She lifted her gaze through the hazy sky toward upper Michigan. Interstate 75 made an almost direct route from Detroit to Petoskey, north up the center of the state. It took between four and five hours to reach Petoskey from Detroit, but as long as it wasn’t snowing, the Barretts had never minded the drive. The countryside was quietly rugged with deep green pastures, towering Ponderosa pines, and shimmering picturesque lakes.
Years earlier when her family had made the drive, her father would comment on the lush groves of pine trees or the endless sea of wild grass or the glassy lakes along the way. His favorite part of the drive was just before they reached home, as Highway 31 curved along Lake Michigan and dipped down along the water for a breathtaking view of Little Traverse Bay and the Petoskey shoreline.
“Behold,” he would say, sweeping his arm grandly across his body. “The beautiful bay.”
The pilot lowered the landing gear and Ellen put her seat in an upright position. She had flown into this airport a dozen times, and each time her father had been waiting when she got off the plane. Even once when she flew for business and had access to a rental car, her father insisted on meeting her.
“If a father can’t meet his daughter at the airport, then things have gotten pretty sad,” he’d say with a smile.
“I don’t know, Dad, it’s a long drive.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ellen. It’s not a problem. I enjoy it.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, wishing with all her heart that he could be there now, at the end of the ramp, peering over the heads of strangers as he searched for her face. Just one more time.
The three-hour flight from Phoenix to Detroit was relatively easy for Jane, despite the fact that she had the children with her. Troy had a sales convention in Los Angeles and would join her Friday morning, the day before the funeral. Jane was used to Troy’s traveling and she never even considered asking him to cancel the convention and spend the week with her in Petoskey. She and her siblings would have to choose a casket, plan the service, and help their mother survive until the funeral. Troy would have only been in the way.
Jane glanced at her pretty, blond children sleeping in the row beside her. She could picture having more babies. She was patient and fair and had long since learned the art of listening to her little ones.
“Mommy, know what?” one of the children would ask.
Jane would stoop down and look the child in the eyes as if there was nothing in the world more important than the words he was about to say “What is it, honey?”
The child would smile and proceed with a story while Jane remained captivated until he was done. Her response was something she had learned in her weekly care group at Verde Valley Christian Church. Growing Kids God’s Way, the program was called. Through it she and Troy had learned dozens of parenting skills. Listening to a child, they had agreed, was often the most effective way a parent could communicate love. More than anything, Jane and Troy wanted their children to feel loved.
She smiled at them now, absently running her hand across each of their three foreheads. They would miss Papa, as they called him. He had been a hands-on grandfather. He bounced them on his knee, read them bedtime stories, and played silly games with them. It had been during their recent visits, when her father would spend time loving her children, that Jane had actually felt close to him. There were no Ellens in John Barrett’s life once he became a grandfather.
As the plane landed, Jane wondered how Ellen was handling their father’s death. She was probably devastated. For a moment, Jane felt guilty for being gruff with her on the telephone. There seemed no way to bridge the gap that lay between them.
She ran a hand through her short-cropped blond hair and silently asked God to help her get through the coming week. She was not looking forward to seeing Ellen so upset. It would only make Jane more aware of the relationship she had never shared with their father.
The plane landed gracefully, gliding down the runway and turning toward the proper terminal. Jane glanced at her watch. Ellen’s plane would have already landed, and she and Megan were probably comforting each other.
Jane stared out the window of the plane, her teeth clenched. Just as well that I’m arriving a few minutes later.
Still wearing her round-rimmed sunglasses, Ellen exited the plane, her leather bag slung over one shoulder. She searched the crowd for Megan and finally spotted her waving, working her way through the crowd.
“Ellen!” Megan’s arms were around Ellen’s neck and her eyes stung with tears. Ellen hugged her sister tightly. They stayed that way for a while, unaware of the people streaming past them.
“He usually meets me at the airport and—” Ellen’s voice broke. “He should be here, Megan. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“He had a good life, Ellen, we have to remember that.” Megan was crying, too, and she kept her hands on Ellen’s shoulders as she pulled away and looked intently at her. “He loved us with all his heart.”
Ellen nodded. “I know,” she sniffed. “But I miss him so bad it hurts.”
“Me, too.” Megan handed her a tissue and picked up her bag. “Come on. We have to meet Jane in a few minutes.”
Jane had taken the same airline and would arrive just two gates away.
“You look good, Megan,” Ellen glanced at her sister and thought how much more attractive she was than …before. Megan was thin and curvy, with long legs that had finally stopped growing when she reached five-foot-ten. She wore her dark blond hair much like Ellen’s: cropped to her shoulders and fashionably styled. Ellen smiled as she noted the masculine glances being directed at the two of them. Despite their tear-stained faces, they made a striking pair.
“How’s Mom doing?” Ellen asked as they found seats near the gate where Jane would be arriving. “I’ve talked to her ten times since Friday but I can’t really tell without seeing her.”
Megan nodded. “She’s handling it. Aunt Mary’s been over a lot cooking and spending time with her. Mom’s been expecting this for a long time, you know.”
“We all have. I used to think of Dad as being terminally ill so that it would be easier when he died.”
“Did it help?”
“Not at all. There’s no way to be ready for news like this.”
“I knew his health wasn’t good, but I thought he’d live another twenty years. Wishful thinking I guess.”
“Remember when he lost his job and left for that week?” Ellen adjusted her sunglasses.
“Yeah. Vaguely.” Megan leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her stomach. “That was a bad time.”
“After that he was never the same.”
“Healthwise, you mean?”
“Everything. But especially his health. Even after he got another job there was one problem after another.”
“The blood clots.”
“Blood clots in the lungs, blood clots in the heart, blood clots in the legs. Phlebitis put him in the hospital every ten months until he had his veins stripped. Then there was the high blood pressure, and by then he was probably a hundred pounds overweight.”
Megan nodded. “At least.” She paused a moment. “He was a tall man, but that’s too much for anyone.”
“I remember taking a health class in college and the professor told us the warning signs for a heart attack. Male, over forty, obese, smoker, high blood pressure, stress, diabetes. When Dad was diagnosed with diabetes four years ago, he was like a loaded gun ready to go off. It was just a matter of time.”
Megan sighed. “I know. But he defied the odds for so long I kept thinking he’d get one more chance. Even when I got the call at work that he’d had the heart attack I thought he’d be okay.”
Ellen shallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Me, too. Just like last year when he had the bypass surgery. Remember when he had the angiogram to see how badly blocked his arteries were?”
Megan nodded. “I was there. They had him laid out on this cold, steel table with technicians and doc
tors buzzing around doing the test and putting nitroglycerin under his tongue. ‘His heart’s not gonna make it if we don’t do surgery right away’ That’s what the doctor said.”
Megan shook her head, and Ellen reached out to take her sister’s hand.
Drawing a steadying breath, Megan went on. “I remember looking at this huge screen where Dad’s heart was on display for everyone to analyze. You know what I thought? With all their technology those people didn’t know a thing about Dad’s heart. He was more than another heart patient and I wanted to tell them so. For some reason that scene always stays with me.”
“I didn’t think he’d live through the surgery.” Ellen recalled her fear that day. “But when he did I guess I thought he was finished with heart trouble.”
“I know I was sure he’d die on the operating table,” Megan admitted. “We all sat there in that waiting room crying and thinking we’d never see him again.”
Ellen sniffed and sat straighter in the padded airport chair. “At least we got another year, right?”
“But I wanted ten years. Twenty—” Megan’s voice broke again. “I wanted him to walk me down the aisle when I get married some day. Like he did with you and Jane and Amy.”
“I know.” Ellen squeezed her hand. “Me, too.”
They were silent then as Jane’s plane pulled into position and passengers began streaming off. Ellen and Megan stood up and searched for their sister and the children.
She appeared carrying baby Kyle and holding three-year-old Kala’s hand. Koley walked along beside them, handsome in a pair of shorts and an Arizona tank top. Megan waved, and Jane and the children headed toward them.
“How was your flight?” Megan hugged Jane and bent over to tousle the children’s hair.
Jane set several bags down and took a deep breath. “Good, actually. The kids slept the whole way.”
Ellen moved closer and hugged Jane. “You doing all right?”
Jane returned the hug, but Ellen didn’t miss that she seemed slightly stiff. As she pulled away Jane smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not easy but I’m surviving. You guys okay?”
Ellen nodded, and Megan began crying again. She put an arm around each of her sisters. “We have to be there for each other now that he’s gone.”
Ellen said nothing but noticed that Jane seemed to ignore Megan’s statement as she pulled her children close and struggled to pick up her bags.
“Let’s get the luggage and get home,” Jane said. Her eyes were cool and dry. “It’s a long drive, and I’m sure Mom needs us.”
They collected their bags and returned to Megan’s car. The children were buckled into the backseat so the adults could share the front and catch up on the latest details.
“So, what happened?” Jane asked when they were all in the car. “Was there any warning?”
Megan shook her head, looking over her shoulder as she backed out of the parking space and merged with the airport traffic. “He seemed perfectly normal the day before. In fact, I got home from work early Thursday and spent an hour telling him about all the personality conflicts at the office. He was a little sleepy, but other than that he was fine.”
Ellen, too, wondered what her father’s last days were like. Her mother had been too distraught to talk about anything more than the bare details, and Ellen was hungry for more information.
“No chest pain?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Megan steered the car out of the airport and west onto Interstate 94. “Then on Friday morning he was supposed to play golf with Aaron but he was too tired. After breakfast he fell asleep in his old easy chair. When he got up and walked down the hallway to take a shower, he collapsed.”
“Who was home?” Jane turned around and gave the baby a pacifier. The other children had fallen asleep.
“Just Mom. She heard him fall and knew right away that he’d had a heart attack. She called an ambulance and tried to wake him up, but it was too late.”
Ellen felt the tears again as she pictured the scene. She was thankful she hadn’t been there.
“How long did it take the paramedics to arrive?”
“Not long.” Megan kept her eyes on the road as she talked. “Mom tried to do CPR after she called for help, but on a man Dad’s size it’s pretty hard. He was already dead when the ambulance got there.”
“It wasn’t up to Mom to do CPR. That’s the paramedics’ job. They should have at least tried.” Jane crossed her arms and looked suddenly angry. “People can be brought back from that point, you know.”
“Jane.” Ellen turned so she could see her sister plainly. “His heart quit. There wasn’t much they could do about that.”
Jane’s eyes were hard. “You don’t know everything, Ellen. I worked in the medical field and I know for a fact there are things they can do even after a person’s heart has stopped.”
“You were a dental hygienist, Jane. Most people would not consider that ‘working in the medical field.’ It’s not like you were a nurse.”
“I know more about medical issues than you do, okay?” Jane sat stiffly between her two sisters and snorted angrily.
Ellen wanted to argue, to force the issue, but instead she just drew a calming breath. “Well, either way, he’s gone.” She leaned forward looking past Jane to Megan. “He didn’t have any symptoms or anything?”
“His neck had been bothering him, but everyone said that was just muscle tension. Dad thought he’d injured it playing golf.”
“Didn’t his neck hurt right before the bypass surgery?” Ellen asked.
“That’s what I said. But the doctors swore the neck pain had nothing to do with the heart.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Well, like you said, Megan, they didn’t know anything about Dad’s heart.” Ellen’s voice was noticeably softer. “Only we know what kind of heart he really had.”
“Here we go,” Jane muttered.
Ellen turned toward her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, tell me. What do you mean, ‘Here we go’?”
Jane looked like it was all she could do to tolerate Ellen. “It’s just that you’re so dramatic, Ellen. The rest of us have been expecting Dad’s death for years. You can’t tell me it caught you by surprise.”
Heat flooded Ellen’s face, and she drew back as if she’d been slapped. “No, I’m not surprised. I’m hurt. And I want to remember who he was as a person and not just his health problems.”
Jane’s lips thinned. “You’re right. Sorry for bringing it up.” She looked straight ahead, and Ellen exchanged a quick look with Megan.
Ellen changed the subject, “Anyway, what are the plans so far for the funeral?”
“Nothing, really. Mom’s waiting until we’re all together so we can decide what to do.”
Ellen leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. An hour passed in silence.
“Megan, when was the last time you talked to him?” Ellen finally asked. She remembered her last words with her father. Surely her sisters and brother did as well.
“It was Thursday night. He was watching TV with Mom and me, and I had to be up early in the morning for work. I kissed him good night just like I would any other time, and he smiled at me. You know that smile where you can see that he loves you and he’s proud of you?”
Jane looked away.
“Yeah.” Ellen smiled and nodded. Her eyes glistened with fresh tears.
Megan’s voice was soft. “It was that smile. ‘I love you, honey,’ he told me. I told him I loved him, too. And then I drove home to my apartment and went to bed. That was the last time I saw him.”
Ellen squeezed her eyes shut and hugged herself tightly. She did not regret moving to Miami, but she would have given anything to have been there that night. She could picture her family, watching television and swapping commentaries on the program. What would she have said if she’d been there and known it was his last night?
“How ’bout you? Do you remember th
e last time you talked to him?” Megan switched lanes and then looked questioningly at Ellen.
Ellen nodded. She wiped at her tears and struggled to speak. “It was Wednesday I was working on this murder case and I thought I had it figured out before the police. I called and told him the details. He listened and asked questions, like he always does. Then I asked him how he was feeling and he said he was fine. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health not too long ago and he and Aaron were going to try and get back into golf so he could lose some weight.”
“Same old story.” Megan smiled.
Ellen tossed a quick glance at Jane. She didn’t seem to be listening to their conversation. Instead she stared blankly at the road before them. Ellen shifted restlessly, wondering if her sister was aware of the uncomfortable feeling her silence was causing. She turned back to Megan.
“Same old story, all right. He even said he had picked a date toward the end of the year when he was going to stop smoking …”
“Again.” Megan finished.
“Again.” Ellen sniffed, grinning sadly at the memory. Their father had tried to stop smoking so many times it had become something of a hobby. After his bypass surgery he refrained for several months, but once he started up again his children refused to believe he would ever stop.
“Anyway, he seemed upbeat, and we talked maybe thirty minutes. Then he told me to keep up the good work and send him the article when it ran in the paper. I usually send him copies of my big stories, so I told him I would. He told me he loved me and that he was proud of me for my work on the paper—” Ellen’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat, and went on. “I told him I loved him, too, and that was the end of it. I never found out the information I needed and I was going to call him Friday to see if he had any ideas. A lot of times I would call and pick his brain. Sometimes he helped me find a lead when nothing else worked.” She shrugged. “You know the rest. By Friday night it was too late.”
Where Yesterday Lives Page 11
