Where My Heart Belongs

by Tracie Peterson

  “I don’t have long, girls. I know that. I feel it more every day. There’s nothing more for me here. Sunny’s come home. Kathy’s provided for, and I feel I’ve done all I ever needed to do. I’m not afraid to die, and I don’t want you girls being afraid to let me go. I don’t want you to be all mournful and sad.”

  “But I’ll miss you,” Kathy told him. “We’ve been together so much these last few years.”

  “And we shouldn’t have been,” he countered, his voice ever weakening. “You should have been with Kyle or at least someone who could comfort you after I’m gone.”

  “I’ll be here for her,” Sunny promised.

  Kathy found it hard to put any stock in her sister’s words. She had said something similar long ago. Pledging her undying love—her promise to always be there. That had clearly meant nothing to her, so why should this time be any different?

  “Look, Dad, you need to get to bed. I can see for myself that you aren’t feeling well. Please let me help you back and get your medicine.”

  He nodded. “So long as you promise Sunny can stay. You two can work together to get her room set up so she can be comfortable. Just put all the stuff in my old room and sort it there.”

  “I’ll take care of everything,” Kathy promised. “Sunny can stay as long as she wants.” She forced a smile as she glanced Sunny’s way.

  Kathy couldn’t identify the feelings that coursed through her as she helped her father back into the house. Sunny had gone to the kitchen for the medicine, and Kathy was actually glad for this. She needed time to think on all that had just happened. Sunshine seemed so sincere about everything Dad had presented. She didn’t seem to mind about the inheritance, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t putting on an act for Dad.

  But it doesn’t seem like an act, Kathy thought. Maybe she honestly means everything she’s saying. Maybe her heart really has changed.

  “Thank you, Kathy,” Dad murmured as she lifted his legs up on the bed. He was so weak he couldn’t manage it himself.

  “It’s not a problem, but you shouldn’t have stayed out there so long,” she said as she arranged all the pillows.

  “I meant . . . for Sunny. Thank you for agreeing that she could stay.”

  “Dad, it’s your house.”

  “But I want it to be more than that. I want you to let her stay because you want to work things out.”

  Kathy frowned. “I honestly don’t know what I want, Dad. I’m trying to figure that out, but it hasn’t been easy. Having Sunny come back has been a big shock. I doubt it would have been more shocking had I opened the door to find Mom on the other side.”

  Her father gave a weak laugh. “It would have been more shocking to me.”

  Kathy adjusted the last pillow as Sunny came into the room. “Here we go. I have the medicine and the apple juice. A feast to be sure.”

  “There are enough pills there to make a guy feel full up,” Dad said, closing his eyes. “I’ll be glad when it’s all behind me.”

  Kathy exchanged a look with her sister. Sunny’s eyes instantly dampened with tears. Perhaps seeing Dad this way was harder on her sister than Kathy had given credit for. After all, Kathy had had a long time to prepare for their father’s death, but it was all new to Sunny.

  TWELVE

  LATER SUNDAY AFTERNOON Kathy began clearing out the mess in Sunny’s old room. She hadn’t gotten far, so the next morning she headed back up before it got too hot. The sky promised rain, which Kathy prayed would cool things down, but knew it could only serve to make the air stickier.

  Most of the stuff from Sunny’s old room was in boxes. After Mom had died, Kathy had boxed up the junk left behind by Sunny. Mom had left it like a shrine to her younger daughter, but Kathy found the entire matter too difficult to face on a daily basis. Packing Sunny’s childhood memorabilia had given Kathy a measure of closure.

  The remaining boxes and furniture were from the attic. She’d meant to deal with most of it long before now, but time had gotten away from her.

  “Some of this stuff isn’t even good enough to give away,” she said, holding up an old worn blouse her mother had probably owned for over thirty years. She decided in that moment Dad had a good idea. Just clear the stuff out—put it in his and Mom’s old room, then sort it there. Not only was there more room in the master bedroom, but it would take less time to get Sunny installed in her old room that way.

  Kathy spent the next half hour moving box after box to her parents’ old room. She was down to a few mismatched pieces of furniture when she realized she had no idea where Sunny was. It would have been nice to have had her help. The house seemed so quiet that Kathy felt certain her sister must have slipped out. Kathy glanced at her watch and knew Dad would probably be sound asleep.

  The furniture wasn’t that hard to move—it was mostly small stuff, awkward to carry but not heavy. When it was all completed Kathy stood in the doorway to the room she’d always thought of as off limits, especially as a child, and felt a little nostalgic. Her parents’ room had always been a very private place, but at the same time Kathy knew it to be a refuge when they’d been young. Many a bad dream had been dissolved by going to her mother’s bedside.

  The old wallpaper had seen better days. Kathy remembered when her mother had put it up. She and Amy had gone off to elementary school and when they returned, Mom was finishing up the last strip. She was so proud of the job she’d done, pointing out how she’d carefully aligned the roses in the floral design.

  Their furniture, now hidden by boxes, was mostly mismatched pieces passed down through the family. They’d inherited the bed when Kathy’s great-grandmother had passed away, and Aunt Glynnis had left the large dresser with her brother when she’d moved from Kansas to Colorado.

  There were other items—just as nondescript and unfashionable as the bed and dresser—but they were soon to be sold at auction. Before she knew it, the entire house would be nothing more than empty rooms and memories.

  Kathy tried not to be sad about the changes. She fervently believed that God had a plan in all things, though it had been hard to remember that since Sunny’s arrival. Closing the door behind her, Kathy decided it was time to go find Sunny and share the news. Her room was nearly ready for occupancy.

  Kathy wondered if Sunny would like being in her old room again. Kathy knew it would have to be cleaned, but she figured Sunny could help with that. She had, after all, been offering to help since she’d arrived at the farm.

  Downstairs was completely silent. Kathy checked on Dad before beginning her search for Sunny. Peeking in so as not to disturb her father, Kathy could see he appeared to be resting comfortably.

  Searching through the living room and kitchen proved futile, but catching movement through the kitchen window, Kathy decided to check out in the yard. Perhaps Sunny had gone there to enjoy the morning.

  Kathy went out the back door and looked around. She frowned, realizing the yard was deserted. The barn door was open, however. Maybe Sunny was inside. Kathy went to check, but again found the area deserted. It was then she heard voices. Had someone come to the farm?

  The conversation sounded one-sided, however. As Kathy retraced her steps and went to the far side of the barn, she realized her sister was the only one present. Her words were intended for the purpose of petitioning God and no one else.

  “I need help, Lord. I cannot do this without you. Sometimes it’s so lonely and so difficult. I want to be patient, but I also want to see this made right. I know I don’t really have a right to expect things to work out—nothing else short of coming to know you has gotten me much of anyplace, but please hear me. Please stop sending me problems and give me some solutions instead.”

  Kathy bit her lower lip. She was a part of the problems Sunny talked about—not one of the solutions. That thought really bothered her. All of her life she’d wanted to be helpful to people—offer answers and fix problems. But she certainly wasn’t in that position in her sister’s life.

  Clear
ing her throat, Kathy advanced around the barn, hoping her sister would hear her coming and not realize she’d been eavesdropping. “Oh, hello.” Kathy noted that Sunny had a small trowel and was on her knees before one of Mom’s prized rosebushes.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Sunny said, looking up like a child caught sneaking out of bed.

  “Not at all. I’ve been meaning to get out here for ages.”

  “The roses are so pretty. Do you ever cut some for the table?”

  Kathy noted the abundance of yellow tea roses. “I think that would be a wonderful idea. There are some scissors for that in the kitchen drawer.”

  “I’ll get them in a minute. I can’t believe they’ve grown so full. You’ve done a good job of keeping them. I always figured they’d only grow for Mom.”

  “That’s what I thought the first couple of years after she was gone. They really seemed to suffer. I read up on rose care—even talked to several of her friends. Finally they pulled through.”

  “What will you do with them now? I mean with the sale and everything.”

  “I had thought to take at least one or two with me to Colorado. I’m hoping to buy a place of my own where I can plant them. Of course, I should probably find a job first. Uncle Will says he can get me on at the pharmaceutical company, but I don’t know.” She let her voice trail off. The last thing she needed was to get in a conversation with Sunny about Kyle. But in truth, Kyle would probably determine whether Kathy wanted to go to work for Jackson Pharmaceuticals.

  “I think transplanting them sounds like a good idea,” Sunny said rather wistfully.

  “I could dig up a couple for you too. If you have a place for them.” Sunny quickly looked away, and Kathy couldn’t help but wonder about it. For all the stories Sunny had shared, she still hadn’t said too much about her current circumstance.

  “I keep meaning to ask you about where you live now,” Kathy said, watching Sunny grow increasingly uncomfortable. “Do you have someone waiting for you? Did you remarry and have a family? We just haven’t talked much about what you left behind.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  Kathy couldn’t imagine, after all the other things Sunny had shared, that this could possibly be a problem. “Why not? Don’t I have a right to know?” Even as she said it Kathy knew it was a stupid thing to say.

  “Don’t I have a right to know what’s going on with the sale of the farm?”

  “That’s different,” Kathy said. “You have no reason to distrust me.”

  Sunny got to her feet. “So that’s what it’s about? Trust? Fine. Maybe you think I should trust you, but I don’t. Not with my heart.” She stomped off without another word, leaving Kathy stunned by her actions.

  Sunny hadn’t meant to run away from Kathy’s questions, but at the moment they were just too hard. Kathy needed to understand that she couldn’t simply demand answers and get them. Sunny felt her heart pounding a beat that seemed to accelerate with every step she took.

  She drove into Slocum, realizing she would have to answer to Kathy when she got home. It had been rude and selfish to act the way she had, but honestly she was running out of patience and time. There was something waiting for her back in California, but for now she just wanted to forget about it.

  Without really meaning to, Sunny ended up at Debbie’s house. The old Victorian three-story had been restored to its original charm and seemed to outshine all the other houses in the neighborhood.

  Sunny sat for a minute in the car and thought about how her life might have been different had she stayed here in Slocum. She and Debbie might have been neighbors. They might have planned get-togethers with each other’s families and celebrated birthdays and anniversaries together. A sadness washed over her and she let out a sigh.

  “Why did I think it would be so much easier—so much better out there away from home? Why couldn’t I see the truth of things for myself—even then?”

  She supposed a part of her had known there was no ideal place or person, but in her heart Sunny knew that the old Amy had been convinced that while she might not find “ideal,” she was bound to find “pretty good”—but not in Slocum.

  The idea of having wasted her life was something that haunted Sunny. She’d been married and pregnant, abused and neglected. She’d seen a taste of fame and fortune, as well as real love.

  “But here I sit, back in Slocum,” she murmured and shook her head. It just seemed there was something God wanted to teach her that wasn’t getting through.

  She got out of the car and walked up the steps of the beautiful whitewashed porch. Several chairs surrounded a couple of small tables on the porch, and toys were scattered around the floor. Obviously this was a gathering place for the family. Sunny smiled at the thought and imagined them all seated there enjoying the end of a day.

  “I thought I heard someone pull up,” Debbie said, opening the screen door. “I’m so glad you came by for a visit.”

  “I feel bad just barging in,” Sunny admitted. She liked the carefree way Debbie had styled her hair by pulling it back into a ponytail. But to give it a bit of extra attention she had put a rhinestone barrette on either side of her head. She didn’t have any makeup on, yet the natural glow of her complexion was perfect.

  “Nobody worries about calling ahead around here. Everybody just kind of owns everybody. You remember how it was.”

  Sunny nodded. “Part of the reason I left.”

  Debbie smiled. “I remember your list of grievances against Slocum, Kansas. Hey, do you want to come in or sit out here? We spend a lot of time out here.”

  “I figured as much. It looks like a comfortable place.”

  “It is. Why don’t we start here and then I can give you a tour.”

  “Where are your boys?”

  “In Hays with Marty’s folks. It’s kind of nice to have the time to myself. I just finished painting one of the upstairs rooms.”

  Sunny took a seat on one of the chairs, settling into the comfortable thick cushions. Debbie pulled her chair a little closer and sat. Down the street a man Sunny didn’t recognize was watering his lawn, but otherwise the neighborhood was pretty quiet.

  “Is it always like this?” she asked. “So still and relaxing?”

  “For the most part. Several of the neighborhood ladies are at the church for one of their regular meetings. They’re probably finalizing plans for the Fourth of July celebration. There’s usually a big potluck picnic at the church and then fireworks. It’s always a lot of fun. I hope you can make it.”

  “It’s hard to believe the Fourth is coming right up. Seems like just yesterday we were celebrating the new year.”

  “I’ve noticed time goes a lot faster now,” Debbie agreed.

  “So you mentioned how things went for you and Marty. Where did everyone else end up?” There had been only twelve kids in their rural graduating class and most of them had been pretty close. Sunny had a feeling the others had remained that way.

  “Well, let’s see. Ruddy ended up in the army, and I lost track of him. His folks moved back East after the railroad pulled out. The Gruber twins went off to college and never came back.” Debbie bit her lower lip and gazed to the ceiling. “Hmm.” She seemed momentarily stumped. “I know that Kate and Jean moved to Topeka. They always were inseparable friends. They’re both married now and have families, but I don’t really remember how many or what sex.” She laughed. “I haven’t tried to think of where everybody went for a long time.”

  “I figured most would have stuck around here,” Sunny said. The tally had already accounted for over half their class and only Debbie and Marty were still here.

  “Well, Christopher did. He lives here with his wife and kids. He married Cara Lewis. She was two years behind us— remember?”

  “I do. They were an item from grade school. I can’t imagine having a romance like that.”

  Debbie picked at the lint on a cushion. “They still seem very much in love. They’ve got six kids and
own a nice farm on the north side. The old Carlson place.”

  Sunny found all the references familiar. Funny how the childhood memories and information were firmly etched in her mind. “I always liked that farm. It was so well managed.”

  “I did too.” Debbie rocked for a moment in her chair. “Oh, did you know that Linda Marshall died? It was a cartrain accident up near Lindsborg.”

  “No, I didn’t know about that.” Sunny thought of the terminally happy Linda. “That’s so sad.”

  “It really was. She’d just gotten a teaching job at the college there. I saw her a couple of days before she was killed. She told me she had never been happier. Felt her whole life was just about to start in earnest. Instead, it was ending. It really made me think about how frail life is.”

  Sunny nodded. “I had to learn that lesson too. When you’re young you think you’ll live forever and that nothing can ever really be all that bad. Boy, was I wrong.”

  Debbie looked at her oddly. “How so?”

  Sunny stiffened. “It’s not important. There have just been some nasty bumps along the way. So who’s left?” She did a mental tally. “What happened to Jasmine and Rachel?”

  “Rachel’s still here. She married and divorced Barry Sutton. He moved to Alaska, I think. She stayed here with her two kids and lives with her mom. Her dad died last winter. Jasmine left for California when you took off.”

  “Yeah, we were all going to go together with her sister and a couple of her sister’s friends. Instead, I decided to stay in Las Vegas. I met up with her again in California, but lost track of where she went after that.”

  “Well, that’s everyone. Not too many stayed and only a couple showed up for the ten-year reunion. I guess that’s the way of it. The town is dying out. Some say if Hays grows big enough, Slocum will thrive again as a bedroom community.”