Words Unspoken (46 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Musser

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BOOK: Words Unspoken
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SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7
LATE MORNING

Atlanta’s weather did strange things in November, like the sun shining almost seventy degrees on the city.

Lin Su insisted that they take the kids to the newly renovated Zoo Atlanta. “I’ll fix us a picnic. It will be perfect.”

Ted could not get a word out. He simply complied, following her instructions the way Sammy’s Duplo figurines obeyed their pint-sized master.

Don’t panic, Ted. You’ll find the right time to tell her. Don’t panic.

“Well, I told the girls!” Lin Su announced happily as she pushed LeeAnne’s stroller by the tigers’ territory. “I told them everything about the Million Dollar Club and China, and they are so excited for me! I think they are secretly jealous too, but that’s okay with me. They’ve had fancy trips of their own.”

Ted swallowed hard and unconsciously gripped little Sammy’s hand too tightly.

“Ouch, Daddy! That hurts!”

“Sorry, buddy.”

Lin Su glanced over at him. “Anything wrong? You’re mighty quiet this morning.”

He gave her a weak smile and cleared his throat. “Just tired,” he said, but it sounded stiff.

How was he going to tell her?

Uh, you see, Lin Su, there is actually a little problem. Nothing much to worry about. It’s just that I’ve done some illegal trading, and to top that I’ve lost about a million bucks for my two biggest clients. And then there’s the little fact that the manager and company found out and called me in. No big deal. Really. Basically I’ll be going before the arbitration board. The best-case scenario is that I’ll get fired, lose my broker’s license, and Goldberg will have to pay restitution to my clients. After they drain my account, of course. Worst-case scenario is that all of the above happens and then I’ll get incarcerated—you know, for a misdemeanor, anywhere from six months to two years.

But don’t worry, Lin Su. I’m sure it will all work out fine, and before you know it we’ll be on our way to China.

When they got to the elephants’ cage, the stench of their droppings made Ted literally gag.

Lin Su shot him a worried look. “Honey, are you all right?”

You’ve got to tell her, Ted. You’ve got to.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I’m not feeling so hot. Must have picked up a bug at work. Several guys were out this week.”

“Here, let’s sit down. There’s a bench over there. My gosh, you’re pasty white!”

As soon as they sat on the bench, Sammy started whining, “Mommy, I want to see the snakes! Can we see the snakes now?”

“We’re almost there. Let’s just sit for a sec.”

When Lin Su stopped pushing the stroller, LeeAnne started to cry. Lin Su plucked her out, put her over her shoulder, and while she patted her daughter gently on the back she instructed, “Eat something, Ted. You look faint. Or take a sip of Coke.”

He popped the top on the Coke can and took a long swallow. Sugar and caffeine. Yeah, that might work until they got back home and put the kids down for a nap. Then he could take Lin Su’s hands in his, look her in the eyes, and say, Sweetie, I’m afraid I have some bad news.

At any rate, he knew he could not tell her here, not in front of the kids. Standing up, he said with more enthusiasm than he felt, “Okay, guys, let’s go! Off to the snakes!” He made a hissing sound and opened and closed his hand, imitating a snake’s mouth.

Sammy watched transfixed until Ted reached over with the same hand and pinched the little boy at the waist. Sammy howled with fright and laughter.

“And then we’ll go to the monkeys! The monkeys.” Ted scratched himself under his arms and twirled around, making
ooh, ooh, ooh
sounds.

Lin Su, Sammy, and even LeeAnne stared at him, their eyes wide. Then they all laughed.

Yes, laugh! Laugh, little family. Your daddy is cracking up.

________

Ev, Annie, and Janelle sat at the kitchen table and finished their breakfast.

Her father wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, “What could be nicer, Janelle, than eating my favorite breakfast fixed by my little girl? Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Daddy. Would you like another cup of coffee?”

“I believe I will.”

Janelle took a deep breath and was surprised at the prayer that settled in her heart.

Thank you, Lord, for time to be with Mom and Dad alone while Katy Lynn and Gina are still sleeping. I needed this.

She had chatted with them about Luke and Sandy and told them things they already knew about Brian’s work with the radio station. Her parents were some of their most fervent prayer partners for the ministry.

Now her mother filled each cup with more coffee, sat down by her daughter, pulled her robe around herself, and asked, “How are you doing, darling? Really? From your letters and phone calls, it sounds as though you’re struggling.”

Janelle blinked back sudden tears, gave a sniff, and admitted, “I
am
struggling. Struggling with dark thoughts, depression. The past two months have been horrible, the same blackness that I felt right after Josh’s accident. I thought it would get easier, but …”

Her father, sitting across the table from her, reached for her hand and held it tightly between his own. “It rushes on you at the craziest times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I was doing better, and then the whole bottom dropped out. Brian says it’s the time of year—the anniversary of Josh’s death—that kicks it off. I guess he’s right.” She bit her lip. “How long, Daddy? How long does it take?”

Her father moved his long fingers over her hand. “After Tate had been gone four years, I started thinking I might be able to live again. But you’ve got to give yourself permission to keep grieving for as long as it takes.”

“You never really get over it, do you?”

“No, sweetie, not exactly. But then, do we want to ‘get over it’? The memory of Tate, the memory of Josh, is proof of their importance in our lives. I think we just hope to let the Almighty redeem the terrible scars. Eventually He gives us supernatural strength and the desire to reach out and help others make it too.”

“The driving school?”

“Yes, the driving school.”

________

Lissa felt thankful for the anger and the hatred that were momentarily replacing her fear as she careened, out of control, around the curves on East Brow Road. Her father refused to entertain the idea of a conversation. They were at an impasse, and she knew from therapy that you could not force another human to change.

Failure!

Terrified and furious, she screamed out loud, “I give up! I quit!” and pushed down so hard on the accelerator that she thought she might run the car right off the side of Lookout Mountain. Forget her father, forget Caleb, and forget the hope of healing, grieving, and moving on!

She wanted to go far away, away from life. She had no Plan B, just soul weariness as she sped along East Brow, came to an intersection, braked too quickly, and skidded to a stop. Recovering, she turned to the right, zigzagging along Scenic Highway, her heart pumping wildly, driving as if in a fog, much too fast for the small mountain road.

The stately homes with the well-trimmed yards and the pumpkins still sitting by the front doors blurred on either side of the road. Sweat poured down her back, her shoulder ached, her mind felt numb. Her life was sliding away from her, sliding down the mountain, out of control.

She screeched again to a stop and stared at the familiar little blackarrowed signs pointing in different directions: Point Park, Incline, Rock City, Ruby Falls, Covenant College. Yes, Covenant College, the back of the mountain. She’d drive by the college on Highway 157, turn down through Hinkle and toward Flintstone and Fort Oglethorpe. There would be less traffic, and she could avoid that drop-off by Rock City where the mountain fell off into nothingness and a car could be catapulted down to Chattanooga.

That was a rational thought. Keep looking ahead, Lissa, keep your eyes forward. Breathe, breathe, girl. Loosen your hands on the wheel. Concentrate.

Brake slowly.

A poky driver in a Suburban was twisting around the bends in front of her. Lissa realized she was approaching too quickly, but she didn’t brake. Closer, closer the Camaro came to the Suburban.

Slow down, Lissa!

When the Suburban turned right into the steep entrance of the college, Lissa let out a breath and zipped past, following the road to the left. The Camaro’s wheels squealed as she rounded a hairpin turn much too quickly.

Slow down, slow down—you are going too fast.

Beyond the college, the road straightened, but it was still punctuated with a succession of small hills and valleys. At her speed, she literally felt like she was riding a roller coaster, and at one point the car bumped so high that she felt her heart in the pit of her stomach.

Slow down.

Her hands were shaking now, her breathing coming with difficulty. Why could she not get the car to slow down?

In the distance a pickup truck was coming toward her. Was she still on her side of the road? Was she swerving, or was it just her mind?

Lissa, concentrate!
Mr. MacAllister’s voice was urging her. Then she heard his voice again, speaking to her through that manuscript.
Sometimes you must take drastic action. Sometimes, to avoid tragedy, you must make a split-second decision.

She yanked the steering wheel to the right and mashed on the brakes. She heard the blast of the pickup’s horn as it swerved off the other side of the road, barely missing her sliding Camaro, and continued on. As Lissa pressed harder on the brake, the car screeched and then came to a stop, smack in the middle of the road.

She was trembling so violently now that she did not trust herself to move. She took her hands off the steering wheel and held them together in her lap, but still they shook uncontrollably.

Caleb is sold.

I hate my father.

Ev MacAllister is S. A. Green.

Silvano is a creep.

It wasn’t my fault.

It’s all my fault!

Failure!

But somewhere in the midst of the voices, she heard another one, Mr. MacAllister’s, calm and clear, telling her how to live as she drove Ole Bessie.

Lissa! Lissa, you can do this. I won’t let you fail. I’m here. I’m here.

He was instructing her as surely as if he were sitting right beside her in the yellow Camaro.

You can do this. Breathe.

The trembling lessened; she forced herself to breathe deeply. An approaching car slowed, veered to the right, drove around her. Then she heard the other voice whispering in her head.

You can’t trust that old man. He’s a liar. A liar and a fake!

She again felt the sparks of anger and hate, her heart rate accelerating.

Then a whisper, a gentle whisper, drifting on the breeze.

Nothing is random, Lissa. I am here with you. I am here.

The voice wasn’t her driving teacher’s.

Every ounce of strength drained from her, and she felt weak and light-headed. Out loud, she whimpered, like a small child in the dark, “Then help me if you’re here. I’m so scared.”

Something settled inside her mind, a dried leaf floating to the ground.

She put her hands on the steering wheel, pressed the accelerator gently, and moved forward, carried by the voice. Not another car was on the road. She followed Highway 157 to the left as it curved gently through woods and farmlands, rolling up and down the hills. At a small white church, she turned to head down the mountain. She noticed the way the sun was playing in the remaining leaves that twittered delicately on branches. A flock of geese spread out in V formation far ahead. She felt her face relax and her fingers less taut on the wheel.

Ten minutes later she was traveling along Highway 2 en route to Fort Oglethorpe. The shaking and trembling had stopped by the time she pulled the yellow Camaro into the MacAllisters’ driveway and stopped it beside Ole Bessie. Lissa sat still for a long time, breathing deeply. Then she rested her head on the steering wheel and sobbed.

________

It was past noon, but after such a big breakfast, in which Katy Lynn and Gina had eventually participated, no one was hungry. The five of them had moved into the den, giving snippets of information about their lives in between awkward stops and starts. Ev and Annie sat on the old sagging couch. Gina was curled on the floor with a magazine.

Katy Lynn took the straight-back chair, saying, “Janelle, it looks like Daddy’s big armchair is left for you.”

“Finally I get to try it,” Janelle joked, and Ev thought the sound of the sisters’ teasing was more beautiful than the view from his porch of the fire-colored trees on Lookout Mountain.

He did not want to interrupt anything. Yet he knew it was time. He glanced at Annie, who gave him a quick smile and a wink. His hands shook the slightest bit, and he felt a pinching in his chest. He wondered if he would be able to say what he needed to. Swallowing, he lifted a silent prayer in his mind.

Help me, Father. Help me.

“I just want you girls to know how wonderful it is to have you all here. Your mother and I appreciate your coming, each of you.” He looked down at his hands, noticed the light brown splotches, rubbed at them absently.

“Janelle, you mentioned that you had questions about our past— things that Katy had alluded to when you were together.” He cleared his throat twice. He nodded to Katy Lynn. “You were right to bring these up. It was appropriate.” Now he was fumbling with his hands in his lap.

“I need to tell you things that will be surprising for all of you, things you may even have trouble believing. Katy Lynn remembers some of the past, our other life. Janelle, you weren’t born at the time, and we never really told you about it.” He looked down at Gina. “You need to know too. Please hear me out to the end. Then”—he held out his hands—“then you can each decide what you want to do with what I tell you.”

He took a breath, and Annie patted his hands.

“Katy Lynn and Janelle, you know that this old house belonged to your grandparents—we bought it from Mom’s father when her mother died. That was in 1956. But your mother and I met up East years earlier, when we were in college. I grew up in Connecticut, in a milieu that valued wealth and intelligence above everything else. I was expected to be a success, and I was determined not to disappoint anyone. At eighteen I was the biggest jerk in the history of the world.”

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