Return to Silver Bay

by Lara Van Hulzen

  “That’s easier said than done, Josh. And from her point of view, it probably seems impossible right now. The wounds Patrick left behind may take years to heal.”

  Josh looked up at her, anguish flooding his soul.

  “You’re going to have to be patient, son. You know better than anyone what Patrick was like. Maggie’s view of the world is going to be different from yours. Her home life was different.”

  “I know. I’ve always been so grateful for how loved and accepted I’ve felt here. That was part of what always got me so angry with Patrick. Maggie and her mom didn’t deserve how he treated them. Why did I get such a loving family and Maggie didn’t?”

  “We all have our own unique stories, Josh. By the grace of God we’ve been able to be the family we are and thankfully Caroline doted on Maggie and protected her. It’s hard to picture, but things could have been much worse for them.”

  “That is hard to picture.” He shook his head. “She said I deserve better. Is that really how she feels?”

  “There’s a reason you’re in her life. I’ve always prayed for your future spouse, and that may or may not be Maggie. I like her and I pray for her too. Just be patient. She has a lot of wounds to heal.”

  “How’d you get so smart, Mom?”

  She laughed. “Smart is about the last thing I feel, son. With you kids around, I feel as if I’ve lost more and more brain cells as time goes on.”

  “We weren’t that bad, were we?”

  “Heavens, no. But you were all busy in your own ways. Especially Jack.” She shook her head. “Every gray hair on my head I have to pay to cover is from that boy, God love him.”

  Josh laughed.

  They sat in comfortable silence for a little while. Josh picked up his mother’s hand and kissed it gently.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, son. You’re a wonderful man and I’m so grateful for who you’ve become. I can’t wait to see all that will happen in your life. I guarantee it will be quite a ride.”

  Josh’s dad came into the kitchen and headed to the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water and looked at Josh and his mom.

  “So, what’d I miss?”

  Talia winked at Josh and said, “Oh, nothing. Just some mom and son time.”

  “Well, now it’s father and son time. Come on, Josh, you can help me work on the car and tell me everything you just told your mother.” He walked over to Josh’s mom, kissed her, and headed out of the kitchen.

  “I’m on my way, Dad.” Josh said, laughing.

  His mom sat with her chin in her hand, grinning from ear and ear, and glowing. “I sure do love that man.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome. Any time.”

  “No, I mean, thanks for loving him the way you do.” He stood up and kissed her on the cheek. “And thanks for listening too.”

  “My ears and my heart are always ready. Now go help your father and talk to him or he’ll be bugging me to tell him everything later.”

  “Okay, I’m going. But I do wonder when he’ll realize I’m an architect and know nothing about cars.”

  Her joy-filled laughter floated through the hallway as he left the kitchen and walked toward the garage.

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Maggie put on comfy pajama pants and a sweatshirt and curled up in a chair in front of the fireplace. Having just finished a frozen turkey dinner for Thanksgiving, she sat with a book in her lap, but instead of reading, she thought of her mother.

  How did her mother survive being caged with her dad for so long? She understood her mother’s faith, but she was always fascinated that her mother never seemed truly unhappy. She remembered only a handful of times that she had found her crying alone in her bedroom.

  “Mama, what’s the matter?” She was six and had entered her parents’ bedroom cautiously.

  Her mother wiped her tears away quickly when she saw Maggie. She said with a forced smile, “Oh, sweetie. Mama’s fine. I’m just a little sad, that’s all.”

  She scooped Maggie up into her arms and hugged her firmly and lovingly.

  “You are my little brown-eyed beauty, you know that? Don’t ever forget it,” she said.

  “I won’t, Mama.”

  She began dancing around with Maggie and singing Crystal Gayle’s song, “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.”

  A knock at the front door pulled her from her thoughts.

  She made her way downstairs and opened the front door to find Kate on the porch.

  “Are you okay?”

  Was she okay? Sheesh. She didn’t know anymore. Her life had so many twists and turns she was unsure which way was up or down. A nod towards Kate was all she managed.

  “I thought you might like to share some pumpkin pie with me,” Kate said.

  “That sounds great.” Maggie moved aside to let Kate in the door.

  After dishing up pie and settling themselves in the living room, Kate looked over her dollop of whipped cream on her pie. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin or what to say.”

  “Begin wherever you want to. We’ve got all night.”

  “I miss my mom. And it’s weird to not have family anymore. My mom was an only child and my dad never spoke to his family.”

  Kate nodded “I can only imagine.”

  “Anyway, trying to adequately depict someone like my father to someone who never met him might be impossible, and I’m even supposed to be good with words.”

  “You won’t know until you try,” Kate said.

  Maggie smiled.

  “It’s just that Dad was… what was he? He was angry and mean and bitter. He yelled ninety percent of the time, and it was usually for my mother or me to go get him something. He sat in a lounge chair all day long and watched television. He worked when he was younger as an engineer, but then was laid off and never seemed to be able to get the motivation to do anything again. As he got older he lost some of his memory and couldn’t, or wouldn’t, try to come back. He began drinking too, which the doctors say added to the dementia. I have a few pleasant memories of him before he became permanently attached to his chair, though, so I guess that’s good.”

  “What about your mother? What was she like?”

  “My mother was amazing. She was beautiful and loving and kind. She basically was everything he wasn’t, which I guess is why I walked away without more mental instability than what you see in front of you. She was the one who encouraged me to be a writer. She always said that God had given me a gift. She passed away not too long ago. My dad died in his sleep. His doctor found him when he came to check on him. And now here I am, eating pie and spilling my guts to you, which I’m sure is boring you to tears by now.”

  “Does your dad have anything to do with why you push Josh away?”

  Maggie was caught off guard by Kate’s question. She thought for a moment while Kate waited patiently.

  “Am I that easy to figure out?”

  “Pretty much. It’s not hard to see that you’ve become accustomed to keeping people at a distance, protecting yourself. But your dad is gone now, and I don’t think people hang onto all the junk you think they do. If Josh really cares about you, which he seems to, he wouldn’t let your past or your dad get between you.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “No, you really don’t get it.”

  “Then explain it to me. From what you tell me, your dad was a jerk. Okay. He’s gone now and you have a life, so how are you going to live it?”

  “You sound like Hannah,” Maggie said, chuckling weakly.

  “Well, I figured her to be a smart woman,” Kate returned with a smile.

  “Let’s just say that Josh had a few run-ins with Dad.”

  “Josh is obviously not bothered by it anymore, and he seems to want to move past them. Why don’t you? What are you so afraid of?”

  “I’m not exac
tly sure,” Maggie said. “As much as my mother encouraged me and taught me my values, hearing my father tell me how insignificant I was every day sank in.”

  “You just told me how wonderful your mother was and how much she believed in you and inspired you. Why don’t you start hearing her voice for a change? Or even your friends like Hannah, or me…or Josh?”

  Maybe Kate was right. It was time to move on. She would always miss her mom. Always. And now her dad was gone. Could she really stop hearing his voice in her head? Start believing something else about herself? In that moment, a brick from the wall she’d built around her heart crumbled and fell.

  “Dad hit him,” she said.

  “What?” Kate said, sitting up straighter in her chair.

  “Dad hit him.”

  “Hit who? Josh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was senior prom. My dad barged in and began yelling and screaming about how he wouldn’t let his daughter be with some loud-mouthed jock who only wanted one thing from her. Then he called me a whore in front of the entire school. Josh stepped in and tried to calm him down, and that’s when Dad hit him. Josh is a big guy, but so was my dad and Josh wasn’t expecting it, so he hit the floor hard. I panicked and ran for the door and never looked back. Josh kept trying to call me for weeks afterward and I just avoided him. Then we graduated and went away to college, so that was it. We haven’t talked about it since. That wasn’t all either, that was just the last straw. I loved Josh. I basically had to sneak out of the house to see him, and when my dad found out my mother was helping me do so, he didn’t go easy on her.”

  Maggie looked at Kate. She was staring at her, a look of sorrow on her face.

  Maggie continued. “It’s so hard to explain, Kate. My father never hit me or my mother, but his words could be as harsh as if he had. He could ignore us for days at a time.”

  Each word that flowed from her mouth released a small piece of the wall she’d built up for so long. Why hadn’t she done this before? Just talked about her dad. Let it all go.

  “I found out later that a friend from school called the house asking if Josh and I were going to her party after the prom and my dad overhead my mom answering. They fought and he took off for the school.”

  Kate moved to the arm of Maggie’s chair and hugged her. Maggie leaned into her friend and sighed.

  *

  Later that night, Maggie lay in her bed staring at the ceiling, the large beams criss-crossing above her head and the night of her senior prom clearly in her thoughts. Up until the confrontation with her father, the night had been perfect.

  Her mother had sewn her dress. She giggled at the thought of how much the style dated the event, but she’d loved that dress. It was strapless with a long skirt made of tulle. Her shoes were dyed red to match. Her mom had to distract her dad while Maggie got ready but by then, the TV had become his focus in life, so it wasn’t difficult. Maggie snuck out and met Josh at his house. He had looked so handsome in his tuxedo and his mom took pictures of them before going out to dinner.

  Maggie remembered how the balloons all along the gym floor made her feel like she was floating on a cloud as she walked. But just as she and Josh began to dance, her dad burst in and ruined everything.

  The best night of her life became the worst. She sighed heavily and rolled over. Could she start listening to her mother’s voice instead of her father’s? She’d heard him in her head for so long, she didn’t know any other way.

  But Patrick was gone now. Even his presence Maggie feared would linger in the house, didn’t. Her mother was the one whose face came to mind as Maggie moved through each day. Maybe there was truth to the idea that words get soaked into the walls of a home, the attitude of those within living inside the walls. For so long, she thought it was her father who overpowered the house. But maybe Caroline was the one the house was truly listening to. Perhaps it was time for Maggie to do the same.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  The smell of coffee, leather, wood, and paper wafted into Maggie’s nose, sending her senses to another dimension. Bookstores were her sanctuary.

  As always, Mrs. Kendall, the owner of Well Read, sat on her stool behind the counter to the left of the door.

  “Hi, Maggie.” She waved her over to the desk. “How are you, dear?”

  Mrs. Kendall’s bouffant hairdo sat about a foot above her head. Her reading glasses were connected to a dainty chain around her neck, but she was constantly sticking them smack dab in the middle of her hair, like a shelf. Her heavy makeup and brightly colored clothes matched. She used to be a librarian but didn’t enjoy the “old fuddy-duddy image they have,” as she said.

  “I’m doing…fine,” Maggie answered.

  “That’s good, honey. It’s wonderful to see you in here again. I’m glad to hear you’re sticking with your writing. Your mama would be so proud.”

  They were quiet for a moment, the mention of Caroline hanging in the air. She used to bring Maggie in here all the time. Maggie would wander through the kids’ section while her mother and Mrs. Kendall talked.

  Mrs. Kendall shooed Maggie away lovingly. “You take all day if you want and enjoy yourself. Get going. So many books, so little time, my dear.”

  Maggie smiled at her and turned around. The entire place was made of wood. The floors, the bookshelves. Large tables adorned the downstairs portion of the store. A wooden staircase ran up the center to a balcony overlooking the entire downstairs. Bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling along every single wall and sat in perfect lines along the upstairs. There was a small area in the corner that had fresh brewed coffee and hot tea. The Kendalls didn’t want to put in a full coffee bar because they didn’t want to take away customers from Jamie’s Java.

  Maggie wandered the shelves, preferring the used books section to the new. She walked through the aisles, inhaling the scent of time and history, running her fingers over a few volumes, and wondering whose hands over time had done the same. Finding a used edition of A Moveable Feast, she poured herself some coffee and went to her favorite spot in one of the large, oversized chairs that were scattered around the store.

  She’d brought her laptop with her. Even though she was unsure of where to start specifically on finding information about adoption, she was a journalist and no stranger to research. Telling Kate about her dad had been like a weight lifted off her back. Maybe telling Josh about the letters would be a good idea too? She shook her head. No. She wanted some more information first.

  After an hour or so of getting nowhere, but carrying the happy weight of a bag full of new books – well, used, but new to her – Maggie stood on the sidewalk, her head buried in her purse in search of her keys. Not paying attention, she ran smack dab into Lady Guinevere.

  “Hello there, dear,” Lady Guinevere said, her voice pleasant. “I didn’t see you there. I beg your pardon.”

  Maggie stared, open-mouthed but mute, surprised by how sweet Lady Guinevere sounded. And that she had actually spoken.

  “Are you all right, dear? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Thankfully, Maggie found her voice.

  “Oh, I-I’m fine.” Her hand was still deep down in her purse on its quest for her keys. “I’m sorry too. I wasn’t looking where I was going and…well, I apologize.”

  Lady Guinevere smiled. “Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?”

  Maggie went from being surprised to downright stunned. Thinking Lady Guinevere meant at the coffee shop, she agreed.

  “You know where my house is, right dear?”

  Maggie nodded. Everyone knew where Lady G’s house was, if only to avoid it.

  “Good. I will see you there in just a bit.” She shuffled off to her car, got in, and drove away.

  Maggie had absolutely no idea how long she stood there on the sidewalk. Her brain was trying to catch up with what had just happened and it was a bit sluggish. Coming to her senses, she found her keys and made it t
o her car. She sat there, gripping the steering wheel and trying to get her bearings.

  Did I really just agree to drive out to Lady Guinevere’s house and have tea? I must have been out of my mind.

  She pulled up to Lady Guinevere’s and was hit with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Maggie may have lived alone, but she didn’t live alone in a place that looked like it could fall over at any moment. The paint was chipping so badly it was taking pieces of wood with it. The grass was overgrown and patchy with various wildflowers in a rainbow of colors popping up here and there. Lady Guinevere’s car was parked off to the side of the house and a shiver ran down Maggie’s spine at the thought of how many rumors ran around town about what just might be in the back, hidden under the blankets. Before she could put the car in reverse and peel out, which every instinct in her said to do, she saw Guinevere open the front door, smiling and waving her in. Reluctantly, she opened her car door and got out.

  “Hello there, dear. You didn’t have any trouble finding the place, did you?”

  “No, I… I didn’t.” Stop stuttering, Mitchell.

  “Well, please come in. I’ve just put water on the stove for tea. Or would you prefer coffee? I know kids your age are so into that now. That coffee shop on the corner is always busy.”

  “Tea would be fine, thank you.”

  Maggie entered the front door and it was as if she’d walked through the wardrobe doors in The Chronicles of Narnia. Nothing was what it seemed from the outside view. The house was dripping with charm, immaculately clean, and surprisingly light. There were fresh wildflowers in vases on the small kitchen table and the coffee table. It was not a large space, but it was welcoming and comfortable.

  Guinevere noticed her reaction and seemed amused.

  “I know it’s a shock. Everyone assumes the inside will be as awful as the outside but, well, I’m not physically able to keep the house up on the outside. I do what I can on the inside. Please have a seat.”

  Guinevere headed to the kitchen just as a chirp began to erupt from the teakettle. Maggie slowly made her way to a high-backed plaid chair with a green and orange homemade afghan thrown over the back.