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

by Hope Franke Strauss

  “It was a tough time for both of us. I could have done things differently, too. I shouldn’t have left you. I should have given you more time. You needed me, and I wasn’t there for you.”

  “It’s okay. Like you said, it was a hard time for both of us.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Why don’t we go for a walk along the beach?”

  “I’d like that.” It was a perfect day with warm sunshine and a light breeze. They took off their shoes, and walked barefoot in the sand.

  “It’s been a most unusual week,” Josh said. They walked side by side, but as of yet had not touched, except for when his hand accidentally brushed against hers, sending an electric tingle down her spine. Ellie agreed the week had been most unusual.

  “When Lillian called and told me you desired to see me again, well, I could hardly believe it. I need to be up front with you, Ellie.” He stopped to face her and the world slowed. “Even though I delight in renewing our friendship, I couldn’t bear to go on as such, and maybe this is too forward, but if you are not interested in anything more than just making amends for past injuries, please let me know now.”

  “I never stopped loving you.”

  “Nor I, you.”

  “Joshua.” She could dare to say it now. “I would like in time to once again be more than just your friend.”

  His face broke into a large grin. “Well that suits me just fine. We needn’t rush things this time. Let’s go nice and slow and enjoy each moment every step of the way.”

  Although, he did take her hand when he said it, and after walking her to her car, he took his time kissing her goodbye.

  50

  Eden

  SOPHIE clung to Cade like a scab on skin, and Eden knew it would bleed when she peeled her away.

  “Daddy, please don’t leave again!”

  “I’m sorry, Pumpkin,” Cade said with a tired voice, “but I have to go back to work.”

  Sophie cried. Eden swallowed hard, folding her arms in front of her. Rain drove angrily against the window.

  “You can come visit me, Sophie,” Cade said. “Maybe for the whole summer before you start kindergarten. Would you like that?”

  Sophie nodded her head. Eden grew more nauseated.

  She wanted to say, Don’t go. She wanted to throw her arms around him and admit to him how desperately wrong she was. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but her lips refused to move. He’d made it clear that he didn’t feel the same. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be leaving, right? Her entire being was as heavy as death.

  Cade touched the doorknob. The phone rang. He waited. Eden answered on the third ring. When she returned she was pale.

  “What’s wrong?” Cade asked.

  “That was the hospital. Mom went into cardiac arrest.” She stumbled backward.

  Cade rushed forward. “Eden?”

  Tears welled up behind her eyes as she stared back at him. “She’s gone.”

  Cade pulled her into his arms. It had been forever since they’d embraced, and she soaked in the comfort of his strength, breathed in his scent. This was the moment she had prayed for and yet her physical response towards him was cold and detached. How dare she joy now that her mother was dead? The news induced racing quivers of shock. Her knees weakened, and she left Cade’s arms for the security of her chair.

  He let her go. He let her go. When she looked up for him, he was gone.

  Cade, please don’t leave me now. I need you. I just can’t tell you. Please understand me.

  She was alone.

  “Mommy, Mommy, what’s wrong? What’s wrong with Grandma? Why are you crying?” Sophie pulled nervously at Eden’s shirt, her own sweet face contorting with a sadness she didn’t understand. Eden lifted her onto her lap, silently chastising herself for missing the needs of her daughter.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s just that Mommy’s sad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Grandma… um...”

  “She died?”

  “Yes, dear. She died today.”

  “Does that mean she’s in heaven now? Like Daddy said?”

  Eden nodded and rocked her gently. “Yes, Sophie. Daddy’s right. She’s in heaven now.”

  “I brought you a glass of water.”

  Eden startled at his voice. “Cade? I thought you had left!”

  “I would never leave you at a time like this.” His eyes were kind, yet they shimmered with pain. He felt the loss of her mother, too. And, she feared, he misunderstood her lack of affection during their short embrace. He stood at the window with his back towards her.

  “Cade?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I…”

  He turned to face her.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Sure, Eden. So what do we do now?”

  Good question. “Call the funeral home, I guess. I should know, I suppose, but I didn’t take care of any of the arrangements at Dad’s funeral. I assumed Mom had, but now I think it was probably all Aunt Lillian’s work. You know, I never even thanked her.”

  “They say it’s never too late.” He paused and slanted his head. “But that’s not true, is it Eden?”

  “No, it’s not.” Eden knew his words carried more meaning than the obvious. She wanted to say more but her head grew heavy and she let her eyes close.

  She awoke a short time later. For a moment she was disoriented. Then the weight of her grief settled on her again. She forced herself to get up, to call someone, but she didn’t know who. She could hear Cade’s voice. He was completing a call, and he hung up the phone as she entered the kitchen.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “The funeral home. They’ll arrange to have the body delivered to them. We have to go choose a casket. The funeral is in three days.”

  Eden pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. The body. It sounded so scientific. So spiritless.

  “Three days? That’s all?”

  Cade nodded. “Who do we need to call?”

  “I don’t know. Mom’s friends were all tied to Dad. I don’t think she kept in touch with many, except Aunt Lillian. She was Mom’s best friend. I thought it would have been a kind of poetic justice for them to be together again at the end of their lives in the same nursing home. I’m ashamed now, that I haven’t visited Aunt Lillian more often.” She sighed. “I’ve only gone twice. It was so much work getting Mom ready, and Aunt Lillian only stares, but I owe her so much. I wish she was well enough to come.”

  “Me too,” Cade said. “I’ll call the papers. Maybe her friends will read about her passing in the obituaries.”

  “Good idea,” Eden said. “We’ll keep it small.” Eden cringed at the thought of only Cade, Sophie and herself present at her mother’s memorial. She deserved more than that.

  They floated through the next three days, the hours passing with a sci-fi quality, both fast and slow.

  Sometimes they were a family again: sharing order-out Chinese food, sitting comfortably around the evening fire, laughing. Other times they were strangers still: when Cade would make muffled phone calls, or whisper a quiet goodnight, closing his bedroom door behind him.

  The day of the funeral arrived. Eden was pleased with the company who came to share their last respects. Alice the home care worker and Joan from the Alzheimer’s Society showed. Even Harry, Lillian’s apartment manager made an appearance. “Any friend of Lillian’s is a friend of mine,” he blurted out at the door.

  Eleanor’s neighbours, including Mrs. Friesen, were present, as was Tina Holsom and the pastor of the church Eden’s parents had attended, along with a number from the congregation. Then came Dr. Chan, and Marti and Arnold.

  Mr. Kipper Senior and his wife showed up unexpectedly, and Eden found it hard to extend a welcome. Cade, sensing her reluctance, stepped in on her behalf even though he didn’t know about her episode with Justin.

  A polite din of voices gathered around the table of refreshments provided by a local caterer. It hadn’t occ
urred to Eden to do this. Cade had hired them.

  The doorbell rang once again. Eden couldn’t imagine who else knew her mother. Her surprise this time was beyond restraining.

  “Hillary?”

  She was exquisite. Long, dark, skilfully curled locks draped down the back of a black, rayon blouse. She wore ruby red lipstick on full lips and precise makeup highlighting high cheekbones. Eden had never seen Hillary look this good before, and by the expression on Cade’s face, neither had he. For a brief moment, Eden felt like digging her eyes out.

  “Eden! I came straight away when I heard.” They exchanged obligatory hugs, and then Hillary engaged in an overly long embrace with Cade. Eden’s pulse surged hotly as she watched her throw herself at her husband. How had she heard? Eden definitely hadn’t told her. It must have been Cade. Had they been keeping in touch all the while he was here? Of course, they would’ve. She was stupid to assume otherwise, and now felt grateful that she hadn’t confessed to Cade. She would’ve made an even bigger fool of herself.

  But this was the worst tact. How could he invite her here now?

  “Eden!” Eden felt the brush of Cade’s hand reaching for her arm. She pinched her lips together with suppressed fury, stabbed him with a steely glare and spun around to lose herself in the sympathetic company of the remaining guests. This hurt almost as much as her mother’s death.

  Hillary chased after her, the spiky black heels of her shiny new shoes clicking across the kitchen floor. “Eden, it’s been so long. You look great!” She was a liar, too.

  “What are you doing here?” Eden lowered her voice, not wanting to make a scene.

  “I came to express my deepest sympathy.”

  “A card would have sufficed.”

  “I thought you would be glad to see me again. It’s been a long time.”

  Eden let out a long breath of mixed emotion. Hillary’s friendship had meant a lot to her at one time. But now, with this…”

  “C’mon, Eden. We’re friends.”

  “Are we?”

  “I know this is delicate. I mean, I can imagine how you must feel, seeing me with Cade, but it’s not like I stole him from you. You gave him away.”

  She had red lipstick on her teeth.

  “Cade can choose for himself, Hillary.”

  “He’s already chosen.”

  “Has he?”

  “I knew it! I knew you wanted him back!”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  Eden caught glimpses of Cade watching them through the shuffling bodies in the small crowd. Strong arms across his chest, his eyes were narrowed with questioning. Who was he looking at? Hillary? Or her?

  “It’s just one of these twisted mind games you play with men, isn’t it?”

  Eden huffed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Be honest now. If I was with a stranger, make that an overweight, plain face with a nice personality stranger, you wouldn’t be giving Cade a second look.”

  “Oh, get real.”

  “It’s true. You don’t actually want him. You just don’t want me to have him. You’re jealous, or maybe it’s because your little fling didn’t pan out.”

  Hillary flicked her head swinging wisps of loose dark hair over her shoulder. She dug into her purse for a cigarette. “Well, you can forget it. I’m not going to lie down and play dead just to suit your latest whim.”

  “You can’t smoke in the house.”

  “Fine. I’ll go outside.” She fidgeted, tugging on her little skirt, which was so short, Eden thought, it was almost a belt.

  “Just let me say this, Eden. I only have one day here and I came to tell you that you had your chance. He’s mine now, so don’t think you can use these unfortunate circumstances to arouse his compassion for you.”

  Hillary headed for the back door, catching Cade’s eyes as she left. Was he going to follow her? Eden wasn’t about to hang around to find out. She excused herself to nudge past her guests and escaped up the stairs to the washroom. She cleared away any traces of running mascara, hoping somehow to regain her composure and self-respect with a fresh application of makeup. Her emotions raged furiously. She felt irrationally betrayed. Worst of all, much of what Hillary said was true. Or it used to be true. The last nine months had changed her. She was a better person now because of her time with her mother. But change had come too late, it seemed, to save her marriage.

  She had to go back downstairs. She had to face them, and her, and him. She prayed for strength.

  He was waiting for her in the hallway. He cornered her.

  “Why are you so mad?”

  “Who’s mad?” She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.

  “It’s a little late to start lying to me now. I know you too well.”

  “Why did you invite her here?”

  “I didn’t, but even if I did, so what? She’s your friend, isn’t she?”

  “Was.” Eden moved to pass under his arms, but he shifted his stance, blocking her.

  “Let me go.”

  “No.”

  “Cade, let me go. I have guests.”

  “It’s not what you think, with Hillary.”

  “It’s not? She seems to think it is.”

  “Oh, there you two are!” Alice stood at the bottom of the steps, waving for them to come down. “It’s time to leave for the church. It’s not good to be late for these things.”

  Cade dropped his arms, letting Eden slip by. Her guests were donning jackets and sweaters, putting on shoes. Eden rushed down and towards the back porch. Marti, spotting her, followed.

  “Eden, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Everything’s happening at once.”

  “I see your friend Hillary came.”

  “She’s not my friend.”

  “Don’t be too hard on her.”

  “Oh, Marti. You’re kind, to a fault.” Eden threaded her arm through hers. “Can Sophie and I go with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get her and meet you outside.”

  51

  Eden

  Eleanor was laid to rest beside her husband Joshua, not far from her mother Louise and her father John and a little baby called Dana.

  It was the day after the funeral and Eden needed to come once more, alone this time. The small bouquet she’d brought as a token of her love for her mother lay stoically against her gravestone. She took a deep breath and thanked God for the time she’d had with her mom and for the life that still went on. Even in this place where the dead meet, signs of life and hope could not be shut out. Bluejays and finches fluttered about from branch to branch, and little furry creatures scurried around in the shadows.

  She removed a yellowing envelope from her purse. She’d found it when she cleaned out her father’s desk. His familiar scribble made her heart squeeze and she read the pages once again.

  Dear Eden,

  I’m writing this because I thought it would be the easiest way for both of us. What I have to say is difficult, so I want to say it all at once.

  First of all, Eden, Mom is ill. I realise now that I have been denying it for some time. She always was a bit absent-minded you know, her thoughts often far away, so when this pattern increased I wasn’t really concerned. But then over time she became quite forgetful. I assumed that it was due to stress or age and just laughed it off. More or less she was still my sweet Ellie.

  The day she got lost walking around in the neighbourhood, I finally took her to see Dr. Seymore. He thinks she has Alzheimer disease. I just didn’t want to believe it and even as I write this, I still don’t want to believe it. I can’t bear to think of losing my Ellie in such a manner, knowing that one day she will no longer remember me.

  She shows no sign of improvement, but only worsens. Lillian has been an angel, helping me out. I’m afraid that Dr. Seymore may be right.

  On another matter, Eden, my dear daughter, it grieves me so to have this distance between us. I know that you find fault with your
mother and me, and perhaps we have failed you in some way, but in light of what is occurring I am beseeching you to work with us to build bridges. It may be too late for you to reconcile with your mother due to her mind going, but it’s not too late for us. I’m so sorry, Eden.

  Eden wiped away a stray tear. “I’m sorry, too, Dad.”

  There’s something else I must tell you that I’m sure you will find very unsettling. You had a sister. She died when she was four years old. I don’t think your mother ever really got over her death. Let me explain. Your mother and I have been married twice, to each other, that is. The first time we were much too young, straight out of school. We were very much in love and I confess that in our passions for one another, we conceived a child out of wedlock. We were married quickly and had a very difficult time of it. When Dana died, the drive to fight for our marriage died, too. We were divorced soon after.

  Then many years later when neither of us had remarried, your Aunt Lillian arranged for us to meet again. By then the sting of Dana’s death had eased and we realised, thankfully, that we were still very much in love with each other.

  That part of the letter made her smile.“Oh, Auntie. Such a matchmaker.”

  We were married again and two years later you were born. I never intended to keep this part of our lives a secret from you, but your mother kept insisting that it wasn’t the right time yet. Maybe she was afraid that by bringing up the memories of Dana she might lose you, or maybe it was a result of this illness slowly coming on, I don’t know. Time kept ticking by and the older you got the harder it was to bring it up. I know it was wrong not to tell you.

  I hope that by knowing all of this now, you will at least understand why we were perhaps a bit overprotective of you. Maybe it will help you to forgive us.

  It was unsigned. Eden couldn’t guess why her father hadn’t sent it. Maybe he died before he had a chance. She folded the pages and put them back in the envelope and into her purse.