“We will. Tell him not to worry.” Ashley was amazed that only Peter couldn’t make the initial surprise. “With all our different schedules, it’s amazing so many of us can be together. Dad’s going to flip.”
Brooke’s tone lightened. “I know. I’ve been counting down the days.” Her smile came through the phone line. “The girls, too. They love their papa so much.”
“All the kids are that way. They have the greatest grandpa in the world, and they know it.”
“Exactly.”
Next Ashley called Kari. Her family also was running early. “We’ve been looking forward to this for so long.”
“Us, too.” Ashley double-checked that Kari was bringing the potato salad. It was a recipe the Baxters had gotten from the Flanigans, but it took a lot of work. It was the one thing Ashley knew she wouldn’t have time for.
“Made it last night.” Kari sighed. “Made me think of Mom. She always made everything from scratch.”
Ashley told her how she’d gone to the cemetery that morning and how their mom had been on her heart, too. “I still miss her so much.”
“She should be there today.” Kari’s voice was soft. “Nothing against Elaine.”
“She will be. Remember the letter she wrote to us? She’d be there in Jessie’s smile and Cole’s laughter and Hayley’s determination?” She paused. “She’ll be there.”
“You’re right.” Peace filled Kari’s tone. “See you in a bit. Love you.”
“Love you.” Ashley hung up and dialed Erin.
Only their youngest sister was a wild card on whether they’d all be there at five o’clock. Unexpected traffic could delay them and Heidi Jo sometimes suffered from motion sickness. Yesterday was one of those times. She hadn’t slept well, so they had stopped at a grocery store for crackers to calm her stomach before they got on the road this morning. They were running maybe half an hour late last time Ashley talked to her.
Her sister answered on the first ring. “Good news!” The girls were singing to Jeremy Camp in the background. “We made up the lost time!” Erin sounded thrilled. “We should roll into your house right around five. Definitely before Dad and Elaine get there.”
“Yay!” Ashley could already picture the surprise. Especially with Erin there. Over the last week, their dad might’ve come to expect something was going on. Ashley had probably said more than she should have. Made too many phone calls checking on his timing for the barbecue. But there was no way he expected Erin and Sam and the girls to be there. “Okay, well, drive safe. See you in a few.”
“See you. Love you, Ash.”
The song in the background was Jeremy Camp’s I Still Believe. Ashley could make out the words better now. She raised her voice so Erin could hear her. “Love you, too.” She was touched that even when they were going to see each other so soon Erin made a point to say she loved her. It made her grateful they were going to have a whole week together.
When she was finished making the calls, Ashley checked the guest room. Cole and Devin had made it their project, but Ashley hadn’t looked in on it since they finished. She stood in the doorway and smiled. The bed was made, and everything was neat and tidy. On the table sat a vase with several long-stemmed roses. The boys must’ve clipped them from the garden out back. The one Ashley’s mother had planted so many years ago.
She made a point to thank the boys later. The thoughtful touch of their mother’s roses at the bedside was sure to be appreciated by Erin. Ashley was proud of her sons for thinking of it. Sam and Erin would sleep here, the older girls on the sofas in the TV room and the little ones on cots in Devin’s room. They’d be snug for the week, but it would be great fun. It was all Janessa could talk about, the idea of having girl cousins in the house.
Ashley was about to head outside and check on Landon when she caught the smell of the barbecue. The new scrubber must’ve worked. Ashley laughed quietly, remembering the way Landon had looked covered in grease. Someone had once told her that proof of a healthy marriage was how often a couple laughed together. If that was the case, then she and Landon must be doing well.
A quick trip to the kitchen for a few trays of meat and the barbecue was underway. Cole brought out the buns and he and Devin worked alongside Landon to get the dinner cooked. Ashley returned to the kitchen to take the salads and fixings from the fridge and arrange them on the counter. Janessa helped by finding the paper plates and cups and in minutes the kitchen was ready. She checked the time on her phone and felt the excitement well up inside her. It was ten till five.
Her family would start arriving any minute.
Ten
MARTY COHEN COULDN’T KEEP HIS EYES OPEN.
He only needed to reach Indianapolis before he could finally take a break, finally rest his eyes. That was something most people didn’t understand — the toll truck driving took on a person. He blinked three times and used every muscle in his face to open his eyes wide. Wider than usual so that maybe enough light streaming through the windshield might startle him into a state of alertness.
Deep breaths, Marty. Take deep breaths.
He hadn’t been making his runs as fast as usual. Blame it on his age — he’d be fifty-four in the fall — or on the years he’d spent in the driver’s seat. But whatever the reason, he needed more sleep than usual. The long runs weren’t easy like before.
He glanced at the photo on his dashboard, his wife and two sons and their wives. The picture next to it was of his three grand-babies. Two little girls and a boy. The boy wasn’t quite a year yet. Maybe they were the reason. Marty didn’t enjoy being on the road the way he once had. He’d rather be home with his family — all of them in New Mexico now, just outside Las Cruces.
Frustration simmered deep inside him because he couldn’t quit. He and Margie needed the money, and after this many years, Marty knew nothing else. Only trucking. He leaned hard over the wheel and hit the button on the door to bring the window down. His truck was nice. Something he and the wife were still paying off. A tricked-out exterior and the inside air-conditioned for hot summer runs like this one. His bed was nice, too. A bunk over the driver’s seat.
But last night he hadn’t slept well. The ticking clock didn’t help. Somehow knowing that sleep was limited always made getting rest that much more difficult. With every few breaths he could almost feel the clock taunting him, reminding him that the hours of possible sleep were shrinking fast.
“Come on, Marty. You gotta do this.” He slapped his face. Hard. First one cheek then the other. The trick worked, at least at first. He sat up straighter and gripped the wheel with both hands. Only then did he notice that the traffic on 58 East was heavier than usual.
Where have I been for the past few minutes? A sense of grave alarm worked its way through him. How could he have been driving without really seeing the road? And what did that say about his safety for the stretch between here and Indianapolis? If he were smart, he’d pull over and get some sleep. Never mind that it was only five o’clock and too early to call it a night, and never mind that the markets in Indianapolis were expecting his delivery tonight.
He was carrying potatoes, after all. How important was that compared to safety?
Marty turned up the radio. Country music, that’s what he needed. He made the transition from 58 East to Highway 37 North. He’d pass Bloomington in a few minutes and then he’d have only an hour till the city. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t risk another write-up from his boss. The man’s warning played again in his mind, even as his eyes grew heavy again. “Cohen, you’re losing time.” He had called him into the office in Las Cruces and slid a document across the desk. “I’ve gotta write you up. Time is money in trucking.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do better.”
Now Marty’s promise played in his mind, whispering to him, shouting at him. He turned up the radio and breathed in deep. Elvis was singing, “Love Me Tender.” A little Elvis. Yes, that’s what he needed. The singer’s music took him back to the early days with Margi
e, back when they first fell in love. Love me tender, love me sweet … never let me go … But as the song played, sleep grabbed at him, pulled at him like an unrelenting captor.
No … I can’t fall asleep. I can’t …
He didn’t believe in God, never had. But his sleepiness terrified him so much he almost considered praying. Almost. “Get a grip, Marty. You can do this.” He had no choice, really. He needed another few tricks, a few more ways to keep his mind alert through this last hour. Then he could drop his load and sleep twelve hours straight. If he could get through the next hour he’d be golden.
His eyelids dipped and dragged and for a full two seconds he closed his eyes. But as his head nodded forward he felt himself jerk back awake. What was he doing? He couldn’t fall asleep. His eighteen-wheeler wouldn’t handle a jerk of the wheel.
It could easily roll and cause a major pileup. The thought made him sick to his stomach, but even still his eyelids grew heavy again. Not until he heard the sound of a horn blaring did he realize he’d drifted into the fast lane. He made a quick adjustment and felt his load protest, felt the way the truck nearly didn’t survive the move.
This was insane. He needed to stop and get coffee. A strong cup of iced coffee. Yes, that would do the trick. He glanced at his phone, at the app that told him what gas stations and convenience stores and coffee shops were at the next few exits. He spotted one five miles up the road, the last exit for Bloomington. A Starbucks just off the freeway. He might even get two drinks. No chance he’d fall asleep then.
If he could only last five more miles.
Elvis was lulling him to sleep. He leaned forward to change the channel but at the same time he spotted construction signs in the far distance. Stop and go traffic would be even worse. He needed coffee before the delay.
He blinked, but his eyelids weighed a ton. What was he doing? Suddenly he remembered. He was changing the channel, trying to find anyone but Elvis, anything to keep him from slipping into a dream state. But he couldn’t remember how to work the radio, couldn’t find the strength to lift his right hand.
Was he sick? Having a stroke? Marty squeezed his fingers and felt a full range of sensation. It wasn’t a stroke. But then why was he so tired? He couldn’t keep his thoughts together, could barely remember what he was doing or where he was going or why he was sitting behind the wheel of a semitruck.
Potatoes, right? Something about potatoes. He lifted his brow, using every bit of his strength to open his eyes. But at the same time he felt a dream wash over him. He and his sweet Margie when they were only college freshmen, the way she looked that night at the county fair, the smell of her perfume. A feeling like a warm river swept him away, taking him with it and whisking him to a place where he no longer felt worried or troubled or anxious about anything. A place that beckoned to him the way it did every night, and suddenly he realized what the feeling was.
The feeling was sleep.
ERIN HADN’T COUNTED ON THE TRAFFIC. The city of Bloomington officials had for years discussed the possibility of widening Highway 37, but always the idea was tabled. Not until she saw construction signs ahead did she remember that last year at this time the city voted to finally move ahead with the plans.
“Uggh,” she groaned. The girls were finished singing for now, and they talked quietly among themselves, beyond excited to reach Ashley’s house. Erin squinted at the traffic ahead. “This’ll make us late for sure.”
“Not for sure.” Sam positioned himself in the slow lane. “If it gets too bad I’ll get off and take surface streets.” He patted her hand. “We know the shortcuts.”
“True.” They could get off at the next exit a mile or so down the road and find a faster way to the house. If they could only make it through this last mile.
“Are we almost there?” The question came from Amy Elizabeth. “I can’t wait to see Papa.”
“Me, too, honey.” Erin glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the girls. “You’ve handled the trip so well. All of you. We only have a few more miles.” She looked ahead again. There were brake lights everywhere. “It’s a complete standstill.”
“Maybe you should call.” Sam’s expression was slightly concerned. “Just so they’re not worried.” He checked his watch. “I mean, we’ll be there by five-fifteen if I had to guess. But by then we could arrive at the same time as your dad. Ashley might want to call and delay him somehow.”
“Good idea.” Erin liked the plan. “It’ll all work out.”
She had no sooner said the words when they came to a complete stop. She picked up her cell phone and checked her text messages. No response yet from Naomi Boggs, the girls’ social worker. She tapped the screen a few times and was about to dial Ashley when the air was cut in half by the deafening sound of Sam’s desperate shout. “Nooo!”
For the life of her she couldn’t imagine why he’d be shouting. They were stopped, after all. It wasn’t like someone was cutting them off or creating a dangerous situation. But his shout filled her heart and mind and soul. A shout of warning and danger and horrific bone-chilling fear. His shout became words, a handful of words that consumed Erin and reminded her of a lifetime of joy and pain and sorrow. All in as much time as it took her to breathe in, as much time as it took her to brace herself.
“Nooo!” He screamed this time. “Dear God, help us!”
The girls began to scream, too, and the moment felt suddenly surreal and in slow motion. It occurred to Erin that she should turn around, that whatever the problem it must’ve been coming from behind them. But she didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see the certain expressions of terror on the faces of her daughters. “Jesus … please!” She added her voice to the mix and at the same time she felt the hit. Felt their van crumple like paper beneath the force of it, felt them smash into the car in front of them.
They were being hit by something enormous. Not like a typical accident, no. This was much different. The sound of screeching, twisting metal and the shattering of glass, the sudden cacophony of horrific sounds and blurred images and the sensation of complete devastation was the same as if they’d been hit by a train. The pain was fast and complete, consuming her mind and soul and sucking the life from her. But even more than that was the noise.
The deafening noise.
Erin felt the blood draining from her body, felt herself drifting away until finally, mercifully there was nothing but black.
Nothing at all.
Eleven
ASHLEY WATCHED KARI AND RYAN AND THEIR KIDS PULL INTO the driveway.
“Kari’s here!” She watched Landon bring in another tray of burgers.
“Have Ryan come on back. He can take over for Cole and Devin for the last tray of hotdogs.”
“We don’t mind.” Cole had accompanied Landon inside. “It’s fun.” He looked back at Devin, straggling into the house. “Right. Dev? We can help Dad.”
“Sure.” He grinned, excited to be doing man work, as he liked to call it. “We got this.”
Ashley hurried out to the parking area near the garage just as Kari and Ryan stepped out of the car. Kari opened the back door and helped Jessie and RJ and Annie out.
“I’ve been looking forward to this.” RJ pumped his fists a few times and ran off toward the front steps. He stopped short and looked back, concerned. “Dad … do you need help?”
“No, son.” Ryan laughed. “You’re fine. Go on in.”
Ashley offered to take the vat of potato salad, but Ryan had it before she could help. He nodded with his chin to the backseat. “There’s another bowl in the back. Much smaller. Maybe get that one if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Ashley found the bowl and helped shut the car doors while Kari grabbed a flat of water bottles.
“I thought these would help.” She grinned at Ashley. “Is everyone on time?”
“They said they were.” Just then she saw Luke’s and Dayne’s cars pull into the driveway. “We still have about ten minutes.”
“Good
.” Kari looked relieved. “Dad’s going to be so surprised.”
Ryan was a few steps ahead as they walked up the front steps. “Where’s Erin?”
“She’s close. She said they made up time somewhere. Should be here in a few minutes.” Ashley couldn’t believe they’d pulled this off. Getting all their families together at the same time was an amazing accomplishment.
“Did you hear the sirens?” Ryan stopped at the front door and looked back. “Sounded like a big wreck on the highway.”
“No.” Ashley felt a sinking feeling. “When did you hear them?”
“The whole ride here, practically.” Kari’s smile faded. “Sounded really serious.”
“It could delay Erin and Sam.” Ryan opened the front door with his shoulder. The potato salad dish he was carrying was the size of an ice chest. “I’m sure she’ll call if she gets held up.”
Yes, Ashley told herself. Whatever had happened on the highway or near it, Erin and Sam would certainly call if it delayed them. “They could always take surface streets. Plus there’s all that construction on the highway.” Ashley could’ve kicked herself. Why hadn’t she warned Erin and Sam about the construction? Even on weekends the county’s efforts to widen the road could cause delays up to half an hour.
They walked in and by the time they set the salads on the counter and exchanged hugs the others joined them. Luke and Reagan walked through the door first. Johnny was in Reagan’s arms — even though he was nearly three he looked sleepy and he had his head on Reagan’s shoulder. Tommy and Malin were wide awake. “Let the cousin party begin,” Tommy shouted. “This’ll be the best week of summer.
Coming Home: A Story of Undying Hope Page 10
