Brides of Alaska (55 page)

August and Beth steadied each other. With Rita it was hard to tell what she might have in mind. Over the years they'd learned to take her declarations in stride and knew better than to try and anticipate what their daughter might say.

“Come and sit down,” Rita said, taking them to a small table. “There are only two chairs, so I'll sit on the bed.”

Her parents nodded and moved almost apprehensively to the chairs. Rita swallowed hard and tried to think of just the right words.

“I did a lot of thinking out on the trail,” she began. “I know the reports of my foolishness have already reached the papers and television, so I realize how worried you must have been. I want to apologize for not calling you, but I had to think through a great deal.”

August and Beth hung on their daughter's every word. They had worried about her. Worried that her stubborn pride would claim her life and remembered having to sit by and wait until news of their youngest confirmed that she was safe.

Rita paused for a moment. She still had a touch of pride that worried about her mother's reaction to her declaration of faith. If Beth reacted smugly, Rita just knew she'd run from the room. Steadying her nerves, Rita continued.

“Mark found me when I'd just about given up hope of going on. I'd lost the team and things looked pretty bad. I'd managed to make a windbreak by packing snow, but I knew I couldn't last long without my gear and the dogs. Then Mark showed up and everything turned around. That night we talked a lot and I came to be sorry for the problems my stubbornness and independence have caused.”

“What are you trying to say, Rita?” August asked.

Rita drew a deep breath. “I guess I'm trying to apologize for the way I've acted in the past. I gave up my pride and accepted Christ as my Savior.” She waited and watched Beth for the reaction she feared, but the only thing she saw were the tears in her mother's eyes.

August nodded. “That must have been the hardest decision you've ever made.”

Rita was amazed at the peace that settled over the room. She had been so sure of how her parents would respond that she'd literally spent hours deciding how she, herself, would react.

“It was,” Rita finally replied.

Beth wiped away the tears in her eyes but remained silent. Rita thought there was a gentler look to her mother. Was it Rita's decision to accept Christ that made her so? Or was Rita just truly seeing her mother for the first time?

A knock sounded at the door and Rita hesitantly answered it. There was still much more she wanted to say, especially to her mother. She didn't like the idea of an interruption.

“Yes?” she questioned the hotel employee who waited on the other side.

“Is Mr. Eriksson here?”

“Yes, I'm August Eriksson,” August said, coming to stand beside Rita.

“There's a gentleman in the lobby who wishes to speak to you. I believe he's a reporter,” the man responded.

August shrugged his shoulders. “Don't know what he'd want to talk to me about, but let's go. I'll be right back.”

Rita felt almost relieved that her father had something else to do. She had really wanted to talk to her mother in private. Closing the door behind her father, Rita went back to the table.

“I'm glad we'll have a few minutes alone,” Rita said, as she took the seat vacated by her father.

“You are?” Beth questioned in surprise.

Rita nodded. “I wanted to ask you to forgive the way I've treated you all these years. I know I was wrong and only acting on hurt and bitter feelings. It was wrong and, despite the fact that you never really wanted me, it wasn't fair to punish you the way I did.”

Beth looked as though the wind had been knocked from her. She sat with an expression of complete shock on her face. “What makes you say that I never wanted you?”

Rita felt the tears well in her eyes. “I overheard you. You told my sister that I was such a difficult child to get close to and figured it was your punishment. I heard you say that you never expected to have another child and, in fact, never wanted another child.”

Silence hung between the two women as Beth tried to rein in her emotions. “It's true I never planned to have another child after your brother, Edgar. He was, after all, nine years old when you were born.” Tears streamed down Beth's face. “I wish I could explain those words. No, I wish I could take them back,” Beth whispered.

Rita ached at the sight of her mother's brokenness. In the past, she'd thought on more than one occasion of throwing her mother's words in her face. Somehow, Rita thought it would offer satisfaction or compensation for the pain her mother had caused. Now, it just offered Rita grief and sorrow.

Rita started to speak, but Beth waved her off. “Please, let me finish,” she said. “I need to tell you all of it.”

Rita nodded and sat back, waiting for her mother to speak.

“I planned to finally spend time with your father,” Beth began. “I hoped to dogsled with him or to at least have more time to just be alone with him. We'd never known a time in our marriage when there weren't children and, after twenty-some years of marriage, I intended to get to know him better as a man and husband, rather than a father.

“I found out I was pregnant after thinking that I was going through the change. Mind you, I was happy to be going through the change. My days of having babies were through as far as I was concerned. So, just when I had resigned myself to move into another stage of womanhood, I found that nothing had changed at all. I was pregnant after a nine-year break and it was devastating.”

Rita tried to hide the hurt she felt, but she couldn't. Her eyes betrayed her misery, and Beth suddenly realized why all those years had been lost between mother and daughter.

“The story doesn't stop there, however,” Beth continued. “I hadn't realized how much I'd distanced myself from you until one day your oldest sister was remarking on the crescent-shaped birthmark you had on your upper thigh. It was like a slap in the face. You were a year old and I didn't even realize you had a birthmark. Suddenly, I started to understand that I'd pretty much given you over to your sisters. They saw you as a chore and not a new baby to play with. They fed you, made clothes for you, changed you, and I surrounded myself in the pretense that I was busy with one project or another and that the experience was good for them.

“Little by little you worked your way into my heart,” Beth said with a sad smile. “I found myself watching you. You were such a good baby. So quiet and content. I never had to listen to you fuss and you were never sick. By the time you were a toddler and then old enough for school, I'd come to love you quite dearly. But the damage, of course, was done. You and I hardly knew each other. For the rest of your life, try as I might, I could never say the right thing or do enough to make it up to you. You never gave me an inch, and I can't really blame you. I didn't deserve an inch.” Beth fell silent, trying to determine just how she would say what needed to be said.

Rita cried openly and remembered the lonely little girl who longed for a mother's comfort and instead found disinterested siblings at her side.

“I am so sorry, Rita,” Beth sobbed. “I don't deserve for you to forgive me, but I love you so much and I can only beg for you to give me the mercy that I didn't show you.”

Rita moved her chair back and stood up. Holding her arms out, she whimpered like a tiny, hurt child, “Momma, I love you!”

Beth threw herself into the arms of her child. The years of pain were cast aside as if they were old, useless coats in springtime warmth. The two women cried long and hard in each other's embrace. Fearful of letting go. Not wanting the moment to pass.

When their tears subsided, Rita was the first to speak.

“I could never understand what I'd done so wrong that no one loved me or wanted me around. I used to lie in bed and one minute I would think of horrible, awful things that I wanted to happen so that I would have my revenge. And the next minute, I'd push it all aside, knowing that I'd gladly give anything I owned to feel loved by you.”

“How you must have suffered,” Beth whispered. “I can never take that back. I can never make it up to you.”

“You don't have to,” Rita said, feeling the weight of her misery lifted. “I know now that if I forgive you, then I must let go of the past. That little girl is grown now and we have a future together. Dad told me that his only real worry about leaving this world was that you and I would be alone. Now we can be there for each other. We can start all over.”

Beth took hold of her daughter's hands. “I'd like that, Rita. I'd like a chance to put the ugliness aside and start fresh.”

“Then that's what we'll do,” Rita said and embraced her mother again.

Neither of the women heard August when he returned. When they pulled away laughing, he was there by the door with tears in his eyes.

“Daddy!” Rita exclaimed and held her arms open to him.

August crossed the room, hugging both Beth and Rita to him. “Dare I hope that this means you two have put aside the past?”

“Better than that,” Beth replied. “We finally understand the past between us and we're going to forgive it and forget it. Aren't we, Rita?” She looked into her daughter's dark eyes. Eyes so much like her father's that Beth never failed to see August when she saw Rita.

Rita smiled. “We sure are. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

“Does that mean you'll move back home?” August asked.

“I don't know. I want to get on with my nursing career, but I've come to realize after being home this last year that I don't belong here in Anchorage. I think I'd like to settle down in Tok for a while. Of course, it will all depend on finding a job.”

“I'm sure you could work for one of the local doctors,” August suggested. “We'd love to have you back home, and that way you and your mom could spend more time together.”

“Mom isn't my only concern,” Rita said gravely.

“What is it, Rita?” Beth asked in a worried tone.

Rita pulled away from her parents and went back to the table where she slumped into the chair. “It's Mark.”

“What about him?” her parents asked in unison.

“I don't know where to begin,” Rita said honestly.

August sat on the bed, while Beth joined her daughter at the table. “Just tell us what's wrong,” August said.

“I'd love to,” Rita admitted. “But I'm not exactly sure what really is wrong.”

“Is Mark the reason you don't want to move home?” Beth questioned.

“Yes and no,” Rita replied. “Mark told me he loved me and asked me to marry him.”

Beth and August exchanged a smile. They thought Mark would make a fine choice for their daughter and didn't hide their obvious pleasure.

“How do you feel about Mark?” Beth asked.

“That's my real dilemma. I know I love him. I just don't know that I'm ready to get married. Allowing people to get close to me is something I'm not very good at. I'm not sure I could do justice to Mark's love.” Rita's voice was shaky as she continued. “I guess I'm afraid.”

Beth reached out and patted Rita's hand. “Committing yourself in marriage is something you should be very sure of. I will tell you this much, however. Most everyone is afraid of the magnitude of marriage.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” Rita questioned. “I mean, I do love him and I don't want to lose him—”

“Why not give Mark credit?” August interjected. “He knows his own heart and he's a good solid thinker. Why not share your apprehension with him and take it one step at a time. I have a feeling Mark will know how to handle the situation.”

Rita raised her eyes to her father. “Do you think he will think less of me for my confusion?”

“I don't think it's possible for Mark to think less of you,” August answered with a laugh. “He's got it bad for you, Rita. I think if you told him to walk to the moon and back, he'd do it.”

“But don't take advantage of him,” Beth added. “He's a good man and he deserves to be dealt with in an honest manner. Just talk to him, Rita. If you still have any doubts, work through them and take your time. And Rita,” Beth paused, almost fearful of her next suggestion. “Pray about it. Spend a great deal of time in prayer, and I will, too.”

Rita nodded. “Of course,” she whispered. “I should have thought of that, first thing. Trusting God is something else new to me. I guess I have a lot to learn.”

“Don't worry,” August said. “God understands all of that and He'll guide you through. Just trust Him for direction, Rita, and when you're afraid, trust Him even more.”

Rita couldn't help but smile. “Mark told me about the verse in Psalm 56 that says, ‘When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.' It seems like a most appropriate verse for me.”

R
ita stayed with friends in Anchorage until May. She felt that she needed the time away from everyone in order to sort through her conflicting emotions. She had mailed Mark a brief, but poignant letter that offered no promises but allowed a glimpse of her true feelings for him.

She mostly spent the time in prayer and searching however. She had determined that it would be foolish to move to Tok without a job. Because of that, Rita gave it over to God and mailed her résumé to all of the area doctors in the small town.

“If God wants me in Tok,” Rita had proclaimed, “He will provide me the means to support myself.”

When a job offer came at the end of April, Rita was nearly stunned by her answered prayer.

“It was what I prayed for,” Rita admitted to her mother on the telephone. “I guess I'm still so new at this that I didn't really expect an answer.”

“Well, I have another answer for you,” Beth replied. “Your father has built a small cabin for you about fifteen minutes away. It's closer to Tok than our place, but close enough to home that you could just hike over if you were of a mind to.”