It isn’t my usual day to work, but I covered for Anna this morning, who had a dental appointment. Because Corners of the Mouth is a co-op, we’re all part owners of the store. Most of the proceeds go back into the store and the community. We’re also like family. This may seem like a small job to some, but, like, for me, it has meaning. I’m contributing to something important.
The time here helps me forget the other stuff going on in life right now—like my dad. He’s been here several days, but I still don’t get why. After spending some time with Miles, talking to my mom, and my counselor, I’m feeling sort of better and eating a little bit. I still have to work through my feelings though . . . and talk to my dad. But for now, while I’m here, it’s sort of like a reprieve. When Anna comes in, I’ll have to get back to the rest of my life.
I sit across the kitchen table from my dad, who seems uncomfortable. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s around.”
My counselor suggested I have this conversation someplace where I feel safe. Not because she thinks my dad will flip, but because I’ll feel, like, more confident or in control if we meet on my terms. So when he called and asked me to go to lunch with him, I said no. When he said he wanted to see me, I told him he’d have to come here.
I could tell he didn’t like that. But for some reason he came anyway.
“So let’s go somewhere. Do something.” He moves to stand.
“No, wait. I want to ask you something.” He settles back in his seat but I can hear his foot tapping against the wood floor. “Why are you here?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid. “Because you didn’t want to go to lunch and said to come—”
“No. Why are you in Mendocino? Why did you come here?”
“To see you. Believe me, there’s nothing else to do here.”
I sit up straighter. “You never cared about seeing me before.”
“Listen, Twila, I may not win any father-of-the-year awards, but I’ve always provided for you, and provided well. You can’t deny that. But my life took a different turn. After I remarried, I had other responsibilities.”
“And now?”
He’s quiet for a moment and then he smiles. His gray eyes shine. For a moment I see the daddy whose love I clamored for. The “charmer,” as I’ve heard my mother call him.
“I was going to wait to tell you this, wait until we’d spent more time together, but since you’re pushing me, I’ll tell you now. I have a business opportunity, the one I’ve worked my whole life for—it’s finally come through—and I want you to come with me to New York. You can leave Hippyville behind and get a taste of the real world. It’s time you begin acting like the adult you are, Twila. I’ll set you up in your own place, an apartment near my penthouse. In turn, you can help me—act as hostess when I have business dinners or associates over for drinks. You can take care of things for me. It’s a generous offer, and you certainly don’t have anything going on here.”
I try to ignore his barbs and focus on the point. “But why? Can’t your wife do that?”
He shrugs. “I’m not taking her with me. I filed for divorce last month.”
I ball my hands into fists under the table. “What about your kids?”
“They’ll be fine.”
“Just like I was fine?”
“You’re great. Look at you.”
Tears fill my eyes. “You . . . don’t know. You don’t know what I . . . went through.”
“C’mon. It’s all in the past. We can start fresh. Share an adventure together.”
I shake my head. The charm he exudes is replaced by manipulation.
“Twila.” His voice is firm now. “I’ve supported you all these years—made sure you had everything you needed. The best schools, medical care, whatever you needed. Now it’s your chance to support me.”
I choke back my tears and ask the question I’ve wanted to ask since I was a child. “Do you . . . love me?”
His foot starts tapping under the table again. He blows out a breath through his teeth. “Of course I love you, I’m your father. Now, why don’t you go pack a bag and we can send for the rest of your things later. Now that you know the plan, there’s no reason to hang around here any longer.”
As I’ve watched him and listened to him, my stomach has clenched and unclenched over and over. Bile rises in my throat. I take a deep breath, praying I won’t be sick right here, right now.
“No.” I take another breath. “I won’t go.” Then I speak the truth I’ve always known but denied. “You don’t love me. You never have.” Tears blur my vision again. “But for some reason, now you need me, or think you need me. It’s never been about me. Like, all you can see, all you can love, is yourself.” As I speak and accept the truth, my stomach relaxes. “You . . . starved me. I was so hungry for your—”
“Listen, young lady, I don’t need your—”
“No! You listen.” I stand up. “I was so hungry for your love. I just wanted to please you, to make you love me. But now . . . now I get it. You won’t . . . you won’t ever love anyone but yourself.”
His face reddens and I see the vein in his neck throb.
“Twila?”
I turn and see my mom standing in the opening between the kitchen and living room.
“I’m okay.” I turn back to my father. “I want you to leave now. I don’t want to see you and I don’t want your money. I can support myself. Please, just go.” Tears stream down my face. I sniff and point to the back door. “Go.”
He stands and looks at my mother. “Nerissa, are you going to talk some sense into her? I make her a generous offer and this is how she acts?”
My mom steps into the kitchen. “I believe she asked you to leave. Please go.”
He shakes his head. “You two are a pair. You’ve made a big mistake, Twila.”
His eyes, steel now, bore through me. But I stand still, firm. I have some of his steel in me too and I will use it now. I will stand strong. No, I take that back. I have nothing of him in me except his chromosomes. It’s my heavenly Father’s strength that sustains me. “If you don’t leave now, I will call 911 and tell them I’ve asked you to leave and you won’t. Go!” I point to the door again.
He hesitates just a few seconds longer, then he slams his hand against the kitchen chair, shoving it into the table. The metal chair hits the edge of the old metal and Formica table and sends it skipping against the floor.
I jump at the clamor.
Then . . . he turns and walks out.
It’s not the first time he’s walked out on me. But it will be the last.
I have forgiven him and I will forgive him again. But I won’t allow him to use me or mistreat me.
Or the Spirit within me.
I know who I am.
As the back door slams, I let out my breath and wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. Then I feel my mother’s arms around me—hugging me—loving me.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “And I’m so proud of you. So proud of your strength, and dignity, and self-respect.”
I lean into her. “I know who I am. You taught me.” I pull back from her and lift up my arm so she can see the words forever inked on my wrist.
“Yes, you reflect His image for all to see.” She pulls me close again. “Twila, I’m so proud of who you are—of who you’ve become. I love you so much.”
I quiet in her arms. The tears stop and peace engulfs me. As she continues to hug me, my stomach rumbles.
She leans back. “Was that your stomach growling?”
I giggle. “Yeah, I’m hungry. Like really hungry.”
She pats me on the back and wipes the tears from her own cheeks. “Well, that’s good news. What would you like? Anything. Name it and I’ll make it.”
; My mouth begins to water at the thought of eating something delicious. But not just eating it . . .
Maybe even enjoying it.
There are no caresses tenderer than your charity, and no object of love is more healthy than your truth, beautiful and luminous beyond all things.
Saint Augustine
Chapter Forty-Seven
Miles
I haven’t seen or spoken to Ellyn since helping her with the dead rat last Sunday. I thought earlier today of calling to say hello, but just as I did on Sunday when she offered to make breakfast for me and invited me to stay for lunch with her staff, I know I need to set and maintain some boundaries with her for my own emotional well-being.
That doesn’t mean I won’t continue our friendship, just that I need to also care for myself in the process. I will be intentional in seeking God. I am willing to sacrifice myself, my heart, if that’s how He leads—but I must know it’s His leading.
Instead, I pick up the phone and call Nerissa and ask her if she’d like to meet for lunch. “I’ll come your way. I have a light caseload today. How about Mendocino Café at noon?”
“Sounds lovely. Perfect timing too.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have something I want to share with you.”
“Great. I’ll see you soon, gal.” I hang up the phone and thank God again for Nerissa. I also resolve that it’s time to find a golfing buddy—before spring if possible.
I arrive at the café a few minutes early and decide I’ll get a table and have a cup of coffee while I wait. I’m shown to a corner table and sit with my back to the window so I can see Nerissa when she comes in. I look at the menu, though I already know what I’ll order. Then I hear a familiar sound.
Laughter.
Ellyn’s.
I look around until I see her. She sits with her back to me—across the table from her is Sabina. I watch their animated conversation for a moment, then get up from the table and walk toward them.
No reason not to say hello to two friends.
Ellyn
“Thanks for meeting me spur of the moment.” Sabina takes a sip of the water the waiter placed in front of her.
“Spur of the moment seems like our best plan. So what’s up? I’m as curious as a cat. And you look like you swallowed the canary.”
Sabina’s eyes shine and I see something new there—something I don’t recognize.
“Who came up with that saying? Do you ever wonder who created some of the idioms we use?”
I don’t take my eyes from her face. “No, I don’t. Would you please tell me what’s going on with you.”
She leans back. She seems so relaxed. “Okay. Well, first I want to apologize. You were right about something—”
“Whoa, hold on. Let me just savor this moment. You’re apologizing and saying I was right about something? This is too good.” I let out an exaggerated sigh and then wait several seconds. “Okay, go ahead.”
Sabina raises one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows. “You better savor the moment because this isn’t likely to ever happen again. You know I’m rarely wrong.”
“Okay, c’mon. Give it to me. What was I right about?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “You were right about the view.”
Her voice has dropped to almost a whisper and I lean forward to hear her. “The view? I was right about the view?”
“Yes.”
“That you avoid it?” This conversation is no longer a laughing matter.
“I did.”
“You did. But . . . you don’t anymore?” Then it strikes me. What I see in her eyes, the expression on her face.
Peace.
For the first time since I met her, she is at peace.
“Sabina, what happened?”
Just as she opens her mouth to tell me, I feel a presence next to me. I look up—and my heart leaps.
Miles. He’s standing right beside me.
And I’m almost knocked over by how happy I am to see him. “Miles! Hello.”
Miles
When Ellyn turns and looks at me she is unguarded. Her face radiates pleasure. Is she happy to see me? Or is it the conversation I’ve interrupted that’s made her so happy? But the gasp she let out when she saw me and the way she said my name . . . I want to believe the reactions are to me. But the hand of caution seems to hold me back. Take it slow, Miles. “Looks like great minds think alike.”
Ellyn’s smile is open and genuine. “Looks like it. Can you join us?”
“Please, join us, Doctor.” Sabina reaches over and pulls out a chair from their table.
“Thank you, but I don’t want to interrupt your conversation. I’m meeting Nerissa.”
“Oh.”
Is that disappointment I hear in Ellyn’s tone?
“Well, thank you again for your help on Sunday. I still can’t believe I couldn’t take care of it myself. And thank you for patching up the wall too. You went above and beyond, Miles.”
She puts her hand on my arm as she speaks.
“Anytime. You know I’m available if you need anything.”
“I’d love to repay you in some way.”
I hold up my hand. “Not necessary.” Ellyn takes her hand off my arm and glances at the floor, then looks back at Sabina. Did my refusal hurt her? Or am I imagining her disappointment? Wistful thinking? Confusion settles in.
Ellyn looks back up at me. “Well, thank you. I really did appreciate it.” But the happiness I read on her face earlier is gone now.
I put my hand on Ellyn’s shoulder, but as natural as it seems for me to touch her, I feel her tense. “I just wanted to say hello, I’ll let you get back to your lunch. Good to see you again, Dr. Jackson.” I smile at Sabina.
“Nice to see you too, Dr. Becker.”
Ellyn raises her eyebrows at our exchange, maybe sensing that Sabina and I know one another better than she realized. Who knows what she’s thinking? I sure don’t.
“Enjoy your lunch.” I walk back to my table, trying not to let my tangled emotions frustrate me.
Why didn’t I chose another restaurant?
As soon as I’m seated again, I see Nerissa come in. I wave and she sees me. Then she sees Ellyn. She stops at their table, and I watch as Ellyn introduces Nerissa to Sabina. They all chat for a few minutes, then Nerissa makes her way to where I’m sitting.
“Hello, my friend.”
I stand and greet her with a brief hug. “Sit here.” I motion to the chair where I was sitting. I’d rather have my back to Ellyn.
We settle in and Nerissa pushes the menu aside and then looks across the table at me. “How are you, Miles?” Her question is sincere, not a pleasantry.
I put my hands, palms down, on the table. “Well, I’m okay. I’ve been better and I’ve been worse. How about you?”
“I’m fine. You’re okay here? With Ellyn?”
I lift my hands from the table and reach for the napkin next to my plate. “Sure. I can’t say seeing her doesn’t affect me, but I’m committed to remaining her friend. I went over and said hello when I saw them here.”
“She looks well. She hasn’t had any problems since her hospitalization?”
“She does look well and no, I saw her briefly on Sunday and she’s fine.”
The look of concern remains in Nerissa’s eyes. She hesitates. “Well . . . good. I’m glad she’s okay. But it’s you I’m worried about.”
I wave off her concern as the waiter comes and takes our orders. I order the steak and Brie melt on a French roll—a favorite when I’m here for lunch. Nerissa orders her usual—the Healing Bowl, soba noodles in miso broth with kale, mushrooms, and tofu. I’m glad that, unlike the Green Giant—that ghastly green juice she claims to like—she’s never asked
me to try the Healing Bowl.
“You said you had something to tell me?”
Nerissa unwraps her flatware from the linen napkin and places the napkin on her lap. “Yes, it’s about Twila.”
“Is she okay?”
Her eyes crease at the corners as she grins. “Yes. Better than okay. I asked her if I could tell you and she said to go ahead. You know her father was here—”
“Was? He’s gone?”
“Yes!”
“Good.”
“He’s gone because Twila told him to leave. She confronted him, and it was such a step of healing for her. Oh, Miles, it was so good for her.”
Nerissa fills me in on the details including Twila’s renewed appetite.
“She’s an amazing little gal.”
“She really is, Miles. I can’t help but think God will use her in powerful ways.”
“No doubt.”
The waiter brings the iced herbal tea Nerissa ordered.
“Thank you for the time you’ve spent with her.”
“No need to thank me. I care for her. And I enjoy her. I was concerned when I saw her on Sunday. Good to know she’s doing better. How about you?”
As Nerissa and I catch up, I start to relax. This is good. Conversation with a friend, but without any underlying currents and confusion. And I am so happy for Twila.
But as I listen to Nerissa talk, one thought nags at the back of my mind . . .
I’d rather have currents and confusion with Ellyn than a calm conversation with anyone else.
Indeed, Lord, to your eyes, the abyss of human consciousness is naked.
Saint Augustine
Chapter Forty-Eight
Ellyn
“That was nice of Miles, to stop by and say hello.”
I look at Sabina, refusing to take the bait. “What was with all the doctor talk?”
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