Where Yesterday Lives (7 page)

Ellen smiled at the memory. There were no words to describe the depth of love they had shared physically and emotionally. They believed God was rewarding them for their obedience, and in those early years it seemed the honeymoon would never end.

Ellen ran her fingers over the words she had written and flipped through the pages of the journal. Mike had been so strong in his faith back then, so sure. Now it had been years since he had talked to her about his love for God…months since they had even discussed going to church.

Mike wasn’t the only one to blame. She remembered a line from Psalm 51:
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
. Where was that joy now? She closed her eyes and felt the sting of tears. She and Mike were a mess, her father was gone forever, and everything that was ever good about life had changed. The Lord seemed a million miles away.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Ellen stretched her legs and reached across the bed for the receiver.

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me.”

Jane sounded annoyed, and Ellen braced herself. Her sister had called twice already that weekend to make sure of Ellen’s arrival time in Detroit and to report that the other family members were not doing well.

“I think we should have gone today instead of Sunday. You
know, I wanted to switch to Saturday, but you and Mom said to wait until Sunday I think it’s a waste of time.”

“It’s the best we can do, I guess.” Ellen stared out her bedroom window at the deep blue-green of the Atlantic Ocean. They were two blocks away from the beach and she never got tired of the view.

Jane was silent for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ellen rolled her eyes. Jane had become so testy lately almost anything set her off.

“Nothing, Jane. I’m just saying we’ll be there soon enough. I’m not exactly looking forward to this week.”

“All you ever think about is yourself, Ellen. I mean it. That’s the trouble with you. The world doesn’t revolve around what you want. Mom needs us there.”

“I know.” Ellen tried to keep the fatigue out of her voice, and failed. “Forget it, Jane. Forget I said anything. You’re right. We should have gone today instead of tomorrow. Will you forgive me?”

Jane released a short burst of air. “Whatever.”

In the uneasy silence that followed, Ellen struggled, wondering what she could say to ease the tension between them. The last thing she needed was to spend a week in Petoskey fighting with Jane. She’d rather not go. Her mind grasped for something neutral to say. “Well, I still have a bunch of things to pack.”

Silence.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Silence.

“Have a safe flight.”

Jane sighed loudly. “Sure, whatever. See you later.”

Ellen hung up the phone and leaned back against her pillows. She remembered how it had been when she and Jane
were kids, before they graduated from high school. They had shared a room together, giggling about the boys they knew and telling each other a hundred different secrets. Regardless of their disagreements during the day, each night before falling asleep they would whisper the same words to each other.

“Good night, Jane. Love you. See you in the morning.”

“Good night, Ellen. Love you. See you in the morning.”

Ellen’s eyes burned at the memory. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d said those words.

She thought of the others then…Megan, Amy, and Aaron. The five of them had been so close as children. Eventually she and Mike had distanced themselves from her family by moving to Miami. Now Jane was angry most of the time; sweet Megan was twenty-seven and had gotten involved with an abusive, controlling drug dealer; twenty-five-year-old Amy was busy with her own life and never called or wrote to the others; and Aaron, at twenty-four, was unemployable because of a temper so fierce most people were afraid of him.

More than a decade had passed since the Barretts had lived under one roof. Gradually the family had stopped attending Mass regularly, and eventually Ellen’s faith had led her away from the Catholic church. Now even that seemed like a lifetime ago. Ellen wished she could remember when they had stopped being the family everyone else envied.

Saturday passed slowly so that by early Sunday Ellen was packed and anxious to leave.

“Have a safe flight,” Mike said, pecking her on the cheek as he glanced at his watch.

“Right.” Ellen’s voice was flat and she refused to look at him.

“Ellen.” Mike placed his hand gently underneath her chin and tilted her face toward his. “I love you. Don’t let yourself get confused about that just because your’ dad is gone.”

“If you loved me you’d make an effort for me.” Ellen’s eyes were dry. She was emotionally drained and the week hadn’t even started. “I told you I wanted you with me this week. It was important to me, Mike.”

“We’ve been through this before. I can’t get the time off and you know that. You knew that when you married me.”

“If it was important to you, you’d get the time off.”

Mike drew a deep breath. “Anyway, have a safe flight. I do love you and I’ll call you in a few days to see how it’s going.”

Ellen waited until his car disappeared down their street. Then she reached for the telephone and called a taxi. Twenty minutes later the cab pulled up out front.

Grabbing her suitcase, she studied the picture of Mike and her over the fireplace, then headed for the door.

The taxi made its way through the city toward the airport, and again Ellen caught herself swimming in a sea of memories. Like scenes from a movie, flashbacks from her childhood filled her mind and it was all she could do to stop them.

She looked at her watch. Her flight was scheduled to leave at 10:30. She would travel three hours nonstop and land in Detroit just before two o’clock. Jane’s plane would arrive twenty minutes later. Megan had arranged to pick them both up and drive them back to the house, four hours north of the city.

The taxi swung into the airport and pulled up along the curb in the area designated for passenger unloading. Ellen moved slowly as she paid the driver and checked her bags with the airline. She wore a simple navy rayon dress that fell nearly to her matching pumps. Her hair was pulled back from her face, tied in a navy silk scarf, and she wore round, dark
rimmed sunglasses that covered nearly half her face. With a lifetime of memories threatening to break free at any moment, she had no room for casual conversation on the flight. Regardless of the people around her, she intended to be alone. The glasses would stay.

“When can we board?” she asked a flight attendant at the gate.

“Go ahead and board now if you’d like.”

Ellen made her way down one of the narrow aisles of the Boeing 747, relieved to see that she had a window seat. Three hours alone in the sky. Maybe that would help make sense of her feelings. She sat down, slid the window shade up as far as it would go, and stared at the airline personnel working like so many cogs in a machine to prepare the airplane for takeoff. Ellen wondered if any of them had adult siblings who no longer liked them.

She took a deep breath and realized how tired she was. Because of her early flight she had gotten up at five-thirty. She leaned back, and in less than a minute she was asleep.

“Excuse, me.” The flight attendant’s voice woke Ellen instantly. “We’re about to serve breakfast. I thought you might like to know.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Ellen straightened herself and looked out the window, amazed she had slept through takeoff. She studied the ground below and saw they had nearly crossed the Florida peninsula and were headed for the long journey north across the states. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she gazed upward into the endless blue sky. She couldn’t have been sleeping long, but she had been having the strangest dream….

Jake Sadler had been beside her on the plane holding her hand, but instead of being in their early thirties they were teenagers as they had been when they were in love so long ago.

She smiled and closed her eyes. Jake Sadler. She could see his dark brown hair, his tan face, and laughing deep, blue eyes. It felt good to remember him. As she had the day before, she wondered what he was doing, what life had dealt him.

Somewhere, deep inside her, she felt a tug. A nudging. She frowned. Almost a warning. A verse drifted into her mind:
Do not let your heart grow hard to the Spirit’s voice…
.

Ellen shut her eyes and drew a deep breath. Why on earth had she thought of that verse? She was so tired, she was making no sense at all. There was nothing about her actions or thoughts that need concern her in the least. All she was doing was remembering the past…wondering what had happened to an old friend….

And what life would have been like if somehow they’d stayed together.

J
ane Barrett Hudson was at home when she received the news that her father had died from a massive heart attack. As was often the case, her husband, Troy, a marketing executive, was away on business. Jane had been forced to deal with an array of feelings while changing diapers, preparing snacks, and wiping runny noses.

Koley, her six-year-old, was astute enough to understand that his mother was distracted. But three-year-old Kala, and Kyle, who was barely one, remained demanding as ever, unaware of their mother’s emotional state.

Because of the children Jane did not immediately have a chance to break down and grieve her father’s death. This was not entirely a bad thing because among the emotions that had assaulted Jane since she’d heard the news was one that definitely was not grief.

She was frustrated that her father had not taken better care of himself, angry that he had left their mother alone, and annoyed about having to leave her small, central Arizona town to spend a week in Petoskey pretending to be grief stricken. But the emotion she struggled with most of all, the one she knew she would have to hide if she was to survive the trip to northern Michigan, was her indifference.

Certainly none of the other adult Barrett children would be indifferent in the wake of their father’s death and they would not understand Jane’s reasons for feeling so. Therefore, Jane knew she would have to work through her feelings by herself.
She was well aware that indifference over the death of her own father was not normal.

I’ll be guilty the rest of my life for feeling this way. If only Troy were home. He would know what to say to help me through this
.

When Saturday night arrived, Jane sat stiffly in a worn-out recliner, rocking out an anxious rhythm as she waited for her husband’s arrival. Nearly two days had passed and she still had not shed so much as a tear.

“Get home, Troy,” she whispered. “Please, get home.”

Gradually her rocking slowed and her mind wandered as she stared into a blur of yesterdays. Her entire life had been wonderful because of Troy.

The rocker came to a stop and suddenly Jane was no longer in the living room of her Arizona home. She was two thousand miles away in Petoskey, Michigan, working at the Pizza Parlor, meeting Troy Hudson for the first time.

The Pizza Parlor was a noisy restaurant filled with miniature carnival rides, flashing lights, and children’s music. While customers ate pizza, a gigantic costumed mouse paraded through the dining area delighting children and adults alike. Every weekend the place handled dozens of children’s birthday parties, each of which was conducted by a teenage party host or hostess. Parents left generous tips in return for having someone else manage their children’s parties.

Jane met Troy one afternoon at the end of her first week of work. Noise was so much a part of the Pizza Parlor that by then Jane no longer heard it. The tips weren’t half what she’d expected and she was in the middle of what seemed like a nightmare birthday party. The birthday boy was a six-year-old monster who screamed at his mother and pinched his party guests. He grabbed pizza off other people’s plates and threw a tantrum when he didn’t get his own way. He was finally opening
presents, and Jane couldn’t wait for the day to be over.

“Yuck!” the child shouted as he ripped open another carefully wrapped gift. “More books. I
hate
books!”

“Joey! Be nice to your friends.” The child’s mother was embarrassed but she clearly had no control over the boy “Say thank you, Joey”

“No!”

And so it went until Jane thought the party would never end. She was about to rip off her badge and leave without looking back when a large, furry hand tapped her on the shoulder.

Jane whipped around and saw a six-foot mouse standing before her.

“Lucky!” She forced herself to sound excited. “Okay, everyone. Look over here. Lucky’s come to wish little Joey a happy birthday.”

Lucky bent into a sweeping bow and took Jane’s hand in his, bringing it to his oversized head in a mock kiss. The children giggled.

“Come on, Lucky” Jane pulled the creature’s synthetic paw toward Joey “Come meet the birthday boy.”

The mouse nodded enthusiastically and allowed Jane to lead him to the child.

Joey stood up, looked Lucky up and down, and kicked the mouse on his fur-covered shin.

“You’re a fake!” The boy turned to his mother. “You said Lucky was a
real
mouse. I want a real mouse, Mommy!”

“Joey! That’s not nice!” His mother was mortified.

The child swung his leg and kicked Lucky harder than before. “I don’t care! I hate that stupid mouse! He’s a fake!”

Jane expected the mouse to walk away before he got kicked again. Instead, the creature patted Joey on the head several times—Jane noticed the pats were a bit more…
enthusiastic
than normal.

Joey yelped, but the noise was so great no one heard him.

Lucky pretended to see someone across the dining room and he waved excitedly Then he headed in that direction, effectively bumping little Joey out of the way

“Mommmm! That mouse knocked into me!”

Again no one heard the boy’s cry

“Better watch out!” Joey shouted in Lucky’s direction. “Or I’ll kick you again.”

Jane giggled secretly as the mouse turned around and came back toward Joey. As he did, he bumped once more into the child, as he pretended to look for someone. Several seconds passed before he shrugged and headed back across the diner.