What She Left for Me (22 page)

Jana didn’t expect her mother to answer, but she did. The simplicity of the reply chilled Jana to the bone—and for reasons she couldn’t even put her finger on.

“Both.”

Jana picked up her coffee again and drank the entire cup. She poured herself another, this time not even worrying about the cream. She felt very close to understanding something—something crucial. Yet unless her mother was a willing participant in this game, Jana knew the revelation would never come.

She went to the back door again. Taffy and Stanley had come home and were roaming around the grounds together. Taffy was pointing to one thing and then another. Jana knew they would soon come inside and that if she wanted any answers, she would have to ask now.

“Do you know where my father is?”

The question came out in such a low, soft tone that Jana wasn’t positive she’d even asked it aloud.

“He’s dead.” Her mother’s flat, matter-of-fact reply only served to make Jana angrier. Ignoring the couple in the garden, Jana turned back to her mother once again. Eleanor crossed the room to the refrigerator and took out a wrapped platter of chicken breasts.

“Dead?” Jana asked. “For how long?”

“A long, long time.”

“Why did you never tell me? When I asked where he was, you always told me you didn’t know.”

Eleanor shrugged. “For a while, I didn’t know. It was years before I knew the truth.”

“But when you learned it, why didn’t you tell me?”

“To what purpose? Why should I have explained or attempted to explain to a little girl that a man who’d never wanted her in the first place was dead?”

“Why was he so against having a daughter?” Jana always felt her heart break a little more each time her mother mentioned this aspect of the past. How could a father be so cruel as to deny a child based solely on her gender?

“Jana, none of these questions serves any purpose.”

“They serve the purpose of helping me deal with who I am and why I made the choices I made. Remember what you told me when you found out I was marrying Rob and how much older he was than me?”

She shook her head. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“You told me I was looking for a father and that marrying Rob was a big mistake.”

“And it was.”

“Yes, it was,” Jana admitted. “But maybe, just maybe, if you would have talked to me about the past—about my own father—maybe I wouldn’t have made that mistake.”

“See, I told you.” Eleanor took a bottle of herbs off the rack and shook some onto the chicken. “You’re just looking for someone to blame.”

“No, Mother. I’m looking for a way to understand who I am and why I made those choices. My choices. They are my mistakes—my problems. I’m not asking you to take credit or blame, and if that’s what you’re so terrified of, then rest assured it’s not my goal.”

“I’m not afraid of your questions. I simply see that they serve no purpose. Why should I waste my time? You’ve ruined an otherwise perfectly quiet day by pushing me for answers.”

“If you cherish the silence so much, why are you here? Taffy is hardly a quiet person. She’s vivacious and happy. You are neither.”

Eleanor stopped what she was doing and took a deep breath. “She’s getting too old to be alone. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you need her as much as she needs you. You’ve blown your first rule of living.”

Eleanor looked up, but instead of anger, Jana thought her expression registered hurt. “Think what you will.”

“I want to know who my father was and who his family was. I want to know my background—my ancestry. I can’t believe you’d be so selfish as to keep it from me just because you’re afraid that by sharing the truth with me you’ll somehow be changed or wounded further.”

“I would be changed. Everything would be changed . . . everything.” She sounded shaken—almost scared.

“So that’s it? That’s all I ever get? No answers. No understanding. I don’t get to know my father because it would change things for you?”

“Your father was an irrelevant mistake. Nothing more.” Her mother seemed to regain control over her emotions. “The past will only hurt you, Jana. I wonder, will you give the gory details of your husband’s adulterous affair and betrayal to your child? Will you spell out all the facts simply because your daughter or son demands that you do so? Will you explain the hurt—the rejection—the lies?”

Jana’s chest tightened. She felt completely silenced by those few brief questions. There was no way she wanted her child to know the truth and grow up hating her father. But she also didn’t want to lie to the child if she asked questions—if she needed to know the truth. What was the answer? Her mother had chosen one way. Had it been the right one?

****

“Do you suppose they’re done arguing?” Stanley asked. “It seems like it’s quieted down in there.”

Taffy made a face. “I doubt they’ll ever be done arguing. That’s what happens when you build your relationship on lies.”

Stanley joined her at the garden table. “They could be so helpful to each other.”

“They could indeed, but they won’t let it happen. They are so afraid of the way it might feel—the pain it might cause. They never think about the joy or happiness they might know. I tell you, Stanley, it’s like living with two kegs of dynamite. I’m just waiting for one or the other to go off.”

“Here you are,” Jana said as she came around the corner. “I saw you in the garden earlier.”

Taffy smiled. “We had the most glorious drive. You really should have come with us.”

“I probably should have. Mother and I had a bad time together.” Jana looked away. “Well, it was good and bad.” She looked at Stanley and immediately apologized. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be airing dirty laundry, as Taffy says.”

Stanley laughed. “Well, it’s not the most efficient way to clean it, but at least an airing helps to blow off some of the dirt.”

Taffy motioned to a chair. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you fought about this time.”

Jana glanced back at the house, then sat down and looked to Taffy. “Mom told me a little bit about her childhood—growing up in a hippie commune.”

“Well, that’s something,” Taffy said, looking to Stanley. “She’s never talked about that with anyone but me, and that was many years ago. I’d say that’s a major breakthrough that should be celebrated.”

“I thought so too, but Mother uses it to point out that it only served to stir up more questions. When I questioned her about the past and asked for more answers, she got mad. She told me that it wasn’t important—that it could only hurt me. I know there’s some truth in what she says, but frankly, I feel like if I could just deal with it once and for all, it would hurt me less in the long run.”

“We’ll have to keep praying that she finds the strength to share it,” Taffy said thoughtfully. “I have a feeling, however, that God has brought you two together for this very purpose.”

Jana frowned and looked at her hands. “I don’t think God has anything to do with this.”

“Well, that’s the way pagans usually feel,” Taffy quipped.

Jana’s head shot up. “I’m not a pagan.”

Taffy laughed. “No, you’re not. So stop acting like one.”

Jana seemed to consider this a moment. “I just don’t think I understand God any better than I do my mother.”

“Are you trying to understand Him?”

“What do you mean?”

Taffy cocked her head to one side. “Are you reading His Word? Are you praying for insight?”

Jana lowered her head again. “Well . . . not exactly.”

“Then why get mad that you don’t understand? Quite frankly, there’s a lot I don’t understand, but the Bible has taught me that sometimes it’s all about walking in faith. That I don’t necessarily get to know the answers.”

“So I might never understand why Rob and Mom have done the things they’ve done. Is that it? If it is, what comfort is there in that?”

“None,” Taffy said solidly. “Why should there be comfort in anything of this earth? Comfort is found in the Lord alone—not in earthly understandings or human relationships. Oh, of course we find comfort of sorts in our relationships, but it’s not lasting. People die.”

“Mom said that her father told her she should never need anyone. That seems to be a philosophy she’s taken to heart.”

“Excuse me for saying it, but this world is full of all sorts of false theologies and philosophies,” Stanley threw in.

“Stanley’s right. The world would tell you that there are many ways to happiness—to peace of mind—to eternal life. But the Bible says there is only one. One way.”

“Jesus,” Jana whispered. “I remember that verse in John that says, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life.’ ”

“Exactly. If you can’t find your way through all of this, remember that verse. If you think the truth is obscured and you feel desperate for it, remember that verse. When you feel like your life is over, remember that verse,” Taffy said, reaching out to take hold of Jana’s hands. “Jana, I really don’t think you are looking for earthly understanding as much as you are spiritual . . . heavenly understanding.”

Twenty

“We’re heading off now,” Taffy called to Jana.

Jana emerged from the kitchen, where she’d been putting away dishes from the dishwasher. “How long will it take for you to get to Missoula?”

“Only a couple of hours,” Taffy replied. “Unless your mother drives like a pastor.”

Jana looked at her great-aunt oddly. “What in the world do you mean?”

Taffy laughed. “Every pastor I’ve ever ridden with—anywhere—went well over the speed limit. I figure it’s because they’re prayed up and feel confident of the situation. Either that or they figure to scare their passengers into salvation.”

Jana laughed. “Rob drove fast too.” The memory sobered her. She sighed. “Well, I wish I felt more like going,” she said, rubbing her abdomen. Up until that morning she’d fully planned to make the trip. “I’m afraid given the way I feel, it would be a mistake. I’m just worn out today and a little bit on the green side. I thought I was past the morning sickness.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” Taffy questioned. “We could put this off for a couple of days.”

“I’m fine; I’m not disabled—just pregnant.” Jana hoped Taffy wouldn’t cancel her trip.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Taffy looked at her as if trying to size up the situation.

“I’ll be great. Go on without me.”

Taffy nodded. “You rest and enjoy the day. Don’t worry about fixing any supper. We’ll be back around eight or nine tonight, so I’m sure we’ll eat in town. I have your list of things and your sizes. And I have lots of party shopping to do.”

The twenty-fourth of July was Taffy’s eightieth birthday, and she was throwing herself a party. Eleanor thought it scandalous and chided her aunt for not allowing her and Jana to organize the celebration. But Taffy would not relent.

“Who better to throw me a birthday party than me?” she had said.

“What are you planning for us?” Jana asked, sizing up her great-aunt. Taffy had dressed for the shopping trip in an emerald-green pantsuit with a wild, almost psychedelic, patterned blouse.

“Oh, we’ll have such fun. It’ll all be outside, of course,” Taffy began. “We’ll invite all of the neighborhood, and I’m going to have the dinner catered.”

“There’s going to be a dinner?” Jana asked.

“Oh yes. A dinner, a dance . . . a regular whirling dervish.” Her aunt laughed in great amusement. “And a photographer to take pictures so that I might remember it all in the years to come. One does not turn eighty every day, after all.”

“It sounds like a lot of fun,” Jana admitted.

“It sounds like a lot of work,” her mother added as she stepped into the room.

“Oh, pshaw. I’m hiring most of it done,” Taffy declared. “You won’t have to weary yourself with it.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Eleanor replied. “It just seems a bit out of control.”

Taffy grinned and winked at Jana. “Sometimes we have to be a bit out of control. But only a bit. We’ll still be very sensible. I haven’t completely lost my faculties, even though you think I have.”

“I have never said any such thing,” Eleanor said rather indignantly.

“Well, be that as it may, we need to get started or we might as well spend the night in Missoula. I want time to eat out—especially at the Montana Club. No sense going to Missoula if you can’t eat there.”

Jana thought Taffy had a wonderful perspective on life. Even Jana’s mother never managed to get the best of the older woman. Taffy had a flare for living and a zest for life and mankind that Jana had never known.
Not once in my life,
Jana thought,
have I ever known her kind of enthusiasm.

She watched them leave, Eleanor chiding Taffy about her shoes, questioning whether they’d be good for walking long distances. Jana thought the silver sandals trimmed in beadwork were charming, but for once she wondered if her mother was right about her concerns.

Taffy waved Eleanor off and got into the car without another word. Jana smiled. “I want to grow up to be just like you, Taffy.”