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Authors: A Slender Thread

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BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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“Yes, it is,” Ashley agreed. “But it’s more than that. Or at least it should be.” Her voice faded for a moment before she continued. “And unfortunately, there never seem to be enough hours in the day. Sometimes I just wish everything would come to a grinding halt. Like right now. There’s no place I need to be. Nothing I need to be doing. I can sit here all night if I want to, and no one will be the worse for it.”

“So how do we capture this slow pacing for our otherwise outof-control lives? After all, we have to go home sometime. And as I recall, we were both rather anxious to get away from all this peace and quiet when we were younger.”

“I’m not sorry I left,” Ashley stated thoughtfully. “And I can’t say that I would ever want to come back to this on a permanent basis. It’s just that sometimes I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”

“But you are happy, aren’t you?” Brook sat up and eyed Ashley as though her answer carried great weight.

“I think so. But sometimes I wonder . . .” Ashley said. She could never have lied to Brook even if she had wanted to, but it wasn’t a lie to admit that she was confused by her own existence.

Brook crossed her legs and leaned forward. With elbows on her knees and her hands cradling her own face, she looked very much like a lost little girl. Ashley wondered if Brook was more miserable than she let on. She knew Brook would tell her the truth if she asked, but a part of Ashley wondered if she really wanted to know. The fact was, Ashley felt confident she already knew. Brook had told her how worried she was for her future and how confused she was about what her choices might be. Ashley didn’t really need to ask.

“I am happy,” Ashley finally said. “I know what I have. I know what I can count on and what I can’t. I’ve adjusted to Jack’s schedule and to the social life we’re expected to participate in. I have my sons, and they make me very happy.”

“But . . . ” Brook prompted, not even bothering to look at Ashley.

“I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth.” Ashley shook her head. “Sometimes, like yesterday when I first saw Harry, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve missed the boat altogether. Then again, there’s the realization that so much of what I’ve done has been accomplished in order to prove something to Rachelle. I feel so stupid. I guess just thinking about it causes me to feel discontent and . . . and almost fearful for my future.”

“Do you have a reason to fear?”

“No. Not really.” Ashley sighed. “I know this sounds so silly, but I guess it’s almost a feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Brook nodded. “Yes. That’s it exactly.”

“You know what I’m talking about?”

Brook turned ever so slightly and raised her head. “We’ve known the good of life, and we’re afraid someone or something might come along and take it from us. Harry has never stepped outside of his area of comfort to risk everything for something new. But we have. We know what it is to start from scratch, and now that we’ve built ourselves a comfortable life, we fear that we could just as easily lose it.”

“But I can understand
you
feeling that way,” Ashley said, hoping Brook wouldn’t take offense. “Your career hinges on public opinion and approval. You do have some uncomfortable decisions to make because of what you do for a living. But I shouldn’t feel this way. I have stability. A family. A home. I even love my church, although I’m sure Grammy would say I’m more of a pew-warmer Christian than an everyday one.”

Brook laughed. “Grammy is so dear. But I worry about her.”

Ashley nodded. “So do I. I mean, look at all of this. She’s taken such loving care of the grounds. I know Harry mows the larger portions, but Grammy is the one who plants and tends it. I remember when we were little girls and she taught us to plant a vegetable garden.”

Smiling, Brook added to the memory. “She made us put stakes in the ground at each end of the garden and then she’d tie a string to each stake and that way she could keep straight rows.”

“She said life was the same way. We needed to focus on the stakes God puts out for us and make our rows straight in accordance.”

Brook nodded. “ ‘Christians have a tough row to hoe,’ she’d tell us. I had imagined that when we grew up we’d have to be hoeing all the time. Either when we tended a garden or when we shared our faith.”

Ashley laughed. “Remember how we’d drag the corner of that hoe along the dirt, just under the string? We were so meticulous in
our labor. We watched that string every step of the way in order to make sure our furrows were straighter than anyone else’s.”

“I do remember,” Brook said, and her voice had that faraway sound that matched Ashley’s thoughts.

“Grammy always had us planting, weeding, or picking one thing or another. I used to hate it, but now I’m glad for the training we had. Sometimes her stories and examples are so clear in my life,” Ashley admitted. “Still, I think she’d be disappointed in me if she had to spend much time in my world.”

“Me too,” Brook replied. “My world has very little in common with Grammy’s teachings. People are harsh and ruthless. They care very little for each other. Everything has its price—yet nothing seems to matter much.”

“What about love, Brook? Haven’t you managed to meet anyone who strikes your fancy?” Ashley watched as Brook turned to gaze back out over the water.

“My fancy has very little to do with it. I’ve met some really nice men in the past years. But just when things start to progress beyond the place where we introduce ourselves and share a few dates, well, I get too uptight. I try not to let the past influence me, but I can’t seem to shake it.”

“Because of Rachelle?”

Brook nodded. “I’m so hesitant—so afraid to get close to anyone. It’s just hard for me to trust.”

“But you don’t want to go through life alone, do you?”

“Not particularly, but neither do I want to be hurt.”

“Life hurts. That’s just the way it is.”

“But it shouldn’t have to hurt that much,” Brook said softly. “Every time I start to think about someone—seriously think about them—I remember the pain I felt when I was a little girl. Do you remember when we still shared the same room, the one I have now?”

Ashley nodded and Brook continued. “We were four years old the last time Rachelle came home to see us. I remember we were asleep in our room and Rachelle started arguing with Grammy and
it woke me up. You were still asleep, but I went to the door and opened it up just enough to hear their words. Rachelle was telling Grammy how we were a burden, how she didn’t want to be bothered with motherhood and all its problems. That if Grammy didn’t want us, she’d put us up for adoption. Grammy told her she couldn’t possibly mean what she was saying, but Rachelle assured her that she did.

“Then she said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. She told Grammy that if she could have found a way to rid herself of us before we were born, she would never have had a single one of us.”

“I remember,” Ashley said, her brow knitting together. “I only pretended to be asleep. Once you opened the door, I heard everything.”

Brook looked at her strangely. “You didn’t tell me you were awake.”

“It hurt too much. I almost felt like if we didn’t talk about it, it wasn’t true. I kept thinking I’d misunderstood her. That I didn’t know what all the words meant.”

“I know. I remember now that the word ‘abortion’ was mentioned, but at four years old, I had no idea what that meant. But when I got older I knew, and I remembered.” Brook bit at her lower lip. “It hurt knowing she hated me enough to wish me dead. And I just can’t deal with that kind of pain again. I keep imagining giving my heart to someone only to have the love die and hear him say to me that if he could only have found a way to avoid ever having known me, he would have.”

“Better to not love anyone than to have someone come to hate you, is that it?” Ashley asked.

“I guess so.”

“But you know that isn’t valid, Brook. You’re missing more this way, and Rachelle’s hatred is the reason. Don’t give her that kind of power in your life. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“I know you’re right,” Brook agreed. “Of all the ways we are alike, I wish being able to trust my heart was one of them.”

“It didn’t come easy. I guess I kept thinking of Grammy and how
if she could love me, somebody else could love me too. Then when things didn’t work out with Harry, I knew it was mostly because I didn’t want them to work out. I didn’t want to stay here in Kansas. I didn’t want to be a farmer’s wife. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be someone’s wife. I think you have to look at this aside from Rachelle. Grammy and I love you, and so do the others. I know we’re family and should love each other, but Rachelle should have loved us too. That just shows that the love you have from me and the others is genuine. We could have chosen to hate, just as Rachelle did.”

“I suppose I never thought of it that way. Grammy could have just as easily said no to adopting us. She could have refused to love us because of how Rachelle acted.”

Ashley nodded. The first stars of the evening were just appearing against the darkening sky. She couldn’t help but remember their childhood wishes placed upon the first star of the evening.
I wish true love for Brook
, she thought silently as her gaze fixed on that first star.
I wish love and happiness and contentment for her.

Ashley lowered her gaze and met Brook’s brooding expression. “I found the wishing star,” she said, reaching out to take hold of her sister’s hand. “And I wished for you to find true love.”

Brook grinned. “You aren’t supposed to tell your wish to anyone else.”

“But you aren’t just anyone else; you’re a part of me.”

Brook nodded and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Then that wish is for us both.”

“Supper is nearly ready,” Mattie said, turning to observe Deirdre shredding a carrot stick into a beautifully prepared salad. “Mmm, that looks tasty.”

“I think so too,” Deirdre replied. “I love to add color to food. It sounds silly, but somehow it just looks more appetizing with a few orange flecks.”

Mattie laughed. “Well, we’re visual folk. Why else do you suppose
I spend so much time in the yard?”

Deirdre nodded. “The flower gardens will no doubt be just as glorious as ever. I love the early flowers. They look so sturdy and plush. Crocuses always look as though they can endure anything.”

“They usually can. One of the prettiest sights I ever saw was purple crocuses peeking their heads above a dusting of snow.” Mattie wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Shall we have an evening supper down by the lake?”

“I think that sounds wonderful, but I could go ask the others if you like,” Deirdre said, ever conscious of everyone else’s desires. Mattie had watched her go through life trying hard to keep everyone pleased and happy, always playing mediator when the occasion arose.

“No, if you think it sounds good,” Mattie replied, “then I think it sounds good too. I’ll turn on the gazebo and dock lights.” She went to the back door and flipped a switch. Through the screening of the porch she could make out the shadowy forms of Brook and Ashley on the walkway.

“Looks like Ashley and Brook are already enjoying the evening,” Mattie commented. She went back to the counter and began slicing leftover ham. “This will make great sandwiches.” Deirdre nodded and went to pull condiments out of the refrigerator. “So are you and Dave still planning the trip to Hawaii?” Mattie questioned.

“Yes. That is, if he wins his case. His law firm is deeply embroiled in some sort of big dispute. They are representing a car manufacturer or someone like that. Anyway, Dave has all this responsibility and it’s taking most of his time. But God willing,” Deirdre said, giving Mattie a big smile, “our sixth wedding anniversary will get time too. We plan to fly out the first week of June. Are you sure you still want to watch Morgan?”

“Absolutely! She and I will have as much fun as a great-grandmother and five-year-old can have.”

“She’ll keep you hopping, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll teach her how to plant flowers and weed the garden. Just like I did with you,” Mattie replied.

“And if she tells you that she’s bored, will you make her go pick up rocks in the yard?” Deirdre questioned.

Mattie chuckled. “You can count on it.” Picking up rocks in the yard had been one of her devices of breaking the kids’ habit of commenting on being bored.
“Life has all sorts of things for you to do,”
she would tell them,
“even if it’s nothing more than picking up rocks.”
It usually only took one or two times of that chore to help the girls focus their attention on making their own fun or finding entertainment elsewhere. Of course, sometimes their choices were poorly thought out, but they learned to practice their creativity nevertheless.

“I know Morgan will love it here,” Deirdre said, placing all the condiments on one of Mattie’s trays.

“Will she miss her friends?” Mattie asked, taking out another tray for the ham and chips.

“There aren’t too many other kids nearby. One little girl lives a couple of houses down, but most of the people in our neighborhood are older. I suppose that’s the trouble with living above your means,” Deirdre said with a bit of a laugh. “All our friends are being sensible and living in lower-cost neighborhoods, but Dave and I both wanted something really special.”

“And is that how you feel about what you have?”

Deirdre sobered. “I think so. I love my house. It’s everything I ever dreamed of owning. It’s such a far cry from that two-bedroom cracker box Dave and I lived in after we were first married.”

“I thought that house was charming,” Mattie said, remembering the quaint little ranch-style home.

“Well, charming wasn’t exactly on my list of definitions. But this house is definitely charming and wonderful, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Mattie grinned. “You sound very content.”

“I am,” Deirdre admitted. “Dave has a good job. Morgan is in kindergarten, where she finally has friends to play with. I even go out once a week with my girlfriends and have a bit of fun for myself.”

“Really? What do you do?”

BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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