Where Yesterday Lives

by Karen Kingsbury

  Aaron was the last to approach the casket and he did so reluctantly. He wore his sunglasses and his tall frame looked uncomfortable as he knelt before his father’s body.

  Ellen watched from a distance, and although Aaron neither moved a muscle nor spoke a word, she knew his pain. Not because of anything obvious about the way he grieved for his father. But because of the angle at which she was sitting. He had his back to the others, but she could see his face, the dark glasses. And the steady stream of tears that ran from beneath them the entire time he remained on his knees.

  At five-thirty the first of the relatives began to arrive and the Barrett siblings found their separate places in the chapel from which to watch and remember. It was a quiet time and within two hours everyone but Ellen, her siblings, and her mother had left for the night.

  “Mrs. Barrett, it’s time to seal the casket.” It was the director, Mr. Whitson.

  Mom had been talking quietly to Amy and Frank and she seemed startled by his statement. “Oh. Of course.” She stood up and looked at the others.

  “You can join me if you want,” she said in a voice loud enough for them all to hear. She positioned herself close to the casket and stared a final time at her husband’s face. Ellen watched Megan rise and move to their mother’s side. She placed an arm around Mom’s waist for support. Aaron joined her, too, bracing Mom on her opposite side, while Amy and Frank joined hands and stood nearby. Ellen and Jane remained in their seats on different sides of the chapel.

  “Good-bye, John.” Mom’s smile was tender through her tears. “You made me so happy.”

  Ellen rested her arms on the back of the pew in front of her and let her head drop. She couldn’t watch, couldn’t bear to see him disappear behind the closing lid of a coffin.

  She heard them unhook the coffin lid and lower it. Then there was the sound of someone moving around the casket as they tightened a series of latches so that it was sealed.

  There was nothing left to do but go home. They did so, each in a separate car, returning to the house to discuss the logistics for the following day, who would drive which vehicle, when they needed to be where.

  Ellen found a quiet spot in the den where she studied the eulogy she had written earlier in the week. The others milled about the living room where they finished plans and shared a late snack. There was little conversation, and even from the next room Ellen could feel the cool way in which her siblings regarded each other.

  She read her eulogy again and sighed. It still wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say. She’d been inserting words and crossing out others for what seemed like hours. Finally, she set her pen aside.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back. She just couldn’t handle this right now The image of her father’s lifeless face came to mind, and she pushed it aside. Think of something else. Anything…

  Jake’s laughing face came to her, and she felt the familiar pang. What was it about him that captured her so? She couldn’t let him go no matter how she tried.

  Help me, Lord, she prayed desperately as she considered the memories of her times with Jake over the last week. Am I going to be haunted by him for the rest of my life?

  “This is a shadow of the things that are to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.”

  Ellen frowned. Why had that verse come to her now of all times? What could it possibly mean? Jake? A shadow?

  Dimly she heard the doorbell ring. Someone opened the front door and in the distance Ellen heard muffled conversation. She pushed the distraction away as she focused again on the images in her mind.

  Jake on the beach…Jake holding her…Jake, Jake—

  “Ellen.” Megan poked her head around the corner and peered into the den.

  “What?” Ellen looked up, startled. She felt completely drained.

  “You have a visitor.”

  Ellen’s throat constricted and sudden fear assailed her. Jake? Had he come to talk with her again? Oh no, no, Lord. I won’t be able to send him away again. Please—

  “Who?”

  That’s when she saw him. A man, standing there in the doorway to the room, looking rumpled and tired and still dressed in his work clothes.

  For a moment she was sure it was Jake, and then the image faded, and Ellen stared, her face going hot, and then cold. Quick tears flooded her eyes.

  “Mike.”

  Twenty-nine

  Ellen stared at her husband in disbelief. He had come. He had found a way to be with her, and her heart soared.

  Their eyes met and spoke volumes. She studied the unrestrained love in his eyes, the hope and apprehension on his face, and suddenly the Scripture was utterly clear. “This is a shadow of the things that are to come….” That was what Jake had been. A shadow. An image of something Ellen had convinced herself she wanted. Yes, he was real, but their relationship wasn’t. Not the way she’d been thinking about it. All she and Jake had was a shadow

  She took in Mike’s appearance, the dark circles under his eyes, the rumpled suit, the wedding band…he was the reality. The reality Ellen had found through Christ. For that’s who had joined them. Forever. She remembered her anger of a week ago and felt ashamed. She had been wrong about Mike. Yes, he had botched things up, he had left her alone too many times to count and he seemed to have grown cold to all that mattered. But she, too, had let her faith go by the wayside.

  Now, if only they could cling to the Lord as they had in their early days, perhaps the love they once shared would return. Perhaps they could survive after all. Ellen felt a peace come over her as she considered her husband. At least their life together was real. Not an idea or a dream or a shadow. They would have to talk about the future, the expectations on both sides. As in the early days of their marriage, they would need to pray together, find a church family where they could grow. But looking at her husband now she believed they would find a way to work it out.

  Tears filled her eyes as she smiled at him, and in his face she saw the young sportscaster with whom she’d fallen in love. Mike had always been faithful beyond anything she’d ever dreamed. But in those early days there had been so much more love. Mike had supported her decisions and encouraged her writing career. He had taken time for walks on the beach and candlelit dinners at little-known restaurants. Back then he had written poetry for her and rubbed her back when she ached with tension from a day of deadlines. He never let her go alone to anything.

  She saw him now and remembered their early days as if they were only weeks ago. She had never doubted back then that Mike was the man she belonged with. Theirs had been a wonderful relationship—intimate, satisfying, deeply rooted. It was a life she knew they could have again. And one she never would have had with Jake. Now, at last, she understood that.

  At the thought of Jake a wave of guilt washed over her and she hoped Mike couldn’t see in her eyes how close she’d come only twenty-four hours earlier to breaking her wedding vows. She refused to think about that now. Leslie had prayed for her, and although the bond between Ellen and Mike had been tested that week, it had survived. Thank God it had survived. Even before Mike made the decision to be there for her.

  Megan discreetly left the room, and Ellen moved toward Mike. His arms opened, and she went into them, sliding her hands along his back, pulling him to her, overwhelmed with gratitude.

  “You came.”

  He pulled back slightly so he could look into her eyes. “You needed me.”

  She sighed and hugged him tightly. “Oh, Mike. It’s been such a long week.”

  “I know For me, too. Do you still hate me?”

  She shook her head against his chest. With him here now, solid and reassuring, things were so much clearer. What she and Mike had once shared—what she knew they would share again—was so different than what she’d shared with Jake all those years ago. With Mike, love was steady and real, without the uncertainty Jake had brought to her life. Mike was here and he was real. He was today and tomorrow—and that meant more than all her yeste
rdays combined.

  She leaned up and kissed him tenderly on the lips. “Thank you…for coming.”

  He reached down and cupped her face in his hands, holding her gently but firmly His eyes held hers. “I love you, Ellen. I’d go to the moon to prove it to you.”

  “Not always.” She smiled sadly.

  Mike’s face fell. His hands moved down her shoulders, brushing her arms, until he took her hands in his. “I know. I’ve done a lot of thinking. Praying. I spent most of yesterday reading the Bible and begging God to make things right between us again. It was like the Spirit literally picked me up and set me at the Lord’s feet.”

  Ellen thought about Leslie again and knew that since their phone call her dear friend had probably not stopped praying for them.

  “How could we drift so far from everything we believe?” Ellen’s voice cracked. Jesus, forgive us. Her heart felt as though it would break with regret.

  “I know. I feel the same way. I’ve been selfish and faithless. You deserve better than that. Things are going to be different, Ellen.” He met her gaze. “Forgive me. Please.”

  Ellen nodded and rested her cheek against his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt tears fall onto her face once more. “I forgive you, Mike. Is everything okay between us then?”

  He pulled back a few inches so he could study her eyes. “I don’t know. Is it?”

  She thought of Jake again and nodded. “A lot has happened this week. I was having my doubts about us, but God helped me work through a few things while I’ve been here. I do love you, Mike. I don’t ever want to lose you. God gave you to me, and he wants us together.”

  “Then get your things.” He smiled and patted her on the behind. “We’ve got a hotel room waiting for us.”

  The morning dawned chilly and overcast, unusually cool for July. The clouds would probably dissipate by noon but Ellen thought the weather seemed appropriate, as if the sky were mourning her father’s death as well.

  Still, the Baywinds Inn was perfectly tranquil that morning. The room she and Mike shared had a balcony with a distant view of the bay.

  Ellen crept outside and sat down, letting the cool morning air wash over her as she stared across the water. In two days she would be gone and everything about the week would be behind her.

  The night before, she had told Mike about the problems between her and Jane and the others, and he had kindly refrained from making cutting remarks about her siblings. Instead he assured her the week was nearly through. She would be going home the next day and could put the entire ordeal behind her. Then they talked for hours about their past mistakes. When Ellen finally told him how seriously she had considered leaving him, Mike cried.

  He’d reached out for her, gathering her close and holding her tightly. He buried his face in her hair, and she stroked his back as he cried. When he could speak again, he pulled back and met her eyes. “I was a fool, Ellen. I took you for granted. I took everything I believe about the Lord for granted. In the process I let our marriage grow cold.”

  His words filled Ellen with joy—and gratitude to God, who had kept her faithful at her weakest moment. What she saw reflected in Mike’s eyes moved her more deeply than anything she had ever experienced. They talked some more after that and then they did something they hadn’t done in years. They prayed together. Finally, in the early morning hours, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  But still she said nothing about Jake. Not yet.

  Mike had a game to cover Sunday morning, so he would leave later that evening on a flight back to Miami. Their hotel room was quiet as he dressed in a sleek Armani suit, and Ellen wondered how Jake would react when he saw them together that morning at the funeral. The two men had never met. She forced herself not to think about it as she slipped into the navy rayon dress she had worn from Miami a week earlier.

  They arrived at the Barrett house by eight that morning. Everyone was there except Megan and Jane’s family.

  “Good morning, dear.” Ellen’s mother smiled sadly, greeting Ellen at the door and kissing her on the cheek. “You look pretty.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You, too.”

  “Hello, Mike. We’re glad you could make it.”

  Mike nodded in response and straightened his tie, clearly unsure what to say.

  Ellen’s mother wore an elegant black dress with dark hose, but her makeup wasn’t done yet and she was slightly breathless with the rush to get ready on time.

  “Your Aunt Betsy put together a breakfast tray for us, pastries and fruit, that kind of thing.” She pointed them toward the dining room table. “I still have to do my face and hair. I’ll be back out in a while.”

  Ellen watched her disappear down the hall and in the distance she heard Aaron’s voice boom through the house.

  “Mom, where’s the blow dryer? I can’t find it anywhere.”

  Amy and Frank were dressed, sitting at the dining room table eating. Ellen nodded to them as she fixed a plate of food.

  “How’s it going, Frank?” Mike asked. He took his plate and found a seat next to Ellen.

  “Good. You?”

  “Fine.”

  They heard Aaron’s voice again.

  “Mom, where’s the hair spray? It’s always in this cabinet.”

  “I’ve got it. Just a minute, Aaron,” Mom yelled in response.

  Ellen nibbled at a pastry and thought how familiar the scene felt. It had been this way a handful of times before, when the Barrett family had been up early in the morning preparing for a big event. They had done this from a motel room in Ann Arbor before her graduation from the university, and again before her wedding. Later the same scene played out in this very house before Jane’s wedding and then Amy’s.

  There was that same anticipation, the readying for an event that would mark a milestone in a lifetime of everyday occurrences. It seemed strange—almost twisted somehow. Every other time the event had been a celebration. Ellen thought something should be different about preparing for a funeral.

  She excused herself and went out back to read her eulogy once more. She’d worked on it late into the night, getting up again after Mike was asleep, and she felt satisfied with what she had written. Now she wanted to be familiar with it so she could read it despite her emotions.

  Jane and Troy and the children piled into Troy’s rented car at eight-thirty on the morning of the funeral. Jane was particularly quiet, and Troy allowed her enough space to deal with her feelings.

  “Here we go,” she muttered as they pulled out of the parking lot.

  Troy looked over at her, and she caught his curious glance.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “No, I’m not.” She rubbed at a spot on her dress where Kala had spilled oatmeal. “How am I supposed to do this today, Troy? I mean, the whole week’s been a disaster. Ellen and I aren’t speaking to each other, and now I have to pretend to be broken up by my father’s death.”

  Troy sighed loudly and slammed his foot on the brake. He pulled over and brought the car to a stop on the side of the road.

  “Something isn’t right here, Jane.”

  She looked at him, startled. He sounded as though his patience was waning. “What do you mean?”

  “First of all, you’ve been snapping at everyone in your family since I got here yesterday. You act as if they should understand what happened to you the night your father left. Second, last night at the viewing you were working a little too hard to convince yourself that your dad’s death doesn’t matter to you.”

  He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared out the window for a moment. “I think you’re kidding yourself, Jane.” He turned back toward her. “I think you’re hurting as much, maybe even more than the rest of your family. You wrote him off years ago, and now you have to live with that. Nothing you say or do can give you those years back.”

  Jane couldn’t respond.

  He paused a moment, and the children grew restless in the backseat. “Jane, it’s time y
ou let down your defenses and stop trying to fight the world because of what happened that night. The Bible says not to let the sun go down on your anger, but you’ve been doing that for more than a decade. No wonder you’re miserable. Your bitterness has all but strangled you.”

  “I thought at least you’d understand,” she cried. “You know why I feel this way.”

  “I do understand, Jane.” He reached over and touched her face. “But you need to let it go, hon. Put it behind you. As long as you blame Ellen and your father, you’re never going to be free of the past. You’ll never be at peace with God or anyone in your family.”

  “It’s not like I’ve been this way forever, Troy. It’s just this funeral thing. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not true. You’ve been upset with Ellen for years. Sure, there are times when you two get along better than you have this week. But you blame her for what happened, just like you blame your father.”

  Jane hung her head, the fight gone.

  “Ellen doesn’t have any idea what’s eating you, what’s been eating you for the past decade. Neither did your father.”

  “I wanted her to ask,” Jane said weakly

  “That’s not fair, Jane. No one could guess something that terrible had happened to you. Not even Ellen.”

  Jane sniffed and raised her eyes meekly. “Have I been that bad?”

  “Quite honestly, yes.”

  Jane sighed and stared at her hands, absorbing the truth in his words. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “What about your dad? You have to deal with it, Jane. After today you might never have another chance.”

  “I know.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll take care of it.”

  He reached out and pulled her close, hugging her. “Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Silent tears fell onto her lap, but she said nothing.