Read A Kingsbury Collection Page 35


  “Inside here—” Jane spread her fingers over her heart—“we’re still those little girls.” She looked at each of her sisters. “Let’s stay in touch, huh?”

  “We have to,” Amy said. “It’s too much work to be strangers.”

  They all laughed again and gently pulled away. Aaron approached them and hugged Jane first, then Ellen. “I can say it now.” His voice was gentle and warm and it seemed that the dense layer of ice that once covered his heart had finally melted. “I love you guys. Take care.”

  They hugged him and repeated his sentiment.

  “I was proud of what you did at the funeral, Aaron,” Ellen said.

  He nodded. “I should have done it sooner.”

  “Well, take care of yourself.”

  His eyes grew watery. “I’ll miss you. Really.”

  “Hey, none of that now. We’ll be together again sometime,” Ellen’s voice was thick with emotion. She looked at the faces around her. “We’ll have to have a reunion or something, right?”

  Everyone nodded and moved about uncomfortably, not wanting the moment to end. Finally their mother cleared her throat and stepped forward.

  “You girls have a safe flight. And call me tonight so I know you got in safely.”

  Ellen and Jane looked at each other and laughed.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Ellen asked.

  “Some things never change, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Now, girls, I’m only concerned for your safety,” Mom defended herself, grinning at them.

  “I know.” Ellen smiled at their mother and hugged her. “I’ll call.”

  They pulled Jane into the embrace then, and Jane’s voice was raspy. “Me too.”

  “Love you,” Mom said, holding on to them a bit longer.

  “Love you, too,” they replied.

  Then waving once more at their brother and sisters, Ellen and Jane turned and walked toward the car. As they had done so many times when their father was alive, the remaining Barrett siblings filed onto the sidewalk and waved good-bye until the car bearing their older sisters had disappeared from sight.

  33

  The airport was busy and by the time they arrived inside the terminal, Ellen and Jane were running late. Ellen’s gate was five minutes away from the one where Jane and her family were flying out, and the two sisters suddenly found themselves forced into a hurried good-bye. Troy and the children stood several feet away giving them a few moments of privacy as a constant stream of travelers flowed around them.

  Jane looked at her sister, her face filled with regret. “Ellen, I wanted to say something to you yesterday but there were always so many people around that I—”

  Ellen held up a finger. “Don’t,” she said gently. “You’ve already said it. Besides, you were right. I should have asked you what was wrong a long time ago.”

  “But I treated you so badly. How can you forgive me?”

  “Jane, do you really think I could ever hate you?”

  Jane looked down, staring at the bag in her hands. “I could understand if you did.”

  “I don’t. I never have hated you.”

  “Well, now, there were a few times there … ” Jane’s voice trailed off and she grinned.

  Ellen smiled, glad to see her sister’s sense of humor again. She’d really missed it. “I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

  Jane nodded and tears glittered in her eyes. “You and Mike’ll have to come spend some time with us.”

  “Or vice versa. There’s always room for your family at our house if you need some time at the beach.”

  “You know, Ellen, despite all the mean things I said … you’d make a great mom.” Jane took Ellen’s hand in hers. “I’ll pray for you … that next time there won’t be a miscarriage.”

  Ellen nodded, too choked up to speak.

  There was an awkward silence then, and Jane looked at her watch. “Well, I’d better get going. The plane leaves in twenty minutes.”

  Ellen nodded, blinking away her tears so she could see clearly.

  “Jane, remember when we were little, what we used to say to each other every night?”

  “Sure,” Jane smiled, her eyes distant. “I remember. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just wondered if you remembered.”

  Jane’s smile faded then and she rushed into her sister’s arms. She held her for several moments, unaware of the people around her. Her voice cracked when she was finally able to speak. “Good-bye, Ellen, I love you. See you around.”

  It wasn’t exactly what they had said to each other all those years ago but it was as close as they would come. Ellen smiled, her tears falling onto Jane’s shoulder.

  “Good-bye, Jane,” she mumbled. “I love you, too. See you around.”

  They pulled away then and studied each other one last time before turning, and without looking back, going their separate ways.

  The plane took off smoothly over the Detroit area, circling gently around lower Lake Michigan and heading back across land toward the Atlantic coast. Ellen sat next to the window watching Detroit disappear behind them. She wore her sunglasses again, her back turned slightly to the passengers beside her. She wanted the next three hours to herself so she could remember all that had happened that week, to try to make sense of it.

  She had made peace with everyone, it seemed. Her father, her sisters, her brother, Mike. Even her Savior. But she hadn’t really made peace with Jake. There were things she would have told him if she’d had a chance at the funeral.

  She stared at the tree-covered land below, thinking. Suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

  She opened her bag and found the pad of lined paper and a black ink pen. Gazing into the endless blue sky, she pictured him sitting beside her in his truck, splashing in the waves with her at the beach, letting go of her on his redwood deck. Perhaps things would have been different if she’d met Jake later in life. Or if she had never married and run into him again. But that wasn’t the way it had been … and everything about Jake Sadler was borrowed from a place where yesterday lived.

  She began to write.

  “Dear Jake … ” The pen moved effortlessly across the page and Ellen paused, drifting back. With a sigh, she continued.

  I wanted so badly to talk to you at the funeral but you left before I could say good-bye. I think I understand. Mike was there and you wanted the two of us to be alone together. Like we should be.

  I’m in the air as I write this, suspended between your world and my world with Mike, and I feel compelled to talk to you one last time. I cannot put into words what seeing you this week meant to me. It was as if all the years between us disappeared in an instant. And yes, it made me wonder.

  I think of your question on the beach, when you asked me if I still had feelings for you, and I can tell you honestly that I do. You were my first love and my heart has not forgotten. It never will. I needed you this week and I will always be glad I called.

  But you were right to let me go, to send me back to Mike. Because what you and I shared has come and gone, and I believe you understand that even better than I. As you said, if we had stayed together it would never have worked. Right now we’d still be fighting over some different girl in a different bathrobe standing on your grand front porch. And I’d still have a broken heart.

  I guess I’m trying to thank you for loving me enough to leave what we shared in the past. You have grown into quite a kind man. Jake Sadler.

  You should know I’m doing all right about my dad. The sadness has faded somewhat, and when I think of him now I see him where I will always see him: sitting with us five kids at a Michigan football game, his cheeks red from the cold, his fist raised in the air and that smile stretched across his face.

  I keep finding myself thinking about what you said that night when we were on the way to your house. “Choices. Passages. Moments that make a difference for a lifetime.” Seeing my dad that way is one of those moments.
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  So were you, Jake. You must know that a part of me will always love you, always remember what we shared. And every once in a while I will think of you, as I know you will think of me.

  By the way about that omelette shop, I really think it’d be a winner. And I’m never wrong you know. Except once when I was a kid and I thought I’d grow up to marry my best friend. I was wrong about that.

  You have changed so much since then. You’ve made a wonderful life for yourself, and I know one day you’ll find the right person to share it with. When you do, I pray you’ll place God at the center of your home. He alone can make the difference when troubled times come. That much I know from experience. I never told you, but I gave my life to Christ after we broke up. And even though I’m still growing Jesus has never given up on me. His peace and love truly do surpass all understanding. It might sound like a cliché, but my life really would be nothing without the Lord.

  Anyway, I wish only the best for you, Jake. I guess that’s all. I don’t expect you to write back or call me when you receive this. It wouldn’t be right. Just know that I enjoyed this past week, being with you again, remembering a thousand memories of the way we were. The way everything was. It was a passage of sorts, another moment. But most of all this past week gave me a few precious days in the place where yesterday lives.

  Thanks, Jake. I won’t forget you.

  Love always, Ellen

  That same moment, in a small country kitchen in Maplewood, Pennsylvania, Imogene Spencer placed a telephone call to Erma Brockmeier.

  “Erma, I’ve just got word from the church office. That young woman we were praying for? You know, Ellen Barrett?”

  “Yes, how is she?”

  “Everything worked out just fine, dear. You can take her off the prayer line.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. Praise the Lord. I’ll be sure to tell the other ladies.”

  “Yes. Now about that other couple, the one in Ohio whose son is in the hospital? Here’s what I think we need to pray … ”

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for traveling with me through the hallways of Ellen Barrett’s past. My guess is that the journey will have taken you back to your own yesterdays as well.

  Scripture says, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past” (Isaiah 43:18). Certainly there can be no growth for today and tomorrow by remaining where yesterday lives. Still, the Lord gave us our ability to remember. He provided us with the ability to capture scenes and log them in a storehouse to be brought out and played again when the occasion allows. I hope Where Yesterday Lives provided such an occasion.

  If so, it is my prayer that by remembering, by visiting once more that place where faith and family and love are born, you were convicted again of the truth that Jesus Christ is our only hope. Unless the foundation is built on him, it is merely shifting sand.

  However, if Ellen’s journey led you on one that was painful, filled with memories of a life devoid of Christ’s love, then there is no time like the present to begin the greatest journey of all. By putting your faith in Christ today, you will start a trail of yesterdays that will one day conjure up beautiful memories.

  Faithfully yours in Christ,

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. Dealing with death is difficult for most of us and often brings up unresolved conflict—with others, with God, and with ourselves. Have you had an experience like the Barrett’s? If so, how did you handle it? Which character did you identify with the most?

  2. Our view of God is often a reflection of our view of our earthly father. How has your view of your father affected your view of God?

  3. Ellen and Mike let the busyness of their jobs crowd out their spiritual life. How did that affect their relationship? Has that ever happened to you? How were you able to get back on track spiritually?

  4. Jane’s pain, which resulted in anger toward her siblings, was tearing the family apart and making everyone miserable. Do you have a “Jane” in your family? Have you ever tried to discuss this person’s actions with him or her to discover the reason for the pain?

  5. Ellen stated that the “key to peace is to stop talking.” Do you agree or disagree, and why?

  6. What was your reaction to Diane, who always tried to smooth things over and see that no one was offended?

  7. Reread 1 Corinthians 10:12–13. This would be a good verse to memorize and quote during times of temptation. Can you remember a time when you almost gave in to temptation but found a way to escape?

  8. Have you ever felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit to pray for someone, and you found out later that he or she was in some kind of crisis at that exact moment? How did that feel?

  9. We are commanded to confess our sins to one another. Have you developed relationships with those who would risk confronting you when you’re wrong or whom you would risk confronting when they are wrong? Why is this important?

  10. Dealing with death often causes a person to examine his or her own life. What emotions and memories did this story stir in your heart and mind? Are there areas of your life that you’ve tried to block out with busyness or other things so you don’t have to deal with them? Are there people with whom you are angry? Are there people you hold a grudge against? How is your relationship with the Lord?

  DEDICATED TO …

  Donald, who is and has been my very best friend regardless of the storms of life. Thank you for believing in me, loving me, and praying for me as if your life depended on it. Persecution is a promise in the kingdom of God, but with you by my side the lessons we have learned this past year are both vivid and welcomed. My greatest joy is knowing you are by my side, now and forever.

  Kelsey, caught somewhere between the oh-so-cute little girl and the tenderly precious young woman whose image grows clearer with each passing season. Whether kicking a soccer ball, mastering a math test, or seeking God’s heart on the daily dilemmas of growing up, you are proving yourself to be intensely committed, deeply devoted, sincere, genuine, and true. I am the most blessed mom in the world to have the privilege of calling you my daughter, my little Norm, my song.

  Tyler, tall, strong, and handsome—in the days of becoming, it is clear the type of man you’ll be. And yet now, for a short while, you’re still a little boy, remembering to pick a dandelion for me on family walks. Kind and compassionate, always ready to share, thinking of others. When I look at you, so often I see your daddy. And on many wonderful moments I see your Father, too. If I could bottle your zest for life, your sincerity, and share them with others, the world would be a different place.

  Keep your eyes on the goal, son; God has great plans for you. I love you always.

  Austin, no longer making baby steps but running through our house and our hearts. It’s marvelous to see the way God has made you focused—gifted with the ability to master an action regardless of the time and energy involved. Even more amazing are the glimpses of a tender heart beneath the toughness—“Daddy, I’m going to kiss your wife … ”

  Mingled with your three-year-old laughter are words that will ring through the decades. I remain always in awe of the miracle of your life.

  And to my loving Lord and Savior, who has, for now, blessed me with these.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As with all my books, this one was written with the help of many friends and professionals who made it ring true literally and sing true spiritually. Writing about depression is not something I’ve done before; although I’ve wrestled with testing and persecutions, battling depression has never been one of my trials. For that reason I did extensive research on what I. came to understand as an illness and drew heavily from the results God brought my way.

  In this light I especially want to thank my dear friend, Sylvia Wallgren—a Christian counselor and licensed psychiatrist—for giving me understanding. In a way that was both miraculous and timely, the Lord ordained that Sylvia and I meet. She also is a prayer warrior and lifted me up to heaven’s throne daily as I wrote this book. I strongly susp
ect Sylvia will be a treasured friend—part of my close, close circle—throughout our journey here and on into eternity. Sylvia, I can’t tell you strongly enough how much your daily encouragement and e-mailed prayers meant to me, still mean to me. I thank God for you.

  Again, thanks go to my amazing editor, Karen Ball, who takes my work and fine-tunes it so that the music you hear is truly a thing of beauty. Karen, you’re a gifted editor, and I am blessed for knowing you, working with you.

  To the Multnomah family, from my dear friends in sales to those in publicity, marketing, editorial, management, cover design, endorsements, and everyone in between—you are the most amazing people to work for. Every now and then, in the quiet moments before dawn, I find myself in awe that this is my job and you are my coworkers. I believe God is taking our books someplace we’ve never imagined before! Thank you, a million times over.

  Like last year, thanks to Kristy and Jeff Blake for taking care of my precious angel child during those hours when I absolutely needed a moment to write.

  Also a special thanks to my niece Shannon Kane, to Jan Adams, and to Joan Westfall for always being the first in line to read my books and give me valuable feedback. Also to my other family and friends for your love, support, and encouragement in every aspect of my writing. Especially my mom and dad, who have been there since my first stapled, colored-in book at age five.

  With every book I write there are people who pray for me and lend an ear while I talk plots and character traits. These are my special, oh-so-close friends and sisters in Christ, the golden ones who will never change or leave regardless of the passing of days. You know who you are and how precious each of you are to me and my family. May God continue to richly bless our friendships.

  There are nights in the midst of writing a book when leftovers are the best thing going at dinnertime and the laundry is piled to the ceiling. For those times and any others when I might have been just a tad preoccupied, I thank my incredible husband and sweethearted children—I couldn’t do this without the combined efforts from each of you.