“We wanted to come and say good-bye and to bring you a few things,” Kelly called.
Gary Rhoades and his wife, Mary, came alongside Kelly and Joey. “We wanted to send you off properly,” Gary said. His tone was serious, but he offered Jana a smile that bespoke compassion and genuine concern.
Jana stiffened. I won’t let myself get hurt again. I can’t care about these people. She wanted to send them all away. To chastise them for something that wasn’t even their fault.
Bill had finished unloading the furniture from the house and came to join the group, as did his helpers. Gary looked to Kelly and nodded. Kelly in turn looked to Roberta Winsome.
The older woman motioned to a younger man, whom Jana knew was her grandson, to come forward with a large sack. “I’ve made you some goodies for the trip,” Roberta announced. “There’s also some extra to take to your mom and great-aunt. Thought it might help you feel better not to go to them empty-handed.”
Jana felt dumbfounded and for a moment had no idea what to do or say. Were these people for real? Did they honestly think to comfort her with baked goods? She immediately regretted her sarcastic thoughts. They were trying their best—it wasn’t their fault. She had to get a grip on her emotions, but it was as if her hands were too slick to hold on to them.
“We also pitched in to get you a few things to remember us by,” Kelly said, coming forward with yet another sack. “There are a few books we picked up for you and some other things we thought might bring you comfort.”
Jana continued to stare at them. She wanted to say something, but she knew if she opened her mouth her words would be harsh—sarcastic. Why can’t they just go away and leave me be? I don’t want to hurt them.
“And the elders voted,” Gary announced, “and decided you deserved this.” He extended a card. “We’ve given you a sort of severance pay. You worked as hard here as Rob did, and we want to reward you for it.”
Roberta nudged her grandson. “Go put those things in the car. Take Kelly’s bag too.” The young man did as he was told, but still Jana could only watch. She couldn’t even will herself to reach out and take the card that Gary offered.
Kelly seemed to understand and came to put her arm around Jana. “It’s not much, but we wanted you to know how special you were to us. We want you to know that you’re always welcome to come back. We know it can’t be comfortable for you right now, but maybe in time you’ll want to return.”
Jana finally forced out her thanks. “It was kind of you to come.” She took the card, seeing that Gary was growing rather uncomfortable. “I’m sorry . . . I don’t know what else to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Kelly replied. “We didn’t come here for a speech. We came to give you these things and to pray with you. We don’t want to send you off without prayer.” Some of the group nodded, while others verbalized their agreement.
Jana bit her lip. Prayer? They want to pray with me? Isn’t it a little late for that?
But even as she was thinking this, the people gathered around her. Several of them reached out to touch her, while Kelly looped her arm through Jana’s. Gary suggested they all bow their heads, but Jana could only stare wide-eyed at the group.
I don’t want to hear their prayers or their sympathy. She was glad now that she’d never mentioned the baby. Gary was already thanking God for having the chance to know Jana. Her heart hardened a little bit more. Was Gary also thankful for knowing Rob? Would he have wanted the young pastor and his wife—wanted to know them and care about them—if he’d known this moment would come?
Kelly was praying now. “Watch over her, Lord. Keep her from harm.”
Keep me from harm? Where were your prayers weeks ago, when my husband was planning all of this? Where was God’s protection from “harm” then?
Even at this time, Jana knew that little by little she was building a wall that would help her survive the pain. If she quartered herself away from people—kept her heart hidden behind a protective shell—she wouldn’t be hurt anymore. And after all, wasn’t this exactly what her mother had tried to teach her?
“Don’t care too much about people, Jana.” Her mother’s words echoed as clearly as if she were standing at Jana’s side. “You’ll only end up hurt. Focus on something that can’t be taken away from you—something you have power over.”
But what was that thing? It wasn’t friendship, because soon enough these people would forget about her and leave her behind. It wasn’t the child she carried, because Jana knew from her own experience that mothers and daughters could be as distant as the east was from the west. What one thing could Jana cling to and know that she could trust?
“Let Jana hold on to you, Lord,” Kelly was saying. It almost seemed prophetic, but Jana refused to yield to that idea.
God can’t possibly care about me. He just can’t. I wouldn’t be standing here now if He was truly concerned with my well-being, Jana thought. If these people only knew what a farce it all is—that we aren’t safe or cared for. She wanted to scream at them all. Yet looking around the circle of peaceful expressions, Jana knew it would do little good. These people were convinced that God did care—that His love could conquer all problems.
I’d like to believe that is true, but it hurts so much right now. Maybe I can think about all of this later. But for now, I’d just as soon be left alone.
The prayers concluded and everyone came up to hug Jana and wish her the best. She found herself offering a weak smile. There was nothing left to do. It was time to go.
“I left the keys to the parsonage on the counter. I . . . well . . . I don’t know if Rob left his set with you. I only had my own.”
“I have Rob’s keys,” Gary said.
Jana drew a deep breath. She should have figured that Rob would have planned for every detail. She moved to the car and opened her door. Kelly remained at her side, although she had released her hold.
“Call me and let me know you’ve arrived safely, okay?” she requested. “Here’s my number and a calling card.”
Jana took the items and stared at them for a moment. “I’m not going that far. Only five hours or so.”
“That’s a long ways for a woman by herself,” Kelly chided. “I’d just like to know that you’re safe and sound. Please?”
Jana looked into her pleading expression. “All right.” She supposed it could do no harm to allow this one bit of comfort.
Fighting her emotions, Jana got into the car and started the engine. She tucked the phone card into her purse and looked at the house one last time. I thought I was happy here, she reflected with a sadness that threatened to swallow her whole. “I guess I didn’t know I wasn’t happy.”
Six
At forty-eight, Eleanor Templeton was a refined woman who liked peace and order in her life. She dressed in nice clothing ranging between selections from the department store discount racks and name-brand designers. She went to the beauty shop once every two weeks and had her short, dark blond hair trimmed and occasionally recolored. And she continued to manage her New York business, a large independent bookstore, from this remote location in Montana.
“I’m so excited about Jana coming!” Taffy gushed, fairly dancing around the room. For a woman who was approaching eighty, she certainly had more than her fair share of energy.
“I think it’s a mistake,” Eleanor said, speaking over her cup of tea. “I’ve considered this ever since she called, and I think it’s wrong. What if her husband comes back to make amends?”
“I’m sure the people at the church will give him the address.” Taffy began rummaging through the kitchen drawers. “Where did you put the aprons?”
“They’re in the laundry room cupboard. Why?”
Taffy straightened and smoothed her sweater. The lavender-and-yellow creation trimmed around the neck with wisps of dyed purple rabbit fur was better suited to a teenager, as far as Eleanor was concerned, but Taffy was known for her extravagant sense of fashion. Her long blac
k skirt and ankle boots completed the look, but for the life of her, Eleanor couldn’t figure out why the old woman thought this a sensible outfit for a senior citizen.
“We need to clean the Rose Room,” Taffy told her niece. “Jana said she’d arrive today. I’ve put it off too long now as it is. If only I hadn’t promised time to the senior meals delivery, I could have spent it cleaning. But you know Elmira Rogers couldn’t be expected to continue her duties with a broken arm.”
“That room is perfectly acceptable. Let Jana clean it if it needs additional attention.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” Taffy said indignantly. “This is my house. I wouldn’t ask a guest to come in and clean such a mess.”
“It sounded to me like Jana was asking to be much more than a guest,” Eleanor replied, unable to keep the disapproving tone from her voice.
“She is more than a guest. She’s family, and we’ll treat her as such. I’ve never understood the way you handle her. She’s your daughter and you’d think you two would be very close.”
“My relationship with Jana is no one’s concern but mine. But I can tell that her coming here will disrupt everything.”
Taffy laughed. “Good. I hope so. We’ve grown too quiet and boring.”
“I like it quiet. You should too. You’re nearly eighty years old, Taffy. You need to slow down and take better care of yourself.”
The old woman frowned and looked down at her body and back to Eleanor. “I’m in better shape than you are. I exercise for thirty minutes every morning and walk five miles a day. I have yet to see you walk around the block. Honestly, Eleanor, you should consider the specks in your own eye before worrying about mine. I read just the other day that olive oil is good for you. Why don’t you buy us some when you go to the store? We’ll eat French bread and olive oil every day and see if that doesn’t help your disposition.”
Eleanor stiffened. She had never fit anyone’s image of what she should be, and now her aunt figured that olive oil would make life better. If only Taffy could understand that the hurts of days gone by could in no way be benefited by olive oil.
“I’m sure moderation is the key to life,” Eleanor finally replied, getting to her feet. She put her cup and saucer in the dishwasher, then turned to find Taffy had already left the room. She could hear her aunt opening cupboard doors in the laundry room. Apparently they would clean the Rose Room whether Eleanor wanted to or not. It was a good thing she’d dressed casually, though she wasn’t sure her suede pants were exactly appropriate for housekeeping.
“I found them!” Taffy announced, coming back into the kitchen with two aprons. “Here’s one for you.” She tossed the apron at Eleanor.
“I’ll gather the cleaning supplies.” Her tone still bore disapproval, but Eleanor tied the apron on nevertheless and went to work. She knew better than to refuse. If she walked away from the job, Taffy would simply do it by herself.
“You know, the Rose Room has always been one of my favorites,” Taffy said as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. “I still think it’s a marvelous room. The southern exposure is good for one’s health, you know. Perhaps we should move you into that room.”
“Taffy, my health is fine. I had a physical not two months past,” Eleanor protested.
“Still, a little extra sun never hurt anyone. I read the other day that the sun provides valuable vitamins. Can you imagine that?” She stopped on the stairs, waiting for Eleanor’s response.
“Yes, I’ve heard about the value of the sun. But I’ve also heard about the dangers. Which is why I’ve told you over and over to use sunscreen when you go for your walks.”
“I don’t like smearing lotion all over my body. My pores can’t breathe,” Taffy countered. “That’s not good for you either. I read it in one of my ladies’ magazines. I told you they were worth having.”
Eleanor stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Taffy had subscriptions to at least thirty magazines. Eleanor had tried to get the old woman to cancel the orders and save her money, but Taffy only chided her for interfering with her quest for knowledge.
Taffy was again headed for the last bedroom on the west wing. Turning to the left, Taffy opened the door and pushed it back with great flourish. “Ah, the Rose Room.”
It was aptly named for the rose-printed wallpaper. Eleanor thought it a ghastly room, reminiscent of the Victorian age. Large cabbage roses and twining greenery were offset with green trim around the baseboards and windows. Overhead, the walls were topped with white crown molding and a white ceiling. Below, the hardwood floor was accented with a rose-and-green rug that had been created uniquely to match the wallpaper.
The room smelled musty and old. The furnishings had been stylish when first purchased in the 1950s, but Eleanor seriously doubted anyone but an antique collector would have interest now. And perhaps even they would shun the heavy oak monstrosities Taffy loved.
“My, but it is dusty in here. We should have started sooner,” Taffy said, pulling on her pinafore-styled apron. “Sometimes I don’t know how the time gets away from me.”
“We should consider taking on a housekeeper,” Eleanor commented, putting the cleaning supplies on the floor.
“Nonsense. Especially now that Jana is with us. Why, we will positively run right over each other in cleaning. A housekeeper would have nothing to do.”
Eleanor watched her aunt, silently wishing she could feel the same enthusiasm. Nothing ever seemed to discourage Taffy or get her down for long. For as long as Eleanor had known the woman, Taffy had always been a light of hope and encouragement. People used to come from all over the globe to spend time with her aunt, it seemed. Most were likely now dead or no doubt they’d still come.
“Oh my. Can you believe this old thing?” Taffy asked as she pulled a dated satin gown from the closet. “I had this for the presidential inauguration in 1953. We were good friends with the Eisenhowers, although Adlai Stevenson was also a dear. In fact, I have a recipe for pork chops that his cook gave me shortly after the election.”
She held up the faded blue gown and posed with it against her. “My, but I felt like dancing all night in this wondrous creation.” Then without warning, she tossed the gown to the bed and began to take off her apron. “I wonder if it still fits.” She pulled her sweater off, and before Eleanor could even comment, Taffy was working herself into the strapless dress.
“The most important thing about a gown like this,” Taffy said as she pulled up the side zipper, “is having the right accessories.” She leaned back into the closet.
“We’re wasting time,” Eleanor said, trying not to sound too impatient. Taffy was always chiding her for her lack of patience.
“Here they are!” Taffy’s muffled voice declared. She straightened and pulled out two long white gloves. “These were absolute necessities for this style. Look,” she said, pulling them on over her elbows. “Don’t they just make it perfection?”
Taffy took herself to the cheval mirror and admired her appearance. “Oh, I feel twenty again. Of course, I was a bit older than that at the inaugural ball, but not by much. I had the most marvelous time.”
Eleanor wanted to say something about those days being long gone but held her tongue. It was bad enough that the woman was twirling around like an eight-year-old. “Taffy, we really need to get this work done.”
“I don’t know why women don’t wear gloves more often. They feel delicious.” She suddenly stopped. “I didn’t think you cared about this room. You said we should let Jana clean it.”
“Well, now that we’re here, we might as well get it done. I’m just not looking forward to any of this. I can’t understand your joy over having someone who has made such a mess of her life coming here to disrupt our peace.”
Taffy cocked her head, as if pondering the truth of Eleanor’s comment. “Well, she may have a messy life, but messes are made all the time. The important point is to clean them up.” Taffy began pulling off the gloves. “Like this room. It’s a lovely room b
ut hardly serviceable at this point. It just needs the mess cleared away.”
“Jana’s life isn’t a bedroom that can be cleaned, Taffy. She has some very big problems to confront—issues that won’t simply go away.”
Taffy placed the gloves on the bed, then unzipped the gown. “And this room could be as messy as the attic. Bigger messes just require more time to clean—more patience.”
“It’s not that simple and you know it,” Eleanor replied in her most serious tone. Sometimes she thought Taffy might be losing touch with reality.
“Human beings are never simple,” Taffy replied softly. “That’s why they need God. Only the Creator could understand His creation and what they need. Why, the Bible says that God can cleanse away all unrighteousness. So why would He have any trouble cleaning up a little girl’s life?”
“Jana’s no little girl. She’s a grown woman whose husband has run off with his secretary. She’s going to have to face a divorce and the problems that come with being betrayed in this manner.”
“But she doesn’t have to face them alone. She’s a Christian, and she knows that God will help her through these bad times. You used to think the same thing. You used to believe that God cared. Why, I remember when you found Jesus.”
“I found Him, all right,” Eleanor said in anger as she picked up a bucket. “And like everyone else in my life, He didn’t want me.”
“Eleanor! You know that isn’t true. How can you speak such a lie?” Taffy actually sounded angry. It surprised Eleanor.
“I say it because that’s the way I feel. My life has proven to me that God has no real concern for my well-being.” Eleanor headed for the door. “I’m going for some water.”
* * *
Taffy stared at the place where Eleanor had stood and shook her head. How could her niece be so hard-hearted? Sure, she’d endured more than her share of misery, but pain and sorrow haunted every life. Not just Eleanor’s.
Taffy finished dressing and began to fold the satin dress. How she longed to share some encouragement with Eleanor. Some glimpse of light that would give her strength for the journey. The light, of course, was Jesus, but Eleanor wanted no part of Him. She would often comment about Taffy’s upbeat personality and positive spirit, but she refused to believe it was as simple as abandoning her life to a higher power—to the only power worthy of her love.
What She Left for Me Page 5
