Close to Home

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Dodie felt a flush of guilt, but reminded herself that much of what she was saying was true.

  Janie gave Dodie a hug. “I never knew, sister. You should have said something.”

  Dodie allowed herself a moment of weakness. Of letting her sister comfort her.

  “I didn’t want to go through all that. I was scared Mom would want me to see a counselor and make me see a doctor.” Dodie shrugged. “I got it through then, I’ll get through it now. Jace didn’t understand, and we fought.”

  Janie held her gaze, as if trying to peer past the haze of words Dodie was spinning between them.

  It’s all the truth, Dodie reminded herself again.

  “So now, this is who I am,” Dodie said. “Being alone is my choice.”

  “Jace isn’t the only man for you, you know,” Janie said, making an intuitive leap in her own logic.

  Dodie closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears. At least now, she could feel authentic in her sorrow. “But I really cared for him. I really thought…” Her voice faded away and she swallowed.

  “You’ll find someone else, you know. You are an amazing and wonderful woman. You’re pure and lovely and beautiful. And if Jace can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Janie waited, as if to let this information sink in. Then she picked up Dodie’s Bible. “You’ve been reading this again.”

  Dodie nodded. “I was reading what the pastor read from the Bible that Sunday I was in church. But I couldn’t get past the part about the boundaries of my life falling in pleasant places.” She gave a short laugh. “They haven’t been so pleasant.”

  Janie hesitated, then flipped through the Bible, the thin pages rustling in the quiet. “Maybe you need to look at something that more adequately speaks to the pain you’re dealing with.” She handed the open Bible back to Dodie. “Read some of these passages. They might make a bit more sense.”

  Dodie glanced down, recognizing the Psalms. The ones she often skipped because she never felt the angry imprecations against justice for enemies ever applied to her. “The cursing Psalms,” she said quietly. “How can I find any comfort in that?”

  “It’s not about comfort. I think God invites honest emotion, He invites interaction. An entire book of the Bible is devoted to lamenting, something we don’t pay enough attention to. Something we avoid.”

  Dodie skimmed the passages, seeing David’s anger, his frustration. She sensed a kinship with the words. “I guess, like David, I felt like God had let me down.”

  “I felt that way toward God when I was married to Owen and then after, when he died. And, as you said, David felt the same way. So you’re not alone.” Janie took the Bible from Dodie, put a bookmark in the Bible and laid it aside. “Some of this you’ll have to deal with—just you and God. I want to challenge you to take some time to pray. To talk to God honestly and tell Him what you’re trying to deal with.”

  Dodie tested the idea as hints of the old relationship she had with God broke in from the edges of her life. At one time, she’d had a relationship. At one time, her prayers had sustained and helped her.

  However, her life apart from God had been empty. Lifeless. She’d been trying to outrun Him, but it seemed He was relentless.

  Janie must have sensed her hesitation. “Do you want me to pray with you now?”

  She lowered her head and nodded. “Sure. Can’t hurt.”

  Janie grasped her sister’s hands and squeezed. “Dear Lord, my little sister has been hurting a long time. You know exactly how she feels and You hurt with her. Help her to give her pain over to You. Give her comfort and let her know that she is Your beloved child.”

  Janie paused and Dodie let the words rest in her mind. Even though Janie didn’t know everything, she had said exactly the words Dodie needed to hear.

  Beloved child. She was God’s beloved child.

  “Help us, her family, to understand and to support her,” Janie continued. “Be with her and love her. Amen.”

  Dodie felt like a fraud, but at the same time, her sister’s prayer gave her some measure of comfort.

  She raised her head and granted her sister a careful smile.

  “Thanks, Janie,” she said.

  Janie touched Dodie’s cheek. “I know things haven’t been that great for you, but you know, tomorrow things will seem much better.”

  “Thanks for coming by,” Dodie said. “Why did you stop over?”

  “I actually just came to borrow your pink skirt…”

  “Sure. I’ll go get it.” Dodie got up, thankful for the return to the ordinary things of life.

  She stepped over the fallen chair and by the time she found the skirt and had returned, Janie had cleaned up the living room a bit.

  Janie took the skirt and as she folded it over her arm, she gave Dodie a tentative smile. “And don’t worry about Jace. If he doesn’t come around, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Dodie said, walking her sister to the door.

  She closed the door behind her and fell back against it, dropping her head into her hands.

  She should have told Janie.

  But a secret held for six years wasn’t easily let go of.

  Maybe she would someday. When Jace was gone.

  She closed her eyes against the pain those simple words caused her. Jace. Gone.

  She had to keep going. She had to be strong. Jace was no longer in her life. Their fight had seen to that.

  He couldn’t be in Riverbend.

  So come Sunday, Jace headed to the city. He even sat with Carson and his wife in church, thankful that something in his life seemed to be normal. He and Carson talked briefly about the case. When Jace returned to Riverbend, it was with renewed purpose. He was a criminal lawyer and he was doing the right thing. And this coming weekend, as soon as the fundraiser was over, he was leaving.

  He dove into his work, getting ready for the lawyer that was going to be taking his place and trying to eradicate his fight with Dodie from his mind.

  He avoided Janie’s coffee shop for three days. And then one day, he pushed himself away from his desk and walked down the street. He wasn’t going to let Dodie determine the course of his life anymore. He wasn’t going to avoid her like some lovestruck young man. He had some pride, after all.

  But when he got to the coffee shop, only Janie stood behind the counter.

  The look she gave him wasn’t too encouraging.

  “What will you have?” she asked, her features composed into an expressionless mask.

  “Coffee. To go,” he said, glancing around the store, wondering where Dodie was.

  “She’s not here,” Janie said, pouring him his coffee and snapping a lid on with extra force.

  Jace nodded, handing Janie a bill and reaching for his coffee.

  But Janie kept her hand on the cup, her eyes on his. “I heard you had a fight Saturday night.”

  Jace should have known her sister would have found out about it so soon. “Can’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  Janie sent him a piercing glare. “At any rate, Dodie is hurting right now and she needs some space.”

  “As you can see, I’ve been giving her lots of it,” Jace returned. He was getting tired of Janie, as well. “I just hope she decides to show up at the fundraiser.”

  “She’ll be there.” Janie sighed. “Though I can’t see why. She just went along with the whole thing because of Mom. And, she wouldn’t admit it anymore, but I think a bit of it was because of you.”

  Jace’s heart lurched. “What do you mean?”

  Janie tapped her fingers on her arm. “She’s never really gotten over you.”

  Janie’s comment hung between them, full of implications.

  “What do you mean?” he said again.

  “She’s always had a thing for you.” The faintest hint of derision entered Janie’s voice. “Even after she came back from Europe…I know she still cared for you, though I could never figure out why.”


  Jace held the first part of her comment to himself, promising to examine it more later. For now, he zeroed in on the last part.

  “You never liked me, did you?”

  Janie shrugged. “No secret there.”

  “Why?”

  Janie pursed her lips. “You wasted so much of your life,” she said. “You could have done so much better in school. You had good parents and family but you always acted like they were a pain in your neck.”

  Jace clenched his jaw, realizing that, to a point, she was right.

  “Dodie is so family-oriented,” Janie continued. “So bound to the community she grew up in. She would have stayed in Riverbend if she could. But you didn’t like Riverbend. Still don’t. You didn’t appreciate this town, or your parents. You were so eager to get out of here, so quick to move to the city and set your sights upward. And she cared enough to follow you there.”

  He bristled at her accusations. “Dodie didn’t have to follow me.”

  “No, but she was willing to make some pretty big sacrifices for you,” Janie said. “I always wondered what sacrifices you would have made for her.”

  Jace held Janie’s gaze, feeling the challenge in it and, at the same time, wishing he didn’t care so much about what Janie was saying. “You say she needs space and I’ve tried to give it to her, but I didn’t exactly quit thinking about her when she left me high and dry. She mattered a lot to me. Still does.” That last was a concession to the feelings he couldn’t seem to sweep away, no matter how often he went over the fight he and Dodie had.

  Then he saw a begrudging smile slip across Janie’s mouth. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

  And that was it. She turned away and Jace stood there a moment, holding his cup of coffee. He took a sip.

  Cold.

  Then he set the cup on the counter and walked out. His replacement was coming tomorrow and he had to get ready for him. And then he had to get ready to move back to Edmonton.

  And what about Dodie?

  He wished he knew the answer to that. Because even if he went to the city, he wasn’t so sure he could completely put her behind him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Happy Birthday to me, Dodie thought as she smoothed her hand over her soft green dress, adjusted the high, beaded neckline. She should have let Janie throw her a birthday party. Celebrating thirty years of life and still single was preferable to facing Jace at the fundraiser tonight.

  You can stay home.

  The pernicious voice returned but Dodie banished it. She had spent the day at home and ignored the phone, knowing the calls would be from her family wishing her a happy birthday. She felt anything but happy.

  She took another look at herself in the mirror. She had argued back and forth with herself for the past hour. Stay. Go. Stay. Go.

  Her head was tired. She had to follow through on this. She still felt she had to prove to Jace that she was the kind of person who stuck with things to the end.

  She didn’t want to be defeated by what happened to her. After the fundraiser Jace was leaving, and then she could get back to her life the way it was before he invaded it.

  Someday she would tell her family what happened.

  But not yet. Not with Jace so close. Once he was out of her life for good, she could release her secrets and finally move on.

  She carefully tucked a wayward strand of hair back up, pressed her lips together and picked up her beaded purse.

  She was ready.

  By the time she walked into the door of the hall, her hands and feet were ice cold and she was shivering inside. She stepped into the hall and was overcome.

  The first thing she was noticed was the hum of hundreds of voices underlaid with a soundtrack of classical music playing quietly.

  So this is what sold-out looks like, she thought.

  People were everywhere; sitting at tables, chatting in corners and bent over the tables lining the edges of an arena that had been miraculously transformed.

  Rows and rows of round paper lanterns were strung along the ceiling, each lit up inside. The tables were covered in white linen and yellow runners, and each table held a tall crystal vase holding an assortment of Asiatic lilies, with ivy climbing down the vase to rest on the table.

  Dark velvet curtains were draped along the front of the auditorium, creating a backdrop for the stage, which was edged with white linen and draped with ivy, as well.

  Her eyes swept the arena, looking for only one person. But she could see no sign of him. He would be here. Of that she was positive.

  And that had been why she had hesitated so long. But if she was going to try to live her life here in Riverbend, if she was going to carry on, then she needed to do just that. Carry on. Be herself.

  “Dodie. There’s the birthday girl.”

  Dodie put on a smile and turned to face her mother.

  “Happy birthday, dear. Tilly pressed a kiss to Dodie’s cheek. “My goodness, you’re chilled. Your father and I have been looking everywhere for you.” Her mother looked elegant in a dark blue velvet dress and silver bolero. Diamonds sparkled from her ears and necklace. Her eyes flicked over Dodie’s dress and she frowned. “Didn’t you wear that dress to Ethan and Hannah’s wedding?”

  “Seemed a shame not to use it again.”

  “Well, it looks lovely enough.” Her mother smoothed a strand of hair away from Dodie’s face. “I made sure that we’re sitting at the same table. All the organizers of the fundraiser will be sitting near the front.”

  “That’s fine, Mom,” Dodie said weakly. She was holding herself together by sheer willpower. She hoped that she wouldn’t be in Jace’s line of vision because that would make it too difficult for her to maintain her composure.

  “All the seats are assigned, my dear, and this is a sold-out crowd.” Tilly tugged on Dodie’s arm as she worked her way through the crowd to the front of the arena.

  “Here’s our table,” Tilly announced. “Dan, look who I found.”

  Dodie’s father was already getting up, smiling at his daughter. He wore a silver-gray suit and black shirt and tie, which only enhanced the few grey strands in his blonde hair. “Lookin’ pretty spiff, Dad,” Dodie said, giving him a quick hug.

  “Happy birthday, my dear, and may you be blessed with many more.” Her father returned the hug and pulled back, a concerned look on his face. “I stopped by the coffee shop this week, but Janie said you were sick.”

  “Yeah. I had some kind of weird bug that just wouldn’t go away, but I feel better now.”

  The squeal of a microphone caught her attention and then the chairman, Randy Webber, was standing at the podium. “Everyone please find your seats,” he said pleasantly. “We need to get started.”

  People made their way back to their tables, and in a matter of minutes everyone was sitting down.

  “Let me do that for you, hon,” her father said, helping her into her seat.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Dodie murmured as she sat down. Her gaze skittered over the room, looking for Jace.

  But she hadn’t seen him.

  There was an empty seat beside Dodie and, curious as to who it might be, Dodie glanced at the place card.

  And panic uncoiled through her.

  Jace Scholte.

  Please Lord, help me get through this, she prayed, then assured herself that everything would be just fine.

  “I just want to say a hearty welcome to everyone here tonight,” Randy said, glancing over the crowd. “We’ve got a wonderful program for you, and I want to add my congratulations and thanks to Dodie Westerveld and Jace Scholte for getting Helen Lennox to sing for us this evening.”

  He turned to Dodie and started clapping, and a burst of applause followed.

  Dodie felt a flush of pleasure at the acknowledgment, but that was mixed with nervous apprehension. Jace still hadn’t shown up and she knew he was going to.

  Her mother turned in her seat, surveying the full arena, then turned the other way.

  “What�
��s wrong, Tilly?” Dan asked.

  “I can’t understand where Jace would be. He said he was going to be sitting with us.”

  Dodie wondered if he had decided to forgo the evening. She felt the faintest flicker of hope. If he didn’t come and he had to leave right after the fundraiser, maybe she wouldn’t see him at all.

  But the sense of loss she felt extinguished the hope. She closed her eyes, struggling to find her equilibrium. Ever since Jace had come back to Riverbend, she felt as if the hold she had on her life had been slowly slipping out of her fingers.

  “Sorry I’m late.” The sound of a deep, familiar voice shot Dodie’s heart into overdrive, and she looked up in time to see Jace settle into the chair beside her.

  She swallowed down the beat of anticipation his presence evoked. He wore a black suit, white shirt and gray tie—elegant and appealing.

  The intricate ebb and flow of her emotions was exhausting, and when he turned to look at her, she didn’t know what to cling to anymore.

  “How are you?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  She breathed a sigh of relief at his even tone. He was going to play it this way, then. Thank goodness. Anger would have made her angry in return, and sympathy would have worn down her own fragile defenses. Bland and unemotional was exactly the kind of tone she could emulate.

  “I’m fine,” she said, with a polite nod.

  “Happy birthday, by the way.” She forced a smile, acknowledging his greeting.

  Then Randy was dictating the order the tables would be eating. Theirs was the second one.

  Having food in front of her gave her something to concentrate on. Thankfully, her parents and the other people at the table kept the conversation going. Dodie only contributed when spoken to, skating her fork across her plate in a vague attempt at eating.

  It was going to be a long evening. She wanted to duck out, to run away, but she fought the urge. She had spent enough of her life running away. She wasn’t going to do that anymore.