Past Due (20 page)

She never considered how much her home had become a part of her until she was stripped away for her “safety.” All things familiar were gone. Her sun-dried linens replaced with the coarse antiseptic smelling sheets. The whipping of the wind and the gull’s cries outside her window, replaced with the buzz of florescent lights. She wanted to cry, but she felt spent and dehydrated.

Ten days.

It was only ten days.

Not an eternity.

In ten days, she would be back on the island, back in her home.

Maybe.

If it wasn’t rented. She rolled over and covered her eyes with her forearm. She inwardly cringed at the idea of strangers in her home. She stilled her repulsion with bigger worries– how would Tanner accept the truth? Would he resent her and how much? And what part would Tres play in their future? He said he loved her. But his arms, when they held her a few hours ago, were gentle, but held no passion, no intensity. His eyes looked tired, defeated. Was it just less than a day when she had him in her arms, bodies locked? When his hands felt like they burned into her flesh, unable to get close enough? His eyes were guarded today. He was polite. He was considerate. He was falling out of love with her.

She bit her lip and tried to block the thoughts from her mind. Maureen was right. She did dwell on negative thoughts. Tres said he loved her. He still loved her though fifteen years had passed. But she had no assurance that love could survive the problems that were to come. She had only one certainty in her future. Nothing would ever be the same. Be it for better or for worse. Maybe Tres loved her enough to get through all the difficulties. Maybe he could forgive her.

But then she remembered the very angry Tres who returned from his talk with his family bloodied. He evidently fought with someone. Maybe once his pity and guilt over her wreck were spent, he might start to resent her. And when Tanner found out how she lied to him, maybe he would hate her too. He could even choose to live with Tres. Then she would be alone.

She sat up with the thought. She suddenly couldn’t breathe lying down. She felt trapped in a suffocating bubble. Each breath felt forced, her heart labored with each thud. She had never been so out of control of her life or her future.

But she couldn’t panic. She took another deep breath. She would focus on getting home. She could not help her son from here. She survived the first hours of her evaluation, calculated every phrase and statement in order to get her stamp of approval and she felt she accomplished her goal. She would pass. She would be free in order to manage her life—to take hold of it and get it under control.

Be positive, Maureen’s voice whispered in her ear. She took a deep breath and lay down. Closing her eyes, she tried to sleep. She wanted to click the minutes off the clock until she could leave. But no matter how tired she felt, she couldn’t relax. She tried to quiet her busy mind, but her thoughts were filled with the day’s images—the look of pain on Tres’ face, the fear in Tanner’s eyes, and the frustration that replaced Maureen’s usually calm. She loved these people and she brought them pain. If only she had done things differently. The anguish of “what if” twisted through her like nettles through her guts. The worst of all the pain was the reality of what could have been. All the lonely years, all the heart ache– all so unnecessary.

“Don’t go there,” she told herself. But it was useless. All her focus and all her plans to keep a clear mind were no more productive than an attempt to throw petals in a Carolina wind. It didn’t matter what direction she aimed her thoughts; they simply went wherever they wanted.

She searched her mind for any diversion, even attempted to remember the lines to long forgotten hymns or poems—anything to clear her mind. A knock at her door broke her forced concentration and made her nearly leap from her skin. She sat upright on her bed as the door swung open. An orderly entered and asked, “Ma’am, you have a visitor. Do you feel like seeing her?”

Jenna stood and nodded her head. “Is it Maureen? I thought I couldn’t see her?”

“Ma’am, whoever’s here got a special pass from the director of the hospital. Because, no, Miss, you ain’t allowed no visitors.”

Jenna pulled on the hem of her hospital issue grey sweat shirt. She couldn’t do anything about the attire and there weren’t any mirrors allowed in the room, so she had no clue what her hair looked like. She had no shoes, so she followed the man silently in her stocking feet, smoothing her hair as she walked.

He threw open the door to the employees’ lunchroom and gestured Jenna inside. She hesitated a moment, unsure of who waited on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room.

She knew the woman on sight. She’d only met her once, but she remembered her, because no one, especially Jenna, could ever forget Barbara Coulter. To Jenna, Barbara was foreign and intriguing. A beautiful woman with impeccable style who quietly commanded respect through the dignity and authority she exuded from every motion and well spoken phrase. Jenna felt instantly like a miserable grey mouse in her sweats and tangled hair.

Barbara rose as Jenna entered the room. She smiled courteously and motioned toward the empty chair across from hers, “Jenna?”

Jenna accepted the seat Barbara offered, saying nothing but swallowing hard.

Barbara allowed only a few awkward minutes to pass before she dove in, “I suppose you wonder why I am here?”

Jenna nodded and moistened her lips nervously knowing soon she would be expected to speak.

“I will be honest,” said Barbara. “I have spent a lifetime being direct, so I apologize for the lack of civilities.” She paused only a moment before adding, “My son wants me to pull some strings and get you out of here. Beyond that matter of business, he has nothing to say to me.”

“Get me out? Oh, my,” she shook her head, “I’m sorry.” Jenna’s voice was little above a whisper. “He shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Why not? I’m his mother.”

“I realize that. But this is my problem, not his.”

“Quite to the contrary. You seem to be very much my son’s problem.”

Jenna flinched at the words. Barbara sighed and bit her lip, “Regrettably, that came out all wrong.”

“No, it didn’t,” Jenna countered. “I am the cause of Tres’s problems. I willingly admit that. And I plan to do my best to sort this all out. I just don’t need him to take care of me like I’m a child, or some damsel in a tower. I can fix this. I just need time.” She pulled at a strand of hair and twisted it. “I really don’t need Tres to be bothered with this, and I certainly wish he hadn’t bothered you.”

Barbara smiled at Jenna. “I like your spirit. Honestly, I do.” She leaned toward her, “I understand your need for independence. I myself became a widow at the age of forty-two. I had three young boys and a huge debt load which made me sick to my stomach. Plenty of people offered to help me, but I found it difficult to distinguish support from charity and pity. And to make matters worse, I heard through the grapevine that some well-doers in my husband’s family wished to relieve me of my home because they feared the Coulter homestead would be foreclosed upon. It struck me as wrong that they seemed more interested in a house and a pile of dirt than my children and myself. I refused to take their charity or their pity. But somewhere in that mix were probably people who had my best interest at heart. But I certainly didn’t see it at the time. Instead, I shut everyone out, with the exception of my mother, and went at it alone. I succeeded. I repaired my sinking ship with my own wits and industriousness.”

“So, you understand. You agree.”

Barbara reached out and tapped Jenna’s hand with her forefinger, “Don’t get too hasty, darling, this tale has a caveat.” Barbara drew her hand back and leaned into her seat, “In the period of time it took me to salvage my dignity and my finances, I lost my children. They grew into handsome young strangers right before my eyes. I allowed my tight little brood to become acquaintances. It’s for that reason, I beg you to accept my help.”

“It’s only ten days,” Jenna objected.

“Some days carry more weight than others. It only took one week to sever the ties between you and Tres.”

Jenna’s eyes popped open. “Are you saying you did this?”

“I had my part. I justified to myself that I was protecting my son. It’s a shabby excuse for interfering…though to be honest, I never dreamed a child could be involved. At that time, my son was still just my little boy. I never dreamed my little boy was living life as a man. But still, it doesn’t absolve me from my part in this fiasco.”

Jenna nodded and stared at her hands a moment before looking back up at Barbara. She thought she would be mad at this woman, but she couldn’t drum up any amount of indignation. Barbara was a mom. A mom who did something stupid to save her son pain. Jenna sighed, “Mrs. Coulter, until this morning, I never dreamed Tres didn’t know he had a son. I trusted you to give him my letter. I never dreamed a woman like you wouldn’t keep her word. I should be just spitting mad at you, but I’m not. I don’t know if it is fatigue, or shock, or what. All I know is I lived for fifteen years believing the man I loved abandoned me, abandoned his child. I never even considered he didn’t know. And I think that lack of trust from me hurts him as much as the loss of time. How could I let my life’s course be chosen by a single letter? Oh, my,” Jenna laughed and looked to the ceiling, “I left him one letter. One. Do you see the absurdity of that? God, no wonder he’s angry with me. I didn’t even try.”

“You can’t blame yourself. I should have given him the letter.”

“Yes, you should have,” Jenna said gently. “So, what happened? Did you forget? Decide I wasn’t good enough?”

“I hired a private investigator,” Barbara said, turning pale. She closed her eyes a moment then said, “And until this moment, I never regretted it. I must be honest with you; I came here hoping to find a liar and a villain. I hoped to find some evil gold digger that I could pay off and get my family back in order.” She sighed, her voice faltered, “What I have found is even further proof of how foolish I was not to better understand what was going on in my child’s life. I have found a woman who is kind and would have…” Barbara stopped and took a breath needing a moment to regain her composure before explaining, “I never read your letter. I burned it unopened.” Barbara paused a moment, her gaze falling to her lap. Her words were choked, “But you have to understand, I never dreamed… a child? I would never have walked away from my own family. You have to know that. And I know I have no right, but I beg you to forgive me. To let me help you now, to prove I am trying to right a terrible wrong.”

Jenna pressed her lips together. Tears burned her eyes yet again and she silently cursed them wishing to stay together, now more than ever. Pressing her fingers to the corners of her eyes as if to block their flow she answered, “Mrs. Coulter, I don’t blame you.” She abandoned the attempt to stop the inevitable tears. “Like I said, I was a fool to give up. But, I just figured a girl like me, with my history? Well, I figured Tres just got smart.”

“I did know about your past, and truthfully, I did use it to justify meddling in Tres’s life. But now, in hindsight...” Barbara pulled a linen handkerchief from her hand bag and offered it to Jenna. Keeping one for herself, she blotted the corner of her eye. “But your past wasn’t the real reason I insinuated myself between you and my son. Let’s just say it was the icing on the cake. Alone? It wouldn’t have done more than lift an eyebrow. I came from common stock. My father ran out on my mother and me when I was twelve, and I certainly wasn’t my mother-in-law’s first choice. I didn’t care one whit for your family history or your pedigree.”

“Really?”

“Well, you weren’t Norman Rockwell, darling, but who is?”

“My family history is a little more bizarre than most.”

“Granted,” Barbara said with a smile. “But you were but a child, and the sins of the parents have little to do with the offspring. I wouldn’t have blocked you from Tres if that was all.” Barbara closed her eyes for a prolonged blink, “I burned the letter to fulfill a promise I made to your father.”

Jenna’s mouth dropped. “My father? Are you certain? My father is...”

“Pastor Privett,” Barbara said. A moment of silence passed between them as she let it sink in. “Yes, I knew him. I knew who you were, and I knew your sister.”

“Angel? How?”

“Your sister and my other son, Craig, dated. And sadly, it didn’t end well.”

“Angel dated Tres’s brother? How did I not know this?”

“I didn’t know about it either until they broke up. Like I said, all I did was work. My boys didn’t talk to me about anything. No one came to me until someone was in trouble.”

“Craig was in trouble?”

“Most definitely. Your sister accused him of a many number of nefarious things.” Still no recognition in Jenna’s face. “I was ready to fight back when your father came to me. He explained to me your sister wasn’t well. He promised me if I helped him get her some proper care and absolutely assured him that Craig would stay away from you then he would reign in the situation.”

Jenna shook her head in disbelief. Craig? Craig was the guy who broke Angel’s heart?

“Your father was quite polite but very stern in his concerns. We both agreed it was best that our children keep a wide berth from each other. He understood Craig was innocent of your sister’s charges, but he didn’t want you involved with him at all. He threatened very kindly that you were still a minor, and he would seek legal action if Craig, well... I think you understand.”