Where My Heart Belongs

by Tracie Peterson

  Sunny nodded, her expression betraying that she too was close to tears. “But you won’t let me make things right?”

  “You can’t make things right!” Kathy declared a little louder than she’d intended. “You can’t give me back the wasted years—the lost relationships and life that I might have known—that we might have known.”

  “No. I can’t. I can’t do anything about the past except say I’m sorry—and I am genuinely sorry. Hopefully I can do something about the present—the future.” Sunny got to her feet. “But first, Kathy, I need you to forgive me.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  KATHY REMAINED QUIET for a long time. Forgiving was the right thing to do, and in truth, Kathy knew it was what she wanted to do. She stared out past Sunny to the road. The light was fading and nearly gone.

  So many years stood between them, the past a vast wasteland that seemed impossible to cross. Yet Kathy knew that with God, all things were possible. Either she honestly believed that or it was nothing more than a quaint saying, hollow in its promise.

  She looked at Sunny and saw nothing but sincerity in her expression. “I want to forgive you. I know it’s the right thing to do, but my heart screams for protection. I want to trust you again,” Kathy finally said. “Please understand, though, I can’t do it overnight. I mean, I can say the words, but it’s going to be a process—a journey.”

  “Most things in life are,” Sunny replied. “I don’t mind waiting, Kathy. I just want you to forgive me so that we can start over.”

  Kathy nodded. “I want that too. I really do.” Yet still she wasn’t saying the words. What was wrong with her? Why was her heart so hardened against giving Sunny her forgiveness? Was it that Kathy thought forgiveness somehow equaled approval? Was forgiveness saying that it didn’t matter what Sunny had done—that she shouldn’t feel bad or responsible for the problems she’d caused? Kathy felt her head begin to throb. She thought of what Paul said in Romans seven, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.”

  Hating Sunny wasn’t what she wanted to do. Holding a grudge and focusing on the bitter past weren’t what Kathy wanted either. Yet most of her adult life, Kathy had focused on exactly that.

  But what child of God—what honest-to-goodness Christian woman—would refuse someone forgiveness when they asked?

  The thought startled her. She wasn’t refusing Sunny forgiveness— was she? But she was using the excuse that it would take time—that Sunny would have to prove herself. It’s a good thing God doesn’t treat me like that, Kathy thought. How would it be if I asked God for forgiveness and He said, “I want to forgive you, but it’s going to take time”?

  The next morning Kathy woke up thinking about Sunny’s stories about the past. She thought too about Sunny’s desire for forgiveness. It had taken a lot of courage for Sunny to come home again.

  “And I haven’t made it easy for her in any way.” She thought of the way she’d wanted to slam the door in Sunny’s face on that first day. Dad had welcomed Sunny with open arms, thanking and praising God for answered prayer. But not Kathy. Kathy had been angry and frustrated by the entire situation.

  Why? Why couldn’t I have just opened my arms as well? Sylvia must be right. My love for Sunny is shallow—based on her doing and being what I need her to do and be.

  Kathy stretched and threw back the sheet. She had a lot to get done today, and she knew she shouldn’t waste any time. She glanced over at the clock and was surprised to find that it was already a quarter till eight. Thoughts of Sunny fled.

  “Oh, good grief.” She jumped up from the bed and scrambled to find her work clothes. Knowing the day would probably be plenty warm, she donned capris and a tank top.

  Kathy grabbed her hairbrush and took several minutes to force her hair into compliance. For the kind of work she knew she’d have to face, it was best to pull it back and braid it out of the way. Finally satisfied, she slipped into sandals, then made her way downstairs.

  “I thought I’d find you already at work,” Sunny said as Kathy entered the kitchen. She was busy making coffee. “I just got down here.”

  “I slept crazy last night. I’d sleep hard then wake up, then go back to sleep. I think it’s the stress and excitement of all that needs to be accomplished.”

  “Yeah, time’s passing pretty quick.”

  “We’ve got to finish sorting things out today and tomorrow for the auction.” Kathy went to the fridge and grabbed a container of yogurt. “And of course there’s a ton of cleaning.”

  “Of course,” Sunny said with a smile. “I think we’d better get some of those storage tubs too. You know the plastic ones?”

  “Yeah, those would be easier to move. You know, I’ve pretty well decided I’m not taking much with me. I’ll take my clothes and whatever knickknacks and furniture that I feel are important.

  Sunny nodded. “That makes sense. Starting fresh will be good.”

  “We always just kind of lived in a hodgepodge. I hope it will bring something at the sale. The auction people told me we could expect the biggest money from the farm equipment, obviously, and then the tools and antique dishes and collectibles.” She ate for a minute while leaning against the kitchen counter. “Are you sure you don’t want some of the Depression glass?”

  Sunny shook her head. “No. That will bring some good money and you deserve to have it. Besides, I don’t know what I’d do with it. I don’t even have a home right now.”

  Kathy frowned and tried not to let Sunny see her reaction. She didn’t know how to comfort Sunny in this situation. Kathy knew if the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t be looking for sympathy.

  “So do you want me to run over to Hays and get some tubs? I can go right away and get back in a short time. I can also pick up some planters for the roses.”

  “That would be a great idea. We also need trash bags, cleaning supplies, and more boxes if you can get them. The grocery store’s been most accommodating, but you have to catch them before they cut them up.”

  “I’ll do it then.” Sunny checked the coffee maker. “Coffee’s done. I’ll grab a cup to take with me.”

  “There are some travel mugs under the sink. Dad and I sometimes took them when we went back and forth to the doctor. The red one was his favorite.”

  Sunny opened the cabinet and took out the plastic mug. She held it with an expression that suggested something between love and regret. Kathy felt sorry for her.

  “You can have it if you want it. Otherwise the auction gets it.”

  “I’d like to keep it. At least for a while.” Sunny popped the lid and poured coffee into the cup. “I can just imagine Dad sitting in the car with it.” She smiled. “I’m guessing anytime you bought coffee when you were out somewhere he complained that it wasn’t as good as you could get at home.”

  “Or from the old percolator types,” Kathy said with a laugh.

  “Ah, the good old days.”

  Fifteen minutes later Sunny was on her way to Hays and Kathy was back to work in their parents’ room. She had her piles sorted. Books, clothes, bric-a-brac, photo albums and framed pictures, odds and ends that didn’t seem to fit any particular category. It was the stuff of their lives.

  Digging through her parents’ closet, Kathy was amazed to find a lot of things that she hadn’t even realized they had. Old cameras, a slide projector, two shotguns, three worn leather suitcases, antique hatboxes. She was even more amazed to find the latter still contained hats.

  She got most of the stuff packed and marked in short order. Soon Sunny would return and they could work together to break down the bed. With a sigh, Kathy got to her feet and decided to clean the floors of the stark room. She went to Sunny’s room, where she remembered they’d decided to store the vacuum.

  Crossing the room, Kathy couldn’t help but notice Sunny’s Bible was open atop her bed. A letter lay beside it. She knew it was wrong to snoop, but she felt compelled to see what the letter was. She unfolded the
paper slowly and recognized her mother’s handwriting. This was the letter she’d written to Sunny.

  An aching grew in Kathy’s heart. She had no such letter to read and find comfort in. She was jealous. Mom had often told Kathy some of the same things that were in Sunny’s letter, but Kathy had no proof of them as Sunny did.

  “Just proof in my own heart.”

  She folded the letter and sat down on the bed. “I don’t want to envy her. She’s suffered more than I have. I had Mom right up until the end. I have to remember that I had time with both Mom and Dad that Sunny forever forfeited.”

  But the past was still haunting. Accusations sprung to mind regarding Sunny—accusations that only weeks ago Kathy would have relished as great companions. Now she only wanted them to leave her in peace.

  Looking down at the Bible, Kathy saw the book was opened to the forty-third chapter of Isaiah. Her gaze fell to the eighteenth and nineteenth verses, and it seemed that God was speaking the passage directly to her.

  Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

  She pondered the verses for a time. “ ‘Forget the former things,’ ” she murmured. “ ‘Do not dwell on the past.’ ”

  Kathy looked around her at the room. She thought of the house and all its contents—relics of a past that had long outgrown its usefulness. It wasn’t about the things anymore. It wasn’t about the farm and the land she’d grown up on. Suddenly everything around her seemed worn and tired.

  “He’s doing a new thing,” she said, putting the Bible back down. “ ‘A way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.’ ”

  Kathy heard the sound of a car pulling into the drive. She checked her watch. It was too soon for Sunny to be back. Hurrying downstairs, she reached the bottom step just as a knock sounded on the front door. It was definitely not Sunny.

  Sylvia stood on the other side, a casserole in hand. “I knew that even if you didn’t need my help in cleaning, you could probably use it for supper.”

  Kathy laughed. “Of course. I love your cooking.” She took the towel-wrapped glass dish. “What’d you make?”

  “Chicken with that rice and stuffing combination you like so much.”

  “Oh, I can hardly wait. I might have to have some for lunch.”

  “It works for that too.” She glanced around. “It looks like you’re making progress. Everything seems a little more sterile with each visit.”

  “Yeah. Sunny went to Hays to pick up some plastic tubs and cleaning supplies. I thought when you showed up that she might have made it back, but it seemed too early.” They made their way back to the kitchen and Kathy put the dish on the stovetop and unwrapped it from the towel. “You might as well take this towel back so that I don’t accidentally put it in the auction.”

  Sylvia nodded. “So how are things going?”

  “Really much better. We’ve had a nice breakthrough.” Kathy related the events that had led up to the day. “I suppose sitting in the storm cave forced us to deal with each other, but it was more than that. I really started to care. It felt good.”

  “That’s wonderful news. It will help you to overcome all the bad.”

  “I know it will,” Kathy agreed. “Sunny asked me to forgive her, and I didn’t lie. I told her I wanted to, but that it would have to come little by little. I suppose not so much the forgiving part. I can forgive her . . . I realize that now. But the trusting and the recreating of our relationship— that’s going to take some time.”

  “And did you ask her to forgive you?” Sylvia asked matter-of-factly.

  Kathy felt her pride rise. “What do I have to ask forgiveness for? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Sylvia gave her a smirk that Kathy had only seen her use when dealing with her children. Usually it was in reaction to something they were lying about or when they were trying to pull the wool over her eyes.

  “Well, I didn’t!” Kathy declared.

  Sylvia crossed her arms. “Kathy, don’t ruin it now. You’ve come so far.”

  “What have I done that I should ask her forgiveness?”

  “What about your bad attitude? What about the bitter, hateful way you reacted to her coming home? What about—”

  “Hold on now.” Kathy gripped the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Everything I felt and did was borne out of response to things Sunny did. My attitude was bad only because she ran off and didn’t let any of us know whether she was dead or alive.”

  “An unpardonable sin to be sure.” The sarcasm in Sylvia’s voice was softened by the slight smile on her face. “Take a deep breath, Kathy, and think. You know it’s not Sunny’s fault that you reacted the way you did. You have to own this one.”

  Kathy didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t meant to explode like that. She did take a deep breath and tried to form a rational, unemotional thought. “Well, okay, my reactions were my own, but I still don’t see that they constitute a need to ask for forgiveness. I mean, I’ve put aside the pain and misery of those twelve years and agreed to forgive her— isn’t that enough?”

  Sylvia raised a brow. “Is it? Is it enough?”

  Sunny felt good about the way things were going with Kathy. Her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, despite the ever-growing ache to see Lucy. In her dreams she saw herself returning to California to find Brian frantic for reconciliation. She liked to imagine that he would take her into his arms and apologize for the past. But in reality, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Their divorce would be final in August—possibly September. He would take Lucy from her—as he already had. He would take away the last pretense of their being a family.

  She’d talked to Nancy again and begged a favor. Explaining the situation at hand, her mother-in-law had been more than gracious. Nancy had agreed to purchase the farm. Sunny had explained the situation and how desperate her sister was to get the place sold. Nancy understood and promised to contact the real-estate office immediately. Whatever they were asking, she’d buy it and see things expedited to have the sale closed within as short a time as possible. She also promised to keep the transaction a secret. Sunny hoped Kathy would be pleased. Surely it would ease her sister’s worries.

  Looking out across the vast open fields of wheat stubble, Sunny felt it a good representation of her life. Only the good parts had been taken away. Now all that was left were the bits and pieces of what had once been a profitable crop. Nothing but crumbs for the birds and deer. And after a time, even that would be plowed under and the fields replanted for the next crop.

  The time was rapidly approaching when Sunny would have to leave Kansas and her childhood home behind. She needed to be back in Beverly Hills for the divorce. She thought it strange that her lawyer hadn’t contacted her to let her know when they were to meet in court. Sunny supposed she should call him and see what was going on.

  The road to home came into view and Sunny slowed the car and made the turn. Things would be different now, she thought. Everything would wind down here and come to an end. She and Kathy would say their good-byes, promise to write or call, and go their separate ways.

  “And then what?” Sunny asked. “What do I do then?”

  TWENTY-THREE

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK of this one?” Kathy asked, holding up a snapshot. She and Sunny had been poring through old photographs for over an hour.

  “That was the spring pageant at church when I was eleven,” Sunny remembered. “The children’s department was doing a play about Easter. Didn’t we call it something like ‘How the Easter Bunny Stole Easter’?”

  Kathy sat back. “Yeah, I think we did. You know I vaguely remember that.”

  “I don’t think you were in it. You were thirteen then and in the junior high group.”

  Kathy nodded and put the picture in Sunny’s stack. “You might as well have it then.”

  “Here’s one of us at the lake.”
Sunny held up the picture and smiled. “Remember when Mom and Dad would take us up to the lake?”

  “Yeah. We had to have all our chores done or we couldn’t go. So we’d hurry home from school on Friday and work like crazy and get everything done in half an hour.”

  Sunny laughed. “Mom would always say if we’d just do that every day we wouldn’t be dragging around until supper to be done with our tasks.”

  “I remember.” Kathy looked at the picture. “I remember this trip pretty well. I think I was only nine or ten.”

  Kathy and Sunny were watching their father as he worked on a large kite. The girls were focused on him with such intensity that it must have amused their mother enough to snap the shot.

  “I remember Dad trying to get that silly kite to fly. He would run and run and nothing would happen. I laughed so hard at that,” Sunny admitted.

  “And I got after you because I was afraid Dad’s feelings would get hurt.”

  “You were always worried about people’s feelings.” Sunny picked up another photograph. “I never was. I was just a bad person.”

  Kathy looked at her oddly. “I don’t believe that.”

  Sunny shrugged. “Well, I never cared enough. When I wanted something I went after it and didn’t worry about anybody else. We both know that’s true. I imposed my will on everyone around me. Like you said a while back, I even got the piano teacher to change the recital. I knew it wasn’t convenient for everyone else, but I didn’t care. I saw it as my needs being more important.”

  “Like when you left home.”

  Sunny put the picture down. “Yes. Exactly that. But you have to remember, I honestly didn’t understand Mom’s tears. I figured she and Dad were both upset because they were losing control over me. I felt like everyone in my life was playing some giant control game.”