Chapter 5, Facing the Past
As Cathee pulled away from the Capitol Plaza, she felt a dark cloud of fear creep over her. She checked her rearview mirror and could see the same shadow of fear taking over Christina.
Suddenly, the thought she should sing Primary songs filled her mind. Tentatively, she started on A Child’s Prayer. The feeling in the car changed immediately. As Christina recognized the song, she joined in with her mother.
They had sung through I Am a Child of God, I Love to See the Temple and Teach Me to Walk in the Light by the time they reached the mall. As they climbed out of the car to start their afternoon of air-conditioned shopping, they were laughing together. It was a far cry from the feeling as they had left the hotel.
They spent the afternoon sifting through the sales racks in a variety of stores. After they finished clothing shopping, they stopped at a super center to buy food supplies for the following day. Cathee remembered to buy a small cooler to hold the milk, sandwich spread, and meat that would be used for meals. “Christina, could you grab those paper plates and straws over there?” She directed Christina across the aisle from the plastic flatware she was picking up. “I think that’s all we need for tomorrow.”
“Can we have some Pop Tarts for breakfast?”
“I was planning on cereal, but we can try something different for our vacation.”
“Thanks, Mommy.” Christina beamed as she stopped to examine the variety of flavors. “Which one should we get?”
“I liked strawberry when I was little, but you might prefer brown sugar. That tastes a little like apple pie.”
“What’s this one?” Christina was pointing at a box that showed dark brown and white stripes dripping from the pastry.
“That’s s’mores.”
“Oh.” Christina sounded excited. “That’s what we made last week in preschool!” Her voice took on a pleading tone. “Can we have some, Mommy? Please?”
“Go ahead and add them to the cart.” Cathee was curious. “How did you make s’more’s in school? Did you have a fire?”
Christina giggled. “No. Mommy. There aren’t any fires in preschool.” She giggled again, then continued in a more serious tone. “The teacher used chocolate-covered smallbread cookies.”
Cathee looked puzzled, then asked, “Do you mean shortbread cookies?”
“Yeah. That’s it. Shortbread.” Christina’s white teeth flashed in a smile. “Then I got to put a big marshmallow on the cookie, and the teacher put the plate in the microwave. We counted to ten while it cooked. The marshmallow puffed up really big. It was cool. Then I got to put another cookie on top. It was really yummy.”
“What were you talking about in class?”
“Remember? It was ‘F’ week last week. We were learning about Family Fun. Lots of families go camping. Can we go camping?”
Cathee shuddered and made a face. “I don’t think I could set up a tent. Besides, there’d probably be lots of bugs and snakes and mice. Ugh. Let’s just pretend we’re camping at the hotel. There are lots of trees in the atrium. Doesn’t that count?”
Christina giggled. “If we have S’more Pop Tarts, we can pretend we’re camping.”
Cathee reached for the box. “You have a deal. I like that kind of camping.”
After they had checked out and loaded into the car, Cathee turned to Christina. “Where would you like to eat?”
“I want a Happy Meal with Apple Dippers.”
Cathee laughed. “I should have seen that one coming. Maybe we can find a Playland, too.”
It was almost 8:00 by the time they arrived back at the hotel. As they headed to the elevator, Cathee could hear Garrett talking. Someone had left the conference room door open. She wondered how long his presentation would go. Cathee hesitated a moment. A desire to walk down the hall and peek in at him hit her. She mentally shook herself and continued on to the elevator. She couldn’t let this man take over her vacation. They were strangers and were destined to remain that way.
She didn’t want to open any kind of doors to her wounded heart. She feared the door had already been opened. Could she ever shut it again? And did she even want to go back to living the way she had? She could see her life wasn’t exactly where she wanted it to be.
Christina looked up at Cathee as they waited for the elevator to arrive. “Can we go swimming, Mommy?” Her question broke into Cathee’s thoughts.
Cathee shook her head. “It’s late, Honey, and I’m really tired. Let’s go swimming on Monday after we finish touring the governor’s mansion.”
Christina’s face fell, but she didn’t argue. She continued to stare at Cathee, her eyes skimming her mother’s face.
Cathee could see Christina’s concern and intuitively understood she was remembering her mother’s breakdown that morning. She stooped to hug her. “We’ve both had a long day, Sweetie. I think we should go to bed. Don’t you think so, too?”
Christina nodded as the elevator doors opened.
A few minutes after entering their room, they were both ready for bed. As they knelt for prayer, Cathee asked for a special blessing of peace and strength for the trials that lay ahead. She knew Christina didn’t really understand what had happened, nor did she understand they were heading into some difficult times, but Cathee understood clearly. She knew they would need all the spiritual strength the Lord could give them.
When she said her personal prayer, she asked the Lord to help her be a good mother to Christina. She wasn’t sure how much she should tell her daughter, and it ate at her. She’d never talked about Christina’s father. Up to this time, Christina hadn’t asked. But she also knew as Christina aged she would have many questions. She would need assistance in knowing how to answer them.
It didn’t take Christina long to drop off. Cathee could hear her even breathing. She couldn’t relax enough to join her daughter in slumber. As she tried to relax and breathe deeply, images she had long suppressed flashed across her mind.
After several minutes of tossing and turning, she got up and turned on the light next to the desk. She took the pad of paper sitting next to the lamp and started writing down all the things she could remember about the night she’d always tried to forget. She knew it was time to get the story out. She’d have to face an officer, and it would be much easier for her to hand over an already-written statement than to try to talk to another human about what had happened.
As she wrote, she tried to look at the event clinically, to tell details without filling the pages with the emotions, but she found she couldn’t do it. All the pain and anguish she had carried came pouring out on the paper. As she wrote, she couldn’t stop the tears that poured out. She grabbed a tissue and stifled her sobs so she wouldn’t wake her daughter.
She carried a fresh pain now. The pain of knowing she had the power to stop a murder and hadn’t done anything. If only she had turned Juan in. If only. If only. What a useless phrase.
As she wrote the events of that night, she could see everything from a different perspective. She felt a warm comfort spread through to her heart, and she could see clearly her reaction to what had happened did not cause Juan to kill another human being. Juan had chosen his behavior, and she could not be held responsible. As the thought impressed upon her, she knew it was inspiration. It was not a thought she would have had on her own. Her misplaced guilt had blinded her.
The two hours of writing had been a great relief. Just getting the story down on paper and dumping all her emotions helped release the dam she’d held inside. The dam had broken, and she wept. She wept for her pain, her past, her future, the dead woman, and for all the time she had spent feeling guilty when the guilt was not hers to bear. When she had spent all her tears, she fell into a dreamless sleep.