The Way to Yesterday (2 page)

From their first date, she'd known he was the man she wanted to marry. His
Irish charm had worked magic on her too-tender heart and their first kiss had
turned her knees to jelly. She'd loved him without caution and gotten pregnant
for her abandon. She had to admit that he'd never wavered when she'd told him
she was carrying his child. He had seemed elated and had quickly asked her to
many him that very same night. But his family, which had kept her at arm's
length from the start, was furious. As they were certain that she'd gotten
pregnant just to trap their only child into marriage, their cool behavior
toward her had changed to an underlying hate. And they were so good at it never
maligning her or making snide remarks when Daniel was in earshot, always
waiting until she was on her own. The sheer force of their will was eating away
at her sanity and causing friction between Daniel and her. He didn't
understand, and she didn't know how to tell him without sounding like a tattle
tale, so she kept her pain inside and let the infection of it spill out into
their personal lives.

In the other room, Daniel looked down at his daughter's face, marveling at
the perfection in such tiny features and felt his heart twist into a deep
abiding ache. He'd had no idea that love such as this even existed. He had been
certain that the love he felt for his Mary Faith was perfect and all-consuming
and then he'd seen Hope being born. The bond had been instantaneous and he had
expected their child to cement their love even more. To his surprise, Mary had
begun to pull away-keeping her emotions to herself in a way he didn't
understand. She rarely left the house and when she did, seemed to scuttle
through the errands like a crab seeking shelter, relaxing only after they were
home again. As for his parents, she had completely withdrawn from them and he
didn't understand why. It seemed the only time she was even slightly
comfortable was when it was just the three of them, alone at home. She had to
understand that his parents needed to be a part of Hope's life, too. After all,
they were her grandparents. He knew that Mary had grown up without any family
of her own, and would have thought she'd be elated to share his. But it was
just the reverse. Daniel wanted to believe that her reluctance to be with his
family was nothing more than needing to recover from giving birth. But Hope was
three months old now and things weren't getting better. They were getting
worse. He went to bed with a knot in his belly and woke up the same way.
Without knowing why, he was losing his wife, and it scared the hell out of him.
And because he was so afraid, his fear often came out in anger.

He heard Mary banging pots in the kitchen and sighed. He wasn't fooled. She
did that to cover up the sound of her tears. He looked down at their baby, his
heart full to breaking and felt like crying himself.

They'd made this baby with so much love-where had it gone?

Mary squirted a dollop of dishwashing liquid into the sink, filled it with
hot water and put the dishes in it to soak for a few minutes as she went to
start the laundry. Her back ached. Her head throbbed. But it was her heart that
hurt the most. Last night she had turned to Daniel in her sleep and awakened as
he rolled over and shrugged out of her grasp. She knew it was only a matter of
time before he told her he wanted a divorce. She couldn't really blame him.

He didn't know what was going on between her and his family and she didn't
know how to separate his love for her from his love for them. It was all a
horrible mess.

She shoved a load of Hope's baby clothes into the washer, added laundry
detergent and started the machine, then went back to the dishes in the sink.
Without thinking, she plunged her hand in the water and at once, felt a sharp,
piercing pain.

"Ooh!!" she cried, and yanked her hand back. It was dripping
blood.

"Mary! What's wrong?" Daniel called. "Nothing," she
said, then grabbed a hand towel and quickly wrapped it around her slashed
finger before dashing toward the bathroom.

Daniel looked up from feeding Hope in time to see Mary bolt through the
living room and then down the hall. Hope was almost through with her feeding
and already half-asleep. Concerned, he laid her down in her bassinet and then
went to see what was going on. He walked into the bathroom just as Mary started
pouring alcohol over the wound.

"My God!" he cried. "Honey…are you all right? What
happened?"

"Obviously, I cut my hand," Mary snapped. Her anger sideswiped
him, leaving him frustrated and hurting. And because he hurt, he lashed back.
"I can't win with you, can l?" he muttered, yanked the alcohol bottle
out of her hand and began ministering to her himself. "No matter what I
say, it's wrong." Then he peered a bit closer, assessing the cut. "I
don't think it needs stitches, but maybe we should go to the emergency
room…just in case."

"We can't afford a trip to the emergency room," she said.
"Just give me some Band-Aids. They'll do just fine."

Daniel froze.

Mary felt sick. Daniel looked as if she'd just slapped him. But if she went,
Phyllis O'Rourke would find out and she would find a way to say something
hateful about the money an emergency room visit would cost. She couldn't face
another one of Phyllis O'Rourke's tirades. He didn't know that his mother had
been sniping at Mary for weeks about the fact that her son was having to work
too hard on his own and that she should be doing her part by going back to
work, too. No matter how many times Mary had tried to explain that she and
Daniel had made the decision together that she should stay home with their
child, it never seemed to matter. Phyllis blamed Mary for everything wrong in
Daniel's life. Mary sighed. "Daniel… I'm-"

Hope started crying. Daniel took a deep breath and momentarily closed his
eyes, as if trying to make himself calm. When he looked up, Mary actually
flinched and took a step backward. That hurt him most of all. Dear God! Did she
actually think he would strike her?

Hope's wails increased. Suddenly, he snapped.

"Damn it all to hell, Mary Faith. That does it! I am taking you to the
emergency room. We'll drop Hope off at Mom's on the way. No need exposing her
to God knows what. And when we get home, we're going to talk. I don't know
what's wrong with us… but I am sick and tired of being shut out of your life.
Do you hear me?"

"No!" Mary cried, and clutched his arm. "Please don't take
Hope to your mother's house. I don't need to go to the emergency room. It'll be
fine. See…it's almost stopped bleeding."

Daniel ignored her and kept walking toward the living room to get their
baby.

Mary followed, still begging him to stay, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. She
watched in horror as Daniel got a fresh bottle from the fridge, packed the
diaper bag and then picked up their crying baby. Almost instantly, Hope's
crying stopped, but now Mary was in tears.

"I won't go!" she cried. "You can't make me." Daniel
turned, staring at her as if she were a stranger. "Fine," he said.
"Stay here. But I'm still taking Hope to Mom's and when I get back, we're
going to talk."

He strode out of the house, put Hope in the baby seat in the back of their
car and strapped her in, ignoring the fact that Mary had followed him out into
the yard, still begging him to stay.

The moment he laid Hope down, she began to cry again. But Daniel couldn't
let himself focus on her tears. Her diaper was dry and she wasn't in pain. She
just liked to be rocked to sleep and he'd laid her down a bit too soon.

"Hush, baby girl," he said softly. "You're okay. You're okay.
Grandma Phyllis will rock you back to sleep when we get to her house."

He closed the back door and then turned to get in when Mary grabbed at his
arm.

"Daniel… please! Don't! You don't know what you're doing to me."

He frowned. "To you? Damn it, Mary Faith! Don't you know what you've
done to me? To us?" Panic began to rise.

Mary stepped back, watching in horror as Daniel got into the car and closed
the door.

Her heart began to race-her stomach turned. She didn't want to be here
again. She knew what was going to happen. She'd seen it every night in her
sleep for the past six years.

Oh God… wake me up before the crash. Please… I don't have the strength to
see it again.

Daniel started the car. Mary stood, frozen to the spot, listening to the
sound of her daughter's shrieks. Daniel put the car in gear and began backing
down the drive. Mary could already hear the sound of an approaching siren, but
Daniel couldn't hear for the baby's cries.

Oh God… oh God.

The brown sports car suddenly appeared, careening around the corner and
fishtailing as the driver tried to maintain control.

Oh God… oh God.

The police car came seconds later, sirens at full blast-lights flashing.

And Daniel is looking at me, not behind him.

Suddenly, Mary bolted, screaming as she ran, and threw herself on the hood
of the car. Daniel hit the brakes and then put the car in Park just as Mary
slid off the hood.

His heart was in his mouth as he bolted from the car. Dear God…if Mary had
fallen beneath the wheels he would never forgive

Suddenly, he became aware of the sirens and spun in shock, just in time to
see the sports car spin out of control. A heartbeat later, the police car broad
sided it and the cars exploded in a ball of flame.

Without thinking, he slammed the car door to keep flying debris from hitting
Hope and threw himself over Mary's prone body.

Mary was in shock. The dream! It wasn't the same! It wasn't the same.
Overwhelmed with relief, she started to cry. Thank God. Thank God. Maybe this
meant she was starting to heal. Even if it was just a dream, she'd given
herself a happy ending.

"Mary, darling… are you all right?"

Daniel's weight on her back felt wonderful, as did the sound of his voice in
her ears.

"Yes, Daniel, I am now."

He pulled her to her feet and then held her tight, pressing her face against
his chest as he stared at the two cars engulfed in flames.

"If you hadn't stopped me, we would have-"

"Don't say it," Mary begged, and put her hand to his lips. Then
she moved from his arms to the car, opened the back door and lifted her
screaming daughter from the seat. "It's all right,
punkin
…
it's all right," Mary crooned. "Mommy's got you now.

You're going to be just fine."

Daniel watched the two most important women in his life walk back in the
house, then got in his car and pulled it back up the drive, away from the
flames. Already, he could hear more approaching sirens. The neighbors must have
called the police. It was just as well. He'd been too shaken too think past his
own family's safety.

With one last regretful glance at the cars and for the demise of both
drivers, he hurried back into his home and found Mary in the rocker, singing
softly to their daughter as she drifted off to sleep.

Without talking, he went into the kitchen, stood at the sink and stared down
into the bloody water for a moment, then pulled the stopper. As the water began
to drain away, he saw the knife at the bottom of the sink that had cut Mary's
hand. Cursing softly, he laid it on the counter, refilled the sink with clean
water and soap, and did the dishes. He could still hear Mary singing, but Hope
was no longer crying. At least she was happy because now he felt like crying.
He'd come so close to killing both himself and Hope. Bracing himself against
the top of the washing ma chine, he closed his eyes and dropped his head.

"Thank you, Lord," he muttered, then took the clean clothes out of
the washer and dropped them into the dryer before grabbing the broom and
sweeping the kitchen floor.

A short while later, he had finished with the morning chores. He went into
the living room to check on Mary and found Hope asleep in the bassinet and Mary
asleep on the sofa. Pain wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. Not
much, but just enough to remind him of what he'd almost lost. Then he picked
Hope up from the bassinet and carried her into the nursery- down the hall,
covered her up with her favorite blanket and closed the door. She would sleep
for at least an hour, maybe more. He went back to the living room, gazed down
at his wife's thin, pale face and then at the blood seeping from beneath the
bandages on her finger and sighed. She probably needed stitches, but what was
done, was done. He got a small towel and wrapped it around Mary's hand, then
covered her with an afghan. She needed to sleep worse than she needed stitches,
and he needed to think.

Chapter Two

Mary woke with a start, then sat up in fright. Hope's old bassinet was in
the living room, her finger was throbbing, and it was almost noon. She wouldn't
stop to let herself even wonder where that bassinet had come from or why her
finger was wrapped up in a bandage and towel. The last thing she remembered was
walking into an antique shop. How she'd gotten home was beyond her and why she
was on the sofa instead of in her bedroom was beside the point. She had
overslept and her boss at the dress shop was bound to fire her.

Thinking she would immediately call in to the store, she bolted to her feet,
frantically searching for the phone, but it wasn't in its usual place. Then she
saw the stroller by the front door and Daniel's jacket on the back of a chair
and went weak with relief.

The dream.

She was still having the dream, and as long as she slept, Daniel and Hope
were still alive. She looked in the nursery. The baby wasn't there, but when
she walked back in the hall and heard the soft rumble of Daniel's laughter and
a high-pitched baby squeal, it made her smile. Following the sounds to the
small patio beyond the kitchen, she found

Daniel in a chaise lounge under their shade tree, holding Hope against his
chest. She was on her back, her arms and legs beating the air as she gazed
upward into the treetop.