She remained silent, thinking there were too many things to say, and yet nothing would form on her lips.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to you on the farm?” he asked.
She turned her head back to the darkening field. “Not now,” she said. “But maybe one day.”
He nodded. “I know he wasn’t the man you wanted him to be. It’s a hard lesson to find out. Just promise me you won’t let your heart grow cold like mine.”
Pearl shivered. Her father slipped off his light coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“I know I hurt you and Billy,” he said. “And I will go the rest of my life repenting that. But one thing to know, Pearl, is that I hurt, too.”
Pearl pulled the coat tight over her shoulders.
“I miss her every day,” he said, settling back into his chair. “I don’t know what would have come of us. Maybe we would have worked it out. Either way, I know I would have loved her the rest of my life.”
“I miss her, too,” Pearl said.
Her father looked at her and nodded.
“I dream about her,” Pearl admitted. “I thought they were just dreams anyway, but now I’m not sure.”
Her father’s eyebrow rose. “How so?”
She shrugged. “They feel so real.” She reflected on the last dream she had of her mother. It was several nights ago, but still she could hear her mother’s voice so clearly. She had felt her mother’s fingers in her hand as they held on to each other, and heard her mother’s high giggles as they twirled together.
“She told me I need to forgive him,” Pearl said. She looked to her father’s astonished face. “Do you think she means you?”
His mouth dropped open. He closed it and turned his damp eyes to the view of the field before them. “I sure hope so.”
There was work to be done. A deep tear between her father and herself that would take time to repair. It would be hard, and it was going to hurt. She didn’t know how long it would take. What she did know was that she couldn’t run.
Pearl watched her father, and with one hand she reached her hand out to him and gave her mother her last wish.
CHAPTER 26
Several weeks passed before Pearl got up the courage to write Vernie the letter she needed to send. She had to find her truths, and that was more difficult than Pearl had imagined.
She told Vernie of her mother, how she had died the night Pearl watched her run. How her father had lied to protect her, and that she understood the courage it took to tell people the truth even if they didn’t want to hear it. She told Vernie she missed Oregon, if only for her, and for Ben. She was sorry for not telling Vernie about Ben. She told Vernie that she’d filled that void only a mother can provide. She said she dreamed about her nights on the porch with Virginia, and had a little sip of moonshine every now and then in her honor. She said she hoped to see Vernie again, if only for a moment to give her the hug goodbye she never got to give.
Pearl finished her letter, and with one last touch she added her return address. It was a glimmer of hope that she would hear from Vernie again. She’d debated sending Ben a letter as well, but knew what was done was done. She had wrapped Ben up in her web of madness, and he deserved better. There wasn’t a moment that passed when she didn’t think about him. But she buried it away for her times of quiet when she could reflect back with a tear and a smile.
One of the first things she did when she was back on her feet was file for divorce from Roy. It wasn’t hard, since they had no assets and she wanted nothing from him. She was ready to put him in the past. Chalk him up to a lesson learned. She could be angry with him, or she could be grateful to him. Without him she would have never learned how to speak her mind, to know truly what she wanted out of life and out of a man. And it wasn’t him.
Her only sadness was turning away from the life she had built in Oregon. She had blossomed on the farm with the help of Vernie, Sammie, and Ben. She missed Sammie’s boisterous friendship and wished desperately to see her become a mother. She craved Vernie’s wit and fierce protection. And Ben—she dared not to even count what she missed. The list would be endless, and she would be broken by the end of it.
A turning point came when her father took her and Billy to her mother’s grave. Standing by the cement block, Pearl expected to feel sadness, to want to dig up the grass and crawl beneath the dirt to carry her mother out. But instead, seeing it brought a warm sense of peace over her. It was finally real. She could finally absorb it and let it go. She stared at her mother’s grave, feeling the overall relief that she could finally stop searching. No more looking behind corners to see if her mother was there. No more waiting by the window to see if her mother would return. No more wishing for dreams where she could see her because it was the only vision she held on to. No more feelings of unworthiness and rejection.
Once she let it go, it was amazing the tranquility that came over her, and with that the flood of memories that seeped through.
There was a new ritual at bedtime with Billy. He would finish his books, alone as he had become accustomed to, and then she would come in to say goodnight, and they would end up talking well past bedtime as she would share with him the stories that came back to her.
“I thought of a new one today,” Pearl said.
Billy snuggled down in his blue striped flannel sheets, which matched his pajamas perfectly.
She sat on his bed, her knees tucked to her side as she leaned on her elbow.
“Am I in the story?” Billy asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.
“You are.” She smiled. “Mom always loved to look at the stars, and one night we were sitting out on a blanket sometime in the summer. I remember it was horribly hot, and when the sun set we would head outside for the desert breeze. Dad was there, and you were just a baby and slept on Mom’s belly as we lay out and looked at the sky. Mom pointed to a star. It was bright and rich yellow that made it stand out from the other whiter stars. Mom told us that it was her most favorite star because it had a secret. This star, named Capella, was one of the brightest and looked like one huge star, but really it was four.”
Billy smiled. “Cool. Why does it look like one?”
Pearl shrugged. “She said that’s the magic in it. She said you can’t just be bright on your own—you need a team. She said we were like Capella in that there were four of us and that made us brighter and better than any of the other stars that only had one.”
Billy’s smile quickly faded into a frown. “But what if there are only three?”
Pearl reached out and tousled his freshly bathed golden hair. “There are still four of us, kiddo. Mom is just somewhere else, keeping the star lit for us.”
Billy’s smile returned as he nestled back into his pillow.
Pearl flicked off the light and closed the door. She was startled to see her father standing in the hall, watching her.
“I remember that story,” he said. He leaned against the wall, his arms loose in his jeans pockets. “Sounds like your memory is getting stronger.”
She braced herself against Billy’s door. “Do you listen to us every night?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Most. I like it. Some stories I remember, some are new.”
“You don’t have to stand in the hallway,” she said.
“No, I think it’s important that you and Billy have your time. You’ve always been your own team.”
She heard the sadness in his voice. “We are a team, too, Dad.”
He pushed off the wall and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. They walked down the steps. “I know that, kiddo. It’s nice to have you around again.”
They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, just before the front entrance.
She pulled back from him and said, “I bet we could find Capella tonight.”
“I bet you’re right.” He smiled. They kept the lights out and walked out to the edge of the patio. They searched in silence, staring at the mass of endless stars.
“A
h,” her father said, pointing upward. “It’s faint, but I see her.”
Pearl leaned against her dad and followed his finger.
“Right there, near the tip of Auriga. It’s pretty dim, better to see in the wintertime.”
Pearl squinted at the stars until a yellowish tinge of brightness popped out. “I can see it!”
Her father dropped his hand, crossing his arms gently over his broad chest. “Your mother would be happy,” he said. “Looking at the stars was one of her favorite things to do.”
“I remember,” Pearl said.
“I’m glad you do.”
Her father looked down at her smile and chuckled. “That’s a nice sight.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I’m happy, Dad,” she assured him. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Oh,” he said, “just wait ’til you’re a parent, which thankfully you aren’t yet. An early marriage was enough to give your old man a heart attack.”
Pearl cringed. She felt so isolated from her life in Oregon—it was at times hard to remember she’d ever gotten married.
“Worst part was I wasn’t there to see it,” he said.
She matched his stance, folding her arms across her chest. They both looked out at the sky, not wanting to meet each other’s eyes. “There wasn’t much to see.”
He sighed. “What about now, Pearl? You’re home. Are you staying? Have you thought about what you want to do?”
She thought for a moment, and then tested the idea that had been floating in her head. “I’d like to work with horses.”
His gaze darted from the sky as he turned to look at her. “Horses? So that part of the story must have been true?”
“Yeah, that part was true,” she admitted. “I learned how to ride.” Her voice dropped. She didn’t want to meet her father’s gaze.
“Roy teach you?”
She shook her head. “No, Roy didn’t know. I had a friend.” She paused, afraid to go further to show any emotion in the word. “Anyway, riding is what kept me sane.” She turned to look at her dad. “It was amazing. And the connection I felt with the horse was unbelievable. I miss it.”
Her father thought a moment. “Well, okay. I suppose you need to look into some horse ranches here. What would you do?”
She shrugged. “Anything. I’d clean the manure and feed and groom them—I don’t care. Maybe there’s something I can study, like at college?” She eyed his reaction. “I was thinking of maybe going back to school, possibly an equestrian degree?”
“You have thought about it.” He grinned proudly. “At least something good came out of Oregon, didn’t it?”
She turned from his prying eyes and didn’t respond. It was a question too tangled to answer.
But her answer did come a couple weeks later. She heard the sharp knock on the front door from her bedroom and peeked out her window to see a car she didn’t recognize. She ignored the muffled voices and went back to sorting through the old photo albums her father had hidden deep in his closet. She picked up a picture of herself as a baby. She smiled at her bald head and big lips and at the young blonde woman who cradled her with all the blissful gaze a mother could muster.
A soft knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see her father standing in the doorway, a smile on his face.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You have a visitor.”
Pearl scowled. “I don’t know anyone.”
“Look,” he said, walking into her room and taking a seat on the bed. “Apparently you sent a letter off.”
Pearls eyes widened. “Vernie’s here?”
Her father looked confused. “No, but that’s who you wrote, right?”
She nodded, now fearing it was Roy at the door, wanting to whisk her up and take her back to the farm.
“Well, after you wrote to her, a young man wrote me.”
Pearl caught her breath.
“It began with him just looking out for you, wanting to make sure you got home safe, and that you were okay. I wrote back saying that you were and it just sort of avalanched from there.” His gaze sharpened. “Do you know who I’m talking about?”
Pearl nodded, her voice caught in her throat.
“I’ll tell you, kiddo, if Roy had half the guts and chivalry this man does, I wouldn’t have thought twice about you running off to Oregon.” He chuckled lightly. “Well, once you started talking about riding, I could tell you were missing more than just horses, so when he asked if he could visit, I couldn’t turn him down.”
Pearl jumped from the chair at her desk, not stopping once to glance at herself in the mirror before bolting through her door and to the stairs. She stood at the top of the steps, taking a deep breath as she took in the sight of familiar work boots and tattered Levi’s. As she descended the steps, he came more into focus, from his crisp white T-shirt up to his tanned strong shoulders to his taut jaw and soft smile as his eyes finally met hers.
“Ben,” she whispered as she took her last step and stood before him. “What are you…but whose car…how did you…”
He smothered a laugh. “It’s my mom’s car. Better gas mileage.” He smiled. “It’s good to see you, too.”
She wanted to reach out and embrace him, to feel his soft skin with her fingers. But the pending looks from Billy and her father made her uncomfortable.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she said, taking his arm and leading him out the door.
They strolled along the path of the dirt field, drifting down the road and toward the bend. They made their small talk until the house was out of sight and their voices could no longer be heard by prying ears. Ben stopped and turned to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She went willingly, falling into his arms as he pressed himself to her.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said.
He searched her eyes. “Did you think I could really let you go?”
She pushed back. “Ben, don’t,” she said. “It could never work. I’m not going back to Oregon.”
He grabbed her hand, bringing her back to him. “I’m not asking you to.”
Her head tilted in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
He sighed. “Look, I thought I had it all fine until you came along. I was doing my own thing, minding my own life. Not in love with it, but content, going through the motions. And then I met you.” He smiled, sheepishly. “I wasn’t looking to fall in love with a married woman, believe me. But when I saw you get up and ride, even after you had been beaten down, I couldn’t help but fall in love with the way your eyes lit up when you rode. It made me rethink about why I did it, what made me love riding in the first place. I got to see it all through you.” He paused at her hesitant stare. “Pearl, you could have let what was happening with Roy crush you, break your spirit. But instead you found a way to grab hold of that inner rage and turn it into something beautiful. The way you lit up when you rode made me love it again. Made me love you. And when you left…” He shook his head. “I was afraid I’d lose it again, but really, I was just afraid to lose you.”
She reached a hand to his face. “Do you have any idea what you’ve taught me?” she asked. “You showed me what it means to love someone. To respect the person you love, and gave me the freedom to discover who I was. You were patient with me. You never asked for anything from me. I wasn’t used to that. It was terrifying.” She paused. “I forced myself to not think about you, because leaving you was harder than anything I’ve done. But I needed to do it for me. I needed to see that I can be strong without relying on anyone but myself.”
Ben nodded. “I know that. I knew it even in the beginning, but when I saw Vernie and she showed me your letter, I knew I couldn’t sit back and always wonder what would have happened if I’d never tried.”
Pearl looked away from him, tears building in her eyes. She had poured her heart out in a way she had never done before. For the first time she had been the most truthful, most sincere about her emotions.
And the dreadful part was still to come. She would have to say goodbye to Ben again.
“There’s no place for you here, Ben. I won’t let you just waste away here, not living your own dreams, just to stay with me.”
“What if I told you I wasn’t here just for you?”
Her eyes flashed to his. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m also here to look at some property for sale. Not right here but just outside of Tucson.”
She cocked a brow. “For sale?”
He smiled. “See, Pearl, I am here to live my dream. I found some acres that would be perfect to start a little dude ranch.”
Pearl gasped. A smile crept back over her lips.
“Would you want to take a little trip and check it out with me?” he asked.
All of Pearl’s uncertainty dissolved. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. She held on, not because she needed him, but because she wanted him. And she would allow herself this luxury of pleasure that she had been denying too long.
Every lesson, every hardship had taken her to this moment. To the place where she could take a deep breath and let it all release. It was a time to be grateful for every wound and every scar, every tear she’d shed, and every night she lost sleep over the trials in her life. Without the hell she had been through, would she know just how sweet the other side was? Would she appreciate the warmth in Ben’s eyes, had she not been staring at the coal-black soul of a monster? Would she love Billy any more had her mother been alive and Pearl not been expected to raise him? Would life look any less beautiful if she didn’t know the dark and gloomy days? How blessed she was to know that her life was molded by her hands. She would take all those punishing days for the glorious ones ahead. She had no fear, no regrets, and no pent-up anger for the things in her past that she could not control. She felt light, carefree, and could laugh at the test of challenges that lay ahead. She cracked open her shell and swam free to the water’s surface. She knew nothing could stop her, nothing would hinder her, and nothing could break her down. She was that strong. That was what it took to be happy. That was what it meant to be a survivor.
Pearl Page 23