by M. L. Ray
“Jenna, don’t. Please?” Trey wasn’t sure what he was asking for exactly, but he liked having her in his arms.
“Trey, I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” he asked, seeing the emotions in her facial expressions.
“I don’t do the whole physical touching thing. I’ve been hugged more today, in a single day, than I’ve been hugged in six years. And by different people!”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Trey asked her in a soft teasing voice.
Before she could stop herself, Jenna nodded, “Yes, but it’s also really confusing.”
“Why? Jenna, before you left town, you were one of the most affectionate people I knew. I used to watch you with Michelle and your other friends. Even as teenagers, you girls were always hugging each other, holding hands or just standing with arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders in support of whatever was happening.”
“That stopped after my mom died. Not right away, but when my father started getting physically abusive, I felt like I needed to hide my bruises, and the touching hurt! I started pulling away to protect myself.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart. I truly am,” Trey told her, a wealth of emotion in his voice as he softly looked into her eyes once again. He had the strongest desire to kiss her lips and see if they were as soft as they looked, but Trey was very cautious and held himself back. He wasn’t sure about the emotions Jenna evoked in him, and until he had a chance to sort them out, he wasn’t going to muddy the waters any more.
Dropping his hands from her waist, he stepped back, “I’m going to make some coffee. Want some?”
“No, I can’t stand the stuff.” Jenna shook her head to emphasize her distaste.
“How about some hot chocolate then?”
“Sure. But what are you doing with hot chocolate in your pantry? You hate chocolate if I remember correctly.”
“I do at that. Michelle, if you’ll remember, loves the stuff. She has it stashed all over the house!”
Jenna smiled, remembering the times when she and Michelle would sit in each other’s bedrooms, talking into the wee hours of the morning, eating chocolate in any form! “I remember! It’s a wonder we both didn’t weight three hundred pounds!”
Trey smiled at her, “I’ll go get the water started. Come out when you’re ready.” He turned and headed for the bedroom door.
“Trey?” Jenna called after him. When he looked back at her with a raised brow, she smiled before saying, “Thank you. I know you’re only trying to help me, but I wanted you to know I appreciate it. I’m…”
Trey walked back over and tipped her chin up, hating to see the lost look upon her face, “Jenna, I’m glad you’re here. In my house. In Cathedral Hills.” He let his thumb brush over her jawline, “In my life.” He paused as if he wanted to say more, but then dropped his hand and stepped back, “I’m going to go start the water and not confuse things even more by doing what I want to do.”
Jenna’s heart was racing as she softly inquired, “What is it you’re not going to do?”
Trey stopped in the doorway and then told her, “Kiss you. I’m not going to kiss you. Come out when you’re ready.” He exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Jenna stood in the middle of the room for several minutes, raising her fingertips to her lips and wondering what his kiss would have felt like. Jenna didn’t have much experience to go on; the house rules at the facilities she’d stayed at had very specific rules against fraternizing with others – male or female. That didn’t mean kids didn’t figure out ways around the rules, but Jenna had never had the desire to do so. The thought of any one of those boys kissing her made her nauseous.
But thinking about Trey kissing her had her breathing disrupted and butterflies dancing in her stomach. She didn’t find the idea repugnant, and the more she thought about it, the more she found the idea had some merit. Stop that line of thinking! Trey’s right in that you need to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of your life before you start thinking about romance! Until today, you hadn’t even thought about starting a relationship with anyone. Take things slow and one day at a time.
Chapter 14
Jenna awoke the next morning and headed out to the kitchen to find a note from Trey saying that he went into the bank for a few hours but would be back around lunchtime. He offered to take her back over to her parents’ home at that time.
Not one to rely on others, Jenna showered and changed into the only other pair of jeans she owned and a light peach t-shirt. Her clothing was serviceable and all obtained from the second hand store. Teresa had given her a hundred dollars before she left town, but Jenna had been loathed to spend the money on something as frivolous as clothing! Saving it in case she needed things like food, instead.
After having a bowl of cereal, she washed and rinsed her dishes and then put her shoes back on. Grabbing a backpack from her suitcase, she tossed in her wallet and headed out of Trey’s house. She and Michelle had walked back and forth to each other’s houses since they were six or seven. It was only five blocks, and as she stepped outside, she was greeted by the sun shining, and a slight breeze.
She meandered towards her parents’ house, taking in the fall colors of the changing leaves and recognizing that winter was indeed on its way. The tallest peaks in the distance were already turning white with snow, and Jenna knew it wouldn’t be long before Cathedral Hills started getting its share.
As she entered her childhood home once again, she smiled at how silly she’d been the day before. Sitting on the porch as if the house were full of vipers! It’s just a house. It can’t hurt you!
She dropped her backpack by the door and then climbed the stairs. Once again, she entered her bedroom and looked around. She opened the closet door and removed several items of clothing, wondering if they would still fit. She tried several things on and was amazed that the shirts fit fine, while the jeans were only slightly too large around the waist. Nothing a belt couldn’t take care of!
She picked out several outfits and then a few extra pairs of shoes and some sleeping attire. She was ever mindful of the fact that her father had never gotten rid of her things. She was also thankful to God for having provided for her needs in such a way.
As she headed back downstairs, she began humming to herself, the joy she found in singing coming back and putting a smile upon her face. A smile that was still there as she entered her father’s office and sat down behind the big oak desk. The surface of the desk was littered with papers, sorted into piles. One pile included envelopes that had been opened, the date received noted on the envelope, and then short messages regarding what needed to be done with the contents scrawled on the back of the envelope.
Jenna looked closer at the handwriting and realized it was Michelle’s! Had she been responsible for taking care of the house and the mail? Why would she have done that? Jenna flipped through the mail and realized the postmarks started about a week after her father’s death.
Michelle had taken over ensuring the house was kept up in her absence. As she flipped through the envelopes, one in particular captured her attention. It was a letter from Michelle, addressed to Teresa. What?!
Jenna cautiously unfolded the letter and began to read –
Dear Ms. Martinez,
Thank you for your kind communication. I am so thankful that you are there for Jenna. While I do not understand everything she has been through, I trust your judgment in whether or not she is ready to confront her past life. Please, when the time is right, let her know there are people here who care for her and miss her. She was like a sister to me, and a part of my heart has been missing since she left.
Michelle Cottrell
Jenna felt tears sting her eyes, and she quickly unfolded the other piece of paper that had been clipped to the first –
Ms. Cottrell,
Jenna has become like a daughter to me, even though we are only eight years apart in
age. She did not have an easy go of things, and in fact, represents one of the worst breakdowns in the juvenile system in this State I have ever seen. She is dealing with a lot of emotions surrounding her father’s death, and while I agree, reacquainting herself with her friends would be beneficial, I don’t know that she is ready for that at this time.
Please know that I am doing everything in my power to get her to go home for a visit. Jenna is a smart young woman with a heart of gold. I know that once she returns to Cathedral Hills, she will realize that is where she belongs. Until then, I will remain her friend and counselor, pushing her towards healing and recovery with God’s help.
Teresa Martinez
Jenna re-read the letters, trying to find some anger towards Teresa for keeping Michelle’s letter from her, but as her anger dissipated, she realized Teresa had done her a huge favor. If she had insisted on Jenna coming back home too soon, Jenna would have lashed out at everyone, creating a chasm that might have never closed. By waiting for the appropriate time and place, Teresa had ensured that Jenna would be able to look at the bigger picture and push her emotions to the side. Thank you!
Jenna put the letters in a pile to take with her, and began to methodically go through the paperwork in her father’s files. She finished perusing the larger drawers and then pulled out the center drawer where her father normally kept things like pens and rulers.
The usual office stuff was there, but a thin, brown leather book was what caught her eye. She removed it from the drawer and then opened it and began to read. It was a journal, and as she read a random entry, she realized it was a prayer journal. And it’s all about me!
Entry after entry recorded her father’s heartfelt pleas to God to bring his baby girl home. To keep her safe. To help her forgive him for violating her trust so severely. The list went on and on, and each entry showed evidence of having had water dripped on the page. Tears? Had her father cried over the entries as he wrote them? Oh daddy, what happened to us?
Jenna flipped back to the beginning and started reading. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn’t care. Her father had loved her and the fact that his actions had driven her away was something he had never gotten over.
She got to the last entry, noticing the date was the same as his death. He never stopped thinking about me! He loved me!
Jenna was still sitting in his chair, holding the journal in her hand and crying when Trey found her shortly before lunch. She looked up when she heard footsteps on the wooden floors, not surprised in the least to see Trey entering the office. “My dad loved me.”
“Of course he did.” Trey came over and leaned back against the edge of the desk, facing her as she scooted the chair back a little bit. “After he came back from rehab, making things right with you was all he could think about. He sold the guide business to some folks in Ridgway, and dedicated himself to trying to make amends for what had happened after your mother’s death.
“He even made weekly trips down to the correctional facility to speak with other men who had fallen victim to alcohol and drugs. He never gave up on finding you, and he spent the rest of his life trying to make amends for his behavior. He even had a new headstone placed over your mother’s grave.”
“Really?” Jenna asked, finding it easier to believe Trey today than yesterday. Before leaving Trey’s home this morning, she had placed a phone call to Teresa, and spent thirty minutes sharing with her friend and counselor everything she had discovered the day before. Teresa had encouraged her to take things slowly and not to burn any bridges until she had time to process all of her emotions.
Jenna had discussed everything with her, including the mix up at the bank, meeting with the girls the night before; she’d even mentioned Trey a time or two too many. Teresa had picked up on that fact and started asking questions. While starting any kind of relationship in the midst of strong emotional upheaval was a textbook mistake, Teresa had encouraged Jenna to allow herself the freedom to explore these new feelings. They could lead only to friendship, but you also wouldn’t want to miss out on something bigger if that is God’s plan.
Jenna had hung up the phone after Teresa prayed with her, determined to make some progress on her father’s office and deal with the feelings of attraction towards Trey separately. Yet here he is!
“Grab your stuff and come with me and I’ll show you,” Trey offered, pulling her up from the desk chair by her hand.
“Okay.” Jenna wasn’t sure how she felt about going to visit her mother’s grave. Intellectually she knew that her mother’s spirit wasn’t buried there, only her physical remains. And yet, in the course of studying for her degree, she had discovered that many people, regardless of the spiritual beliefs, found great comfort in visiting the gravesites of their loved ones and talking to them. Maybe I need to go talk to my father’s grave! I could tell him all of the things I’ve only ever spoken in my head!
Trey drove Jenna back to the other side of town and pulled over outside the graveyard. The open space was attached to the back of the church, and large trees provided shade in the summer, and were now blanketing the ground in their leaves of reds, yellows and orange. Beneath the layer of leaves, the grass was a vibrant green, and grave markers could be seen here and there.
Trey helped Jenna from the car, and then hung back as she started walking across the cemetery. He leaned back against the car, knowing this first visit was something she needed to do on her own. He was determined to be there for her, no matter how long it took.
Chapter 15
Jenna felt Trey hang back and was grateful for his intuition. She hadn’t wanted to seem ungrateful, but what she needed to say to her mother, and possibly her father, was between her and them. And God. Tucked in her pocket was the prayer journal of her father’s, and she worried the leather cover with her fingers as she walked to the small garden area where her mother had been buried.
When she saw the elaborate headstone, done in pink marble, and lovingly carved and inscribed, she sank to her knees and sobbed.
Here lies Belinda Baxter. Beloved mother. Adored wife. Child of God.
Taken from us too soon, but never to be forgotten.
Jenna let her tears flow, tears for the mother who had held their small family together and tears that should have been shed six years earlier, but had been held deep inside. When she could speak, she started talking, “Momma, I’m here. I know I haven’t visited before, but I’m here now. Things got really messed up after you died. Dad lost it. He started drinking again and I didn’t know what to do about it. He became this horrible person for a while, and my friends were so worried about me that they took me some place where they thought I’d be safe.
“The last six years have been awful and Trey says daddy changed and tried to find me. I wish I could have seen him one last time before he died too. I miss you, Mom.” Jenna dropped the journal and reached down to pick it up, accidentally moving the leaves over a grave marker next to her mother’s headstone. When she saw the name inscribed on the simple concrete marker, she gasped and felt a new surge of tears fill her eyes.
Jimmy Baxter.
Nothing else, other than the dates of his birth and death occupied the marker stone. No epitaph. No accolades of statements declaring what he meant to people while alive. Just a name. Jenna moved the leaves away; running her fingertips over the inscribed letters and feeling some of the old anger come back up. “You were horrible to me after mom died! I needed you and all you could think about was yourself. And where the next drink was coming from. I tried to help you, but I was only a kid! I wasn’t supposed to be taking care of you, it was supposed to be the other way around!”
Jenna stopped as she realized she was screaming her accusations at the concrete marker. Taking several breaths between her tears, she tried to calm herself down, but there was more to be said. “You hurt me. Not only physically, but you destroyed my spirit, my confidence, and my identity. It’s taken me over six years, and I thought I had it all together. I’ve
built my healing around hating you!”
She picked up the prayer journal, waving it in the air at the gravesite, “But then I found this! I can’t hate you, and I don’t know what to do about that. My life was so horrible at times; I would have gladly come home and gone back to being your punching bag, if it meant I could have just come home. How twisted is that! And now that I am home, nothing is as I thought. You made me doubt my worth! You pushed me away and it cut so deep, that I assumed everyone else had gone away because I wasn’t worth their time or energy.”
Jenna screamed out her anguish, continuing to tell her father’s gravesite everything she was feeling. When her voice grew hoarse, and her tears dried up, she was exhausted and simply lay down on the bed of leaves and sobbed for the loss of whom she’d once been.
Trey had been keeping a careful eye on Jenna until she started yelling at her father’s grave. His own father, Pastor Terrence Cottrell, had come out the side door of the church, having heard the commotion and concerned that someone was in need of assistance. When he saw his son keeping watch, he joined him by the SUV, “Is everything all right?”
Trey shook his head, “Dad, I don’t know. Jenna’s been out there by her parents’ gravesites for almost an hour now. She started screaming at her dad a few minutes ago. I’m really worried about her.”
Trey looked at his dad and then confided in him, “She thinks we all abandoned her because she never heard from any of us. You wouldn’t believe some of the things she told me happened at the youth facilities she was in over the years. She’s had it so rough, and to go through that believing that everyone had thought so little of you, you weren’t worth contacting or keeping in touch….I can’t even begin to know how to help her.”
