A Mother at Heart

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Miriam drew in a long breath to compose herself and then looked up at Donna. “After she got married, the relationship faded away.”

  “I imagine.” Donna took another sip of coffee, but held Miriam’s gaze. “You know, when I saw you sitting here with Jake, it seemed just like old times.”

  “That’s all they are, Donna—old times,” Miriam said sharply. Donna’s words struck too close to her own yearning. It had been hard to acknowledge Jake’s marriage to Paula, but it was all the harder now that Paula had passed away. If Paula were still alive, Jake wouldn’t be available.

  Donna looked taken aback at Miriam’s harsh tone. “I know that. It’s just that we used to see you guys together all the time. That’s all.”

  “I’m sorry, Donna. It’s been so strange coming back here. Everything’s changed so much.”

  Except that it was much the same, Miriam thought as she and Donna quietly sipped their coffee. Looking at Donna somehow made her realize what she had lost when she’d left. This place where she had grown up suddenly seemed secure, unchanging. Here were people who cared. She had been hugged more in the past two days than she had been in years. More people had asked with sincerity how she was doing.

  For the past few years she had been only a face, a body, an object. No one seemed to care about her soul, her heart.

  “You’ve changed, too. I remember the first time your face showed up on the front cover of a magazine. It was the talk of the town.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  “Oh, don’t get all huffy with me. That’s what Waylen is like. People are nosy, but they care.” Donna grinned at her. “And now, you owe me. Big time.” Donna tilted her head, her tone full of meaning. “You don’t write, you don’t phone. So spill. What happened with you and Jake? What have you been doing? What is your life like? How’s your mom?”

  In spite of the sorrow raised by Donna’s questions, Miriam felt an easing of the tension that had gripped her since she’d come here. Easygoing, straightforward Donna never pulled any punches, never minced words. Never judged.

  “My mom died six months ago.” Again Miriam stopped, swallowing hard.

  “Oh, Miriam. I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Miriam said, her voice shaky as Donna’s hand squeezed hers tightly. “It’s like each time I tell someone, I relive her death.” She stopped, taking in a deep breath. “It was hard, but I think she was ready. She died quite peacefully.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Donna said, stroking her arm with her other hand. “You’ve sure had enough to deal with.”

  Silence drifted up between them as Miriam wiped a fresh rivulet of tears, but this was the companionable silence of friends reestablishing their acquaintance.

  “Sorry to dump on you like this. Hardly old home week, is it?”

  “I’m your friend, Miriam.” Donna smiled at her. “I’m supposed to help you, to listen to you.”

  “Thanks.” Miriam felt another twinge of guilt that Donna should offer help and support when she herself had remained so distant.

  “So what is modeling like?” Donna asked, changing the subject. “How do you feel when you walk out in front of all those people?”

  Miriam didn’t want to talk about modeling. She had fostered a foolish hope that when she came back here, she would be able to leave the other life behind her, if only for a while. But she had forgotten how intertwined lives are in a small town. Your news is my news.

  “Actually, the majority of what I do is catalog work. I haven’t done much runway work lately, and, to tell you the truth, it’s fairly boring.”

  “Boring?” Donna said in a tone of disbelief.

  “Yes, Donna. Despite what you see, it’s dull, plodding work.” She would have preferred to talk about her clothing retail business, but it was just another failure in her life. At least for now.

  “Well, you still don’t seem to have trouble keeping the weight off.” Donna sighed, looking at Miriam. “I could never figure out how a girl so skinny could eat so much and not put on a pound.”

  “Always was a poor keeper. But enough about me,” Miriam said suddenly. She didn’t want to reexamine her life any more than she had to. She hadn’t liked what she saw out east; she liked it even less here. “What about you? Married? Kids?”

  “Yeah, I’m married. My last name is now Kurtz, and my husband, Keith, is an accountant. I’ve got two kids. One in play school, the other in kindergarten. I’m busy with church, school. The usual.” Donna smiled a self-deprecating smile. “My life must sound so dull.”

  Miriam shook her head, a feeling of melancholy gripping her. “It doesn’t sound dull at all,” she said quietly. “It sounds pretty good to me.”

  “Don’t give me that.” Donna held her gaze. “As if beneath every glamorous outfit you’ve ever worn beats a heart that deep down would love nothing more than to be at home baking chocolate chip cookies.”

  “I prefer macadamia nut, myself.”

  “See? A gourmet. You don’t belong in this little hick town anymore.”

  Once Miriam might have scoffed at the idea, but as she had traveled these past few years, she had been able to look at Waylen from a distance. “Waylen isn’t as bad as you might think, Donna,” she said.

  “You sound serious.”

  “I am. The fashion life reads well in short magazine articles. But a good photographer can make anything—and I mean anything—look good,” Miriam said with meaning. “I haven’t met many sincere people in my business. They’re either putting up with you because you might be useful to them, or they’re sucking up to you because you are useful to them.” She gave a shrug, knowing that she had already said too much. She hadn’t come back here to show everyone how unsatisfied she was with her life.

  “So no one important in your life right now?”

  “Nope. Footloose and fancy free.” Her wry grin belied her casual tone. “My agent, Carl, is a darling, but he’s married. I’ve not met Mr. Right yet.”

  “I can’t imagine that. I always thought you would be the one who would get married first,” Donna said with a grin.

  There it was again: the soft pain brought up by the innocent comment. The reminder of how close she and Jake had once been. How had she thought she could keep herself aloof from that?

  “I’m sorry,” Donna said, shaking her head. “Me and my big mouth.” She sighed. “I don’t know what happened between you and Jake. I don’t suppose it’s any of my business, but it was as much of a shock to me as anyone when he and Paula got married.”

  Miriam sensed the opening that Donna gave her, but decided not to seize it. She had come to set the past to rest.

  “Well, that’s long over, and we’ve both changed a lot,” Miriam said lightly. “Tell me about the rest of the people here. What’s Linda doing? Still hoping to write that bestseller?”

  They sat for another hour, chatting, talking, laughing. Miriam found herself drifting back into life in Waylen. It was familiar, and yet, listening to her friend talk easily about children and her husband, Miriam had a feeling that she had missed out on an important part of life. Her own life seemed shallow and frivolous by comparison.

  Finally, Donna had to leave. “Why don’t you come with me? Sondra is there. I’d love to see the look on her face when you show up.”

  Miriam shook her head. She would have liked to come, but Jake was there, as well. It would be better if she kept her distance. “I have a few other things to do. Thanks, though.”

  “You said you’re staying around a while—we’ll have to make sure to connect again. Otherwise the church is having a picnic a week from this Sunday. You should come.”

  Miriam paused again, considering. Memories of other fun-filled days flashed through her mind. “That sounds good.”

  “Great. Well, keep in touch. And we’ll see you on Sunday.”

  They left the restaurant, each going her separate way. Miriam watched Donna stroll down the street, waving at one person, stopping br
iefly to chat with another. For a moment she wanted to go with Donna. She wanted to be a part of that community.

  Don’t be silly. You don’t fit here anymore, she thought. She wondered if she should go to church on Sunday, if she wanted to risk the very stares and censure that Donna had hinted at. She had enough self-doubts; she didn’t need to pile on any more.

  But she remembered other times in church, other times when she had felt peace, and joy and love. She felt a yearning to experience that again, that healing, that feeling that someone did care about her, about her soul. That she was important to God.

  She had strayed so far from that center of her life. She couldn’t help but think of how easy it had been to drift away, to get caught up in the vacuousness of the fashion world. And she had been such a major part of it—dressing up, acting, being fussed over.

  Seventeen years old, self-conscious, still smarting from Jake’s defection. What girl wouldn’t go a little crazy with all that attention, all those photographers telling her how beautiful she looked, all the admiration? But it was from people who saw her only as a face and figure.

  Miriam spun around and strode away from the café, wishing she could as easily leave parts of her past behind.

  Carl and his bright ideas, she thought. It would have been easier on her self-esteem and her conscience if she had just stayed out east and sold the farm from there. She never spent this much time moodling about might-have-beens. All her free time in the past few months had been taken up with bankers, phoning up suppliers to beg for extensions of credit, phoning up debtors to beg for payment.

  When one of her biggest customers went bankrupt, it had caused her problems. She might have been okay, but for a crooked accountant. Now, thanks to him, she stood to lose her company, as well, unless she could come up with a substantial influx of cash.

  That accountant, Miriam thought with disgust. Another man who couldn’t be trusted. Her life seemed to be a series of men who didn’t want to stay with her, be loyal to her. That’s why it puzzled her that Jake could still tie her up in knots. He had only been the first of many men who didn’t seem to need her in the long run.

  She sped up, and this time made it all the way to the real estate office. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Half an hour later she was back on the street. The papers were signed and the machinery had been put into place.

  Now what?

  Miriam emerged from the office and sighed, looking down the street. A few trucks drove by, a couple of cars. People greeted each other as they passed on the street. Everyone belonged here. They fit.

  She walked down the street until she found an empty bench and, wiping the moisture off it, sat down. She called Denny’s on her cell phone and arranged for them to bring her car downtown. Then, just to make a connection, she phoned Tilly. Maybe she needed some groceries.

  “That would be wonderful, Miriam. I don’t dare leave Fred. He is feeling so listless, I don’t want to leave him alone.”

  “He’s still not feeling well?”

  “It seems so up and down. If he doesn’t get better, I’m going to have to bring him in to the doctor. But for now all is well, and God is good. We still have each other and Jake and Taryn, and for that we can be grateful, can’t we?”

  Yes you can, thought Miriam.

  “Now, what groceries do you want?” Miriam wrote down what Tilly told her. They chatted a bit more and then Tilly said goodbye. It was like old times, Miriam thought with a smile as she closed the phone. Running errands, idle chat.

  She missed it.

  She was putting her phone and the list back in her purse when she saw a tall figure pausing at the traffic lights on the main street. Jake.

  He was frowning. Miriam could see it from here. She swallowed down her quick response to him, frustrated with how easily old feelings came back. The light turned green and he crossed the street. He walked along the street opposite her, then looked up and saw her. His step faltered, then, after a quick glance both ways, he jogged across the street toward her.

  Visiting with Donna this morning had recreated the past. Now, once again, as Jake sauntered up to her, she felt the same foolish thrill she always did when she saw him. It didn’t matter that just this morning she had seen him with mud on his face and pants; he still seemed to tower above her, to dominate the area around him.

  “Hello,” she said evenly. “You finished at the church?”

  “They didn’t need me. So I had some business to do.”

  “I’m picking up some groceries for Tilly.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Jake said abruptly. He shifted his weight and slipped his hands in the back pockets of his blue jeans. “I can get them.”

  Miriam felt dismissed. Though she wanted to fight it, she realized that putting her farm up for sale pulled her back from their lives, as well.

  She busied herself looking through her purse, found the piece of paper on which she had written the list, and handed it to Jake. “Are you sure? I don’t mind doing it.”

  “That’s okay. Thanks anyhow.” He forced a smile as if to compensate for his brusque attitude, but Miriam wasn’t fooled. She knew what Jake’s sincere smile could do. And had he bestowed one on her, she wouldn’t be standing here, seething over how easily he seemed to exempt her from his life.

  She had hoped to visit with Tilly for a while, but she’d have to make time for that another day.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” She was about to turn.

  “Did you want me to give you a ride to Denny’s?”

  “That’s not necessary,” she said mimicking his words of a few moments ago. “They said they would deliver the car to me.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you around then.” And he turned on his heel and walked across the street again.

  Miriam watched him go, her emotions narrowing down to anger. She felt as if she had been judged and found wanting. As if Jake Steele were above reproach, she thought angrily.

  By the time Denny brought her car to town, she was tired and glad to see him.

  She followed him back to the office, paid for the repairs done on her car and then drove home.

  The road back was still wet from the rain of this morning and the car was difficult to handle, but that didn’t stop Miriam from going too fast. She fishtailed a couple of times, and after the second time, forced herself to slow down. The last thing she wanted was for Jake to have to rescue her. Again.

  By the time she got home she wasn’t quite as angry as before. Instead, a peculiar hurt overlaid her earlier emotions. A painful realization that she didn’t fit here anymore.

  Well, it was a good thing she had realized that as soon as possible and hadn’t pinned anything on this place.

  She spent the rest of the day and most of the night cleaning up and making the place look a little better.

  Saturday dawned warm and bright and Miriam headed outside to clean the yard. She went through the old shop on the place, a fresh wave of nostalgia washing over her at the still strong scent of diesel and oil that seemed to have soaked into the very timbers of her father’s shop.

  She remembered happier times when her father had helped her put the chain back on her bike, helped her with a science fair project that her mother didn’t want done in the house. She remembered “helping” her father by handing him tools from the chest-high toolbox that still stood in one dark corner.

  Miriam looked around her with a measure of anxiety. Yesterday, when she had signed the sales agreement, she hadn’t realized the magnitude of her actions. She would have to have a farm sale to get rid of all these things.

  The thought depressed her. She had been to enough farm sales as a young girl. She remembered how uncomfortable she had felt, poking and prying through other people’s things, listening to disparaging comments made about some of the items offered for sale.

  But imagining the contents of the house going up for sale bothered her less than the idea of seeing her father’s too
ls lined up and auctioned off.

  She wandered through the shop, surprised to see so many tools still here. The lawn mower and garden tiller stood in their usual corner. Her father’s table saw and drill press stood opposite, coated with a layer of greasy dust. Buckets and pails of bolts and nuts were lined up on shelves above the workbench. Mouse droppings were thick on the floor and an old leather carpenter pouch that had fallen off its hook had been fair game for them: it was full of holes.

  For the rest, it was all intact.

  With a mental shake, Miriam walked over to the lawn mower and pulled it away from the wall. She opened the gas tank and frowned. Empty, of course. And she knew there was no gas in the gas tank in the yard.

  So much for mowing the lawn, she thought.

  She could ride over to the Prins’s farm and borrow some gas; her father had enough jerry cans she could carry it in.

  But after meeting Jake in town, she was reluctant to go over there when he was around.

  Monday, she could. Jake would probably be working in the fields then.

  She pushed the lawn mower into its spot and walked back to the house, wondering how she was going to fill the rest of the empty evening.

  Chapter Five

  Miriam flipped down the visor in her car and checked her lipstick. She unconsciously ran her hand over her hair and glanced down at her clothes—black blazer over dark, narrow fitted pants. Conservative enough for church, she figured.

  Yesterday she had spent half the day trying to talk herself out of coming, but when she woke up this morning, she knew she didn’t feel right staying home.

  She pulled the key out of the ignition and took a deep breath. Taking a walk down the country roads might have been a better idea. Standing here in the shadow of the church—the shadow of seventeen years of sermons, obligations and Sunday School lessons—she felt as if she were looking at her life with new eyes.

  The parties, the late nights, the friends she had spent time with, the endless traveling from one exotic location to another, the many, many times she had thought she should visit her mother, and hadn’t—all seemed so shallow. She had stopped attending church when her co-workers teased her about it.