Those experts failed, however, to enlighten her about how to proceed with telling your children you were married and subsequently divorced before their adoption, so was forced to wing it. “Yes, baby, that’s mommy. A long time ago,” she said and let out the breath she’d been holding.
Hope’s finger traced the veil in the photo. “You were a bride?”
Lillie just nodded, unable speak even if she’d had a clue about what to say. She held her breath again, hoping her daughter wouldn’t recognize Jonathan in the photo. What she said next, stole the breath from her.
A look of pure joy spread across Hope’s face, and she looked at her mother and whispered, “I have a daddy?” As if speaking the precious sentence aloud would jinx it.
For a moment, Lillie could not make a sound. The pain of losing Jon sliced though her just as it had when it’d been fresh. She pushed it away for now because her daughter needed her, and she reached for Hope’s hand as she said, “No, baby. We still don’t have a Daddy in our family.”
“But you were a bride?” Hope asked, a hopeful tremor remaining in her voice. She looked crestfallen, and it was all Lillie could do not to break down in tears as well.
“Mommy was married long before you were born, but it didn’t work out,” was all she could think of to say in reply.
Hope looked wise beyond her years. Because she was so sensitive, she understood her mother was hurting, too, and she tried to smile when she said, “That’s okay Momma. We’re lucky in lots of other ways,” parroting what her mother always told her and her brother whenever the subject of fathers came up.
At a loss for words, Lillie hugged her daughter to her for a long time. It was Hope who let go first and used the corner of her blanket to dry her mother’s face. Lillie hadn’t even realized that she’d been crying.
“I’m tired, Momma. I’m going to bed,” Hope said.
“I’ll be in to tuck you in, in a minute, sugar. I love you.”
Hope left the room, quietly opened the adjacent door, slipped through and silently closed it behind her.
Lillie sat on her bed for a moment. Damn you, Jonathan Albert Oleson. Damn you for leaving me and making even my daughter miss you. Damn you because I still care, seven years later. But even as she thought the words, she knew it wasn’t his fault alone. As she rose to tuck her daughter in as promised, she feared she had mostly herself to blame.
Chapter Sixteen
Lillie walked through her living room one last time. Her own suitcase sat near the front door and all of their personal things were packed. Boxes lined the hallway and the walls of most of the rooms awaiting the movers Rand and Catherine supplied. On Monday, they would commence packing and carting all of their possessions to the new house, only three miles away. Cassie volunteered to supervise and make sure the furniture found its way to the appropriate rooms, because Lillie would still be in Minnesota.
Memories abounded in this house. She’d lived here for forty-one years, but she knew it was time to move on. Life changed, thank God. She had the children now, and they needed more room. The new house was a necessity, but leaving the only home she’d known was bittersweet, at best.
She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she was as nervous as Hope at the change in their address. Alex seemed to pay no mind to the upcoming move, but she knew better. He was apprehensive, too. As much as her children wanted to have their own rooms, she knew they’d miss the closeness at night.
Their entire lives had happened in this house, hers included. Soon there would be nothing left but memories and she hoped they’d be as easily packed and preserved as her mother’s china.
Lillie touched the spot on the wall where Hope’s whirling toy Sky Dancer rammed the wall and left an indentation. She paused at the coffee table where Alex lurched into her arms as he took his first steps, while Hope cheered.
She wandered into the dining room and watched the dust motes swirling in the late afternoon sunlight as it streamed through the three high windows above the built-in oak breakfront. She remembered so many happy times. Animated dinners with her children full of tales of school. Her charred attempts at cooking in her early marriage and the last breakfast they ate together as a family when she was a child.
She wandered through the adjacent swinging door to the kitchen and remembered baking with her mother, her sister in the highchair with an arrowroot cookie. Her mother patiently taught her to measure ingredients for her father’s favorite oatmeal and raisin cookies and later Lillie herself held the cup as Hope filled it with the oats and flour.
Just then, she heard a car in the driveway, interrupting her walk down memory lane. Jonathan, as good as his word, pulled up in front of her house at precisely five o’clock. She’d said a tearful goodbye to the children earlier in the day—tearful for her anyway—she had scarcely been away from her children overnight, let alone for a week. She would miss them terribly, but they were so excited to go on this adventure with their grandparents, they could hardly sit down after she told them.
She was thankful they were making these memories with their grandparents, but it was still hard to wave goodbye.
Out her window, she saw Jonathan take her front steps two at a time and reach for the screen door. Thinking better of it, his hand retreated and reached instead for the doorbell.
Scarcely before the peal of the bell had ended, Lillie shouldered her tote bag in one hand and small suitcase in the other and opened the door. Jon smiled when he saw her and reached to take her bag.
“I can get it,” Lillie said, and Jon pulled back his extended hand as swiftly, as if he’d reached toward a flame. His brow knit together. Great. He was already irritated with her, and the trip hadn’t begun.
“Are you ready?”
“As soon as I lock the deadbolt.” Lillie paused for a moment, but quickly shut the door and turned the key in the lock. She jiggled the door handle one last time and followed Jon down the steps to Donna’s van.
Lillie turned back to the house for one last look. Jonathan looked at her quizzically and said, “Did you forget something?”
“I hope not,” she said, and she shook her head. “I don’t live there anymore,” she said sadly.
“You don’t? Where do you live?” He looked at her as if he couldn’t fathom what she was talking about.
“It’s sold. The movers are coming on tomorrow, and when I get back to LaSalle, I’ll be going to a different house.”
“You’re kidding me,” he said.
“Nope. We needed more room…”
“I’d think it would be hard for the kids to share.”
“Yes,” she said, still melancholy. “One of the many reasons it was time to go.”
Jon looked at her helplessly, as if not knowing what to say to ease the situation, so he stayed silent.
“Let’s go. It’s a long drive, and we’ve got a girl anxious to see her grandma.”
“Sure thing. Hop in.” He gestured.
Molly sat in her wheelchair, secured inside the van. Lillie opened the side door and climbed in next to her. Jonathan got in the driver’s seat and adjusted the rear view mirror so that Lillie was in his field of vision, and he said, “Are you sure you’re going to be comfortable enough back there?”
“I’ll be fine. When she goes to sleep, I’ll move up front.”
“Sounds good,” he said, and readjusted the mirror so it could be of use while driving.
As he pulled away from the front of her house, he handed back a sheaf of papers. “I’ve marked our route and where we will need to stop for fuel. I’ve also cross-referenced those stops with the sheets of paper that have the corresponding color-coded tabs. That is the description of the restaurants available in those areas.”
Lillie’s mouth dropped open and she managed an, “Oh,” before Jonathan continued.
“I’d like to get through Chicago before we stop for dinner. I brought some snacks and drinks in case you get hungry or thirsty.”
Lillie was still speech
less, but managed, “I’m fine.” During their marriage, Lillie planned every trip. She always preferred to be organized and would pour over guidebooks, atlases and the Internet.
She planned. Jonathan did. The fact he had planned their journey with such detail, let alone cross-referenced and color-coded the rest stops floored her. She studied the back of his head for a moment before she reached for Molly’s hand.
Lillie smiled at her niece and said, “Here we go, Molly girl—we’re off on our adventure!”
* * *
Jon shook his head and blinked several times to clear his vision. The midnight road and the reflectors imbedded in the pavement were mesmerizing him. He knew, for their safety, he needed to bring his mind to the present. Their scheduled rest stop was only a few miles ahead. He wanted to stretch his legs. He hoped some fresh air would help him turn off the constant movie that played in his head since the van became quiet. Both Lillie and Molly had fallen asleep after dinner, shortly before crossing the Wisconsin/Illinois boarder.
Snapshots ran through his mind, one after another. He saw Lillie as a young co-ed, at Cassie and Ben’s newlywed apartment where they’d first met. In a kayak with a look of triumph on her face after having successfully navigated her first class five rapid on her own. In tears when they’d been told they’d lost first one son, then a second and lastly, in sleep as he covered her with a blanket and walked out the door.
He’d been wrong when he’d decided he could walk out of her life—push her to the back of his mind and go on without her. He’d known he would suffer, but he had no idea the breadth and length of the pain he’d endure alone. He’d known he would miss her, but he hadn’t known he would never again be whole without her.
He glanced at Lillie, asleep in the rear seat with her head on her shoulder and her arm around Molly protectively, and he realized he’d sold her short. He’d made himself feel better by telling himself he was doing what was best for her. He’d held on to his belief for years as a way to survive his own pain. These last weeks he began to doubt himself for the first time.
Jon signaled and steered the van onto the exit ramp for the rest stop. The shift in speed and direction roused Lillie, and she awoke with a start. Wide-eyed, she looked around and surveyed her surroundings. Her eyes met his in the rear view mirror before darting away self-consciously. She raised her arms above her head and stretched her shoulders, more than likely stiff from the contorted position, as he drew the van to a halt in front of the building housing the restrooms and vending machines.
“Are we there yet?” Lillie asked and grinned as she rubbed her neck to loosen the kinks.
“About half way,” he answered.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep. You must be exhausted.”
“I’m doing okay.” Jon smiled. At least not everything had changed. On previous road trips, Lillie would vow to stay awake to keep him company and take her turn at the wheel. More often than not, she would be asleep within twenty miles, daylight or dark, having been lulled to sleep by the motion of the car, like an infant. He wondered for a moment, who drove her now? He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It was none of his business.
“Jon?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you getting out?”
Jon realized he was still sitting in his seat and turned red. “Yeah, I’m just going to stretch my legs a bit and find a soda. You go ahead and go first.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Lillie stood and shimmied through the gap between the front seats. She couldn’t open the only middle door, adjacent to Molly’s chair lift, because she didn’t want to wake her.
Jonathan resisted the urge to reach out and touch her hair as it skimmed his shoulder. He put both hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead as if to seal himself away from Lillie’s still lithe body as she contorted and dropped herself gracefully into the front passenger seat and opened the door.
“I’ll be right back.”
He turned his head, looked at her tousled hair and sleepy eyes, and at once realized his mistake. Parts of him that had lain dormant for several years suddenly snapped to attention. It was all he could do not to reach out and pull her back into the van.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, much more casually than he felt. “Take your time.”
* * *
Jon rubbed the sleep from his eyes and straightened in the van’s passenger seat when Lillie exited the freeway north of Duluth. As he looked around to gain his bearings, he swiveled his neck attempting to ease the crick that had formed while he slept, head wedged between his shoulder and the doorframe.
“Good morning,” Lillie announced cheerfully and handed him a cup of Starbuck’s finest.
Jon growled as reached for the steaming brew. He sipped greedily for several seconds and placed the cup back in the holder on the dash, turned his head and smiled, “Good morning.”
“It’s going to be a lovely one,” Lillie said as she motioned out his window to the east.
For a moment, they both gazed at the pink and purple dawn. Jon checked his watch and realized he’d been asleep for hours.
Lillie sighed. “I’d nearly forgotten how beautiful a northern sunrise is.”
“I always offer the folks on my tours an early morning sunrise walk at least once on the trek.”
“That’s a neat feature. Unique.”
“Looks good on the brochure, but you would be surprised how many people don’t take advantage of it.”
Lillie laughed, “Well, I can remember when you were not such a happy morning person yourself, Mr. Oleson.”
“True, but you weren’t exactly a morning dove yourself, Lillie-bean.”
“I—” Lillie fell silent at the nickname, one of Jon’s many favorites for her and a play on “jellybean.”
Jon looked away towards the horizon, as he too, realized what he’d said.
Lillie recovered first and continued, “I do better now. Children change that. Hope is a late sleeper, like me, but Alex is up with the sun.”
“The children have changed more than your sleeping habits.” He turned in his seat to face her. “They’ve changed you too, Lil.”
“Me?” she asked. “I’m just the same old me, in the same old town, doing what I’ve always done.”
“But there’s one distinct difference.”
“What’s that?” she laughed.
“You’re happy.”
Lillie paused for a moment and then replied, “You’re right.”
“Being a mom is just what you needed to be,” he said flatly, avoiding her gaze.
Lillie paused again for a moment to consider what he said, and she realized he was right. She was happy and if she were honest, she would admit that she not been when she was younger and still married to Jonathan.
It had only been when she’d stopped feeling sorry for herself and taken her destiny in her own hands that she’d found the contentment she now enjoyed.
Molly called from the back seat, and Jon swiveled to bid his niece good morning. He tousled her hair and took her hand. She rewarded him with a lopsided grin, and he blew her a kiss.
“You seem to be doing well, too.” Lillie said, attempting to turn the discussion from herself to Jon. She’d come a long way in the last few days, but she still did not feel altogether comfortable revisiting the past with her ex-husband.
“The business is doing well.”
“It must have been difficult, starting a business from scratch.”
“I started small. I had an old run-down storefront, a couple of canoes, a cot and a hot plate. It just kind of skyrocketed from there.”
“Tell me about the kind of trips you offer?”
“Well, we do pretty much everything. Guided, full service, two to ten days. We have some cabins to overnight in or we have tenting tours.”
“It surprised me you would give up working with kids. You have a gift for understanding what makes a teenager tick.”
“Oh, I haven’t given it up entirely.
We have several ‘outward-bound’ type programs”
“Really? That’s wonderful,” Lillie exclaimed.
“City kids looking for adventure sometimes, but mostly at-risk kids on the edge.”
“That must be tough.”
“It is. My manager, well, partner now, Bren, handles the shop and the bookings. That frees up a lot of time for the kids.”
“Partner?” Lillie asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah, the business was getting to be more than I could handle alone and with Mom…anyway, her name is Brenna and she’s a marketing phenom and a great C.O.O. as well.”
Lillie understood the abbreviation C.O.O., stood for Chief Operations Officer, but she was surprised Jon’s little business was big enough for one. She supposed that when you owned the place you could call people what you wanted to call them…even if it seemed a bit grandiose.
Jonathan motioned out the window. “See there?” He pointed at a billboard flanking the side of the road, which bore the stylized logo she remembered from his business card and “Oleson Outfitters” in large, bold type.
Lillie was impressed. The beautifully designed billboard boasting gold lettering made her even more anxious to arrive in Whitetail. She realized with a start, the trees were thinning, indicating they were nearing town at last.
“Where are we going?”
“I live adjacent to the store in the inn.”
“The inn?”
“Yes, it is attached to the store and across from the Chocolate Moose. Do you remember where that is? On Main Street?”
“Okay, yeah. Just go straight?” Lillie asked as she steered through the outskirts of town.
“Yep.”
Coming Home Page 15
