“A job? But you have the scholarship money to live on. Why do you need a job?”
“Because I need something to do,” Lauren said in an aggravated tone. “The classes are good, but I have too much spare time, Mom. I need something to occupy myself. I spent so much time looking for Sarah last semester. I’ll go crazy with nothing but classes and homework.”
Anna smiled. “Well, it seems you have it all figured out, darling. And it sounds like a good plan.”
Lauren looked relieved.
“I’ll keep you apprised about Sarah.”
Lauren thanked her. And the next day, Lauren was gone. And Anna was thankful that Lauren had figured something out to fill her time and her days. Anna felt badly for her daughter, and a part of her wanted to reach out and help her, to fix it somehow. But another part of her knew she needed to keep letting go. Lauren needed to paddle her own canoe.
As Sarah’s health improved, she became more bored and wanted to talk. And yet, her energy was so depleted that she couldn’t even talk for long without tiring. So it was that Anna began telling her stories. First she told her the old story of how Grandma Pearl and her sister had been forced to walk north up the beach with the rest of the Siuslaw Indians.
“At least they had each other,” Sarah said from where she was resting on the sofa with an old quilt over her legs.
Anna considered this. “You know, you’re right. I never quite thought of it like that. I’ve always thought of the hardship and deprivation . . . and how unjust it was to drive them up there like cattle . . . how so many of them died.”
“Well, that was wrong.” Sarah frowned. “I wasn’t saying . . .”
“I know.” Anna nodded. “But you do raise an interesting point. At least they had each other.” She sighed. “I think that’s what I was missing this past fall.”
“What?”
“Each other.” Anna set down the patchwork piece she was working. “It felt like everyone had left. First you . . . then Lauren . . . and then Hazel.”
“I still miss her.” Sarah looked close to tears now.
“She lived a good life. And one of the last things she told me was that she hoped you would get her cabin. Grandma Pearl’s cabin.”
Sarah’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“And it’s yours . . . if you want it.”
“All mine?” Sarah’s voice sounded almost like she was twelve again. “Really? I don’t have to share it with guests or anything?”
“It is all yours,” Anna assured her. “One hundred percent. You can even change the locks if you like.”
Sarah laughed. “No, I don’t have to do that.”
“But back to what you said, Sarah. I think that’s a problem in our world today. We don’t have that sense of family . . . of community . . . of tribe . . . not like they used to have back in the old days.”
“But you have your friends on the river—and guests at the inn. They love you, Grandma.”
“And I love them. But they constantly change . . . coming and going.”
Sarah seemed to consider this.
“I suppose I hoped for more from my own family. Then I realized I had to let them go, too. I can’t control you . . . or Lauren.” Now Anna told Sarah about what Hazel had said about the women in their family, how they all had their own trail of tears to walk. “In fact, I remember the day Hazel told me to tell you about that.”
“Really?”
Anna tried to recall. “I was on my way to get you from that commune down by Medford, and Hazel was encouraging me. But you weren’t there.”
Sarah sighed. “Yes. Jewel filled me in on that. I’d left with Aaron and Misty and the others.”
“Where were you going?”
Sarah bit her lip.
“I know you’d planned to meet up with some guru from India,” Anna supplied.
“That was the original plan. But he never showed up at the place.”
“The place where we got you in California?”
“No. Another place. A house down in the Bay Area. We waited there for several weeks. But we were running out of food and money. We found out the guru was still in India. It kind of started to fall apart then. Some of us were panhandling to get by. Then I got too sick to even do that. Some of our group was approached by the Peoples Temple. They were getting ready to go down there to work on the farm in Guyana.”
Anna’s stomach clenched. “Some of your friends joined the Peoples Temple?”
Sarah nodded. “I think so. I was going to go with them, but I started getting sick, and they wouldn’t let me go. Aaron and Misty heard about this other place—where you and Grandpa got me—they took me up there. But I just got sicker.”
“So, because of your illness, you were unable to leave the country?” Anna tried to keep her voice even. “Which is why we were able to find you?”
“Yeah. Maybe it was a good thing.”
Anna took a deep breath. “Yes . . . maybe so.” She could tell that Sarah had no idea of what had happened in Jonestown. And maybe she would tell her someday. But not now. There was no point in upsetting her about this now. Sarah wondered which of Sarah’s friends had gone down there. Aaron and Misty?
Later that day, she considered mentioning this to Jewel but, worried that Jewel might become upset and spill the sad news of Jonestown to Sarah, decided not to say a word. As a result, she told only Clark. He simply shook his head and sighed. “But by the grace of God,” he said sadly.
A few days after Christmas, Anna and Sarah were sitting together in the living room. Sarah was occupied with a book of short stories, and Anna was working on her current quilting project, but she could hear Jewel in the kitchen, getting an early start on dinner. It was one of those cozy afternoons, with a crackling fire in the fireplace and outside, sheets of rain pelted against the windows. The forecast was for gale force winds, and Clark and Skip had gone down to the dock to “batten down the hatches” and make sure the boats were secured.
“What are you making?” Sarah asked Anna.
Anna held up the quilt pieces she was stitching together and smiled. “It’s kind of a surprise.”
“Is it a quilt?”
“Sort of.”
Sarah gave her a puzzled look.
So Anna pulled out a couple of the other pieces she had already stitched together and held them up.
“It’s pretty, but what is it?” Sarah closed her book. “Some weird-shaped quilt?”
When Anna had unpacked Sarah’s few items of clothing last week, removing things from the brown paper bag to put in the laundry, she’d noticed that Sarah’s beloved patchwork dress seemed to be missing. However, the old Bible was there at the bottom of the bag. And that gave Anna real hope. She had no idea where that patchwork dress had gone or why it had been replaced with a couple of drab-looking muslin dresses, but she wondered if Sarah missed her favorite garment. And that’s when she got an idea.
“Well,” Anna began slowly. “I was hanging your dresses in your closet, and I saw that bag of fabric pieces and ribbons and laces—remember last summer when we got them?”
Sarah’s eyes flickered with recognition. “Oh, yeah. I was going to make some clothes.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I used them for this.”
“That’s okay.” Sarah studied the piece in Anna’s hand. “I like those colors together. And it’s cool the way you have that ribbon and lace worked into the pieces. You’re really good at it.”
“I’m still a novice,” Anna admitted. “But it’s been fun doing projects with the guests these past few months. And it was good therapy, plus I discovered I really enjoy piecing fabric together, but I don’t really need anymore quilts. So I got to thinking, what if I made patchwork clothes? It didn’t seem like it would be too difficult since I already know how to sew.”
“Is that what you’re doing now?” Sarah got up from the couch, coming over to look more closely at it.
Anna got up, too, and, on the dining table, she spre
ad the oddly shaped pieces out to make sense. “See these are the sleeves.” She fit them onto the bodice that she’d been working on then laid out the skirt so it resembled a dress. “What do you think?”
“Wow. It’s going to be beautiful.”
“I’m making it for you.”
Sarah turned and looked at Anna now. “Really?”
Anna smiled. “Yes. Do you like it?”
“I love it—thank you!” With shining eyes, Sarah hugged her and, to Anna’s surprise, started to sob.
“What is it?” Anna asked as she held her.
“It’s just that—I don’t deserve this. None of it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“But I’ve been so awful, Grandma.” Sarah stepped back now, looking directly at Anna. “I’ve hurt you and Grandpa so much. I don’t deserve you being kind to me—or that beautiful dress. Why are you being so good to me? Especially after I’ve been so bad?”
“Because you’re my granddaughter and I love you.” Now Anna couldn’t hold back her own tears. It seemed she’d been holding them back for days . . . maybe weeks . . . and months. She hugged Sarah again. “I’m so glad you’re home, Sarah. So very glad.” Now she held her at arm’s length and just smiled at her. “I missed you so much.”
“Grandma,” Sarah said solemnly. “You know you saved my life. I honestly don’t think I’d be alive if you hadn’t come for me . . . brought me home.”
Anna pulled a handkerchief from her sweater pocket, using it to wipe her eyes, and then handed it to Sarah. “Not just me, sweetheart. We all worked together to help you. Your grandpa, Jewel, Dr. Albers . . . even your mom.”
“But it was really you,” Sarah said with conviction. “You were behind it all, Grandma. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
Anna considered pointing out the important role Lauren had played, too, but she realized Sarah was still in a fragile place. If she needed to think that it was Anna lone who had saved her, maybe that was best for now. Anna didn’t want to do anything to upset her or set her back. Someday Sarah would learn about Lauren’s part in this, how she hunted the place down and got the wheels in motion.
Instead, Anna told Sarah how much she loved her. “You are part of me, Sarah. And I felt like something in me was broken when you were missing. It was as if a part of me was gone.”
“I’m sorry.” Sarah sniffed. “I know I hurt you, Grandma. And, really, I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I wish I could go back and do it differently.”
Anna smoothed Sarah’s hair back away from her face and smiled. “There’s no going back . . . only forward. I’m just glad you’re home—and that you’re getting well. And I hope you realize that this is your home. You will always have a home here on the river. And we will always love you, Sarah, no matter what you do or where you go. You will always be part of us and we’ll be a part of you. Even if you choose to live somewhere else, you must always know you have a home here. No matter what. Please, promise me that you’ll remember that—that you’ll believe it.”
Sarah nodded. “I do believe that . . . and I’ll remember it, too.”
“Good.” Anna wanted to ask her why Sarah didn’t believe this before but then thought better of it. No going backward. “Do you want to help me with this?” Anna held up the unfinished piece for the bodice, and Sarah nodded eagerly.
“Can I?”
“Sure.”
Together they worked on the dress . . . and by New Year’s Day it was finished and Sarah wore it all day. Anna even got out her camera and took several pictures of Sarah. With the sallowness gone and the roses returning to her cheeks, Sarah looked prettier than ever. After Anna got the photos developed, she would send some to Lauren so that she could see how Sarah was improving.
Sarah continued getting better and stronger, and after a month, they all decided she was well enough to move into Grandma Pearl’s cabin. It was one of those rare January days that felt like summer. Anna had asked Jewel to give the cabin a thorough cleaning and to box up and remove all of Hazel’s personal items to make room for Sarah’s things. However, there were still a lot of Hazel’s things in the cabin.
“Would you like me to clear the cabin out for you?” Anna asked her as she walked out to the cabin. Anna was carrying a box of Sarah’s clothes.
“Clear what out?” Sarah asked.
She told her what Jewel had done. “But Hazel’s books and things are still in there.”
“Do we have to clear all her stuff out?”
“Well, no. But it’s a small cabin. You might need more space.”
“Is it okay if I figure it out?”
Anna sighed. “I’d be glad if you did.” She paused by the porch. “But only if you promise not to overdo. Remember what Dr. Albers said.” Anna had just taken Sarah to his office for a follow-up appointment the day before yesterday. While he said she was making marvelous progress, he still reminded her to take it easy and that she could still regress.
“I won’t do too much,” Sarah promised as they went inside. “I just want a chance to save things that are special. I loved Hazel, too, you know.”
“I know. And I know you have great respect for old things.” She smiled at her. “Just remember to pace yourself. And don’t lift anything heavy. I know some of Hazel’s thesis papers are in boxes, and we can store those in the attic. I don’t feel comfortable throwing anything away just yet. Even though she made copies.”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of getting rid of any of that.”
“Good. Those papers are precious to this place. That’s our heritage she’s recorded.”
“And I really liked reading some her notebooks last summer. I plan to read some more when I go through it.” Sarah pulled a book from the shelf and opened it. “Maybe I’ll become an expert on Siuslaw history, too.”
Anna set the box on the wooden kitchen table. “That would make Hazel so happy, Sarah. In fact, I’ll bet she recorded those stories more for you than any of us.”
“Why for me?”
“Because it was the tradition of our people to pass stories down to the next generation.” Anna smiled. “That would be you. And we expect you to pass them along to your children . . . and your children’s children.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I ever want to have children, Grandma.”
Anna just nodded. “Well, not now anyway. You might change your mind someday.” At least Anna hoped she would. For now, she would let it go.
23
Anna could tell by the tone in Lauren’s voice that she was lonely. She had called to thank Anna for the photos. “Sarah looks so good,” Lauren told her. “And she almost looked happy too.”
“I think she is almost happy,” Anna assured her.
“Does she still have those strange beliefs? Like she did last summer?”
“I’m not sure. I think being so sick might’ve taken some of that out of her.” Anna looked out the front window, out over the river. The sun was just starting to shine through a hole in the clouds, making the surface of the water to shimmer like diamonds just as Sarah was paddling the canoe up to the dock. “I wish I had my camera right now,” Anna told her. When Lauren asked, Anna described the scene out her window.
“Oh, I wish I was there!”
“Then come,” Anna told her.
“No . . . I don’t think so.”
“Why not, Lauren? Just come for a weekend. You can stay in Babette’s house. Sarah doesn’t even have to know you’re here.”
“I have to work this weekend.”
Anna knew that Lauren was working at a coffee shop on campus. “How is that going?”
“Okay.”
“Will you come for Skip and Jewel’s wedding?” Anna asked hopefully. “On Valentine’s Day?”
“I don’t think so, Mom.”
“But Jewel wants you to be here,” Anna told her.
“Yes . . . but Sarah doesn’t.”
“Sarah is going to have to accept that you are part
of this family, Lauren.”
“Maybe someday. But not yet. I don’t want to push her, Mom. She needs time.”
“But you need to come home, Lauren. I can hear it in your voice.”
“No . . . I’m fine. Really, I am.”
“But I miss you, sweetie.” Anna sighed. Why was it that she couldn’t have both Lauren and Sarah at the same time? Would she ever?
“I miss you, too, Mom. And, you’re right, I do miss the river.” She laughed at herself. “Whoever would’ve thought? Remember how I used to tell you I hated it?”
“Yes . . . but you grew up.”
“And now I feel like I’m banished.”
“Oh, Lauren.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to say that. And I know you didn’t banish me. I’ve banished myself. But hopefully it’s just temporary.”
Anna changed the subject to Lauren’s classes, inquiring how she was doing, and Lauren’s voice cheered up a little. But when Anna pressed Lauren to consider coming home for spring vacation, Lauren shut down again. “I plan on working that week,” she said.
“What about summer?” Anna asked hopefully. “I really could use your help during the big season.”
“Didn’t I tell you that I plan to take classes this summer? I’m hoping to finish this degree by fall.”
“Oh . . . I didn’t know. I thought you were coming home . . .”
“Sorry. You’ll have to get someone else to help manage. What about Diane? I don’t think she was going to take summer classes. And she was really doing a great job before.”
“Yes.” Anna sighed. “I’ll check to see what her plans are. Hopefully she’s coming to the wedding. I know Jewel asked Janelle to be a bridesmaid . . . along with Sarah.” Anna chuckled. “And me. Do you think there’s ever been an older bridesmaid?”
“Make sure Clark takes lots of photos.”
“Yes. And we’ll send some to you.”
Anna knew that Lauren had been cheered up a bit by the time they ended the call, but she also knew this was hard on Lauren. And it hurt Anna to think that Lauren no longer felt welcome in her own home. Still, she told herself it was just a matter of time.
In the meantime, Anna had her hands full doing the tasks that Lauren would normally enjoy doing. The goal was to get all the cabins fully equipped kitchens so that when the inn began cutting back on meals in the dining room, the guests would be well set up to do their own cooking. This meant buying pots and pans and utensils, and Anna was constantly making and remaking lists. Also, she wanted to make the dining hall kitchen more welcoming to guests for their own use. And they needed to plan for a well-stocked store. Anna knew these were tasks Lauren would’ve loved being involved in . . . but Lauren was not here.
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