Always Dakota

  “You wanted him out of your life, right?”

  Margaret swayed, and Maddy felt a moment’s alarm, especially considering the pregnancy. But Margaret rallied and took a deep breath. “Some days I wanted us to patch up our differences,” she said, “and then I’d start thinking about him with that woman and I’d get so damn mad I wanted to scratch his eyes out.” She shook her head wildly, as though to dislodge the mental image of her husband with Sheryl Decker.

  “Did something trigger this?” Maddy asked, hoping to shed light on the current situation. “The fact that he left, I mean?”

  Margaret looked down and nodded. “I saw an attorney.”

  “You did?”

  “I wanted to know my rights. Not Matt’s. Mine.”

  “Okay, I understand.”

  “Matt and I talked afterward and…and it didn’t go well, but then nothing has since that paternity suit. You notice Sheryl Decker included me in that lawsuit? She wants everything she can get from me…. Maddy, if you’d read her demands, why, it’d make you sick to your stomach. That woman plans to use her baby like a…like a weapon against Matt and me.”

  The picture was beginning to take shape in Maddy’s mind.

  “You know who’s caught in the middle of this, don’t you?” Margaret continued. “Matt’s daughter. The situation’s horrible.”

  “Oh, Margaret.”

  “And now he’s gone. He did it for me,” she whispered. “He left to spare me any more grief.”

  Maddy sensed that in talking it out, Margaret had been able to gain control of her feelings, and perhaps a measure of understanding.

  “A divorce isn’t what you want, is it?” she asked quietly.

  “No.” Margaret stood, her back straight, her shoulders square.

  Maddy got to her feet, as well. “You love Matt, don’t you?”

  Margaret didn’t so much as hesitate. “With all my heart.” Then as if it was all more than she could handle, she slumped back in the chair.

  “I remember when you first told me about loving Matt Eilers,” Maddy reminded her, hoping the memory would somehow help her friend—bring her comfort and resolve. “Frankly, I took your declaration with a grain of salt. I assumed your feelings were basically a schoolgirl crush.” Maddy sat down again so they could meet eye to eye. “Then you said something I won’t forget. You told me you knew Matt was no saint, but you loved him, faults and all.”

  The merest hint of a smile touched Margaret’s mouth as Maddy repeated those fateful words.

  “I don’t like what’s happened—with Sheryl and her baby. I’m not sure I can accept there being another child in our lives.”

  Maddy’s heart went out to her. The situation was painful and difficult.

  “But I want to save this marriage,” Margaret said forcefully. “My baby’s going to need his father and…I need Matt, too.”

  Maddy knew it wasn’t easy for Margaret to admit needing anyone or anything. Emotionally, Margaret Eilers was one of the strongest, most self-sufficient women Maddy had ever known. “So what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

  Margaret’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know where he moved—where he is. Oh, Maddy, all I want is for this pain to go away.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “When I realized he’d left…I felt this burst of relief…and then almost immediately this horrible emptiness. Nothing means anything to me without my husband.”

  Confused and anxious—and pregnant. Margaret had every right to feel unsettled.

  Joshua McKenna didn’t have much confidence in his skills as a father. Both his children had grown up to be decent, hardworking adults, but he accepted none of the credit for that. Marjorie had seen to the rearing of Sarah and Jeb, and he’d done little more than pay the bills.

  Sarah had been a rebellious teenager, just like Calla was these days. History seemed to repeat itself. Marjorie had sat up many a night worrying about her failings as a mother, the same way Sarah fretted over how she’d failed Calla.

  Jeb had always been an intelligent child—and much easier on his parents than his sister had been. Even before the accident that cost him his leg, he’d been an intense, quiet man. Joshua had watched with amusement the changes in his son since he’d married Maddy. She was everything Joshua had hoped Jeb would have in a wife. If only Marjorie had lived long enough to see their son this happy.

  After nearly twelve years, Joshua still missed his wife. He realized he hadn’t appreciated her nearly as much as he should have. A sad but all-too-typical commentary on marriage, he supposed.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and then sat in the recliner in front of the television, hardly thinking about dinner or what he’d eat. Probably something from the freezer. Sarah had lived with him for so many years that he’d grown accustomed to having someone else cook. He’d hoped Calla would see to his meals the way her mother had, but the girl was rarely home. If she ate, it was generally with friends.

  Last Christmas when Calla asked if she could live with him, Joshua had welcomed the prospect. The house felt downright empty after Sarah had married Dennis and they moved into a place of their own. So he’d invited his granddaughter to move in. Calla needed a home and he needed the company.

  These days Joshua wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. According to Jeb, Dennis and Calla had exchanged words not long ago. Sarah had been upset about it. Joshua couldn’t exactly miss the fact that something was seriously awry. Calla hadn’t been herself for days but, like him, she kept her troubles to herself.

  Joshua wasn’t one to intrude; for that matter he seldom even offered advice. He wouldn’t say anything now, except that he felt it was necessary. Someone had to step in, and since Calla lived with him, he was the only real choice.

  The back door banged and Calla walked into the house. “Evening, Grandpa.”

  “Calla.” He set his coffee aside. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Ah…sure.” She came into the living room, and Joshua reached for the remote control and turned off the television.

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  Calla complied and sat on the edge of the sofa, obviously eager for this to be over so she could make her escape.

  “How long have you been living with me now?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Practically ever since I can remember.”

  “That’s right. I’ve seen you grow into a beautiful young woman.”

  “Grandpa!”

  His praise flustered her and she seemed ill-at-ease with it, but he ignored that.

  “I’ve stood by and watched what’s happened between you and your mother for a lot of years. For the most part, I’ve stayed out of it, but I’m beginning to believe that was a mistake.”

  Her face was now devoid of emotion. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss my mother.”

  “I do mind,” he countered flatly. “In fact, I mind quite a bit.”

  She folded her arms, signaling her resistance. Joshua didn’t care; he fully intended to speak his piece whether she wanted to hear it or not. How she responded was entirely up to her.

  “Even though you rarely heard from your father, you placed him on a pedestal. Your mother didn’t say or do anything to enlighten you. Wisely, she understood that you loved Willie and needed your father—or an image of your father. But, in my opinion, she did more than shield you from the truth. She shielded you from the world.”

  “She shielded me from nothing!”

  “That was because you chose to run away. Of your own free will, you went to live with Willie. How long did it take to have your eyes opened?” he asked.

  Calla glanced toward the ceiling, but didn’t answer.

  “My guess is you got the message the first week you were with him. You ran away from him, too, remember? Still, it took you a total of six months to own up to the truth, to swallow your pride and move back to Buffalo Valley.”

  Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh. “Is there a point to this conversation?” she
asked.

  “Oh, yes, there’s a very big point.”

  “Good, because it’s exceedingly boring.”

  Joshua pretended he hadn’t heard that. “From what I understand, you and Dennis recently had an argument.”

  “He’s got a big mouth.”

  “Dennis Urlacher?” Her comment was enough to make Joshua choke back a laugh. “I’ve never heard that description of Dennis before.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Whatever?” he repeated. It was a word that seemed to punctuate his granddaughter’s conversation. An all-purpose response.

  When she didn’t speak again, he said, “I heard that Dennis stood up to you and demanded to be treated with respect.”

  “He’s a jerk.”

  “The hell he is,” Joshua said, unwilling to mince words. “You’re the one who’s been unreasonable. At every opportunity, you’ve mocked and ridiculed your mother.”

  “It’s what she deserves after—”

  “Your mother deserves your respect,” he shouted. He could tell by the way she went wide-eyed that his booming voice had shocked her. Good, the girl needed a shock.

  “Your mother has done nothing but love you. She’s loved you so much she’s overprotected you,” he continued. “When I heard about your little fight with Dennis, I wanted to stand up and applaud him for having the courage to challenge your rude behavior.”

  Calla’s lips were tightly pinched, but she said nothing.

  “Good for Dennis,” he said again. “Hell, I wish I’d had the courage to do it myself. You needed to be brought down a couple of pegs. It was time. Furthermore, I sincerely hope you listened.”

  “Grandpa, I know you mean well, but—”

  “No, you don’t,” he muttered. “You think I don’t know how anxious you are to get out of here. I expect when I’m finished, you’ll leap out of that chair like a prize-winning bullfrog and make a dash for the door.”

  Calla merely shook back her hair, then examined her nails, painted a sparkling silver.

  “I don’t care if you do make a fast escape, that’s up to you, but young lady, I advise you to hear me out.”

  Glancing at her watch, she asked. “Is this going to take much longer?”

  “It’ll take as long as it takes.”

  She sighed and fell back against the sofa cushion.

  “When was the last time you saw your mother?” he asked.

  “A couple of weeks ago. I see her a lot,” she added defiantly.

  “Visit with her, do you?”

  “I have. It isn’t like I ignore her.”

  Joshua knew Calla had sometimes visited her mother after school, but that’d happened mostly when Sarah was bedridden.

  “You owe your mother respect—and you owe her more than that. You think she did you so wrong, but have you ever stopped to consider all the sacrifices she made for you? I doubt it. Did you ever once stop to consider how much she loves you and how hard she’s worked to make you happy, often at the price of her own happiness?”

  The bored, martyred look was back.

  Joshua gripped both sides of his chair and then slowly leaned forward. “Calla Stern, listen to me. Grow up.” The last two words were nearly shouted. “You’re seventeen, and it’s well past time you appreciated your family.”

  She blinked, looking stunned.

  “If you want to inflict your moodiness on your mother, then my advice is to stay away.”

  “Fine. No problem.”

  “If you can’t treat Dennis and your mother with respect, then you and I need to have a serious discussion.”

  “About what?”

  “Your living arrangements here,” he said. “Either I see a dramatic change in your behavior or I’m going to have to ask you to pack up and leave my home.”

  Calla didn’t say anything for several moments. “Are you telling me you want me to move out? I—I won’t graduate from high school until next month.”

  “I didn’t say you were being forced to move,” he clarified. “What I said was that if you continue to behave like an unreasonable and immature brat, perhaps you should look elsewhere for housing.”

  Calla stared at him as though she had trouble taking in the words. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Trust me, Calla, I do. Shape up or ship out.”

  Sixteen

  It’d been a week since Bob and Merrily had heard from the attorney. Every morning, Bob expected to find an empty space next to him in bed. Most days he woke before the clock radio went off. His first thought was of Merrily, wondering if she’d slipped away as she had so many times in the past.

  The alarm sounded, and although he knew his wife was already awake, he gently patted her backside, and got out of bed. Some mornings it was all he could do not to ask if she intended to leave. Knowing was better than this damnable waiting. Somehow he couldn’t do it, though.

  They barely spoke these days. Bob buried his grief in work—cooking, cleaning, tending bar, remodeling and repairs. Only on rare occasions did he rent the hotel rooms, but with the approach of summer, this seemed a good time to spruce them up. He was repainting the rooms that needed it and freshening those that didn’t.

  Merrily, on the other hand, sank deeper and deeper into a pit of despair. Most every day now, she sat in front of the television, numbing her mind with soap operas and game shows. At night, she went into Axel’s old room and sat on his bed, weeping silently. Bob tried to help her, but nothing he said seemed to penetrate the wall of pain.

  Wednesday afternoon, Pastor Dawson stopped by. It wasn’t his first visit since they’d received the news from California, but it was the first time Merrily had been downstairs.

  “I thought I’d come over to—”

  He’d barely started to speak when Merrily flew across the room with more energy than Bob had seen from her in days. “Get out!” she roared.

  The minister stared, apparently too stunned to react.

  “Merrily!” Bob had never seen her behave like this.

  “It’s all your fault! We’d have Axel now if it wasn’t for you.”

  If Bob was shocked by this unexpected show of life, it didn’t compare to his horror when she raised her fists and actually attacked the minister, pounding his chest as hard as she could. Acting quickly, Bob wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away. She started to sob then, a heart-wrenching wail that came from deep inside her. The kind of sobs that relate an unspeakable agony. Bob turned her in his arms and held her, his own throat growing thick. Closing his eyes, he battled down his pain and dismay as he attempted to comfort his wife.

  Merrily clung to him, hiding her face in his shoulder.

  Pastor Dawson stood close by, his eyes filled with pity and understanding. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

  Bob shook his head sadly. There was nothing anyone could do. Merrily’s outburst had come suddenly and without provocation. Bob didn’t know what to think. They’d both been dealing with their disappointment in different ways; his method was to immerse himself in work, hers to drown in lethargy and tears. He would never have anticipated this type of reaction from her. It left him completely baffled.

  He led Merrily to their bedroom and was grateful to find the minister waiting when he returned downstairs.

  “Obviously Merrily blames me for what happened.”

  Bob shifted uncomfortably. “She assumes you threatened to turn us in to the authorities. I let her think that because I knew she’d never agree to contact them voluntarily.”

  Larry Dawson reached out and gripped Bob’s forearm. “We talked about that earlier. It’s not a problem. You did what you had to.” He paused. “You had a difficult choice to make and I believe you did the right thing.”

  “Would you have turned us in?” Bob demanded.

  “Thankfully, I didn’t have to make that decision.” His gaze held Bob’s. “In truth, I can’t tell you what I would’ve done. I was deeply relieved when you suggested talking to that attor
ney Maddy recommended.”

  “At the time, I thought we did the right thing, too,” Bob added with bitter insight. But he’d been wrong, and he’d suffer from that mistake for the rest of his life.

  “You and Merrily aren’t talking much?”

  Bob shook his head. “It’s too painful…I don’t have anything left inside to give her.”

  The minister followed Bob into his private office and sat across from him. “You need each other now more than ever. Merrily needs you more than you realize and—”

  “Yes, I know, but—”

  “And you need her,” Pastor Dawson finished. “You said you don’t have anything to give her. I understand your feelings, but Bob, it’s together that you’ll get through these next few weeks. One day at a time. Sometimes one hour or even one minute at a time. You’ve got to help one another and look to God for the strength to carry on. Take all the love you have for Axel and give it to your wife.”

  A lump filled Bob’s throat, the same one that had appeared at inopportune moments all week. “Merrily didn’t mean to do what she did,” he said hoarsely, feeling the necessity to apologize. “Her anger is really with me.”

  “I know. It’s forgotten, so don’t worry about it.”

  They spoke a few minutes longer. “I’ll think about what you said,” Bob promised as he walked the minister to the door.

  They shook hands and once again Bob was grateful for the good friends he’d made in Buffalo Valley. The pastor wasn’t the only one who’d shown him love and understanding. Hassie came by nearly every day, often with the flimsiest of excuses. Bob welcomed her company and her wisdom. She’d lived through a similar ordeal and spoke to his heart in ways that others couldn’t.

  After the minister left, Bob waited a few minutes, then headed upstairs. He found Merrily sitting in front of the television, staring sightlessly at the screen. Taking the remote control from her limp grasp, he muted the sound. She barely noticed.

  “I’m…sorry,” she whispered.

  “I know.” Bob knelt in front of her and took both her hands in his. “We need to talk about Axel.”