Where My Heart Belongs

by Tracie Peterson

  SEVEN

  SUNSHINE REGRETTED HER LAST few words the minute they were out of her mouth. She’d never intended to bring it back to Kathy and her attitude. She had honestly thought that if Kathy knew that Sunny could own her poor choices, then maybe Kathy could recognize her own choices and feel less the victim. Instead, Sunny had clearly crossed a line.

  Kathy nearly knocked the kitchen chair over as she got to her feet. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Please don’t go. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  “I’m not mad. I have to take Dad his medicine,” Kathy said very coolly.

  “Look, why don’t you let me do it?” Sunny got to her feet. “I want to lighten your load.”

  “My load is just fine. I don’t need your help.” Kathy began pulling medicine from the cupboard.

  “Kathy, please try to understand,” Sunny began.

  Kathy turned around. “What I understand is that you have caused this family more than a little pain.” She seemed to struggle with her words. “I’m sorry about your baby. What happened . . . well . . . it’s awful. But this is something completely different.” Kathy whirled back around and gripped the counter. “I wish you’d never come back.”

  Sunny knew it would do little good to try and argue her point. She looked back for a moment at the table. Why should her sister’s rejection be any different from all the other times she’d been cast off?

  “I guess I’ll go to town.” Sunny picked up a piece of toast and a few slices of bacon and made a sandwich. “I’ll be back by afternoon.”

  Kathy said nothing, but Sunny hadn’t expected her to. Kathy’s anger caused Sunny a moment of frustration. Wasn’t this why she’d left in the first place?

  Nobody here ever understood me. Nobody ever saw anything outside of their own needs—their own interests.

  Sunny slid into her car and took a deep breath. She hadn’t intended to tell about her baby son. She supposed a part of her had told the story hoping Kathy would be shocked enough to stop taking her anger out on Sunny. Another part of her just wanted Kathy to understand that her choice to run away hadn’t given Sunny a life of beauty and luxury as her sister might think.

  She thinks I somehow missed out on the pain.

  The car roared to life and classical music filled the interior. Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” blared out as if to cheer her up. Sunny shut off the CD and threw the car into gear. There was no joy in her life right now and no sense in pretending there was. She took a bite of the toast sandwich and headed down the gravel road.

  The drive into downtown Slocum took less than ten minutes. The drive through town took less than two. Built as a support to area farmers, the town had once boasted a spur line on the Union Pacific, as well as the promise of a major highway system. When the highway failed to materialize and the railroad line was eventually shut down, the town of Slocum slowly settled into obscurity.

  Sunny noticed several empty businesses on Main Street. Where a bakery and café had once served as a gathering place for high school students, there were only boarded up windows and a sign that read Out of Business. The same was true of the old appliance store, veterinary clinic, and quilt shop.

  Parking in front of the small grocery store, Sunny decided to get something cold to drink. She felt as though the toast and bacon were still stuck in her throat and fervently wished she’d not gulped it down on the drive over.

  A bell rang on the door of the tiny store called Somner’s. When Sunny had been a girl, this store had been handy for those immediate needs, but they didn’t buy bulk purchases there. Her mother always drove to Hays for their monthly supplies. Somner’s was much as she remembered it. The produce section was just to the left, and to the right were two checkout lanes. Friday nights were always busy, Sunny remembered, and usually Mr. Somner had both lanes open. Today, though, the place was nearly empty, as usual.

  “Can I help you?” a man questioned.

  Sunny didn’t recognize the man, nor did he show any idea of knowing her. “I’m after something cold to drink.”

  The man nodded and pointed. “Back of the store. There’s a selection of soda in the refrigerated section.”

  Sunny smiled and made her way through the aisles. There was something comforting in the familiar store. She had just rounded the corner when someone let out a gasp. She looked up to see a tired-looking woman. The face was familiar, although aged.

  “Mrs. Stover?” Sunny knew it had to be her mother’s best friend. Mrs. Stover had taught grade school and Sunny had been in her third-grade class.

  “So you’re alive. I can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face in this town again, Amy Halbert.” She said the name in a tone of near disgust.

  Sunny was immediately taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

  Mrs. Stover was a short woman. Sunny had at least a couple of inches on her, but at this moment Sunny had the distinct sensation that the woman was looking down at her. “I didn’t think you could be so heartless as to show up now. I suppose you heard that your father is dying and came back to offer him your attention. It would have been nice if you could have done that for your mother. Poor woman. Her heart broke in two the day you left. Worried herself to death over you—and for what?”

  Speechless, Sunny could only stand and stare at the woman. Renea Stover wanted—probably needed—to condemn Sunny in the way she might have done years earlier if she’d had the chance.

  “Your parents never did anything but spoil you and give you whatever you asked for. I told Marg it would be the ruin of you. I told her you weren’t a bit grateful. If you hadn’t been so selfish, she’d be alive today.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve caused you pain, Mrs. Stover. You may not believe it, but I miss my mother very much. I wish I could have been here with her.”

  “Don’t bother to tell me lies. You’re good for nothing, Amy. This town and your family were better off without you.”

  Sunny still didn’t know what to say. She thought perhaps it would be best to move on and leave the woman to her misery. “I need to go now,” she murmured.

  “No doubt. Probably going to run off again.”

  “Amy, is that you?”

  Sunny turned to find her old friend Debbie Williams. A little boy clung to her leg while another one carried a loaf of bread and package of cookies. “Debbie?”

  “I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been forever. Do you have time to join us? We’re going to the park. I’d love to talk to you.”

  Mrs. Stover turned up her nose. “Deborah,” she murmured with the slightest nod of her head. With that she spun and hurried to the front of the store. No doubt she would spread the news of Sunny’s return.

  “I came here to grab something to drink,” Sunny explained.

  “Good. I’m getting us something too.” Debbie pointed the way. “They don’t have much to choose from, but at least it’s cold.”

  Sunny picked the closest cola and waited for Debbie to make her selections. The boys watched Sunny with a rather suspicious curiosity. The younger of the two was acting shy, while the older one clearly wanted information but seemed to know better than to ask.

  “Ready to go to the park?” Debbie asked the older boy.

  “Mom, can we get some candy too?”

  Debbie shook her head. “There’s enough sugar in the cookies. We’ll have plenty of sweets without candy.” She looked up and met Sunny’s gaze. “These are my boys. Isaac is four and Josiah is six. Boys, this is my friend Amy.”

  “I don’t answer to that name anymore,” Sunny said, trying to forget Mrs. Stover’s attack.

  “As I recall you didn’t much answer anyone, by any name,” Debbie teased. “What shall I call you?”

  Sunny tried not to be further upset by Debbie’s comment, but the fact of the matter was everyone in this town knew who she was and what she’d done. “I changed my name to Sunshine, but my friends call me Sunny.”

  Debbie grinned. “I remember when we used to talk
about changing our names. We hated them so much. I’m still not that fond of Deborah, but Debbie doesn’t bother me like it once did.”

  Sunny nodded and they made their way up to the front of the store. Mrs. Stover was nowhere in sight. They paid for their selections and walked outside. Debbie pointed across the street.

  “They put in a little park just behind the post office. Our house is three blocks that way so we just walked over.”

  Sunny pointed to the burgundy car. “That’s mine. I can give everyone a lift. I doubt it would be right to leave it here. Someone might need to park close to the store.”

  “We’ll just walk and wait for you there. The boys need to expend their energy.” She gave a bottle of pop to her youngest, while Josiah held the sack rather possessively. “See you there, Sunny.”

  Sunny watched for a few minutes as Debbie walked away with her sons. Her life seemed good—a far cry from the life Sunny had known. With a sigh, Sunny got in her car. She thought of the strange encounter with Renea Stover, and of the stiff manner in which the man at the store handled Sunny after Renea had no doubt informed him of who she was. People in Slocum weren’t going to be all that forgiving, Sunny knew. Her parents were much beloved, and people would no doubt have little tolerance for the returned rebel.

  The park was a cute little affair. There were swings and large concrete tunnels half buried in the earth. A complex of platforms, slides, and cargo nets constituted the main attraction, and it was here that Debbie’s boys immediately headed.

  “This is great,” Sunny said, joining Debbie on a bench. “I’m sure the boys love it.”

  “They do. There isn’t much else for them to enjoy. The school doesn’t have much of anything anymore. In fact, they’re going to shut it down all together. Marty and I have decided to homeschool rather than see the boys bused too far away.”

  “So you married Marty Dunmire then?”

  “Did you ever doubt it? Goodness, but I couldn’t possibly have loved anyone else. He’s a great husband and an even better father. The boys adore him.”

  “What does he do for a living?” Sunny asked, not really caring but desperate to keep the conversation on Debbie.

  “He owns a couple of mechanic’s shops. Fixes cars mostly but also gets the occasional tractor or lawnmower. There isn’t a lot of work for him here, but he co-owns a shop in Hays with his dad, so it’s just enough to help us get through. He drives over there three days a week and works here three. His folks sold us their house when they moved to Hays, so we got a really good deal. It’s paid for, in fact, so we don’t need a lot of money.”

  Sunny found her comments rather strange. Who didn’t want more money? Yet Debbie seemed perfectly content.

  “So where have you been all these years? Did you marry anybody?”

  Sunny took a deep breath. “I lived in Las Vegas and LA, mostly. I did marry, but . . . well, it isn’t important.” She looked at her watch. “Is there a pay phone around here? My cell phone doesn’t get reception out here. I need to make a call, and if I don’t do it soon, I’ll miss the person I’m trying to reach.”

  “Sure. The gas station has a phone. It’s down at the east end. Marty’s garage is just next door. Can you come back and talk some more after your call?”

  Sunny shook her head. “Dad’s condition isn’t all that good. I don’t imagine I should be away from home for long.”

  “I understand. Do they know how much more time your dad has?”

  Sunny got to her feet. “No. It’s just a matter of weeks, maybe even days, they keep telling me.”

  “I’ll bet you’re really glad you came home—you know, so you could see him.”

  “I am glad for that,” Sunny admitted. But in all honesty she wasn’t glad for much else. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

  “I’d like that. You know where the old place is, don’t you?”

  Sunny nodded. “I remember.”

  She left Debbie and drove to the gas station. The pay phone was on the side of the building, so Sunny parked right in front of it. She left her purse in the car but took her calling card. Times like this she wished fervently that her cell phone would pick up a signal.

  “Hello?” Lana Hersh answered from the other end of the line.

  “Hi, Lana. It’s Sunny.” Lana was a registered nurse in Anaheim, California. She had been instrumental in helping Sunny find God’s truth and the peace that she so desperately needed. Without Lana’s help, Sunny knew she’d never have survived the last few months.

  “Sunny! How are you? I was beginning to worry. Are you okay?”

  “I guess I’m as well as can be expected. I’m here in Kansas.”

  “Have you seen your mom and dad, and your sister— what was her name?”

  “Kathy. I’ve seen her. I’ve seen Dad too, but my mom . . . well . . . she passed away a long time ago. It was my fault.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Mom had a heart attack shortly after I left home. They said she . . . They said her heart broke after I left. She wouldn’t eat or do much of anything. She had a massive attack. Kathy gave up everything to stay here and take care of her and Dad. She’s still here, in fact.”

  “Did your mother die from the heart attack?”

  “Not right away. It destroyed a good portion of her heart. She was supposed to have a transplant but never made it that far.”

  “Well, that is hardly your fault. You can own a lot of responsibility for various things in your life, but I hardly think your mother’s faulty heart is one of them.”

  “But I broke her heart. She would never have gotten sick to begin with if I hadn’t run away. Kathy said she didn’t eat or sleep. She was just devastated and it killed her. Kathy blames me.”

  “Look, you no doubt hurt her in leaving. You did wrong. I won’t lie and say that your choices didn’t hurt people. They hurt you too. But you’ve repented. You’ve asked God to forgive you and He has.”

  “But they haven’t. Oh, I think my dad forgave me long ago, but Kathy hasn’t and neither have the people of this town. I ran into my mom’s best friend and the woman was vicious. I think she would have pulled my hair out by the roots if she’d thought she could get away with it.”

  “They need time, Sunny. Having you show up after twelve years of silence is going to be hard. You have to give them time. They’ll come around.”

  “But we don’t have a lot of time. My father is dying from cancer. It’s spread everywhere.”

  “Oh, I am sorry. How long does he have?”

  “Days, maybe weeks. Not long. Kathy says he’s in the final stages.”

  “Sounds like God took you home just in time.”

  “I know, but it’s so hard. I want to make things right. I want them all to know how I’ve changed, but no one wants to know that. They just want to rant and rave at me—blame me for everything. I think they’d like to just pick up where we left off twelve years ago—as if I were the same person I was then.”

  “People in pain tend to act that way. They only know the old you, Sunny. You’ll have to prove to them that you’re different—that you truly have changed for the better.”

  “I know, but sometimes I think I should never have come back. Kathy says she wishes I wouldn’t have come.”

  “And what of your father?”

  Sunny thought for a moment. “He says I’m answered prayer.”

  “And you are. You really need to understand that. God has a plan in all of this, Sunny. He’s known where you were all these years. He loves you and won’t leave you. Just remember that.”

  “I’m trying to, Lana. It’s just very hard.”

  “Like I said, you need to give them time. Especially your sister.”

  “I’d give her all the time she asked for—even forever— but we don’t have that much time. Dad wants to see things set right before he dies, and I don’t think Kathy is ready for that. No, I’m sure she’s not ready.”

  “Trust the Lord, Sunny. He’s bigger than
this. He knows what it’s going to take to reach your sister. Trust Him and not the circumstances.”

  EIGHT

  “DAD WANTS TO SEE YOU,” Kathy said as Sunny stepped out of her car, her mood apparently unchanged. Sunny noted her sister’s waist-length honey brown hair had been braided down her back—a sure sign she was about to get to work on some project.

  “How’s he doing?”

  Kathy’s eyes narrowed as she frowned. “He’s in a lot of pain. I’ve called hospice and the doctor. I’m hoping they’ll put him on a morphine drip.”

  Sunny nodded. “Look, I’m really sorry about earlier. I wasn’t trying to give you grief. I can see that it’s been incredibly hard on you.”

  Without answering, Kathy turned to walk away, then stopped as if she’d thought of something to say. She didn’t look around or turn to face Sunny; she just stood there as if trying to regain her composure. Sunny wanted to say something, but the words felt stuck in her throat.

  What can I possibly say to make her feel better? To make things right?

  “I’ve thought about what you said,” Kathy finally said. “You’re right. I did make my choices. I felt like they were made for me though.” She looked at Sunny. “It doesn’t invalidate my feelings just because the situation was something other than what I thought. It still hurt. I still felt trapped. I still figured there was no other answer.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Kath. I can see that it wasn’t easy, but you have to know I’m not the same woman I was twelve years ago. I’m not asking you to pretend the past doesn’t exist, but rather I’d like for us to build a new relationship for the present—maybe even for the future.”

  A pickup truck pulling a horse trailer rumbled down the long gravel road that ran past the farm. “That will be the Meyers,” Kathy noted. “They’re coming to buy the horses. I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

  “Okay.” Sunny walked to the house, grabbed a glass of water, and went to her father’s room. She knocked against the open door. “Dad, Kathy said you wanted to see me.” She went to his bedside and pulled up a chair.