“Nice to meet you both,” E. J. said, not really meaning it. It wasn’t that he minded meeting Ashley’s friends, but now wasn’t the time.
“I see you’re having a picnic. We brought some food too,” Glenda said, motioning to Marvin and the basket he held.
E. J. held his breath. Please don’t ask them to join us, he thought over and over. I need the time to tell you the truth, Ashley.
“Why don’t you join us?” Ashley moved closer to E. J. “There’s plenty of room.”
“Are you sure?” Glenda asked, then looked at Marvin. “Would you like to join them?”
“You bet,” he said, pushing back a rowdy shock of red hair. “I’ll go anywhere you go.”
Glenda laughed. “You’d better.”
They joined E. J. and Ashley, laughing and talking about people they knew at the Harvey restaurant or on the railroad. Glenda asked about Grandpa Whitman, and Ashley made comments about how quickly he was fading. She also mentioned that her mother was due in town on Tuesday.
By the time Natalie was completely satisfied with her rock expedition, it was time to go. In frustrated silence, E. J. drove back to Winslow. Natalie dozed in the backseat, completely spent from her day of running and climbing. Ashley stared absentmindedly out her window, then suddenly turned to him.
“You were going to say something to me back there. You’d started to tell me something about the past.”
He considered for a moment that he might break the news to her before Natalie woke up, then decided against it. There was always a chance she might awaken in the middle of his explanation. No, he’d just have to wait until another day.
She’d gone eleven years without knowing the truth. He supposed she could wait another day or two.
“It wasn’t important. We’ll save it for another time,” he replied good-naturedly. But inside, E. J. knew a building frustration that refused to be ignored. He had to tell her—and it needed to be soon.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Monday. That dreaded day.
Ashley looked out her bedroom window, then turned to face the room itself. She’d tried to arrange it perfectly, but no doubt her mother would take displeasure with something. How was it that a person could live thousands of miles away and still heavily influence the heart and mind of another?
Ashley smoothed the chenille spread on the bed. The white ridges were dotted with tiny pink flowers and green leaves. Her mother would probably say it was too feminine or too childish. The pillows would probably be too flat and the temperature of the room too cool at night.
Checking the freshly washed and ironed curtains, Ashley inspected the material for any holes or snags. She just wanted to give her mother as little reason for criticism as possible.
Sighing, Ashley took a handful of her clothes and moved them to Natalie’s closet. Hanging her dresses on the bar beside her daughter’s, Ashley bit her lip to keep it from trembling.
“I’m absolutely terrified of her coming here.”
Once the words were spoken, it was almost a relief. It was as if by speaking them, Ashley could finally accept them.
“She will criticize and cause me grief. Of that I can be sure.”
And that was perhaps more troubling than anything else. If her mother were the same woman she’d been eleven years earlier, Ashley knew there wouldn’t be a moment’s peace. And that was what this house had always represented to her. Peace.
This house—this home—had been a respite and a comfort. She’d sought sanctuary here and felt warm and loved within these walls. Now her mother would come and all that would change. The house would become a battleground—no different from the other places Leticia Murphy had stormed.
“I have to get ahold of myself,” Ashley said, speaking into the mirror over her daughter’s desk. She saw her expression in the reflection there and it only served to further discourage her. She looked scared, and her mother would feed upon that like vultures to carrion.
****
“I know she’s afraid,” Russell told his daughter. “She believes her mother will come here and wreak havoc on her life. And she may have a point.”
Lavelle nodded. “If Letty is the same woman she used to be, then Ashley has good reason to believe that.”
Russell fought against the waves of nausea and pain. “I know, but I want her to have hope. Ashley can’t change her mother, but she can change herself.” His words were barely audible, but Lavelle apparently heard, for she nodded as she got to her feet.
“Papa, if I find Leticia to be as she’s been in the past, I’ll speak to her sternly before we arrive. She must understand that she cannot come in here and turn everything upside down. She may not like it, but she will hear me out.”
Russell nodded. “I’m glad you’re going for her and not Ashley.”
Lavelle glanced at her watch. “The pastor will be here momentarily to escort me.”
“You go ahead. I’ll be praying,” Russell said, shifting only the tiniest bit to see if the pain decreased. It didn’t.
Lavelle had only been gone a few moments before a knock sounded on his open bedroom door. Glancing up, Russell smiled weakly and motioned Pastor McGuire to come in.
“I see you’re still taking life easy,” the pastor teased. “How are things today?”
“Difficult.”
“A lot of pain?” Pastor questioned.
“Yes. And I find myself just wishing to slip from this body into heaven.”
McGuire reached over and touched Russell’s shoulder. “The time will come, my friend, soon enough. I don’t desire you to live out your days in pain, but I do cherish your existence. You’ll be sorely missed when you’re gone.”
“You’re one of only a few folks I know who can talk so openly about my dying. It’s a relief, you know, to be able to say the words out loud. It’s not as if it is a secret.”
McGuire nodded. “I know. My mom and dad both said the same thing when they were dying. People avoid speaking of it when they’re with you because they’re afraid of causing you more grief. Yet what they don’t realize is that some things need to be said.”
“Exactly.”
Russell looked up to find Ashley standing in the doorway. He figured she’d heard their discussion, and he quite frankly hoped it might make a difference. Ashley was one of those people who avoided speaking the truth—as if in keeping silent, she might stave off death. It only got worse the closer he came to actually dying.
“Ashley, come on in, child.”
Pastor McGuire looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Yes, do. We aren’t speaking of anything that you can’t be a part of.”
Ashley looked most uncomfortable. “I . . . uh . . . just wanted to let you know that Aunt Lavelle is ready to go. The train is due ten minutes from now.”
“Well, I suppose we should head out, then,” Pastor McGuire said. He offered a quick prayer of hope and comfort, then headed to the door. “Ashley, we’ve certainly enjoyed having you in church when you’re able to be there. I hope you know that.”
Ashley smiled tentatively. “I’ve . . . well . . . I’ve enjoyed it too.”
Smiling, the tall pastor nodded. “That’s music to a minister’s ears. I’ll look forward to seeing you Sunday.”
Russell could see his granddaughter’s uneasiness. It was something akin to embarrassment. “Ashley, would you sit with me for a moment?”
“Sure, Grandpa.” She came to his bedside and pulled a chair close.
“I wanted to talk to you before your mother got here.” He bit back a cry as his side exploded in pain. The shock of it left him gasping for breath.
“Are you all right, Grandpa?”
He opened his eyes and noted her concern. “It’s just this momentary trouble. Soon I’ll be right as rain.”
Ashley frowned. “I heard what Pastor McGuire said. I didn’t know that you needed to talk about dying.”
“It’s not so much the actual dying, but there are things I want to say before I
slip away. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to take the medicine.” She nodded and he continued. “You’re afraid . . . aren’t you?”
Ashley laughed bitterly. “I’m terrified. Of so many things.”
“Tell me.”
She looked toward the wall, avoiding his eyes. “I’m just not that confident of being able to handle things once you’re gone. I’m afraid Mother will come in here and make a mess of everything and demand her way, and I won’t have the strength to stand up to her.”
“I know those things worry you, but God is with you. You’ve only got to reach out to Him.”
“Will God keep my mother under control?” Ashley asked seriously. “If so, why didn’t God do that for you all those years ago?”
Russell knew she desperately needed answers, but he had none. “God is not in the habit of explaining himself to me.” He smiled and it took all his energy. “You’ve got to have trust, Ashley. You can trust Him to be faithful. Let your Mother rant and rave if that’s why she’s come. Let her talk of what money she expects to get after I’m dead. She can only hurt you if you let her. Her words may be caustic, her temperament harsh. But she cannot change the fact that this house is yours and the bank account is yours. She can’t reach into your soul and separate you from what’s most important—God.”
“No, I suppose I’ve done a decent job of that myself,” Ashley admitted. “Grandpa, I’ve been thinking of all the things you’ve told me. I’ve been listening to Pastor McGuire as well. I wish I could say I have the faith to believe it’s all true, but right now I just don’t.”
Her lost expression and the pain in her eyes made Russell wish he could give her his own precious salvation, just in order to see her at peace—happy.
“It’s all God’s timing,” he said, more to remind himself than her.
“I know, Grandpa. I just want you to know that I’m trying to understand it all. I want to understand. I can even honestly say that I want to trust God again.”
He nodded, closing his eyes. “That’s enough for a start. Just give Him a chance, Ashley. He’s more than happy to prove himself to you.”
“God? Prove himself to me?” Ashley asked in surprise. “But I thought it was the other way around—I thought I was supposed to prove myself to Him by trusting and believing and doing all that other stuff.”
“The Bible says that we should ‘Taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.’ See, first it says, ‘Taste and see.’ In other words, give God a try and see if He doesn’t prove to be exactly what He said He’d be. Faith and trust don’t come overnight, Ashley. They grow, and just as people need time to get to know one another, so it takes time to get to know God and grow in trusting Him. But blessed are you when you come to that place.” He closed his eyes, exhaustion claiming the last bit of his strength.
He felt Ashley kiss his forehead. “You rest now, Grandpa, and I’ll be thinking on what you said. I promise.”
He drew a ragged breath but said nothing. Lord, please don’t let this time go wasted. Let her hear your words and take courage. Let her come to you and heal her wounded heart. I cannot rest until I know she is safe.
****
Lavelle stood on the platform waiting for her sister. She squared her shoulders and prepared for the battle to come, believing in her heart that Leticia would come off the train with guns blazing.
She’s always been like that, Lavelle reasoned. She’s always been the kind to act first and think later. She never cares who she hurts or how difficult she makes life for someone else. Those things are immaterial.
Lavelle had never really stood up to her older sister. Leticia had ruled their nursery with an iron will to match that of any adult. Lavelle had just calmly gone along with most any plan Leticia thought up. But I can’t be like that anymore. I need to be strong for Ashley, and I need to stand firm in my faith. Letty won’t like it, but that’s the way it will be.
Now Lavelle fretted over the fact that she’d never found an opportunity to tell Ashley that her father had passed away some years earlier. When Lavelle had first arrived, she’d felt certain she’d have to explain it, because Ashley kept talking about her parents and wondering if Lavelle had had contact with them. But there never seemed to be the right opportunity to speak to the matter of Marcus Murphy’s death, and so Lavelle had left it unsaid. Now she regretted it, knowing that Leticia would be the one to break the news. And no doubt she’d not do the telling in a gentle manner.
Lavelle knew that Leticia blamed Ashley for her father’s passing. Marcus had fretted and worried over Ashley’s disappearance—that much Leticia had shared with Lavelle. Letty felt he had worried himself into the grave over Ashley, and she probably held Ashley accountable for the matter. Regret washed over Lavelle. “I should have told her,” she whispered.
The westbound Santa Fe passenger train blew its whistle from down the track and Lavelle held her breath. She walked out a pace from the depot and exhaled softly. Lord, give me strength to deal with my sister. Give me love to shower upon her, even though I don’t feel very loving.
The train pulled in and groaned and ground to a halt. Porters and other railroad men moved into position to make the detrainment as simple and orderly as possible.
And then before Lavelle knew it, Leticia was stepping from the train. She looked for all the world as though she owned not only the train she’d just come from but the land upon which she’d just stepped. Overdressed in an elegant three-tiered bolero coat and dress by Chanel, Leticia demanded attention. The dark red color made Lavelle immediately think of blood, and she couldn’t help wondering how her sister would stage the first lethal blow.
“Leticia,” Lavelle said, going to her sister. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”
“Is he dead yet?”
The opening thrust of the sword.
Lavelle startled at the question. “No. Our father is still alive. I think perhaps he’s been holding on to see you again.”
She made a huffing noise and turned to look past Lavelle. “Where is she?”
“Who?” Lavelle questioned, completely taken aback by her sister.
“You know perfectly well. Ashley. Where is she? I suppose she doesn’t have the good manners to be here.”
Blow number two.
“She stayed home with our father,” Lavelle explained. “Someone needed to be there, and I told her I thought it best if she stayed and I came.”
“I see. Well, let’s not dillydally at the station,” Leticia said. “I’ve come this far; I might as well finish it. I’m sure there’s much to be done. I certainly can’t count on anyone else to have managed Father’s affairs. The incompetence in this family speaks for itself.”
The third in what was to become a long line of plunging attacks cut Lavelle to the quick.
“Leticia, before we go, I want to say something.” Lavelle lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “You were not asked here in order to create a scene. Our father is dying, and I do not wish to see him in any more pain than he’s already enduring.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leticia shifted her matching handbag and stared at her younger sister.
“I’m talking about you. It is my fondest hope that you will be peaceable with Father and with Ashley. They are both suffering in this, and I don’t want to see them hurting more than they already are.”
“Might I remind you, you are my younger sister. I did not seek your advice. Furthermore, I do not intend to stand here and be dressed down by anyone—but especially not you.”
Lavelle bolstered her courage. “Leticia, you’re a headstrong and often cruel woman. I won’t stand for it this time. You’ll either conduct yourself civilly or—”
“Or what?” Leticia laughed haughtily. “You have no power over me. You’re as destitute as most of these people.” She waved her arm to the departing crowd. “I have enough money to buy and sell you many times over. I’ll hire a lawyer if need be, but
you won’t stand here and threaten me.” The woman’s dark eyes seemed to blaze with fire.
Lavelle remained calm. “I’m not trying to threaten you. I’m merely stating that our . . .” She paused. She’d started to reference the house as belonging to their father, but that would never do. Better to set the stage early. “Ashley’s house is a peaceful one at this point. Father is much beloved in this community, and it would grieve those around him to know his own daughter cared nothing more about him than to cause him even more pain. I want to see him die in peace.”
Leticia pushed past her sister. “And I’m just ready for him to die.”
****
E. J. was relieved to have the workday behind him. He had thought to go to check up on Ashley and her grandfather but remembered that her mother was coming to town today. Her mother was the one person who very well might remember him. He couldn’t risk running into her—not just yet.
He whistled and made his way to his room at the Harvey House. He hoped to simply spend the night reading his Bible and praying. There was still the matter of telling Ashley the truth, and he hoped he could keep his courage to do so by drawing closer to God.
“Mr. Carson, wait up!”
He turned to find Natalie running after him. “I drew you a picture at school today.” She waved the folded paper as she approached.
“Why, that was very kind. What is it? The meteorite crater?”
“Nope. This is the house I’m gonna build my mama someday.”
She came to a halt in front of him, her pigtails resting down her back. He took the paper from her and opened it. There, in a very detailed manner, was the house he’d once designed for his wife. Of course, it was an amateur attempt, but he easily recognized it.
“Do you like it?”
E. J. nodded. “I like it very much, Natalie. Thank you.”
“Sure,” she grinned. “I think my mama likes you.”
E. J. was taken aback. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, she sure never took trips with anyone else. I think she only let you take us to the meteor crater because she likes you.”
[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years Page 17
