A Long Way From Eden

by Jana Richards

  "I don't know exactly, she wouldn't say." Maria took another sip. He could tell from the way she avoided eye contact that she didn't want to tell him any more.

  "Maria please, if you know something, tell me. I need to know if she's all right."

  She reached across the table and touched his hand. "Meg told me she has to deal with some things that happened a long time ago. You'll just have to trust her."

  He leaned back against the red leatherette and nodded. He loved Meg. He loved her enough that he was willing to accept whatever she was able to give him, even if it was only a tiny piece of her heart. But it still hurt to know that he was only second best. "She really can't get over him, can she?"

  "You mean Tommy's father?" Maria shook her head. "I think things were not as rosy as Meg tried to make us think."

  Zane stared at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

  "Just a feeling." She shook her head again. "When she came here to work at the restaurant all those years ago, I was sure that she was a runaway. She had that scared look in her eye, and she always seemed to be looking over her shoulder as if half-expecting someone to snatch her away. When I confronted her she denied it, claiming that she was twenty-one and hadn't run away from anything. She told us the story about how Tommy's father and both sets of parents had died in that plane crash. At the time she convinced me, but now I'm not so sure. I think she was abused."

  "Abused?" Zane's heart stopped in his chest. He had a mental picture of a faceless man striking Meg, hurting her, and all reason fled. His hands fisted and his blood boiled.

  "I don't know for sure," Maria quickly added. She caught Zane's fist. "The only thing I know for sure is that she loves you. She told me so."

  Zane leaned back against the red leatherette once more, his head bowed. She loves you. He lifted Maria's hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "Thank you for telling me that."

  Maria smiled. "Do you feel the same way?"

  "Yeah, I feel the same way."

  "Good. If you've got that, nothing else matters."

  * * * *

  The house was ablaze in lights when Zane got home. Tom and Erin were in the kitchen fixing a snack, with the baby observing from her little lounging chair. Zane tossed his duffel bag in a corner of the room.

  "Hi kids. How's everything going?"

  "We're good, Dad," Erin said, coming forward to give him a hug. "I'm so sorry about your father. You never had a chance to get to know him."

  "Thanks honey. But at least I got a chance to meet him, and I've discovered a whole new family I never knew I had."

  He told them about Nathan and Sylvie and the boys, as well as Clayton's brother Ron. "I'd love for you two to come out with me to Vancouver to meet them next summer."

  Erin smiled. "I'd like that."

  Zane looked at Tom. "Have you heard from your mother?"

  "No, not for a couple of days or so. I kind of assumed she was with you in Vancouver. Didn't she go this time?"

  Zane sighed. "No, not this time."

  "Is something wrong?"

  He told them about his conversation with Maria. "I've tried calling her on Maria's cell phone, but I haven't been able to get through." He looked towards the sliding glass doors. "The wind's picked up. It's supposed to snow overnight."

  Tom sat down at the table next to Zane, his face anxious. "I don't think Mom's ever driven on the highway before. She only got her driver's license a year before I did. She doesn't like to drive in the winter."

  "Come on, you two," Erin said, sliding an arm around Tom's shoulders. "Meg is a very smart woman. If the weather turns bad she's going to find a nice warm motel to stay in until things are better. Everything's going to be fine."

  Zane forced a smile, grateful for his daughter's optimism. "Erin's right. Meg will be fine."

  But as he watched the snow swirl into drifts outside the kitchen window he wished he could be as sure.

  * * * *

  Meg had one more stop to make in Eden before she could leave, a stop that would test her courage to its fullest. She told herself she was no longer a fifteen year old girl, but a mature, strong woman who had withstood tough times and made a good life for herself and her son. There was nothing her father could do or say that could hurt her any more. He no longer had any power over her.

  It took only a few moments to drive across town to her parents' home. The old two-story house looked almost the same as it had twenty years ago, except for the addition of a wheelchair ramp leading onto the wide front veranda. The ramp reminded Meg that her parents were now quite elderly and probably wouldn't be around much longer. Perhaps it was time to put the past to rest. Maybe they could salvage some kind of relationship.

  She knocked on the front door and in a few moments the veranda light switched on. The door opened and through the storm door, Meg saw her mother. Mary Brown appeared frail, and smaller than she remembered, as if she had shrunken with age. Mary squinted at her through large, round glasses.

  "Yes? Can I help you?"

  "It's me, Mom. Can I come in?"

  Mary's hand flew to her mouth and for a second she stood staring at Meg. She fumbled with the latch on the storm door.

  "Maggie? Is that you?"

  Meg stepped inside and looked around. Nothing much had changed. The same furniture, with the exception of a relatively new leather recliner, occupied the living room. The same knick-knacks decorated the walls and lined her mother's curio cabinet. The only thing that had changed much was her mother. Mary wrung her hands, looking ill at ease. Her gaze darted repeatedly towards the back hallway.

  "Can I get you some tea, or coffee?" she asked, though Meg got the distinct impression she wasn't anxious to have her stay.

  "No thanks. Is Dad home?"

  "He's resting right now. He wouldn't like to be disturbed." Mary paced anxiously. "Why have you come back after all these years?"

  Meg examined her mother's lined and nervous face, wondering why she thought anything might have changed. "I came back because I was tired of all the secrets and lies I've told over the years. And because there's someone I care for."

  She stopped and reassessed her words and feelings. She more than cared for Zane. She was in love with him. He was the other half of her soul.

  "Because there's someone I love and want a future with. But I can't have that until I face my past. Why did you never help me, Mom? You knew what Paul was doing and still you let Dad take me back to him. Why didn't you do something?"

  Mary closed her eyes. "I couldn't go against your father's wishes."

  "Even though you knew my husband was beating me?"

  "He always said, 'A woman belongs with her husband'."

  "No matter what," Meg added.

  "Yes, no matter what. He looked for you when you left the last time, but then after Paul died he didn't see much point in it anymore. He said we would wash our hands of you after that."

  "And you always do what Dad tells you to do."

  "I'm a good wife."

  "A frightened wife," Meg said with a sigh. "Were you afraid he'd hit you if you tried to help me?"

  Mary gave her an indignant glare. "Your father has never once struck me."

  "An abuser doesn't always need to use his fists. But the results are just as devastating. You haven't asked me once about your grandson or what we've been doing or where we've lived all these years. If you don't care for me, don't you at least have some feelings for him?"

  Mary's expression wavered, as if she were torn between loyalties. "How is Timmy?"

  "He's fine. He goes by his middle name now, Thomas. We call him Tom. And I go by Meg. When we left I had to go into hiding and change our names to keep Dad from finding us."

  "You shouldn't have come here. You should have stayed away." She whispered hoarsely, her face full of fear. "If your father finds out you're here, he'll be angry."

  "He'll take it out on you I suppose," Meg said with a sigh. Even though her mother had never tried to protect her, she ha
d no wish to cause her any additional pain. "I'll go. Good luck, Mom." She turned to leave.

  "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

  Meg turned to find her father glaring at her from his wheelchair. Despite his frail appearance, anger radiated from him, hitting her with its venom. She marveled that after all these years he still hated her this much.

  "Hello Dad."

  "I asked you what you're doing here?"

  "I came to Eden to ask Paul for a divorce. I didn't know that he'd died fifteen years ago. I want to marry again."

  Her father laughed but the sound was bitter. "All these years he's been dead and you didn't know. You stupid girl. Even if Paul was still alive your marriage was legally over. You hadn't lived together for years. You've been free all this time and you didn't know it."

  The idea had simply never occurred to her. She had thought herself tied to Paul by marriage and believed there was no way around it. For many years she'd been too frightened to seek legal counsel, and then as years went by, she'd never had a reason to want to be free. The situation struck her as ironically funny and she began to laugh.

  "Well, thanks for telling me Dad. I guess you trained me too well. I'd been so bullied and beaten that I thought my only option was to hide. But I'm free now."

  "You've got a lot of nerve coming here after what you did." He wheeled himself closer to her. "You shamed this family by lying with that boy and you shamed us again by running away."

  "And you shamed yourself by bullying us into a marriage neither of us was ready for, by bullying your wife until she's not much more than a frightened rabbit."

  Joseph Brown's face turned bright red with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that. I'm your father. You owe me your respect."

  Meg shook her head. Suddenly everything was so clear. "No, I owe you nothing. You see, I've finally discovered what a real father is like. A real father loves his child no matter what. You only loved me when I did exactly what you wanted me to do."

  "You're no better than a whore," he spat.

  The words still hurt, much as they had when she'd first heard them at fifteen. But they also convinced her that running away had been the only option, not only for her and Tommy's physical safety, but also for their emotional well being. If they'd continued to live here under her father's oppressive anger, they might have ended up as withered and frightened as her mother. Any guilt she'd once felt for taking Tommy away from his family evaporated.

  "Goodbye, Mom and Dad. You don't have to worry. I won't ever come back here again."

  She quickly left the house. As she ran back to the car she could hear her father's angry curses trailing after her. But despite his venom, she felt lighter, as if a burdensome weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She'd stood up to her father and found that he was just a pathetic old man who could no longer hurt her.

  A refrain sang over and over in her heart on the long drive home. I'm free, I'm free, I'm free.

  * * * *

  She pulled into Zane's driveway at six-thirty the next morning. The drive home through snow and icy roads had been long and frightening, and she was exhausted.

  She sat with the car idling for a moment, afraid of what her reception might be when Zane found her on his doorstep. Maybe she was crazy to have come here. Maybe she should go to her apartment or to the restaurant and try to contact him later. Or maybe, a little voice in her head whispered, you should tell him you love him and find out if he can ever forgive you.

  She turned off the ignition and opened the door. A blast of cold wind greeted her as she stepped from the car. The house was quiet, but through the sidelights at the front door, she could see that several lights burned. Someone was awake.

  Meg rapped on the door, not wanting to ring the bell and wake the whole house. She braced herself as she heard the metallic click of the deadbolt. A moment later Zane stood in the doorway, his hair mussed and his robe untied. He stared at her for a moment before taking her arm and pulling her inside.

  "Where the hell have you been? I've been calling Maria's cell phone all night." He pushed the front door closed with a slam, before turning to glare at her.

  "Maria's cell phone?" For a moment Meg drew a blank before she remembered the phone tucked into her purse. She pulled it out and looked at it, realizing she'd never turned it on. "I forgot I had it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

  Zane gave a strangled laugh and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Worried? That doesn't begin to describe what I've been going through. I didn't know whether you had trouble on the road or if something happened to you in Eden."

  He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I was afraid you weren't coming back."

  "Oh Zane." She touched his cheek with her gloved hand. "How could I not come back? My whole life's here." You're here, she added silently. "I had to come here to your house and try to explain. I've lied about so many things. I need to tell you the truth."

  He stared at her for several moments, his expression not giving away his feelings. "All right," he said with a curt nod. "Wait for me in my office and I'll bring some coffee. Have you eaten?"

  "No, but--"

  He ignored her. "I'll bring you something to eat." With that, he turned and headed to the kitchen. Meg watched him disappear into the other room before taking off her coat and boots She walked slowly to his office where she sat on the sofa and leaned back against the soft cushions. The next thing she knew Zane was gently touching her shoulder.

  "You're tired. We can talk later."

  "No, please." Meg sat up and got her bearings. "I've been thinking about this all night. Please listen."

  "Okay. But first you have to eat."

  He'd brought her a toasted bagel with cream cheese, along with slices of melon and a cup of coffee fixed with milk, just the way she liked it. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation, and she realized she hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day. Zane always instinctively knew what she needed. She hoped he realized that what she really needed was him.

  He leaned casually against his desk while she ate her breakfast, sipping his coffee in apparent calm. Only the restless tap of one finger against his desk alerted Meg that he was just as anxious about this conversation as she was. At last she put down her coffee mug and set aside the tray. "I guess I should start at the beginning."

  He nodded and Meg cleared her throat. "I grew up in a small town of maybe five hundred people in Saskatchewan. I was happy. I went to school, took piano lessons, attended church. My father was adamant that we go to church every Sunday. He was strict about everything, but as long as I did everything he wanted, things were fine.

  "When I was fifteen a boy named Paul Clifford started paying a lot of attention to me. He was two years older and his father was a deacon in our church. The Cliffords were important people in Eden. My father was flattered that Paul was paying attention to me, and at first so was I. He was very good looking, a terrific athlete and popular with everyone. My only claim to fame was that I played the piano at morning assembly for the singing of 'O Canada'.

  "But then Paul started pressuring me for sex. I was just a kid and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't ask my mother and I didn't want to lose Paul. I thought I loved him and I thought he loved me. Pretty soon I found out I was pregnant."

  Meg paused, taking a deep breath. This was territory she rarely ventured into, the memories painful and humiliating. She remembered the awful names her father had called her when she had to tell her parents that she was pregnant, and she also remembered the slap across the face her father gave her that snapped back her head and brought her to her knees. Her eyes stung with tears but she refused to give in to them.

  Zane seemed to understand. "Take your time," he said reassuringly.

  Meg took a deep breath. "My father insisted that Paul marry me and his father agreed. My mother was too afraid to voice any opposition. The only person who didn't want us to get married was Paul's mother, because she thought I was ruining his
life. I suppose she was right."

  "What about you and Paul? Did you want to get married?" Zane asked. Meg noted the tight clench of his jaw.

  "I wasn't even sixteen yet. I wanted to finish high school and go on to university and get a music degree. Paul just wanted to be free, and to have his old life back. But our fathers wouldn't listen to us. They only wanted to fix the problem we'd created."

  Zane frowned. "For the first time I really understand why you didn't want our kids to get married."

  "Maybe if I'd told you from the beginning we could have avoided a whole lot of pain."

  "How could you tell me back then? You didn't even know me, and besides, I wasn't exactly being reasonable."

  Meg nodded, knowing he was right. He probably wouldn't have listened to her at that point anyway.

  "What happened then?" he asked when she lapsed into silence.

  "Things weren't too bad at first. Paul went to work in his father's hardware store. I stayed home and played house. But when Tommy was born a few months later, Paul began to change. He stayed out with his friends and got drunk, coming home in the middle of the night and wanting--" She was unable to finish the sentence.

  "If I said no, he'd hit me. He started to hit me regularly. He hated me. I was the reason he had to quit school, I was the reason he was stuck in a dead-end job. I was the reason for everything that was wrong in his life. He once twisted my arm so badly that he broke it. My father took me to the hospital in Regina. When the doctors questioned me about it, he denied anything was wrong. As soon as they set the arm he took me home, back to Paul."

  Zane's eyes blazed with anger, but he kept silent.

  Meg looked away, concentrating on the potted plant in the window. She needed to get it all out. "Right after that I ran away for the first time. I took Tommy and caught a ride with a neighbor into Regina. My father found me and dragged me home. He said I'd made my bed and I had to lie in it. I knew then I had to fear my father just as much as Paul.

  "When Tommy was nearly two, Paul beat me so badly I thought he was going to kill me. After that he left me alone for a while. Maybe he was afraid he actually would kill me.