The Way to Yesterday

by Sharon Sala

  “You saved their lives, honey. You’re a real heroine, did you know that?”

  “Does the media know about me?”

  “No. At my request, Reese kept it quiet…mostly because of Hope.”

  Mary sighed. “Thank God. Could we please keep it that way?”

  “You can have anything you want,” Daniel said.

  She tried to smile and then winced from the pain in her jaw. “What I want is to turn over, but I think I’m going to need some help.”

  “Sure, honey,” Daniel said, and slid his hands beneath her shoulders. Just as he started to lift, she cried out in pain. He withdrew immediately, uncertain as to how he had hurt her.

  “Mary…darling, I’m so sorry. What did I do?”

  She grabbed his hand. “No, Danny…I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that my back and shoulders are so sore.”

  “Your back? What did he do?”

  “I had to stop him from running after the girls, so I grabbed his legs. The only way I could keep him from kicking me loose was to wrap myself around the lower half of his body. I had control of his mobility, but not his fists.”

  “He beat you?”

  The tone in Daniel’s voice was chilling. Mary knew he was struggling with a terrible rage. She tried to make light of it by teasing.

  “I stuck to him like a tick. You should have heard him screaming at me to let go.”

  “The bastard,” Daniel muttered. “Let me see.”

  He turned on the light and then opened the back of her gown. Her skin was a mass of bruises, ranging in color from faint blue to a deep, dark purple. Some of them bore deep scratches, as if he tried to claw himself free. The shock of what Mary had endured made him sick. He stroked her arm, then her face, then lowered his head until their foreheads were touching.

  “Oh sweet heaven…oh baby…I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

  “Daniel…don’t. They will heal and I still want to turn to my side.”

  Still Daniel hesitated. Mary sighed. The shock on his face was impossible to miss.

  “Please,” she begged, and then gritted her teeth when Daniel slid his hands back beneath her body and began to help her turn.

  Groaning softly from the relief, she settled into a new position.

  “Thank you, darling. That’s much better.”

  Daniel stared at her without moving.

  “How is Hope? Is she with Mike and Phyllis?”

  “Yes, and she’s fine. She doesn’t even know you were gone.”

  Mary sighed. “What’s the date today?”

  “The 2nd of October.”

  “Oh no…it’s her birthday. What’s she going to think?”

  “She doesn’t know what day it is. Mom and Dad made sure of that. We’ll celebrate her birthday when we’re all home together.”

  “That’s good.”

  There was a brief and uncomfortable moment of silence. Neither Mary or Daniel could think of a safe topic of conversation.

  “Do you need anything for pain?” Daniel finally asked.

  “No,” Mary said, and then to her horror, felt tears rolling down her face.

  For Daniel, it was the proverbial last straw. Rage spilled out of him in violent waves, making his body tremble.

  “I should have killed the son of a bitch.”

  “Just hold me,” Mary begged.

  He lowered the bed rail and crawled in beside her. Sliding his arm beneath her neck, he pillowed her head on his chest and held her while she cried. He wanted to tell her that whatever that man had done to her would never destroy what was between them. He wanted to say it—but he was afraid to bring it up and so he held her and thanked God that she was still alive.

  Several minutes passed, then several more, and Daniel was certain that Mary had fallen asleep. He figured he would catch hell from the first nurse to come in and find him in bed with her, but he didn’t really care. He closed his eyes, trying to make himself relax. One moment led to another and then another, and just when he was on the verge of going under, he heard Mary’s voice. The words were slurred, as if she were talking in her sleep, but they were a gift, just the same.

  “He didn’t rape me.”

  Ah God…thank you for sparing her that. “It’s okay, baby…go back to sleep,” he said softly.

  Mary sighed. Her breathing slowed and he felt her muscles relax.

  “Daniel…”

  “What, honey?”

  “The baby is okay.”

  He smiled to himself. She was so sleepy she was barely making sense.

  “Yes, honey…Hope is okay.”

  She sighed. “Not Hope. The baby.” Then she reached for his hand and laid it on her stomach. “Our baby,” she mumbled, and fell back to sleep.

  Daniel went from shock to elation. He splayed his fingers across her belly and realized that she hadn’t just been fighting for Justine and Amy Anne’s lives, but for the life of her unborn child. He laid his face against the back of her neck, unashamed of the tears that he shed.

  “Thank you, Mary Faith,” he said softly.

  And then it was morning.

  Mary was going to be dismissed, but she had adamantly refused to wear her dirty clothes ever again, and at her insistence, Daniel had gone home to get her some clean clothes.

  She had showered earlier, and was sitting on the side of the bed in her gown and robe, waiting for Daniel to come back when she heard a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  The door swung slowly inward, and then Mary started to smile. She didn’t recognize the four adults, but she knew the two little girls with them. She slid off the bed and then opened her arms.

  “My heroes,” she cried, and gathered them close to her breast. “Did you girls know that you saved me?”

  Justine nodded importantly, while Amy Anne ducked her head and then buried her face in the curve of Mary’s neck. Mary looked up then, remembering the adults who’d come with them.

  “Where are my manners?” she said. “Please sit down.”

  “Not until you get back in bed,” one of the women said.

  Justine took Mary by the hand. “We’ll help you, won’t we, Amy Anne?”

  Amy Anne nodded, then looked nervously toward her parents.

  “The girls can sit with me,” Mary said, as she got back in bed, and helped both of them up in her lap.

  Justine giggled as they snuggled close. “This is the way we slept in the room, isn’t it, Mary?”

  Mary’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, it sure is.”

  The parents gathered around her bed, all talking at once. Finally, it was Amy Anne’s father, Michael Fountain, who spoke for them all.

  “We don’t know how to thank you,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “Justine told us what you did. You saved their lives, and we will be forever in your debt.”

  “No,” Mary said. “You don’t owe me anything.” She thought back to the day she’d walked into that antique shop. “I didn’t used to believe this, but I do now. I think everything happens for a reason. Even the bad stuff. We don’t always understand why, but, eventually, it finally becomes clear. I was in that place because it was meant to be. I had to be there because of them, so don’t thank me, thank God. He’s the One who made it possible.”

  Then she hugged both the girls and tickled Amy Anne’s ear.

  “Do you remember what we promised we would do when we got to go home?”

  To Mary’s surprise, it was Amy Anne who answered.

  “Play with Hope.”

  Mary laughed with delight, then began to explain to the parents.

  “Hope is my little girl. Yesterday was her seventh birthday, but the party has been a little delayed. I kept telling the girls that they would soon see you again, and that when you said it was okay, that they could come and play with Hope.”

  “It’s a promise,” they echoed, then added, “And it’s also time for us to go. You need to rest,
but the girls were adamant about coming to visit. I think they needed to see for themselves that you were all right.”

  Mary hugged them close. “I am very okay, aren’t I?”

  Justine’s mother handed Mary a card.

  “Just a little something from all of us for what you did. Our phone numbers and addresses are enclosed. Please stay in touch.”

  “Thank you,” Mary said, and kissed both of the girls goodbye. As she did, it made her think of Hope and how badly she needed to hold her own child again.

  They left as quietly as they’d come. Mary waved until the door went shut, then she turned the card over, smiling to herself at the awkward writing of her name. Something told her that Justine and Amy Anne had done it themselves.

  She slid a fingernail beneath the flap and popped it open, then pulled out the card. As she read the verses, the hair on the back of her neck began to crawl.

  A promise made is a thing to behold

  A promise kept is worth more than gold.

  So I promise you forever a love strong and true Because you kept your promise when I needed you.

  Justine and Amy Anne had signed it, one in green pencil, one with a pink marker. But it was the verse that gave her a chill. She closed her eyes, picturing the antique store and the sign, Time After Time. She saw herself going inside, then moving down the narrow, dusty aisles to the back of the store—finding the jewelry case and then that ring. That marvelous ring that had let her change the future and her fate.

  There had been an engraving inside.

  I promise you forever.

  Forever was a long, long time with Daniel at her side.

  She leaned back against the pillows as the last of her uncertainty ebbed. As she waited for him to come back, she felt a tiny flutter beneath her heartbeat. A sigh of contentment slid through her, filling her with such a sense of peace.

  Yes, baby…I know you’re still there.

  Then she laid her hand on the flat of her stomach, as if in comfort to the tiny spark of new life that still burned.

  The girls weren’t the only ones who were depending on me, were they, sweet thing?

  She closed her eyes, letting the silence envelope her. A few minutes later, she heard the familiar tread of Daniel’s footsteps and sat up on the side of the bed, awaiting him with a smile.

  Epilogue

  The staircase at the O’Rourke house was entwined with fresh pine boughs and holly, and in the living room, the lights twinkled brightly on the six-foot Norfolk pine that Daniel, Mary and Hope had decorated last night. The scents of fresh greenery mingled with a simmering potpourri of sweet spices that Mary had going on the sideboard. She sat cross-legged in the floor in front of the tree, staring up at the lights, wanting to be close to the joy. Then her gaze slid to a very obviously handmade elf hanging from the lower branches.

  Last night she’d watched Hope pull it from the box of decorations and listened to her chatter as she reminisced about making it at school the year before. It had been made from a juice carton and a dozen or so multicolored pompons. It looked more like an explosion of fuzzy M&M’s, than one of Santa’s elves. The odd thing was, Mary thought she could remember watching Hope hang it proudly on the tree, when she knew in her heart she’d been very alone last year. The transition between her life before the antique shop and her life after was something she would never be able to share, but however it happened, she was forever thankful.

  Her wounds from the abduction had long since healed, although there were still nights when she woke up in a sweaty panic, thinking she was still fighting Howard Lee Martin for her life.

  Both Justine and Amy Anne were still in therapy but had become fast friends with Hope. With the naïveté of the child that she was, Hope had blithely accepted them as Mommy’s friends who had now becomes hers, as well.

  Howard Lee Martin had never gone to trial, but Daniel had assured Mary that the institution for the criminally insane where he had been committed was a far worse sentence than anything else he could have ever received. He would never see the light of day as a free man again, and for Mary and the little girls’ families, it would have to suffice.

  Her life was peaceful and filled with joy on a daily basis. She went to bed each night with a prayer of thanksgiving on her lips and woke up each morning, grateful for what she had. By this time next year, there would also be an addition to their family and for that Mary was ecstatic. She’d missed all those early memories with Hope, but she wasn’t going to miss them again.

  She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite ten. She still had time to run a quick errand before she met Daniel for lunch and she didn’t want to be late. Even though she was moving on with her new life, there was a part of her old one she needed to put to rest. She got to her feet, grabbed her coat and her purse as she headed out the door.

  The December wind was chilly, even for Savannah, and Mary was glad that she’d worn her long coat. She had been walking for blocks, trying to retrace the steps that she’d taken on the day her life had changed. Yesterday she’d taken a chance and called the dress shop where she once had worked, only no one there even knew her name. She accepted it as part of the confirmation for which she was searching, but she still wanted to see the old man.

  She’d found the Mimosa easily, the restaurant where she’d been supposed to meet her friend. From there, she’d walked up and down the renovated area of the old town, admiring the Christmas decorations in the windows while trying to find the antique store. But each time she turned down a new block, she came up empty. Frustrated, she thought about calling Daniel for directions, then discarded the notion. It would do nothing but worry him if he thought she was still locked in the past.

  She glanced at her watch and then sighed. If she didn’t start back to the parking garage where she’d left her car, she would be late meeting Daniel for lunch.

  She started to turn away when she noticed the window display in the jewelry store next door. Something about it rang a bell. She moved closer to look inside and realized she’d been here before.

  She turned abruptly, expecting to see the antique store directly across the street, but there was nothing but an empty lot. She frowned, thinking maybe she was confused about the area, then saw the knitting shop that had been on the east side of Time After Time. It was still there, as was the small coffee shop on the west, only there was nothing in between the two small businesses but dirt lot and space. Curious as to what had happened in the months since she’d been here, she hurried across the street to inquire.

  The knitting shop was small; overflowing with a bounty of yarns—opulent mohair, baby-soft cottons, as well as the sturdy, multi-hued wools. But Mary’s interest was not on the well-stocked store. She wanted to know what had happened to the shop that had been next door.

  “Good morning,” the clerk said, as Mary walked up to the counter. “May I help you find some yarns?”

  “Actually, I need some information about the store that was next door.”

  “You mean the coffee shop?”

  “No, the antique store.”

  The clerk frowned. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no antique store in the area.”

  Mary looked at the woman as if she’d suddenly lost her mind.

  “It was here in September and so was I. How long have you worked here?”

  “Ever since my mother retired, which is almost ten years now.”

  Mary’s palms started to sweat. This wasn’t making sense.

  “I don’t understand. I was in the store only a couple of months ago. I talked to the old man behind the counter. There was dust all over the stock, but I was there.”

  “You must have the wrong street,” the clerk said. “A lot of these blocks look alike, especially in the older part of the city.”

  “No. It was here,” Mary said. “I distinctly remember standing across the street and seeing the reflection in that window.” She pointed at the jewelry store across the street.

  “I don’t k
now what to tell you,” the clerk said.

  Before Mary could answer, the door to the back of the shop opened and a small, gray-haired woman came in.

  “That’s my mother. She’s lived here all her life. Maybe she can help.”

  Mary nodded, although she couldn’t imagine what the old woman might say that would eliminate this confusion.

  “Mother, this lady is looking for an antique store. She thought—“

  Mary interrupted. “It was on the lot between this store and the coffee shop. I was in there in September.”

  The old woman frowned. “No, honey…you must be mistaken. There hasn’t been anything on that lot since the late twenties.”

  “But I was there,” Mary said. “The store was called Time After Time and was full of dusty antiques.”

  “Not next door, you weren’t,” she said. “When I was a young girl, a man named Saul Blumenthal had a second-hand furniture store next door. He lived above it with his wife and baby boy. The store caught fire one night when Saul was at a meeting. By the time he got back, his business was gone and his family with it. It was the tragedy of our times.”

  “No,” Mary muttered, remembering the sad eyes in the old man’s face. “That’s not possible.”

  The old woman shrugged. “Well…it happened just the same.”

  “What happened to Saul Blumenthal?” Mary asked.

  “Oh, that was the saddest part. A couple of days later, he hanged himself from what was left of the structure. I think they shipped the bodies back East to be buried.”

  Mary took a deep breath and then walked out of the store. She paused on the sidewalk and then looked back at the lot, trying to make sense of what she’d just heard.

  She hadn’t dreamed it, because Daniel had mentioned the store more than once since she’d come home, commenting on the fact that when she’d passed out in the antique store it must have been because she’d been pregnant. Only she knew that hadn’t been so.

  As she stared at the small patch of dirt, she felt something against her face, like the breath of someone who’d passed too close to where she was standing.