Echoes From The Past (Women of Character)

by Grace Brannigan

  Darrell spun away from her, his hands dug deeply into his pockets. "Christ Christie, why did you have to start this again? Why couldn’t you just bury her like everyone else does the dead? You just won’t let her go."

  Christie stiffened her spine. "Because it’s what she wanted."

  "And you always did what she wanted!" he snapped.

  "I cared about her. I tried to make her happy."

  He swung toward her. "And I didn’t. That’s what you’re saying. That’s what it always comes down to. You’re so much better than me."

  "I didn’t say that."

  "I loved her!" he shouted.

  Christie felt as if she bled inside. "You walked away."

  "I couldn’t stand to see her wither away until there was nothing left."

  "You cared about yourself more."

  "I never stopped loving her."

  "You wished she’d die." The words were horrific and fell from her lips in the midst of anger. She stepped back at the torment she saw in his face and suddenly knew he’d never stopped loving her sister, but he’d dealt with it in the only way he knew how. She put her hands up to her mouth, the fear inside escalating as emotion spun out of control. Numbly, she took a step toward him. "I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry --"

  Without a word Darrell walked past her and out the door. Christie watched him go, she couldn’t stop him. The wounding inside was too great. The pain she had laid at his feet the final insult.

  A shadow fell across the door. Garrett.

  Christie hunched her shoulders. Perhaps it was better that he see and understand the real Christie Jenkins. Angry, scared and perhaps with too much baggage to ever lead a normal life. Christie felt the weight of her own anger and knew everything she held dear was crumbling away at her feet. She wondered if this was how Judith felt at the end.

  ###

  Darrell raced down the steps and out of the barn. Once out in the yard he looked wildly around for Eric. He finally spotted him playing with Hannah by the house. Darrell hurried over to his son, his mind still churning over what Christie had said.

  "Eric, come on, we’ve got to go."

  Eric looked up at him in surprise. "Now Dad? We were going to play another --"

  "Right now!" he said sharply. "We’re going into town."

  Eric stared at him wide-eyed, and Darrell lowered his voice, tried to smooth over the anger and hurt riding him. "We’ll come back later or tomorrow." He made himself smile and he swallowed the bile in his throat. "Say goodbye."

  Darrell gripped his son’s hand and they walked to his car together. Darrell had the strongest urge to drive right through town and all the way back to New York without looking back. Christie had gone too far. She’d always been so smart and now this. When he stopped at a streetlight outside of Emerson, it suddenly hit him that he wanted to run. He didn’t want to deal with all this mess she was bringing up. Ellen’s ashes, her death, the burial. Christie basically had said she loved Eric but the implication was Eric was his responsibility, totally. Frightening.

  Remembering the way Ellen had been sick, Darrell thought about Eric. His son had seen it all, had seen his mother fade and then die, and he’d made it out whole. He was a good kid, but Darrell felt like his brain was being slammed with all of it and he just wanted to cry.

  Darrell pulled over to the side of the road. Looking in the rear view mirror at Eric, he suddenly felt his heart slow down. After several more moments, his thoughts began to clear. He released his death grip on the steering wheel. He wondered if this was the reason Christie left New York, because she couldn’t deal with any of this stress. The hurt.

  Darrell admitted to himself that it was hurt and the pain of loss bombarding him, ripping him apart. God forgive him, he’d blamed everyone for the mess of his life except the one responsible. Himself. Darrell put the car in park and dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. He had left Ellen when he should have been with her and Eric. And Christie. Christie had been the strong one and that’s what ate at him and made him mad.

  "Daddy? Will we ever see Aunt Christie again?"

  Darrell lifted his head and met his son’s eyes. "It’s okay, Eric. Everything is okay. We’ll see Aunt Christie before we leave again. We’re going to stay in town tonight." He got a sudden idea. "We’ll get some pizza and see a movie tonight."

  Eric clapped his hands and spouted off a string of new movies. Darrell drove back onto the road. Maybe by tonight he could pull himself together.

  ###

  Later that evening Christie sat on the back steps of Garrett's house. She didn’t know how she had ended up there or how long she sat by herself. It seemed extraordinarily quiet in the near dusk.

  All afternoon she had relived the moment she had flung those terrible words at Darrell. She had blindly walked past Garrett, wandering around what seemed like hours. Darrell’s car was gone. Had she caused such harm that he’d taken Eric and driven out of her life for good? Christie bit back a sob, knowing it was what she deserved after the hateful thing she’d said.

  The kitchen door creaked open and banged closed, the sound familiar and hollow, the way she felt.

  Christie hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. She saw a jean-clad leg out of the corner of her eye. Garrett dropped down to the step beside her. He stretched his legs out and one thigh brushed hers. That slight contact burned but tension rode Christie, making her stiff inside and out. Her shoulders ached, her head hurt and the place inside where her heart should be felt like it was bleeding. The intensity of emotion was overwhelming, and any control of her life seemed to have slipped away.

  "You missed dinner," he said, conversationally. "I saved you a plate of my famous roast beef."

  "I didn't know you could cook," she said, still strangely out of sync with her surroundings.

  "I haven’t always had Ruth."

  Christie ducked her head and traced her finger over a knot of wood on the step. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Garrett," she said.

  "There's probably a ton of things you don't know about me either." He gently tilted her chin up. "I know I want to learn more about you, Christie."

  "I find that hard to believe after what you must have heard earlier."

  Garrett dipped his head and rested his forehead against hers. The gesture was so simple and trusting Christie wanted to cry. His hand moved to her shoulder, pressed a moment and then fell away.

  Christie traced imaginary circles on her up-drawn knees. "He didn’t deserve what I said to him. He’s left, hasn’t he?" She tilted her head back against the wooden post supporting the handrail.

  "Darrell decided to spend the night in town. I called a friend who owns a local motel. He and Eric will be back tomorrow."

  Suddenly she noticed how the stars hung brightly in the cloudless sky. "He’s coming back?" Christie took in a great gulp of air. "Thank God. I’ve made such a mess of things," she said in a rush. "I snapped that day after the custody case. I threw clothes in a duffel bag like I was a crazy woman. I just knew I had to get out. I must have called work, took a leave of absence. I left my apartment, told the landlord he could have everything in it." Christie looked at him, dry-eyed. "I walked out. At the time it felt like it was the only thing I could do."

  Her lungs hurt. Tension gripped her so tightly it was unbearable, physically and mentally. "All this time I lied to myself. I realized it when I said those terrible things to Darrell. He might have left my sister but at least he said goodbye. I didn’t do that. I never abandoned my sister physically, but I did emotionally, before she died. I was so angry and tired."

  "Caring for a terminally ill person takes a toll on anyone. There’s no need for you to be making excuses."

  "I was an honor student in law school. I quit so I could be home at night with Ellen. There was one moment when it all was just too much." When she looked at him she knew the tears hung on her lashes. Every part of her body trembled and she felt so exhausted. "I wished it was over. In my heart I
wished she would die. I accused Darrell of wanting her dead. It was me ... me, Garrett. She died two days later."

  Garrett's arm encircled her shoulders, assuring her without words that she wasn't alone. She felt a tremor in her hands as something inside began to crumble. She tried to hold it back but her shoulders started to shake.

  Garrett tightened his arm around her. "Let it go. You’ve been holding it inside too long."

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. The tighter Garrett held her, the faster the tears ran. She couldn't stop them.

  Breath rasped through her throat, coming from deep within, and suddenly an upheaval of emotion let loose in her and the tears were released in a torrent.

  Christie couldn't stop the sobbing. She gripped her hands tightly and held her arms between her knees, her shoulders shaking with the force of her anguish. She touched her forehead to her up-drawn knees as spasms wracked her.

  Vaguely she knew Garrett's arms continued to hold her close. Christie released the pain she hadn't given voice to since the death of her sister. She had never grieved. The dam of emotion, the unspoken abandonment had remained hidden, bottled up and waiting to rupture. Christie tried to take deep breaths, but the choice over controlling her emotions had been taken from her. For the first time in her memory, Christie abandoned herself and depended on another person to keep her safe.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ellen was dead and Christie was very much alive. It was a fact, something she couldn't run from any longer. She had tried so hard to avoid the hurt, but like a runaway train she had found the end of the track and now she lay in a crumpled, smoldering heap.

  After a while, the sobs lessened, and Christie sat up, pulling away from Garrett. Shakily, she accepted the handkerchief he pressed into her hand. She felt incredibly weak.

  "God, I’m sorry," she muttered unsteadily, gulping. She wiped her burning, irritated eyes with the cloth. She gave a small laugh, but it sounded like a hiccup. "I’m a mess."

  "That's been stored up a while." He tipped her chin up with a finger, took the handkerchief back and wiped her cheeks.

  Feeling vulnerable, Christie said, "It's kind of scary, getting hit like that. I couldn't stop it."

  "You've got to vent your emotions. Especially someone as strong as you, Christie."

  "Yeah, right. I don't feel strong." She held out a shaking hand for him to see. "Right now I’m as weak as a baby."

  "You supported your sister and nephew, offered them all the love inside you. You should be proud of what you've done. A lot of people would have run from that responsibility."

  "I did run away," she admitted in a low voice. "Don't you see, Garrett, I failed. I promised Ellen I'd give her my bone marrow and she'd get better, but it didn't work. We tried so many treatments; holistic, vitamin therapy, acupuncture, but her illness was too far advanced. I promised her I'd take care of Eric as if he were my own, and I couldn't do that either."

  "Christie, you did the best you could. I didn’t have to be there to know that. In the end, it wasn't up to you. It was her time. Eric is with Darrell, and you know that’s where he should be."

  "Yes." The admission had always been difficult, but now a bit of peace stole into her.

  "I'm not making excuses, but I’ll bet any psychologist would say those thoughts of despair near the end were natural. A culmination of trying to hold everything together and being so tired. We all have crazy thoughts from time to time but we don’t act on them. You wanted your sister’s pain eased and you knew death was the only way. You have no reason to be carrying this guilt. You're a caring, nurturing woman. Your sister knew it. All that’s left is for you to admit it."

  "It’s been haunting me and I didn’t even know it. I blamed Darrell. I controlled my life, every aspect of it, but I couldn't keep her from dying."

  "It's not your job. You're not God."

  Christie felt as if breaking that damn of emotion had released her in some way.

  "You don't have to leave, you know." He touched her cheek with his hand. "Let’s talk for awhile."

  ###

  The next afternoon Christie lifted the slip dress from the bed, the one she had worn to Garrett’s party. She wriggled into it, smoothed it over her hips and stepped into the matching sandals. Slowly, methodically she pulled her brush through her newly washed hair. Walking across her apartment, she stood at the large window overlooking the house and parking area.

  Darrell and Eric had not come back and it was almost four o’clock. Was this to be their final goodbye; angry, bitter words? Had she so alienated him that he wouldn’t come back to say a last farewell to Ellen? She had jeopardized her relationship with her brother-in-law, and therefore Eric. How could she have been so selfish? Should she just have dropped the whole idea of scattering the ashes? Maybe if she had there wouldn’t be a rift between her and Darrell now.

  She lifted Ellen’s keepsake urn and thoughtfully ran her fingertip along the wooden edge of the book. The time had arrived to scatter her sister’s ashes, but she looked outside again, hoping to see Darrell.

  Clasping the book close, Christie left her apartment and walked outside. The air was comfortable, not too warm or cool. The sun was moving low in the sky and it felt like the right time to say goodbye.

  She found Garrett and Hannah waiting for her outside. He had showered, she could see damp, curling tendrils of blond hair along his collar. He wore a dark gray shirt and dress jeans as black as the boots on his feet.

  "Ready, Christie?" he asked quietly. He stood beside his truck and opened the door. "Hop in."

  Christie shook back her hair. "I’d like to walk, Garrett."

  He closed the door. "Sure. I’ll keep you company."

  "Me too, Daddy." Hannah took Christie’s hand.

  Christie smiled at her niece, squeezing her hand lightly. They followed the path that ran beside the paddocks. There was no hurry. The moment had finally arrived, a chapter of her life so long open, now about to close. A final goodbye to Ellen.

  She looked up at Garrett. "Your Kentucky is so beautiful, I know Ellen would have loved it here. This is the perfect ending." She hesitated, then blurted, "Have you heard from Darrell at all? Has he called?"

  Seeing the compassion in his eyes she knew the answer before he shook his head no. "He did say he’d be back today."

  Christie looked at the path ahead. "Today is almost over."

  "Give him a chance," was all he said.

  With sudden clarity, Christie knew that was the answer. "You’re right," she said. "I’ve never given Darrell a chance. I never considered how he felt when Ellen got sick. I jealously guarded my pain and my sister. I shut him out." She put her head down. "I wish I could tell him I’m sorry."

  When they reached the meadow she and Hannah sat in the grass interspersed with the wildflowers. She needed to sit quietly for a moment and think about this last goodbye. Did she recite prayers? She had never really been one for praying. Was it necessary to say a few words before she scattered the ashes? She didn’t know the proper protocol, but something told her to speak the words in her heart.

  Christie looked up at Garrett as he stood patiently nearby. While she had been preoccupied with her own thoughts, he had picked a small handful of flowers. He held his hand out to her now and Christie grasped his fingers, glad of his strength as he pulled her up from the grass.

  Garrett held out the bouquet, a solemn look of caring in his eyes. Christie was reminded of the other time he had presented her with flowers. She stepped close to him and stood on tiptoe. He bent his head and she placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

  "Thank you," she whispered, blinking quickly to keep the tears back. This man touched her as no one else ever had. She clutched the bouquet and met his steady gaze. "I’m ready now."

  "Am I too late?" Darrell asked behind them.

  Christie turned quickly, a cry of relief escaping her. Darrell had come. She handed the book with her sister’s ashes to Garrett and closed the space between her and Darr
ell. Eric was with him also. Christie embraced Darrell, feeling the sting of tears behind her lids. He gave her a quick hug and then Christie reached out to Eric and urged Hannah closer, then hugged them both as a love of family rose up within her.

  "We’re here, Aunt Christie," Eric said simply, giving her a beautiful smile.

  She smoothed his dark hair and squeezed Hannah’s hand. She looked up at Darrell. "I’m very glad of that."

  Darrell shrugged. "Yeah, well, I thought it might be a good idea for Eric, and maybe it will help all of us," he added simply.

  "Thank you, Darrell." The words came from Christie’s heart, which felt full to overflowing.

  She moved back toward Garrett. "We’re all ready." She took the book with the ashes and moved to the top of the knoll. As she stood there, the warmth of the sun touched her, heating the air and releasing a sweet fragrance all around them. She opened the book and then looked back at Darrell. "Would you like to scatter the ashes?" she asked.

  Emotions chased across Darrell’s face. She could see the fear and uncertainty as he hesitated. Eric slipped his hand into his father’s and Christie saw a change come over Darrell. He looked down at his son with an almost calm acceptance on his face. Then he nodded and took the book she held out to him.

  "Goodbye sweetheart," he said quite simply. A slight breeze moved around them as he tipped the book upside down. The breeze carried the ashes across the meadow, scattering them like fairy dust.

  Christie held her breath and closed her eyes as a wonderful peace settled on her. She could almost hear her sister’s exuberant laugh, she could envision her wide smile and the devilment that had always danced in her eyes. "Goodbye Ellen," she whispered, squeezing Eric’s shoulder. "Goodbye Judith."

  "Mommy is in heaven now?" he asked.

  Christie looked down into Eric’s sweet face. She nodded, that was all she could manage.