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Authors: Emily Sue Harvey

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BOOK: Unto These Hills
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How I learned so much so quickly is still a mystery. I learned that forgiveness is the most marvelous gift we can give anyone. So is unconditional love. So are our time and energies. And mercy and compassion….

There, I died to bitterness. How could I not? Because I know that each experience of my life took me on an odyssey that brought me right here to where I stand, whole.

Complete.
My life’s purpose is now crystal-clear. It’s to love unconditionally. All else of value springs from it.

One morning, I forgot to lock my front door after I went outside to watch the sunrise. Back inside, in the midst of a rousing dance, a voice startled me. “Sunny, what you doing?”

From the doorway, Francine gaped at me, a look on her face I’d never seen before. A mixture of shock and awe. I began to laugh. It bubbled and spilled over and I ran to her and threw my arms around her.

“I’m doing battle,” I informed her, twirling my golden tinseled Lion-of-Judah tabret around me. “In old Israel, the dancers and musicians led armies into battle, disarming the enemies.”

Hands on hips, Francine declared baldly, “That’s the purdiest thing I ever saw. I wanna do it.”

And so, Francine joined me, her dancing vigorous and uninhibited while mine was graceful and joyful. I found that I didn’t consider her an intrusion. There was room for both of us and plenty of love to go around.

She started going to church with me, one in an adjoining village that was a mite unorthodox and invited dancing in their worship. Emaline was okay with me going elsewhere as long as I popped in at the Methodist Church services often.

I ordered Francine a tabret and she was ecstatic.

~~~~~

Francine and I were scheduled to dance in an upcoming musical drama,
The Beauty of His Holiness
. I had a solo dance.

Rehearsals took place each Sunday morning before the eleven o’clock service.

“Sunny,” Emaline asked me one day “If you could write an ending to the story of your relationship with your Mama, how would you write it?”

With no forethought, I said, “I’d find her.” I felt tears spring forth. “I’d love her,” I sobbed. “A-and I’d apologize for being so ashamed of her.” My response surprised even me. And I realized how much I meant it.

~~~~~

I suppose it was a given that Emaline would eventually happen up on Francine and me in the Tryst Room. She did one sunny day when we were kicking up our heels and whooping with joy. Emaline dashed home and came back with her own tabret. If anybody’d heard us, they’d have sicced the law on us.

As it was, it was a prelude to a more complex, dark interim of my healing.

~~~~~

The novelty of the Tryst Room soon wound down for Francine. I figured she’d learned what she needed, was all. Then Emaline got busy with Bible school and other church functions. I don’t know whether their gradual exodus contributed to what happened next or not. I doubt it. But one morning, I got up and the bottom fell out.

First, Lee Roy called early with the latest gossip before I laid the phone off the hook. “They done gone and sold that land up ‘air where the Scout hut is,” he divulged.

I closed my eyes. Pain, like a sword, slashed through me.
My beautiful oasis.

“Who bought it?” I asked, my heart tripping into an erratic cadence. Outsiders had been buying up village properties. I shuddered to think what would spring forth from the changes.

“Dunno,” he drawled. “ I know’d you always liked that land, though.”

“Yeh,” I murmured, my heart breaking. “I did.
Do.”

In the Tryst Room, I began to weep. And weep. And sob. A lifetime of losses paraded before me, reminding me of the times I’d not been able to grieve…Mama and Daddy’s abandonment…the rape…the terrible shame…Daniel’s desertion…Nana’s death…Sheila’s death…Walter’s deception…Doretha’s betrayal…Daniel’s last rejection…my ‘promised land’
sold
. I grieved for each in turn. For several days, I remained in the room, alone yet keenly aware of the astonishing presence.

The miracle was that I didn’t reach for the denial button. Every time I started to, that presence said, “no.” Just that.
No
. So I didn’t. That same voice said, “ Pain is love’s companion. You must be willing to feel pain. Only then will you love completely and only then will you truly appreciate pleasure when you experience it.”

Hey! It made sense. So I embraced it.

~~~~~

One blot hindered my total healing.
Muffin.
And it was the most agonizing pain of all. I wept for days on end, till my eyes felt permanently puffy and my chest grew sore from sobbing heaves. In the end, I discovered that the greatest lesson of all is trust.

“Emaline,” I said one night as we shared coffee in my den, “in a situation such as mine and Muffin’s, I simply have to trust that it will work out in the end.”

Emaline looked troubled for a moment, then, “It’s not right that she holds you accountable for your less-than-perfect marriage. After all, Walter tricked — Oh, well,” she blinked away the darkness, sighed heavily, and continued. “All that’s water under the bridge. Except — she needs to know you for who you really are. She’s missing out on so much not letting herself love you like she should. She also needs the benefit of your love and wisdom.”

I tucked my leg under me. “Y’know, if the Maker wants her to have a change of heart, He’ll see to it. That much I know. In the meantime, I’m just gonna sit back and watch.” I smiled, nearly purring, anticipation rising up in me again for the first time in days. “It’s so exciting, Emaline. Through all these recent dark days of grief, I still felt this comforting feeling. I’m whole again.” I shook my head in wonder as my lips slid into a wide smile, one I seemed to be wearing perpetually of late.

Not for the first time, I wished Mama could see her Sunny alive and full of happiness again. She always said she’d named me Sunny because of my big ol’ smile, one from birth. Said my first smile appeared at three weeks, one that evolved into bubbling laughter that brought tears to her eyes. “I knew then you’d be my li’l ol’ blessing in life,” she’d said more than once.

Suddenly, Emaline giggled. A full, rolling belly laugh. From the old days. “I declare, Sunny. I do believe it’s catching, what you’ve got. I feel like jumping up from here and doing a jig.”

I leaped up and dashed to the CD player. “Just what I was waiting to hear!”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Downstairs in the little church, the cast of
The Beauty of His Holiness
milled quietly, reverently, adjusting costumes and saying little. I checked the sash of my dance costume, an ankle-length, modest white gown with a full, flowing skirt and simple ruffled neck and sleeves. When it flared, long white pantaloons assured modesty at all times. It was one of those simple designs that’s more attractive worn than on the rack.

My platinum hair, short and lightly waved about my face, needed no confinement. Softly applied makeup brought out the color in my face. I held my tabret, meditating.

Emaline had promised she and John would be there for the performance. What a lifeline she’d been in recent days. As well as Francine, who paced nervously nearby and I knew she ached for a cigarette. She was trying to quit but stressful times, such as this performance, brought out her craving.

Martin had recently begun to attend church with her and was in the audience upstairs. I smiled, remembering her saying he was the only one whose presence tonight rattled her.

“Just focus on joy, Francine, like we do in the Tryst Room,” I’d told her.

Suddenly, it was time. I climbed the stairs and stood at the back of the darkened auditorium, waiting for the scene to end and mine to begin. I didn’t look at the people; I looked upward and began to commune. I moved to the platform, mounted it and stood barefoot center stage, in the spotlight.

When the music began, I felt the wonderful presence wrap and lift me to another plane, where my bare feet took wing and I spun and twirled and leaped, tabret sparkling and shimmering, and the little girl in me preened for a Father who wouldn’t leave her. Near the song’s end, I passed my tabret to a younger woman dancer who entered the scene, a symbolic gesture of passing our love and mantle on to those coming behind us on this road called life.

I exited the platform as she danced. I moved to the back of the auditorium and there, turned to watch the rest of the performance. My gaze swept the audience.

Libby and Kara sat on the front row, wiping their eyes. They’d left Scott behind in Summerville, as usual, to see to business. Next to them sat Emaline and John. And Martin. Then there were Gracie and Jared and their dates.

And Sheila’s daughters. I smiled, feeling warmed and very loved. Further over sat Aunt Tina, Doretha, Alvin, Tammy and — I leaned to see who the man was.

My heart nearly leaped from my chest.
Daniel.

Just then, the scene ended. Francine’s spot came next. She was one of six female dancers.
Daniel, my God.
Once she was on stage, she harnessed her nervous energy and danced like she had it for breakfast every day of the week. I choked up, watching her, thinking how she’d changed so much in recent months. Thinking how none are beyond rescue.

In the grand finale, the call to all nations, I took my place with the others, amongst flags from many countries and colorful costumes denoting all races and nationalities. I glimpsed Daniel.

He watched me intently, features unreadable. I turned my face away, concentrating on the sign language we used along with the song’s lyrics. To the music, we filed from the platform, down the aisles, and out the exit to the downstairs.

“How’d I do?” Francine’s icy fingers gripped my hands.

“You did wonderful.” We hugged hugely. “ I know Martin is proud of you.”

The rumble of feet above our heads announced the drama ended. Presently, the fellowship room, in which we stood, began to fill. Folks meandered to and through the refreshment line and filled their plates with catered food.

“Hungry?” asked Francine.

“No.” I was too keyed up after sighting Daniel.
Daniel, Daniel, Daniel….

Since the resurgence of my emotions, I had no more control over them than over a runaway freight train.
That’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happens is supposed to happen.

And then, I looked up and there he was, standing so close I could see the shimmer of his sea-mist eyes and the tiny white flecks of hair at his temples.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” I said, and felt the corners of my lips curving up, wider and wider.

His hand slipped into mine. “C’mon.” He tugged and I followed.

Outside, April air washed over me, deliciously fresh and mild. At his car, a new red BMW, I paused for him to open the passenger door. “Where we going?”

“Nuh uh. It’s a secret.” He pulled a scarf from the dash and said, “Turn around; I’m going to blindfold you.”

“What?” But even as I spoke, I eagerly turned my head for him. I’d have laid my head on the guillotine, so complete was my trust in him. He gently but firmly tied the scarf in place, covering my eyes.

I giggled. Yeh. I really did. Letting go of the child in me was becoming second nature. Excitement had me going. The car purred away from the church and I relaxed. His hand found mine, strong fingers laced with mine

“Daniel, when did you get this new car? I mean — it’s awfully expensive, isn’t it?”

A rich laugh tumbled from him, one that rippled over me and left my skin tingling. “Sunny, this car is just the beginning. I’ve made some good investments in the past twenty years. Real good. It’s time to start enjoying success.”

“I-I’m glad for you, Daniel. I always told you success would find you.” He was silent for long moments.

“Y’know what I was reminded of tonight, Sunny?” he said, emotion husking his voice. “I saw my Sunny up there dancing, the little girl I met and fell in love with. I’ve never been so proud of anybody in all my life.”

My breath caught on a sob. Tears moistened the scarf and I snuffled, feeling his hand disconnect and then reconnect to press a handkerchief into my palm. “I’m sorry for being so weepy, Daniel, but I didn’t cry for so long and then I prayed to find my emotions and tears again and —”

“Shh. Anything you do is okay with me, honey. Everything about you is beautiful.”

The car slowed then, veering sharply left off the paved road. It rolled several yards, then stopped. Quietness hummed all about, crickets chirruped. Curiosity churned.

“Can I take it off now?” I asked.

He untied the knot and it fell from my eyes.

I blinked and peered at the shimmery sight. “
Oh my God, Daniel!”
The two-story house was lit up like a castle amid the trees and stone walks. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then I saw it — on the upper corner, silhouetted against the star-studded, navy velvet sky; the ancient Scout Hut. I put my hands to my cheeks and began to weep. “I can’t believe what my eyes see,” I rasped between sobs.

I craned my neck and looked again. It wasn’t a dream. It was real.


You
bought the land! How did —?” I peered at him through a fog of tears.

“I did it these past weeks while you were laid up with your broken foot. I wanted it to be a surprise. I worked every waking hour to get it done. “

“Daniel, why —”

“I promised you,” he whispered, lifting my chin with his fingertip. “Remember?”

I nodded slowly. Did I dare hope? “But — for me?”

“Yeh,” he drawled in a deep way that was incredibly sexy. “But I had ulterior motives.”

“Yeh?” I whispered.

“Yeh. I want to live here, too. Think that’ll be okay?”

I burst into laughter. “Better than okay, you silly boy!”

Then he pulled a tiny box from his pocket and flipped it open. Inside sparkled a huge diamond ring…and then he was slipping it on my finger, murmuring, “This is another promise filled.”

He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “That makes it official. We’ve gotta get married as soon as possible. We’ve lost a lot of time. Besides, we don’t want folks talkin’, do we?”

Then I was in his arms, lips tangling and meshing and I swear, I couldn’t have cared less what folks thought.

~~~~~

The wedding was scheduled at the Methodist Church with John presiding. Libby was my matron of honor. I wanted to invite Muffin to flank my other side, but knowing her feelings for both Daniel and me, I refrained. My other attendants were Kara, Gracie, Francine and Emaline, who also sang our favorite love songs. One was
A Time for Us.

Daniel’s attendants were Lee Roy, who looked quite spiffy in his black tuxedo, brother-in-law Scott, Alvin, and Charlie Brown, a building contractor friend who’d helped fulfill Daniel’s long-ago promise to me that I would have an
oasis
house of my own.

Just before I left home earlier, Lee Roy leaned stiffly to whisper in my ear, “I don’t look
too
stupid with my hair in a pony-tail, do I?” He looked so distressed I gurgled with laughter, recalling how he’d balked at Daniel harnessing the Bozo bush with a rubber band at the scrawny nape.

“You look as handsome as Antonio Banderas, Lee Roy. You might just start a fad amongst these mill hill men.” He blushed a little and moved on, obviously placated.

“I never told you how beautiful you were when you danced that night,” Emaline said, adjusting my white veil, the one I’d planned to wear for my scheduled wedding years back. Cousin Wayne’s wife had told me to keep it; she didn’t plan on ever getting in a wedding gown again. Somehow, I’d kept it packed carefully all these years, along with the dress I’d made. With all the recent morning dancing, I’d thinned down to my girlish, firm size six. The dress fit perfectly.

“You looked like a little girl up there on that platform, dancing your heart out. But today, I must say, Sunny, you outshine even her.” She hugged me and I couldn’t stop smiling. My mouth just seemed to have a mind of its own and stretched from ear to ear.

A soft knock at the door reminded me that time drew near when my dream would happen. The door opened slowly and she stepped through it, looking uncertain.

“Muffin!” I started toward her, then stopped, beyond uncertain.

“Mama, I’d like to be your — bridesmaid. If you’ll have me.” Tears brightened her eyes as she stood there, shuffling her feet and squeezing her hands together.

I laughed and went to her and wrapped her in my arms. “Of course you can be my bridesmaid, Muffin. This is where you belong.”

She slid her arms around me and squeezed, burying her face in the crook of my neck, weeping. “Oh, Mama, I’m so sorry for all the junk I’ve put you through. I know what happened to you — know how Daddy tricked you, the whole thing.”

I stiffened — then pushed her back till I could see her face. “Who told you?”

She shook her head. “Don’ matter, Mama. I know.”

I angled her a fierce look. “Doretha?”

Another shake of her blonde head. “I’m not sayin’.

I glared at Emaline, whose face had gone inordinately composed and innocent. She said nothing. “Did you tell ‘er?” I demanded, angry.

“Mama!” Muffin took me by the shoulders and forced me to look at her. “Read my lips. I — never — reveal — my — sources. The important thing is, I
know.
I’m still working through a lot of it. But I figured out one thing real fast: you got a rotten deal.”

Her lips wobbled but she managed to continue. “And you managed to forgive Daddy.” She swiped a cheek with her hand. “And I just hope you’ll be able to forgive
me
for all those years of crap.” She bit her lips and I saw her hands tremble as she gripped them together.

She snuffled and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know I don’t d-deserve it.”

I gathered her in my arms, close. “It’s called mercy,” I whispered. “And it’s free. You’re forgiven.”

She peered at me, eyes watery and red. “Jus’ like that?”

I smiled. “Jus’ like that.”

Her smile was wobbly. “I’ll make it up to you, Mama. I promise.”

“You just did.”

~~~~~

Seemed Muffin had confided in Libby about the whole situation. Libby, being Libby, had consoled her sister and handled the whole thing with courageous aplomb, and had insisted Muffin join the wedding party.

Me? I was ecstatic. It completed me.
Fini.

By mutual agreement, we vowed to not discuss the Walter-subject outside our close circle who
knew.

“The evil Walter was gone, The one who undoubtedly
did
carry on with Sheila. I’m just sorry I can’t apologize to her for not believing her,” I told Daniel later that evening, as we lounged in our new living room that smelled of sweet pine floors, new lumber and fresh paint.

Candles flickered all over, painting Daniel’s features dangerous and dear. My head lay in his lap and his fingers worked slow, gentle magic on my neck, shoulders, and bosom, turning me boneless and lethargic and simmery. “The new Walter was a truly good man. The one I want to remember.”

“Me, too,” he murmured.

“Daniel,” I licked my lips and the way his gaze settled there, I feared I wouldn’t have time to say it, “you gave me back my life. You brought my senses into play again. For years, they’ve been dead. I thought my life was over. Virtually. That the sexual me was finished. You, and only you, resurrected that part of me.”

His dangerous look intensified, thrilling me anew. “I think its time we take advantage of that resurrection, don’t you,” he said hoarsely.

Before you could say scat we were upstairs in bed. Funny thing…we spent long minutes simply looking at each other. When I tried to hide stretch marks spread like spider webs over my abdomen, Daniel pushed my hands aside and kissed them, his lips gentle as butterfly wings. “Everything about you is beautiful, Sunny,” he said, the words like a solemn prayer.

“You, too,” I whispered as he gathered me to him, flesh to flesh, heart to heart, soul to soul.


A new beginning.” His eyes plundered the depths of mine.

My smile faded. “A late start.” I reached up to brush his lips with my fingertip. “Think we’ll have enough time to catch up?”

He flashed me an endearing lop-sided grin that took me back thirty years. “I dunno, Sunny. But I’m sure gonna give it all I’ve got.” His lips brushed mine. “How about you?”

I didn’t have time to answer before his wonderful mouth claimed mine, but I didn’t have to.

BOOK: Unto These Hills
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