Holly's Heart Collection Two (22 page)
As soon as supper was over, I cornered Stephie.
“Come to my room,” I whispered.
“What for?”
“You’ll see,” I said, taking her hand.
When we got to my room, I closed the door. “Did you tell anyone about yesterday? You know, when you caught me reading letters in the attic?”
Her chestnut hair flew back and forth as she shook her head.
“Are you positive?”
“I kept my promise,” she said. “Carrie doesn’t even know.”
“Good girl,” I said, more puzzled than ever.
“Can I go now?” she asked.
I nodded. What was happening here? I wondered about it as I headed down the stairs to the kitchen.
Carrie stopped me in the dining room. “Some guy at church gave me this.” She waved an envelope in my face.
“Yeah,” Phil said. “Jared misses you.”
“Spare me,” I groaned, snatching up the envelope.
“Holly, I could use some help,” Mom called from the kitchen. “You too, Phil.”
Phil complained. “It’s not my turn.”
Without looking up from the sink, Mom said, “Better check the duties chart.”
Phil didn’t bother to check, but I did. As always, Mom was right. Grumbling as usual, Phil carried dirty dishes into the kitchen from the dining room. When the last dish was on the counter and ready for scraping, he disappeared. Mom and I were alone at last.
I wimped out on the divorce question and asked permission to stay in Dressel Hills with Andie instead. “It wouldn’t be for very long, really,” I pleaded. “Only about two and a half months.”
Not surprisingly, Mom countered my request. “Mrs. Martinez has her hands full with three-year-old twins. She doesn’t need an extra person around.”
I could see this was going nowhere fast. “You don’t want me to stay and finish the school year, is that it?”
Mom wrung out her dishcloth. “It’s much more than that, Holly-Heart,” she said, turning to look at me. “I simply don’t want to split up our family. We need each other—now more than ever.”
Mom really loved her kids, all six of us. And she was giving me the only response I could have expected from a mom with a hang-up for nurturing. But it made me mad that she couldn’t make an exception just this once.
She pulled her hair back into a ponytail for a second, then let it fall. “Could we consider this case closed, please?” She wasn’t kidding. I could tell by the look in her eyes.
“Oh, Mom, I just wish—”
“Holly, please,” she interrupted. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of the question. We’re leaving here
together.
”
Silently, I loaded the dishwasher. None of this was fair. I could hardly wait to exit the kitchen and hide out in my room. Besides, Jared’s letter was burning a hole in my jeans pocket.
Closing the dishwasher, I started the wash cycle. Then, without a word to Mom, I hurried off to my room.
Jared’s letter turned out to be much more civil than the one at school. He said he was sorry I was sick and hoped I would be at school tomorrow
“so we can talk at lunch.”
But more than anything, I could read between the lines. He wanted me tied up with him the last weeks of my life in Dressel Hills. Why? It was easy to second-guess him. Sean Hamilton had to be the one and only reason.
Early Monday morning, Mom knocked on my bedroom door. “Holly? Are you awake?”
I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus them. “Uh-huh,” I grunted.
She came in and sat on the edge of my bed, holding up some jeans I’d thrown in the laundry. I looked closer. They were my jeans from Saturday. In the confusion of my first waking moments, I hadn’t the faintest idea why she was here.
Then she pulled something out of those jeans. Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I stared. It was the envelope to Grandma Meredith’s letter. Was I in for it now!
“So…what do you know about this?” Mom asked.
There was no way I could talk my way out. So I told the truth right up front. “I was reading Grandma’s letter to you.”
“You were snooping in my things?” she asked. I was worried by the way her eyes squinted shut. It spelled trouble, with a capital T.
“I guess you could say that.” This sure sounded worse than it had seemed on Saturday.
“Are you saying you didn’t even attempt to control yourself?” Mom’s eyes were squintier than I’d seen them in years.
I nodded.
“How many letters did you read?” It was a pointed question. She was worried, it seemed. Very worried.
“Just that one—I mean, just the one that was in there.” I wasn’t handling this very well. Mom was mad and had a right to be. But I wanted answers and deserved to have them. I took a deep breath and sat up.
Startled by my abrupt movement, Mom leaned back a bit.
“I’ve been dying to have this talk with you,” I began. “It’s time. I mean, I think I’m old enough to know certain things.”
Mom’s jaw was set, but slowly her eyes became less squinty. “To know what?”
I took a deep breath. “About what happened between you and Daddy.”
Mom stared down at the envelope, tracing the edges with her finger. This discussion wasn’t going to be easy for her, that was obvious.
Hesitantly, I voiced The Question. “Why did Daddy leave us?”
Sadness reigned as Mom spoke. “That’s difficult to answer. It involves far more than you can imagine.”
Visions of hideous things flashed across my mind. Had there been another woman? Was Dad unfaithful?
“In many ways, it was my fault as well as your father’s,” she began. “He had a wonderful career opportunity in California. I was stubborn—didn’t want to leave our quiet town or our beautiful home. On top of that, I have always disliked big-city life. But your father was insistent upon moving. So I agreed that he should go to the West Coast by himself, hoping that after a few months there he’d change his mind and come home.”
She sighed. “But it didn’t work out that way. Instead, he found the business market stimulating and couldn’t pry himself from it. Not even enough to come home when I had trouble with my pregnancy.”
I gasped. “You were expecting another baby?”
Mom nodded slowly. “I wanted that child desperately, but I miscarried.” She paused to wipe her eyes. “In the end, I blamed your father for what happened. It was a very tense time for us.”
“Daddy didn’t want the baby?” I asked timidly.
“He viewed the pregnancy as a power thing—a way for me to keep him in Dressel Hills.”
It was hard to comprehend—Daddy treating Mom so poorly.
“I don’t want you to worry about how your dad feels about you or Carrie. You had nothing to do with the divorce,” Mom said.
Her words echoed in my brain. No wonder she didn’t want me to find out about this in a letter. I was surprised that she’d told me at all.
Mom pulled me close. “Things could’ve been so different if I’d known the Lord back then. We could’ve been spared so much.”
I looked up, fighting back the tears. “I pray for Daddy’s salvation every day.”
“I’m glad you do, honey.”
That’s when I told her about last Christmas Eve at Daddy’s. “He read the Christmas story from the Bible to all of us. I was so excited.” I went on to tell her about the man in his office who’d given Daddy a Bible. How he’d begun to read it—starting with Matthew’s gospel.
A smile swept across Mom’s face. Suddenly she looked years younger. “That’s wonderful news,” she said. “If he’s reading the Bible and talking to his Christian friend at work, perhaps our prayers will be answered.”
Mom hugged me hard and tiptoed out of the room, my dirty jeans in one hand and the empty envelope in the other. What had started out as an impossible conversation had ended up being the most incredible heart-to-heart talk ever.
All day at school, I mulled the conversation with Mom over in my mind. Even when Jared wanted to talk about “us” during lunch, my mind was on Daddy and what had pulled him and Mom apart.
“I don’t know how we can patch things up between us with you in never-never land,” Jared said, leaning to look me square in the face.
“Oh, sorry.”
“You okay?” he asked gently.
“Let’s put it this way: I’ve had better days.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said, probably referring to the standoff between us.
“If we could just be friends and not so exclusive, how would you feel about that?” There. I’d put it to him straight.
Jared shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother talking to you, Holly. You’re impossible.” And with that, he picked up his tray and left the table.
If that wasn’t enough to ruin the afternoon, going home and seeing a For Sale sign stuck in our front yard sure as shootin’ was!
GOOD-BYE, DRESSEL HILLS
It snowed in the mountains Friday afternoon, the day before Sean was to arrive. A light, powdery kind of snow. Perfect for skiing tomorrow. I glanced up at the snowcapped mountains as I sat on my window seat, writing the final paragraphs of my story “Good-Bye Whispers.” I decided not to have the hero and the heroine end up together. Anyway, it doesn’t always happen that way in real life. Look at Jared and me. And…Daddy and Mom.
After I finished writing my short story, I pulled out my journal to record my thoughts.
Friday, April 1—Now that I know Mom’s side of the story about the divorce, it’s hard to think about hanging out with Daddy all day tomorrow. Thank goodness Sean and Tyler will be there. No way do I want my dad to suspect that I know what happened. Besides, it’s in the past. Daddy is remarried to Saundra and might be moving closer to making a decision for Christ. At least, I hope so.
Looking up from my journal, I stared out the window. The mountains seemed closer than usual. I could almost reach out and touch them. Would I be able to see these same mountains in Denver? I doubted it.
Tomorrow I’d be skiing on my beloved mountains with Sean. I couldn’t help feeling nervous. The thought of seeing him again almost made me forget about the move. I could still kick myself for not meeting him on the beach last Christmas. But that was before I learned some hard lessons about boys. Now I felt more confident. Maybe even enough for a solid friendship with a soon-to-be sixteen-year-old guy. Like Sean.
I closed my journal and prayed. This had been a tough week for me—the mess with Jared, finding out about the reasons behind the divorce, trying to adjust to the thought of moving, and now getting ready for a visit from Daddy and Sean. I needed help sorting things out.
Just as I ended my prayer, a knock came at my door. Quickly, I shoved my journal under a pillow. “Mom, is that you?” I hurried to see who was there.
“Hey, Holly.”
It was my uncle Jack. I stood facing him. Alone. For the first time since all this moving stuff started. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, completely speechless.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
I opened the door a little wider. “Sure.”
He stepped into the room, looking big and awkward and a little out of place.
“Here.” I pulled out my desk chair for him, then perched on the edge of my window seat. Waiting.
Uncle Jack turned the chair around and sat on it backward, his arms gripping the back. Looking uncomfortable, he began. “I know you’ve been angry with me about the Denver move, Holly.”
I picked at an imaginary snag on one of the throw pillows. There was no point in talking. His decision had been made. So what did he want?
“I’ve been talking to your mother,” he continued. “She says you asked to stay with Andie. We both agree that it would be a big burden on the Martinez family. However, we did talk to the Miller family about having you stay there till the end of the school year.”
I looked up. “Are you kidding?” This was fabulous. At last, some good news!
He nodded. “Paula and Kayla are thrilled at the idea.”
But he didn’t smile. In fact, he didn’t seem happy about it at all.
“How would you like that?” he asked gently.
I was close to shouting
yes
when something stopped me. His look. His eyes. Uncle Jack just wasn’t Uncle Jack today. Where was the merry twinkle in his eyes? Where were the jokes and the laughter? Where was the man who Mom had fallen in love with—the crazy, silly, good man who’d survived the loss of his wife and who’d helped put our family back together again?