Summer's Child Read Online Free PDF Page A

his hair was the color of the sea oats on the Kill Devil Hillsbeach. He was a good match for St. Esther’s, as approachable and cheerful as the church itself.
    Daria felt her mother put an arm around her shoulders. “Go ahead and tell him, honey,” she said.
    “I found a baby on the beach,” Daria said.
    Father Macy’s brown eyes grew wide. “A baby?” he repeated.
    “Yes,” her mother said. “Daria had the courage to pick her up and bring her home to us, even though she was a newborn with the, uh…afterbirth still attached.” She squeezed Daria’s shoulder. “We would like to talk with you about her, if you have a minute.”
    “Of course,” Father Macy said. He stepped back into his office. “Come right in.”
    They followed him into the small room. A massive desk stood in front of the one large window. It looked out toward the sound, and in the distance, the grand, golden dunes at Nag’s Head. The priest sat casually on the edge of his desk, and Daria and her mother sat in two armchairs on the opposite side of the room. Father Macy’s easygoing demeanor irritated her father, Daria knew. “He’s too informal,” he had said, and she doubted that the Norfolk priests ever sat on the edge of their desks. But Father Macy was very young; it was his third year being a priest and his second year at St. Esther’s. Even Daria thought he was handsome, with those large, brown eyes and long eyelashes. He had an easy laugh that made her feel relaxed around him.
    “So tell me more about this baby you found, Daria,” he said.
    “I was on the beach very early this morning to watch the sunrise and to beach-comb,” Daria said. “And I kicked over a horseshoe-crab shell, and underneath was the baby.” She didn’t want to tell him about the blood.
    “And obviously, it had been born quite recently?” He looked at Daria’s mother for confirmation, and she nodded.
    “Someone had simply given birth to her right there or very nearby, and left her to die,” Daria’s mother said.
    “My, my.” Father Macy looked gravely concerned. “Is the baby…alive?”
    “Yes, by the grace of God, she is,” she said. “She’s at the hospital in Elizabeth City. We just visited her and she’s doing well, and in a few days she should be able to go home. But she has no home, and that’s why I’m here.” Daria’s mother looked uncomfortable for the first time since they’d entered the priest’s office. She looked into her lap and played with the clasp of her purse, and Daria wished she would just get to the point.
    “My husband and I would like to adopt her,” she said finally. “That is, if no one claims her. And I was wondering if you could help with that. If you could intercede on our behalf.”
    Father Macy looked thoughtful. “Do you realize what a miracle this is?” he asked. “That Daria found this baby in time to save her? That the baby was found by someone who belongs to a family as devout, as holy and blessed as the Cato family?”
    For the second time that afternoon, Daria felt close to tears.
    “Yes,” her mother said softly. “Yes, we’re very aware that the Lord selected us.”
    “I’ll be in touch with the hospital,” Father Macy said, standing up. “And I’ll be in touch with the state adoption agency. I’ll do whatever I can to plead your case. I can think of no better home for that little one.”
    One week later, the baby arrived at the Sea Shanty, and became the instant celebrity of the neighborhood. Everyone from the cul-de-sac stopped by to stare at the little blond-haired infant and to shake their heads over her rude beginning in life. Daria’s mother named the infant Michelle, calling her Shelly for short. The irony of that name had seemed lost on everyone except Daria, who had delighted in how fitting a name it was.People often commented, though, on the other irony: that this tiny, blond, brown-eyed child was now part of the dark-haired, Greek Cato clan.
    All that summer, Daria’s