Daughters by Florence Osmund

at Rachael. “Maybe we should tell her now,” Marie said.
    “Tell me what?” Rachael asked.
    “Well, we weren’t going to say anything until it got closer to the date,” Ben said, “but we want you to know that Marie is coming back here for Christmas, and…”
    “Really? What a gas!”
    “What?”
    “A gas, Dad.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s great.”
    “Well, excuse me, Miss Almost Teenager. Anyway, here’s the deal. If you want to, you can ride to Atchison to pick her up and…”
    “What? I can do what?”
    “If you keep interrupting me, you’ll never hear the rest of this.”
    Rachael rolled her eyes and pretended to zipper her lips.
    “As I was saying, Marie has invited you to stay overnight with her and then ride back here the next day.”
    Rachael stared at Marie. “Really? But ride with who? How would I get there?”
    “By limo, of course.”
    “Are you kidding?” She made a face. “Me, in a limo?”
    “Now I may bring my girlfriend, Karen, back with me. I haven’t talked to her yet.” Marie paused. “You’ll like her, Rachael. She’s a lot of fun. Sound like a deal?”
    “Are you kidding? I’m all fired up and ready to go.”
    “Okay, young lady. That’s enough.” Ben turned to Marie. “‘Fired up’? I don’t know where she gets this language.”

    The Brooks children and grandchildren came by the house for breakfast the following day to say goodbye to Marie. Walter arrived mid-morning.
    Marie waited for the right moment to thank Claire when they were alone. “I don’t know how to thank you,” Marie said in a tight embrace. “I had such a nice time.”
    “I told you this before, but it bears repeating. You are always welcome here, Marie. You’re family now.” Based on the look on Claire’s face and hitch in her voice, Marie was fairly certain she meant it.
    The snow had let up from the previous day, but the roads were still hazardous, making the ride home longer than normal. “So what are you thinking, dear daughter?” Jonathan asked after they had ridden the first mile or so.
    “What am I thinking?” She turned her body toward his. “I’m thinking you have made me a very happy person. You have no idea.” She held his gaze. “I mean it.” She reached out for his hand. “My life has changed. I mean really changed. But it’s going to take me awhile to process it all.”
    “Tell me more.”
    “For starters, I have a family now. Mom has been gone for almost eight years. That’s a long time to be without family. Well, except for Karen. She’s like a sister to me. But other friends and the people you work with come and go. A family is there forever.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “For me, family is everything.” She paused to reflect. “I have to say, these past two weeks I have felt stronger and more confident than I ever have before. And safe.” She nodded. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.”
    “You don’t feel safe back in Atchison?”
    “It’s just that there’s this constant kind of underlying anxiety I have, like something bad is lurking around the corner. Even though I know in my brain I’m safe, I still don’t feel safe. I don’t know exactly how to explain it.”
    “I think I may know what you mean.”
    “And then there’s the emotional security, like I felt with Richard—during the good times, I mean. I felt that again these past two weeks, and I have to tell you, it felt good.”
    “But you’re a successful businesswoman. That must have taken a certain amount of strength and confidence.”
    “Maybe so, but I never felt it. Everything I did was a struggle. And, then of course, there’s the identity factor. For years I knew just half my identity. I had practically no family history. Now I feel a connection.” She paused. “I know all about your God-given identity. But knowing who your parents are, well, that’s a whole other layer.”
    Jonathan stared out the window. “When I think of identity, I think of what