by Lea Sims
“There isn’t anything I need from that house,” Delaney said in an even tone, not taking her eyes from the lawn. Claire watched her closely.
That house.
Claire found that statement very odd. Something wasn’t right. She knew from what Elizabeth had told her that Delaney had been very anxious to leave home. Once she graduated from SCAD, she moved to New York and never looked back. It was a great heartache to Elizabeth that her niece had felt so little attachment to her home and family, and she and Claire had often discussed how baffling and disappointing it all was. Elizabeth wondered if Delaney resented having to live with them after her parents died. Secretly, Claire had always felt it incredibly selfish and ungrateful of Delaney to turn her back on her aunt and uncle—to rarely ever come home or call to check on them. When Jimmy died ten years ago, Delaney had not even come home for the funeral nor had she come home to support Elizabeth during the eighteen months prior to Jimmy’s death, when he had gone through some pretty grueling rounds of chemo and radiation for liver cancer and required a tremendous amount of hands-on care.
Claire could never account for the degree to which Delaney had chosen to separate herself from Elizabeth. She could chalk it up to youthful selfishness early on or preoccupation with a high-profile career now, but it didn’t align with the earnest girl Delaney had been as a child. Claire remembered her as a bright and eager child who even after her parents died was always at the church with her aunt, helping with outreaches, singing in the children’s choir at Christmas, and never missing a Sunday school lesson. But as she thought back on Delaney’s early teen years, Claire couldn’t understand how that fresh-faced young girl had become the detached and inscrutable young woman who had emerged from high school. It was as if a light had slowly died in her somehow. Claire’s heart ached at this recollection.
“You have a lot of personal items of your own there, I believe,” Claire said hesitantly. “Are you sure you don’t want to at least go through those boxes?”
Delaney turned to look directly into Claire’s eyes, and with a frankness that was unusual for her, she replied, “I have absolutely no desire to set foot in that house, Claire.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. It would have been better to make light of the inquiry and skirt the questions that would inevitably follow the answer she’d given. But the events of the last few days had already wreaked some havoc on her typically stoic nature, and her defenses, at least for the moment, were down. She just didn’t have it in her to pretend anymore.
Claire took in the set line of Delaney’s jaw and the cold edge of her response, and her concern doubled. “That’s a pretty powerful statement, Laney. Do you want to elaborate or leave it at that?”
It was an invitation. The question hung in the air between them for a moment, and Claire could see the wrestling match occurring behind Delaney’s eyes—struggling with whether to open up or let it pass. Claire gave her a gentle nudge. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. But there may be no better time than the present to unload it, honey. And I promise you, I’m a safe place.”
Delaney’s eyes narrowed a bit as though weighing the trustworthiness of Claire’s offer. But still she said nothing.
“Can I ask you something?” Claire said before the pause became awkward for both of them. Delaney nodded. “Did you resent having to come live with Jimmy and Elizabeth when your parents died? That had to have been hard on you.”
“It was,” Delaney nodded slowly. “And if you’re asking me whether I wanted to come live with them…no, I didn’t.”
“You know, Elizabeth always felt like you resented her for taking you from your home,” Claire said with a sigh. “But surely you can see that she was just trying to do what was best for you, right?”
Delaney scrunched her face up as if the question pained her. “I—I know that, Claire. I don’t blame her for any of that. In fact, I don’t blame her for anything at all.”
Claire shook her head in confusion. The girl wasn’t making any sense. “Then why did you avoid her? Why are you avoiding going into her home? I don’t understand.”
Delaney took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could feel the truth banging in desperation on the locked door of her mind, begging to be let out. She had never told anyone, not even Danny, what had happened to her. She had never even uttered the words out loud to herself. But something had unraveled inside of her today, and she was afraid she would never be able to roll it back up and tuck it away again. With her eyes still closed and her voice barely a whisper, she finally spoke.
“My aunt was not the only one who lived in that house, Claire.”
Claire blinked in surprise, uncomprehending at first, and then her eyes widened. Jimmy. This was about Jimmy, not Elizabeth. Claire’s mind rapidly scanned the landscape of her memories through this new lens, and she was shocked that she hadn’t seen it before. It was so obvious. The man had been difficult to deal with. His drinking had been almost unbearable on Elizabeth. How could it not have affected Delaney, too? She sighed and shook her head, “Your uncle was one of the worst alcoholics I’ve ever seen. He was pretty good at hiding it back when you were growing up, but I imagine you saw more of it at home than any of us did.”
“You have no idea,” Delaney whispered hoarsely, throat aching with the threat of tears. She exhaled a ragged breath, pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
“I’m so sorry, Laney.” Claire did not know what else to say. Life had certainly dealt this beautiful girl some tough blows. She lost both parents at a tender age and in such a tragic way. Then she was whisked away to live with relatives and had to spend the rest of her childhood in a house with an unpredictable drunk. No wonder she had run off to New York and never looked back. With her baseball cap, bare feet, and knees tucked to her chest, she looked like a little girl, and Claire wanted so badly to pull her close and comfort her. “Elizabeth said Jimmy’s drinking could really get out of hand at times…that he had such a Jekyll-and-Hyde personality, she sometimes had no idea who she was married to.”
“Sometimes?” Delaney repeated bitterly. “My aunt never had a clue who she was married to.”
Something about the vehemence of Delaney’s remark made alarm bells go off in Claire’s head, the little hairs on her arms standing on end. “What do you mean by that?” she asked worriedly. “I know he could show a temper if he wanted to, but I didn’t think he ever got rough or abusive. He didn’t lay a hand on you, did he, Laney?” Her eyes searched Delaney’s face in obvious concern.
Delaney hesitated. Jumping off here would mean diving into deep water. The words once said could not be unsaid. But her aunt was now gone and there was no one else to protect from the truth—a truth that Delaney could no longer bear the burden of carrying alone. She was only beginning to realize how toxic it had been to hold onto for so long. So, in that heartbeat of a moment, she put her faith in Claire Sheffield and hoped the tender-hearted woman could handle what she was about to hear.
“Actually, Claire,” she answered, “laying his hands on me was my uncle’s favorite pastime.”
Delaney watched confusion sweep across Claire’s face and saw the instant the full implication of her statement finally sank in. Claire’s face transformed in an instant from confused to horrified, confirming to Delaney that no one, including her Aunt Beth, had ever suspected her uncle of this behavior. Delaney had always believed her aunt had simply been oblivious to what was going on. Given Claire’s expression, she knew her Aunt Beth had never expressed a suspicion to her friend, which meant she probably never had one.
“Whaa-at?” Claire exhaled in shock, then stood up suddenly, “NO.” She leaned over and braced her hands on the porch railing and looked out across the yard. She felt like she’d just been punched hard in the stomach. In all the conversations about Delaney she’d had with Elizabeth, neither one of them had ever conceived of such an unimaginable possi
bility. She swung around to face the girl, compelled by heartache to ask, “Do you think Elizabeth knew about this…or suspected it?”
Delaney shook her head. “I don’t think so. My uncle was a master manipulator, Claire. He knew how to navigate around her.” She lowered her eyes to her hands and added, “He also knew my aunt was a very heavy sleeper.”
“Oh dear Lord,” Claire whispered hoarsely, closing her eyes in pain as the truth hit her in waves. Delaney’s statement wiped away any hope Claire might have had that they were talking about an isolated instance or two of drunken groping. “It was that bad…that often?” She didn’t even know what to ask or how to respond. Did she even want to know these details? She felt sick to her stomach.
Delaney stood up and put her arm around Claire, feeling oddly compelled to comfort the woman. “Yes, it was bad and it was often. Years, actually. And it started before my parents died, which is why I didn’t want to live there. It had nothing to do with my Aunt Beth.”
Claire turned to her with tears glistening in her eyes. “You were only…what…ten years old when your parents died? And this started earlier than that?”
Delaney nodded. “I was six, I think, the first time.”
Claire drew in a sharp, pain-filled breath. “Six? That man put his hands on you when you were six years old?” She felt ill, and her knees almost buckled beneath her. For the first time since getting the call about Elizabeth’s death, she was actually grateful her friend was not there. If Elizabeth Lowell had ever learned this truth, it would have absolutely killed her. She would have been devastated to know that the niece she loved like a daughter had been the victim of such heinous abuse right under her nose. And by her own husband. Claire almost couldn’t wrap her mind around it.
“This is why I stayed away, Claire,” Delaney said thickly, a small sob tearing from her chest. “I couldn’t deal with it and I couldn’t confront it, not without bringing the whole world down on my Aunt Beth, so it was just easier to get as far away from it as I could.”
Claire’s heart pounded painfully in her chest. She suddenly saw Delaney with clarity. This brave, beautiful girl had somehow managed to emerge from a horrific childhood, get an education and make a life for herself when many would have ended up so broken of mind and soul that they couldn’t function at all. Oh, Elizabeth, we had it all so wrong.
She put one hand on either side of Delaney’s face and said, “Oh, Laney, I am so, so sorry. I had no idea. No idea.” And without asking permission, she pulled the girl into her arms and held her close. Delaney didn’t even think about putting up a fight. There was a bewildered and wounded little girl inside her that had needed this moment for a very long time. Her Aunt Beth was the person she would have turned to as a girl, and yet she had never been able to bring this burden to her. It somehow seemed appropriate that when she was finally able to share her truth, it was to her aunt’s best friend. And today of all days.
So it was in this frame of mind that a normally guarded and emotionally detached Delaney Anderson laid her head on Claire Sheffield’s shoulder and let the tears flow freely from the now open door of her secret pain. Apart from the occasional “I’m so sorry” that Claire whispered while rubbing her back, neither of them moved or said a word for a long time.
It was into this scene that Drew stepped cautiously as he came through the screen door from the kitchen, having just loaded the dishwasher and grabbed another cup of coffee. He cleared his throat slightly to get their attention.
“My apologies,” he said with a nod to them both. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Just thought you could use these.” He held out a box of Kleenex to the two of them.
Drew bit his lip to keep from grinning back at them because the sight of them was both hilarious and endearing. Claire’s hair was disheveled and matted against one side of her head. Delaney’s ball cap had been twisted to the side from laying her face against Claire’s shoulder. Both of them were barefooted and sported war-paint mascara streaks down their cheeks. They were a sight to behold.
Delaney giggled. “Your timing with tissues is impeccable, Drew. It’s a gift, truly.” She smiled at him through her tears, and his heart wobbled a little.
“Ah maybe it’s my spiritual gift. Some people can give a word of knowledge or a word of prophecy at just the right moment. I can impart a Kleenex.” He grinned widely, and both women laughed back at him. “Seriously though, are you ladies okay?”
Claire gave Delaney a squeeze and nodded at Drew. “It’s been a long day, and I think we both just needed a good cry.”
Delaney agreed but shook her head in surprise at herself. “I think I’ve cried more today than I have in the last ten years.” She shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t like to cry.”
“‘Record my misery; list my tears on your scroll. Are they not in your record?’” Claire quoted softly, looking into Delaney’s eyes.
Delaney cocked her head to the side, a curious look on her face. “Who said that?”
“King David,” Claire said. “Psalm 56.”
“What does that mean… ‘List my tears on your scroll’?” Delaney asked.
“It means that none of our tears are wasted on God.” Claire’s eyes never left her face. “Not one of them goes unseen. God keeps a record of all of them.”
“Even the ones we don’t shed?” Delaney wondered.
“Especially the ones we don’t shed.”
“In troubled families, abuse and neglect are permitted; it’s the talking about them that is forbidden.”
—Marcia Sirota
A short while later, Claire and Drew stood on the front lawn watching Delaney’s Jeep back down the gravel drive, Rogue’s ebony head hanging out the passenger side window. Delaney stuck her head out of her own window, and said, “See you in the morning, Drew! Bye, Claire!” Drew nodded, and Claire smiled widely and blew her a kiss as the Jeep turned and headed down the street.
As Delaney’s taillights disappeared in the distance, Claire exhaled wearily, the smile slipping from her face. Drew glanced at her and saw the strain of the day etched into her brow. He put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s been a long day, Ms. Claire. You need to get some rest. I’m going to take those bags in the kitchen out to the curb, and then I’m going to head home.”
“Stay a little bit, Drew. I could use the company.” She turned and walked up the steps to the front door.
After Drew took the garbage to the street, he came back inside to find Claire tucked into her recliner, with a fleecy floral throw across her legs. She had a tissue clenched in her fist, chin resting on her hand, and was staring teary-eyed across the room. Drew really thought she needed to go to bed, but he knew she probably wouldn’t sleep well either way. The days ahead without Elizabeth were going to be tough for Claire. They had been inseparable. When those two had shown up at Refresh Station six years ago, it was like a pair of angels had walked in the room. They were a huge lift to the church in so many ways. They were often referred to as the “wonder twins,” because they stepped into the life of the church without hesitation and with so much to offer. Both retired widows, they had a lot of time on their hands, and in Claire’s case, a lot of resources. There were many times Pastor Jason would tell them half-jokingly that he needed to put them on the payroll. They served, cooked, ministered, prayed, gave rides, hosted guest families…whatever was needed whenever it was needed.
The thought of Elizabeth being gone was unbearable to all of them. Everyone in the church would need time to adjust to the breakup of their dynamic duo. Seeing Ms. Claire at the church now would be like watching someone walk around with only one shoe on, wanting to tell them to put the other shoe back on but knowing that shoe was gone. It would be a sight he wasn’t sure any of them would be able to get used to, and of course, Claire would have to adjust to ambulating alone, without her other half.
He sat down in the chair next to her. “
Are you sure you don’t want to head to bed? It’s getting late and I know you must be exhausted.”
“I am tired, but no, not ready for bed yet. I’ve always been a night owl, Drew.” She smiled wanly. “I need some time to settle my mind before I can sleep. And I don’t think I’ll be settling my mind for a while.” She sniffed and wiped her wet eyes.
“I know it’s going to be hard without Elizabeth,” he acknowledged with kindness. “It will take some time, Claire.”
Claire’s face crumpled up in sorrow, as tears began to flow again. She shook her head at him and said firmly, “I know it will. I know God will see me through this season. He’ll teach me how to live my life without Elizabeth just as he taught me to live it without Dale. The older you get, the more you realize how fragile life is, how numbered our days are, and how constant the presence of God is. I’ll be alright.” She blew her nose into her tissue and then shook her head as though trying to make sense of something difficult. “Honestly, right now, I can’t focus on any of that because I can’t stop thinking about Delaney.”
“She had a rough day,” he agreed.
“She’s had a rough life,” Claire said wearily, staring pensively across the room at nothing in particular, her mind preoccupied with Delaney’s earlier revelations.
“Ms. Claire, there’s something you need to know,” Drew said in a low, hesitant voice. “I don’t think you realized the kitchen window was propped open when you were out there with Delaney earlier.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment before it dawned on her what he was saying. She looked alarmed and began shaking her head. “Please tell me you didn’t hear that conversation,” she whispered.