The priest looked once more at those gathered in the church and nodded his head. “You are dismissed. There will be a procession of vehicles to St. Francis Cemetery on Charlevoix Road just west of town. Maps are available near the doors.” He paused a moment. “Let’s pray.”
Throughout the church people bowed their heads.
“Dear Lord, bless us today with the insight to understand death, to know that it is a necessary passage, a door to a better place. And let us, in our hearts, never forget John Barrett. Let us keep him alive in the love he left behind. And let us always smile when we remember him. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
31
No words were needed as Ellen and her family formed an exclusive circle, exchanging hugs, unaware for the moment of the people milling about them.
“What was it, Jane?” Aaron asked. His glasses were in his suit pocket. “Can you tell us what happened?”
Jane glanced around, then pulled her mother and her siblings into a huddle, away from the milling crowd. She tried to speak and couldn’t. She clasped her throat, as though willing her voice to work.
When the words finally came out, they stunned Ellen. “I … I was raped,” Jane said simply. Her gaze fell to the floor and she allowed the tears once again.
Ellen’s heart sank and Aaron’s face filled with anger. For a moment they were silent as each of them absorbed the blow. Mom closed her eyes, and Ellen wondered if she was imagining her daughter being attacked and grieving that she hadn’t been there to help her.
“Who was it?” Aaron demanded “Do you remember his name, Jane? He should be in jail.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know him. It was the weekend Dad left. After he lost his job.”
“You went to a party in Charlevoix,” Ellen remembered. “When I asked you about it you wouldn’t say anything.”
Jane nodded. “I met some guy and took a walk with him. He … ” She began sobbing and her family closed in tighter around her.
“It’s okay, Jane, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Megan said softly. The others nodded.
“No. You don’t need to know the details, but I have to tell you what happened. Otherwise I might never have another chance. Besides,” she sniffed, “if I tell you what happened I won’t have any reason to hold on to it anymore.”
“Go ahead, dear,” their mother encouraged.
“He—he raped me on a private beach at the end of the street.” She paused, composing herself. “I screamed for Dad, but he was gone. He had left the day before.”
“And you blamed him for not being there when you needed him,” Amy finished and Ellen understood now. As far back as she could remember, their father had always been there for her. But not for Jane. Not that night in Charlevoix.
Jane nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. “I blamed him. But it wasn’t his fault. If I’d told him what happened he would have found the guy and dragged him to the police station himself. I know he would have. But I kept it inside. I didn’t tell anyone until this week, right before I came here. Troy wanted to know why I seemed so … ”
There was raw pain in her eyes and she cried unashamedly. “I was so indifferent. Like I didn’t care. And finally I told him what had happened.”
Ellen closed her eyes. She imagined how it would have hurt their father to know Jane was raped the weekend he disappeared.
Jane looked up through her tears at her family. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt any of you.”
They surrounded her, hugging and holding her, murmuring words of forgiveness and comfort, proclamations of love. They cried because of life and its sometimes cruel hand and because they felt like a family again. Before they were ready to let go, Aaron spoke up.
“I think Dad would have wanted us to pray,” he said. Then, without waiting for a response, he did something none of the others had ever seen him do. He prayed.
“Dear God, thank you for bringing us back together today. Thank you for making us a family.” He paused, his voice choked. “Be with our sister, Jane, and heal her from the scars of what happened … of that terrible night. Help us to follow our father’s example, to love you and each other, even when it isn’t easy. Amen.”
When he finished, Ellen saw that people had gathered some distance away and were waiting for a chance to offer words of condolence. Her mother saw, too.
“Thank you.” Mom looked into the eyes of her children, her face was tearstained but peaceful, as if a great burden had been lifted. “There is no greater gift you could have given your father or me today than to let the barriers between you fall. To finally love each other like you did when you were younger. I know things are different for us all. You’re grown up and you have your own lives. It may be years before we are all together again like this. But after today I will always know that you still love each other. That your father’s love really does live on.”
She smiled then and motioned toward the people waiting for them. “Let’s greet the others. We need to get over to the cemetery.”
They pulled away from one another and turned to acknowledge the family and friends waiting to comfort them. Ellen glanced toward the back of the church and then scanned the rest of the building. Jake was gone.
She sought out Mike then and hugged him tightly. “Everything okay?” He smoothed her hair away from her face and studied her eyes.
Ellen nodded and smiled; she was sure her face was red and swollen from crying. “Yes. It’s going to be just fine.” Later, when they were alone, she would tell him about Jane and together they could pray for her sister.
Mike looked around. “So where’s Jake?”
Ellen shrugged as she searched the church once more. She was disappointed that he had left without saying good-bye. “I guess he’s gone on to the cemetery. I’ll introduce you later.”
For ten minutes Ellen and the others mingled with the group of mourners, comforting and being comforted. Two attendants from the mortuary moved the casket back into the hearse and signaled the funeral coordinator. It was time to leave for the cemetery.
A procession of forty-seven cars made its way to St. Francis Cemetery, winding through town toward Spring Street and then turning right on Charlevoix Road. The park was a mile down the road just past the Knights of Columbus Hall where Ellen’s parents had played bingo occasionally on Wednesday nights.
The cars proceeded into the park and pulled up near a yellow canopy. Clouds still covered the sky but they were breaking up and the sun was peeking through. A fresh breeze drifted off the bay and rustled the leaves of the sturdy maples that lined the cemetery.
The pallbearers gathered at the back of the hearse and carried the casket onto a device that would eventually lower it into the earth. There were six chairs set up before the flower-lined grave and the Barretts each took a seat.
The crowd grew quiet as the priest stepped forward.
“Dear God,” he began, and around him people lowered their heads. “Help us to remember that our bodies are but dust and that to dust we must return. May the soul of John Barrett rest forever in your loving care. Amen.”
Ellen looked across the bay and smiled through eyes damp with tears. She was glad her father’s body would rest in a place overlooking the bay he loved so dearly. She could hear him even now. “Behold, the beautiful bay.”
The priest was speaking tenderly to the crowd. “John Barrett, the John Barrett you know and remember, is not in that casket.” He motioned gracefully with his hand. “Nor will he be buried in this piece of earth. We must remember that this is the resting place for his earthly body only.”
He paused. “When you come here, when you bring flowers and remember him, do not look for him among the dead. Look out across the water and up to the heavens above. He lives in heaven as surely as our dear Lord lives there. And he will always live in the memories you cherish. You are dismissed.”
Everyone except Ellen, her siblings, and their mother stepped away, quietly returning to their cars so t
hey could drive back to the Barrett house. Ellen and the others remained in place, holding hands while their mother lay a single red rose atop the spray of flowers already covering the casket.
“Good-bye, John,” Mom whispered. She touched the casket lightly and then stepped back, returning to her seat.
The priest took Mom’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Call me if you need anything,” he said.
“I will. Thank you.” She smiled, and he turned and left them alone.
The mortuary attendants stood some distance away, discreetly waiting for the family to leave before lowering the casket into the earth.
No one moved for a moment. Ellen stared at the casket, knowing that in some ways, despite the priest’s comforting words, it was her last opportunity to be with her father.
At least in this life.
Finally they stood and without saying a word returned to their cars where Mike and Frank and Troy and the children waited. Only then did Ellen look around and notice that Jake had not followed them to the cemetery.
She wanted to say good-bye to him one last time. But she understood his reason for leaving quietly without her knowledge and she thought again how much he had changed. She stepped over tree roots and onto the sidewalk, walking slowly, remembering. There had been a time when Jake would have gone to any lengths to keep her from loving another man. Now, though he knew she still had feelings for him, he had let her go. He had sent her back into the arms of the man she had married. The man she truly loved with all her heart. It was, in some ways, his final act of love for her. She glanced once more across the bay toward Harbor Pointe. Somewhere along the distant shore stood a gray-and-white Victorian house and a man she could never again go back to. A part of her heart grieved at the thought.
Mike took her hand then, and she smiled up at him, knowing she had made the right choice. As they left the cemetery she was struck by a comforting thought. That week she had visited the people of her past—Jane and the others. Her father. Jake. Leslie. Even God. She had made peace with them all.
Now it was time to go home.
32
Ellen drove Mike to Petoskey’s Pellston Regional Airport where he would take a prop plane to Detroit and catch a jet home. The conversation between them was pleasant, and for the first time since her father’s death, Ellen’s mind was clear and focused on the future.
“I wonder how things are at the paper?” she said absently.
“I’m sure they’re struggling without their ace reporter,” Mike teased. “It’s a wonder they could get by at all without the dirt you dig up for the front page.”
“Stop!” She jabbed him playfully. “Hey, what’s the deal with the rental car again?”
“You and Jane take it back to the airport tomorrow when you fly out. Makes things easier on everyone.”
Ellen nodded. She was quiet for a moment, studying the light traffic and looking for the any airport on their right.
“I guess Jake must have left early,” Mike ventured, glancing at her.
“Hmm. Guess so.”
“You haven’t said much about him, Ellen.” Mike’s voice was curious but without accusation. “Did you see him this week?”
Ellen remained focused on the road ahead of her. “Yes. A few times.”
Mike waited.
She wanted to brush it off, to tell Mike it was no big deal. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t going to hide anything from him. Not now. Okay, Lord. Help me say this right. “I spent time with him, Mike. In some ways it helped me, because he was my sounding board, an old friend for me to lean on. But in other ways … ” Her voice trailed off. She glanced at him, and the patience and trust she saw on his face encouraged her. “In other ways, I felt very confused. Jake listened to me. He showed me he cared in very tangible ways. And that felt good.”
“What are you saying, Ellen?” Mike studied her but there was no accusation in his voice. “Are you in love with him?”
The question stunned her, but not nearly so much as the answer that resonated within her. “No.” She smiled then and met his gaze. “No, Mike, not at all. There’s only one man I’m in love with, and he’s in this car.” She focused on the road again. “Jake knows that, too. I told him.”
He reached out to take her hand. “That’s all I need to know for now, Ellen,” he said, and her love for him grew even deeper.
“There’s more I need to tell you—”
He smiled. “Don’t worry about it for now. You have other things to think about. When you get home, we’ll talk.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll pray then. And we’ll be okay.”
Ellen nodded and a peace that could only be described as divine filled her heart. They had been the most difficult seven days of her life, but in the end the past week had made her and Mike love each other again. More than that, it had restored their faith. Suddenly their future seemed alive with hope.
She spotted the airport then and pulled off the highway. In two minutes they were at the front entrance. She leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss good-bye.
“Tomorrow evening, five-thirty, right?” he asked.
“Right. I’m anxious to be home.”
Mike caressed her face. “I know it’s been a hard week for you, Ellen. I’ll be glad when you’re home.”
She paused. “I really love you, Mike.”
“I love you, too. See you tomorrow.”
He kissed her again and then disappeared into the airport.
Casseroles and sliced meat, breads and salads, desserts and a dozen different dishes were spread out along the Barrett family dining room table when Ellen returned.
As she entered the house she realized that something had changed. The somber gloom that had hung over them at the funeral and later at the cemetery had disappeared. Instead there was laughter and conversation as people swapped fun-filled stories about John Barrett, remembering the good times.
Ellen realized then that there would always be sadness over her father’s death, but there would also be times of celebration in remembering his life.
She smiled and joined in the conversation. This was one of those times.
Ellen and her family were about to share a final breakfast together before everyone went their separate ways. Conversation was pleasant among them and the tension that had plagued them all week had disappeared. Ellen guessed she had five minutes before it was time to eat and she disappeared to her parents’ bedroom.
Thumbing through her purse she found what she was looking for and dialed the long-distance number.
“Hello?”
“Leslie, it’s me, Ellen.”
“Ellen, how are you? I’ve been thinking about you constantly. How was the funeral?”
“Amazing. I’ll call you when I get home and tell you all about it. Listen, I only have a minute, but I wanted to tell you about Jake. Everything worked out okay, Leslie.” She paused as a lump formed in her throat at the thought of her long-lost friend praying for her on the phone earlier that week. “Thanks for praying.”
“I’m not surprised,” Leslie said, a smile in her tone. “God wasn’t going to let you go, no matter how confused you felt. What about Mike?”
“He came. It was … amazing. We talked and prayed together and worked things out. Or we started to. We need the Lord in our marriage, Leslie, just like you said. We’re going to start going to church again as soon as I get home.”
“Oh, Ellen, I’m so glad. Hey, let’s not let so much time pass before we talk again. Okay?”
“Okay. And thanks again. For praying, I mean. I think I know what would have happened otherwise. Remember that Scripture in 1 Corinthians, you know, the one about temptation?”
“ ‘God will not let you be tempted beyond what you can stand, but when tempted he will also provide a way out.’ ”
“That’s the one. It was sure true this week. You prayed and God showed me a way out.”
“It’s a battle, Ellen. Prayer is our most powerful weapon. Don’t forget that.”
The conversation ended and Ellen returned to the table to join the others for breakfast.
“I’m stuffed,” Ellen said thirty minutes later. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, glanced at her watch, and turned to Jane. “I think we’d better get going. Our planes leave in six hours and we’ll need time to check in.”
Their bags were already packed, lined up near the door, and Troy began loading them into the rental car. When he finished he buckled the children into the backseat and stood by the car waiting for Jane and Ellen.
Megan approached her sisters and smiled, her eyes brimming with tears. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry today and I’m not.” She hugged each of her sisters. “I love you guys. Write, okay?”
Ellen and Jane nodded, their eyes damp.
“And you come out and visit sometime,” Jane told her. “The kids would love to spend a week with their Aunt Megan.”
“Hey, Megan, it was too crazy yesterday to tell you, but thanks for that song,” Ellen said. “Dad would have loved it.”
Amy left Frank at the table and moved to join her sisters. “I feel like we should have another week together now that everyone’s getting along.” She smiled sadly, hugging Ellen and Jane.
“Now, let’s not push our luck,” Jane said. The others realized she was joking and they formed a circle then, laughing because it was easier than giving in to the flood of tears they each held back.
“Remember how we used to be when we’d leave some city and move across the country?” Ellen asked. They remained in a tight cluster, thinking back. “The four of us girls. I thought we’d be like that forever.”
“Me, too,” Megan added.
A Kingsbury Collection Page 34