But Anna was used to seeing guests from California dressed in a similar way, and she felt that Sarah was simply going through a fashion phase. Anna even helped Sarah to construct some interesting items of clothing by transforming old pieces of lace and linens and ribbons and things into one-of-akind smocked tops that actually looked rather attractive, in a bohemian way. In fact, something about this manner of dress reminded Anna of how her grandmother used to create interesting garments. Of course, that also reminded Anna of how her mother would frown to see Grandma Pearl walking into the store, especially if customers were around. She'd obviously been embarrassed by her own mother's appearance. Perhaps for that reason Anna was even more determined never to treat Sarah like that. For the most part, she and Sarah were "completely simpatico," as Sarah liked to put it.
However, it was in the summer of 1975 that Anna began to grow somewhat worried for her granddaughter. Although Sarah was only fifteen, in so many ways she seemed much older. Sometimes she even seemed more mature than Lauren. Yet, being only fifteen, Sarah could also act and react like a typical adolescent. And like so many of her contemporaries, Sarah was growing increasingly impatient with her parents, teachers, and leaders in general. Anna was somewhat relieved that Sarah still seemed to respect her grandparents. However, Anna feared that wouldn't last much longer, not with Sarah questioning all forms of authority. Anna didn't voice her opinions, but she suspected there could be trouble ahead.
"Mom is just plain lazy," Sarah said one morning as she and Anna were paddling canoes on the river. Sarah had long since taken over the River Dove during the summer and was very adept at maneuvering around and was even able to catch fish from the canoe—a talent many experienced fishermen marveled over.
Anna knew better than to respond as Sarah complained about her mother. She'd already learned that to attempt to defend Lauren would only escalate the one-sided conversation into an argument. Besides, Sarah was right. Lauren was lazy.
"She never wants to do anything," Sarah continued. Now she started listing all of her mother's faults in regard to laziness in general. Finally Anna could take no more.
"I understand how you feel about your mother's lack of incentive," Anna said gently. "But I think that your mother is truly her own worst enemy in that regard."
"I've heard you say that before and it sounds like a cop out to me." Sarah's dark brows drew together. "What does it really mean?"
"It means that your mother is one of the most unhappy people I know. And I believe what others see as laziness is an inability to function. Really, Sarah, think about it. How would you feel if you lived most of your life in your bed the way that she does? Would that make you happy?"
Sarah stopped paddling, then shook her head. "Not at all. I'd hate it."
"So, while I agree with you that your mother appears lazy, I do feel sorry for her."
"I feel sorry for her too," Sarah said defensively. "I just do not understand her."
"Nor do I."
"She makes her own choices," Sarah continued. "I mean it's not like someone is holding a gun to her head and saying, be unhappy, stay in bed, turn yourself into a vegetable."
"That's true. But as one wise person put it—perhaps even an Indian, I'm not sure—unless you've walked a mile in someone's moccasins, you probably shouldn't judge them."
Sarah laughed. "Well, Mom would never wear moccasins."
Anna grinned at her. "You know what I mean. Now I'll race you back to the dock." Of course, Anna knew that Sarah would win. But at least it would put an end to this particular conversation. It wasn't that she wanted to avoid the Lauren topic altogether, it was simply that it seemed to do no good to talk about it too much. It frustrated them both.
Anna had made every attempt she could think of to help Lauren. She'd invited her for extended visits, offered to come out to Pine Ridge in the off-season to help out. She'd even offered to take Sarah on full time until Lauren got back on her feet again. But all offers were flatly turned down. "I'm perfectly fine," Lauren always told her in way that suggested Anna had stepped over a line by calling.
Anna's last call, just months ago, was because Sarah had informed her that she was seriously worried that her mom was taking too many pills. Sarah feared that Lauren's life was in danger. Naturally Anna had tried to help. But as usual, her offers were brushed off.
"I'm just fine," Lauren had said indignantly. "I went to the country club last night and I played bridge on Tuesday. Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that there's absolutely nothing wrong with me, Mother. You're the only one who seems to think there's a problem. Maybe the problem is with you."
And so Anna had left it at that. Really, what choice did she have?
But to Anna, it felt as if Lauren was stuck—as if she could neither move forward or backward. Just stuck. Sarah probably thought it was even worse than that. And it seemed that no one, not even Lauren's latest psychologist, was able to help. Anna's one consolation about Lauren, at least when it came to Sarah, was that, as a result of Lauren's inabilities, Donald had seemed to step up. In many ways, he had exceeded all of Anna's expectations for him as a father. Not only that, but Ardelle had gotten more involved with Sarah after Eunice's passing. So perhaps there truly was a silver lining tucked into this perennial dark cloud named Lauren.
It wasn't until Sarah's last day at Shining Waters that she told Anna something truly unsettling. "My dad is having an affair," she stated in a matter-of-fact way. Anna concealed her reaction to this, simply nodded as she kept her eyes on the river before them and slowed the boat's engine down. They were in Clark's new fishing boat, a hefty thirty-foot cruiser that he often took out on the ocean. Heading into Florence, where Donald planned to meet them and drive Sarah back home in the same day, Anna knew they were ahead of schedule and more than halfway to town, with no need to hurry.
As the boat slowed, Anna turned to study her granddaughter's profile. Standing tall and proud, Sarah had a defiant look in her eyes. A long, dark strand of hair flew across her face, but she simply looked straight ahead with a firm jaw line. Anna considered asking if she even knew what an "affair" actually was, but then remembered that kids nowadays seemed to know a lot more about everything. Probably a result of too much television. "How do you know this?" Anna quietly asked.
"I've seen him with her."
Anna tried to hide her shock. Sarah had actually seen her father with another woman? What had she actually seen?
Sarah faced Anna now. "I haven't actually seen them, seen them. It's not like I caught them in bed or anything." She pushed the hair from her eyes. "But I've seen them together in Dad's car. I recognized the woman. Her name is Sharon Kross and she's a secretary at the mill. Naturally, Dad has no idea that I know about them."
"Is it possible you're wrong?" Anna asked gently. "Just because you saw them in a car together doesn't mean they are—"
"I saw them making out in his car, Grandma." Sarah tilted her head to one side with a sly expression. "Kissing."
"Oh . . ." Anna nodded as she turned off the engine, simply letting the large craft drift downriver with current. "Then you're probably right."
"Of course I'm right." Sarah scowled. "The big question is what do I do about it?"
Steering the boat to the right side of the river, Anna bit her lip. "I honestly don't know, Sarah. What do you want to do about it?"
"Nothing."
Anna considered this. Really, was it a child's responsibility to do something if she thought one of her parents was having an affair? Or if the other one was using too many prescribed drugs? Where did one go to find these kinds of answers? Anna felt in over her head. She pulled the boat over to the side of the river and turned off the engine. "Sarah, I feel like I should have the answers for you. The truth is, I don't. I'm very sorry that your father is, well, possibly involved with another woman. And I'm sorry that your mother isn't doing a very good job of mothering." She let go of the wheel and put her arms around Sarah, pulling her close, hugging h
er tightly. "I wish I could fix everything for you. I have always wished this." She released her, pushing another strand of hair from Sarah's eyes. "But then I remember the way I was raised. And it wasn't idyllic either."
"But you grew up here, on the river." Sarah's eyes looked hungrily over the water.
Anna nodded. "Yes. But my parents had some problems too. My mother lived in fear much of the time."
"Fear of what?"
"Fear of her Indian heritage. She tried to hide it, tried to pass herself as white, even disowned her own mother more times than I care to remember. That was hard for me . . . and confusing."
Sarah smiled at her. "But you turned out okay."
Anna smiled back. "And so have you."
Sarah nodded. "And, just so you know, it's not like I'm completely devastated by what Dad's doing. I mean it seems like everyone is doing it. No big deal."
Anna wanted to challenge that, to say that it was a big deal and that no one should break a marriage vow. However, it seemed Sarah had enough to worry about.
"At least I have good friends," Sarah assured her.
"That's true," Anna agreed. One of Sarah's best friends, Kelly Rogers, had come out to stay on the river for most of July. The two teens had seemed very close. It reminded Anna of how she and Dorothy used to be as girls, and she'd been encouraged by it.
"So, really," Sarah said lightly. "I don't need parents."
"Yes, you do," Anna reminded her. "Unfortunately, you might not always be able to count on your parents . . . for everything. But you do have Clark and me, sweetheart. And you have your other grandmother too. If you ever need anything, you know you can call us. And remember you're always welcome here on the river. You're getting to an age when you might be able to make a decision like that yourself." Anna was thinking that if Lauren's marriage failed, if Donald and his new girlfriend became an issue, Sarah might need another place to live . . . it was possible that the rules would change.
"I know, Grandma." Sarah made a brave smile. "But, really, I'm okay. I'm so used to taking care of myself anyway; it's no big deal what happens with my parents. Oh, I might feel a little bummed. But as soon as school starts I'll get back to my own routines and I won't even care what Mom and Dad are up to. You know what I mean?"
Anna tried to act like she understood this as she restarted the boat's engine, but her heart longed to snatch Sarah away from her parents, to insist she stay here on the river, enroll in the high school in town, and just live a "normal" life. However, Anna knew there was probably no such thing as "normal." Not here and not in Pine Ridge. Besides that, she'd heard rumors that a lot of the local teenagers were getting involved in illegal drugs. Even if the rumors were overblown, she certainly didn't want to expose Sarah to anything like that.
To Anna's surprise, Donald was already at the docks. However, she almost didn't recognize him. Wearing a brightcolored paisley shirt and bell-bottom pants, it looked almost as if he were imitating a college kid. "Hello, Donald," she said politely, trying not to stare at the bulky gold chain around his neck. Since when had he taken to wearing jewelry?
"I got here earlier than I expected," he said as he reached for Sarah's bags. "Thought we might make it home before dark."
Anna nodded as she reluctantly handed him a duffle. "If you're sure you need to go back today."
He shrugged. "Might as well. We can still get home before dark."
"That is, unless, you want to go fishing." She was trying to think of something, anything, to entice Donald into staying another day, a way to give her an opportunity to confront him about his new girlfriend. "This is Clark's new boat and he loves taking guests out on the ocean with it. You could catch a salmon to take home with you."
He nodded as if just seeing the boat. "Nice boat. And that's a tempting offer."
"You know you're always welcome at the inn."
"I know." He sighed. "But I really need to get back." He playfully punched Sarah in the arm as she climbed off the boat. "Hey, aren't you even going to say hello to your old man?"
"Hi, Dad," she said in a sullen tone.
He rolled his eyes upward. "Teenagers these days. Got no respect for their elders."
Anna controlled herself from reminding Donald that he hadn't exactly been a choirboy as a teen. The way he'd chased after the pretty girls had given their mothers plenty to worry about . . . those were memories she had tried to put behind her. However, it seemed that some people never outgrew their past selves.
Realizing Donald was determined to go, she exchanged final hugs with Sarah, promised to write, then told Donald to drive safely and to give Lauren her love. She watched them walking away and, with a lump growing in her throat, she slowly maneuvered the large boat away from the dock. She wasn't sure if her tears were for Lauren and a marriage that was probably doomed, perhaps from the start, or for Sarah and the challenges she faced.
But as she looked out over the blurry scene of blues and greens, like a lens out of focus, Anna suspected these tears were for herself. She was grieving. Mourning the loss of her sincere, spirited, bright-eyed, energetic girl—the child who'd believed in dreams and ideals was being replaced by a slightly jaded and somewhat cynical adolescent. And the whole thing made Anna very sad. As she guided the boat back upriver, she prayed for Sarah to remain true to herself, and then Anna prayed that she wouldn't lose her sweet Siuslaw princess forever.
27
Anna found it difficult to believe they'd been running the inn for more than fifteen years now, and harder to believe that she and Clark had been together even longer.
"Do you know that a lot of guys my age are considering retirement," Clark said as he unfolded his napkin. It was January, their off-season, as well as Clark's sixtieth birthday. Hazel had just called to wish him well, and now they were enjoying a quiet candlelit dinner for two . . . and reminiscing.
"Do you want to retire?" Anna asked.
He firmly shook his head. "Are you kidding? Retire from what? I am living the life that I love, Anna. I wouldn't change a thing."
She smiled in relief. "I don't feel old enough to retire yet. I don't even feel like I'm fifty-five," she confessed. "I remember when my mother was this age . . . and I thought she was so old."
He chuckled. "Well, you don't seem old to me, darling."
"Maybe age is simply a state of mind." She passed him the potatoes au gratin. "Take Babette. She lived like she was youthful almost her entire life. I had no idea how old she truly was until the end."
"But then there was Eunice," he pointed out. "She was younger than Mom, but she seemed to fade rather quickly."
"I think some of her lifestyle choices might've taken a toll on her health. Perhaps if she'd learned to forgive others earlier on . . ." Anna thought of Lauren now. In some ways she seemed to be following in Eunice's footsteps. But this was an evening to celebrate, not to be somber. And so she changed to Hazel. "Now your mother is an inspiration. There's someone who knows how to grow old gracefully," Anna dished out some asparagus. "It's hard to believe she's pushing eighty and still going strong."
"She is going strong, but she told me just now that this will be her last year to teach."
"Oh?"
"She said that the atmosphere on campus has changed drastically over the past several years. She says the students are apathetic and antagonistic to the point where it takes all pleasure from teaching. It's as if they just don't care."
"It seems much of the country feels the same way." She sighed. "Thanks to things like Watergate and the mess in Vietnam, Americans just seem to be fed up."
He frowned. "It's sure not like it used to be. Even during the worst of times . . . the Great Depression and the war, people maintained optimism . . . they still practiced patriotism. When I hear of kids burning flags and protesting everything and anything . . . turning on and tuning in, dropping out . . . well, it's just a shame."
Realizing the celebratory conversation was taking another dive, Anna picked up her glass of burgundy, hol
ding it up for a toast. "Here's to you, Clark, the most wonderful man in the world and the love of my life. Happy birthday, darling!" She smiled.
His eyes glowed with warmth in the flickering candlelight. "And here's to us."
"And to growing old gracefully together." As they continued with dinner, keeping the conversation uplifting and positive, Anna told him about some new ideas she'd been considering for the inn. "I want to host some events that focus specifically on grace and mercy," she explained.
He nodded, listening.
"Ironically, Eunice is the inspiration for the idea."
"You don't say."
"I realize that many people have difficulty forgiving others, letting go of old hurts, healing from deep emotional wounds. I've had that conversation with many of our guests . . . people who have a hard time moving forward in their lives."
"You know, it almost seems that our whole country is struggling with this, Anna."
"So, in my small way, I'd like to offer a special week now and then where that is the whole focus. I would make books available, perhaps even hire an inspirational speaker and maybe some musicians."
"I like the sound of it, Anna. And I read in the paper that we have some good folk singers in town. Maybe you can hire them."
"I'll try to get the word out to our regular guests first. I thought perhaps we could send a flyer or brochure. And then I might do some advertising."
"Maybe Mom could write an article."
She nodded. "Good idea."
They came up with a few more ideas, and in the following days Anna decided on specific dates and began to implement a real plan. She had just hung up the phone after speaking to a local print shop about making flyers when it rang again. To her surprise, it was Lauren, but her voice sounded so weak and so sad, Anna knew something was seriously wrong. Her first concern was for Sarah. The last letter she'd received from her granddaughter had sounded more rebellious and angry than ever. Anna had written back, trying to share some wisdom, but she had no idea how it had been received. "Tell me what's wrong." Anna said gently.
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