My Heart Can't Tell You No
Read My Heart Can't Tell You No Online
Authors: M.K. Heffner
My Heart
Can’t Tell
You No
M.K. Heffner
Copyright © 2007 by M.K. Heffner.
Library of Congress Control Number: | 2007900716 | |
ISBN: | Hardcover | 978-1-4257-5275-0 |
Softcover | 978-1-4257-5226-2 | |
eBook | 978-1-4691-0284-9 |
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the
copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or
dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book was printed in the United States of America.
To order additional copies of this book, contact:
Xlibris Corporation
1-888-795-4274
www.Xlibris.com
[email protected]
38584
CONTENTS
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Richard T. Long, Sr.,
without whom this story would never have been written.
May his spirit live on and shine brightly.
Just as importantly, to my friend and mentor, Sally Fulmer,
whose encouragement and appreciation kept the pages turning
and the old typewriter keys clacking.
I dedicate this book, as well as my life, to my three beautiful
daughters, Katherine, Sarah and Jennifer. I will love you always!
I dedicate this book to all the friends and colleagues
who forbade me to stop trying.
And last, but oh so important, Mom and Dad—forever.
THE
PAST:
THE
BAKERS:
Jack
Baker
, father of the Baker family. Married to Sarah Cressinger Baker.
Sarah
Baker
, mother of the Baker family. Wife of Jack.
Jackie
Baker
, also known as Jonas, oldest son of Sarah and Jack.
Johnny
Baker
, second son of Sarah and Jack.
Tommy
Baker
, third son of Sarah and Jack.
Maddie
Baker
, only daughter of Sarah and Jack.
Lew
Cressinger
, Sarah Baker’s younger brother.
Janet
Cressinger
, wife of Lew Cressinger.
OTHERS:
Joey
McNeir
, neighbor of the Bakers, best friend of the two oldest Baker brothers.
Bobby
Green
, neighbor of the Bakers, best friend of Tommy Baker. Orphan.
Lena
Johnson
, first wife of Joe McNeir.
Brenda,
girlfriend of Jackie Baker.
Sue
, girlfriend of Jackie Baker.
Ilene
Baker
, second wife of John Baker.
THE
PRESENT:
THE
BAKERS:
Beth
Baker
, third wife of John Baker.
Jenna
Baker
, daughter of John and Beth Baker.
Jackie
Green
, Maddie Baker’s oldest son, also know as John Green.
Robby
Green
, Maddie Baker’s youngest son.
THE
McNEIRS:
Felicia
McNeir
, Joe McNeir’s daughter.
Oliver
McNeir
, Joe McNeir’s son.
OTHERS:
Rodney
James
, chief clerk at RJ’s.
THEIR PAST
JUNE 1984 | ||||||
1 | 2 | |||||
3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |
10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 |
17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 |
24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |
June 1984
J
oe McNier slowly walked up the small incline to the Baker house. The realization that he was finally coming home brought a silent sigh of relief. He was about to go inside when he heard voices from the backyard, detouring him instead along the side of the house to see who was there. The sight of three figures stopped him abruptly. The ease that had been with him only moments before evaporated as he watched them—regret, apprehension and even a bit of envy filling his chest. He closed his eyes momentarily with a slightly negative shake of his head. He wasn’t prepared for a confrontation already—not this soon, so he stayed out of their line of vision as he quietly observed them.
The two boys were oblivious to the stranger behind them as their play took them on journeys too far for an adult’s mind to reach. They were filling an old washtub with water as the sun beat down upon them. Joe had seen Jackie, the oldest of the boys, before, several years earlier. At about seven years of age Jackie was a good-looking boy with his medium-to-light brown hair and facial features that were a reflection of the boy’s Uncle John. The younger boy though, at three-and-a-half years, was of a darker coloring with his brown, nearly black hair, sparkling brown eyes and his quick flashes of smile. Joe paused a moment for a second look, noting the eyes were about the only things these two brothers held in common.
Long, sleekly oiled legs stretched on a lounge chair caught Joe’s attention. He recognized those legs and his pulse took a sudden leap. Maddie lay in the chair, her position hiding her face from the man who knew her so well.
“I don’t want to be a sailor!” The youngest of the two boys suddenly stood up and moved to the pile of sand a few feet away. “I wanna be a soldier like Daddy was.”
“Our dad wasn’t a soldier either,” retorted Jackie, the older brother.
“Was too. Ask Mommy.”
“Mom?”
“
Hmm
?” Maddie’s voice came from the lounge chair.
“Tell Robby my dad wasn’t a soldier,” Jackie asked her.
“Your father wasn’t a soldier, Robby. He wasn’t in the service at all,” she said gently.
“Yes he was,” Robby sang to himself as he pushed a jeep over mounds of sand. “Anyway, Jackie, soldiers are better.”
“No they’re not,” snorted the older boy.
“Yes they are,” Robby sang again. “They can march all over the place!”
“Yeah,” Jackie picked up the garden hose and walked toward his younger brother. “But, if you put sailors on land, they can walk around. What happens when soldiers are in the middle of a flood?”
“I dunno.” Robby looked suspiciously at the tall slender boy above him.
“They get sunk!” Jackie let a steady flow of water spurt into the sand pile, driving landslides of brown goosh over his brother’s army replicas.
A moment’s hesitation was all it took as Robby looked over his toys, then picked up a handful of wet sand and threw it against his brother’s chest.
“Jackie! Don’t even think of it!” Maddie warned as she saw her oldest son stiffen and take a few steps toward the smaller boy.
“Well look what he did to me!”
“I can see. Robby, you throw one more grain of sand and you won’t be able to sit down for a week!”
“What’s a grain?” Robby asked through wide, innocent eyes as he stood up and moved to his mother’s side.
“Just don’t throw any more. Jackie, go back to your water and pretend you’re driving a yacht. Robby, go build a tunnel in the sand and drive your jeep through it.”
“I don’t know how,” Robby moped as he headed back for the sand pile.
“Come here, dummy, I’ll show ya,” muttered Jackie, allowing Robby to follow.
With the feud subsiding, Joe watched as the boys busily went about building (as Jackie put it) an interstate highway. The boys seemed very involved in their construction when, for some reason Joe didn’t quite grasp, Robby stopped his work and looked directly at him. The smile that crossed Robby’s face reminded him of a smile he had seen before, but placing it seemed unimportant.
“What are you smiling at?” Jackie glanced at his brother.
“Daddy.” Robby’s eyes went back to his work.
“Our dad is dead.”
An impish grin seemed to spread across Robby’s face as he leaned forward and whispered an obvious scheme into his brother’s ear.
“No. She’ll yell,” Jackie said in a low voice.
“So?”
“Then you do it,” ordered the older brother, halfheartedly.
“No.”
“Go ahead, you’re brave. Do it.”
“All right.” Robby slowly got to his feet and picked up the hose. His steps were slow and calculating as he approached the woman baking in the ninety-five-degree heat. With a sudden squeeze of his hand, he let the frigid water free from the confines of the nozzle. In a flash, the woman was on her feet, exposing a darkening body covered only with a white bikini.
“ROBERT GREEN! PUT THAT DOWN!”
“Ah-ha! Look at Mommy! She jumped clear across the yard!” Robby laughed.
“Give me that!” She took the hose from the child. “Now get in the house!”
“Ah, Mommy!”
“Go!” She nudged him toward the front of the house but stopped with a suddenness that nearly knocked her son on the ground, when she spotted the thirty-five-year-old man watching them. Her voice came out in a single breath. “
Joe
!”
The sight of her had its usual effect on Joe. He felt as if he had been nearly winded, then the quick tightening in his lower region as he took in the full effect of her. At twenty-five she hadn’t changed much, perhaps only getting better with the passing years.
“Hello, Maddie.”
Her face seemed to pale before quickly taking on a cool indifference. “Run in the house and get your sneakers, Robby, and get Jackie’s too. We’ll go home now.”
“I won’t spray you no more. Can’t we stay?” Robby whined.
“No. We have to go home now. Gram and Pap have company.”
“But Gram’s making sketties. She said I could eat with her!”
“Me too,” Jackie chimed in from the rear as he dropped the jeep and moved to join them. “Gram said we could eat sketties with her.”
“Did you come to eat sketties with Gram too?” Robby asked Joe through excited eyes.
“I didn’t know she was making spaghetti. But I know from personal experience your gramma makes the best spaghetti in the state,” Joe answered Robby, then looked up at the tot’s mother as he continued. “I don’t think I’ll be eating here today though. Maybe some other time.”
“Are you going in to see them?” Robby asked. His continuing the conversation was obviously irritating his mother.
“I thought I might. That is, unless you have any objections.” Joe pivoted the conversation to Maddie a few feet away. His eyes moved down over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts, his blatant admiration making her reach for her robe.
“I have no say in who comes or goes in this house. I don’t live here anymore. I am curious as to why you’re here though, appearing suddenly, out of the blue. But then that’s your style, isn’t it? Old reliable McNier, never around when he’s needed, then, once everything is calmed down—
poof
—there he is!” She snapped her fingers with emphasis then walked past him to the front of the house. “Well, come in. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you.
They
usually are.”
“I can see you’re just overwhelmed, kid. Well, ya better get used to it because I moved back.”
“You what?” Her frigid response stopped them as they were about to follow the boys inside.
“You heard me,” he said quietly as he walked past her and into the house known as the
new
house, although the Bakers had lived in it more than sixteen years.
“Shut up,” Jackie whispered from the middle room as he attempted to quiet his younger brother. “Gram’s sleeping.”
“Where’s Pap?” Robby whispered back.
“In the cellar—can’t ya hear him?”
“Can we go down with Pap?” Robby asked his mother anxiously after pausing to hear a motor running from the floor beneath them.
“You have to ask Pap first, then, if he says so, you can. But be careful—and make sure you listen to him!” she called after the boys already on their way into their grandparents’ basement.
“Pap, you want us to come down with ya, don’t ya?” Robby asked from behind the closed door.
“Come down,” Jack Baker called in return.
Joe couldn’t help noticing the smile in Maddie’s eyes as she watched her children; a maternal pride she quickly masked when she turned to face him.
“She’s in the living room,” she told him stiffly. “You might as well go in. She’s probably only dozing.”
Dozing? Sarah Baker was not one to fall asleep during the day unless something was wrong. Slowly, Joe approached the living room doorway, not knowing exactly what to expect. At first glance he didn’t recognize her. This pale woman was at least fifty pounds overweight, with swollen ankles at the ends of her still shapely legs; a swollen stomach larger than any pregnancy would allow, and gnarled hands at the ends of otherwise slim arms. The soft, fine hair now held more gray than its original black.
He hesitated as he looked at her sleeping in the recliner. She was a relatively young woman, only fifty-six, and yet she looked worn and tattered. As he knelt next to her chair and covered her hand with one of his, he could feel the warm, gentle strength he had always admired and time seemed to stop and flow steadily back twenty-five years to when Joe was ten years old.
MARCH 1959 | ||||||
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |
15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |
22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 |
29 | 30 | 31 |
