“No, Travis. We have to wait until it’s time for us to go to heaven. We don’t know when God will be ready for us to come to heaven, but when He is, when we die, it will be all right because going to heaven is the very best gift of all.”
Travis suddenly pushed away from her and jumped out of the chair. “But I want to go now! I want to go with Mommy and Daddy.” He looked enraged, and Leslie was shocked by the transformation.
“But, sweetie, we can’t. God isn’t ready for us to come to heaven just yet.”
“Then I want Mommy and Daddy to come back here. If I can’t go, then I don’t want them to go.”
Leslie leaned forward and tried to reach a hand to her brother, but he pulled away. “I know how you feel, Travis. I feel the same way. But now, it’s you and me and Aunt Margie, and together we have to stay here and keep trusting Jesus to help us. We’ll miss them a lot, but we have each other. And when we miss them together, it won’t seem near as bad as missing them alone.”
Travis’s lower lip jutted out. He was very close to crying, yet Leslie noted the restraint he practiced. “Please come here, Travis. Let me hold you.”
“No! I’m not a baby.” He ran off to his room, refusing any further discussion.
Leslie got up to go after him, but just then the telephone rang. Wearily, she picked it up. “Hello? Yes, this is she.”
It was the funeral home. Leslie listened intently as an ancient sounding man went over the details of the funeral arrangements. HE rattled on about the chapel usage and the cost of the organist, and after that some mention was made about family cars and how many would be attending so that announcements could be printed up.
“Wait a minute,” Leslie interrupted. “What kind of cost are we talking here?” She suddenly realized for the first time that Margie had said nothing of the plans she’d put in motion. Cost had never been discussed, and Leslie knew it was going to be a major factor in planning the funeral of her parents.
The man seemed hesitant to discuss money over the telephone, but Leslie finally wore him down and got an item by item total.
“Well,” Leslie said, looking at the figures she’d just written, “this is costing a great deal more than we’d planned on. For the time, I’d appreciate it if you would do nothing more.” She paused. “Yes, I know these things take time and planning, but apparently they take a great deal of money as well.”
She listened as the man explained why money should be the very least of her concerns at a time like this. Leslie felt herself burning with anger as he hinted a lack of caring on her part was causing her to suggest that cost dictate the funeral arrangements.
Finally, she could take no more. “I’m sorry that we bothered you. We won’t be needing your services after all.” She hung up the phone.
“Now what do I do?” she wondered aloud. “Aunt Margie will probably be furious with me. After all, she’s the one who called them.” A million thoughts raced through her mind. Her mother had always said that if anything happened to them, the shoebox in the basement would have all of their papers, including the deed to the house and the shop, as well as their wills. With a sigh, Leslie knew what she had to do, but facing up to it was almost more than she could bear. Then, too, there was Travis.
She strained an ear for any sound of the boy, but he’d closed his bedroom door and Leslie could hear nothing. Give him some time, a voice seemed to whisper to her heart.
Leslie started up, then thought better of it and sat down on the carpeted stairs to think. It was probably a good thing there was so much for adults to do at a time like this. It kept their minds busy, as well as their hands. But what of five year olds? What did they do at times like this? Should she give Travis a series of tasks to fulfill? Make him a part of the arrangements? Or would that only make it harder for him? Should she go try to talk to him again? Or did he need to search the silence to find his own answers?
“Oh, God,” she cried, burying her face in her hands, “what do I do?”
SIX
Darrin was thankful for his many years of flying experience. When it came to boarding a plane, he was a pro. He could aimlessly wander through the routine without giving much thought to the actions he performed. There was comfort in such experience. Experience lent itself to routine, and routine allowed his mind to wander to other things, like Leslie.
After the plane touched down in Kansas City, Darren collected his things and absentmindedly boarded one of the many airport shuttles. Grief and guild washed over him in waves as he considered the situation in full. His mind could still hardly conceive that the nightmare of the past two days had actually happened. First, the sadness – the overwhelming loss that drenched his mind and soul. Sadness for the teary-faced woman who would have to wait for eternity in order to see her parents again. This sadness was quickly followed by shame and guilt, and then the melancholy would return. The turbulence of his emotions made him feel sick.
The shuttle pulled alongside his parking lot, and Darrin was soon behind the wheel of his car, merging with other travelers onto the interstate. He drove dejectedly through the heavy traffic and made his way toward his apartment outside Kansas City. The silence seemed too much to handle, so he switched on the radio to fill the consuming void. Mindless tunes poured out of the speakers, and for a moment, Darrin forced himself to think about nothing at all. But reality would not be ignored for long. Soon the pain and the remorse assaulted him once more and demanded to be dealt with.
“Oh, Lord,” he prayed aloud, “what am I supposed to do? I know there must be something I can do to help this woman. I have to try! It’s my fault – it was my father.
Money. He could offer money. That’s all he was really good for. And he had plenty of it. Yes, he would find her and offer financial assistance. Surely she could use it. Paying for a double funeral wouldn’t be easy. But how would he explain it? How could he justify his interest in her well-being without revealing his relationship to her grief?
Darrin expertly navigated the winding streets of the busy Kansas City neighborhood and made his apartment complex. Barely fitting his sports car between two inconsiderately parked vehicles, he squeezed out of the ten-inch opening he had managed to create without touching the immaculate Cadillac on his left.
“Please don’t let it have an alarm,” he repeated softly, over and over. He didn’t feel like dealing with the attention of a sensory-activated alarm system that would, no doubt, yield bells or sirens or robotic voices. He just wanted to be anonymous and hid inside his own world for a little longer.
All hopes of quiet contemplation were dashed as soon as his eyes fell on the red convertible Mustang. Laurelin. She was waiting in his apartment. Why had he ever given her the key? Heaving a sigh, Darrin debated whether or not he should just turn around and leave. He didn’t feel like dealing with her or her plans. Not now. Not ever, really.
For the past two days, their relationship had begun to weigh heavy on his heart. Not that it hadn’t bothered him for a quite a while. He had just been able to mask it better. Now, with the Heywards consuming his energies, he had very little tolerance for the materialistic rantings of the lovely Ms. Firth.
She didn’t even know about his father, which in and of itself would prove interesting. Before, he’d implied that his father was no longer in his world, which was true. But Darrin knew that Laurelin had believed his father to be long dead and gone to whatever place Laurelin believe people went. With the ghost of such an undesirable character threatening her pristine family tree, she might very well break off the engagement herself.
“Oh, if it were only that easy,” he muttered, making his way up the flight of stairs.
“Just where have you been?”
Darrin had barely unlocked the door before the vituperations of a slighted Laurelin began. He didn’t bother to answer. It didn’t matter, he knew, because until she had gotten her initial assault of words in, he would never be able to offer up even the most meager of explanations.
“J
ust what do you mean, leaving me alone for two days? The Andrews party was last night. I had to go alone. Alone. Me! I had to shop up all alone and go home all alone and listen to everybody ask me where in the world you were and why you weren’t at the party. And that was worse yet, because I didn’t know why you weren’t at the party. I had to make up something that would excuse your absence from their party. Are you listening to me?”
Darrin’s head was partially inside his closet as he hung up his suit jacket. “Yes, dear,” he answered in monotone.
“I thought it was just going to be a quick overnight. But no, you were gone for two days. Just what was I supposed to do with myself for those two days?” Well-manicured hands rested upon slender hips, and Laurelin’s brown eyes were dark and furious.
“Well, I hope you went to work at the shop,” Darrin said casually, as he picked up his bag and carried it into his bedroom.
“The shop? Is that all you think about, Darrin Malone? How can I be expected to babysit your antiques and plan a fabulous wedding?” She shook her head, the short light brown hair falling perfectly into place with each pouty turn. “Darrin, I’m not a magician. I need time. I need you here taking care of things so I have time to think. I was too worried about you to go to the shop. Besides, I had to call the caterer, and the florist, and my mother, and . . .”
Darrin held up his hand. “Just stop. I don’t want to hear about it right now. I need to talk, and you need to listen. Understand?”
Laurelin’s frown deepened. “How dare you talk to me like that! I am your fiancée, not a child!”
“Then quit acting like one and sit down.” She turned from him and glided to the nearest overstuffed chair.
Darrin studied her for a moment. She looked very professional, and there was no denying her beauty. She was elegant and refined, her light brown hair styled just enough to allow movement while retaining its form. Her make was expertly applied and accentuated her sapphire jacket and skirt. Her long legs were trim and defined and seemed to have pantyhose surgically grafted to them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in a sundress or relaxing in a pair of cutoff shorts and a T-shirt. Granted, he was first drawn to her for her impeccable tasted in clothes and antiques, but now, he couldn’t help but think it would be nicer to be engaged to a person instead of a fashion doll.
“Well?” Laurelin’s impatient voice brought him back to reality. “What is it that’s so important that you have to take that tone with me?”
“Look,” he began. “The reason I had to fly to Dallas at the last minute was because my father had died in a car accident.”
“Your father? I thought your father was already dead. Well, at least I thought he was out of the picture. Why in the world should it matter to you what happens to him? You couldn’t possibly have had much of a relationship if I thought he was dead all this time.”
“Ah, Lin. Your compassion is overwhelming. It’s a wonder I could managed being away from your sweetness for forty-eight hours.” Darrin sighed in complete exasperation. They were headed for another major fight at this rate, and that was the last thing he needed. Leaving his bags, he motioned her back to the living room. He tried to calm his nerves and rid his mind of the sarcasm he felt.
“Let me start again,” he finally said as Laurelin fashionably rearranged herself on the sofa.
“What’s to start?” Laurelin asked, appearing rather bored. “He’s dead, and you’ve taken care of business there. Now I hope you’ll take care of business here. I mean, really Darrin. You’ve never mentioned the man except in the past tense, and now you’re acting as though you’ve just gone through some tremendously difficult circumstance. How could it be that traumatic if you wrote him off so many years ago anyway?”
Darrin found her attitude not only distasteful, but downright aggravating. His desire to keep from arguing was rapidly disappearing.
“I’m sorry, dear. I’m sure this is difficult for you to deal with, but you must know that your vast mercy is misplaced on such a man as my father.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and he rolled up his shirt sleeves like a man preparing to do battle.
“My father is, or rather was, an alcoholic. He and my mother were separated because she refused to let her only son be raised by the bottle. I grew up hating my father for what he had done. However, after my mother died, I was the one the police would come to after every drunk driving arrest and every accident. I’ve let you assume he was already dead because in many ways – all the ways that mattered – he was. It was wrong of me to lead you on about it, but I was naturally very disturbed and ashamed of the man. I wanted nothing more to do with him, yet it was only right that upon his death, the police would call me.”
“But you hated him, right?” she asked with a tiny shake of her head. “So, it’s not like this is a tug at any emotional heartstrings, right?”
Darrin had fixed his gaze upon her, but it was as if he could no longer see her. His mind seemed to play tricks on him. He could hear her voice, but all he could think of were the Heywards.
“So what’s the big deal, Darrin? He’s dead, and now you don’t have to worry about him bothering you or us ever again. I don’t see where this is really a problem. It’s not like you or he loved each other or had this binding father-son relationship. He was a drunken fool, and you are better off without him. Now if that’s all, can we please talk about the wedding? Laurelin crossed her legs in the opposite direction and waited for Darrin’s usual surrender.
Her words snapped him back to reality. “Laurelin, you never cease to amaze me. Were you born this calloused and cynical, or did you have to work up to it? I just can’t understand you. You know nothing about my father except for what I have just told you. Granted, I abhorred the man, but at least I have reasons. You only hate him because his death managed to cut into your agenda by taking be to Dallas for two days. Time, which I might add, could have been used to your benefit, if you had chosen to act like a grown-up instead of a spoiled little girl.”
He was letting his anger out, and he could tell by the look of feigned surprise that Laurelin was taking particular delight in his losing control. Instead of letting her respond, he continued as he ripped away the tie at his neck. “So, in answer to your question, no, we cannot talk about the wedding now, because I was not finished explaining the situation to you.”
He tossed the tie across the chair and went into the kitchen for a glass of something cold. Finding a can of cola, he popped the top and took a long, steady drink. This wasn’t how he wanted things to be. He needed comfort right now. He needed to find a reason to believe that things would get better. He needed . . . what did he need?
“Turn it over to God” he could almost hear his mother saying.
Oh, God, help me, he prayed and took another drink. He was surprised and grateful that Laurelin hadn’t followed him into the kitchen or called out to him. Slowly he took a deep breath and walked back into the living room.
“Look, I don’t want to fight with you tonight. I don’t want to plan a wedding, and I don’t want to listen to any complaints about my absence. Yes, my father is dead because of his own stupidity, and yes, in its own way, it is a blessing. However, my father’s stupidity has also cost the lives of two other individuals. This is an important thing.”
“But the crash was in Texas. That’s why you had to fly to Dallas, right?”
Darrin nodded curtly and took another drink.
“So why is it so important? We don’t know the other people, and they didn’t know us. None of our friends will find out about this, if that’s what’s bothering you. Just keep quiet about it.”
Darrin shook his head in disbelief. Who was this woman before him? Had she always been this way? Had he really loved her at one point and time? He knew for certain he harbored no such feelings now, and he longed to tell her so – but it wasn’t the right time.
“Laurelin, the couple he killed was from Lawrence. Do you know where that is?”
“Oh,
Larryville?” she said, throwing out the insulting nickname. “The one in Kansas? That little college town, right?”
“Yes, that’s the one. I met their daughter on the flight down to Dallas.”
“You didn’t tell her did you? She doesn’t know it was your father, does she?”
“No, I didn’t realize how the situations were connected until I saw the pictures of her parents and my father on the evening news. She told me her parents were killed in a car accident and that she was headed to Dallas, but I figured Dallas is a big city and –”
“She isn’t going to sue your father’s estate is she? Is this what you’ve been trying to tell me all evening? Oh, this does change everything. I wonder . . .”
Darrin had taken more than he could deal with. Going to the front door, he opened it and motioned to her. “Just get out. Go back to your perfectly decorated apartment and wonder about it there. I can’t deal with you. I don’t want to deal with you. Go decorate something for someone, but don’t come near me. I don’t want to hear from you or see you. You disgust me. Two innocent people lost their lives, and all you care to ask me is if their bereaved daughter is going to sue. Well, whether she sues or not, I am going to help her and her remaining family in any way I possibly can. That means financially, emotionally, or whatever other way they need assistance.”
Laurelin winced but still hadn’t bothered to get up from the sofa. “You’re going to give them money? Darrin, why? That’s just asking for a lawsuit of major proportions. Look, I have a great lawyer who can tell you exactly how to handle this. Just don’t do anything stupid. If you go telling this woman who you are and give her money, well, who knows what will happen? You’ll probably find the whole thing on the front page of the paper.
“Darrin, you need to be responsible about this. Think of our wedding – our friends. Think of the shop and your clientele. You can’t risk this getting out. I don’t want anyone to know about it. You haven’t spoken to your father for years. Don’t bring him home now that he’s a ghost. I don’t know what I’d do if any of our friends found out, Darrin. I really don’t.”
Crossroads Page 5