Obsession (21 page)

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Authors: Kathi Mills-Macias

BOOK: Obsession
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“Oh, Father,” she sighed, “show me what to do. Give me some direction, some guidance. Open a door, or… close one. Please, show me something.”

 

 

Tyler was thrilled. Not only had Melissa agreed to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, she had suggested they have a picnic in the backyard. Their sandwiches and apples quickly consumed, Melissa now sat on the top step of the back porch. She wrote in her journal as Tyler played on his swing set, alternately soaring back and forth through the air on a swing, then sliding gleefully down the slide. Periodically he would call out, “Lissa, look what I can do!” Then he would perform some slight variation to his last trick, going backward or headfirst down the slide, or twisting the chains of the swing and then letting go and spinning in circles. Each time Melissa would applaud his efforts, then return to her journal.

It's really a beautiful day today, Dad. I wonder if you can see that from heaven

or wherever you are. I know if there's such a place as heaven, you're there. But… what if there isn't? What if Pastor Michael and Toni and Brad and… even you… are wrong? What if you just die and… that's it? Nothing else. Just darkness. No hearing or seeing or…

Melissa shivered in spite of the warm sunshine almost directly overhead. Ever since finding out about her father's autopsy, she hadn't been able to get warm. She thought that maybe she felt cold inside, the way she imagined her father might feel. Then she wondered if he felt anything at all. She certainly hoped he hadn't felt anything during the autopsy. She began to write again.

I'm so mad at Toni for doing that. Wasn't it bad enough that you died? Did she have to make them cut you open? And for what? Just to
prove to her what everybody else already knew, everybody but that Abe Matthews. I wish she'd never met him. I'm glad she's finally back with Brad, but… it's not like it used to be with them. I can tell. I think Brad can too. I wish they'd hurry up and get married.

“Lissa, are you going to come to my party?”

Melissa looked up. Tyler, his cheeks red and his dark hair damp with sweat, stood directly in front of her.

“What party?”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “My birthday, remember? I'm finally going to be seven.”

Melissa smiled. “Sorry, I forgot. It's in September, isn't it?”

“Yep.” Tyler nodded excitedly, his eyes dancing. “Two more months, right after school starts. We're going to invite some of my friends from school and all my cousins. We're going to have hot dogs and chocolate ice cream and cake and… what else? Oh yeah, punch. And we're going to play games and have prizes… right here in the backyard, unless it's raining. It's going to be so much fun. You're coming, aren't you? Please?”

“I wouldn't miss it. I'm sure it's going to be a really special day.”

Tyler's smile lit up his entire face, then slowly faded away. “I just wish my dad was coming. Mom says Texas is too far away. Have you ever been to Texas?”

Melissa shook her head. “No, I haven't.”

“Me neither. I think I'd hate it there. Do you think my dad likes it?”

“It's hard to say, especially since I don't know your dad, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. But…” His chin came up and he looked quite serious. “I've been praying, Lissa, every day and every night, and I think God's gonna bring my daddy home for my birthday.”

Melissa swallowed, determined not to let him see her tears. She nodded in silent agreement as he turned to walk back to his swing set.
Oh, God, if you're up there… if you're listening and if you care at all, please don't let that little boy be hurt again. He's already been through
so much, losing his father the way he did. And now, with his birthday coming…

The realization hit her like a sledgehammer. How could she have forgotten? Had she purposely blocked it out? Toni hadn't mentioned it either, but maybe that was to protect her. In spite of Toni's bizarre behavior lately, she had always been very protective of her little sister, and Melissa appreciated it—most of the time. Sooner or later, Melissa would have thought of it though. It was, after all, only two days away. Sunday, July 25, would have been Paul Matthews's fifty-third birthday. There was a time that fifty-three had seemed almost ancient to Melissa. Now it seemed young, far too young for her handsome, fun-loving father to die—far too soon for him to leave her behind.

Melissa began to write again, struggling to see through the tears that blurred her vision.
How different today would have been if you were still alive, Dad. Toni and I would be planning something special

a party, or maybe a cookout. Brad would be there, for sure. Things would be so good, so happy and fun, like they used to be. Oh, Dad, I miss you so much. How am I ever going to stop hurting like this?

 

 

Once again Melissa had opted to go home after church with Carrie and her family. Once again Toni had acquiesced, although she was more than slightly surprised that Melissa had not mentioned their father's birthday or said anything about going to the gravesite. She had, however, promised to be home in time to go to Brad's parents' house for dinner. The Andersons had extended the invitation right after church that morning, and the sisters had readily agreed. It would be the first time they had been over there since before their father's death. Brad had been ecstatic, inviting them to spend the entire afternoon with him before going to his parents' home. Surprisingly, not only Toni but Melissa had declined, Toni mumbling a vague excuse
about having something else she needed to do, Melissa wanting to spend time with Carrie.

Toni, however, knew before she drove out of the church parking lot exactly what it was that she was going to do before going to the Andersons' home for dinner. It was her father's birthday, and she had always spent that day with him. Today would be no exception. Stopping off at home just long enough to change into some cool cotton slacks and a sleeveless blouse, Toni headed straight to the cemetery. Parking her Taurus in the shade, she carried her Bible, a sports bottle full of cold water, and an old blanket to her parents' gravesites. Spreading the blanket in the shade of the huge pine tree, she sat down near the twin headstones, laying her Bible and the water bottle on the blanket beside her. She fought tears as the fresh earth on her father's grave reminded her that, at her insistence, he had only recently been exhumed for an autopsy.

“Hi, Dad,” she said softly. “I… I know you're not really here, but… I just wanted to say happy birthday. I don't imagine you have to worry about birthdays anymore, since you'll never grow old.” Her voice cracked. “But I can't help remembering.… Birthdays were always such a special time at our house, thanks to you, and Mom, of course. Now I wonder if… they will ever seem special again, if anything will ever seem special.…

“Oh, Dad, I've made such a mess of things. I truly have. I never should have talked Dr. Jensen into helping me get that autopsy. What did it prove? Only that you had a heart attack, just as Dr. Jensen suspected. And now Melissa… she's so hurt and confused. This autopsy thing sure didn't help, and she's so angry at Abe and at what she sees as his part in influencing me to pursue the autopsy, not to mention what my involvement with him almost did to my relationship with Brad. Fortunately, that relationship has been patched up—at least, I guess it has. Brad seems happy anyway. Now if I could just get past my feelings for Abe, then maybe—”

I am your Father.

The abrupt shift in focus from her earthly to her heavenly Father jolted her as the memory of those words echoed in her heart almost as clearly as the first time she had sensed them. But she was puzzled. What did God mean? What was he trying to say to her with that reminder?

Trust me.

She gasped. It was obvious now that God was doing more than simply reminding her of what he had previously said. He was trying to help her understand something, but… what? What was it she didn't seem to understand? God had said he was her Father, that she was to trust him…. As the realization began to wash over her, she sensed a melting of something deep within, a fear that she had not been able to name—until now. It was the fear that, since her mother's death and then her father's, she must carry the weight of responsibility for herself and for Melissa on her own shoulders, a responsibility she felt totally inadequate to handle. As she meditated on her Father's words, she realized that concept was exactly what he wanted her to grasp. Of course, she was inadequate. She was never meant to carry such responsibility. God wanted only that she recognize him as her Father in every sense of the word: faithful, dependable, omnipotent, loving—more even than her earthly father had ever been. In addition, he would never leave her nor forsake her, a promise Paul Matthews had never made to her because it would have been impossible for him to keep.

It's you I should be talking to, isn't it? You I should be calling Father and pouring my heart out to. As wonderful and loving as my dad was, only you can answer my deepest longings and lead me where I need to go. I'm sorry, Father. I'm so sorry….

As she sat there crying softly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she knew who it was without turning to look. Toni prayed that the sight of the fresh earth on her father's grave wouldn't make their already strained relationship worse.

Melissa sat down on the blanket beside her, graciously saying nothing about the visible reminder of the autopsy. Silently, together they
honored their father's birthday. Toni thanked her heavenly Father for restoring their relationship, and asked him to bring Melissa to the same realization that he had given to her. It was a full fifteen minutes before either of them spoke.

“I'm not cold anymore,” Melissa said.

Toni wasn't sure what her younger sister meant, but she sensed it was a good sign. She nodded and smiled.

“I wasn't going to come,” Melissa explained, staring at her father's headstone. “That's why I went to Carrie's after church, so I wouldn't have to think about… Dad's birthday. It didn't work though, so here I am.”

Toni reached over and squeezed her hand. “I'm glad.”

“Me too. I've missed you. It's been… lonely.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry about—”

Melissa interrupted her. “It's OK. I wish you hadn't done it, but… it's OK.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Then Melissa asked, “How soon do we need to go home and get ready to go to the Andersons'?”

“Not for a while yet. We've got plenty of time.”

“Good. I'd like to just stay here—together—if we could.”

“I think that's a good idea,” Toni agreed.

With their backs against the rough trunk of the faithful sentry that overshadowed their parents' graves, they rested, each lost in her own thoughts but no longer grieving alone.

CHAPTER 10

T
oni, Melissa. It's so good to see you again.” Barbara Anderson, color-coordinated in her pink seersucker dress and white summer beads, welcomed the Matthews sisters in her usual warm manner. With a brief hug and a peck on the cheek for each of them, the tall, slender, neatly-coifed blonde ushered them into the spacious house and then out onto the patio, where Brad and his father, George, a slightly older and balding version of his son, were sharing barbecue-detail. Both wore short-sleeved shirts and cotton slacks, and each had donned an apron for the occasion. Brad's was bright red, with no design or lettering, while George's blue apron boldly announced, “You may kiss the cook.” Toni immediately went to him and planted a kiss on his cheek, laughing as she explained that she was taking his apron at face value.

“I knew there was a reason you wanted that apron instead of this one,” Brad complained to his father. “Could I borrow it for a minute?”

George laughed. “Since when do you need a special apron to get a kiss from your fiancée?”

Toni smiled as Brad took her into his arms and kissed her, and everyone applauded. “You're right,” said Brad. “Forget the apron.” He kissed her again, then turned to Melissa. “And what about you? Do I get a kiss, or do I need the right apron?”

“No problem, Bro.” Melissa and Brad hugged, then exchanged pecks on the cheek before Melissa went to George for a greeting as well. The official welcomes completed, Barbara took cold drink orders from everyone and headed back into the house. Toni was right behind her.

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