A Sister's Forgiveness (31 page)

Matt gave her a pitying look. “Mom, I know how it is, okay? Every time I’ve gone to watch practice since Tessa died, Uncle Geoff acts like he doesn’t see me, and instead of taking a run with me once practice is over like we always did before, he just walks away.”

“Mr. Cotter and I followed you to the ball field, son. It looked like you and your uncle were talking,” Lars said.

Matt nodded. “Yeah. At first it was like maybe things would be okay. He didn’t ignore me—he even waited for me to catch up to him. But I did it all wrong. I started out saying that this program was something that could help Sadie, and well, he’s still really mad at her, and my bringing up her name seemed to make him even madder, and he…”

Matt drew in a shuddering breath and bit his lip. Lars realized that the boy was fighting back tears. It was obvious that the last thing he wanted to do was to cry twice in the same evening in front of his father. What kind of father had he been to this child that his own son was afraid to show his true feelings in front of him?

“Matt, it was wrong of Geoff to take out his feelings about losing Tessa on you. He’s the adult here. He should have realized that you were only trying to help. You did a good thing in trying to offer an idea that could help.”

“What happened after Geoff got mad at you?” Emma asked.

“I took off,” Matt told them. “I just wanted to get away from there, so I started riding, thinking about what he’d said about not wanting to see me again for a long time, like probably not until I start school there next year.” His voice trailed off. “Why did Sadie have to try and show off for Dan Kline? Now he doesn’t even seem to care about her at all. It’s because she was only thinking about Dan and how much she wanted him to like her.…”

Lars was so stunned at the bitterness he heard in the way Matt talked about his sister, the way he said Sadie’s name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, that he felt compelled to defend her. “Matt, Sadie is very sad and sorry for what happened that day. She knows how much hurt she has caused, and she will have to live with the consequences of her actions the rest of her life. Right now she needs—”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He turned to Emma to plead his case. “I just wanted so much for us to be a family again. I know Tessa’s gone, but we’re all still here. What about that?”

Lars could see that Emma had no answer to that, and truth be told, neither did he. He touched his son’s bony shoulder and felt Matt tense.

“Say your prayers and then get some sleep, son. Tomorrow’s another day.” He moved aside so that Emma could hold back the covers while Matt crawled into bed and curled onto his side. After Emma had tucked him in, Lars sat on the side of the bed again. “Your mother and I have been blessed with you and your sister, Matt. This is a hard time for all of us, but if we place our trust in God’s plan, we’ll get through this together.”

Matt looked at him with skepticism. “It’s okay, Dad,” he said wearily. “I understand how things are. I’ll be fine. You and Mom just worry about Sadie.”

“That’s enough talk for tonight,” Emma said as she switched off the small desk lamp, leaving the room in deep shadows cast by the single light from the front hall. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

Recalling the conversation that Matt’s teacher had had with Emma about his lack of attention and his growing hostility at school, Lars could only pray that it would also be a better day for their son.

Chapter 32

Emma

E
nough was enough. Something had to be done, and for once Emma was not going to be the one waiting for someone else to take action. After yet another night of lying awake while Lars pretended to sleep, Emma was up with the rising sun. She got dressed, left a note for Lars on the kitchen table, and headed for the bay. She was as certain as she had ever been of anything that Jeannie would be there.

Her sister was already at the far point of the mud flats where the mollusk beds jutted up from the clear, calm waters. Jeannie was picking her way over the sharp shells. She looked thinner and, even from a distance, she looked older—as if she had been beaten down by life. Or maybe Emma was simply projecting the way she felt on her sister.

The muck sucked at her shoes as she made her way out to the higher, drier sandbar. She passed several live tulip shells inching their way along and a huge lightning whelk with an interior that shone like pearls. She knew that Jeannie had passed them by as well. Neither of them would ever take a live shell no matter how large, rare, or beautiful it might be.

Jeannie remained oblivious to her presence, bent as she was over a cluster of mollusks as she peered closely at something hidden there.

“Is it a horse conch?” Emma called out, not wanting to startle her.

Jeannie turned slowly, shielded her eyes with one hand, and then nodded. “Ginormous, as the kids would say,” she replied.

Emma smiled and felt a twinge of hope that just maybe they could find their way back to each other. “Alive?”

“Beautifully so.”

“Did you see the whelk?”

Jeannie nodded and continued exploring the mollusk beds.

The sisters were shy with each other, skirting around each other like the egrets and little blue herons and other water birds around them. As was their usual practice, they came close to show the other a special find and then separated as they went in different directions, their heads bowed, their eyes searching the clear water for some new treasure.

It all reminded Emma of when they had been younger. They would have a falling out over something and promise never to speak to the other one again. Then it would dawn on them that they had just broken all ties with their best friend, and that would ignite the cautious but always predictable move toward making up. Sometimes it took only a matter of hours. Once or twice it had lasted overnight. This time it had gone on for weeks.

“I’ve missed you,” Emma said as the sisters bent to admire a king’s crown conch inching its way across the grassy bottom of the bay.

“Me, too,” Jeannie admitted. “It’s been… hard.”

Jeannie had always been a master of understatement, and Emma almost chuckled, but this was not their usual disagreement. This time the stakes had been set far higher than either of them could ever have imagined possible.

“I can’t possibly know what this has been like for you and Geoff,” Emma said.

“But?” She sounded defensive.

“No ‘buts,’ Jeannie.”

Her sister glanced at her skeptically then went back to shelling, moving away from her. Emma hoped that maybe she was thinking about how hard this had been on everyone—even those of them that had not directly suffered the death of a child. And she realized that this had been the most challenging part of the whole event—this kind of unspoken and unacknowledged but deeply felt contest about who among them was suffering most deeply.

Emma decided that if they were going to get anywhere, she had to risk saying aloud what everyone had avoided. “In one way, Jeannie, we’ve both lost our children. Tessa was not my daughter, but you know what she meant to us, how we loved her as one of our own.”

Jeannie had stopped her cursory search for shells and was staring out across the bay to the islands beyond. She stood perfectly still, and Emma wondered if perhaps she hadn’t heard her.

And then so quietly that Emma thought she might have imagined it, she heard Jeannie murmur, “How is Sadie?”

“She’s pretty lost right now. It’s hard to know what to say when we visit or how best to help her get through this. And, Jeannie, she must get through it. We all must. It can do no honor to Tessa’s memory if we fail at that.”

After a long moment, Jeannie turned around. She removed something from her pocket and held it out for Emma to see. “Zeke found these angel wings. Aren’t they just perfect? So petite—like our Tessa was?”

Was it possible that with a simple exchange of observations about seashells the sisters had found their way to the open door that would allow them to talk after all this time? Emma kept walking to where her sister waited to show her the treasure of the sea. They stood side by side admiring the purity of the shell’s white color and saying nothing for several long moments.

“Joseph Cotter stopped by last night,” Emma said finally. “Lars and I think that the VORP idea is a good one.”

Jeannie hesitated. “Geoff doesn’t.”

Emma let that pass. “What do you think?”

Jeannie breathed out a long-suffering sigh, and when she started to speak, it was as if a flood of all the things she’d been wanting to say for days came tumbling out.

“Oh Emma, what do I think? I think that I want this nightmare to end. I think that I want my child back. I think that I want our life back. I think that I want to hear myself laughing again and singing again. I think that I want Geoff and me to start being in the same place at the same time with the same need to be with each other. I think that I want to utter a prayer that doesn’t beg God to make this all go away but thanks Him for the blessings of our lives.”

“Then let’s figure out the best way to get there together, because that is exactly what I want as well.”

The sisters slowly made their way back to the narrow beach entry to the bay. Along the way, Jeannie came across an empty moon shell and handed it to Emma, who accepted it for the gift and peace offering she knew it to be.

“I heard that the judge called for a continuance in court the other day,” Jeannie said.

Emma nodded. “I think the combination of Dan Kline testifying for the state and then seeing Geoff about to get on the stand was too much for Sadie. She had a complete breakdown. The judge took pity on her and sent everyone home. We go back on Monday.”

Emma wanted to ask if Geoff had changed his mind about testifying. She wondered if he could do such a thing, having already agreed to appear for the state. There was so much about the ways of these outside laws and courts that confused her. “It seems to me,” she said as if she and Jeannie had been having a discussion about that very thing, “that everything to do with their laws and ways has to do with punishment and retribution.”

“Maybe they’ve tried our way in the past,” Jeannie suggested.

“It doesn’t seem that way. On the other hand, Joseph tells us that the mediation program just might be away that we could…”

“Save Sadie from having to go to jail?”

“She’s in jail now,” Emma reminded her sister.

They walked along in silence, a reminder that the chasm between them was not so easily bridged.

“Did you know that she was attacked?”

Jeannie stopped walking. “No. Was she badly hurt? What happened?”

Emma told her the story and about the conversation she had overheard in the hallway outside the courtroom. “I’m certain that she was that girl’s grandmother. Can you imagine turning your back on a child? I mean, I don’t have the right to judge them without a walk in their shoes, but still…”

“But you think that’s what I’ve done? Turned my back on Sadie, who has always been like my own child.”

“Oh Jeannie, I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant,” Jeannie said through clenched teeth, and Emma was stunned at her sister’s bitterness.

They were walking past the gardens, taking a shortcut through the entrance to the parking lot and out to Orange Avenue as they often did in order to get away from the traffic on Mound Street.

“What time do you have to be back in court on Monday?” Jeannie asked after they had walked a couple of blocks in a tense silence. In the past, she had always been the one to find a way to break any tension between them, and Emma was grateful for her willingness to do it now.

“Nine o’clock.”

They had walked past the neat lawns of the houses along Orange and crossed over the bridge on their way to Bahia Vista Street—the street that would take them eastward to Pinecraft. This was a walk they had taken together more times than either of them could count. It struck Emma that through the years they had talked about so many things while taking this same journey—boyfriends, parents, their husbands, their children.

“I’d like you to be there,” Emma said softly. “In court with Lars and me. I’d like you to be there for Sadie, if you think you could manage.”