East of the Sun: a 20th century inspirational romance.

by Hope Franke Strauss

  That morning he’d put on a pleasant face for Sophie’s sake, giving her a long hug and a lot of kisses on her forehead, and making sure she was safely buckled into her car seat.

  “You can change your mind, Eden.”

  She shook her head and jumped into the car. She never looked back.

  The doorbell rang, shaking Eden from her reverie. She got up to answer it.

  “Pizza here.” The young man handed Eden the box and gave her a slip to sign. “Uh, the boss wanted me to tell you that the account needs to be paid up soon.” He seemed embarrassed. “Uh, if it’s not, he’ll be closing the account. I mean, it’s usually payment on delivery only, eh? But Joe made an exception for Mrs. Emerson for some reason.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll pay it now. What’s the total?”

  “Ninety-three, seventy-two.”

  Eden gulped. He had to be kidding. How much pizza did Mom eat? It was her turn to stammer. “Uh, uh, just a minute. I’ll get my cheque book.” She filled out the cheque and signed it, all the while wondering how many other such accounts her mother had open out there.

  Eden dished out the pizza onto three plates and poured three glasses of water from the tap. No milk or juice in the fridge.

  “Who was at the door?” Eleanor asked, “Was it Josh? Is he home yet?”

  “No, Mom. It was the pizza guy.”

  Watching Eleanor eat made Eden feel nauseated. Eleanor swiped a length of greasy hair off her face, smearing her wrinkled skin with sauce. A pineapple chunk dropped onto her sweater.

  “Is Josh home yet?”

  “No,” she replied wearily. “He’s not.”

  Eleanor hadn’t even swallowed before asking again, “Is Josh home, yet?”

  Suddenly, Eden felt like screaming. She was physically and mentally spent from the split from Cade, the nine-hour drive, and now this. Why couldn’t things just go her way for once? She stood sharply and cleaned up, putting the left over pizza in the fridge.

  “Time for bed, Sophie. Mommy’s really tired.”

  3

  Eleanor

  1943

  Ellie trod softly around the sleeping figure to the open window. She pulled the glass panels closed, and slipped the lock. Even though a cool breeze had flushed out the room, the taint of sickness never lifted. It was part of the room as sure as the bed, dresser and chair were that occupied it.

  All of Ellie’s memories of her mother were tied to this room. She once overheard her father tell a neighbour that Ma had never been the same since the baby. How she had caused her mother’s illness, she never knew.

  Laboured breath escaped through bluish, chapped lips. Ellie tenderly applied ointment to soften them, rousing the sleeper awake.

  “My dear, Ellie.”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you, Ma.”

  “That’s fine. Heaven knows I sleep enough.”

  “Here, drink this.” Ellie lifted a glass of tepid water, and propped up her mother’s head. The woman took three meagre sips then let her head drop.

  “The roses have died.” Three soft stems were bent over, scattering dry petals on the floor.

  “I’ll bring you new ones, Ma.”

  “Not just yet. Sit down with me for a moment.” Ellie rested on the edge of the bed. “You take good care of me. I wish I could have been a better mother to you.”

  “Hush, Ma. You can’t help…”

  “I know. Now, listen to me.” She reached for Ellie’s hand. “I’m thankful for the few times since you were born, when I was strong enough to sit in the living room, and even sometimes to work in my gardens. It makes my heart glad to see that you love them, too.”

  “If it weren’t for me, you would be well!”

  “Ellie Williams! You mustn’t think like that. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. A gift from God himself!” She paused, breathing in short breaths. “You’ve made many sacrifices to make me happy. Don’t think I don’t know it. I want you to be happy now. Soon…”

  “Ma, please, don’t.”

  “Yes. When it’s time, don’t grieve long for me. Take your life and live it to the fullest.”

  “Ma, someday you will be well.” She patted her mother’s thin, bony hand with feigned confidence. “Now, I need to get supper ready. You just rest. I’ll come back to check on you shortly.”

  Ellie stood up to leave. Pa would be home from the mill soon, and he expected something hot on the table.

  4

  Eden

  WHILE Sophie and Eleanor watched Little House on the Prairie reruns, Eden scouted out the upstairs. There were four rooms: one bathroom, “first door to the left”, the second door belonging to the master bedroom, a den across the hall which was Josh Emerson’s office, and Eden’s old bedroom at the back of the hall which still had the branch of an elm tree scratching against the window.

  She pushed on the bathroom door. It slunk open to a cleaning lady’s nightmare. The sink was ringed with grime, and the toilet bowl looked like it had been borrowed from the Eastern bloc. Eden pushed the shower curtain back, unveiling the need for more cleaning. A small bar of soap had slid to the bottom of the tub along with a container of shampoo with the lid off, its contents spilled and the edges dried and cracking.

  All the other rooms cried out for a vacuum, a job Eden was prepared to leave until morning.

  Eleanor’s room was not at all like the polished, organised room of former years. Her clothes lay haphazardly on the floor, her dresser tops in disarray. Only the left side of the bed showed signs of being slept in. The sheets on the right remained taut and unused, a reminder that her father really was gone.

  On the dresser Eden recognised a “pet rock” paperweight she had made for her mother in grade six. She picked it up and began to peruse the papers it held down. Eleanor had cut out several newspaper articles, mostly of cruise specials through the local travel agency, which explained to Eden her obsession with Mr. Kipper who supposedly was off vacationing with Aunt Lillian. There was a collection of coupons, along with a phone bill from two years previous. Eden hoped that her mother had paid that long ago.

  Eleanor’s worn black leather bible still sat on her night table by the lamp, the thick layer of dust evidence that it had not been read recently. Eden gingerly picked it up, remembering how as a child she had watched her mother read this book every evening. Sometimes she would snuggle in beside her mother, who would read aloud to Eden, her smooth voice soothing and melodic, and Eden would fall asleep in her arms, always waking up in her own bed with no recollection of ever going there.

  When Eden fanned the pages, two legal-looking documents fell to the floor. She swooped to pick them up and examined them carefully. The first was her father’s death certificate. An unfamiliar sadness swept over her. Living up north, Eden could almost forget that her father had actually passed away. She rarely saw him anyway; their relationship had been strained since she was a teenager. Her parents were forty years old when she was born and by the time Eden had hit her teens, she thought they were too out of touch with what was “in and cool.” She felt a twinge of regret. She sure wished she could talk to her dad now.

  The second document was creased and faded with age. It was her parents’ marriage certificate. Eden squinted, taking a second, longer look at the details. It stated that Joshua Emerson and Eleanor Williams were married in 1946. But, Eden knew that was incorrect. They were married in 1964, two years prior to Eden’s birth. It must be a typo, she thought. Forty-six, sixty-four—the numbers were inverted. It sure looked authentic though. Eden sucked in some air and shook off the spookiness.

  Just a mistake, an erroneous document. She filed it with the other papers.

  Eden returned to the living room, settling in next to her daughter. Eleanor chose that moment to leave. Eden was beginning to get a complex.

  “What’ya watching, sweetie?” Eden said.

  “Goofy.”

  Eden had missed the latest re-run of the enviable Ingalls family, and now watch
ed as Goofy and his “Pops” somehow survived all their unbelievable mishaps. Eden wondered if she would be as fortunate.

  “It’s almost bedtime,” Eden said to Sophie.

  “I’m not tired.”

  “That’s because I let you sleep too much this afternoon.”

  She saw her mother from the corner of her eye, coming down the stairs then pivoting like Michael Jackson to return the way she came. Eden decided to ignore her, and continued to watch the show with Sophie, though she had to confess to letting her eyelids droop occasionally. It was on one “eye-half-open” occasion that she saw Eleanor again as she came down the stairs towards the couch. Eden swung her head sharply, her eyes zeroing in on Eleanor’s face.

  “What did you do to yourself, Mom?”

  For some bizarre reason Eden couldn’t fathom, Eleanor had decided that she needed makeup. Her face had a thick coat of foundation that streaked down her neck. Her mouth was exaggerated with red lipstick exceeding past the outline of her lips, and her eyebrows were penciled on in such a way as to make her look like she was being electrocuted. If it wasn’t so horrible, Eden thought, it would be funny.

  “Is he home yet?”

  “Mom, I think you need to have a shower.” The scent coming from Eleanor was anything but pleasant. Eden didn’t want to know how long it had been since her mother had bathed.

  “I just had a shower.”

  “You did not.”

  “I did so.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll help you.” Eden was surprised by her mother’s willingness to be guided up the stairs. She led her to the bathroom where she stood obediently while Eden scrubbed out the tub.

  “Do you need anything? A nightie? A housecoat?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Eden left her alone, closing the door on her way out. She had made a pointed effort not to look at her ragged reflection in the mirror.

  After being satisfied with the sound of running water, Eden returned to her daughter. She barely made it down to the living room when the water stopped. She pushed herself back off the couch and shuffled back up the stairs. Eleanor was heading towards her bedroom.

  “Mom! You didn’t have a shower.”

  “I did so.”

  “You’re not even wet.”

  “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

  Eden watched as Eleanor closed her bedroom door behind her. She sighed heavily, admitting defeat. For now.

  Tomorrow the battle would begin anew.

  5

  Eden

  EDEN hadn’t meant to doze off. Her right arm flung limply, unable to hit the alarm button on her clock radio. It kept slipping just beyond her reach. She pulled herself awake. It wasn’t the alarm ringing, she realised. It was the phone. She hurried across the room, shaking the fogginess from her head, wanting to get it before the caller hung up. She hoped it was her Aunt Lillian but instead it was Cade.

  She could picture him: his eyes glaring, back stiff, muscles tight around his mouth. He would be staring out the front window, not seeing the forty-foot pine tree that broke up the view of Landers.

  The condo was their second home together. They’d lived there for four years, since the birth of Sophie. Together they had purchased furniture, plants, and pictures for the walls. But that was in the past. Meaningless to Eden now.

  “I just wanted to make sure you and Sophie made it okay,” he said.

  “We’re fine.” Eden didn’t want to get into the problems she was having with her mother. Or the car, which began to act funny just as they had approached city limits. By the time she’d turned down her parents’ long, tree-lined drive, it would only run in second gear. Problems for her to deal with tomorrow, not tonight, and not with Cade. She didn’t want to sound like she needed help, and especially not from him.

  “Is Sophie there?”

  “Uh, yeah, hold on.” Eden called Sophie and gave her the receiver. She left to tackle the bathroom once again. Mustering up battle-line courage, Eden threw herself into the task of toilet scrubbing and sink rinsing. She brushed her teeth and called for Sophie. They were going to bed. Eden didn’t care if it was only eight-thirty.

  Sleep came mercifully. She had been in dreamland mere moments it seemed before she was awakened by a loud clang down below. Every horror story she had heard zipped through her mind in seconds. They were about to be stabbed to death in the night, tomorrow’s front-page news. The veins in her temple threatened to burst.

  Gathering her wits about her, Eden slipped out of bed, developing a plan of attack. Normally, she would wait tucked safely under her covers as Cade investigated, but this she would have to handle on her own. Should she just make a lot of noise upstairs, hoping to scare the intruder off? Or should she wait at the top of the stairwell with a weapon? And what weapon?

  Unable to sit and do nothing, Eden crept down the stairs to get a glimpse of the enemy. The light in the kitchen was on. No burglar would be that stupid, she thought. She ventured closer. The mad thief was her mother, sweeping the floor again, or trying to, at 3:30 in the morning. Eden spent the next thirty minutes convincing her mother that the floor was clean enough and that it was necessary to go back to bed.

  The next day started with thick eyes and matted hair, cured by a hot shower and a cup of strong coffee. The matter of the empty cupboards needed immediate attention. Since Eden’s car was grounded, she rounded up her charges for a walk to the nearest store.

  “Sophie, put on your shoes,” Eden said. “We’re going shopping with Grandma.”

  Eleanor put on a sweater Eden thought quite unnecessary, but not worth squabbling over.

  Vancouver was breathtakingly beautiful in the summer, Eden thought. She never tired of the year-round view of snow-capped mountains or the air that smelled of sunshine and seaweed. A salty breeze blew eastward, slightly soured by exhaust fumes. Eden filled her lungs deeply, comforted by its familiarity.

  She held Sophie by the hand and followed her mother down the sidewalk, through a new development of houses, past a gas station on the corner, and to Kipper’s Market. The place had been there for years, though it appeared to have been recently remodelled and expanded. Eden remembered walking there to buy penny candy as a child. The bell above the door still tinkled with the same four brass tones every time it opened and closed.

  The clerk behind the counter was a younger version of the Mr. Kipper Eden used to know. This was obviously his son Justin, whom Eden remembered from high school. How does one feel upon meeting an old acquaintance one has not seen for six or more years? One feels self-conscious! Especially, Eden thought, if one had been a snob to the other one who had turned out to be rather handsome. No longer short and scrawny with silver braces flashing from his mouth, Justin was tall and fit, with long sandy blond hair tied back, and Eden could only hope that he didn’t remember her.

  Eleanor picked out some items and placed them on the counter. More bread, more cat food. Eden handed her a jug of milk and a can of juice, childish in her attempt to avoid making contact with Justin Kipper.

  “Is that all for today, Mrs. Emerson?” he asked.

  “Uh-hum.” Eleanor sniffed

  “I assume that’s on account.” Justin glanced around the store. “Is Lillian not with you today?”

  “Yes, she’s here. I know you’d rather see her.” To Eden’s mortification, Eleanor pointed towards her. She was tempted to pretend she didn’t know the crazy old lady, but she caught a glimpse of recognition in his eyes. He knew who she was. No getting out of it now.

  “Hi. I’m Eden.”

  “Of course. I thought I recognised you. How are you?”

  “Oh, good,” Eden lied. “How about you?”

  “Also good. I’m just helping out my old man temporarily. He twisted his ankle last month,” Justin said, quickly. “I’m a freelance photographer by trade so my schedule is flexible.”

  “Wow, really? A photographer?” Eden was duly impressed. “That sounds interesting.”

  “Yeah
, it is. I majored in photojournalism, but my true love is, you know…” He made quotation signs in the air with his fingers. “Those ‘Kodak Moments’.”

  Now here was an intriguing individual, Eden thought. Intelligent, talented, and… were his eyes always that blue?

  “You’re looking good, Eden.” He grinned crookedly, a move used to disarm the ladies, she suspected. And it worked.

  “Thanks. I just moved back, staying with my mom for a while. Uh, sorry about the way she’s acting. She thinks you went on a cruise with my aunt.”

  His eyebrows arched above hazel eyes that twinkled with amusement. “Oh, really?”

  Eden nodded sheepishly. Why did she tell him that?

  He changed the subject. “I heard you were married?”

  “Yeah, but that hasn’t worked out.” Eden, pushed her hair behind her ears, and glanced away. A failed marriage wasn’t her proudest achievement.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She caught his eye again. “You?”

  “No.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “No luck there.”

  Sophie left Eleanor’s side and tucked herself under Eden’s arm. “Justin, this is my daughter, Sophie.”

  “Hi, Sophie. Good to meet you.” His gaze moved back to Eden. “Your daughter is beautiful which is not surprising.”

  Eden smiled widely like a flirtatious schoolgirl. She had fussed with her hair more in the five previous minutes than she had all week.

  “Mommy, can I get this?” Sophie held up a package of candy. Eden nodded quickly, then turned her attentions back to Justin Kipper.

  “So, you know my Aunt Lillian?”

  “Sure do. She usually comes in with your mother.”

  “Have you seen her lately?”

  “Not since the Caribbean.” He winked, and Eden’s knees wobbled. “I haven’t seen her for at least two weeks.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t suppose Mom’s account’s been paid up?”