A Kingsbury Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

“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.

  4

  Jane 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.

  Jo
ey 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.

  Joey ran toward his mother. “Mommmmm! That mouse pushed me.”

  Jane had no idea who was playing Lucky that day but she hoped she would have a chance to thank him. She helped the children sit down and ten minutes later she had just served them cake and ice cream when she spotted Lucky making his way back toward their table.

  “Look, boys and girls,” Jane said, grinning. “It’s Lucky come back to have some cake with us!”

  Lucky tiptoed up to Joey’s birthday cake. Then, raising a single finger to his mouth, he picked up the leftover cake and acted as if he was going to leave with it.

  “That mouse stole my cake!” Joey whined. “Mom, stop him! That’s my cake!”

  “Don’t whine, Joey,” his mother said meekly.

  Jane concealed a smile. “Yes, Joey, Lucky’s only teasing you. Right, Lucky?”

  Upon hearing his name, Lucky turned and nodded, balancing the leftover cake in one hand and placing the other over his belly as he shook with mock laughter. He was three feet from Joey and he put one foot in that direction. Then suddenly he tripped over something and lost his balance. Teetering back and forth, Lucky struggled to regain his grip on the cake, but he began to fall.

  Momentum carried the great mouse the remaining two steps that separated him from the birthday boy. Suddenly what remained of the cake hit Joey square in the back of the head. Chocolate icing covered the child’s blond hair and cream-filled cake slid in gooey chunks down his back. Joey burst into tears.

  Lucky brought both paws to his mouth and looked from Jane to Joey’s mother and back to Jane. She took the cue.

  “Oh, dear! Lucky has had a bad fall, boys and girls. I hope he’s okay!”

  Lucky nodded emphatically and puffed out his chest. Then he waved politely to Joey and shook the stunned mother’s hand. Raising a paw in the air he bid the party farewell and strode across the room the same way he’d come.

  As Lucky left, Jane glanced at the spot where the mouse had tripped. There was nothing there.

  Jane was doing her party paperwork later that afternoon when a boy with dark red hair and bright blue eyes approached her.

  “Hope I didn’t cost you a tip on that party today.” He smiled.

  Jane thought a moment and then her eyes flew open. “You were Lucky?”

  “Yeah. I’m new. Troy Hudson.”

  “Hi, Troy,” Jane grinned. “I’m Jane, and yes, you cost me the tip.”

  “You’re not mad are you?”

  “Are you kidding? It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. I’d have paid you myself to get back at the brat. That cake thing was great.”

  Troy’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah, well, it was just a little leftover cake. Besides, accidents happen.” He paused. “Hey, if you’re not doing anything Friday night, want to go to the show? My dad’s letting me borrow his car.”

  Jane considered him for a moment. “Sure. I guess you kind of owe me after treating my party to the psycho Lucky act.”

  “Yeah, well look at this.” He lifted his pant leg to reveal a colorful bruise where Joey had kicked him. “Even a friendly mouse like Lucky can only take so much.”

  Troy was the first boy Jane ever kissed. He was seventeen, funny and impetuous, and determined to remain unattached.

  “It’s stupid for kids our age to get into these serious relationships,” he said during one of their walks home from the Pizza Parlor. “Don’t you think so?”

  Not anymore, Jane thought, but all she said was, “Of course. There’s plenty of time for that when we’re older.”

  “Yeah, like thirty years older.” Troy laughed and Jane felt her heart lurch. She had never met anyone like Troy. He liked her the way she was, regardless of whether she ever grew up to be like Ellen.

  Summer ended a few weeks later and Troy quit his job at the Pizza Parlor so he could concentrate on senior prep classes at the private high school across town. His phone calls came less often and eventually stopped altogether.

  “Someday, Jane, I’ll grow up and be ready for you,” he said during one of his last phone calls. “But I won’t ask you to wait for me. Life goes on. I understand that.”

  Three years passed and circumstances caused both Jane and Troy to grow somewhat wise and worldly. At the end of that time, Troy finally called.

  “Told you I’d call.”

  Jane grinned madly on the other end. Life had not been kind to her since she’d last seen Troy, but in an instant he infused hope into her heart. They were nineteen and twenty now and Jane believed they were plenty old enough. “Are you a grownup now, Troy Hudson?”

  “I was hoping you might want to go to dinner Friday night and see for yourself.”

  They picked up where they left off and this time Troy had no aversion to being serious. They dated for the next three years and were married at St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church in the spring of 1991.

  Troy knew her like no one in her immediate family ever had. Except Ellen. But that had been when they were little girls. Before their father had let Jane down in a way that none of the others knew anything about. As time passed, Jane built her world around Troy. In the process, she willingly became something of a stranger to her family.

  “Ellen’s only interested in herself and everyone else has changed. None of us get along,” she complained to Troy. “I’d rather spend time with you and our friends than sit around a table listening to one of Aaron’s temper tantrums or hearing the latest great news about Ellen.”

  Troy watched her silently for a moment. “You’re jealous of her.”

  Jane looked at him, incredulous. “Of Ellen?”

  Troy nodded thoughtfully.

  “I’m not jealous, Troy, I’m disgusted. Everyone thinks she’s got her life so together but what they don’t see is how selfish she is. All she thinks about is herself.”

  For the next two years Jane talked constantly about moving away from Michigan, out west.

  “Just think, Troy, we could be done with winters and ice storms and snow-covered driveways.”

  Jane’s enthusiasm was contagious and Troy, who was a high-level sales representative, began sending out résumés. Eventually he received a considerable offer to work as a senior sales representative for a stereo distributor based in Cottonwood, Arizona.

  The other Barretts cried and hugged them both as they packed up their things and headed west. But Jane remained untouched by the event.

  “I’m going to miss your dad’s barbecues,” Troy said idly as they drove across country.

  “Hmm.” Jane was staring out her window.

  “They sure seemed sad to see you go.”

  “That’s how people are supposed to act when someone moves away.”

  Troy took his eyes off the road and
for an instant turned to face her. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, Jane. Your family wasn’t putting on an act when we left. They’re really sad. They love you a lot.”

  She huffed slightly and her eyes met his. “I’ve known my place in my family for years now, Troy. I appreciate what you’re saying, but believe me, they aren’t going to miss me when I’m gone. We’re doing the best thing by moving away.”

  His forehead creased, and she saw the concern reflected in his blue eyes. “As long as you’re not running away from something.”

  “I’m not,” she lied.

  Over the years, Jane and Troy built a home for themselves in central Arizona. They camped among the pine trees on Mingus Mountain and climbed rocks overlooking the Verde Valley. They hiked Sedona’s North Fork Trail and picked wild blackberries along the Verde River. They swam in Oak Creek and marveled over the breathtaking red rocks that brought tourists from all over the world.

  Over the next few years they raised a family, and when the children were old enough Troy taught them how to avoid rattlesnakes. They found a local Christian church and Jane headed up the women’s group. On summer nights, when Troy wasn’t traveling, the two of them would sit on their back porch and watch dazzling sunsets as their children played in the yard.

  Occasionally Jane and Ellen would call each other and spend half an hour on the telephone making small talk. Jane remembered once, after such a conversation, Troy had walked into the room and found her crying, her face buried in her hands.

  “Honey, what is it?” He was at her side, sliding his arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

  Jane drew a ragged breath and shook her head. “It’s Ellen. She called.”

  “Did you two get into it again?”

  “No.” Jane was still crying, but she fought to regain her composure. “It’s just that she and my dad are so close and … I don’t know, maybe I am jealous of that.”

  She fell silent, but she saw Troy studying her closely, watching her face.

  “You sure nothing else is bothering you, honey?”

  “No, really. I’m fine.” Jane forced a smile and patted Troy’s hand. He seemed satisfied that she was telling him the truth and he got up and went back into their home office.