Where My Heart Belongs (22 page)

“Yeah, he said the yoke of the egg looked like a fire, but I told him, ‘No it doesn’t, it just looks like an egg.’ ” They both laughed at the memory, then fell silent.

Sunny brought the food to the table, then went back for the coffee pot. “Look, I want to say something.” She paused a moment. “I want us to be friends, Kathy. I know I may be asking too much, but I really want you back in my life. I guess I just need to know what it is you want from me— what it is you need so that we can make this right. This isn’t about Mom or Dad anymore—it’s about us.”

Kathy felt the impact of her statement. “I know. Believe it or not, I spent half the night awake thinking about the same thing.”

Sunny sat down. “Soon we’ll go our separate ways, but I don’t want that to be the end of it. I want to be a part of your life. I want us to be a family again.”

For some reason that statement caused Kathy to immediately feel defensive. She had never once tried to be anything but a family. It was Sunny who had left them. Sunny who had torn them apart. Now she demanded to have back what she’d thrown away in such a cavalier manner years ago.

Kathy knew if she didn’t leave now, she’d say something that would only set back their recovery. “I need to go.” She got up and looked at Sunny, hoping—praying—she might understand.

“I need to be alone. Please understand.”

“But you just got here. I have breakfast for us.”

“Sunny, please. If I stay, I might say something I shouldn’t. I still feel angry, and I need desperately to find a way to let that go. You don’t understand how hard this is. I gave you up for dead. Gone for good. I thought I’d never see you again, and believing you were safely in heaven was the only way I ever got through the most painful days.” She paused and fought to control her trembling voice.

“You always knew where I was,” she continued. “You could have come back at any moment you chose, but I didn’t have that luxury. I didn’t know what had happened to you. I didn’t know if you were dead or alive, and the thought of you suffering nearly drove me half crazy. Please . . . I can’t stay just now. I’m not strong enough for this.”

S
EVENTEEN

“AND THAT’S HOW I LEFT IT,” Kathy told Sylvia as they shared lunch the same day at the Slocum Café. “I just couldn’t stay there and talk about all of this. Something happens to me when I’m left alone with Sunny.”

“What do you mean?” Sylvia picked up her glass of soda.

Kathy sat back against the booth and sighed. “When I’m alone, I pray through things and feel that I have control of my emotions. Then I see Sunny face-to-face and the past comes flooding back. All the hurt—bitterness—fear—desperation. I really feel angry at Sunny. I pray about it and think I’ve dealt with it, then it resurges. I try to push it back down, but it keeps coming back. Then you add my stress over the farm not selling, and I’m just not fit for company.”

A couple of old farmers came into the café. The bell hanging from the glass door jingled to call attention to their entrance.

“Howdy-do,” one of the men said as he nodded to Sylvia and Kathy. Kathy recognized the man as Mr. Bennett. He owned a farm to the east of town. The other man was Mr. Blevins. Both had been good friends of her father.

Kathy smiled. “Hello.”

“Meant to tell you I thought the funeral was real nice,” Mr. Bennett said. “Sure gonna miss your dad.”

Mr. Blevins nodded. “God didn’t make too many as good as Gary.”

“I agree,” Kathy said.

“Have you sold the farm yet?”

She shook her head. “No, there’s not been much interest. I’ll probably have Tony keep farming it and see about renting out the house until I can get a buyer.”

“I told my nephew about it. He was kind of interested, but now’s not a real good time for him.” Mr. Bennett seemed disappointed. “Wish it could be otherwise.”

Kathy sighed. “Me too.”

The men moved to the counter and nodded in affirmation as the waitress held up a pot of coffee. Around there, all farmers started meals, important conversations, and sometimes even arguments with a stout cup of coffee.

Kathy pulled her attention away from the men and looked back at Sylvia. “What were we saying?”

“You were talking about how your feelings of anger keep resurfacing. I think it keeps coming back because you aren’t really dealing with it. At least that would be my guess—I’m no psychologist.” Sylvia grinned. She and Kathy had been psychoanalyzing each other for years. They always joked about saving each other a fortune in therapy bills.

Kathy smiled. “You’re as close to one as I’ll ever need. I guess I just want to protect myself. In some ways, I’m afraid of Sunny.”

“But why? What is there to be afraid of?”

Kathy toyed with her silverware. Her cheeseburger sat untouched on the plate. “You know how I felt when we were younger. I thought Sunny . . . no, Amy and I were very close. See, it even feels like I’m dealing with two different people. Amy died and Sunny was born. Amy changed her name and identity and Sunny took her place. Amy ran away from home, but it was Sunny who came back.”

“And what if I said you weren’t the same Kathy? You aren’t, you know.” Sylvia frowned. “The Kathy I knew in high school had a positive disposition and could take on the world. She loved the Lord and knew that no matter what happened she could count on God to always be there for her. The Kathy I knew twelve years ago had dreams and ambitions—romance and plans for the future. You may have stayed here in Slocum, but you’ve changed.”

“I suppose so.” Kathy nibbled on a french fry and sat back once again.

“You doing okay?” Marcy Atchison, a slender sixteen-year-old, asked. She refilled their water glasses and waited for their response.

“We’re doing fine,” Sylvia offered. “Tell Marvin the burgers are perfect.”

The teen grinned. “You’ll just make his head swell. He already thinks he’s the best in the west ever since he won that award at the hamburger grilling contest in Hays.”

Kathy and Sylvia laughed. Marvin was nearly seventy years old and had run the Slocum Café most of his life. It had been handed down from his father, and Marvin thought himself rather the expert on his specialty—hamburgers.

They ate in silence until Kathy suddenly announced, “But it isn’t just about changing. It’s about thinking things existed that never did. I thought my sister and I were close. I thought we could talk about anything. I thought we’d always be there for each other. I misjudged her, Sylvia. I misjudged what we had.”

“So what? Things get misjudged all the time.”

“What if I’m misjudging her again? What if this time my misjudgment of the situation only serves to set me up for more pain?”

“What if it does? Are you going to go through life never attempting to love or trust anyone because you might get hurt?”

Kathy shrugged and offered a weak smile. “Seems like a plan I’d come up with, doesn’t it?”

“No. It’s not like you at all. That’s why you’re struggling with this situation. You are a loving and giving person. You want to trust your heart again to Kyle and have him trust you with his love. That’s asking a lot as far as I’m concerned. When your mother got sick you turned away from me to a degree, but if you had treated me the same way you did Kyle, I’d be hesitant to let you have a second chance.”

It was like a light going on for the first time for Kathy. “I did exactly to Kyle what Amy did to me. He thought we had something special—and we did. Yet I shoved it all away from me because . . . because I couldn’t see any way to deal with it and have what I needed in order to survive.”

Sylvia nodded. “It does sound familiar.”

Kathy felt overwhelmed with guilt. Excuses immediately came to mind. “But I didn’t lie to him. I told him how much I loved him. He told me he’d wait forever. He knew that my love for him was true. I didn’t know that with Amy. She was always lying to us. Lying about her actions. Lying about her needs. I completely misjudged her motives and may be doing the same thing now.”

“Why do you have to judge her motives at all? Why not just love her? She is your sister, after all. I know you have your aunt and uncle, but otherwise you don’t have any family except Sunny.”

“But what if she’s playing me for a fool?”

“To what purpose? Kathy, she’s in the same boat you are. She’s lost both of her parents and is estranged from her only other close family members.”

“But how can I trust her?”

“I suppose you are the only one who can answer that. You’re the only one who can decide what it is that you really need from Sunny in order to make this worth your time and trouble.”

“What do I need from her? That’s exactly what she asked me. She wanted to know what I needed from her to make this work—to make things right enough that we could be a family again.”

“And?” Sylvia questioned, leaning closer.

Kathy looked at her inquisitive expression and shook her head. “And what?”

“And what is it that you need?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how a person goes about figuring that out.”

“Oh, come on now, Kathy. You know better.” Sylvia sounded more like a mother chiding her daughter than a woman speaking with her friend. Her tone set Kathy’s defenses on full alert.

“Kathy, what is it that you need from our relationship? I know what I need. I need someone I can trust to keep my confidences. I need someone who will love me no matter what. I need someone who will forgive me when I take advantage of her and who will go the distance with me when I’m being stubborn and can’t see matters the way they really are. I get all of that with you. I get it with Tony. I couldn’t be best friends with either of you if I had anything less in our relationship. So I’m asking you again—what do you need from Sunny?”

Kathy thought for several minutes. The one thing that kept coming to mind was the one thing she felt she had no way of proving for certain.

“Truth.” Kathy spoke the word in a whisper. “I need the truth. I need to know that she’s being completely honest with me—that there will never be another lie between us. I need to know that the feelings we’re sharing are the real deal.”

“And if she told you that she would always give you the truth—would you believe her? Would you be able to feel confident of her word? Or would you just have to give it time and let her actions speak for themselves? Would you have to take a chance that this time things might be different?”

Kathy could see exactly what Sylvia wanted her to see. “There are no guarantees, are there? You keep telling me that, but I keep pretending it’s not true.”

Sylvia laughed. “Pretend all you want, but it won’t change a thing.”

“That seems so lame.”

“But it is true,” Sylvia countered. “We live in a world where lies are the norm. Where cheating and deception are actually rewarded. You can’t judge Sunny’s heart. You can’t know how sincere she is—but you can know your own heart and its sincerity.”

“And that’s really all I have. Isn’t it?”

Sylvia nodded. “It’s all any of us have.”

Kathy thought about that long after they’d finished their lunch. She went to the grocery store and picked up a few things for supper and tried to sort out her feelings. She would need to talk to Sunny when she got home. It was difficult to know exactly how to say what she needed to tell her. Their relationship was like a razor-sharp sword balanced on its tip. If it fell either way it could cut one or both of them to ribbons.

“Oh, Kathy. How are you holding up?”

It was Renea Stover—the last person Kathy wanted to deal with right now. Kathy forced a smile. “I’m doing pretty well. How about you?” The woman looked very pale and tired. There were dark circles under her eyes.

“I’ve been terribly worried about you. I must say I’ve even lost sleep. I just keep thinking about how awful it is for you to have to endure that woman in your house.”

“You mean Sunny?”

“Yes. Sunny. Sunshine. Amy. Whatever she calls herself these days. There’s nothing in a name to her. She has no respect for anything precious.”

“Now, Mrs. Stover, I have to say in Sunny’s defense that she’s a changed woman. She’s not the same person she was twelve years ago.”

“It’s good of you to defend her.” Mrs. Stover gave a look suggesting she thought Kathy the perfect balance of martyr and saint.

“It’s not because I’m good that I say that. Sunny has changed, and we should be willing to recognize it.”

“Bah. No one changes that much. She can’t possibly be as deserving as you say.”

Kathy thought of something she’d once heard Pastor Butler say. “But isn’t that what grace is all about? Getting what we don’t deserve? I can’t say whether Sunny deserves a second chance or anyone’s respect, but I can say that if I were in the same fix, I would hope people would extend me grace—and mercy.”

“She killed your mother.” The woman’s voice rose in volume. Then as if realizing her tone, Mrs. Stover stepped closer. “Your mother loved that child and she the same as killed her.”

“Yes. Mother loved Sunny. Mom’s dying words were love for Dad and me . . . and Sunny. She left Sunny a beautiful letter that told of her love . . . and of her forgiveness.” Kathy felt as though she could have been arguing with herself. The same accusations had come out of her own mouth.

Kathy gently took hold of Mrs. Stover’s shoulder. “We have to understand that Mom loved Sunny with a mother’s heart. A heart that you know very well would never withhold love because of something her child did or didn’t do.” Tears came to the older woman’s eyes as Kathy continued. “To hate Sunny is to hate someone Mom loved dearly. Mom would have died for Sunny. It didn’t matter to Mom that Sunny’s indifference had led her into a state of poor health. It didn’t matter to Mom that Sunny took advantage of her family. It only mattered that Sunny come home—that she know she was loved.”

“Marg was such a good woman.” She began to cry softly.

Kathy put her arm around Mrs. Stover. “She was a good woman, but so are you. You can’t let this go on eating away at your heart, causing you to lose sleep. And neither can I. We have to find a way to let God help us through—to heal us.”

“I know you’re right, Kathy. I thought I’d let go of it, but when I saw her again—it all rushed back. I thought of your mother lying there so sick and sad. She used to say, ‘Renea, if I could just see her again—just hold her and kiss her face—then I could be at peace.’ I wanted so much for her to be at peace. I wanted her to die knowing that peace.”