably. They run around the room in a game of tag while Aiden’s truck is being delivered.
I walk outside and talk to Scott, who is standing beside Jeremy and Jack. “Did you find anything?”
Scott pulls out a small Faraday bag and hands it to me. I open it up and see a small camera with a built-in tracker. Scott waits until I close the bag before speaking. “When we did a sweep of the vehicle, we found the camera in one of the vents. I have no idea how long it’s been there, Anna. Someone could have jimmied the lock while the truck was parked at the arena or hid it in there more than a year ago. There wasn’t any sign of a break-in, which makes it difficult to determine when the device was planted.”
“Thanks, Scott. Anything else?”
“No, Ma’am. That’s all we found.”
When my team arrives in a few hours, I’ll give the bag to Jerry. As one of the tech experts on our team, he might be able to narrow down where the device came from and who purchased it.
A few minutes later, the family comes out and piles into the two vehicles, Martha and Reggie in one, while Aiden, Penny, and I ride in the other. The trek to church takes about ten minutes, and my palms begin to sweat the closer we get.
We still have almost 15 minutes until the service is supposed to start, and I’m uncomfortable with all the eyes trained on us the moment we step foot inside the church. I lean over to Aiden and speak softly, “Why is everyone staring at you? I thought you were a regular here.”
He chuckles and whispers back, “They aren’t staring at me, Anna. They’re staring at you. They’re wondering who you are to us—to me. Only one other nanny ever attended church with my family, and that was Mrs. Gertie. She’s almost 60.”
“Oh. How come she isn’t Penny’s nanny anymore?”
“Last year, Gertie’s daughter had twins and needed some extra help while her husband was deployed. Gertie moved to Texas to be close to her family and never returned. However, she still keeps in touch with us through social media and the occasional handwritten letter.”
As light piano music begins to play, the musicians walk up to the stage, and everyone in the sanctuary ambles to their seats. Aiden gestures toward a pew in the last few rows that has enough room for the entire family. Scott and Jeremy take up their positions against the rear wall, hiding in the corners, while Jack stands by the back door, ready and waiting to escort Penny to the kiddy church when the time comes.
Martha and Reggie slide down the pew, and I follow them, ensuring that Aiden has a quick escape route if need be. Penny is nestled safely between her father and me. I jump when the band starts to play an upbeat worship song. It’s a far cry from the old-school hymnal music I remember. Instead, it’s lively, contemporary, and joyful. I find myself clapping with everyone else, even though I don’t know most of the words right off the bat. Thankfully, the lyrics are up on the screen, and it only takes until the second verse of each song before I have the melody down and can sing along. I grew up with hymnals, organs, and choirs made up of people who could barely carry a tune, which often bored me to tears and put me to sleep. This time, I’m wide awake and totally enraptured, and the pastor has yet to begin his sermon.
I watch as a man no older than 30 stands in front of the pulpit and dismisses the children for the children’s church. Martha and Penny push past us and meet Jack in the back before disappearing downstairs. I bite my thumbnail nervously, not wanting my charge to be out of my sight. Aiden notices and gently grabs my hand to stop me. However, he doesn’t release it and continues to hold it throughout the service. My heart opens up just a little bit more by the gesture.
“Everything is going to be all right, Anna. Jack will protect Mom and Penny with his life,” Aiden says in a gentle and reassuring way.
“I know, but I’m the one that’s supposed to be looking after Penny.”
“Anna, Jack is part of your team. Take the advice you all gave me last night and allow them to step up and fill in the gaps. Jack has more than proved that he’s up to the task.”
“You’re right. I should follow my own advice, but that’s always easier said than done.” I stop talking when the surprisingly young pastor begins to speak about the Resurrection of Jesus. There were plenty of verses quoted, but one caught my attention and had me leaning forward to hear more. He read Matthew 28:5-6 from the English Standard Version of the Bible found in the back of every pew.
The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.”
I began imagining what it must have been like to walk into a tomb where a one- to two-ton stone had been rolled away, only to find it empty and see an angel sitting in the place where Jesus had been laid. I audibly gasp at the enormity of what my mind has conjured up as the pastor continues the story of the risen King. I quickly cover my mouth to hide my faux pas, ready to be reprimanded or shushed by the people surrounding me. Instead, they smile and nod approvingly, and one person even mouths, “Exciting, isn’t it?”
I dip my chin once but don’t raise my head, allowing my hair to hide my embarrassment. Aiden lifts my chin and whispers, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Anna. It’s okay to be in awe that Jesus conquered death so that we have a pathway to Him and a way to be forgiven. I’ve been a believer all my life, and I still can’t fathom the depths of His love for us. It’s that deep and abiding.”
When the service concludes, I’m ready to run down the aisle proclaiming my newfound love for Jesus, but something holds me back. I don’t know if it’s because I think the moment should be private or if it’s because I have unfinished business with Him that I need to resolve first. But I promise myself to have a tête-à-tête with God tonight because, until today, I’ve never felt worthy of His love—or anyone’s love, for that matter.
Reggie, Aiden, and I stand up and try to sneak out the back so that we can pick up Penny and Martha and leave as soon as possible. There is a party we need to get ready for and not a whole lot of time left to prepare. Scott and Jeremy effectively do their jobs by clearing a way for our departure and then following us down the stairs to where the children are playing.
When we arrive, the kids are bouncing boisterously around the room to peppy worship music that is playing loudly through the speakers. Penny is dancing and singing at the top of her lungs, spinning around in circles with her arms stretched out. It takes a second for her to notice that we’re there, but when she does, she runs over and grabs my hand.
“Anna, you have to meet my Sunday School teacher! She’s one of the nicest people I have ever met!” Penny drags me behind her, excited to introduce me to her friend. With every step we take closer to the woman, the more the hairs on my neck stand on end. A sense of danger permeates my body, and alarm bells start ringing in my head. I try to shake it off, but the feeling doesn’t go away.
Penny shouts to a gray-haired older lady who has her back turned to us but is unsuccessful at garnering her attention due to the volume of the music. Reggie heads in Martha’s direction, who is behind a table handing out cookies, while Aiden and Scott are following close behind me. I quickly scan the room for the source of danger but don’t see anyone that looks out of place. Jack and Jeremy recognize the loose fingers and rigid stance of my body and immediately know something is wrong. They go on high alert, searching for the cause of my distress. My gun is concealed under my shirt, but I’m ready to draw it quickly should the need arise.
I catch up to Penny, who has now let go of my hand so that she can tap the woman on the shoulder. “Mrs. Gretchen, I want you to meet my new nanny, Anna.”
At the sound of the woman’s name coming from Penny’s lips, I inadvertently pull Penny behind me and take a small step back. When Mrs. Gretchen turns around and smiles sweetly at Penny, my knees almost buckle. My worst fear about returning to Savannah has just come to pass, and the one reason for me to use a false identity is no longer necessary.
Standing before me is none other than Gretchen Jones. My mother.