Inevitable Sentences

by Tekla Dennison Miller

  “You’re right. I’ve got to let go of all that.” Celeste forced a smile. “Still, the motherly side of me wants only the best for her, even if she did disappoint me. Even if she did deeply hurt me. She really is a good person.” Celeste knew Priscilla had acted out of panic. “She couldn’t have guessed how Chad’s escape would turn out.”

  “She’s a psychologist. She should have had some idea about how Chad would behave.” Max showed no sympathy for the woman who nearly had Celeste murdered.

  “Yes. She should have,” Celeste said pensively. “Yet we don’t always have clear insight into someone’s motives and conduct.” She thought of herself the night she killed Chad. “We are all capable of surprising ourselves.”

  MAX PULLED THE CAR onto the driveway and parked beside the main door to the lighthouse. He and Celeste stayed put for a few moments. Both stared at the red-brick building that looked as inviting as Celeste had always thought it.

  Celeste smiled and her eyes became teary. “The day you brought me here was the day I fell in love with you, although I didn’t realize it then.”

  “Umm. That’s not when it happened for me,” Max said as he faced Celeste. “I fell in love with you at the prison gate. Can’t beat that for a romantic setting, can you?” He laughed with such a genuine spirit, Celeste had no choice but to join in. He always had the remarkable ability to bring cheerfulness into a situation and to see life as a glass half full.

  “I can still remember how you took my breath away.” Max’s eyes misted over. “I felt awkward. I knew the timing was bad for me to rush you into a relationship, but I certainly didn’t want you to get away from me, either.”

  “Look what I’ve gotten you into.” Celeste giggled. “I bet it’s more than you bargained for.”

  “If it has to do with you, any situation is worth my being involved.” He kissed her. “Let’s go in and start the festivities.”

  Max slid out the door and went to the passenger side. He held his hand to Celeste like a gallant knight and helped her out.

  Today, Lake Superior’s calm waters lapped the shoreline in barely discernible waves. The lake appeared like a mirror, in stark contrast to the last time Celeste and Max had been at the house.

  Max offered Celeste his arm and they walked to the door as they had many times in the past.

  CHILDREN’S GIGGLES COMING FROM the kitchen sounded like music to Celeste as she pushed the door open and she and Max stepped over the threshold. The scent of roasting turkey mixed with the aroma of apple pie and cinnamon embraced her. Home. Her appetite surged and her mouth watered. No more of that mush the hospital had the nerve to call food. She could hardly wait to devour the savory meal that was waiting.

  Max raised his nose into the air and inhaled deeply. “Yum. I can taste it already.”

  “Hey!” Adrian called from the kitchen. “Look who’s here.”

  Suddenly seven pairs of eyes were focused on Celeste and Max. Then the children rushed to them, screeching, “You’re here! You’re home!” This was followed by hugs and kisses all around.

  Marcy took Celeste and Max’s coats and handed them to Doug. Celeste smiled warmly to herself to see that Doug had been included in their Thanksgiving celebration. Adrian apparently had decided to take a daring step toward a relationship of some sort with him. She smiled coyly, acknowledging Celeste’s gaze.

  Celeste tentatively took off her cap and waited for the children’s reactions. All of them stood still and gawked.

  “Does it hurt?” McKenna dared to ask.

  “A little. But it probably looks funnier than it hurts.” Celeste smiled.

  “Let Max and Celeste sit down.” Adrian shooed the children away from the couple so they could get away from the door and into the living room. “You can bombard them with questions once they get settled.” Then she smiled at Celeste and said, “It’s good to have you home.”

  “It’s good to be here.” Celeste really meant it, too. She sat in a wingback chair. Max followed close behind and stood at her side like a guard. His protective behavior tickled her.

  “The chairs and couches have been reupholstered,” Celeste said cheerfully as she surveyed the room. “And the walls are painted. When did you have the time to get this done?” She ran her hand over the chair, admiring the fabric. But it was difficult not to recall the blood splatters, no matter how carefully they’d been cleaned away.

  “You have a lot of good friends in Marquette,” Adrian said. “The upholstery shop put a priority on the job.”

  “Well,” Celeste sighed, “I’m overwhelmed.”

  “We chose a pattern for both the chairs and the couch that kept it a nautical theme,” Tomika announced proudly. We, Celeste noted, was a much easier word for the woman who had once thought she’d have to survive alone.

  “But,” Adrian added, “we also wanted to maintain a casual but elegant look. What do you think?”

  Celeste studied the navy lattice damask upholstery on the wingback chairs. She fingered the beige accent. Then she eyed the repeated stripe pattern of navy, beige, and red of the two couches.

  “It’s called Americana,” Tomika said as she brushed her hand over one of the couches.

  “It’s absolutely lovely,” Celeste said. She was overwhelmed by the care and pride displayed by the women. “I couldn’t have done better myself.” Then her eyes wandered to the freshly painted walls. “You’ve also chosen the perfect color for the walls.”

  “We picked colors that we thought went well with the tradition of the house,” Adrian explained, appearing anxious for Celeste’s approval. “Doug helped paint.”

  Celeste smiled and nodded.

  “We also liked the names of the paint,” Marcy added.

  “What are the names?” Celeste asked.

  “The walls are Sheer Ice and the woodwork and wainscoting are in Pleasant Lake,” Marcy answered. “Pale blue and deep blue. Aren’t the names perfect?”

  “Perfect,” Celeste answered. “I love it all.”

  Marcy hardly waited for Celeste to comment before she blurted out, “We painted the kitchen, too, and hung new curtains.”

  All three women beamed. They probably had never had the opportunity in their former lives to act independently or to show how creative they could be.

  Celeste glanced around the women to get a peek at the kitchen. The walls had been painted in a bright yellow that reminded her of a summer morning. The multicolored flowers that danced across the curtains seemed so real they could be picked for a spring bouquet. “You’ve filled this home with sunshine and warmth.” Celeste not only meant that for their efforts, but also for the women’s love and compassion. She truly felt blessed to have their friendship and Max’s love. The only thing that could have made it better would have been to have Lorraine and her children here.

  The children had stayed together at the side of the room. Their unusually quiet behavior troubled Celeste. When she grinned at them, McKenna, the talkative one of Adrian’s twins, edged forward and asked, “How did you hurt your head?”

  “And your cheek?” Logan, McKenna’s twin, chimed in.

  Celeste laughed. “It’s a long story and one day I’ll tell it to you.”

  “Well,” Max interrupted, “let me tell you that Celeste fought off a very bad man who came here to hurt her.”

  “The man that came the night we went to the inn?” McKenna asked.

  “Yes.” Max smiled. “Celeste was very brave. Today we have a lot to be thankful for, don’t we?”

  “Yes,” the children said.

  “Who wants to eat?” Adrian shouted from the kitchen.

  “I do,” yelled the children.

  “I do,” Max said and rubbed his stomach.

  “I do, too,” Celeste said. “I’ve looked forward to a good home-cooked meal for a long time.”

  “Wait, Mom,” McKenna shouted. “You forgot something.”

  “Oh, you’re right. Go get them.”

  McKenna and Logan raced fr
om the room, creating a breeze as they passed. Shortly they reappeared with crowns of paper feathers on their heads. “We made them in school for Thanksgiving,” McKenna announced and twirled around. Then she gave each of the adults a similar headdress.

  Since the location of the safe house had been discovered thanks to the news coverage of Chad’s death, the children now attended public school. Everyone agreed that unless they left the area to go into hiding somewhere else, they had no reason not to attempt normal lives right where they were. Not one of their abusers had tried to contact them, not even Adrian’s husband—for Celeste, an additional reason to be thankful.

  McKenna crowned Celeste. “You can be the Indian princess.”

  “I’d be honored.” Celeste adjusted the cap over her scars.

  “This suits me fine.” Max laughed as he donned the colorful feathers. “Did you know I am a real Indian?”

  All the children’s mouths hinged open in amazement and they said in unison, “Wow.”

  “Awesome. A real Indian for our Thanksgiving party,” McKenna added.

  Celeste placed both hands on the arms of the chair and pushed herself to her feet. She had much less stamina than she had thought she would by now.

  Max offered her one of his arms and the other he offered to McKenna. “May I escort you two charming ladies to the dinner table?”

  “We’d be delighted,” Celeste said. “Wouldn’t we, McKenna?”

  McKenna pulled her shoulders back, stood tall, and beamed. “Yes.”

  Celeste believed this would be a moment McKenna would remember the rest of her life—a time when she was treated like a princess and a time she truly felt safe. In fact it was a time they all felt safe again. How Celeste prayed the rest of McKenna’s life would be as pleasant.

  The three led the group to the table—or more correctly, tables. The women had pushed several tables together so all ten of them could eat at one, including Matthew in his high chair. Gemma dozed in her cradle next to the fireplace.

  “The table looks beautiful.” Celeste sat in a chair Max pulled out from the head of the table. He pushed the chair in and then sat down to her right.

  Once settled, Celeste said, “It must have taken a long time for you to set.”

  “We all helped,” Adrian said.

  “I put on the tablecloths and napkins,” McKenna said, after which each child told what he or she had done from carrying the plates to laying the flatware.

  The women giggled. “It was quite the effort,” Tomika said. She rolled her eyes at the results.

  “Well, I believe it is charming, and that even Martha Stewart would be impressed.” Celeste nodded as the children and mothers slipped into the empty chairs. The children glowed with pride.

  “Who’s Martha Stewart?” McKenna asked.

  The adults laughed and her mother explained. Celeste took the time to take in what she saw before her. Two white cloths and one with bright orange pumpkins covered the makeshift dining table. The dishes ranged from the special china Celeste had brought to the lighthouse to the Corelle dishes in country cottage design purchased at the local Wal-Mart. Celeste had to admit she loved the confusion of all the patterns. A little chaos, she thought, might be good for the soul.

  Max left the table and went to the kitchen to retrieve the turkey Adrian had already carved. Dishes of squash, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, peas and onions, and cranberries had already been placed around the table. Once Max set the platter down, he asked, “Who wants a drumstick?” And so the dinner began.

  “Before we dig in, I’d like each of us to think of something for which we are thankful.” Celeste gazed at Max. “I’ll start first.” She sighed. “I have many reasons to be thankful, including for all you being here with me, for Max, and for my health.”

  Max took Celeste’s hand. “I’m thankful that Celeste finally agreed to marry me this spring here at the lighthouse.”

  Doug took Adrian’s hand and said, “I’m happy that Adrian has allowed me to be part of her life.” He lowered his head and blushed.

  Adrian also blushed and modestly said, “Me, too.”

  After that the other women and children gave thanks as well, mostly for having a safe home and food and for being with people who loved them. Everyone fell silent for a few moments as they thought over their good fortune and perhaps the absence of the terrors that had been too much a part of their past lives.

  Max finally broke the silence and announced, “Let’s eat.”

  Soon all that could be heard was the passing of the serving plates and the scraping of spoons as they delivered food to each plate. Everyone became quiet again as they devoured their feast. Occasionally someone could be heard saying, “Yum,” or “This is really good.”

  Max raised his water glass. “I toast the cooks and all the helpers for this fine meal.” Everyone clinked their glasses and shouted, “To the cooks and helpers.”

  Over and over Celeste heard the satisfying clink, clink as each child made sure their glass touched every other one. She ate unhurriedly so as not to irritate her jaw and to delight in every morsel as long as she could.

  AFTER AN HOUR AND second helpings, the happy group finished dinner. The women and children cleared the table. “You two stay put,” Adrian ordered Celeste and Max.

  “I won’t argue with that,” Max said.

  “Me, either. It’s a treat,” Celeste agreed.

  Once most of the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher and were on their way to being cleaned, and the pots scrubbed or soaking, everyone had digested their food enough to eat dessert. Soon the children returned to the table with plates and forks followed by the women carrying an array of pies—apple, pumpkin, mince and lemon meringue.

  “Who made all these beautiful pies?” Celeste asked. She stifled a laugh when she saw how the crusts on two were a little overdone.

  “Believe it or not,” Marcy answered, “each of us chose one and prepared it.” She nodded to all the women. “But Adrian made two.” Marcy pointed to the lemon meringue and pumpkin pies. “The crusts aren’t burnt.”

  “We cheated a little, though,” Tomika admitted. “We used Pillsbury’s help. None of us felt ready to tackle a crust yet.”

  “You had to give our secret away,” Marcy teased. Then she chuckled. “Tomika and I also used store-bought fillings for the apple and mince.”

  “Enough of this discussion.” Max’s eyes formed circles as large as the pies in anticipation of the treats. “I’d like to test a small piece of each.”

  Celeste and each child echoed his choice.

  FINALLY THE GROUP PUSHED away from the table filled with happiness and food. They decided to clean up later after they had time to rest their stomachs and gathered around the fireplace.

  “This is truly what Thanksgiving is all about,” Max said and beamed at the gathering.

  “Yes, and I have more things I want to share with everyone here,” Celeste announced after she had eased into the same wingback chair, looking—despite her shaved head—every bit the matriarch she had become.

  Marcy and Tomika suddenly showed signs of distress as though Celeste was about to tell them something dreadful. After all, they had been through so much in their lives Celeste could hardly expect they’d react differently. Adrian, however, remained calm. She knew what Celeste had in store.

  “Wipe those cheerless looks from your faces,” Celeste said as though she were their mother. “I’m not telling you anything sad.”

  At that everyone shuffled into comfortable positions to listen. “What is it, then?” Tomika’s tone sounded urgent. How wonderful for her to be so talkative after that first week she’d spent in near silence.

  “McKenna, bring me my purse, please,” Celeste said.

  McKenna scurried to the entry table, grabbed the purse, and handed it to Celeste. The purse was more a tote, through which Celeste rummaged until she found what she wanted, and pulled out a stack of papers. She retrieved her reading glasses from their
case and placed them low on her nose. The children squirmed, waiting for Celeste to begin.

  “Max and I discussed several issues while we were confined to the hospital,” Celeste started.

  Max laughed. “We couldn’t do much of anything else but plan our future.”

  Celeste grinned at Max. “Here’s what we’ve decided.” She lifted the first of several official-looking pages stapled together and handed them to Adrian. “Adrian has agreed to stay on as my assistant. We’ll run the lighthouse as a Stage II residence.” She explained to Marcy and Tomika. “That is a transition house for women who have already been through a phase of living in a safe house.”

  Tomika and Marcy sat in silence. Both their faces registered happiness, then envy, then happiness. Surely they couldn’t help feeling left out of Adrian’s good fortune.

  “Now for you two.” Celeste faced them.

  The two young women abruptly straightened.

  “I’ve set up a college scholarship fund in Pilar’s name,” Celeste proclaimed. “You two are the first recipients. I know you both want to go to nursing school. Your full tuition will be paid by this fund.”

  “Wow,” Tomika said. “Thank you, thank you.” She raced to Celeste and hugged her.

  Marcy jumped up and yelled a little too loudly, “Ditto.”

  Everyone laughed as Marcy’s face turned a deep shade of red. “There’s no way any of us can really thank you enough,” she said.

  “Yes, there is. Be confident, be good mothers, be successful, and be happy.” Celeste took Max’s hand. “Plus, you have a wedding to plan and host this spring here at the lighthouse.”

  “Does this mean we get to stay here?” Tomika asked.

  “Absolutely,” Celeste said. “You’ll be our first two in the Stage II status.”

  Tomika and Marcy hugged each other. Then they hugged Celeste again. “This is too, too …” Marcy stumbled.

  “Awesome,” Tomika finished.

  “Yeah,” Marcy agreed.

  “Then what will you two do?” Tomika asked.

  “We’re looking for a condo in Marquette,” Max reported. “Celeste, and probably I will be here almost every day. That is, after we take a few weeks off after Christmas to go on a cruise and loaf on a Florida beach.”