Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Episode 16 (13 page)

Late that night, Chad noticed Willow
’
s journal on the coffee table and opened it hesitantly.
She
’
d assured him that he was welcome to read them at any time
,
but it seemed like such an invasion of her privacy.
Willow had given up so much of her life to make him a part of it that he felt like any more intrusion was almost criminal.

This time, however, he opened it.
Curiosity triumphed over his unnecessary scruples and he sprawled out on the couch, munched on his sandwich, and flipped to the first page.
The first words surprised him.

March
—

It seems that nothing I do in this new life of mine is right.
One moment I think I have the hang of things and the next I
’
ve unwittingly stomped on more toes.
I have wondered at times if stepping away from Mother
’
s isolation was the best choice for me
,
but even if it wasn
’
t, I couldn
’
t go back now.
Life without Marianne and Libby
—
without Cheri and Chuck
,
it
’
s a sad thought.
Life without Chad?
Inconceivable!

On the other hand, I do see that our life made us selfish.
We did what we wanted, when we wanted, and with little regard for anyone but ourselves because our way of life encouraged it.
If Mother wanted to take up weaving, she did it.
She didn
’
t wonder if maybe the noise of the loom would hurt my head or if I thought the thing was ugly sitting in the living room night after night.
I may have found it obnoxious
,
but we each respected the other
’
s
‘
right
’
to be obnoxious I guess.
She
,
hated the idea of sheep
,
but I could have bought them at any time.
We both knew that if I wanted them badly enough, I would have just done it
,
and Mother wouldn
’
t have said a word.
It
’
s just how we did things.
It worked for us but rarely did we have to die to self.

He skipped a few months and read from mid-April.

I decided what to give Chad for a wedding gift.
Once he mentioned that he
’
d be giving me one, I realized that it was an opportunity for me to step out in faith.
I
’
ll move his things into my room and pray for the strength and the courage to trust.
I know I can trust Chad to treat me well
,
but I need the faith to trust the Lord that what He created as good is truly good.
Mother left no doubt in my mind that the things of marriage are horrible and to be avoided.
Mother wasn
’
t a liar.
How do I reconcile what she said with what God and the Tesdalls and my Chad say?

Chad swallowed hard.
He hadn
’
t realized how torn she
’
d been.
He reread it once more smiling in spite of himself.
She
’
d called him
“
her
”
Chad.
She was fond of him.
He
’
d known it for some time
,
but seeing that unintentional possessiveness meant a lot to him.
At times, he
’
d felt very alone.
He
’
d finally accepted that she might never love him as he loved her
,
and though it hurt to acknowledge it, it had also strengthened his resolve to love her as unconditionally as he possibly could.

He slowly climbed the stairs, crept into their room, and ran the backs of his fingers across the top of her head as she slept.
The second banana peel lay on the nightstand next to a pile of popsicle sticks.
From the looks of it, she
’
d eaten every
single
one in the box.
He sighed, kissed her cheek, and left whispering,
“
Love you
,
lass
.”

The trees swayed in the breeze as the morning crawled
past
.
Willow leaned against her favorite tree, held her fishing pole, and wished Chad was with her.
She had work to do but was so distracted that she
’
d given up after uprooting too many undersized plants instead of weeds.
Instead, she
had grabbed her tackle box,
fishing pole, bucket,
and
lunch, and took off
to
her favorite fishing spot.

She
glanced
at her cell
phone.
Nine forty-five.
Court was in session.
Willow tried to remember how to send a text message but her unsettled mind made her fumble until she gave up in disgust.
Lynne Solari faced the death penalty
,
and Chad
’
s testimony would likely be several nails in that coffin.
She
had
always
thought she
believed in capital punishment
,
but the idea of putting someone to death and ending th
e
chance
for
salvation was repugnant to her.

The look on Chad
’
s face when she
’
d said it still hovered in her memory.
“
Willow, she has had forty or fifty years of opportunities.
It isn
’
t like we killed her before she had a chance to consider her actions.
We don
’
t deserve a chance at salvation
;
we
’
re given one
,
and most of us throw it away
.”
His words made sense, she understood them, but her heart constricted at the idea that man killed to avenge murder
,
and in the process, stripped who knew how many years of opportunities to
yield
.

The fish weren
’
t biting
—
to her immense relief.
Willow didn
’
t really want to catch any
,
but at least
the possibility
absolved some of the guilt of a wasted day.
She
slid
open the phone and forced herself to concentrate on how to send a message.
Finally, she sent two short sentences.
PRAYING FOR YOU. MISS YOU.

The sun was too far on the side of the west before she realized she
’
d forgotten to eat.
She munched on her
sandwich and stared at the cell
phone.
He hadn
’
t called.
Court recessed for lunch over two hours earlier
,
but he hadn
’
t returned her call.
She tried again but no answer.
The phone said it was after four in the afternoon.
He should be home in an hour or two
,
unless they wanted him for tomorrow and at that point, he would get a hotel room.

She stood, put away her gear, gathered her things, and trudged back toward home.
Illogically, e
very step seemed
to go nowhere,
but eventually she stashed her things in the barn and put a pan of water on the stove to boil.
It was early
,
but she just felt like getting the work done and out of the way.

Every minute that she raked, milked, fed, and watered, she prayed and felt lonelier than she
’
d felt since those horrible days after her mother
’
s death.
Chad had accustomed her to companionship again
,
and not hearing from him hurt.
As she finished, she wandered with Portia out to the tree by her mother
’
s grave and sat curled there, her phone open in the grass and waited to hear.

“
He
’
s testifying against that family
,
Mother.
We have an advocate.
Well, I know we
’
ve always had
the
Advocate
,
but we have a nice human one too.
He
’
s very good to us
—
works so hard to help make everything here run smoothly
.”
Willow dropped her head to her knees.
“
He loves me
,
Mother.
Not just cares about me like he does about his sister.
Not anymore.
He loves me.
Sometimes I feel like I
’
m failing him that way
,
but he doesn
’
t seem to be upset
.”