What She Left for Me

by Tracie Peterson

  “I am. In my own way.”

  Jana thought her mother looked older—more weary. It bothered Jana, especially when she thought it might have something to do with her own arrival. “Taffy certainly knows how to have a good time,” she offered, growing uncomfortable.

  “She does. She knows how to be happy and have fun. All the things that have eluded me,” Eleanor said honestly. “Sometimes I envy her and other times I despise her.”

  “Why?” Jana couldn’t help but ask. She’d fully intended to head upstairs and soak in a nice hot bath, but something in her mother’s tone held her captive. It was so out of character for her.

  “I guess because she’s so comfortable in her own skin. She’s truly happy. I’ve not ever known anyone as happy as Taffy.”

  Jana sat down at the table and looked at her mother as if seeing her for the first time. “You’ve really not been happy, have you, Mother?”

  Eleanor considered this for a moment. “I never felt that I could afford to be happy, Jana. I guess it stems from childhood.” She paused and Jana feared that would be the end of the conversation.

  “I’ve given a lot of thought to the questions you’ve asked,” her mother began again. “Questions about the past—your father—my childhood. I was always convinced that if I forced the memories to remain in the past and refused to think about anything unpleasant, those things couldn’t hurt me. They’d have no power over me.”

  “I’ve often thought the same,” Jana admitted. “Maybe because that’s the way you raised me.”

  “Maybe,” Eleanor said. “This is hard for me to say, but I hope you’ll hear me out.”

  Jana nodded. Wild horses couldn’t drag her from this spot. Her mother was actually opening up, and Jana wasn’t having to force the words from her. Her mother was actually volunteering information.

  “You were a part of the past I put from me. I see that now. I didn’t see it at the time. I thought I was helping you to be strong and self-sufficient. I thought I was molding you into a responsible human being who wouldn’t be dependent upon anyone—not parents, not a man . . . not even God.” Her mother’s gaze grew distant. “I wanted you to avoid the pain and misery that I’d known. I wanted you to be safe from the things people might do to you. I figured if you trusted no one—if you stood only on your own two feet—then you would call the shots. You would determine what to allow in your life. But now,” her mother said, shaking her head, “now I know it was more than just that.” She looked at Jana. Her eyes were piercing, searching. “I didn’t understand that I was putting you away as systematically as I was every other thing or person who could hurt me.”

  Jana started to say something but held her tongue. Her mother was making a confession of sorts, and she didn’t want to interfere.

  “Jana, you were a hard reminder of the days gone by. You were a reminder of the pain and sorrow I’d endured. You were like a doorway, and by keeping you close at hand, I feared I might actually pass through the threshold into the awful truth of what had been.

  “I know it wasn’t right—I see that now. You weren’t to blame, but you were an intricate part of it. I did what I did to protect my heart, but I didn’t think about what it would do to yours.”

  She looked away again. “I sentenced you to as much misery as I had known—by my own hand. Now that I see it, it’s almost more than I can bear. I was selfish. I was terrified.”

  “Of what?” Jana couldn’t help but ask.

  “Of you,” Eleanor replied, turning back to meet her daughter’s eyes. “Don’t you see? I’d known all sorts of rejection and lies. Fierce betrayals that I couldn’t bear to endure even in memory. I couldn’t risk that happening again. I couldn’t risk growing close to a child—loving that child—and then being rejected by that child.

  “I knew that if I poured my life into you, I would end up being hurt. Sooner or later you would betray me, and Jana, I couldn’t let that happen. I knew that if it did, I’d go insane.”

  “Insane?” Her mother’s choice of words surprised Jana.

  “Yes. Things had happened that had nearly destroyed me. I knew, unlike most of the people around me, that I wasn’t the strong character they thought me to be. I was barely hanging on by a thread. I constantly thought of suicide.”

  “You?”

  She nodded slowly. “I wanted to die—I thought it was the only way to forget the past completely. I truly figured to take my life, but things happened and I found it impossible.”

  “What happened? What things kept you from killing yourself?”

  For several minutes Eleanor said nothing. Then the answer came in a voice that was almost inaudible. “You.”

  Jana took in her mother’s statement and shook her head. “Me?”

  “I found out I was pregnant with you. I could reconcile taking my own life, but not yours. You weren’t to blame for my unhappiness, although my guess is I made you feel that you were. I just wanted a way out, but there never has been a viable option.” She sighed. “There still isn’t.”

  “You still wish you were dead?” Jana dared the question, her heart breaking for her mother. It was the first time in a long while that she’d felt something more than hatred and anger.

  “I don’t wish myself dead. I just wish the memories would stop . . . the pain would end. You have to understand, Jana, your coming here brought so many things back to me. I don’t know how to deal with that, and because of it,” she said honestly, “I don’t know how to deal with you.”

  Jana searched her heart for the right words. “I wasn’t asking to be dealt with. I just wanted to be loved.”

  “I know, and in the only way I knew how, I have loved you. But I wasn’t strong enough to be a real mother. I don’t know that I am strong enough now. I know you hate me because of that, but I can’t help it. I’m weak, and frankly, I’m terrified of the future for you and this baby.”

  Her words caught Jana off guard. “Why?”

  “Because I know how hard it is to be a single mother. Because I know how difficult it is to invest yourself in a situation where so much pain has walked before you.” Her voice broke. “I don’t want you to end up like me, Jana.”

  Jana reached out on instinct and covered her mother’s hand with her own. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Nothing she could say would add comfort or well-being to her mother’s state of mind. Perhaps this simple gesture would relay her thoughts.

  I want to start over, Jana thought. I want to begin again. It’s not too late. I just know it’s not too late.

  Twenty-four

  Autumn in Montana moved in with a subtle change of temperature and lighting. Before Jana even realized it, the trees had turned to gold and orange, the brush a brilliant red and yellow, and the grass a buff brown. Farmers baled hay as though snow might come any day, and in truth, Taffy said it could do just that. Therefore, the entire atmosphere of September and early October was completely different from the summer.

  “Winter can be quite hard up here,” Taffy told her one day as she trimmed back her rosebushes. “We can be buried in snow or suffer sub-zero temperatures for weeks. A person has to be ready.”

  Jana believed in preparation as well, but her plans were focused on the child she would deliver in a couple of short months. The baby moved often and reminded Jana that she was not alone. Of course, her mother and Taffy helped her to realize that as well.

  Things had changed between her and her mother after Taffy’s party. Jana and Eleanor were still not close, but something different was starting. Like a tentative truce. Not a real understanding, but at least it was something. The anger had dissipated—at least for the most part. Jana still had moments of frustration and the feeling that she could do nothing right, but even those passed more easily and did far less damage than before.

  Jana felt she understood her mother better, and because of that, she’d asked very few questions in the months that followed their discussion on Taffy’s birthday. She instead be
gan to see her mother’s frailty. The woman she’d always believed to be as hard as rock, as strong as steel, wasn’t at all what she thought. Her mother had a delicacy about her that Jana had never bothered to notice.

  One thing that had changed and truly surprised Jana was that her mother had offered her a job in her book business. Jana was stunned, but Eleanor went on to explain that she was considering getting out of the business altogether. If Jana wanted no part of it she could definitely understand, but on the other hand, if she did want to be involved or even have the business for her own, Eleanor no longer wanted to deny her that. After all, Jana’s father had purchased the business for them.

  Jana surprised her mother and herself by agreeing to learn enough to be helpful. But, Jana explained, she’d truly rather be involved in interior design, as she’d studied to do at school. She was pleased that her mother didn’t get mad. In fact, she was supportive, telling Jana that it was probably wise to stay with her passion.

  So there were many things with which to occupy her mind, but still Jana found her thoughts consumed by memories of Rob. She supposed it was because of the baby. She didn’t know if it was a boy or girl—she’d specifically told the doctor she didn’t want to know. But she kept thinking about it. If she had a son and he looked like his father, would she grow to resent the child?

  She wanted to put the past behind her—to deal with the resentment and anger. She wanted all of those things put into neat, orderly packages and stored away before the baby came. But could that even be done? Was it reasonable to want such a thing?

  Taffy told her there was a difference between truly dealing with her past and simply pushing the memories aside. Jana knew her mother was an example of someone who just shoved things aside, and she didn’t want that for herself.

  She had to admit she was a bit fearful she might end up treating her child poorly, all because of who his or her father had been and what he had done. She supposed Kevin’s comments at the birthday party had only brought to the surface the thoughts she’d buried inside. If a complete stranger could imagine the potential for her to judge her child by his parentage, Jana knew she had to face the facts herself.

  Each person, she reasoned, deserves to be treated based on his own merits, not his parents’. I’ve always believed this. But can a person hold something against another without even realizing it?

  Jana continued to contemplate this, which in turn stirred up old questions. Questions about her birth and her father. Questions about her mother’s childhood and Grandmother Melody’s death. She wanted to brave those questions with her mother, but the uncertain peace the two had between them was probably too fragile to risk. If Jana were to show true compassion and concern for her mother’s feelings, she would have to let the matter drop—at least for now.

  This was the conclusion Jana came to as she sat on the porch, enjoying the crisp morning air. Rather than deal with issues of her childhood, she tried instead to remember something that would have signaled the demise of her marriage. Some sign that things weren’t as they should be. Perhaps it might somehow lend understanding.

  She remembered an evening in January when Rob came home from the church. He seemed to avoid her, telling her that he was sweaty and wanted to shower first. She wondered now if he’d been trying to hide the fact that he’d been with Kerry.

  Another time came to mind when she had wanted to talk to Rob about having a baby, and he’d suggested maybe it wasn’t a good time for them to have a family after all. This had confused Jana, because prior to that moment, Rob had been the one who’d instigated the idea. He’d been talking about their having a baby for nearly a year.

  Maybe his growing closeness with Kerry had brought about the change of heart. He’d only mentioned it once, however, and he’d never come back to the topic after that. Jana thought at the time that it was nothing more than momentary cold feet at the idea of such serious responsibility. Even she had her moments when she wondered if getting pregnant was the right thing to do. After all, what did they know about being parents? But now there was certainly no turning back.

  “So here you are,” Taffy declared, coming around the porch. She had been planting tulip bulbs and still wore her kneepads and gloves.

  “Yes, I was enjoying the morning.”

  “They say it will rain later this afternoon, so I thought I’d better get to work on those flowers.”

  Jana nodded and patted her belly. “I’d help you if I could get down on my knees. I swear this will be a big baby, but the doctor tells me the size is just right.”

  Taffy laughed and pulled off her gloves. “I’ve heard every mother-to-be say the same thing. I wouldn’t fret over it one bit.”

  She sat down on the porch steps and leaned back against the rail. Jana found it hard to believe her great-aunt was eighty years old. The years didn’t slow her down at all. It must have been the good life she’d lived. She no doubt had always had plenty of money to take care of herself and plenty of people to support her should she be in need. Jana envied that.

  “Stanley thinks we’ll get our first snow soon. He says his knee is swollen and hurting him something fierce, and it only does that when it’s going to snow.”

  “I think I’ll enjoy the snow.” Jana liked cold-weather clothes. The bulky sweater she wore now would work even after the baby was born.

  They sat in silence for a time, staring out at the yard, lost in their thoughts. Jana thought Taffy might be the perfect person to discuss her heart with, but at the same time she worried about being too open. A big part of her still wanted no part in being vulnerable to Taffy or Eleanor. She kept hearing the same messages play through her head like a broken record: Don’t get too close. Don’t care too much. Don’t trust.

  It was all a part of the heartache that haunted her life, and Jana didn’t know any way to break the cycle. Well, how do you break a bad habit? she thought. You just stop doing it. And you keep at it—you keep not doing it. Was that the same way it would be with false thinking—with damaged thinking?

  “Aunt Taffy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you ever have to forgive someone for something really big? I mean like me forgiving Rob and Kerry or even my father—for deserting us?”

  Taffy gave Jana a look of compassion. “Child, everybody has to forgive someone for something big. It’s all a matter of what you deem big. I’ve had my problems and painful moments. Don’t think that just because I am happy now doesn’t mean I haven’t struggled. I thought I’d explained that before.”

  Jana leaned forward but her stomach wouldn’t allow her to bend too much. “But there’s a difference between forgiving someone who accidentally hurts your feelings or does something to you without meaning to and people who do things . . . things they meant to do and knew full well were wrong to do. Have you had to forgive someone like that?”

  “Of course. The point isn’t whether or not I’ve suffered through horrible things—the point is whether or not I forgave them.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Taffy thought for a moment. “Do you remember a time back when we talked about my childhood?”

  Jana nodded.

  “Well, if you’ll recall, I mentioned that I was sixteen when my little sister was born. Now, I was as excited about a new baby in the house as anyone, but what I didn’t expect was the way that baby would dominate our lives. I felt completely forgotten when Melody came. First of all, remember again that the Second World War was going on. My mother was completely absorbed in my sister, and my father was caught up in the war. I was pretty much left to my own devices. I had been in boarding school, but because of the war I came home. A part of me resented that, while at the same time I was relieved to be close to my loved ones.

  “But the real problem was the way my mother no longer had time or interest in me. I questioned her about it one day, and she told me that the baby was more important to her. She said it wouldn’t be long before I found a man and married and left her b
ehind without another thought. It was her plan, I truly believe, to leave me before I could leave her.”

  “Oh, how sad.” Jana couldn’t imagine anyone rejecting Taffy.

  “I learned to forgive her, although for years I wanted nothing to do with her or Melody. I was jealous, even after Cal came along. And of course, Cal was an entirely different matter. A whole different reason to forgive.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you two were very much in love. What happened?”

  Taffy closed her eyes. “My Cal was quite the looker, but of course I told you that. He drew attention to him wherever he went. He was worse than the Kennedy boys.”

  Jana shook her head. “The Kennedy boys—as in President Kennedy?”

  “Only he wasn’t the president then. His father was an ambassador in England for a time, and they definitely lived the good life. The boys were being groomed for politics even then. But so, too, was my Cal. Cal was grooming himself. He had great plans for his future. He wanted to be in the limelight. He loved attention. He loved female attention especially.”

  “Did he ever cheat on you?” Jana asked frankly.

  Taffy opened her eyes and met Jana’s gaze. “Only about a hundred times.”

  “What?” Jana couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “You’re kidding me.”

  “I wish I were.” Taffy straightened. “Jana, you think I’m happy because you believe I’ve never had to deal with horrible hurt and betrayal, but you’re wrong. I’m happy because I’ve learned to let God take the injustice of it all and forgive. I’ve learned that my heavenly Father cares more about me than any human being ever could and that my trust should be firmly placed in Him—no matter my circumstances. When that happens, and only then, you can stand strong against the most brutal attacks.”

  “But I was trusting God when Rob and Kerry ran off.”

  “And now you won’t trust Him, because Rob and Kerry ran off, is that it?” Taffy’s eyes were piercing, and Jana looked away.

  “He let me down.”