Where Petals Fall

by Melissa Foster

  “Sarah?”

  Silence.

  Junie stewed. Brian’s words came back to her, and this time, she acted on them with a harsher tone. She reached up and yanked Sarah’s thumb from her mouth. “Tell Mommy what you need. Say the words. You know the words. You were an early talker. You know the words. Remember the day you wanted to stay at the toy store and I wanted to leave? You were exasperated? You said, ‘Mommy, I’m exasperated!’ You can tell me what you need. I know you can."

  Sarah didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. She just stared at her mother in silence.

  Junie put her hand to her mouth, her hope shattering against her daughter’s silence. You’re not making this better. She will talk when she’s ready to talk. Junie took a deep breath, then asked in a frustrated, stern voice, “Sarah Jane, what on earth is going on with you?”

  “Junie!” Ruth touched her arm.

  “No.” Junie’s body shook as she turned to face her mother. “Brian’s right. This is foolish. She’s got to be doing this for attention.” She turned back to Sarah. “What is it? Are you afraid of Grandpa?”

  Silence.

  “I didn’t think so.” She put her hands on her hips. Sarah withdrew to the safety of Ruth’s side. “Is it me? Are you angry with me and just trying to embarrass me?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ruth spat, then lowered her voice. “We’re in a graveyard, Junie. Don’t you think she might be frightened by that alone?”

  Junie was too annoyed to think rationally about where they stood. She zeroed in on her own inadequacies. “Is it ridiculous, Mom? Maybe it’s not. Maybe she’s sick of having a mother who isn’t as strong or as forgiving as you.”

  Hurt traveled to Ruth’s eyes. “Junie?”

  Junie covered her face in her hands. “If Daddy were here, he’d tell me what to do. He’d take apart what I was seeing with Ellen until it fit some science”—she waved her hands in the air—“something understandable. He’d look in his books and figure out what was wrong with Sarah in about a minute!”

  “Don’t glorify your father, June. He knew about the changes in Sarah—you told him yourself—and he didn’t know what was going on with her any more than the rest of us.” She put her hand protectively on Sarah’s back, drawing her closer to her side. “You need to get ahold of yourself. This”—she waved toward Ralph’s grave—“is hard for all of us. All of us, June, and you can guarantee it’s equally as hard for your daughter and your husband as it is for you. Stop this nonsense and pull yourself together.”

  With that, Ruth took Sarah’s hand and led her back to the car, leaving Junie alone, wallowing in self-pity.

  Junie took a few deep breaths, tucked her shame away, and followed them to the car.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, clicking her seat belt in place.

  “Ice cream.”

  Her mother always knew what to do.

  They sat on the stone wall licking their ice cream cones in silence. Sarah’s ice cream dripped down her hand. She licked it efficiently, then went back to work on the scoop.

  “We were here when Ellen went missing, right?” Junie asked.

  Ruth sighed. “Junie, do you think we need to talk about that right now?”

  “Yes, I do. I want to understand what’s going on, and I can’t do that unless I understand what part of my memory is missing.”

  Ruth drew her eyebrows together.

  “I can’t remember any of it. I remember being here with you, because Daddy didn’t come home that day, and the next day I remember you telling me she was missing, but I don’t remember the days, weeks, or moments around it all.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. You waited for Daddy to take you for ice cream, and when he didn’t come home, I took you.”

  “That’s the only time I remember him not coming home.” Junie tossed her cone into a nearby trash can.

  “There were other times. You were little. You just don’t remember.”

  “Okay, well, I remember you being mad.”

  Ruth ate her ice cream without answering.

  “Is there something more? Something I’m missing?”

  Ruth looked at Sarah, then back at Junie, speaking quietly. “There is a lot that goes on in a marriage, Junie, as you know, and yes, you’re missing things, but not things I care to discuss.”

  Okay, fine. “Anything about Ellen?”

  “And your father? No.” Ruth pursed her lips, then softened. “Ellen went to the library. Brian went looking for her, then Peter did, then the police. No one found her. End of story.”

  “But how can that be the end? People don’t just vanish.”

  “People vanish every day,” Ruth said. “They never found a trace. They questioned Daddy, but that was ridiculous. They questioned all of the neighbors. Poor Susan, she just couldn’t take it anymore. Peter was rooted in his partnership, so he couldn’t move out of state, and he didn’t want to disrupt Brian’s good standing in school.” She shook her head.

  “What?”

  “The golden boy. I love Brian—you know that—but I often wondered if Ellen ran away from home.”

  “That’s ridiculous. She loved Brian.” Junie watched Sarah nibble the last of her cone; then she wiped her hands and face with a napkin.

  “Yes, she did, but she was always in his shadow.” Ruth stood and took a few steps away from Junie, drawing one arm around her middle, the other to the bridge of her nose. When she turned back to Junie, her eyes pleaded for relief.

  Junie lowered her voice, though there was no need. “Is that why Daddy didn’t want me to marry Brian? Because he blamed him for Ellen’s disappearance?” She’d never let Brian know about her father’s one-time, quiet question. Junes, are you sure he’s the one for you, the right family for you? But she’d never forgotten the meaning behind it.

  “I don’t know, Junie. Ellen was always second fiddle to Brian. Peter paid her no attention, even Susan—and I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud—even Susan, though she treated her like she was a cute little girl, bought her dolls, dressed her up when Ellen allowed it, drew comparisons of Brian’s brilliance to Ellen’s childish ways.”

  “She was seven!” Junie fumed.

  “Yes, she was, and we all saw that. But even at seven, Brian showed remarkable intelligence, and they couldn’t help but compare.”

  “So it’s Brian’s fault? How could you not have told me all this before?” Her face flushed.

  “It’s not Brian’s fault. He was also just a child, a smart child. It just was what it was. That’s the thing about life, Junie. It’s not all neat and tidy. What you see and remember as a child isn’t necessarily what you see and recall as an adult. Who knows? Maybe Ellen never felt any of what we saw. Lord knows I could be wrong in this. I mean, a seven-year-old wouldn’t make it far, would she? Especially in this small town.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning, Junie packed the car, determined to set things right with Brian and to make more of a directed effort with Theresa—maybe even complete the damned questionnaire and finally figure out what was going on with Sarah. What her mother had said to her made an impact. What you see and remember as a child isn’t necessarily what you see and recall as an adult. She felt useless as a mother and a wife and felt even worse about leaving Ruth so soon, but Junie worried that if she didn’t work on her marriage, she might not have one to go home to—and that was something that she wasn’t ready for.

  “I love you,” Junie said as she hugged Ruth. “Will you be okay?”

  “Of course. I’m a big girl, and you have to take care of our little girl.” She smiled at Sarah, who was buckled into her car seat. “Besides, I’m never really alone. Mary Margaret and Selma are ten steps away.”

  “I’ll call you, and if you need me to come back, just ask. You know I’ll come.”

  “Go. I’ll be fine. I love you.”

  The house was quiet, with nothing out of place. Brian had obviously not cooked himself dinner the evening befor
e or eaten breakfast that morning. Junie imagined him stopping for a protein bar and a cup of coffee on his race in to work, and her mind wandered to when they were newly married and they’d cherished every moment together. She’d wake early to fix him breakfast, and they’d talk about...what? She couldn’t even remember. It made no difference what they talked about. They were happy. She distinctly remembered the ease in which they lived, as if every moment together was stolen and breathed new and exciting air into their relationship. Sure, Brian had long days when he was on difficult cases, and she had mornings when she’d have to race out the door early to the bakery, but they did so grudgingly, and they’d savored their goodbyes until the last possible second, when they’d reluctantly pull away from each other’s grasp.

  Junie sighed, hoping they could find a way to put the stress of life behind them and make their way back to happier times—even if they were a different type of happy. Navigating the changes in their daughter, and their lives, and forging a united front would be a good start. She called Theresa and scheduled an appointment for later that morning, then called Shane, who assured her that he was fine with handling Bliss for a few more days. He thought she was doing the right thing, focusing on Sarah and Brian, and wished her luck.

  Dr. Theresa Don’s office was filled with colorful photographs of faraway places and littered with toys and stuffed animals. The first time Junie had entered the roomy office, she’d noticed the “did he touch you here” dolls that the other therapist had shown Sarah. Thankfully, Sarah did not have to repeat that line of questioning, as the other therapists had reported that there had been no indication of any physical abuse.

  “Junie, Sarah, how are you?” Theresa’s eyes opened wide, her lips curved in a welcoming smile.

  She is good at this, Junie thought. Sarah was immediately drawn to her.

  Sarah jumped onto the couch, blanket in her fist, thumb in her mouth.

  “I see you’ve brought your blanket today, Sarah. Were you feeling a little uneasy coming to see me?”

  Sarah’s thumb hung from her mouth, the tip of her nail clenched in her teeth. She didn’t answer.

  Theresa’s eyes never left Sarah’s face. “I heard that your grandpa died. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Junie held her breath. Theresa was so direct. Had Junie missed the impact her father’s death had on her daughter?

  Sarah’s eyes welled with tears.

  Shit.

  “It makes you sad, doesn’t it?” Theresa asked.

  A tear slipped down Sarah’s cheek, pulling at Junie’s heart.

  “When someone dies, it’s okay to be sad. It means that you loved that person very much, and I’m sure your grandfather loved you, too.” She reached down to the table and picked up a drawing pad and pen.

  “I heard, Sarah, that you wanted to come home with your daddy a few days ago.”

  Sarah sat stoically. Her eyes shifted from Theresa to her mother and back.

  “Was that because it was too sad for you to be there? Or maybe you worried that Daddy might not come back?” She eyed Junie, as if to indicate that sometimes children make the correlation of losing someone to losing others they loved.

  Theresa drew a sad face on the pad, then drew a face with an O for a mouth and big, open eyes; then she drew a happy face. She showed the pad to Sarah, pointing to each face. “This is sad, this is scared, and this one is happy. Can you circle the face that looks the way you felt? Or maybe you’d like to draw your own face?”

  Sarah didn’t move.

  Theresa put the pen and pad down and turned toward Junie. “Sometimes these things take time. Why don’t we let Sarah play awhile while we talk?”

  Sarah slipped off of the couch and sat among the toys. She kept her thumb in her mouth, blanket in her fist, and made no other movement.

  Theresa and Junie left the room, leaving the door open. Theresa leaned forward, speaking in a quiet tone. “You mentioned that she reacted strongly toward Brian’s father? This is a very difficult question, but do you think there could have been any emotional abuse by him? I realize that there is no indication of physical abuse, but the scars of emotional abuse are not as easily noticed.”

  “What? No, definitely not.” Junie crossed her arms, then remembered therapists saw that as a defensive posture and dropped her arms to her sides, feeling foolish.

  Theresa nodded. “And this wanting to leave with Brian, did Sarah say anything during the time he was gone that indicated she wanted to see him, or missed him?”

  Junie shook her head. “She didn’t say a word. Period.”

  “And how were you, when Brian was leaving? Might Sarah have picked up on any behavior between the two of you that would make her want to be with her father? Sometimes children can become protective if they feel one parent is…berating the other one unnecessarily.”

  “What are you implying? That I’m a mean wife and my daughter had to protect her father?”

  Theresa touched her arm gently. “No, Junie, that’s not what I’m saying at all. Parents argue, and with the death of your father, emotions are heightened. She could have heard you two and mistakenly thought you were upset with Brian.”

  Junie thought about when Brian left. They were arguing about the questionnaire. Great. It’s my fault…again. She looked at Sarah, who hadn’t moved, then sighed. “Yes. We were arguing about the questionnaire that you asked me to fill out.” She bit her lower lip, then said, “I’m sure she heard us. God, I just suck at parenting.”

  “No, you don’t.” Theresa then asked, “Did you fill out the questionnaire?”

  Junie shook her head, feeling like a heel.

  “Do you want to do it now?” Theresa asked.

  Junie laughed, imagining a comical scene. Hey, ever had needles in your eyes? No? Well, how about you try it now, with me! “No, thank you.”

  “Okay, I have another idea. Let’s sit down and talk, just you and me.” Theresa led her to an alcove by the window. She could see Sarah through the open doorway, but Sarah couldn’t hear them.

  “Junie, Sarah feeds off of you and Brian. You are her world. She will thrive when you thrive and she’ll falter when you falter.”

  “So it is my fault.” Great.

  “No, but you and Brian do feed into her feelings at times, as all parents do. So when you and Brian argue—especially about Sarah’s regression—you need to do it out of earshot.”

  Junie nodded.

  “Easier said than done, I know.” Theresa twisted her wedding ring.

  Junie’s stomach ached. She was exhausted and at her wits’ end with regard to Ellen and Sarah. If she didn’t get her worries out, she just might explode. “Theresa, can I ask you something? It’s not about Sarah, so if you need to charge me for this time, that’s okay.”

  “Sure, but I’m not an adult psychiatrist. You know that, right? My specialty is children.”

  “Yes, I know. But right now, you’re all I’ve got.” Junie told her about the images she’d seen and the inner turmoil the images caused her to feel. “I think she’s trying to tell me something, but I don’t know what.”

  “This is pretty far out of my norm, but my gut reactions go a few different ways. Ellen’s disappearance is like the secret never told. You’ve carried the worry of it, suppressed the urge to figure it out, because Brian can’t allow himself to talk about it. Of course it would bubble to the surface with your dad’s passing. I assume this is the only person you’ve lost since her disappearance?”

  “Yes. My mom’s parents were in a car accident when I was young. I never really knew my dad’s parents.”

  Theresa seemed to chew on that for a minute. “With Sarah’s recent regression and your father’s surprise passing, your stable base is threatened—cracked, even, which can lead to lack of sleep and almost a constant state of free-floating anxiety.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly how I feel, but it’s tearing me and Brian apart. He’s acting angry toward Sarah, fed up with me. I don’t blame him, but
he’s such a calm person in general. That’s one of the main things that drew me to him. He could always see things analytically, separating feelings from issues and moving forward in the best possible way. That’s what makes him such a good lawyer. But now it’s like we’re always on edge, and the last time I saw him like this—” Junie’s jaw dropped open. Her hand moved to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

  “What is it?” Theresa asked.

  Junie’s eyes were wide. She glanced quickly at Sarah. “After Ellen disappeared, I tried to go over to her house a few times. My mom had told me not to, but I needed to. I needed to see that she wasn’t there, see it for myself.” She lifted her eyes to meet Theresa’s. “Brian acted this way then. When Ellen was there, he’d hang out and talk to me. He was nice when I came over. But once Ellen disappeared, he’d chase me off. He was mean, yelling at me to go away and not come back. How could I have forgotten that? It hurt so badly at the time.”

  “You didn’t forget it. You repressed it. It must have been too painful for you, so your mind buried it.”

  “Wouldn’t it have come back before we got married? I mean, Ellen was my best friend. Her disappearance was a major event from my youth, my formative years. How could I have forgotten how radically Brian had changed? His personality completely changed. He became mean. I’d say that was pretty significant.”

  “Was it, or was it just a sad and angry brother missing his sibling? Perhaps you were a reminder of what he’d lost?”

  “Then why would he date me? Marry me?” She pressed her hands into her temples. Why hadn’t she thought of that years ago? Had she purposely not gone down that line of thinking? Was she afraid of losing Brian? Had they been living in some warped, make-believe world where they pretended that Ellen hadn’t existed? The thought sickened her. The reality of what seeing her must remind Brian of pained her. When she spoke, her voice was strained. It sounded distant in her own ears. “It must be painful for him to see me every day, don’t you think?” Junie mouthed, Oh my God, and closed her eyes.