The Heart Will Lead You Home

by Kristin Leedy

  Lizzie walked around the bedroom where she had grown up, fingering items from her past as she remembered those days gone by. Ribbons she’d won in school mingled between pictures of her and Mary Catherine and her very best friend, Grace. A trophy she’d earned in a softball tournament sat on the edge of a desk her father made when he was younger. It was painted green and if she looked hard enough, on the upper left corner of the side closest to her bed would have I hate mama carved into the wood from when she’d felt particularly cruel after a teenage spat with her parents.

  There were several shoe boxes that lined the top shelf of her closet, and she took a few minutes to read a few of the notes she and Grace passed back and forth during history class. She found an old, faded friendship bracelet. And in the very bottom of the last box, a picture caught her attention, and she gasped. It wasn’t the people in the picture that startled her, but rather the way they looked.

  Payton Cartwright held her wrapped in his arms and they stood linked together like they somehow always had been, in front of a waterfall. One of Payton’s arms faded off the page because he had been the one taking the picture, and both of them were staring at each other, smiling, because as she remembered it, that was just after the first time they had made love.

  In a flash anger more intense than she had experienced in years boiled up. Her fingers trembled, and she forced herself to put the picture back in the box and close the lid. It was in the past, she reminded herself. Besides, she was engaged and would be married in two weeks and it was ridiculous to dwell on the past. And she refused, refused, to allow any more images of Payton to ruin her mental rehearsal of the wedding. Mrs. Josh Turner, Mrs. Josh Turner, she repeated to herself.

  She was still repeating it to herself with her eyes closed as she brushed her teeth, when her mom tapped on the door to her bedroom. “Honey?” Her mom’s dark hair and dark eyes peered around the corner.

  Lizzie spat in the sink. “In here.”

  “I forget to give this to you earlier, but I thought you might want it. It’s just some mail that came here for you.” Faith edged farther into the room. “Anyway, I’ll leave it on the bed. Night, night, now.”

  “Thanks, mom. Night.”

  Lizzie washed and dried her face then flipped the light off in her bathroom and sat on the edge of her bed. Her body was tired and she was looking forward to a long night’s sleep, but first she’d open the mail. Three pieces were junk mail that her mother should have just thrown away, but fourth was a white letter size envelope that made her pause. She could have recognized that writing anywhere. Printed on the center of the envelope in tiny, neat script writing were her name and her parent’s address. There was no return address, but that didn’t matter. Return addresses weren’t necessary when you knew the place by heart.

  She already knew that when she opened the letter the name signed at the end would be Payton Cartwright. The only problem was… she had no idea what the rest of the letter would say. Nothing in her head could conjure up a legitimate reason that this man, this man that she hadn’t laid eyes on in six years, and hadn’t had a decent conversation with in eight would need to contact her. Besides, if he needed to talk to her, couldn’t he have just called her on the phone?

  How many times in her life had she read notes from him? Perhaps only a handful that she could remember, but she knew without a seed of doubt in her mind, that it was his letter that she held in her hands. She supposed she should stop stalling and rip the letter open. She would have preferred ripping it into a thousand tiny shreds and letting them flutter away in the breeze, but her curiosity won out and wouldn’t let her do what her heart wanted.

  Instead, she found herself gently pulling the seal apart and staring at the beginning of a note she had never in a million lifetimes imagined would be in her hands two weeks before her wedding day.

  Lizzie,

  I can’t tell you how long I sat here wondering how I should even begin this letter. Do I say, Dear Lizzie, because in reality that is what you are? Though I doubt you would even know that considering all that has happened in our past. I decided on just Lizzie, thinking maybe that way you would at least move beyond the first word of this letter.

  Somehow when I’ve thought about writing you this letter, I’ve never quite known how to start it out. What do I say to you? Where do I even begin?

  I’m sorry for not making what I’m about to say more obvious over these past years, and I’m sorry for ever letting life get between us. But I can never be sorry for sending this to you. If I didn’t I would always wonder… what if. I would always wonder if it would have made a difference if I had tried to tell you how I feel. And so here goes…

  Some people are just special. Some people have an effect on you that is more profound than you realize in the time you are with them. And sometimes it takes losing that person to realize how special they truly are, and how much you would give to get them back.

  That’s the way I feel about you, Liz. Oh, I knew you were special the first day I met you. It’s true. And I know you thought I was just some dumb jock that only cared about being popular and chasing girls, but I noticed you, and I knew you were something different. You have this way of walking into a room and lighting it up by just being in it. And it amazes me still to this day that I have no choice but to smile every time I think about you.

  I have thought about you for years. In truth, I have thought about you every day of my life and wondered if there would ever be a time that I would hold you in my arms again. I can only hope against hope that one day I might be able to.

  Your wedding was something I didn’t have to face until a few weeks ago. When I got the invitation to your wedding at your parent’s house, it became all too real. And I realized then that this was my last chance to tell you how I feel and hope that by some miracle it makes a difference in your life. I know it makes a difference in mine.

  I wanted to call you, or see you. I wanted to hear you laugh again, but I was afraid I had messed things up so badly between us that there was no way to repair the damage. I’m a new man, Lizzie. If you could only see me now, what I wouldn’t do to prove my love for you.

  I love you, Lizzie. I love you more than I ever knew I could love someone, and it breaks my heart to know that I may have ruined any chance of ever having my love returned. But I want what is best for you. I don’t know Josh, but I trust that you have chosen a good man to be your husband. My only hope is that Josh can give you everything that you deserve. You are one of a kind, Liz, and I hope he knows that. Still though…I would trade every possession I have if I could just have one more chance to show you how special you are to me.

  With all my love,

  Payton

  Long before the letter had ended, Lizzie had sunk onto the bed, her body facing the ceiling as she read. When the letter was finished, she let it fall to the floor beside her, and she cried herself to sleep.

  Part One: The Old Life

  Chapter One

  The day she came home from school and found her entire house packed into a moving truck, Lizzie knew her life was about to change forever. She hadn’t even fully stepped off the school bus when she spotted the large truck backed up her driveway, and the moving men hauling furniture up the planks into the back of the vehicle. Her father smiled at her when he stepped through the front door carrying a large cardboard box in his arms.

  He actually smiled at her. In all her twelve years of life, she had never seen a smile so full of regret.

  “Hi, Honey. Have a good day at school?”

  Lizzie didn’t respond. She dropped her book bag on the green grass of their sloping front yard and stared as the moving men hauled her favorite couch through the doors and up the ramp.

  “There’s some juice and cookies in the kitchen if you want some. We’re probably going to be leaving in a few minutes, though.”

  She still couldn’t believe they were moving. Only last week her father sat them all down in the den one night before bed and ex
plained to her and Mary Catherine that they were moving somewhere new. Her mother sat huddled on one corner of the couch with a blanket pulled around her shoulders and tears streaming down her face. Her father even cried at one point, and she couldn’t remember a time, ever, that her father had shed tears.

  He leaned forward in their old, faded recliner and laced his fingers together between his knees. “Your mother’s been sick. You know that, right?”

  Lizzie eyed her mother again. She was rocking herself back and forth gently, and Lizzie wondered if she would ever snap out of this depression she’d been in since she lost the baby. Slowly, she turned her gaze back to her father and nodded.

  “Well, the doctor’s recommended that we make a new start, and to be honest, I have to agree with him. God knows, I haven’t agreed with much else.”

  Lizzie couldn’t quite figure out what he was trying to tell them, but she was losing interest and fast. She scrubbed her striped socks across the carpet wondering if rug burn could be felt through socks.

  “Anyway… I’ve bought this beautiful house for us in this nice little town. And I’ve just been hired there as the branch manager of the local bank.” He stood and smiled, acting like this was the best news ever. “You’re gonna love the name of this place. Edenville. Edenville, Alabama. Doesn’t that sound great?”

  Her mother sniffled, and blew noisily into a tissue. Mary Catherine’s jaw about hit the ground. Lizzie’s insides were doing a funny little flip-flop routine, but outwardly she yawned and twisted one of her long, curly strands of hair around her finger. Moving from Chicago to some nowhere Alabama town wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time.

  “Well, anyway. I can see you’re not that thrilled about it right now, but you’ll get used to the idea. We’re leaving next week.”

  That got Lizzie’s attention. “Next week! But the school year’s already started. What am I going to tell my friends?”

  He beamed a smile at her. “I have it all planned out. This weekend we’re going to have a big going away party for you and MC’s friends. You can tell them goodbye there. It’ll be perfect.”

  A party sounded nice, but she knew it was just a bribe to keep her happy. Lizzie wasn’t falling for his tricks, and she glared at her father.

  “Dad, how could you? You’re taking me away from here, my home, my friends, my life, and for what? So mom can get better? Look at her; she’s nothing but a bump on a log anymore, anyway!”

  He crossed the room in one pace and grabbed her by the arm. “Apologize, immediately.” Lizzie shrank back and after a moment she bit out an insincere apology.

  “Look at her.” He paused and forced her to look at her mother. “This is exactly my point. She needs help, and if I can’t help her when I promised to be the person that would at least try, then who’s going to do it?” Her father knelt down so they were eye to eye. “You may not like it, and I’m sorry that you don’t, but moving is the best option for her right now. Life can’t always be about you. Sometimes it’s about other people, too.”

  Angry tears welled up in her eyes, and she wanted so badly to curl up in his arms like she’d always done in the past, but he was the source of her anger right now and she pulled away from him instead. Lizzie saw the shock that registered in his eyes, and she felt a quick tug of satisfaction.

  “I hate you!” Heartbroken, she stomped dramatically out of the room.

  Now, a week later, she stood on the lawn and watched as the men loaded her bedroom suite. Ed Benford put down the box he’d been hauling and walked over to her. “Are you ready to go, sweet pea?”

  He reached out to touch her hair but she ducked away. She still wasn’t speaking to him, and she wanted to make certain he knew she was angry with him for making them move.

  Her father sighed as she walked away. “I know you’re mad at me sweetie, but you’ll thank me one day.” Right, when H-E-double hockey sticks froze over.

  Thirty minutes later she sat strapped in the farthest corner in the back seat of her parent’s station wagon thinking of all the ways she would repay her father as soon as she got the chance. She could already imagine her satisfaction at watching him wake with toothpaste smeared all over his face.

  No. That wasn’t quite good enough. She’d have to think this one through a little better.

  The sun was beginning to set and as it dipped lower in the sky Lizzie squinted against the bright orange light and tried to think of the ultimate payback for this cruel joke her parents were playing on her. Just looking at them up there in the front seat made her stomach roll.

  Her mother leaned against the passenger window pretending to be asleep, even though everyone in the car knew she wasn’t. Her father hummed along to the radio, bopping his head from side to side, looking like he hadn’t had a better day in his whole life.

  He would think that, she grumbled inwardly. She’d bet money that inside her parents were thrilled that they had just ruined their oldest daughters life. They, of course, had nothing better to do than think up ways to ruin their children’s life, after all.

  A sideways glance at her sister told her Mary Catherine wasn’t enjoying their father’s humming anymore than she was. She sat with her long, dark hair- the exact coloring of hers and her fathers- slumped over her face, staring down at a comic book, plugging both her ears with two tiny little fingers trying to drown out his obvious lack in singing skills. Neither one had inherited his awful voice, thank God.

  Lizzie punched the pillow that was nestled up next to the window, trying to make the feathers inside it reposition so she could maybe fall asleep. She didn’t know where this Edenville was, but she sure wasn’t going to stay awake and think about it any longer.

  Couldn’t her parents at least have decided to do this before school started for the year? The thought snuck in the back door even though she was trying her hardest not to think. She closed her eyes and tried to envision her best friend Sarah’s face with her blond curls and insanely blue eyes. Oh, and she could never forget those huge buck teeth that made her look just a little like a donkey. Lizzie thought about the spend the night party they’d had together, and tried to ignore the ache in her heart.

  Her father glanced in the rearview mirror and caught her eyeing him with a vicious glare. “How’s it going back there?” he asked as he smiled. She shot him the look she’d seen her mother fix on him when she wanted to prove she was M-A-D and hoped that he’d get the message.

  Ed Benford watched his daughter glare at him from the back seat with the same maddening look her mother had perfected long, long ago. He’d give just about anything to see Faith shoot him that look now instead of the blank, emotionless void she had been displaying for the past few weeks. Months, actually, if he let himself be realistic.

  The doctors tried to tell him that she wasn’t getting better. He’d seen it, of course. Ed kept hoping that if he held out a little longer she might snap out of this… funk… eventually.

  Depression. That was the term the doctor’s were using. Severe post partum depression. She’d lost the baby three days before the due date, and he had never seen anyone so shaken in his entire life. He’d been shaken, too, but it was nothing compared to Faith’s apparent misery.

  When she stopped sleeping at all during the night and began to wander around the baby’s room singing lullaby’s to a nonexistent child, he started to worry. She hardly ate, and her beautiful blue eyes were dull and lusterless. She didn’t smile, she never talked, and when he could drag a hug out of her she was nothing but bones underneath pale, lifeless skin.

  He found her passed out on the bathroom floor one morning with a bottle of pills in her hand, and that had been the wake up call. He couldn’t lose his wife. Not now, not ever. He needed her too much to let her go. He loved her too much to let her go.

  He glanced over at her and smiled then focused back on the road. He didn’t think she’d notice if he was driving naked with a clown nose and purple hair on his head, but the doctor’s told him to keep tryin
g and eventually he’d get through to her.

  He pulled into line at a drive through when it came time for dinner, having made the executive decision that at least one of the three women would rebel in some form or fashion if he’d actually stopped to get them dinner. A drive-through was so much easier to deal with when a man had three hostile women in the car. He was beginning to think if he could learn to deal with the emotional roller coaster ride living with three women afforded, he could live through anything.

  He took the large paper bags of burgers the over large worker handed him and passed it to the back of the station wagon. A pair of hands took the bag. In silent agreement, the entire vehicle devoured the meal in silence, not even a thank you bestowed on the man who purchased the food.

  Ed knew he had no room to pout, but still he felt like it. Here he was, simply trying to do what was best for his wife and his family, and yet he got no respect for it. Instead, his family looked like a bunch of lemon-heads all puckered and pouting in their respective corners of the car. He could only take so much more of this abuse, he decided, before he would have to call a family meeting and set the crew in line.

  That night at the motel room, Ed watched his daughters lying side by side in the double bed across the room. His beautiful, precious daughters. Even though they were two years apart in age, they could pass themselves off as identical twins, and he felt a spurt of pride knowing they were miniature, female versions of him when he was younger. The same dark, thick mass of curling hair, and green eyes that looked like emeralds under the hot, noon sun.

  Ed’s smile turned to a frown and he wondered how long Lizzie would stay mad at him. He knew Lizzie felt like she been dealt a rough hand, but he hoped that eventually she’d come to understand that he was doing this to save her mother’s life.

  Mary Catherine was a little younger and seemed to be handling it okay. He’d see about setting up some time with a counselor in Edenville and make sure the girls worked out any issues they had with the move.