What She Left for Me

by Tracie Peterson

  “I’m your mother’s sister,” the woman explained. “My name is Taffy, and this is Cal, my husband.”

  Eleanor crossed her arms and pressed her body against the back of the chair. “So what?”

  “The court is appointing them as your guardians. You will live with them from now on. If you run away or cause them any problems, you’ll be brought back here.”

  She wondered about the couple. The woman looked nothing like her mother. Were they really related to her?

  “I don’t even know these people. How do you know they aren’t lying?” Eleanor protested. “Besides, what about my brothers? No one has told me anything about my brothers. And what about my dad? What about my mom? Did they have a funeral?”

  Taffy knelt down beside Eleanor’s chair. “We had a small funeral, and once you leave here with us, we’ll take you to where we buried her.”

  Eleanor stiffened as the woman reached out to pat her arm. “What about my brothers?”

  The administrator shook his head. “That isn’t information I can give out.”

  “We will look for them, just as we have looked for you,” Taffy declared. “We really do want to help you. Please give us a chance.”

  Eleanor found no condemnation in Taffy. Not then, and not five weeks later when the woman realized how hopelessly inept Eleanor was at social and living skills.

  Living with Taffy and Cal was something of a dream after Eleanor’s other experiences. Her aunt and uncle were rich for one thing, and Eleanor didn’t want for anything—except understanding of where the rest of her family had gone.

  The house, a palatial mansion in upstate New York, was something Eleanor couldn’t have even imagined. She wished she could share it with Sapphira. The bedroom Taffy gave her was bigger than most of the houses Eleanor had grown up in, and the furnishings were tasteful and expensive. Including the fine china cup Eleanor had just broken.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, bending down to pick up the pieces.

  “A lady must never bend over like that,” Taffy instructed. “Crouch down, bending your knees. Keep your legs together and then pick up the pieces. Like this.” Taffy showed Eleanor by example. “You’re wearing a skirt, and when you bend over like that people can see . . . well . . . all the way to China,” she said with a laugh. She smiled at Eleanor as she attempted to squat. “There, that’s better.”

  They cleaned up the mess without a single word of condemnation from her aunt. Eleanor didn’t quite know how to take it. “I’m sorry about the cup,” she finally said.

  “Nonsense. It’s just a thing—meant to be used. You didn’t mean to break it; it was an accident.” They both took their seats, but Eleanor felt awkward and all thumbs as Taffy poured her a second cup of tea. “Let’s try again.”

  “Why is this important?” Eleanor asked.

  “Because you’ll be invited to parties and teas. You need to learn some social skills in order to keep from breaking other people’s china. Besides, we want to put you into a very nice school, and unfortunately there are many rules and structured routines that need to be followed.”

  “I don’t want to go to school,” Eleanor said, shaking her head. “They’ll just be mean to me.”

  “Not for the prices we’ll pay,” Taffy said, laughing. “Actually it’s a very nice school with very well-behaved young ladies. But you have very little composure. You simply weren’t taught, and I’d rather work with you prior to sending you there. That way they won’t laugh at you, because you’ll perform just as well as they do.”

  But it wasn’t quite that simple. In fact, it was nearly a year and a half before Taffy felt Eleanor could handle such an adventure. In the meantime, a private tutor was hired to help Eleanor learn the things that would be expected of her in a structured schoolroom.

  Eleanor learned fast, faster than anyone expected. She had a great love—a passion actually—for numbers and reading. She flew through her studies and impressed everyone with the way she managed to catch up to her age group. By the time she was sixteen, Eleanor was enrolled at a posh day and boarding school, feeling confident of being able to hold her own with any of the prim young women who had been born to a life of privilege. But something else happened to Eleanor along the way. In order to survive, she was determined to never care about anyone again. She even guarded her heart against the vivacious Taffy.

  That was probably the hardest part. Taffy had done nothing but love her and give to her. Taffy gave her time, her money, her love. Eleanor could find no fault with the woman, but neither could she yield her heart to Taffy. There was too much danger in loving other people. Hadn’t she already realized that?

  Eleanor graduated shortly before her nineteenth birthday, and the feeling was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She had accomplished something for which people praised her. Her teachers and the principal commended her performance as near genius. As she presented the valedictorian speech to her small graduating class, Eleanor knew she had accomplished something no one had ever believed her capable of doing. Well, no one but Taffy. Taffy had made it clear that Eleanor could be whatever she wanted to be, and Eleanor had come to believe it.

  “We’ve bought you a new car for graduation,” Taffy announced. “But that isn’t all.”

  Eleanor looked at Taffy and then Cal. Both had been so good to her. She had never known life could be like this. So calm, so ordered . . . so peaceful. Here at last was the place where she could feel content. Gone were the memories of her father’s sinful wrongs against her and her mother’s suicide. Gone was even the worry about what had happened to the brothers no one seemed able to track down. None of it mattered anymore, because Eleanor simply would not allow it to matter.

  “We’re going to Europe,” Taffy announced. “Just you and me. We’re going to do the grand tour.”

  “Europe—really?” Eleanor asked.

  Taffy laughed. “Yes. Our bags are already packed; what little we’re taking, that is. We’ll shop and buy all new clothes in Paris and London. We’ll have the most marvelous time—you’ll see.”

  It was all so unreal to Eleanor. She thought briefly of her life in the commune and shook her head. Her father had been wrong. The world wasn’t a horrible place with unhappy people. Sure, some people chose to be unhappy, but then there were people like Taffy and Cal who had a great zest for life. Eleanor had never seen her aunt so much as shed a tear or use drugs to escape the pains of her life. And why should she? There were no pains in Taffy’s life—at least none that Eleanor could see.

  Eleanor smiled and took the keys Taffy handed her. “Well, before we go, I want to try out my car.”

  Taffy laughed and motioned to the door. “But of course. The plane doesn’t leave for six hours.”

  Eleanor paused by the back door and looked over her shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you both.”

  Thirty

  Eleanor looked at Jana. “It was a strange time in my life; things were so perfect and good. Dealing with my past and the guilt was hard, but I kept stuffing it down, refusing to let it harm me. Instead, I focused on other things. Europe was unlike anything I could have imagined. Taffy knew so many people—dignitaries and even royalty. We stayed in wonderful homes, palaces, and rambling estates. I went horseback riding, skiing, boating, shopping. Nothing was denied us.”

  “It sounds incredible,” Jana admitted.

  “It was. It was like being reborn. I had been so unaware of what the world offered. Even the wonder of sleeping in a real bed and having clean sheets. I’ll never forget how incredible that felt. I experienced movies and television, parties and great wealth. I learned about politics and the games people played in those arenas. It was quite an education.”

  “What happened after your trip to Europe?”

  Eleanor could see that her daughter was completely drawn into the story, and to Eleanor’s surprise, she found that it was somewhat freeing to share it. Still, there was an awful detail yet to be told: the terrible truth about Jana’s birth.r />
  “I went to college,” Eleanor said absentmindedly. Should I tell her everything? Will she be able to deal with the truth—especially now, in her condition? “I went to Harvard. Taffy got us a small apartment in Boston. She was gone a lot with Cal, of course, but when she was there we had a great deal of fun. I worked in a small bookstore, mainly to escape having to be a part of the social scene. I found that I was tired of parties and men trying to entice me into a relationship. I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s girlfriend.”

  “I never knew you went to Harvard,” Jana said, shaking her head. “I thought you went to college when I was young.”

  “I picked up some classes, but I already had two years at Harvard.”

  “What made you quit?”

  Eleanor drew a deep breath and shook her head. “I was doing well in my classes, but I became more and more aware of the type of classes I was good at: science. My professors and adviser began to recommend a premed path. When I realized I was taking after my father . . . well . . . it freaked me out.”

  “I can understand that,” Jana said softly. “What did you do?”

  “I started losing interest in my studies. I skipped class—a lot.” Eleanor remembered it all as if it were yesterday. “I started failing and told Taffy I just couldn’t deal with the stress. I even went to a psychologist for counseling. He told me it was some kind of neurosis and gave me something to calm my nerves. I guess now they’d call it posttraumatic stress syndrome.” She shrugged, realizing the diagnosis wasn’t important. “They determined that I was severely depressed and needed a change of scenery and lifestyle. Taffy decided I should put my education on hold and we would travel. We went all over the U.S. and Europe. I enjoyed the escape.”

  “But you didn’t deal with the problem,” Jana interjected, “and that had to make it worse in some ways.”

  Eleanor looked at her daughter, and as she recognized the compassion in her expression, she felt a deep sorrow for the lost years between them. Regret was a companion Eleanor had never allowed, but now it seemed she couldn’t avoid it.

  “It did make it worse—at times,” she finally admitted. “But I tried to keep from thinking about my problems, and Taffy was a good one to keep me from focusing too long on sorrow.”

  “Yes, she’s very good at that.”

  Eleanor thought carefully of how she might share the details of her life in those days before she found herself pregnant with Jana. She knew the truth would hurt—maybe forever change the life they had together.

  “Taffy and I rented a flat in London. Uncle Cal was appointed as assistant to the U.S. ambassador, and he and Taffy would spend a good deal of their time there. Taffy thought it wonderful fun for us to find the perfect place and decorate it together. I must say it was a nice diversion. I have very pleasant memories of our time together. London was a fascinating town.”

  “I’d like to go there someday,” Jana said wistfully.

  Eleanor stared at her oddly for a moment. It had never even entered her mind that Jana might enjoy such a thing. “We’ll have to do it, then. Maybe next summer when the baby is old enough to endure a trip like that.”

  Jana smiled. “Do you really suppose we could?”

  “I don’t know why not. I’ll have the business sale finalized by then, and we’ll have plenty of money. I’d imagine even Taffy would want to go.”

  “I couldn’t picture us making the trip without her.”

  “Neither could I.” She let her mind drift back to those weeks in London. “Taffy made London seem almost like a fairy tale.”

  ****

  There was something about London that spoke to Eleanor. Maybe it was the ancientness of the city—maybe it was the regal sense of royalty and pomp. Whatever it was, Eleanor found that London held a sort of balm that she had not expected.

  They managed to find a lovely Georgian apartment with a large number of suites and sitting rooms. Taffy was pleased.

  “We’ll be able to entertain here in grand order,” she told her niece.

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Eleanor replied, studying the architectural design of the room. Someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to create an artistic trim in white marble. Grand columns looked like they were built right out of the wall, stretching up on either side of the fireplace and ending in a detailed pilaster that blended right into the room’s crown molding. The details gave the high ceilings a character all their own.

  Taffy fingered the draperies. “I think these will do. They aren’t all that old.”

  Eleanor glanced at the heavy gold damask. “I think they make the room look regal.”

  Their days in London were spent adding their own personality to the new home, as well as keeping up with the right parties and people. Eleanor was fascinated by all that took place. She spent her days shopping on Oxford and Regent streets, and occasionally when Taffy was buying for Cal, they would go to Saville Row. Fortnum and Mason was Taffy’s favorite place for specialty foods, and she and Eleanor shopped there religiously before each special tea or party.

  Eleanor loved the ambiance of London and occasionally made her own way, walking in solemn study of various churches and palace homes. Her favorite was Westminster Abbey, where she imagined the history of England playing out. Nothing was as charming or wondrous as her time in London.

  Neither was it as painful and detrimental.

  Eleanor gradually became aware of problems between her aunt and uncle. Taffy was unhappy with Cal for several reasons. His mood had changed. He was drinking more and indulging in gambling, which constantly worried Taffy. His philandering was also more evident. More than once Taffy caught him in the arms of the maid or housekeeper. She also began to hear stories from their friends, and the details were quite troubling.

  After several weeks in their new home, Eleanor began to hear arguments between her aunt and uncle. She’d never experienced this before and it concerned her greatly. She tried to talk to Taffy about it, but the woman wouldn’t see her burdened with such misery.

  “I’ve known what kind of man I married since the day we said ‘I do.’ But I had hoped he might change,” Taffy told her seriously. “Remember this before you marry, Eleanor. Don’t go into a relationship believing you can make a man any different than he is.”

  “I don’t plan to marry,” Eleanor said, realizing she meant it. She hadn’t given such matters much conscious thought, but now it seemed logical. “But neither,” she added, “do I intend to live with any man.” She shook her head, remembering how hopeless she had felt the day her mother had admitted to merely living all those years with Eleanor’s father.

  “I suppose the thing for us to do is put our hearts back on the proper path,” Taffy told her. “I’ve long been remiss in seeking God.”

  “Seeking Him for what?” Eleanor asked. She still had horrible memories of that foster home where God had been sorely misused.

  “Let’s have some tea—maybe go to Harrods afterward,” Taffy suggested. “I’ll tell you all about it over something wickedly delicious.”

  When they were settled in a small shop with tea and scones, complete with clotted cream and strawberry jam, Taffy continued. “Eleanor, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I was raised to believe in God, you know. I came from a family where God was a fierce judge of all we did or did not do. But over the years, I’ve come to understand that God was something more. God truly cares about us and our hearts.”

  “How can you say that? You’ve seen the way people misuse religion and God. You know what those people did to me in the foster home.”

  “Yes, but that isn’t what I’m talking about. I’ve been reading some books—books that make me feel much different about God. I’m hoping you might read them too. I think if we can find a small church—not a great cathedral, but rather an intimate gathering of people who believe as we believe—then we might benefit greatly and find our souls assuaged.”

  “But what do we believe?” Eleanor asked, putting her china cup do
wn. “I’ve only seen the confusion and penalties of believing in God. I don’t understand Him, nor do I think I want to.”

  “But you would give it a chance for me—wouldn’t you?”

  ****

  Eleanor pulled herself out of the memory and looked at her daughter. “I gave her a chance because you know how persuasive Taffy can be. But what amazed me more was she was right. I found myself overcome with a peace that I couldn’t begin to explain as I turned to God and accepted Jesus as my Savior.”

  “I didn’t know you were saved, Mom.”

  Eleanor let out a sigh. “Something happened. Something that caused me to walk away from God.”

  Jana seemed to instantly understand. “My father.”

  Eleanor realized the time had come to explain the truth. “Yes.” She halted, not sure that she could or should continue.

  “Please, Mom. I need to know.” Jana’s pleading was Eleanor’s undoing.

  “I told you that Taffy was growing very unhappy with Cal. He was constantly chasing one skirt and then another. And he wasn’t doing much to hide that fact. We were constantly caught up in the social life that was demanded of us as political figures, but Taffy wanted only to get away, so we began to plan a trip back to the U.S. We purchased our tickets and scheduled the flight for two weeks later.

  “Taffy told Cal we were going and told him why. She said he needed time to rethink his priorities and decide for himself if he wanted to make their marriage work. This really surprised me,” Eleanor admitted. “I hadn’t expected such a thing from Taffy. I’d only seen her happy and confident, but then I realized she was just very good at keeping things under control.”

  “How did you find out she’d told Uncle Cal all of this?” Jana wondered aloud.

  “I overheard them one evening. I couldn’t sleep, so I’d come down the back stairs for something to eat. I was in the kitchen trying to figure out where the cook had put the leftover roast when I heard something upstairs. I lost interest in my snack because I could have sworn it was Taffy screaming. Not in surprise, you understand, but rather in her demands.