What She Left for Me (30 page)

Eleanor stared at the couple in dumbfounded silence. She looked to her mother and then to her father. His face said it all. He had lied. He had betrayed her. What he’d done wasn’t right.

How could he have done that to her? He said it was a good thing, a right thing. He’d made her feel special—wanted.

“You said it was all right,” Eleanor murmured.

“Of course he said it was all right,” her mother countered. “That’s so he could have his way—do his thing. Well, you’re sick, Allan. Sick!”

Eleanor looked at her father, desperate for answers. Was her mother right? Was this why they couldn’t tell her about it—or anyone else? It was all so clear now. Eleanor felt so stupid. But he’d said it was all right, that this was how people learned, this was how they showed love for each other.

“Ellie, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t!” she said, holding up her hands. “Don’t say anything more. I hate you. I hate you both! I wish you were dead!”

She ran from the room, stumbling through the house and into the crisp night air. Why had he lied to her? Confusion overwhelmed her—blinded her. Eleanor struggled to find her way to her hiding place in the dark.

“I’m going to leave here forever,” she told herself.

She hid herself away, terrified of the night and being alone, but more terrified of the truth she’d just learned. Her mother’s face had been so full of rage and hate. Her father, on the other hand, had held a look of regret that absolutely consumed Eleanor.

Why? Why had he done this to her? She loved him and wanted him to be pleased with her—to love her back. Now she had nothing. Nothing.

Eleanor awoke to an eerie silence in the morning. She couldn’t remember at first where she was, and then it all came back to her. The ugliness of it all. She tried not to think about what had happened as she gathered her things. She wanted to slip back into the house and get the rest of her stuff, and then she planned to run as far away from this place as was humanly possible.

She slipped through the woods and headed around the other dilapidated buildings, trying hard to remain quiet. She heard sounds coming from somewhere past her house, and Eleanor felt certain it would help to keep her movements unseen. She hurried toward her house, sneaking in the back door as silent as a mouse. She’d nearly made it to her room when someone took hold of her.

“Are you Eleanor?”

It was a police officer. The man was huge, with glaring brown eyes. She wanted to say no, but she feared what might happen if she lied to this bear of a man.

“Yes.”

“Hey, Sarge! We found her!”

He pulled Eleanor along with him, causing her to drop the few things she held. Another uniformed officer appeared. “You’re going to have to come with us.”

“Why? Where’s my mom and dad?” She looked around the house and realized her family wasn’t there. “Where are my brothers?”

The man called Sarge knelt down. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t know how to tell you this. Something bad has happened. Your mom is dead. She called us to tell us about some trouble here with your dad.” He looked at her knowingly, and Eleanor wanted to die. “Apparently your mom shot up and—”

“Where’s my dad?” Her voice trembled, and she couldn’t hide her fear. Somehow she’d always known that her mother would overdose one time too many.

“We don’t know. We were hoping you could tell us.”

She shook her head. “I ran away last night. I don’t know.” The truth spilled from her against her will.

“It’s all right. We’re going to take care of you and your brothers now. No one will ever hurt you again.”

“I don’t believe you,” she cried. “I’ll never believe anybody again.” Her father had once told her there were worse things than death. At least he was right on that count. Death would have been much simpler in Eleanor’s estimation. Maybe her mother had the right idea after all.

****

Eleanor didn’t realize she was crying until she pushed the memories aside and opened her eyes. She was sitting on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Getting up quickly, she hurried to her room. How long had she been there? Had anyone seen her? Surely not, or they would have tried to help her. But there was no help for her.

Eleanor had tried so hard not to remember that awful time in her life. Her father’s betrayal had nearly consumed her. Having been raised in the commune, Eleanor had seen no reason to think her father’s attentions were out of line. Worse still—and the source of the guilt that she’d been forced to live with—she’d enjoyed the things he’d done to her.

She buried her face in her hands.
Jana wants to know about the past, but how could I ever explain this? How could I ever hope for her to understand that I not only was molested, but I actually sought it out—I enjoyed myself? What kind of horrible perverted person am I?

Eleanor had lived with this guilt all of her adult life. Of course, she hated the man now—hated him for his lies and manipulation. Hated him even more for the false sense of love he’d given her. But when she was fourteen, she’d thought she was special. Then she’d awakened to find herself a hideous abomination—a perversion of all that was good and holy.

Twenty-seven

“I have an appointment this morning,” Eleanor announced as she joined Taffy and Jana at breakfast. She didn’t bother to eat but took a cup and poured herself some coffee.

“I’m also heading out,” Taffy said. “Stanley and I are going to have devotions, then go for our five-mile walk. After that, we’ll probably have lunch at the café in town, so don’t plan on seeing me until later.”

Jana felt rather deserted but said nothing. She’d been feeling more moody as the pregnancy lengthened. As Thanksgiving approached, Jana knew the time before her baby’s arrival was growing short.
But I still haven’t worked through everything,
she thought.
I’m not ready to have this baby . . . to be a mother.

She didn’t know what to do with the fears that had crept in over the last few weeks. She’d busied herself with the nursery, but even that hadn’t helped. Instead, it only emphasized how time was slipping away from her.

“Do you need me to pick up anything?” Eleanor asked.

Taffy shook her head. “No, but next week we need to head into Missoula. I want to pick up some things for Thanksgiving, and I don’t want to wait until the last minute. Besides, Jana is supposed to make a visit to the hospital and check out everything prior to the baby’s birth. I think it might be nice if we planned an overnight trip and really enjoyed ourselves.”

Jana forced a smile. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

“Well, good,” Taffy declared, getting to her feet. “It’s settled, then. Eleanor, you figure out what days would suit us best.”

“All right.” Her mother put her cup aside. “I need to get going. I’m running behind.”

Jana watched the house empty, almost feeling like her mom and great-aunt were rats deserting a sinking ship. She wondered if her mood had caused them to flee. Everyone seemed to be consumed by her own busyness lately.

“What am I going to do with myself?” she questioned, gathering her breakfast dishes.

She cleaned up the small mess that remained in the kitchen and popped all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. There wasn’t enough for a load, however, so Jana left them for later and decided to wash some of the windows. It was something she could do slowly and without too much difficulty.

The cool November air felt refreshing as Jana opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. It revived her, but the feeling quickly faded. She looked around her, noting the dull colors of winter. She wished it would snow—at least then the ground would be covered in white. As it was now, everything appeared dead . . . just as Jana felt inside.

Jana began washing the outside of the living room window, contemplating Kerry and Rob. The thought of them together—of them planning to leave, of Rob being killed—was never far from Jana’s reflections.

I don’t know what to do anymore. Taffy says I must deal with this, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to make it right. Instead I just ponder the same things over and over and get nowhere. What do I do with these thoughts, these memories? How do I actually “deal” with my life?

“Good morning.”

Jana turned to find Taffy’s pastor, Kevin Clifford, had ridden over on a bicycle. It seemed like the kind of thing he’d do, Jana thought. He dismounted and set the kickstand. “Is Taffy home this morning?”

“No, I’m sorry, you just missed her. She was going to have devotions with Stanley next door, then take a long walk. You might still catch her.”

Kevin nodded. “I’ll check there, and if that fails, I’ll ride the path they always take.”

“You’re familiar with where my great-aunt walks?” It seemed odd to Jana.

“Well, this is a pretty small town. There aren’t that many options,” he said with a grin.

She thought him a pleasant enough man, but she would not allow a friendship with Kevin Clifford. She couldn’t get past the fact that he was a pastor, especially when she was still struggling with her understanding of God.

She dunked her sponge in the soapy water. “I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“So how are you doing?” He climbed up the steps and stood on the porch just a few feet away.

Jana felt a surge of apprehension. “I’m fine.”

“Care to talk with me for a few?”

“I really should wash the windows,” she said, hoping the excuse would send him on his way.

“I could help you. I’m pretty good at washing windows. The church has twenty-four of them. You tend to get good at things like that when so much repetition is involved. You might even say I’m the window-washing king of Lomara.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “No. I don’t need help, but thanks for the offer. Coming from a king, that means a lot.” He chuckled, but then an awkward silence fell between them. Jana looked at the dripping sponge. The chill of the November air, combined with the dampness of the sponge, made her hands feel nearly numb from cold. She supposed this wasn’t the best job for the day, but Taffy had been talking about doing it all week, and Jana had wanted to surprise her.

“You know, I’m not going to hit you over the head with a Bible,” Kevin finally said.

Jana dropped the sponge in the bucket. “Maybe you should.” Her comment surprised her. Was she challenging him to get spiritual with her—to help her understand where God was in all of this?

“I think you’d feel better if you could let go some of your frustration and ask the questions that are bugging you.”

She looked at him oddly. “What questions?”

He shrugged and leaned back against the porch post. “Well, for starters, where was God in all of this? Why didn’t He keep bad things from happening?”

“So where was He? Why didn’t He?” she countered in a rather sarcastic tone.

Kevin gave her a hint of a smile. “Do you really want to talk about this or are you just humoring me?”

Jana appreciated his candor and his concern. “Come on inside. I have some coffee on, and I’d like to warm up.”

He nodded and opened the door for her. “After you.”

Jana left him in the living room, then went to pour them both a cup. “Do you take cream or sugar?” she called from the kitchen. She poured cream into her own cup and awaited his answer.

“One spoonful of sugar. Thanks.”

She brought the mugs with her and handed him one. “I’m not sure where to begin,” she said, sitting down. “I wasn’t expecting this, but I guess if I’m honest, I’ll admit that I need it.”

He took a sip and nodded. “We all need to talk to someone from time to time. Taffy’s been concerned about you. She never speaks of the details, of course. She’s very protective of you and your situation.”

“My situation,” Jana said with a laugh. “That’s what it is all right. It’s a situation, and I don’t know how to make it go away.”

“What exactly are you wishing would go away?”

Jana thought about that for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess the memories—the pain. I feel like I’m grieving for two different things. My marriage and my husband. Does that make any sense?”

“Sure. You lost him when he left you. That was bad enough, but before you could deal with that, he’s murdered.”

She shook her head. “None of it makes sense to me. I feel guilty for feeling a loss—for calling myself a widow. But I feel just as guilty for not realizing my husband was unhappy enough to leave me. It’s confusing at best.”

“Life usually has those moments, but you can’t let Satan blind you to the truth. God hasn’t abandoned you. He said in the Word that He’d never leave you nor forsake you. Satan wants to convince you that God’s a liar—because Satan is a liar.”

Jana considered the words carefully. “When I accepted Christ as my Savior, I did so because Rob convinced me that Jesus would be the answer to all my problems. But now . . .” She couldn’t figure out how she wanted to say what was in her heart. She was desperately afraid that the answer would condemn her in some way.

“But now Rob is gone, and you’re not sure who Jesus is without Rob to base it on?”