Yesterday

by Fern Michaels

  “I think she smiled. It looked like a smile,” Sela whispered.

  “She’s too sick to smile. It was probably a painful grimace,” Bode said morosely.

  “Think positive. I think it was a smile. You’re outnumbered, Bode. Let’s go get some fresh coffee. Say, did you call the management company and tell them to send someone to clean the food out of the kitchen?”

  “Yeah, I did. They locked up the place. You should tell Jake to sell that horror and buy some tax-free bonds or something. I’m going outside for some fresh air.”

  He walked for a long time, up and down the crowded streets. At some point he became aware of the shoppers carrying brightly colored Christmas shopping bags. The beginning of the Christmas season. Miracles were supposed to happen during the Christmas season.

  His hands were jammed in his pockets, his neck burrowed into his heavy jacket as he shouldered his way through the crowds. What if Brie didn’t make it? What if God decided He needed her more? What would he do? Attach himself to Hatch and Sela and live his life through-them? Join Jake Deering and become a guide in the wilderness?

  Why am I so stupid, so stubborn? Because I can’t take being hurt anymore. Brie would never hurt you, his other self argued. Brie cut you loose, went on with her life. She never backed down and never went back on her word. She told you, not in so many words, but she told you nonetheless, that she didn’t want anything to do with you. What was it she’d said? “You snooze, you lose.” Yeah, that was it.

  How in the hell could she think he preferred Callie to her? Because she’s a woman, and women think things like that, his other self continued to argue. Sela’s right, women need to hear the words. Would she believe him if he got the chance to say them? Please, God, give me the chance to say the words. I swear I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life. She doesn’t need you to take care of her, the argument went on. She proved she can do it herself. She just wanted you to love her.

  “I can do both,” Bode muttered, “if she’ll let me.”

  He thought about Sela and Hatch and how happy they were. Then he thought about Callie and Mama Pearl.

  He realized he was cold, freezing really, and God in heaven—were those really snowflakes he was seeing? He retraced his steps. At the hospital he took the elevator to the fourth-floor pediatric unit, where he stared at Little Hatch for a long time.

  He turned when he heard Sela say, “I can’t believe he’s mine. That I carried him and that I gave birth to him. I swear to God, Bode, I never thought I would be who I am today. You know what? I don’t wish for yesterday anymore, and I don’t look forward to tomorrow either. I live for today. I realized when Brie got shot just how fragile life is, and how we’re here for such a short period of time. Do I sound maudlin, Bode?”

  “No. Do you think it’s too late for me, Sela?”

  “Nope. She loves you, always has, always will. You have to tell her how you feel. You wasted so many years, Bode,” Sela said sadly.

  “I know. I don’t want them back though. I don’t want yesterday either.”

  “Callie does. What does that tell you?” Sela grinned. “Wait till you hear this. She called Wynfield Archer and he’s coming to get her today, or was it yesterday? He’s out of jail. I’ve lost track of time. They’re probably gone already. Anyway, he’s taking her back to Beaufort. Wyn will allow her to live in the past because neither one of them can handle the future. She said she wasn’t going to tell him about Mr. and Mrs. Davis. Now that’s the Callie I know!”

  “Are you as tired as I am, Sela?”

  “Yes. I’m glad Hatch got them to look after the baby. I couldn’t have stayed here otherwise.”

  “Hey, you promise to add a wing to a hospital, you get what you ask for.” Bode grinned.

  “Did Hatch do that?” Sela asked proudly.

  “Yeah, he did. Indirectly he was doing it for you, Sela. You’re never going to hurt him, are you?” Bode asked anxiously.

  “I promise you if I ever have the urge to kill him, I’ll kill you instead. No, I’ll never hurt him. I won’t promise not to fight with him though.”

  The hours dragged by, one after the other. They were sound asleep on the hard green plastic chairs when the surgeon and hospital administrator shook their shoulders. The surgeon spoke first. “She’s out of danger. Recovery will be slow, but she’s young and healthy. You can go in one at a time for five minutes each. Then I suggest you go someplace and clean up.”

  Bode’s heart thumped in his chest. It was time.

  “You go first, Bode,” Sela said.

  “Mr. Littletree, could I see you for a moment? If you’d just sign this paper we can get things under way.”

  “My pleasure, sir,” Hatch said, scribbling his name. “Remember now, it’s to be called the Briana Canfield Unit or whatever it is you’re going to build.”

  “It will be part of the agreement, Mr. Littletree.”

  “Brie, it’s Bode. Are you awake?”

  “I am now.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay. We’ve been hanging around for the past three days. Hatch and Sela are here. How could you be so dumb as to get shot? I thought you were one of the best.”

  “I am the best.”

  “I was teasing,” Bode said.

  “I wasn’t. Bad luck on my part.”

  “Will you marry me, Brie?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?” Bode demanded.

  “Don’t want you feeling sorry for me.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m sorry for all the . . . whatever it was I did that I shouldn’t have. I love you. I think I started loving you the day I counted your freckles. Brie Day—do you remember?”

  “You said I was special. I believed you.”

  “Did I ever thank you for all you did for me?” Bode asked gruffly.

  “A time or two,” Brie said wanly.

  “I do love you. I wanted to tell you a thousand times. I have to believe it wasn’t our time then. That’s what Mama Pearl always said. I was going to drag you away and tell you how I felt and . . . ask you. Before we knew you were shot. I had it all planned. The only thing I didn’t know was what your answer would be. So, what is the answer?” Bode asked anxiously.

  “Get on your knees. What kind of half-assed proposal is this?”

  Bode dropped to his knees. “Will you marry me?”

  “Damn right. It took you long enough, Bode Jessup.” A second later she was asleep, a smile on her face. He turned in time to see Hatch and Sela’s fists shoot upward. “Yeah!” they chorused.

  “She said yes, huh?” Hatch said, slamming him on the back.

  Bode nodded. His tongue felt fuzzy in his mouth. “She’s asleep. Sorry if I took your turn. I told her you were here.”

  “We’re outta here,” Hatch said. “I’m gonna get my kid and take my family home. You need anything, call.”

  “I will.”

  “Bode, I’m so happy for you. So very, very happy. I wish Pearl was here so she could see how it all turned out. I wish that more than anything.”

  “I think she knows, Sela.”

  “You’re okay, Bode Jessup.” Sela grinned.

  “So are you, Mrs. Littletree.”

  “We might not be flesh and blood, but we’re family.”

  “Forever and ever,” Bode said, hugging her.

  Inside the ICU unit, Brie opened her eyes and smiled as she watched through the window. “Thank you, God,” she whispered.

  Six months later, on the first day of June, Brie Canfield and Bode Jessup were married. Nine months later the Jessups were blessed with twin girls, whose names were Pearl and Sela Jessup.

  Dear Friends,

  I hope all of you enjoyed Yesterday as much as I enjoyed writing it. For a long time, as I was writing the book, I couldn’t come up with a title that to me captured the essence of the book. I really struggled with this one, but when I read the final version anything less than Yesterday just wouldn’t have fit.

&nbs
p; Sometimes, in life, we just bang our way through without thinking too much about it. I wanted to give these characters a voice to many of those important issues we face in our daily lives, such as finding the courage of our convictions, not selling out to someone else’s ideology and working to change. It’s about taking control of your life, no matter what the situation is. I think the characters in Yesterday did just that.

  Last, but not least, I wish everyone in the world had someone like Mama Pearl in their lives. I know I do.

  As always, I love getting comments or suggestions you may care to send along. You can write me in care of my publisher, or visit my Web site: www.fernmichaels.com.

  Stay happy and never stop reading,

  Fern Michaels

  If you love the Sisterhood series,

  but are hungry for a non-Sisterhood story from Fern Michaels,

  you’re in luck!

  Her next stand-alone novel will be

  coming from Kensington in May 2010.

  Turn the page for a special preview of

  RETURN TO SENDER,

  the wonderful new bestseller by Fern Michaels.

  Prologue

  January 13, 1989

  Dalton, Georgia

  Rosalind Townsend, whom everyone called Lin, held her newborn son tightly in her arms as the orderly wheeled her to the hospital’s administration office. A nurse tried to take him from her so she could tend to the business of her release, but she refused to give him up.

  After eighteen hours of agonizing labor without any medication, she’d delivered a healthy six-pound eight-ounce baby boy. She wasn’t about to let him out of her sight.

  She’d named him William Michael Townsend. A good, solid name. She would call him Will.

  Like his father’s, Will’s hair was a deep black, so dark it appeared to be blue. Lin wasn’t sure about his eyes at this point. She’d read in her baby book that a newborn’s eye color wasn’t true at birth. Nothing about him resembled her, as she was fair-haired with unusual silver-colored eyes and milk white skin.

  She gazed down at the securely wrapped bundle in her arms and ran her thumb across his delicate cheek. Soft as silk. He yawned, revealing tender, pink gums. Lin smiled down at her son. No matter what her circumstances, she made a vow to herself: she would devote her life to caring for this precious little child.

  Lin had spent the past seven months preparing for this day. During the day she worked at J & G Carpet Mills as a secretary. Five evenings a week and weekend mornings, she waited tables at Jack’s Diner. Other than what it cost for rent, food, and utilities, Lin saved every cent she made. She had to be conservative, because it was just her and Will. She would allow herself a week off from both jobs so she could bond with her son, adjust to her new life as a mother. While she would’ve loved spending more time with her son, being the sole caregiver and provider made that impossible. She’d lucked out when Sally, a coworker at Jack’s and a single mother to boot, had asked her if she would sit for her two-year-old daughter, Lizzie. In return, Sally would look after the baby on the days that she wasn’t working. Lin had agreed because she had to. There were still the days to cover, but Sally gave her a list of reliable sitters she’d used in the past. Dear Sally. Only five years older than Lin but so much wiser to the ways of the world. They were fast becoming good friends. Sally was the complete opposite of Lin—tall, olive-skinned, with beautiful brown eyes that had a slight upward slant, giving her an Asian look. Lin had called three of the sitters: two high-school girls and one elderly woman. She would meet with them later in the week. Lin was sure that if Sally approved, she would as well.

  Sadly, there would be no help from Will’s father or her parents. Lin recalled her father’s cruel words when he learned she was pregnant.

  “May you burn in hell, you little harlot! You’ve disgraced my good name. Get out of my house. I don’t ever want to lay eyes on you again or your bastard child!”

  Lin had appealed to her mother in the hope she would intervene, but, as usual, her mother had cowered behind her father, accepting his word as law. Lin would never allow a man to intimidate her the way her father did her mother.

  Never.

  “Miss?”

  Lin directed her attention back to the woman behind the administration desk. “Yes?”

  “If you’ll sign here and initial here.” The woman slid a single sheet of paper across the desk.

  Lin signed the paper, releasing the hospital from any liability. Since she had no health insurance and refused public assistance, she could only afford to stay in the hospital for twenty-four hours. She’d spend the next two years paying a hundred dollars a month until her debt was paid in full.

  The woman behind the desk reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick envelope. “Here, take these. You might find them useful.”

  Lin took the envelope, peered inside. Coupons for diapers, formula, baby lotion, and anything else one might need. She gave the woman a wan smile. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Throughout her pregnancy, she had visited the local dollar store once a month. She’d purchased generic brands of baby items that were on the list of layette necessities she’d read about in the baby book given to her by her obstetrician. Lin didn’t have extra money to spend on a homecoming outfit for the baby, so she’d gone to Goodwill and found a secondhand pale blue sweater set. She’d carefully hand washed it in Dreft detergent. Subsequently it had looked good as new. Someday, she swore to herself, her son wouldn’t have to wear secondhand clothes.

  The orderly wheeled her back to her room, where she dressed in the maternity clothes she’d worn when admitted to the hospital the day before. She ran her hand across her flat stomach. Now she would be able to wear the uniform Jack required, thus saving wear and tear on her few meager outfits. She gazed around the room to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind. Had it only been twenty-four hours since the taxi had dropped her off at the emergency room? It seemed like a week.

  Lin carefully removed the sweater set she’d placed in her overnight bag. With ease, she dressed her son, smiling at the results. Will looked like a little prince in his blue outfit from Goodwill. Briefly, she thought of his father and their weeklong affair. What would his reaction be when he saw his son for the first time? After months of indecision, she’d finally written him another letter two months ago, the first one since she had been on her own, and mailed it to his parents’ address in New York, the only way she knew to contact him. She’d begged Nancy Johnson, a girl Will’s father had introduced her to, for his phone number as well, but the woman had been adamant about not revealing more of her friend’s personal life. She’d told Lin that if Nicholas wanted her to have his phone number, he would have given it to her. The harsh words had stung, but there was more at stake than her raw feelings. She had a child to consider. She’d written a lengthy letter, revealing her pregnancy, telling Nicholas he would be a father shortly after the new year. Weeks passed without a response. Then just last week she’d trudged to the mailbox only to find the letter she’d sent unopened and marked RETURN TO SENDER.

  What’s one more rejection? she’d asked herself

  Her father hadn’t accepted her, either. Her mother had once told her that he’d always dreamed of having a son. At the time, Lin had been terribly hurt, but as the years passed, she learned to set those feelings aside. She’d been the best daughter she knew how to be in hopes of gaining some kind of approval, and maybe even a bit of love and affection from both parents, but that was not to be. When she told her parents about the decision to keep her baby, they were mortified and humiliated. She’d been tossed out of the only home she’d ever known with nothing more than the clothes on her back.

  A soft, mewling sound jerked her out of the past. “It’s okay, little one. I’m right here.”

  With the quilt that Irma, Jack’s wife, had made for him, Lin gently wrapped Will in a snug bundle. It was below freezing outside. Lin had halfheartedly liste
ned to the local weather report as it blared from the television mounted above her bed. An ice storm was predicted. Meteorologists said it could be the worst in north Georgia history. With only two small electric space heaters, her garage apartment would be freezing. How she wished she could take Will to her childhood home. While it wasn’t filled with love, at least it would be warm.

  But Lin recalled the torturous evenings of her childhood. She would rather die than subject her son to such a strict and oftentimes cruel upbringing. Every evening, as far back as she could remember, she’d had to pray while kneeling on the hardwood floor in the living room as her father read from the Bible.

  A die-hard Southern Baptist who considered himself a man of God, her father had constructed a pulpit for himself in the center of the living room from which he would gaze down at her with disdain, as though she weren’t good enough. Then, as if that weren’t bad enough, he’d make her recite the names of all the books of the Bible in order. If she missed one, he would make her start from the beginning until she named them correctly. Once, when she was about seven or eight, she remembered spending an entire night on her knees praying. She’d prayed hard, her father watching her the entire time. Little did he know she’d been praying for his immediate death. Many times she’d wet herself while on her knees in prayer. Her father wouldn’t allow her to change her clothes or bathe afterward.

  “The devil lives inside you, girly! Taking a shower ain’t gonna cleanse your dirty soul!”

  She’d winced the first time she’d heard those words. After a while, she became immune to his cruel words. She’d even gotten used to smelling like urine. The kids at school were relentless, calling her Miss Stinkypants. And she would do what she always did when she was hurting.