Fifteen
“Where do we go from here?” Sinda asked Glen as she took a chair directly across from him.
Glen rapped his knuckles on the kitchen table and looked thoughtful. “I want to get to the bottom of the missing doll parts, but first I think we need to figure out some way to get our relationship back on track.”
“I let you put up my screen door,” she reminded.
“I’m talking about our personal relationship.”
A film of tears obscured her vision. “But, Glen—”
He held up one hand. “I know. You have secrets from your past and can’t make any kind of commitment.”
She nodded in response and clasped her hands around her knees to keep them from shaking.
“We all have things from our past that we’d like to forget,” he said softly. “But God doesn’t want us to dwell on the past. So why don’t we pray about this, then we’ll deal with one problem at a time.” He paused and flicked a crumb off the table. “I think it might help to talk about what’s troubling you before we pray.”
She counted on her fingers. “Lost doll parts. . .a vinyl head in the freezer. . .how’s that for starters?”
He nodded. “We’ll take care of that in good time, but right now we need to deal with the reason you won’t allow me into your life.”
Sinda wiped away the unwanted tears she felt on her cheeks and avoided his gaze. Silence wove around her, filling up the space between them. “I–I haven’t dated much, and I’ve never been in love. Even the thought of it scares me.” She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I could ever love a man, so there’s no point in leading you on.”
“What are you afraid of, Sinda?”
“I’m afraid of love. I’m afraid of being hurt.”
Glen’s thumb stroked the top of her hand, and her skin tingled with each feathery touch. “Who are you angry with?” he coaxed.
Sinda jerked her hand away. Glen was treading on dangerous territory now. “What makes you think I’m angry?”
He leaned forward and studied her intently. “It’s written all over your face. I hear it in the tone of your voice.”
“Your daughter thinks she’s a detective, and now you’re moonlighting as a psychologist,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m only trying to help, but I can’t if you won’t let me.”
Sinda’s nerves were tight like a rubber band. Angry, troubled thoughts tumbled around in her head, and she stared off into space. She wanted to run, to hide, and never have to deal with her pain. “My mother! I’m angry with my mother!” Sinda’s hand went instinctively to her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that. It wasn’t for Glen to know.
Glen seemed unaffected by her outrage. “What did your mother do?” he prompted.
Sinda sniffed deeply. She’d already let the cat out of the bag, so she may as well get the rest off her chest. “She left my father when I was ten years old.”
“Left him? You mean she died?”
Sinda shook her head, swallowing back the pain and humiliation. “She walked out.”
“Was there another man involved?”
A shuddering sigh escaped Sinda’s trembling lips, and she was powerless to stop it. “No!” She gulped in a deep breath. “At least, I don’t think so. She left us a note, but it didn’t explain her reason for abandoning us. Her message said only that she was going and would never come back. There was no other explanation—not even an apology.” Sinda picked at an imaginary piece of fuzz on her peach-colored T-shirt. “Mother was there when I went to bed one night, and she was gone the next morning when I awoke.”
Glen reached for her hand again, and this time she didn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry, Sinda.”
“My father was devastated by her betrayal, and he. . .” Her voice trailed off. How could she explain about Dad? She’d never fully understood him herself.
“I’m sure it must have been hard on both you and your father,” Glen acknowledged. “If you’re ready, I’d like to pray now, then we can talk some more.”
She shrugged. “I–I guess so.”
With her hand held firmly in his, Sinda bowed her head. “Dear Lord,” Glen prayed, “Sinda has some pain from her past that needs to be healed. We know You are the Great Physician and it’s within Your power to heal physically and emotionally. Please touch Sinda’s heart and let her feel Your presence. Help us get to the bottom of the missing doll parts, and we thank You in advance for Your answers. Amen.”
When Sinda opened her eyes, she was able to offer Glen a brief smile. She felt a bit better after his beseeching prayer. It was a relief to have him know some of her past, and it was comforting to sit with him here in her kitchen. “Whenever anyone asks about Mother, I sort of leave the impression that she died,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “To me she is dead. I hate what she did to Dad.”
“To your dad?” Glen exclaimed. “What about what she did to you? Have you ever dealt with that?”
Sinda shook her head. “I try not to think about it. Dad was all I had, and until he died, I devoted my whole life to him.” She gulped and tried to regain her composure. “I hadn’t thought about Mother in years. Not until that stupid trunk arrived. It was hers, but I thought Dad threw it out after she left.”
“Have you looked through it yet? It might help heal some of your pain.”
Sinda jumped up and began pacing the floor. “I still can’t find a key that fits the lock. My lawyer said Dad wanted me to have the trunk, but he didn’t give him a key.”
“I’m sure the lock can be broken. I’d be happy to do it for you,” Glen offered.
Sinda stopped pacing and turned to face him. “I’m not sure I want to look at her things. I’ve spent most of my life trying to forget my mother. She wanted out of our lives and never made any effort to contact us, so why should I care about anything that belonged to her?”
“I’ll stay with you. We can deal with this together.”
“What about the missing doll parts?” Sinda grasped the back of a chair and grimaced. “I thought we were going to get to the bottom of that problem.”
He nodded. “We are, but right now I think you should look through the trunk.”
She held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
❧
Sinda clicked on the overhead light in the storage room upstairs, and the bulky trunk came into view. She couldn’t believe she’d actually told Glen the story of how Mother had abandoned her and Dad. It was a secret she’d promised never to share with anyone. Even her best friend Carol didn’t know the truth. Glen Olsen must have a powerful effect on me.
Glen knelt beside the trunk and studied the lock. “I’d better go home and get a hacksaw.” He glanced up at Sinda. “Unless you have one.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. After Dad died, I sold most of his tools. All I kept were the basics—a hammer, screwdriver, and a few other small items.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a flash.” Glen stood up. Her face lifted to meet his gaze, and she wanted to melt in the warmth of his sapphire blue eyes. “If you’re nervous about being here alone, you’re welcome to come along,” he said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll be okay—as long as I stay away from the basement.”
Glen dropped a kiss to her forehead, then he was gone. She stared down at the trunk and, giving her thoughts free reign, an image of her mother came to mind. Sinda closed her eyes, trying to shut out the vision, but her mother’s face, so much like her own, was as clear as the antique crystal vase sitting on her fireplace mantel.
“You did this to me, Mother,” Sinda sobbed. “Why couldn’t you let the past stay in the past?” She trembled. Was there something wrong with her? Hadn’t Dad accused her of being just like Mother? Hadn’t he told her that if she didn’t exercise control over her emotions, she’d end up hurting some poor unsuspecting man, the way Mother had hurt him?
In spite of the pain he’d often
inflicted upon her, Sinda’s heart ached for her dad. He’d been the victim of his wife’s abandonment. Marla Shull had given no thought to anyone but herself, leaving him to care for their only child. What a heartless thing to do, Sinda thought bitterly. Mother couldn’t have felt any love for me, or you either, Dad. You don’t walk out on someone you love.
Sinda leaned over and fingered the lock on the trunk. “You made Dad the way he was, Mother, and I’m the one who suffered for it.” If only I hadn’t been so much like you. If only. . .
The prayer Glen prayed earlier replayed itself in her mind. It seemed like a genuine prayer—a plea to God for help. Dad’s prayers always seemed genuine too—at least those he prayed at church meetings.
Sinda thought about the last time she’d gone to church. It was the night before Dad’s heart attack, and they’d gone to a revival service. She would never forget the sight of her father kneeling at the altar during the close of the meeting. Had it been for show, like all the other times, or was Dad truly repentant for his sins?
Her mind took her back to the evening before the revival, when she and Dad had argued about the steak she’d fixed for dinner. He said it was overly done, and she’d tried to explain that the oven was too hot and needed repairing. She could still see the hostility on Dad’s face when his hand connected to the side of her head. She could feel the pain and humiliation as she rushed to her room in tears.
That night at church, with Dad lying prostrate before the wooden altar, Sinda had been convinced that his display of emotions was only for attention, and at that moment, she vowed never to step inside another church. There were hypocrites there, and even those who weren’t didn’t seem able to discern when someone was physically and emotionally abusing their daughter. Whenever Dad walked into the sanctuary, he put on his “Mr. Christian” mask, but it fell off the moment they returned home.
Sinda hated her father’s cruel treatment and hypocrisy at church, but she hated herself even more. After all, it was because she reminded him so much of her mother that Dad treated her the way he did.
Glen entered the room again, carrying a small hacksaw, and Sinda was thankful for the interruption. She’d spent enough time reliving the past and its painful memories.
“It’s time to go to work,” Glen announced. He knelt beside the trunk and quickly put the saw to good use. A few minutes later the lock snapped in two and fell to the floor with a thud.
Sinda took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and Glen moved aside. “You can open it now.”
She knelt in front of the trunk, grasped the handle, and slowly opened the lid. There were a few items of clothing on top—a faded bridal veil, several lace handkerchiefs, and a delicate satin christening gown with a matching bonnet. Sinda fingered the soft material, remembering pictures that proved it had been her own. She moved the clothes aside and continued to explore.
“Would you rather be alone?” Glen asked, offering her a sympathetic smile.
She gazed at him through her pain and confusion. “No, please stay. I need the moral support.”
He reached out and touched her arm. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
There was a small, green velvet box underneath the clothes. Sinda opened it, revealing several pieces of jewelry she recognized as her mother’s. She placed the jewelry box and the clothes on a chair, then carried on with her search through the trunk. A few seconds later, she pulled out an old photo album. “There’s probably a lot of pictures in here, and I’d like to look at them. Maybe we should go downstairs where it’s more comfortable.”
Glen shrugged. “Tara’s spending the day with her friend across the street, so you’ve got me all to yourself.”
“Let’s go to the living room.” She stood, then moved quickly toward the door.
They sat on the couch for over an hour, going through the album and talking about Sinda’s childhood before her mother walked out.
“Your mother was a beautiful woman,” Glen remarked. “You look a lot like her.”
“I do have her green eyes and auburn hair,” Sinda agreed. She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Dad used to say I had her personality too.”
“I’m sure he meant it as a compliment.”
Sinda snapped the album shut, nearly catching his fingers inside. “He didn’t mean it that way at all! He meant it as a warning. He used to tell me that if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up wrecking some poor man’s life the way Mother ruined his.”
“You didn’t believe him, I hope.”
She bit down hard on her bottom lip, until she tasted blood. “I had no reason not to.”
Glen took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults,” he said softly.
She tipped her head to one side. “What?”
“It’s a quote from the book of Psalms,” he explained, “and it means—”
“Never mind,” she said, cutting him off. She placed the album on the coffee table and stood up. “I’ve had enough reminiscing for one day. I’d really like to look for those missing doll parts.”
“Let’s start in the basement,” Glen suggested.
She was glad he hadn’t kept prying into her past. There was too much pain there to deal with right now.
Glen led the way, and when they reached their destination, Sinda turned on a light in the room where she worked. “As you can see,” she said, motioning with her hand, “I keep the dolls that come in for repairs on the shelf marked Emergency Room.”
Glen whistled. “Pretty impressive!”
“I use the wooden table in the center of the room to do the work, then when a doll is done, I place it over there.” She pointed to a shelf labeled Recovery Room.
“What about the parts and supplies you use for repairing? Where do you keep those?”
“Right there.” She indicated another row of shelves on the opposite wall.
Glen nodded. “Are the missing pieces from a particular doll patient or from your supply of parts?”
“From my supply. Why do you ask?”
“Isn’t it possible that you’ve already used the missing parts to repair some doll? Maybe you forgot which ones you used and thought they were still in a box. It could be that they’re not really missing at all.”
“There’s just one flaw in your theory, Glen.”
“What’s that?”
“I keep good track of my inventory. To have three or four different parts missing at the same time doesn’t add up.”
Glen shrugged his shoulders. “It was only an idea.”
“And let’s not forget about that doll head in the freezer,” Sinda reminded.
“How could I? It even gave me the creeps.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to work. Those parts have to be down here someplace.”
Sixteen
The search for the missing doll parts turned up nothing. Glen was a bit frustrated, but Sinda seemed to be filled with despair. They’d given up for the day and left the basement for the comfort of her living room, and now Glen sat on the couch with his arm draped across her shoulders. “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything. I can’t figure it out.”
Sinda lifted her head slightly and looked at him. “It’s not your fault.”
“We still have no doll parts, and from the way you’re looking at me, I’d say I haven’t done much to help alleviate your fears.”
“Just having you here has helped.”
They sat in silence for awhile, then Glen came up with a plan. “Since being down in the basement makes you so uptight, why not let me come over and give you a hand?”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Doing what?”
“Repairing dolls. I’m sure there’s something I can do to help.”
“Are you teasing me?”
He saw the skepticism in her squinted eyes and shook his head. “Who knows, it might even prove to be kind of fun.”
“Oh, Glen,” Sinda said shakily, “that’s such a sweet offer,
but—”
“I can come over every evening for a few hours, and on the Saturdays I’m not on my mail route.”
“I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Why not? Are you afraid I’ll make your doll patients even sicker?” he asked with a grin.
“It’s not that. I’m sure you’d do fine, but you’ve got your own life. You have responsibilities to your daughter.”
“Maybe Tara could tag along,” he suggested.
“You two have better things to do than repair dolls and hold my shaking hand. Just because I’m acting like a big chicken doesn’t mean you have to baby-sit me.” Sinda paused as she slid her tongue across her lower lip. “Besides, you can’t always be down there with me.”
“Why not? I’d gladly spend my free time helping if it would make you feel better.”
“I go to the basement for lots of things that don’t involve doll repairing,” she reminded him. “My washer and dryer are down there, and so is my freezer.”
Glen lifted Sinda’s chin with his thumb. “I think I’m falling in love with you, and I believe God brought you to Elmwood for a purpose,” he said, changing the subject.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he touched her lips with the tips of his fingers and whispered, “If we give this relationship a chance, we might even have a future together.”
Sinda sat up straight, her back rigid, and her lips set in a thin line. “We can’t have a future together, Glen. I can’t love you.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
She averted his steady gaze. “I want to love you, but I can’t. My life is all mixed up, and my past would always be in our way. Please don’t pressure me.”
The depth of sadness he saw reflected in her green eyes made his stomach clench, and he nodded in mock defeat. “I’ll drop the subject.” For now, anyway.
❧
It had been three days since Sinda found the doll head in the freezer, and three days since Glen had declared his feelings for her. He’d phoned several times, and he’d come over twice to see how was she doing. She’d assured him that everything was fine, but it was a lie. How could anything be fine when she had doll parts unaccounted for and love burning in her heart for a man with whom she could never have a future?
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