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Mercy's Song

By Sarah Hanks

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Prologue

December 11th, 2010, Crawford County, Nebraska

A newborn wail permeated the hospital room, eliciting
the response of everyone within earshot.

Well, nearly everyone.

Brandon stood, but Bethany beat him to the bassinet and
scooped the baby up, shushing her sweetly.

Next to Bethany hovered Natassa’s sister Olivia. She
stroked silky newborn wisps of hair.

Even Laura inched to the edge of her chair as if she, too,
wanted to cuddle the new life before her. Though she hadn’t
come to the baby shower, Brandon’s sister-in-law showed up
at the hospital with a balloon in hand two hours after Natassa
gave birth.

Only Natassa’s mother sat ramrod straight in the corner of
the room, unmoved by the commotion surrounding her
granddaughter. She looked as if she wished to bolt but
invisible chains bound her to the chair. Hours before, at the
baby shower, a twinge of hope sprung up inside Natassa as her
mother laid a hand on her and at least assented to Bethany’s
prayer for her and her child.

Natassa shook her head, still trying to take it all in. Once
her water broke at the gathering, they had to rush to get to the
hospital on time.

When Mercy came, she came swiftly.

“You’re sure they said everything’s okay?” Natassa put a
hand on Brandon’s arm, his flannel shirt soft beneath her
touch.

“Sweetheart, relax. She’s fine. Perfect Apgar score.
Perfect birth. Perfect baby.” He kissed her forehead. “Perfect
wife.”

“It’s just … none of our others came early.”

“Three weeks isn’t that early, babe.”
Natassa was about to seek further reassurance when the
sound of Bethany singing stole her attention.
Mercy. Sweet mercy.
Good Lord, we need Your mercy.
Every morning. Every morning.
Your mercies are new.

Bethany swayed back and forth holding Mercy,
serenading her.

“Hey.” Natassa couldn’t stop herself from interrupting.

“That’s the song from the journal. From Mercy’s Journal. Is
that how it goes?”

“Shoot, sugar. I don’t have a clue how the tune’s supposed
to go. I just done made one up to go along with the words and
that suits me fine. Looks like it suits your Mercy girl fine too.”
Bethany continued to rock the newborn.

A soft knock sounded at the door and Maureen and
Charles dragged themselves into the room, their faces somber
as if they came to a funeral instead of a birth.

“Hi, little sister.” Maureen strode over to Natassa and
stooped over her hospital bed. “Sorry I couldn’t make the
shower. Work stuff. But here.” She thrust a small pink gift bag
in Natassa’s general direction.

Brandon took it and put it with the others.

“Thanks for coming, Maureen.” Natassa gripped her
sister’s hand.

Natassa’s mom popped up and enveloped Maureen in a
hug, nearly clinging to her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Misery loves company,” Brandon whispered in
Natassa’s ear.

She snickered.

“Here, Grandma.” Bethany slipped Mercy into Natassa’s
mother’s arms. “Why don’t you hold your grandbaby for a
while?” She stepped back.

Mercy whimpered.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby.” Natassa’s mother’s voice
sounded soft yet laced with discomfort. “Look, Maureen. It’s
not that bad. The baby doesn’t even hardly look black at all,
thank God.”

Natassa catapulted up, her wide eyes searching Bethany’s
expression. “Mom!”

“What?”

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Like what? Do you want a black baby, Natassa?
Sweetheart, come on. Use common sense. I know you like
hanging around all those … people down there in the city, but
you’re not black. You’re white as they come. Stop trying to be
something you’re not.”

“Brandon …” Natassa whispered through clenched teeth,
her eyes pleading.

“What’s that, babe? You’re hungry? I’m sure you’re sick
of this hospital food. How about your mom and Maureen go
and find you something better to eat, and I’ll go ahead and hold
Mercy for a while. Sound good?”

Natassa mouthed “Thank you,” and Brandon stood and
took Mercy into his arms.

Natassa’s mom jammed her hands on her hips. “I don’t
think there’s any decent food in this building. We might have
to drive for miles.”

“If that’s what it takes, I’m sure it will be worth the wait.
Right, babe?”

Natassa nodded, but the women looked unconvinced.

“Hey, Chicka, sorry it took me so long to make it back
here.” Breanna breezed into the room, out of breath and with
a bag dangling on her arm.

“Breanna,” Natassa brightened. “I’m so glad you’re
back.”

“Do you realize how difficult it is to find a huge blue bow?
For a baby, I mean. Pink ones, I could have bought her a dozen
pink ones. Or purple. But blue? I’m surprised she’s not
walking yet with as long as that took me.”

Breanna dug into the gift bag, plucked out a bag of
M&Ms, and tossed it on Natassa’s lap. “That’s for Mama.”

Natassa snorted. “Thanks.”

“She needs something more nutritious than that,”
Natassa’s mom interjected from across the room.

“Now you, little missy.” Breanna knelt beside Brandon.
“Or should I say little Mercy. You had better like bows ’cause
your mommy has a thing for them. And I hope you like blue
because it’s your mommy’s favorite color.” Breanna plucked
the bow out of the bag, ripped off the tag, and gently placed it
on Mercy’s head. It slumped over one eye.

“It’s too big.” Natassa’s mother huffed.

Bethany chuckled. “She’ll grow into it.” She turned and
smiled at Natassa, then gestured around the hospital room.
“This whole thing done feel like it’s too big for the lot of you,
but you’se gonna grow into it. Trust me. Wait and see.”

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