by Mary Manners
“A salad sounds good.”
****
Shane knew he had to tell her, but how? Shadows bruised her eyes and her cheeks were ashen except for a smattering of sun-induced freckles that sprinkled the bridge of her nose. He knew she hadn’t slept beyond the cat nap during the movie last night.
“How’s the spinach salad?” He watched her pick at plump strawberries nestled atop dark leaves.
“Good.” She pushed chopped walnuts around the plate with the tines of her fork. “I’m just not very hungry.”
“More iced tea?”
“That sounds good.” She eyed the glass she’d drained. “Yes, please.”
He summoned the waiter. “Bring the check, as well.”
“I’m sorry.” Jade dabbed her lips with a crisp linen napkin. “I’m not very good company today.”
“Well, I did expect you to hop up on the table and dance the jig while singing a rousing rendition of ‘If You’re Happy and You Know It.’”
She laughed. “You know I can’t sing.”
“I beg to differ. I heard you the night you read I’ll Love You Forever to Susie.”
“Oh, yeah.” She ducked her head as a splotch of blush colored her cheeks. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
“In a manner of speaking.” He cleared his throat. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d like to help with the Fall Retreat early next month. I’ll be taking the youth to Big South Fork. We’ll camp out for the weekend. The kids like to hike and ride mountain bikes along the trails.”
“Oh.” Her green eyes flashed. “I don’t know.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson have already agreed to chaperone, if you’re worried about us being alone. I’d never put you in that position.”
“I know.” Her voice faltered. “I’d really like to, but...”
“What? You have an aversion to sleeping in a tent?”
“Well...I’ve never slept in one, so I wouldn’t know. It’s not that. It’s just, well, I might not be here. I’m thinking of moving back to Chicago. I miss teaching, and now...”
He was confused. “There must be plenty of teaching jobs available here in the Knoxville area. Have you applied?”
“No.”
“There’s still plenty of time.”
“I know.” She kneaded the napkin between her hands. “You see, I liked the school where I was. I spoke with the administration, and the door is still open to me for next year, if I’d like. I have to let them know my plans in the next few weeks.”
“I see.” The reality caused his stomach to twist into a tight knot. He realized just how much losing her would hurt. “I’d miss you. Susie, too.”
She looked away and murmured softly, “You shouldn’t.”
“Have you made up your mind for sure?”
“No. I still have some loose ends to tie up here. I need to go through Mama’s things. She left a list where she wants most of it to go. She named a few women who attend Celebrate Recovery at a church in North Knoxville. Do you know anything about that?”
“I know a lot about it. In fact, my friend Bryce is scheduled to speak there next week.”
“Bryce? I don’t think I’ve met him.”
“You haven’t. He lives in Nashville. It’s a long story.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“Would you like to go—I mean, to Celebrate Recovery to hear him speak?”
“I guess I should. Mama was adamant about getting her things where she wanted them to go. The list she left was pretty detailed.”
Tell her.
The voice jumped into his head. He forced the thought away. Now was not the time, not with Jade thinking of leaving. He didn’t want her to go, and knowledge of her mother’s indiscretion and her father’s subsequent suicide would only force her further away.
Tell her.
Shane shook his head to clear it. He reached for Jade’s hand. “Would you like me to help you go through your mom’s things?”
“Claire was going to, but she has to work late tonight and I really don’t want to put it off any longer, in case I do leave. So, could you? I don’t think I can manage alone.”
“Of course I’ll help. Just let me make a quick phone call while you finish your salad, and we’ll be on our way.”
Chair legs scraped the tile floor when he pushed back from the table. He went to the hallway and punched in a familiar number. His call to Bryce was brief.
“What’s your ETA?”
Bryce’s voice came over the line. “I’m east of Chattanooga. I’ll be into Knoxville soon.”
“Can you swing by and get Susie from the daycare on your way in?” He quickly apprised his friend of the situation. “There’s a key under the back door mat at the house. You can let yourself in. Be careful of Maggie. She’ll try to tackle you with affection when she sees you. You know how excited she gets.”
“Sure. No worries, my friend. Consider it done.”
****
Jade picked juicy strawberries from her salad, drained the glass of sweet iced tea, and then stepped outside onto a deck overlooking the river while she waited for Shane to return. Sunshine warmed her face, and she tilted her chin, drinking the warmth in like an elixir.
She fingered the rose-embellished locket that hung from her neck. Her mother had left it to her along with a note. Mama seemed to have a fondness for notes. Even in the darkest times during high school Jade would find scribbled scraps of paper on the dresser in her bedroom or taped to the dirty bathroom mirror. Sometimes they even adorned the pillow on the battered twin bed she slept in at the far end of the trailer. She was only beginning to understand that notes and letters had been Mama’s way of coping in the madness, of reaching out to her. Yet she had slammed the door over and over again. She’d been a frightened child, and the fear grew into rebellion. Maybe if she’d stayed around for awhile after graduation, they’d have worked through the chaos.
She’d never know
The locket was smooth between her fingers, fine silver. A gift from her father to Mama on the day Jade was born. Through the years it had been Mama’s most treasured possession. Now it belonged to her. The locket was empty, but Mama had written perhaps Jade would fill it with photos of her own children one day. The thought ripped at Jade’s heart. She enjoyed teaching kindergarten and had a special fondness—a love even, she realized with a pang—for Susie. But it didn’t look like she’d ever have children of her own.
She thought of the few dates she’d allowed herself to be enticed into while living in Chicago. Each was a mere passing of time. She never felt anything special for the men who tried to woo her with their fancy cars and high-dollar dinners. There was no tugging at her heartstrings like she felt now with Shane, here on the river walk, at the modest Benicio’s Café. Her insides melted like warm wax when his hand brushed hers. His smile made her tingle. She’d grown to love the familiar scent of his favorite spearmint gum. And his faith coupled with soothing, heartfelt words was a lighthouse amid the darkness.
She should go, before she fell in too deep. Shane had enough on his plate, and she carried so much baggage. It was a recipe for disaster.
But now Mama was gone. Nothing would change that.
Her reason for remaining here was lost. She’d return to Chicago, to the safety of all that had become familiar over the years. It was the most reasonable decision. She’d been content there in her job. It was the lonely apartment, the lack of close friends that had been difficult. Claire was here, and Shane, and everyone at the church, and Carly and Mrs. D’atello. But so were the painful loss of her mother and memories of her tumultuous childhood.
She heard Shane’s footsteps on the concrete behind her as he returned from his phone call. Quickly, she swiped tears from her eyes. Thinking of leaving had brought her to tears, she realized with a start. And to top it all off, she hadn’t thought to put on even a hint of foundation or lip gloss that morning. She knew she must look like something the cat dragged in.
He came up behind her and gently smoothed the hair she’d carelessly swept up into an elastic band that morning. Peppermint clung to his breath. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”
She turned from the rail and let him draw her into his arms. Sniffling, she pressed her face against his clean cotton T-shirt. Though he soothed, the tears came harder. He thought she mourned only for the loss of her mother. But now, she wept for the loss of him and all she’d grown to love here, as well.
Mended Heart
12
Jade would always remember the way her heart tore and the world went dark as she read Mama’s carefully scripted note. She found the letter in the jewelry box Daddy had given Mama when Jade was five. Just the way Mama said before she’d died.
How could I have forgotten to look for it earlier? Mama told me it was here.
Buried under gaudy silver-plated rings and a necklace made of faux pearls, Mama had tucked the single piece of folded stationary in a yellow flowered envelope with Jade’s name printed clearly on the outside. Jade’s hands quivered as she slipped a finger under the seal and loosened it carefully.
My Dearest Jade,
Thank you for your tender, loving care these past months. You brought such joy to my life. I only hope I was able to bring a little bit to yours, as well. I know that you have been angry with me for a long time and that I am deserving of your wrath. You must have sensed my terrible indiscretions all these years. There’s something I must tell you about your father, to ease your hurting heart. His leaving had nothing to do with you. He loved you more than life, itself. It was me and my selfish disloyalty that he could not forgive. I drove him away, and I have paid dearly.
It pains me greatly to tell you this, but I must. You see, years ago I had an affair with Ken Calkin. While your father toiled to earn a living for us, I dishonored him. I have wanted to beg your forgiveness and have no good excuse for allowing the days to slip away without admitting to you my guilt.
Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Don’t allow my mistake to harden your heart to love. Look forward, my precious daughter, not back. Lean on your friends, especially Shane. My weakness has hurt him, too.
Memorize these words. They helped me, and I hope they will help you, too.
—Be you kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God has forgiven you.—Ephesians 4:32
I love you, my sweet daughter.
Mama
Jade clutched the note in her hands and the paper crumpled. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Air rushed out in a hush, and tears splotched blue ink into a watery mess.
“Jade?” Shane came to her, eyes wide with concern. “What is it? What did you find?”
Unable to speak, she pressed the note into his hand. Shane smoothed her tears from the paper and read the blurred words.
“Oh, Jade.”
She hiccupped and swiped hot tears from her cheeks. “Did you know?”
His eyes told her everything. She slammed the lid on the jewelry box and scrambled to her feet. “How could you keep this from me?”
“I just found out. You have to believe me, Jade.”
“When?”
“A week ago. The day before my birthday.”
“The day before she died.” She gave him an accusing look. “You should have told me. I could have talked to her. Now I’ll never...” She spun and rushed into the bathroom. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Jade, wait.” When he came toward her, she slammed the door. The sound reverberated through the room. Before he could turn the doorknob, she flipped the lock. She heard his voice through the paneled wood. “Don’t. Let’s talk about this.”
“Talk? Now you want to talk?” She banged the door with a fist. “I think you should go.”
“No. Come out.” His voice, muffled through the door, was pleading.
“Go.” Sobs racked her. She could hardly draw a breath, and she thought her heart might shatter into a million tiny pieces. “Please.”
****
Shane held his tongue as he paced the floor. He’d had a serious lapse in judgment. How many times had his conscience prodded him to share what he knew? Yet he’d foolishly kept it all to himself. Sure, hindsight was twenty-twenty and he could make excuses ’til the cows came home. There just hadn’t seemed to be a good time. He was concerned for Jade’s fragile state. He worried over her reaction. No matter, he’d harbored a secret, and now his actions caused Jade unbearable heartache.
His heart hurt, too. All these years he’d wondered why his mother seemed so bitter, so callous and driven. Never satisfied, every dollar she and his father earned went into making more. Nothing he did made the cut. And Reid...she’d died trying. But now he knew the whole story. His mother was consumed by pain and guilt. It attacked her like a raging virus. Such heartache and lost opportunity to heal and love. So many days bound by resentment.
He paused to lean against the wall. Inside the bathroom, water ran in the sink. He heard the rattle of bottles as Jade fumbled through the cabinet for tissue, or perhaps a Tylenol to ease the pounding he guessed threatened to shatter her skull. He opened his mouth to call once more then clenched his jaws so hard his teeth ached. Hounding her to talk now would only serve to push her farther away.
His cell phone rang, startling him. He fumbled through his pocket to answer.
“Bryce?”
“Shane, thank God you picked up. There’s been an accident.” His voice, usually smooth as melted caramel, had the texture of peanut brittle. “It’s Susie.”
“No.” His heart leapt straight to his throat. “Tell me.”
“I got her like you asked, and we were playing in the backyard before we went into the house. I must have left the gate unlatched. Maggie got out and Susie ran after her. I tried to catch her, but my legs...” Once one of the quickest linemen in the NFL, the accident Shane had caused nearly six years ago left Bryce with a limp. “She darted into the street. A car was coming...”
“Tell me,” Shane repeated.
“We’re at the hospital. They’re taking her for a CAT scan. The doc thinks she has a concussion.”
“I’m on my way.”
****
Jade heard the front door slam. She peeked through the bathroom window just in time to see Shane’s Jeep bolt from the drive. So he was mad. So was she. A sob ripped her throat and her heart broke in ways she’d never felt before.
She threw open the bathroom door to find the bedroom eerily quiet. Overstuffed black plastic garbage bags filled with her mother’s clothes and shoes were piled on the bed and ready to go to the women at Celebrate Recovery. Beside the bags were a few boxes Shane had brought from the church. He’d helped her fill them with photos and mementos she’d gathered from Mama’s small closet and bureau drawers. While she’d wept, he’d tucked and organized. And he’d listened patiently to the stories that sprang from her memory with each photo she held, though they slowed the process exponentially.
Jade forced those thoughts from her mind. Sure, he’d been gentle and patient, he’d comforted with the soothing tone of his voice. The reality was he’d deliberately kept a terrible secret from her, one she deserved to know. Now she’d never have the opportunity to reconcile her feelings with Mama.
Because Mama was gone. And the truth had come too late.
Sobbing, she strode to her own bedroom. She threw open the closet doors and found the black battered suitcase she’d used to travel from Chicago. It was the same one she’d stuffed her things into when she’d fled from here ten years ago. It was time to go home. And right now, home was anywhere but here.
She yanked open dresser drawers with such force one toppled to the ground, spilling T-shirts onto the carpet. She scooped them up and tossed them carelessly into the suitcase. Next went socks and jeans. She stuffed what she could into the suitcase and left the rest sprawled like wounded soldiers across the floor and over the bed.
Gravel crunched outside
the bedroom window as a car came up the drive. The glare of headlights filled the darkening room. Jade glanced at the clock and was shocked to see how much time had passed. She worked faster, tossing shoes, socks, a toothbrush into the case. She was leaving. Nothing Shane said or did now would change that.
The front door opened. “Jade!” Carly’s voice echoed through the house. The door slammed and Carly shuffled across the living room to call her name once more. “Where are you?”
She sat on the suitcase and forced the latches closed. “Wait there. I’m coming.”
Not one to follow orders, Carly came around the corner to stand in the bedroom doorway. Her amber eyes widened at the sight of Jade’s suitcase. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go back to Chicago.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t have time to explain right now. Let me pass.”
“You don’t have to explain.” Carly crossed her arms and stood her ground, blocking the doorway. “I get it. You’re running away.”
Jade’s breath caught. “What?”
“You heard me.” Carly’s eyes narrowed. “You had a fight with Shane and now you’re running away.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Yes, I do. You’re hurting and you want it to stop. But you told me running away doesn’t solve anything. Remember?”
“This is different.”
“Yeah, sure it is.” She turned to her grandmother, who had switched on the living room lamp and stood in a halo of light across the hallway. Her voice softened. “Have you heard anything from Shane yet?”
Mrs. D’atello shook her head. “They’re running some tests, and he’s still waiting on word from the doctor.”
“What?” Jade paused in her attempt to get by. “What doctor? What happened?”
“Susie’s at the hospital. She got hit by a car.” Carly kicked the carpet with the toe of her tennis shoe. “What do you care? You’re running away to Chicago.” She moved aside, clearing the doorway. “If you’re going to leave, then just go, why don’t you? We’ll help Shane, so don’t waste time worrying about anyone except yourself.”
