East of the Sun: a 20th century inspirational romance.

by Hope Franke Strauss

  “What happened?”

  Eden recounted the events that led up to Eleanor’s fall. “She must have slipped near the top; her arthritis is getting pretty bad. I never should have let her go alone. I should have gone with her.”

  “Eden, you can’t blame yourself. No one expects you to be by her side twenty-four hours of the day. These things happen. Elderly people fall all the time. Lots of them break bones. Bones get weaker when you get older, right?” He was trying his best to comfort her and it made her love him all the more.

  “Thanks. Look, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

  “It’s okay. I’m going to come down.”

  “What?” Eden had expected sympathy. She hadn’t dared hope for this.

  “It’ sounds like your mother is going to be in the hospital for a while and you’ll want to be with her. Someone needs to take care of Sophie. I’ll tell the boss it’s a family emergency.”

  “Really?”

  “I can leave today after lunch, so I should be there around ten or so, okay? See you then.”

  Eden felt giddy. Cade was coming! She wanted to jump up and down. Then she remembered her mother and she wanted to bawl. So she sat down and waited. Without her purse she couldn’t buy so much as a coffee. She picked up a magazine on the table and thumbed through it, unable to keep her attention focused long enough to finish one paragraph. She gave up.

  Finally, a doctor she recognised approached her.

  “Mrs. Kelley?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’ve managed to stabilise your mother’s condition.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “She’s not out of hot water yet. She suffered a concussion and a broken hip. If she were younger I expect she wouldn’t have been hurt quite so badly. She’ll be staying with us for some time, I’m afraid.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “Right now if you like.”

  Eden followed him down the corridor to the temporary room Eleanor had been placed in. She was taken aback by her appearance. Oxygen tubes traveled through her nose. Bleeping machines tracked her vitals. The severity of Eleanor’s condition undid her.

  “Mom?” she whispered. Eden covered Eleanor’s cold hand with her own. “It’s Eden…, Lillian. I’m here for you.”

  Eden wasn’t sure how long she had sat there beside her mother’s bed. A nurse came to check the IV and the ticker tape being spit out by the monitoring machine.

  “Mrs. Kelley?” she said. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go home and get some rest? We’ll take care of everything here. If there’s any change, I promise we’ll call you.”

  Eden left reluctantly, but Sophie needed her, too.

  And, she had to get ready for Cade .

  43

  Eden

  EVERYTHING was ready. Eden moved Sophie back into her room with her, clearing out most of Sophie’s things to make room for Cade’s. She stripped off the ‘Winnie the Pooh sheet set and replaced it with clean sheets and the blue and red plaid comforter. She’d wanted to leave Sophie there, a wishful hope that Cade would return to her side in her room, but she thought that might look too presumptuous. Leaving him to sleep on the couch felt ungracious, and she wanted Cade to know that she was grateful he came.

  Eden showered and clothed herself with her best pair of jeans and a fresh shirt. Carefully applied make-up concealed the blue trace of fatigue around her eyes without over doing it. She didn’t want to look like she expected him to take her out on the town.

  She tidied up the living room, dimming the lights to camouflage the dust and to cozy up the ambience. Soft rock played quietly in the background and the pot of tea steeping in the kitchen fragranced the place with a sweet spice. She was tempted to light a couple candles, but felt that would be going a bit too far.

  A watched pot never boils and every minute after ten o’clock seemed like twelve. She found herself pacing the room and stopped to do some stretching exercises. Relax. Relax. Hands over head as high as they could go, bending over at the waist and touching the floor. Deep breath. Okay. Flicking the wrist. Ten thirty-one.

  She poured herself a cup of tea. It was a bit on the strong side, so she added a little milk, and then headed for her chair.

  The last time she’d seen Cade was five months earlier. With the exception of their last conversation, phone calls had been civil but cool. Maybe things could change this time. Maybe they could work things out…, maybe he would…

  A knock at the door.

  She jumped to answer it, almost spilling her tea. She shook out her long, curly locks, and took a deep breath.

  “Cade,” she said lightly as she opened the door. He wore a dark jacket over a two-tone green T-shirt, and loose blue jeans. His dark hair was short, and a shadow shaded his jaw. He looked a little road weary, but good. Really good. She’d forgotten how his deep penetrating gaze could pull her in. She began to tremble. If she had the same effect on him, he hid it well. His shoulders were back slightly, as if he needed to proceed cautiously. Maybe he did.

  “Hi, Eden.”

  “Come in.”

  He stepped inside and she caught a whiff of his aftershave, a scent that stirred the longing she’d been nursing.

  “So how was the trip down?” The question was a decoy. She was attempting to avert his attention from her nervousness.

  “The traffic was slow through the canyon,” he said. He stood at the doorway, like he wondered what to do next. He set a small suitcase down by his feet and closed the door behind him. He stared at her, waiting for her to speak next.

  “This is kinda awkward, isn’t it?” Eden said.

  He thrust his fists into his jacket pockets. “Yup.”

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty? I made some tea.”

  “Yeah, I could use a bite to eat. I was going to stop for something, but it was getting late.” Cade followed Eden into the kitchen. He removed his jacket, throwing it over the back of a chair. Eden tried not to stare at the muscles flexing in his arms.

  She sneaked looks at him while she made a ham sandwich. He blatantly watched her over the rim of his cup while he drank his tea.

  “And the drive was okay?” Eden said, feeling nervous under his gaze. “Oh, you said it was already, didn’t you.”

  “It was fine, if you don’t mind snaking along behind a convoy of semi trucks.”

  “And the weather?”

  “Some fog and rain, not too bad.”

  “Good.” She handed him his plate and sat down across from him. The ticking from the kitchen clock grew louder. Eden popped a piece of nico-gum into her mouth.

  “How’s Sophie?” Cade said, between bites, breaking the lull.

  “Good.” Eden went on about her latest antics and how she thought she was finally adjusting. She could have kicked herself for adding that last part. Right, adjusting to being out of his life. He glanced up with a hooded glare. The silence descended again.

  “She misses you terribly,” Eden added, trying to make up for her lack of tact. “When I told her you were coming, she was so excited she could hardly contain herself. She was determined to stay awake until you got here, but the poor thing nodded off around nine.”

  “I miss my daughter… and…” Their eyes locked. And what? Did he miss her?

  Eden wanted to shout, I miss you, too!

  But what about Hillary? What if Cade was just being polite? So instead she asked him if he wanted more tea. He shook his head and looked away.

  She really wished she knew where he stood with Hillary, but she didn’t know how to ask. And she wasn’t ready to hear him talk about her, especially if things were going good.

  Her nerves were shooting off. She dug in her pocket and opened up a second piece of gum. “I quit smoking,” she explained.

  “Really? Good for you.” He carried his dirty dishes to the sink. “How’s your mom doing?”

  “She doesn’t look good to me. All those cords and tubes attached to her. A
nd her hip. She won’t be able to walk for a long time. It’s a real setback for her.”

  Cade leaned with his back against the sink and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry this happened, Eden. Your mother’s a good woman.”

  “Yeah, she is. I wish I would’ve remembered that sooner.”

  “She knows you love her,” he said tenderly.

  “I hope so. I really do.” Eden paused, debating with herself if she should tell Cade about her recent discoveries. She decided she would.

  “I’ve learned some interesting things about my parents that we didn’t know.”

  Cade returned to his place at the table. “Oh?”

  “They were married twice.”

  He cocked his head. “Huh?”

  “To each other. I found the first marriage license. It was dated 1946. They were divorced and then got married again in 1964.”

  “You’re kidding. Why would they do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It didn’t make sense to me either at first. It turns out my mother got pregnant back in the forties. I guess they had to get married. Even though they loved each other, they weren’t ready for the responsibility and commitment.”

  Like me, Cade. Like us.

  Slowly Cade asked, “What happened?”

  “The baby, a girl they called Dana, died when she was four years old. She fell out of a tree, a tree in this very yard. She was the same age as Sophie. I can’t imagine the pain my mother must have experienced during that time.”

  Cade’s brow buckled. “It’s a pretty big deal, finding out you had a sister.”

  “It is. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

  “So how did they—” he cleared his throat stiffly, “—get back together?”

  A beat. It had happened for her parents. Could it happen for them?

  “I don’t know, but they did. They never did stop loving each other.” It was little more than a whisper. Despite two pieces of gum, her throat was dry and constricting. She sipped her tea, conscious of her shaky hand. The kitchen clock ticked obtrusively, a time bomb about to explode.

  Why couldn’t she tell him the truth about how she felt? The invisible fist grabbed her throat again, threatening to cut off her supply of oxygen if she were to admit to any weakness. Because maybe he didn’t feel the same way. Could she deal with his rejection right now?

  Cade sat back in his chair. His eyes narrowed to that deep gaze again. Eden’s mind swirled with desire and regret. Was he waiting for her to say she was wrong? She was wrong, but the demon that held her throat wouldn’t let her say it aloud. Even if she did manage to get the words out, what if he blew her off? Told her what was done, was done?

  “I guess we should call it a night, eh?” she said with a thin quivering voice.

  “I guess.” His tone was challenging. Somehow she knew the ball was in her court. Where would he sleep tonight? She wanted him to reach for her to ask her one last time to come back to him. She would. She would a thousand times over.

  But he said nothing, just pinned her down with his eyes. Eden’s heart pounded so hard she was sure Cade could see it beat through her shirt. She stood abruptly, moving away from him to the counter. She grabbed a dishcloth and wiped an already clean countertop.

  Cade got up from the table and walked steadily towards her. His eyes were like tractor beams and she couldn’t break his gaze. She gripped the counter behind her to keep from crumbling to the ground. She wanted him to grab her and shake her like a fabled caveman out to claim his woman. Her pulse roared and heat exploded through her body. His mouth was inches away, his breath hot on her cheek. She willed him to kiss her.

  The moment passed and Cade stepped back. She should’ve kissed him. She should’ve grabbed him by the back of the neck and lay one on him. She wanted to, but he’d turned away to pluck his jacket from the chair, and the spell was broken. She stared at the floor feeling weak and brainless.

  She headed for the stairs, and Cade followed her. When they got to the landing they stood in front of the open door of the empty guest room. The moment of truth. He waited for her to say something. The entire English language escaped her. The tension between them was about to split the earth, swallowing them both alive. She could tug his arm, nod towards her room. But what if he pulled it away? If he was with Hillary, he wouldn’t cheat.

  She was paralysed with indecision.

  Cade dropped his chin in a slight nod. “Goodnight, Eden.”

  “Goodnight.” She entered her own room and slowly closed the door, shutting Cade out once again. She sat on the edge of the bed, lifting a pillow to her face, and screamed into it with frustration. She was such a loser!

  44

  Eleanor

  A WEEK of showers and he could still smell the stench of fish. The stinging slap of aftershave, a fresh, blue, cotton shirt, and a pair of black trousers temporarily disguised the fisherman underneath.

  Joshua acknowledged the silhouette with a nod, the shadow of the woman he had married four years ago who had taken up residence on the couch. He continued on into the kitchen. The coffee had long since been perked. He poured himself a strong steaming cup of it anyhow. Generous amounts of cream and sugar were unable to tame its bitterness.

  He joined her in the living room, settling into a chair across from her, noting the rumpled blanket and pillow she had slept on during the night. She had refused him again. Somehow his presence in this house, in their bed, was not the comfort he had hoped it would be He repulsed her.

  Dark, heavy curtains remained closed despite the mid-morning summer day. A narrow crack of bright sunlight cast a dusty stream of light along the wooden floor. She stared at it as if hypnotised, her bony fingers holding a half-empty mug of cold coffee. Those hands he had held and kissed fondly thousands of times no longer had the fortitude to raise a cup to her lips.

  “Did you sleep well?” he said.

  “Fine.”

  “It’s a beautiful day to work in the gardens. How about you and I spend some time there today?”

  “Maybe.”

  He took another bitter sip. Deep breaths of stale air didn’t ease his sense of suffocation. Each click of the mantle clock was a hammer thrust to his chest. He wanted to shake her, to scream about his pain, his loss, not only of a daughter he adored, but also a wife. She had imprisoned herself inside a private world, a world where he was not welcome.

  “I’ve applied to attend college. Night courses. In a few years, I can stay off the boats. Be close to home.”

  “That’s nice.”

  The house was a tomb. When Dana died—taking her bubbly laughter, her stomping noises through the kitchen and up and down the stairs, and her endless chatter—the house also died.

  “I miss her, too.”

  Her eyes closed slowly, shutting him out.

  “For the love of God, Ellie! I can’t stand this. You’ve isolated yourself in your own grief.” He went to her, down on his knees, pleading, “Look at me. Open your eyes and see me.”

  Her eyes remained closed, a single tear slipping out from beneath dark lashes.

  He stood then, headed for the stairs and returned fifteen minutes later with a suitcase in his hand.

  “I’m leaving. I’m going to ask Lillian to move in with you for a while.”

  In one smooth motion he bent down and lightly kissed a soft, salty cheek. “I love you. I always will. But I can’t live like this.”

  The door closed quietly behind him.

  45

  Eden

  EDEN awoke with a jolt. To her dismay, she had overslept. A revolt, a mutiny—sometimes the body just takes over and demands its right to sleep. She soon discovered she was alone in the house. A note on the kitchen counter stated simply, “I have Sophie. See you soon.”

  It was Cade’s handwriting, and Eden pressed it against her chest like a schoolgirl with a crush.

  Now she was sitting in the hard chair in her mother’s semi-private hospital room. Unfortunately
her agent hadn’t booked the window seat, so the inviting daylight of spring was shut out by the drab, yellow privacy curtain.

  Yellow, white, green. Who decided that these were the official universal hospital colours? Eden didn’t know, but whoever it was hadn’t solicited her opinion. It wasn’t the colours themselves that she found offensive; it was the shades. Drab, washed out, dull, no-reason-to-live shades.

  Eleanor slept comfortably, dressed in a hospital gown and covered with a blanket in the very same colours Eden had grown to despise in the forty-five minutes she’d been sitting in the room. She had improved overnight: for that Eden was thankful. No longer were those terrifying tubes threaded through her nose. The bed had a metal safety railing on either side. Beside it was a narrow three-drawer side table, bare with the exception of a pot of yellow Mum’s from Marti and Arnold, and a plastic cup of water with a straw.

  A Mrs. B. Turkoff was the lucky resident of the bed with the view of the roof of the lower south wing. She had staked out her territory carefully with a wide assortment of get well soon cards which had been sitting long enough to fade in the sun, and several plants at various stages of death. Too much sun? Not enough water? Obviously Mrs. T. didn’t have a green thumb, Eden thought, but she did have a good-sized schnoz that lacked no talent in the snoring department. She had every type of snore known to man down pat. The three short two long variety, the steady eddy wins the race model, as well as the more popular crescendo-to-climax version. Eden made three trips to the coffee machine just to escape the barrage, and now her nerves were shot with caffeine overload.

  They were joined by a petite nurse who had a long blond braid resting on her back. She wore no make up and despite this fact had a clear face with rosy cheeks. “My name is Janice,” she said in greeting. “I’m Mrs. Emerson’s nurse today.”

  “Forgive me for saying so,” Eden began, “but you don’t look old enough to be a nurse.” Or a high school graduate for that matter.