Where My Heart Belongs

by Tracie Peterson

  “I agree. I’m not your enemy in this. I only want you to see reason. You stayed here where you were safe and protected. You had plenty to eat and no one to cause you physical harm. You had your mother’s company, and yes, you had to watch her die, but at least you were her comfort in those final days. You’ll always know how much that meant to her.

  “You had your father’s love and company. I doubt Sunny even had a fraction of the peace you had. I don’t know what her story is or what all she’s been through, but there’s a look in her eyes that suggests a great many hideous things. I won’t try to guess them, but maybe it would help you both to share your miseries and try to help the other one see what happened over the years.”

  Kathy thought back to Sunny talking about the baby she’d buried and the man who’d beat her badly enough to take that child’s life. Kathy had never had that kind of fear. But on the other hand, Kathy would have never put herself in that position. All Sunny would have had to do was pick up the phone and call for help.

  But pride wouldn’t let her. Just like it won’t let me leave the past behind.

  The thought startled Kathy. Was that what this was all about—pride? She let the idea linger for a moment. She could see that there was merit to the thought, but admitting it was so hard.

  “I’ve blamed Amy for so long,” Kathy finally admitted. “And I’ve hurt over her desertion and betrayal. Sylvia, I don’t know that I can trust her again. I don’t know that the journey is even worth the bother.”

  Sylvia shook her head. “I have three children and each is precious to me. Each can be a burden as well. But I can tell you without a doubt that if any of them ran away, I would welcome them back with open arms whether they came home the next day, the next year, or decades later. My love for them is unconditional. No matter their behavior, I will go on loving them. It sounds to me that your love for Amy was conditioned upon her doing things your way—or at least in a manner that met your approval.”

  Her assertion was like a slap in the face. Kathy wanted to scream at Sylvia to get out, but she couldn’t even speak. It was almost as if the truth of the matter were strangling the words in her throat.

  “Look, I didn’t come here to hurt you,” Sylvia began. “We’ve been friends too long to lie to each other. I know you love your sister. That’s why this hurts so much. That’s why you can’t just show her the door and forget she ever came home. It isn’t because of your father being alive. It isn’t because you think you have no choice in the matter. It’s because you made a choice a long time ago to love her unconditionally.”

  Kathy felt her defenses drop. “It just hurts so much,” she finally whispered.

  Sylvia hugged her close. “Sometimes that’s how it is with love.”

  Kathy held on to Sylvia for several minutes. She felt as though she were a lifeline, and if she didn’t grab it now, she would drown in a sea of bitterness and sorrow. Her father would die in a short while, and she and Sunny would go their separate ways—maybe forever if she didn’t at least try to bridge the past to the future.

  “I want to make this better,” she cried as Sylvia patted her back.

  “I know. I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.”

  Kathy pulled back. “Just tell me it’s worth the effort. Tell me it will be what I need it to be.”

  Sylvia gave a little laugh. “Only if you tell me that my children will all grow up to be successfully employed, they’ll be madly loved by a wonderful Christian mate, and they’ll always love the Lord.”

  Kathy couldn’t help smiling as she wiped at her tears. “No guarantees, eh?”

  “Not a one.”

  TEN

  KATHY TOSSED AND TURNED IN BED until she decided it was foolish to even try to sleep. The humidity and heat of the night was overpowering any relief the little window fan had to offer. Clad in lightweight sleeping shorts and a tank top, she grabbed her pillow and went out to the porch hammock.

  Maybe the air would somehow be cooler there. Plus, the hammock wasn’t that far from her father’s window and sliding glass door. If he needed something, she’d probably hear him call.

  She settled into the hammock and closed her eyes to the gentle sway. Kyle had bought this hammock for her father as a birthday gift. He had shown up at the farm with the huge box wrapped in comic strip paper. Her father had praised Kyle for not wasting money on wrapping paper and had loved the gift. Just a few short weeks later, Kyle was out of her life. The memories came unbidden.

  “I was wrong to get so angry,” Kyle had said in a husky whisper. “Please forgive me. I love you, Kathy. I’ll wait for you.” He had tried to hold her, but Kathy had pushed him away.

  “Don’t. I don’t want you to wait. I can forgive you for your anger, but not for your lack of understanding.” Kathy knew she had to stand her ground. Kyle wasn’t able to deal with her mother’s illness. The fact that he’d stormed off once before was proof enough.

  “I’m sorry for the way I acted, Kathy. I was in shock. I wish you’d understand that and know that I’m strong enough to help you through this. I do need to consider my career and how to make it all work, but I want to marry you now and help take care of your family.”

  “It’s not your responsibility. In time you would only come to resent us.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say.” He stepped back, the hurt evident in his eyes. “Before your mom took sick, we were about to become a family. . . . Of course they’re as much my responsibility as yours.”

  “But we aren’t getting married. I can’t. I told you that.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t see why you’re doing this. Just tell me to my face that you don’t love me. You owe me that much.”

  “I don’t owe you anything. You walked away—remember?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Only after you demanded I get out of your life. Look, I don’t understand why you can’t marry me and still help your mother. I know you’re hurting and afraid, but you don’t have to take it out on me—on us.”

  Without warning Kyle took her in his arms, and Kathy found herself unable to resist. “I don’t care how long it takes,” he told her. “I don’t care what you say. I’ll wait for you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. The only woman I will ever love.” He kissed her passionately, and Kathy very nearly gave up her resolve to send him away.

  A noise—something creaking—wormed its way into her memory. The damp heavy air seemed to pin her in place. “Who’s there?” she called.

  “It’s just me. Sunny.”

  Kathy yawned and forced herself to sit up. “Is something wrong? Is it Dad?”

  “No. I couldn’t sleep. It was just too hot.”

  Kathy nodded. The backyard light gave enough illumination to allow them to make out each other’s form. Sunny was dressed nearly identically to Kathy and shared the same miserable expression.

  “It’s not much better out here. I’m drenched—whether by sweat or humidity, I can’t say.”

  “I know. Me too.” Sunny slid down the wall and sat on the porch. “I had hoped there’d at least be a breeze out here. California summers never made me so miserable as the ones here.”

  “You lived in California?” Kathy asked. “When?”

  Sunny drew a deep breath. “It was after the trial and my divorce from Mitch. I went there hoping to get together with some friends.”

  “And did you?” Kathy hoped her tone wouldn’t offend. She wanted to better understand her sister.

  “Yeah, for all the good it did.”

  “Can you talk about it? I’d like to know, if you feel like telling the story.”

  “I needed money. There was the money I had saved for the baby, but it wasn’t enough for a lawyer, and I knew I had to divorce Mitch no matter how the trial turned out. Since there were no children involved, it wasn’t that difficult to get some pro bono help. Still, I needed funds in order to make my move to California. That’s when I remembered the trust fund. I was desperate, Kathy. It was
wrong of me to take it, but I wasn’t thinking right at all. I needed money to bury Gary, and I needed money to survive. I didn’t want to take the money. I knew I wasn’t entitled to it.”

  Kathy felt compassion for her sister. The idea of being alone and having to bury a child, divorce your baby’s killer, and endure a court trial was too much for anyone to have to go through.

  “I got my divorce while Mitch was waiting to go to trial. He asked to see me, and because I’ve always been a glutton for punishment, I went. I felt nothing for him. Well, that’s not true. I felt a great deal of hatred. I told him it was a good thing he was behind bars, because if he were out on the street I’d kill him for what he did to our baby—to me. It was the only time I ever felt like he was afraid. He told me how sorry he was—that he never meant to lose his temper. I walked away. I couldn’t stand his apologies. I knew they weren’t sincere.” She paused. “You know how that is. You can generally tell when someone is seriously sorry for what he did.”

  Kathy wondered if her sister was trying to make a point with her about the past, but she said nothing. And in truth she didn’t need to, because Sunny was already talking again.

  “With my divorce final, I went to my bank and told them I had a trust fund in another state. I gave them the information as best I could and they handled the rest of it. A few days later, I had the money in hand. The thing that always amazed me was the paper work that came with that money.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The bank here in Hays contacted Dad. He signed the papers for the money to be transferred and the account to be closed.”

  “What?” Kathy leaned forward. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying Dad knew I was taking the money, but he didn’t protest it. He didn’t have to sign the papers. I was twenty-one. But his friend at the bank let him know where I was, because he knew Dad was worried about me. I always figured Dad did what he did as a way of showing me that he was freely giving me the money once again. It almost made me come home.”

  “I don’t believe this. All these years, he’s never said anything. How could he do that? He didn’t tell me you were alive—he didn’t say a word about the money until later when he needed a new tractor and I suggested he use your trust fund money. He told me he couldn’t because you had it.” Kathy put her hand up to rub her eyes. “I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me.”

  “I don’t either.”

  Kathy barely heard her sister. “Every time I’ve commented on your stealing that money, he’s always told me no—that you had the money with his blessing, but I thought it was just figurative. Like he knew you had taken it but wasn’t going to prosecute you. Therefore he was giving it to you with his blessing.” She sighed and shook her head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

  “It’s all right. Go on with your story. What did you do after you got the money?” Kathy knew the only way to get past the shock was to hear the rest of Sunny’s tale.

  “I bought a cheap car and moved to California. From the frying pan into the fire.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sunny pulled her knees up to her chest and encircled them with her arms. “I hit the floor running when I arrived in LA. I found my friends and easily fell into their lifestyle. They were into partying, and I was into forgetting. I made friends with a guy who had his own band. When he heard I could do keyboards, he asked me to join them. We started playing a few gigs and got to be fairly popular. Somewhere along the way someone got the bright idea to sex up my appearance. I got a whole makeover, including a breast job.”

  “I wondered about that,” Kathy said without thinking.

  Sunny laughed. “I figured it was pretty obvious. Randy loved the change—said people would come just to see me if nothing else.”

  “Randy?”

  “My second husband and the leader of the band,” Sunny said matter-of-factly. “Randy made me feel special—loved. With Randy I finally felt important.”

  “You were important and loved here too,” Kathy said rather snidely. “You were Mom and Dad’s darling sunshine, who could do no wrong.”

  “Well, I never felt like I could measure up to you.”

  “Oh, come on now. You had everyone wrapped around your little finger. You even got our piano teacher to change the day of the recital because it interfered with your cheerleader tryouts. Everyone gave you everything you asked for and more.”

  “You know, Kathy, I don’t know whose childhood you’re describing. It wasn’t mine. At least not the way I remember it. I thought you had it pretty good.”

  “I didn’t have it all that bad. There were times I was jealous of your abilities. You seemed to make good grades without trying and you were popular. Cheerleader, class president, honor roll student, and never without a boyfriend. You know very well I didn’t have any of that.”

  “But did you even want any of that? You were so focused on going into business with Dad that you put off anything else. Well, except for Kyle. Kyle was always there for you.”

  “Yes. Yes, he was.” Kathy sighed. She really didn’t want to regret the way she’d dealt with him, but in light of the present she couldn’t help it.

  “You never cared about cheerleading—you told me that was nonsense,” Sunny added. “So why blame me for enjoying it and wanting it as a part of my life? Actually, you really hurt my feelings back then. I wanted to be a cheerleader for the longest time and you always put me down for it.”

  Kathy tried to remember such an attitude. “I know I made comments about how the cheerleaders just seemed to be using sexuality to stir things up. You always said, ‘If you got it, flaunt it.’ Frankly, I just saw that attitude get you into trouble. And I guess I was probably jealous of the attention you got.”

  “Like I said, I think we’re talking about two different people.” Sunny paused for a moment. “Don’t you see, Kathy? We each have our memories from the past. We saw things through different eyes. It doesn’t mean we’re wrong in how we felt or what we thought—it just means things were altered by our own views. I’m sorry you were jealous, because in my mind you had nothing to be jealous of. I was miserable.”

  Kathy needed to move on to something else in order to keep from saying something hurtful. “Tell me more about Randy. You have a ring on your hand—are you still married to him?”

  “No. We lived hard and partied harder. We did drugs as if it were our job. We were both hooked on cocaine. At first it was just a little here and there at parties and after gigs. Then it gradually became something we couldn’t live without. We used a lot of our money for coke. I lost an amazing amount of weight and thought I looked fantastic. Later, after getting clean, I saw a picture of myself and was shocked. I looked like an old hag. My eyes were sunken, my skin sallow. I was skin and bones, yet my face was puffy.”

  “Do you still use drugs?”

  “No. Like I said, I got clean.”

  “What made you do that? I mean, it doesn’t seem like a very easy thing to quit.”

  “It wasn’t, but I quit because of Randy.”

  Sunny woke up with the worst headache of her life. She’d forgotten to draw the drapes the night before when she and Randy had tumbled into bed, and now an intense morning light threatened to blind her.

  She snuggled down deeper into the covers and Randy’s arms, but something wasn’t right. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew something was very, very wrong. Forcing her eyes open once again, she listened for sounds coming from outside the bedroom. She was extremely paranoid that someone had broken into the house. Worse yet—that the cops were raiding the place.

  “Randy. Randy, wake up.” She shook him while leaning forward to listen. She couldn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Especially since she and Randy had just bought a large amount of cocaine. No doubt someone had told someone else and the word was out. “Randy. Wake up.” She shook him again but reali
zed he wasn’t responding. In fact, he seemed almost stiff to the touch.

  Reality wasn’t registering in any large dose. “How can you sleep at a time like this?” She looked at the alarm clock at the side of the bed. It read four o’clock.

  “Four o’clock?” No way. That meant it was the afternoon. They couldn’t have slept away the entire day. She pushed back her long blond hair and tried to remember what day it was. Saturday, wasn’t it? Yeah. It was Saturday. They’d celebrated their most successful gig ever last night— just the two of them. Things were looking up and they were going places. An agent had taken note of them and wanted to talk next week.

  “Next week,” Sunny said and fell back against the pillows. Her paranoia was fading. There was no sense in getting too uptight. She rolled closer to Randy and snuggled up against him. He didn’t move.

  “Hey, sweetie, wake up. Talk to me,” she murmured against his ear. He was face down on the bed with his nose half buried in the sheets.

  With a start, Sunny realized his eyes were open, but they didn’t seem to see anything. “Randy?” She reached over to touch his face. It was strangely cool. Realization dawned in a terrifying way.

  Pushing away from him, Sunny began to scream. “Randy! Randy!” She leaped out of bed and went around to the other side. She shook him hard, but there was no response. Picking up the phone, she dialed 9-1-1 and began to scream at the operator to send an ambulance.

  She couldn’t stop screaming and was still doing exactly that when the police and paramedics arrived. She had to be put in restraints by the time they loaded her into a second ambulance.

  Randy was dead. They told her later it was a combination of cocaine and alcohol. Worse still, they figured he’d died, probably of a massive heart attack, shortly after collapsing in bed. Sunny couldn’t get the image of Randy out of her mind, nor the idea that she’d slept in the arms of a dead man all night and most of the day.