Leaving Yesterday (4 page)

“Here,” Ken continued, handing me a printout, “he gave me a list of things he’d like you to e-mail him. A summary, chapter titles, an opening paragraph, I can’t remember what all. I’ll be praying that God will lead you in this, as He has in all things.”

“Thanks, Ken.” I took the paper from him and returned to my office, happier than I’d felt in a long time. As disjointed as my life had been for the last few years, the pieces were finally beginning to fit back together.

I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how I would spring the news of Kurt’s turn to my husband. Tonight was obviously the right time, since he always picked Caroline up from softball, then ate dinner at the house before loading Caroline and her things into his truck for her three-night stay. We had planned it that way so Caroline could see things were still okay between us, that we didn’t hate each other. The one thing we had done right through all of this was to try to make our separation as easy as possible on her, no matter how hard that made it on us.

Should I tell him when he walked through the door? Let him eat first? I ran the various scenarios through my head, and in my fantasy, no matter when I gave the news, his reply was always the same. He always said, “All this time, you were right. I wish I had believed like you did.”

A woman could still dream. Couldn’t she?

Five

Rick and Caroline made their usual entrance into my kitchen. Caroline gave me a big hug and sloppy kiss.

“Hi, sweetie. How was softball practice?”

“Good.” She looked around the room. “Where’s Boots?”

“Asleep on my bed, last time I saw him.”

“Great.” She dashed from the room, calling, “Kitty, kitty, kitty.”

Rick folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter, a scowl deepening across his face. He waited until the sound of Caroline’s footsteps disappeared up the stairs. “A detective stopped by to see me at the jobsite today.” He stared at me so hard, I’m sure he didn’t even blink.

I, on the other hand, looked down and began to work the stir-fry in the wok as if it might burn at any moment. So much for planning the right time to break that news. Still, I decided to play dumb and find out what he knew. “Really? What did he want?”

“What do you think he wanted, Alisa?”

The onions and red pepper created a steam that burned my eyes and made me cough. I choked for a good twenty seconds before I looked up at him. “Judging from your tone of voice, I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“That’s right, I am.” He came to stand so close beside me that I believed the anger burning in him might singe my skin. “He wanted to talk to me about that Prince boy’s murder last weekend. But then, you already knew that, didn’t you? He told me he stopped by and talked to you on Monday.”

I looked full into his face. “You need to back up. You’re in my way.”

“I really don’t care.”

“You’ll care when the stir-fry chicken burns and we call to order pizza.”

He looked at the sizzling wok, then went to lean on the counter, arms folded in front of him. “When were you planning to tell me?”

I turned off the stove top but continued to stir. “Tonight, actually. I didn’t see any reason to call you before now. He said all he wanted to do was to talk to Kurt, and it’s not like you have known his whereabouts any more than I have for the last year or so. Besides, I knew you would get all upset—kind of like you are now. I just didn’t see any reason to go there.”

“You didn’t see any reason to go there?” He stared at me drop-jawed. “No reason to go there? He’s my son, too, isn’t he? You didn’t think I had the right to know that my own son killed someone?”

“See, there’s the problem right there. I knew you’d expect the worst of him. You didn’t say ‘suspected of killing someone,’ you didn’t say ‘wanted for questioning,’ you said he killed someone. Well, I happen to know that he didn’t do anything. I believed that even before I found out some really good news today that proves it.” I stared at him in angry triumph. I would win the argument because of the facts I possessed, but this was not how it was supposed to go. Why couldn’t we just celebrate rather than try to win these battles? It wasn’t healthy, I knew that, but there was nothing healthy left about the way we interacted.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Our son’s not even in Santa Barbara right now. He’s in Orange County at a rehab facility, turning his life around even as we speak.”

He stared at me for the span of a full minute, letting the words work their way through the rapidly dissipating cloud of anger. “Are you sure?” The childlike desperation in his voice made me want to put my arms around him. I didn’t.

“He called me this morning. He told me that he was all right, and asked us to forgive him.” Okay, I sort of twisted the pronoun from
me
to
us,
but I supposed that’s what Kurt really meant to say. No harm done.

Rick pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sank into it. “Rehab? Really?” He scrubbed his hands across his face, and for just a fleeting second, I saw the high school quarterback my husband once was, the one so full of optimism and ambition, before time had grayed his blond hair and life had crushed his spirit. “I’ve spent the last couple of hours sick to my stomach at the thought of what my son had become.” He rested his forehead against his palm. “Are you sure about the rehab?”

“That’s what he told me. He said he’d just come out of detox, and would spend the next six to eight weeks in a residential setting, getting the help he needed.”

Rick rocked his head up and down. “Part of me is almost afraid to hope.”

I knew how he felt, but Kurt was my son and I was always willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. This time I gave in and put my arms around Rick’s shoulders. “I know. But he really is going to make it this time. Just you wait and see.”

He made a sound in his throat, which might have been a laugh; I wasn’t certain. “That’s exactly what you said when I was teaching him to ride his bike. Remember that?”

“I was right then, too.” I smiled as I thought back to that warm summer day. It was a Saturday, and we’d walked Kurt’s bike over to the school so he could learn on the large, flat blacktop play area. Rick ran behind him, bent at the waist, holding Kurt up as he wobbled and failed over and over again. Finally, Rick stood up and rubbed the small of his back. “My back is killing me. I think we’ll have to call it a day.”

“Please, Daddy, just one more time.” Kurt’s eyes were lit with determination.

“Please, Rick, he’ll make it this time, just you wait and see.”

He rubbed his back and nodded, then proceeded to try again. And again. Not once did he mention his back, and it was an hour later before Kurt finally got the hang of it. Rick spent the next month on muscle relaxers and anti-inflammatories, but with a smile of satisfaction on his face. “It was worth it,” was all he ever said. That was the Rick I loved. The one who loved his family so completely.

When he looked at me now, I recognized the torment in his eyes. “Did you tell him … about us?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t see any reason to add any more to his burdens.”

He reached for my hand and squeezed it. For a moment, the last few years of anger and bitterness were overcome by the silent togetherness that far transcended our usual depth of communication. It felt so … right. I found myself remembering the smell of burgers on the grill, the sound of laughter in the midst of water fights, and the taste of happy tears after the sun set on another day so perfect I couldn’t stand to see it go.

The spell was broken when he pulled his hand away. “I told that detective I’d call him if I had any information about Kurt. I can’t believe how relieved I am to call and tell him that Kurt wasn’t even in town when that guy was killed.” He pulled Detective Thompson’s business card from his wallet, picked up the phone, and punched in some numbers.

He held his finger over the last digit. “When did he go into rehab, anyway?”

“I, uh, don’t know. He said he’d been there a little bit.”

“A little bit? That’s all you got?”

“His call caught me off guard. We didn’t talk for all that long. There are several things I wish I’d thought to ask, but I didn’t.” I turned back to the rice in the steamer. “He’d already finished the detox process. That takes several days, right?”

“Which rehab is he in?”

I poured the rice into a large bowl and walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Caroline, time for dinner.” I walked back to the kitchen, miserable with my lack of information. “I don’t know. He had to get off the phone before I could find out. The caller ID showed private, but I know it’s in Orange County somewhere.”

Rick smacked the phone back onto the charger. “A lot of good that’ll do us. A phone call from our son, coming from who knows where, claiming that he’s in rehab. It could just as easily be a cover-up because he thinks he’s in trouble. Until we can prove where he is, and when he got there, this is no help at all. If he ever calls again, you’ve got to get those details.”

“I know, okay? I made a mistake, I get that.”

Caroline walked into the kitchen and took her seat. She looked at Rick and smiled. “Isn’t it great that Kurt is coming home?”

He cast a disapproving look at me, then squatted directly in front of her and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I hope he does, honey. I sure hope he does.”

I just prayed my son would call again soon. With the answers that we all wanted to hear.

Six

I set my alarm extra early and got up to exercise. This was something I’d done routinely before Nick’s death, but afterward I couldn’t summon the strength to even care. The resulting fifteen-pound weight gain and increasing flab had always bothered me, but only the prospect of my son’s return energized me enough to get serious about turning things around. Suddenly, it seemed very important to get back to my former self, the person Kurt would remember.

I had a lot of ground to make up, so this called for serious action. I looked through my assortment of exercise DVDs and pulled out the one I remembered being the most challenging. I was certain I could still do it, and I didn’t have time to waste on the easier ones.

A few seconds later, the screen came to life with bone-thin women in tight spandex moving in directions my body simply couldn’t follow. Ten minutes into it, a heart attack seemed imminent, and the hard part hadn’t even started yet. I pushed the eject button and decided maybe to go for a quick walk around the neighborhood.

I lived on a cul-de-sac of a dozen homes. Well-kept but small lawns fronted two- story family houses, most with garages full of bicycles and hockey gear, and T-ball stands. It was a family neighborhood. As close to Mayberry as you could find in Southern California, at least I’d always thought so. Happy families, happy lives. These days, I felt a bit like the odd woman out, but I still loved this place.

I headed out into the beautiful shades of an orange sunrise, looked toward the sky, and prayed aloud as I walked. “O, Father, thank you that Kurt is in rehab. I
know
that’s where he is. I
know
that you’ve been watching over him all this time. Forgive me for any doubts I had, please give him the strength to get through whatever it is he needs to get through, and please bring my son back home.” The cool morning was invigorating, the sunrise beautiful. This had been a terrific idea.

I got home and showered before the time I normally even got out of bed, and to tell the truth, it felt great. I remembered now just how much better I had felt when I was exercising regularly. Today was the first day of a new habit; I was declaring it right now.

By Monday, not only had I lost three pounds, but I noticed I definitely had more patience with Caroline’s slow-to-rise morning routine. She apparently noticed this, too, because she said, “Did you get another call from Kurt?”

“What would make you ask that?”

“You’re just acting so happy, I thought you must be hiding something.”

I reached out and hugged her. “I wouldn’t hide good news like that, you know it.”

Just then the phone rang and Caroline and I raced toward it. I beat her out by a nose and grabbed up the handset. “Hello.”