Troubled waters, p.31
Troubled Waters, page 31
She stood at the altar, thinking about the peace she was feeling. All these years she’d never known peace like this. It had only been familiar to her as a child. She’d forgotten it long ago. But now the peace was back, and she basked in it. Nothing else seemed to matter.
The natural thing to do would be for her to kneel at the altar and pray, but instead she walked over to one of the stained-glass windows, closed her eyes, and absorbed the heavenly color and warmth that streamed through the glass.
She thought about the letter her mother wrote but never sent. In one sense, she wished it had been sent. But in another, something told her this wasn’t the way it was supposed to work out. A surge of grief rose up in her as she thought of her father dying with such a burden. Guilt followed, and she wished she’d been level-minded enough to come home while he lived.
But nothing could be changed now. She blinked away the tears at the thought. Nothing could be changed.
Except one thing perhaps.
Macey swallowed hard, wiped her eyes, and laughed out loud at the absurdity of what she was about to do. Only hours ago it had seemed inconceivable. Now it hit her as something she needed to do. It wasn’t something she wanted to do, for just thinking about it made her stomach churn. Nevertheless, it rang true in her heart, and she knew it might make at least one thing right in this otherwise very wrong situation.
As she stood facing the stained glass, she thought about praying. When she was a child, she had always found it easy to pray. The heart was pure, and God’s love was abundant. Now, though, her life was a mangled mess, full of dark secrets and horrible deeds. Her heart had become like a twisted and knotted rope, fraying and barely connected to her soul.
So instead of praying she kept her hands in her pockets and walked out of the church. It was time to go see Harley Preston. Today would be the day of reckoning. And, she hoped, a day of restoration.
Then a chill of fear crept over her skin, and she decided to visit him tomorrow rather than today.
———
“The roast beef is fabulous,” her daughter said as they sat together for the evening meal.
“Oh, it practically cooks itself,” Evelyn said. “I think the potatoes are overcooked, though.”
“Taste fine to me.” Macey smiled from across the table.
“Well, I guess a cook should take a compliment when she sees one,” Evelyn replied, pointing to Macey’s nearly empty plate. “I’m glad to see you have an appetite.”
Macey nodded but avoided her mother’s eyes.
“I suppose tomorrow’s the big day,” Evelyn said, and Macey’s eyes shot upward, almost startled. Evelyn was confused at the reaction. Was the interview that big of a deal? “I tried on the suit last night. It’s bunching at the shoulders, but other than that, it’s a good fit.”
Macey’s posture relaxed. “Oh, the interview.”
“What did you think I was talking about?”
Macey laughed. “Nothing. I’m just tired. Of course, tomorrow is your interview. Are you nervous?”
“A bit. I’m not sure I’ll be a good fit over there. It’s such a big place.”
Macey asked for another helping of salad, then said, “You’ll do fine.”
As she handed the salad bowl across the table, Evelyn tried not to study her daughter too much. There was a change, that was for sure. Her eyes, once distant and cold, were now accepting and even the slightest bit joyful. Still, in the shadows of her face there was something troubling her. Was it the unsent letter? Or simply the overwhelming conclusion to seventeen years of mistakes, grief, and pain?
Evelyn set her fork down. “Dear, is something bothering you?” Macey looked up as if awakened from a light sleep. “You seem distant, and a little bothered.”
She finished her bite. “No, Mom. I’m fine.”
“Good, good,” Evelyn said without being totally convinced. “Would you like more bread?”
Macey pushed her chair back from the table. “No thanks. I’m stuffed.”
Evelyn finished the last bite on her plate, though her mother had always taught her that a lady should leave a little food on her plate, and stood to clear the dishes. “What’ll you be doing tomorrow while I’m out at the interview? Maybe a little shopping?”
Evelyn had turned her back, but she could hear Macey helping clear the table. “I don’t know.” She set some dishes on the counter next to Evelyn. “Mom, eventually I’m going to have to go home. You know that, right?”
Evelyn nodded. She didn’t want to believe it. God had returned Macey twice. Why couldn’t He keep her here?
“I promised my boss in Dallas I’d return next week. But I want to see how your interview goes. Once we know that, we’ll be able to plan a little better.”
“You’re still worried about this old lady?” said Evelyn, shaking her head. “I’m fine, dear. I’m in God’s hands. What will happen will happen.”
Macey’s hands ran through her hair. “I know, Mom, I know. Just have a little faith, right?”
“It’s simple.”
“So they say,” her daughter sighed, then continued to bring dishes to the kitchen counter. “You want this leftover roast wrapped up?”
“It’ll make for a good lunch tomorrow.”
Macey found some aluminum foil and began wrapping up the dish. “Tomorrow,” she said, almost to herself. “A day never to forget.”
“Come again?” Evelyn asked.
Macey looked at her. “Nothing, Mom.” Her features clouded with that familiar resistance.
Thirty
How do I look?”
Macey was sitting at the dining room table, engrossed in thoughts of seeing Harley Preston again. She looked up to the top of the stairs to find her mom in her new pink floral suit, adorned with pearls, her hair framed nicely around her face.
“Wow!” Macey stood. “You look like a regular office worker.”
Evelyn shrugged and chuckled as she made her way down the stairs. “Well, I should’ve had Patricia come do my hair. I never can get it quite right. She has this way of ratting it.”
“You look terrific,” Macey reassured her, helping her conquer the last few steps. “And the makeup adds a nice touch.”
“It’s not overdone? I usually put on too much blush.”
“It’s perfect.”
Her mother smiled and walked to the breakfast table, where she sat down to rest for a moment. “It’s getting hot in here again. This heat’s just getting unbearable.”
Macey agreed. It wasn’t yet noon and already the air-conditioner was having difficulty keeping the house comfortable. She sat with her mom, half listening to her mother’s worries about the interview. Mostly she was wrestling with the idea of going to see Harley today. Was she crazy? What would possess her to do something like this? There had to be a reason why.
Maybe this was the last leg of the journey to healing. It sounded so formulated—too formulated. Twelve easy steps to forgetting your past and healing your pain.
As her mother was making another comment about her hair, Macey’s mind wandered to that terrible day she’d gone to the clinic in Joplin. Although it would seem something so horrible would have plagued her every single day for years, it hadn’t so much. It was almost as if it had waited dormant inside her soul, large but unnoticed, until one day it would explode.
Today, however, it would not only be in the forefront of her mind, it would be on her lips and tongue, and it would be spoken aloud, confessed, of all things. Confessed to the man who had the most at stake. Macey’s mind played through all the possible reactions, and she couldn’t begin to guess which one might come true. She could only hope that what she was doing would somehow bring closure to all the many chapters of despair that had unfolded throughout the years.
“. . . but I figure she’ll be able to see right through that.”
Macey blinked. Her mother was leaning forward now and staring into her face. “I’m sorry, Mom. Did you say something?”
“You okay?”
“Yes. My mind just wandered a bit, that’s all.”
Her mother nodded and then waved her hand. “Well, I’m sort of a babbler, so it happens to me all the time. Anyway, I better shove off. It’ll be quite a drive for me.”
“You’ve got the map?”
“Yep.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Macey smiled warmly. “Try to use yes instead of yep. It’s a corporate thing.”
“Oh. Gotcha.”
Macey couldn’t help but laugh as she helped her mother out the front door and to her car.
“Should I carry a briefcase or something?” her mother asked as Macey opened the car door for her.
“Not yet,” she replied, steadying her mother into the seat. “Just relax. Be yourself. But don’t downplay yourself like you’re used to. No self-deprecating comments. Instead, emphasize your strong points.”
Her mother looked worried. “My strong points are that I can iron a shirt wrinkleless and make the creamiest mashed potatoes this side of the Neosho.”
Macey patted her on the shoulder. “Well, let’s hope they hate dry cleaners and are hungry.”
“You’re going to be okay while I’m gone?”
Macey swallowed and smiled weakly. “I’ll find something to do.” She paused, then asked, “Mom, do we still have that property out on Farmer’s Market Road?”
“Sure do. Haven’t been out there in years, but we still have it. It’s just sitting there, not doing too much except taking up space. Why?”
“Tell you later. You don’t want to be late.”
Evelyn nodded and pulled the door shut. Macey stepped back and watched her mother back out of the drive, two tires on the grass, and slowly make her way to the top of the hill and out of sight. This was it. It was out of her hands now. It was up to her mother or some higher power to make it work.
The middle of her back was damp with sweat, although she wasn’t sure if this was because of the heat or the thought of her mother interviewing for a corporate job. That and what Macey was about to do next.
———
“I’m going to see Harley Preston,” Macey announced after the front door to Noah’s house swung open.
The tall man she’d grown to adore in a tumultuous kind of way smiled down at her and said, “I’m fine. How are you?”
Macey shook her head and stared down at her shoes. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.” She glanced up at him. “After the way I left, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me again.”
“Hey, this is becoming a regular routine for us, and it always seems to work out fine in the end,” he said, his customary grin taking away some of Macey’s anxiety. “I am a little surprised to see you, though. I figured you’d be in New York by now.” He opened the door wider, and Macey stepped in, following him into the kitchen. Stephanie and Savannah were seated on the couch, watching television.
“Macey!” they both cried, leaping up and running to her.
“Hi, girls,” she said and embraced them both while looking up at Noah with a curious expression on her face.
“They love you. What can I say?” Noah responded with a shrug.
Savannah peered up at her. “You look happier today.”
Macey smiled. “I feel happy.” She winked at her. “My eyes, right?”
Savannah nodded. “Yep. You definitely look happier.”
Stephanie turned toward the television. “C’mon. The commercial’s over.” They both ran back into the living room and threw themselves on the couch.
Noah walked to his studio, and Macey followed. He had been busy cleaning brushes when she knocked on the door.
“I didn’t get on the plane,” she said. “There were things I needed to wrap up here.” His eyes understood every word she said.
“You threw away your dream job.”
She nodded. “I guess so. Maybe it wasn’t such a dream anyway. Maybe it was going to be more of a nightmare. I don’t know. But I know I did the right thing by staying. Mom and I talked.” She lowered her voice, but the girls were engaged in their cartoon. “I found out some things. I found out the truth.”
Noah wiped his brushes carefully with a rag. “That’s good. And you’re okay with going to see Harley?”
“No, I’m not okay with it, really. But when I think about . . . confessing, I guess you could say there’s this feeling that comes over me, a feeling of peace. It’s like someone takes whatever has been resting on my shoulders all these years and lifts it away.”
Noah’s eyebrows creased in worry.
“What?” Macey asked. “Isn’t this what you said I should do?” That familiar defensiveness began to creep in again.
Noah straightened his posture. “Macey, what do you expect to happen when you go see Harley?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it.” She stared at one of Noah’s unfinished paintings. “I guess I expect for things to be resolved. I mean, the past can’t be changed. I know that. But with the truth comes resolution, right?”
“Sometimes,” Noah said. He seemed to shake off his next thought and then smiled at her. “But whatever happens, you’re doing the right thing.”
Macey grinned with undue enthusiasm. “Hey, the truth shall set you free, right?”
Noah nodded, but there was something he wasn’t saying. Macey let it go. She was resolved to visit Harley and tell him the truth, and Noah was the one who had advised her to. What else was there to say?
Macey released a tense sigh and said, “I envy you, Noah. I mean, I envy your life. Two beautiful daughters. A peaceful and simple life as a successful artist. Lots of friends. Sometimes it seems you don’t have a problem in the world.”
Noah laughed a little. “Oh, that’s not true. I have you.”
She smiled and handed him a brush he was about to reach for. “Thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome.”
Macey waved good-bye to the girls on her way to the front door.
“Bye. Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks. I’ll need it.” Macey strode down the small stone sidewalk. She didn’t say good-bye. She knew she would see Noah again.
She could feel Noah’s gaze still on her, but she didn’t turn around. She sensed there was something else he’d wanted to say, only she didn’t want to hear it. In her view, the man had a natural gift for complicating things. For once in her life she’d found the courage to do something bold, something good, and she planned on carrying through with it.
———
Evelyn hardly needed a map to find the place. It loomed on the horizon like a daddy bull. Her old Pontiac lurched a little with each turn, temperamental as always in the July heat. The parking lot was packed with cars, but luckily she had her handicap sign to hang on her rearview mirror, the one Dr. Musser had given her ages ago when she’d had all those knee problems. She parked the car and dutifully hung her permit. She checked her watch. She was right on time.
Opening the car door let the heat rush in, though for once the heat wasn’t the first thing on her mind. She stared up at the three tall buildings that seemed to pass by the clouds on their way to the heavens.
“My gracious me,” Evelyn said aloud. Immediately she noticed all the people coming and going through the front doors of the main building. Most were young, strong-looking men and women, dressed in dark suits and expensive dresses. Evelyn looked down at her handmade creation. The powder pink print suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea. She tried to smooth out a wrinkle on her skirt, but it was pointless, so she grabbed her purse and shut the door.
The pace outside the building already flustered her. People brushed past her on the way to their cars, and Evelyn had to step aside several times for fear of being run over. It was as if they didn’t even see her.
She finally reached the air-conditioned lobby. A large expensive-looking desk sat in front of a petite woman who didn’t look to be very friendly. Evelyn shuddered when she realized the time. She swallowed, wished she’d brought some gum along with her, and then decided she probably looked pretty ridiculous just standing in the middle of the lobby. She approached the receptionist.
“May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Ms. Cunningham.”
“Your name?”
“Evelyn. Evelyn Steigel.”
The woman picked up the phone and dialed a number, all the while gawking at Evelyn’s clothing. All Evelyn could do was stand there with her purse in front of herself and wait.
“Take the elevator to the fourth floor, make a left, and go to the second office on the right.”
Evelyn’s grip around her purse tightened. “The second floor, to the what?”
The woman’s eyes blinked with slow irritation. “The fourth floor. One, two, three, four. Take a left. Then go two doors down and it’s on your right. The sign says Human Resources.” The woman looked at Evelyn suspiciously. “You are here for a job, aren’t you?” Evelyn nodded and looked around for an elevator. Obviously agitated, the woman instructed, “The elevators are over there, ma’am.”
