Finding Me (37 page)

Beth shook her head. “You’ve already done it. Thanks again for being here.”

Kelli watched the two wounded women make their way to Alison’s car. She waited only until she was in the privacy of her own car before she pulled out her cell phone. She wondered if the call she was about to make should fall under the realm of minding her own business, but she couldn’t help herself. She dialed Rand’s cell phone. “Hi, Rand, I’m just leaving the doctor’s office, and I wanted to talk to you real quick.”

“I’m so glad you called, because I’m going crazy here. How is she doing?”

“She is trying to be brave. Alison is taking her to her house for the night.”

“Good. I’m actually on my way back right now. I told her I’d finish my meetings today because I didn’t want her worrying about me driving, but I need to get there.”

“I’m glad, because to tell you the truth, she needs you. I do have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want me to go over to your place and put away all the baby stuff? That way, at least she won’t have to face it when she gets home from the hospital.”

“That’s a good idea. Maybe just get the things from the living room and kitchen and put them all in the baby’s room. We can at least close the door and deal with those things when we’re ready.”

“Got it. I’ll go do that right now.”

“Kelli?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling, and thanks for taking such good care of her lately. She loves you like a sister. We both do.”

43

K
elli watched Beth cling to Rand, her face so pale the skin was almost translucent. Rand’s eyes were bloodshot, standing in stark contrast to the dark circles beneath. Alison wiped her eyes with a tissue. Max, Beth’s brother—Kelli’s brother—had arrived from Kentucky and now stood on the other side of Beth, his arm around her for support. His hair was red, his face freckled, and his pale green eyes glistened with tears for his sister’s loss. His wife, Valerie, stood beside him, her arm around his waist. Other than these people, only the minister, Kenmore, and Kelli were present.

She felt out of place here. This was family only, but Beth had insisted that she come. She’d declared that Kelli had been the one to stand beside her when she found out, and she wanted her here at the end.

The cemetery was empty except for their little crew. Thankfully, the minister had enough sense to avoid most of the trite and cliché phrases Kelli had dreaded hearing. He had said a few words, read some Scripture, and reassured them all that Beth and Rand would see their daughter again in heaven, in perfect
health and completely happy. Other than that, he mostly offered support and love. The man seemed to have a deeper understanding than most people of grief, and she was grateful for that—for Beth’s sake as well as her own. The casket was tiny, solid white with brass trim. It looked so perfect and innocent. Just like little Rose. Rose Ann Waters they had named the precious little girl.

Right on the edge of the family plot was a small rectangular memorial with a cross at the top.
Darcy Waters, beloved daughter and sister.
In the arms of Christ.
1990–1991
. Kelli stared at the piece of granite numbly. It was beyond comprehension that this had been placed here over twenty years ago, by a family out of their minds with grief, when there was no tragedy at all. What must it have been like? Beth would have been only five years old, and Max just seven. Alison was suddenly widowed and had lost a child, as well. The grief must have been unimaginable.

Kelli looked then to the similar marker for her father.
David Waters.
Beloved husband and father.
Home in heaven.
1950–1991.

Kelli tried to look elsewhere but couldn’t. The injustice of what had transpired here hit Kelli afresh. She simply couldn’t fathom her father doing what he had done to these people. How could anyone even contemplate such an act? Much less the man who had delighted in taking her fishing, in spending hours a day teaching her everything from how to tie a shoe to advanced calculus? It did not make sense. Not at all.

After the minister had said the last of his words, Beth walked over to a container of white roses, pulled one out, and set it atop the casket. Rand followed, then the rest of them. Kelli couldn’t help but cry. This poor baby was her niece, even if she would never have known it. When they were all finished, there were two roses left. Beth shuffled forward, took them in her hand, then carried them over and placed them at the memorial markers for
her father and Darcy Waters. She looked up at her mother then. “Let’s sing it. For all of them.”

Alison nodded. She looked at Kelli and the minister. “There is a silly little song we used to sing for Darcy. We’ve made a tradition of coming here and singing it to her on her birthday. It’s about a little stuffed doggy she loved.” Alison took a deep breath and began singing in a shaky voice. “‘Little Scruffy is very roughy. He barks and he growls and sleeps all day. He sure loves his mommy, he lays on her tummy, and frightens all the rest of us away.’”

Kelli’s knees gave way, and she fell to the ground in a heap. This was the song she heard in her dreams—in her nightmares about the car wreck. It was a real song, with real words, sung by her real family. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, forgetting for just a moment the reason she was here today.

Eventually she realized that everyone had gathered around her. Beth knelt down and threw her arms around Kelli, and the two of them sobbed together, each dealing with her own grief. It took a while before Kelli became coherent enough to realize how inappropriate her meltdown had been. This was about Beth and Rand’s great sadness. She should not be the one people had gathered around to comfort.

She finally pulled herself together. She looked at Beth through blurry eyes. “I’m so sorry. I . . . don’t know what happened. It just hit me really hard all at once. Forgive me—I should be the one comforting you. This is so embarrassing.” She pushed herself off the ground and stood. She couldn’t bring herself to look around at the others. She had crossed a line—really, really crossed it—and she knew it as well as anyone. She finally glanced toward Kenmore and saw concern in his eyes—he alone knew exactly what was happening.

Alison put her arm around Kelli’s waist. “I’m so glad you are here with us, Kelli. It’s a truly tender heart that can grieve so
keenly for the loss of a friend. You are a special friend to Beth. To all of us.”

Kelli shook her head. “I’m really sorry.” She needed to get in her car and never see these people again. There was absolutely nothing so horrifying as what she’d just done.

“We’re going over to Mom’s house for a while. Can you come?” Beth squeezed her arm.

“I . . . uh . . . I really need to get to work. I promised Keith I’d get there as soon as I could. He needs my help.” Kelli pulled herself away from the group and practically ran to her car. She needed to get out of here. She needed to leave this town. Now.

Kelli made it back to the duplex, ran to her room, and started packing her things as fast as she could. She piled it all into her car, grateful that Beth and Rand were several miles away at Alison’s. She needed to be gone before they got back.

She picked up load after load and simply tossed everything in her car. There would be time to organize later. For now, she had to get out of here as quickly as possible. She was in her bedroom, getting the last of her clothes, when the doorbell rang.
Oh no.

She went to the door and peeked through the window. It was Miss Birdyshaw. Kelli opened the door just a crack. “Good evening, Miss Birdyshaw. I can’t talk just now. I’m really busy.”

“You’re not leaving yet, are you? I saw all those things piled in your car and it worried me. I thought maybe you’d had some kind of emergency or something, because you’re staying through September, right?” She simply looked at Kelli, blinking slowly, waiting for an explanation with all the time in the world. Time Kelli did not have.

“A couple of things have come up and I need to get back to California. I’ve got to leave tonight, actually. Right away.”

“Oh, what a shame. A real shame. I hate to hear that, I do. I’m going to miss you. Little Miss Lacey and I looked forward to our visits with you.”

“Lacey’s a sweet kid. You two have some Popsicles for me sometime, okay?” Kelli glanced back into the house.

Miss Birdyshaw stood unmoving, not seeming to get the hint that it was time to move on. “I’m not very good with people, never have been. Not good with kids either, really, but I think I’ve been a bright spot in Lacey’s life. I’m really glad that God doesn’t look at me for my failings, but He looks at me for what He can do through me in spite of them. That’s great news for all of us, isn’t it?”

Kelli did not have time for a sermon right now. “That’s really great news, but I’m really in a hurry, so I’ve got to get back to my packing.” She closed the door, slowly enough that she hoped it didn’t appear as if she were slamming it in Miss Birdyshaw’s face, though she knew for a fact that was exactly what she was doing. She hurried back down the hall and toward her room, but the guilt caught up with her and overwhelmed her. That sweet elderly woman had been nothing but a dear to her, and to leave her in such a rude manner was not okay, no matter what. She carried the last load out to her car, then walked around to Miss Birdyshaw’s front door and rang the bell.

“Kelli, you’re still here.” Miss Birdyshaw’s eyes were moist—was this because she was old or was she teary? Kelli had a good idea it was the latter, and she knew it was her fault.

“Miss Birdyshaw, I came over to say I’m sorry. I know that I was short with you at my door just now. I was stressed out and in a hurry, and I was rude. You are the last person I would ever want to treat that way. Please accept my apologies.”

“Of course I do. Don’t think another thing about it. Like I said, I know I’m not good with people sometimes. I sure am glad God doesn’t just use the people who are good enough.”

Kelli didn’t have time to stand and talk, but she wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake again. “Isn’t that who He does use, though? The ones who are good enough? That’s what I’ve always been taught.”

“Do you think the people who taught you that were
good enough
?”

“No. I used to think so, but now I know, in a lot of ways, they weren’t very good at all.”

“Nobody is if you really know him deep down. That’s why we have God.”

“I really do have to leave now. I’m sorry I can’t stay and talk more.”

“Maybe someday you’ll come back through town. You knock on my door any time. I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks, Miss Birdyshaw.”

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Kelli started down the stairs, but then she turned. “You’re wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You said you’re not very good with people. You may not be good with crowds. I’ve never seen you in one so I couldn’t say, but one on one, you’re better with people than just about anyone else I know. Just ask Lacey, or me, or anyone else who has felt lonely and afraid around here. I’m glad I got to know you.”

Kelli walked around to her car, got in, and started the engine. Time to get out of here.