Sarah's Child

By Karen Hansen

Clair finds her life turned upside down after a drastic series of events, her divorce, her Uncle Georges death, and her decision to transfer to a vineyard, which she inherited a portion of. While she settles in her new life, she discovers mysterious letters of her ancestors, which reveal family secrets. As Clair questions the true nature of her lineage, she embarks on a journey to solve the mystery of her heritage and faces the possibility of having an incurable disease.

A moving and stirring story of a womans quest for love, life, and family, Karen Hansen creatively weaves a rich tapestry of emotions as Clair seeks Sarahs Child. This thought provoking tale reveals how life can change in an instant and how important it is to know ones lineage. As Clair seeks to solve the mystery of her identity, will she discover a devastating truth that comes with being Sarahs child? Buy a copy of this intriguing read and find out as the mystery unravels!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 28, 2006
• ISBN: 9781462822522

Karen Hansen

Karen Hansen was born in Michigan, where she lived most of her life. She was a business and technical writer for most of her career. She lived in Southern California for several years and now makes her home in Palm Springs. This is her third published novel. Other books by Karen Hansen: Katherine’s Story (1995), and Earthwalk (2001).

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Copyright © 2006 by Karen Hansen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

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without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

To my daughter, Kristen, with much love and affection.

AND GOD SAID UNTO ABRAHAM, ‘AS FOR SARAI THY WIFE, THOU SHALT NOT CALL HER NAME SARAI, BUT SARAH SHALL HER NAME BE AND I WILL BLESS HER, AND GIVE THEE A SON ALSO OF HER; YEA, I WILL BLESS HER, AND SHE SHALL BE A MOTHER OF NATIONS; KINGS OF PEOPLE SHALL BE OF HER.’

GENESIS 17:15-16

AND SARAH SAID, ‘GOD HATH MADE ME TO LAUGH, SO THAT ALL THAT HEAR WILL LAUGH WITH ME.’ AND SHE SAID, ‘WHO WOULD HAVE SAID UNTO ABRAHAM, THAT SARAH SHOULD HAVE GIVEN CHILDREN SUCK? FOR I HAVE BORN HIM A SON IN HIS OLD AGE.’

GENESIS 21:6-7

CHAPTER ONE

Detroit, Michigan—1995

Another gray day, another winter sunset, another lonely night. What was left of a yellow sun peaking through the dark sky, cast a pattern of shadows on the icy river below and swept across the horizon, loosing itself in the darkness of night coming toward the river. Upstream the lights of a large freighter shined brightly as it approached the mouth of the river from the lake. To the left the lights of the city meet the water’s edge at the plaza below the building. To the right the river empties into Lake Erie bringing with it loose pieces of ice floating down the river, where another freighter begins its long sojourn to the Great Lakes through the undulating Detroit River.

Across the river the nexus of the horizon becomes lost as the earth and the sky unite. The wide flat terrain of Ontario is swallowed by the darkness and the day ends.

Clair stands ever so still watching the quiet motion beyond her window and a vision of a face reflects back at her through the glass. It is her face, but the likes of which she has not seen before. There was sadness in those eyes, the eyes that had lost their sparkle months before, the eyes that had once seen life so much brighter than it is now, will not see life the same again.

The windows from her apartment on the eighteenth floor provide a panoramic wonder and she wishes there was someone there standing next to her, watching the freighter go by with swift motion. This one is carrying steel and it is from Pennsylvania. She studies them all and begins to recognize them and knows what cargo they carry. She knows where they are from by the colors on their smokestack. All this wisdom of the waterways became a new past time since Clair moved into the apartment six months prior, after her divorce. The pity of it all is that David had moved on to the next part of his life, while she was left in his wake, much like the small boats following the freighter. She is stuck, it seems, and doesn’t know how to move forward. "How does one do it", she wondered. "After so many years with one person, how does one just begin a new?"

David’s news of a lengthy affair caught her by surprise and she was still recovering. She still heard his words as she did when he told her he was in love with another woman. . . . I never wanted this to happen, and God knows, I never wanted to hurt you, but it just happened. She struggled with this explanation and concluded that the word just was not part of the configuration and this doesn’t happen unless a person lets it happen. Lucky David, he already had a plan. He was way ahead of her even at that very moment when he told her he wanted a divorce. He had thought it all out. This was his advantage. She couldn’t even think beyond that night when he decided it was time to tell her about his affair, and in doing so probably to finally rid himself of guilt, destroy their marriage and her faith in him and leave her devistated. It seemed as though she felt trapped in the quagmire of her despair. Her attempt at a plan was still way off in the future. First one needs to heal and then one moves ahead. This is what her friends told her over and over. Clair, you will be fine. Just give yourself time. You’ll see. You’ll be fine.

Clair didn’t feel very fine, but she knew she would be one day, but when would that finally happen? She was eager for that morning when she would someday wake up and feel that she was fine, that she was over it, and that she was motivated to move on. That had not yet happened. In fact, it seemed that everything was getting worse. She had an active career in an advertising agency as an account executive, a job she came to love. For years she lived for her work, but now she had the feeling of complacency and found herself staring into space, just letting her mind wander and feeling empty. Her thoughts were only of her unhappiness and she found herself angry and miserable with the rage inside her. She could not understand how David could have done this to her. She thought about all the years he took from her, and making the decision that they should not have children, and now she was alone. His plan was that they enjoy an early retirement and perhaps travel, and now she also faced life totally alone. "How could he have let me down like this?" She kept asking herself these questions and it seemed that until she could somehow justify his actions, or make some sense out of it, her thoughts would continue to nag at her. Unless she could release her questioning and just come to terms with it, she could not move forward out of her gloom.

There seemed to be no motivation to make her move on. Clair felt that perhaps she would never love again and maybe the chance for one more meaningful relationship was gone. She was in her early fifties and she reconciled herself to the thought that opportunities would be few at her age. She truly felt life had passed her by. All those years invested in one person and the hopes for their continued life together seemed as if it was all for nothing. She recalled all their conversations about their future plans, his promises to her and her feeling of comfort knowing he would always be there for her and their future was sealed. Now it was as if the important pages of a book had been ripped out and all that was left was the beginning and the end and without the middle chapters, the beginning and end had no purpose or meaning. Her reaction first became desperate and she was determined to lash back and jumpstart her life, perhaps take a trip, throw herself at another man, but soon the reality of her situation stiffled all her positive thoughts and she knew it would be a long lonely recovery. Alone was not what she wanted. There was too much of being alone. She felt the apartment was too big, too many rooms and she was sorry she moved into it now and questioned why she thought she needed such a big kitchen. She only had herself to cook for, and most of the time she didn’t bother.

Clair fell into the tedious pattern of getting up, skip the coffee, "why make it for just me? I’ll pick something up at the cafe downstairs." Drive to work, park the car, put in the eight hours at her office, then the dreaded evening faced her again. What to do for dinner? Pick something up again, or microwave another paper carton from the freezer, drink a glass of wine in front of the window, watching the river with the network news on the TV in the other room. Put on some music, take a long bath, read a book without concentrating, go to bed out of boredom, not because she’s tired. Tomorrow she will do it again, and again the next day, and then the weekend would come and there she was, turning down lunch dates with woman friends. Maybe it’s best to let them think I’m seeing someone. Everyone has advice and all too eager to tell her how to get through this. Go out and meet someone new. I could introduce you to someone. She knew she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t interested. She couldn’t try to be charming or interesting. She was too bitter, too damaged. She would be bad company and they would hate her. Why bother? All of these questions and discussions ran through her head endlessly. She concluded that she needed to get through this alone, in her own way, in her own time.

As would always be the way, as soon as she stepped into the hot bath and sank deep into the sudsy water, the telephone rang. Let it ring. Who would it be anyway? Who do I need to talk to? It’s probably Shelly still trying to convince me to meet her for lunch Saturday. She won’t take no for an answer. Probably a good thing that she’s persistent. Shows she cares. I’ll let the machine pick it up. She listened for the message coming over the machine in her bedroom.

Clair, this is Helen. I just wanted to let you know that your uncle George passed away this morning. I thought you might want to know. It was a heart attack and your cousin Steve found him. Call me if you get a chance, will you dear? Sorry to leave you this kind of a message, but I don’t know when it would be a good time to get hold of you. Good night, dear.

George was her father’s brother and Helen was their sister, who lived in Northern California, where many of Clair’s relatives lived. Her family was large and spread out, and she hadn’t seen George or her cousins in several years, but she had fond memories of him and the rest of her relations in California. She used to go visit them when she was a young girl and spent many summers with them in Mendocino.

She sat in the tub for a while thinking about George and felt sad. She wasn’t particularly close to this side of the family any more, but for no reason other than the path her life took. She met David in Chicago where she grew up and later after they married, they moved to Detroit for his work. She eventually found a job and they made the city their home for many years. Now David was remarrying and moving to Los Angeles with his job, and there she was in Detroit, with only friends. She asked herself if her job was enough to keep her in Detroit. Her parents were both deceased and there was no reason to return to Chicago. Everything in Detroit was a reminder of her life with David. Everything she used to enjoy about the city was now just a reminder of her sadness and pain. How would she ever recover with all those reminders around her?

The funeral was scheduled for Saturday in San Francisco. Clair resigned herself to not go, but would instead send flowers. The next evening she sat in her apartment looking at the river and thought about the funeral. All the relatives she hadn’t seen for so long, her cousins and their children and grandchildren, would all be there, and she thought maybe she should go. It would be a good opportunity to see them all again. What other time is there to bring a family together, other than funerals or weddings? She booked a flight and left Friday night for San Francisco.

San Francisco

Clair felt she did the right thing, and even though the circumstances were sad, she was happy to see her relatives and old family friends. It had been much too long. After the funeral, the family went to her Aunt Helen’s house and she finally had an opportunity to talk to each one. With each encounter she found it easier to say she was now divorced, when asked of David’s whereabouts. How incredible that even his memory had to accompany her here, as everyone asked about him. One day she would meet people that never heard of David and she wouldn’t have to talk about him or explain his absence. One day all her friends would be aware of