No River Too Wide (20 page)

Jan swallowed, because her throat was as dry and bitter as burnt toast. “You told your date all this?”

“He’s just a random guy, but he’s a good listener. It was like I was talking about people on Mars, though. He comes from this big happy family. You know how he tried to relate to what I was saying? He told me he used to be jealous of his younger brother who had asthma because he got out of every chore that involved dust or mold.”

Jan knew they were perilously close to talking about Buddy. But before she could steer the conversation in a different direction, Harmony did it for her. “We’re all under strain. I’m sorry.”

Jan rested her hand on her daughter’s knee. “Why should you be sorry? All this is part of who you are. And it’s hard not knowing what’s going on with everything. Wondering every time we see each other if somebody’s watching. It’s not exactly a happily ever after.”

“Mom, it’s a lot better than the alternative. Don’t think it’s not.”

Jan thought maybe that phrase ought to be her motto. For decades she had told herself that living with an abusive husband was, under the circumstances, better than the alternative. But how right had she been?

She changed the subject because what else could she say about that? “Let me tell you about your daughter’s day.”

By the time they finished their tea and caught up on their respective afternoons, the baby began to cry, and Harmony went into Jan’s room to get her.

“I think we’d better scoot,” she said when she came back with a fussing Lottie. “That was a nothing nap. I think she’s teething. Maybe she’ll sleep some more on the way home.”

Jan gathered up the supplies that Harmony had brought with her, but Harmony asked her to hold Lottie instead so she could put everything in the car herself. Being seen outside together was still a bad idea.

While Harmony packed, Jan danced around the living room with the baby, then at last she reluctantly handed her to her mother.

“I forgot to tell you one thing,” she told Harmony as they made the transfer. “I’m going to take a self-defense class at Taylor’s studio. I start next week.”

Harmony stopped fussing with Lottie’s dress. “Self-defense?” She waited a heartbeat; then she shrugged. “Too bad you didn’t get the nerve to do that years ago, huh?”

Jan realized that not knowing what to say to her daughter was becoming a habit. Yet nothing occurred to her. Not explanations Harmony already knew. Not excuses. Not reminders that she’d had no way to take classes and a husband who would have punished her for trying.

Harmony looked stricken. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

But what hadn’t she meant? While Jan had protected her daughter whenever she could, Harmony’s life had been blighted by confusion and fear. She still paid a heavy price for something she’d had no control over. Didn’t it make sense she would be lashing out now?

“Nobody knows better than I do how hard those years were for you,” Jan said.

“You and I need to get away from here and have some fun together.” Harmony’s eyes were moist, as if she was trying not to cry. “Do you know about the Goddess House?”

“Taylor mentioned it.”

“It’s up in the mountains. It’s so beautiful up there, quiet in a good way. I need to help Cristy—she’s the caretaker—take care of some of the garden produce. Let’s go up together. Can you get away tomorrow? I’ll see if that works for Cristy, and if one of the other goddesses wants to come. If so, she can pick you up. Taylor will probably be busy getting everything ready at the studio, but maybe Samantha. Or Georgia.”

They would be surrounded by other women. Strangers who didn’t know her. Jan suspected that was as much a part of her daughter’s strategy as anything else. Fun. Relaxation.

No chance to talk.

Jan didn’t know how to say no. They needed help, communication, closure so much more than they needed fresh country air, but how could she give her daughter those things?

She managed a smile. “Let’s see if we can work it out.”

Harmony shifted the baby to one hip. “Thank you so much for taking Lottie. It was wonderful to have you here to do it. Let’s just remember the wonderful and forget everything else, okay?”

Jan hugged and kissed them both; then she stood back as Harmony opened the door one final time.

More than anything, just as Harmony had said, she wanted to forget everything else. Sadly, she was afraid that no matter how hard they both tried, that was going to be impossible.

Chapter 16

From the audio journal of a forty-five-year-old woman, taped for the files of Moving On, an underground highway for abused women.

The Abuser had strong opinions on every subject, including the care and feeding of an infant. My son was a large baby, healthy and continually hungry. The Abuser put a stop to breast-feeding, convinced my milk wasn’t good enough, even though our pediatrician was pleased at how quickly the baby was growing.

The Abuser believed in schedules and never coddling little boys. I held our son too much. I paid too much attention to his crying. It was my fault he didn’t sleep through the night immediately, and my fault when the pediatrician discovered our son’s eyes were misaligned and he needed surgery.

At the same time the Abuser showed great interest in our baby. I would find him in the nursery, telling our sleeping child about his job and the fools he worked with. While he never rocked or fed him, he paid close attention to everything I did to make sure it was correct. After football season arrived I was delighted one evening to find the baby propped beside his father watching Kansas and Kansas State compete for the Governor’s Cup.

The kindness he had shown me faded away, but he was more careful not to injure me. I was his son’s caretaker. Like any beast of burden I needed to be well taken care of so I could give my best. Busy with my son and exhausted at day’s end when my husband demanded sex, I didn’t discover a suspicious hole in my diaphragm until I was pregnant for the second time.

The day he learned our second child was going to be a girl, the Abuser shoved me to the floor and kicked me.

* * *

Today Jan was wearing shorts, and although they were perfectly modest—not a single revelation that was better left to the imagination—she felt self-conscious. She had worn shorts frequently right into her marriage, but to Rex shorts and even capris were immodest. Both had slowly disappeared from her dresser drawers, destined for some mysterious burial ground of provocative clothing, along with sundresses, halter tops and skirts with hems above the knee.

With her new shorts she wore an Evolution T-shirt that Taylor had given her, and her newly cut hair just skimmed the neckline. Taylor’s stylist had angled it around her face and added wispy bangs, and the gray she had earned strand by strand was now disguised with henna. The young stylist had promised that the subtle red glow would flatter Jan’s complexion, and while she had doubted it, now she was glad she hadn’t argued. She looked like a different woman, one who thought she might deserve a place in the world, and that alone was worth the money.

Today both the shorts and the shorter hair were good ideas. Sunday had dawned bright and clear, as well as unseasonably hot. Before ascending the mountains to the Goddess House, Taylor had called Cristy Haviland to get a weather update. Cristy had advised shorts and bathing suits, and added that if they got too hot working in the garden, they might want to visit one of several swimming holes in the vicinity.

Despite Harmony’s prediction, Taylor and Maddie had been enthusiastic about making the trip. The Evolution Café wasn’t ready and wouldn’t be for two more weeks, but tomorrow the studio would open as planned with half a dozen core classes. More would be added as Taylor felt she had everything in place, but for now she thought she had done whatever was possible to prepare. She had welcomed a day of fun before the real work began.

Jan hoped the day would be fun, but the trip up the mountain on a narrow, winding road with nothing but a steep drop-off beside them hadn’t been a good start. She had stayed absolutely still and silent as they climbed, to be certain Taylor wasn’t distracted. Even now, when they had reached the top and the scenery was rural America at its most charming, she still didn’t feel comfortable. They passed a modern general store, a lovely chapel beside a stream and farmhouses. The stretches of land between were much greater than in her former neighborhood in Topeka, but the isolation here felt all too familiar.

“I think I’ve become a city girl,” she told Taylor, now that she felt free to talk again.

“Not a fan of open spaces?”

Jan didn’t say the obvious, that there was safety in numbers, which was why Rex had settled her in the middle of nowhere. “I spent too many years managing acres of grass. Living in the country is a lot of work.”

“Around here they call grass pasture or the hay field, and use it to feed their animals.”

“A better approach.”

“Cristy’s not a country girl, but she’s having a great time with the vegetable garden. It’s got a long way to go, but I think it was therapy for her.”

“Therapy?”

“She’s had a hard time. She went to jail for a crime she didn’t commit, and she came here afterward to heal and pull her life back together. As part of that she’s just learning to read. Cristy’s smart, but she’s also dyslexic and she never got the help she needed in school. One of the goddesses, Georgia, has been working with her, and she’s made amazing progress. She’s not tackling
War and Peace
this week, but the last time I talked to her she was inching through
Little House on the Prairie.
”

“And she likes being out here alone?”

“She’s not as alone as it seems. She’s made friends with the neighbors, and she cleans at a local B&B, plus the goddesses come up regularly. There’s a guy in the picture, too, from her old hometown, so I think her free time is happily spent.”

By now they had turned off the main road and were taking a narrow gravel driveway that climbed a hill. “This isn’t as bad as it sometimes is,” Taylor said. “We had it graded in late spring and new gravel added. You just have to drive slowly and admire the view.”

The view
was
admirable. Once they reached the clearing, Jan took her time getting out so she could enjoy it. Above the parking area a two-story log house looked down with windows like eyes that had seen centuries of foolishness but still remained open to record the continuing story. Terraces had been cut in the hillside and secured with ancient boulders. She recognized peonies, lilacs and forsythia, although none were in bloom. The fall here, when the leaves began to turn in a few weeks, would be spectacular, and she hoped she could come back to see it.

“This is my family home, the Sawyer Farm,” Taylor said as Maddie got out and sprinted up the path to the house, brown hair flying out behind her. “The farm came to my mother through her grandfather’s family. She grew up here with her grandmother and her father, who wasn’t good for much, apparently. They were dirt poor. Mom couldn’t wait to get away, so she left as soon as her grandmother died. At the end of her life she could finally see the house and the land with new eyes, and that’s why she left it to our small group of women and asked us to use it to help others.”

Jan had heard most of the story from Harmony, although she hadn’t realized the house had belonged to Taylor’s family. “The goddesses.”

“We’re multiplying. Cristy’s joined us, and Rilla was a natural. ‘Goddesses’ is just something we call ourselves, a reminder we’re supposed to practice mercy.”

“You certainly have. With me.”

Taylor looked surprised. “That’s the crazy part of this goddess thing. I don’t feel merciful, Jan. You’ve been such a huge help, and you’ll be an even bigger help once I’m at the studio at crazy hours. I don’t know what I did before you came to live with us.”

Jan gave her a spontaneous hug, and they were still laughing and hugging when Harmony’s car appeared. Jan broke away to wave at her daughter, then to help Taylor unload some things she had brought for the house: a new cutting board, half a dozen brightly colored dish towels and several sets of sheets.

Harmony parked beside them, and Jan went to help with Lottie.

“Did you just get here?” Harmony asked, handing the baby to her mother before she started to sort through bags to get anything she would need for the morning.

“I’m surprised we didn’t catch sight of you coming up the mountain behind us.”

“Maybe you and Taylor were too busy chatting.”

“Not coming up we weren’t. I couldn’t form a sentence. That road scared me to death.”

“It’s intimidating.” Harmony sounded as if her mind was elsewhere, and when she went back to digging through bags, Jan and Lottie started up toward the house.

A lovely young woman with curly blond hair was on her way down to meet them with a multicolored mutt who looked large enough to consume a bag of dog food every day. Clearly this was Cristy and an unidentified companion, and when they met in the middle Cristy greeted Jan and Lottie with a smile.

“Got anything you need help with?” she asked.

“We’ve got it.” Harmony came up behind Jan; then she leaned forward to kiss Cristy’s cheek before she introduced her to her mother.

“And this is Beau,” Cristy said. “Beau, show some manners.”

Beau promptly sat on Cristy’s foot and held out a paw to Jan.

Cristy yelped. “Shake fast before he breaks my toe.”

Jan did as instructed. The dog jumped up and ran the rest of the way down the path to see if anything had been left behind.

“And how are you?” Cristy asked Lottie, taking the little girl’s hand. “You look so happy in that dress. Did your mommy pick it out?”

Harmony answered for her daughter. “Her father has suddenly decided that all those Asheville children’s boutiques meant for visiting grandmothers were really meant for him. But it
is
cute, isn’t it?”

Jan had hardly paid attention to her granddaughter’s dress, but now she looked down. It
was
cute, a bright sky-blue with applique ducklings on the pocket and yoke. “He has good taste.”