Where Petals Fall (25 page)

Days stretched into weeks, weeks into months, and months into almost a full year. Brian and Junie remained apart. Junie enrolled Sarah in a morning drop-in preschool program ten minutes from Ruth’s house, and she and Shane worked out a schedule that suited both of them. Shane stood by Junie, though he was steadfast in his belief that she should consider reconciling with Brian. He reminded her of the connection that they shared and Brian’s ever-present support.
That kind of love doesn’t go away because he lied to you about the death of his sister. He’s tortured himself for all these years. His father forced him into an untenable situation. Junie, he didn’t ask to cover up Ellen’s death, and he didn’t ask to be Peter’s golden boy, but he did ask to be your husband, and he did ask to have a child with you
.

Ruth entered the kitchen dressed in a purple suit and donning a giant red hat.

“Mom, you look ridiculous.”

Ruth glowed. “I love it. It’s been so long since I have done anything even remotely fun. When Mary Margaret suggested that we create the Getty Girls’ Red Hat Society for all of us
older
women in our town, it seemed like it might be fun to try it.”

“And what happened last month when you two went to that other Red Hat Society meeting in the next town over? Did they somehow rope you in, and now you’re a cult follower? Hi, I’m Ruth Nailon, and I’m a widow? Like AA?” Junie listened to her own cattiness. What was going on with her? Was she jealous that her mother could move on and she seemed stuck in the mess of her own crazy life? Junie smoothed the red frosting onto the first layer of the cake she was making and waited for it to set before placing the second, smaller layer on top.

“You’re such a fool. I’d hardly call this a cult, and the support is what I need. Many of the Red Hat women have been through the same thing I’m going through, June. I need this.”

Junie mulled that over. Her mother deserved support, and maybe Junie was having a hard time understanding it because she’d missed out on those supportive relationships throughout the years. Whether she was jealous over her mother’s ability to move forward or her ability to form long-lasting female friendships, jealousy was an ugly cohort. She needed to rein in her misplaced emotions. “I wish there was a support group for people in my position—Wives of Accidental Murderers with Selfish Fathers.”

Ruth touched her arm. “I’m sorry, honey. I know how hard this year has been—for all of us.” She peered over Junie’s shoulder. “Whatcha building?”

“Red Hat cake.” She winked. “I figured that if you were going to do this, you might as well do it right. This is for your…gathering of red hat goddesses. I can’t have my mother showing up empty-handed every month.” She set the second layer on the first, and the image of the hat became apparent.

“That’s lovely!” Ruth said.

The top layer slid to the side. Junie caught it with her spatula. “Yeah, except it doesn’t quite stay atop very well.”

“Well, like life, things aren’t always so—”

“Neat and tidy,” Junie said in tune with her mother.

They chuckled.

“You can say that again.” Junie settled the top layer into the center of the base, plastering it in place with the thick frosting. She squeezed the pastry bag, dipping and lifting, creating little elaborate icing flowers to hold the layer in place.

“Sometimes you just need to figure out the best way to accept what you’ve been given and make it work for you.”

She set the pastry bag down next to the cake and looked at her mother. Gratitude swelled in her heart. “Mom, in case I forget to tell you, you mean the world to me.”

“Oh, Junie, please.”

“Seriously. You teach me something every day. I know I will never be the same mom that you are, but I can strive to be, and I do strive to be, even if I fall short.”

Ruth took her daughter’s hand in her own and said, “You are a marvelous daughter, mother, and yes, even wife. We all do the best we can, June. That’s all we can do in this lifetime.”

When Brian Skyped to say good night to Sarah that evening, Shane’s reminders drew Junie to him:
He didn’t ask to be Peter’s golden boy, but he did ask to be your husband, and he did ask to have a child with you
.

Brian’s face was drawn, and for the first time since she learned about his lies, Junie found herself worrying about him—was he eating right, was he sleeping enough?

“How is she?” he asked.

Brian saw Sarah every weekend, but still Junie gushed over Sarah’s progress. Her accidents had stopped completely, and she was becoming more communicative, even if that particular progress was slow. They’d continued to see Theresa on a weekly basis—for Sarah, not Junie, and it was helping her. Theresa didn’t know what Brian had done, or where Ellen was buried, but she knew that Sarah had found Ellen’s earring and her grandfather’s admonishment was what sent her spiraling into regression and silence. Theresa was giving Junie guidelines on communication, how she should react to Sarah when Junie fears she’s going in the wrong direction, and Junie was thankful for that guidance. Mostly she was thankful for the little changes she’d begun to see with Sarah—a nod here, a whispered,
No
, there. Theresa was slowly bringing Sarah out of her shell. Now that they understood where the issue began, Theresa was able to work with Sarah on rebuilding trust in all of her relationships.

The one thing Junie couldn’t deny was that her daughter missed her father, and Junie wondered if Sarah might progress more quickly in her own home, with both parents present, but she wasn’t ready to take that final leap.

“Junie, I’m sorry for everything. I miss you, and I miss Sarah.”

“We miss you, too,” she said, and realized that she’d meant it. She did miss Brian. The pain of Ellen’s tragedy was slowly subsiding. Junie was able to see more clearly with the hurt pushed aside. She recognized her part in their relationship’s disintegration. “I owe you an apology,” she said. “You were right about Sarah. She did have emotional…baggage that she was dealing with, and I negated you. I’m really sorry.” She was sorry, and the thought of how she disregarded Brian had been weighing on her all afternoon. She felt better having said her peace.

“Then come home.” Brian had the same request every week. He never wavered in his professed love for Junie and Sarah.

It sounded so easy. Pack up their stuff, get in the car, and in an hour and a half, they’d be home. “I’m afraid to. How do I know what else you’ve lied to me about?”

“Junie.” He stared directly into her eyes. “I have never lied to you about anything other than Ellen’s disappearance and the issues that surrounded it. I adore you. You and Sarah are my world.”

Junie flushed.

“Junie, listen to me, please. I thought you remembered everything, and I was going to bring it up when we first started dating, but then I realized that you didn’t remember, and I didn’t want to remind you. I know that was selfish, but I loved you. I do love you. I thought if I brought it back up, you’d never marry me.” He looked down. “I’ll be sorry for that for the rest of my life.”

He was selfish, but so was she. She wished she never remembered and things could go back to the way they were, but that, too, she realized was not how real life worked.

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but each time you brought up Ellen, I was scared.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to lose you. I see now that that was wrong. I should have laid it all out right on the table before we got married and probably before we got serious.”

“No way. You were afraid you’d go to jail.”

“No, I wasn’t. I never was. I knew it was an accident. I didn’t cause her seizure. She slipped and hit her head. I tried to get to her, but by the time I did, it was too late. I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could. I called my dad.”

Junie didn’t want to hear the story again. She knew what happened next. Instead, she asked the question that had loomed in her mind for months. “What will you do now? Will you bury her?” She lowered her voice. “I mean for real?”

Brian shook his head. “No. It’s too painful for my parents. Ellen loved roses, and she’s been there forever at this point. We’ve already had a memorial.”

“You’re afraid of being caught.”

“No, I’m not. I’d scream it from the rooftops if it would bring you home. But what good would it do? It’s not going to bring you home. Think about it, Junie. My dad’s already lost my mom and Ellen. My mom dealt with this years ago, and making it public would only bring her under scrutiny.”

Junie shook her head. “I love you, but I don’t know what the right thing to do is. Hell, I don’t even know if I’d have married you if I’d known.”

Brian sighed. “I know.” His lips curved into a small smile. “Can I take you out Friday night? You know, it’s all on the table now. No more lies. See if you like me. We can start over, well, kind of, anyway. No promises of a future, just two people seeing what might be.”

Junie thought about his offer. She didn’t want Sarah to grow up without a father, and she did love Brian. She just had to move past the past. She shook her head, not knowing if she ever could.

“Yes, I’d like that, but to be honest, I can’t move forward until this whole thing is dealt with properly. I don’t want to live my life, or have Sarah live hers, in fear, wondering if anyone outside our family will ever find out.”

“What are you saying?”

Junie didn’t even know she needed what she was about to ask for until that very moment. Now she knew, and she could never move forward without this step. “You and your father need to come clean. You need to go to the police.”

The silence stretched between them.

“My father—”

Junie didn’t want to argue; she was past that. This is what she needed, and if they couldn’t do it, then she’d never be able to move on with any sort of relationship with Brian, and she wasn’t sure she’d let Sarah, either.

“I don’t care what this does to his career, or yours. This is about doing the right thing, showing Sarah that you are not ashamed. She might not know what happened, but who’s to say she never will? Do you want to live the rest of your life in fear? What if Sarah finds out one day? Then what?”

Brian remained silent.

“Brian, set the example you want her to follow. Fatherhood trumps fear.”

Friday afternoon moved at a snail’s pace. Junie flitted from one room to the next, nervous as a schoolgirl. Brian and Peter had both agreed to go to the police—a step in the right direction.

“Why don’t you go out for a bit and get rid of that nervous energy of yours?” Ruth suggested.

“Where would I go?”

“Let’s all go to the creek. Let’s say goodbye to those bad memories and have our own little goodbye for Ellen. My therapist thought it might do you some good to find closure about Ellen. The creek was my idea.”

Junie put her hand on her hip. “You discuss me with your therapist?”

“Of course. Oh, not the part about what really happened to Ellen, just that Sarah was going through a traumatic time and so are you. I’m your mother. I have a right to get my life back on track, too.” Ruth headed for the stairs, then stopped and turned back toward Junie. “Junie, you do know that even when Sarah is an adult, your worries won’t stop, right? I mean, look at me. You’re an adult mother yourself, and I still have a need to help you in any way I can.”

Junie felt her eyes well, something that had become an all-too-familiar event. “I know, Mom. Thank you.” She watched her mother disappear up the stairs.

Ruth came back down with Sarah in tow.

“Want to go to the creek, sweetie?”

The ringlets on Sarah’s head didn’t bob. Her voice was like a long-missed sweet breeze on a hot summer’s day. “Yes,” she said.

Her voice, that one tiny word, brought a smile to Junie’s lips.

Sarah used her finger to call her mother to her side. Junie was used to this. While Sarah had become more responsive, she preferred to whisper much of what she had to say. Junie bent to listen.

“Yes,” Junie said, shooting a confused, anxious look at her mother. Junie tried to keep the worry out of her voice. “She wants to go see Papa Peter first.”

“Well, then, Papa Peter’s it is.” Ruth nodded.

Walking up the driveway toward Peter’s house brought the moment of impact rushing back to Junie. The hurt of his confession, the anger of what he’d done to Sarah. Junie concentrated on the blacktop beneath her, telling herself to be strong for Sarah. She could do this. It was a conversation, that’s all, and if she and Brian had any chance at all, she needed to mend this particular fence.

They found Peter in the backyard, kneeling in the once again perfectly manicured rose garden. Trowel in hand. The knees of his jeans sat upon fresh mulch. Beside him lay a small yellow rosebush, the roots wrapped in burlap.

His face had tired in the short time since Junie had last seen him. Worry lines ran across his forehead, and his eyelids hung low over puffy, fatigued eyes. He caught Junie’s gaze, held it.

Junie thrust her hands into the pocket of her jeans and looked away. She had no idea what to say, or how to mend this broken fence.

Unflappable Ruth came to her rescue, like always. “Our girl here wanted to see you.” She gave Sarah a nudge forward.

Sarah looked at the garden, then back at Peter. Junie hadn’t explained that Ellen was buried in the garden. She’d decided that there were certain burdens that small children didn’t need to bear, and she’d wished, during recent weeks, that she’d been a small child and spared from the knowledge, too. Sarah had been led to believe that the earring alone would have made her mother and father miss Ellen so much that the sadness would have been a bit too much for them. Junie had clung to that explanation like a life preserver, trying to believe it herself.

Sarah knelt at the edge of the garden, her pink leggings bright against the green grass, bringing Easter to Junie’s mind. She watched her daughter reach for Peter’s hand. Her pulse quickened with anticipation.
Please don’t make this more difficult for her
, June prayed. She hadn’t told Peter what she’d said to Sarah, and she didn’t think she could handle clarifying anything to mar that explanation.

“I’m sorry I dug up the earring,” Sarah whispered.

Peter glanced at Junie, then back to Sarah. He placed his large hand on Sarah’s cheek, then inched closer to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sarah. Papa Peter overreacted. It was me who was sad, and I’m sorry. I never should have asked you to keep a secret, and I will never do it again.” He kept his eyes trained on her.

Junie let out the breath she’d been holding captive. Junie knew that Peter wasn’t faking the honesty in his eyes; no one could. She reached for Ruth’s hand, thankful that her daughter was making her peace.

“Okay,” Sarah said; then she dropped Peter’s hand and stood. “We’re going to say goodbye to Ellen at the creek. Do you want to come? Can we bring some roses?”

Junie’s jaw dropped open. Who was this small child? Recognition moved hesitantly forward within her. A few quick breaths escaped her, the edges of her lips twitching into a smile, then fading quickly into a worried line again. Theresa had said that everyone’s healing process was different, and that it might take days, months, or even years before they saw any marked changes in Sarah.
She must have more of Mom’s strength than mine,
Junie thought.

Ruth squeezed her hand, caught her eye.

The three adults let out a simultaneous laugh. She was back! Sarah was back.

The weight of the past lifted as they drove to the park. Every now and again Sarah whispered a word, “Mommy. Tree. Park,” as if she were testing her voice. Junie listened, unable to speak without tears filling her eyes. Her baby girl had returned. She held her mother’s hand, using it to root herself in reality.
This is real
, she told herself.
My Sarah is coming back
.

They crossed the lawn toward the woods. Her father’s warning echoed in her head.
Only derelicts hang out back there
. Junie bit her lower lip. She could do this, for herself, for Ellen, and even for Brian.
Brian
. Damn, they should have waited for him to arrive. It was okay, she decided. She could always come back with him later, if they were so inclined. Even though Brian had gone there alone to leave flowers on the rock, Junie still worried that coming back, with his family to bear witness, a clear and present acknowledgment to further solidify the truth that befell Ellen, might be too painful for him. That worry lingered in her mind like a beacon, alerting her to her changing tone toward him. She liked the feeling.

Sarah skipped ahead. Junie walked beside Ruth, with Peter behind them.

“Can you believe it? Our girl is back,” Ruth said conspiratorially. 

“I’m afraid to believe it, so we’d better not talk about it.” Junie felt Peter’s hand on her shoulder. She spun around.

Peter’s eyes held hers. “I’m truly sorry, with all of my heart and with every inch of my soul.” He put his hand over his heart. “I never meant to hurt her, Junie. I hope you can forgive me.”

Junie rolled her lips into her mouth to keep from sobbing. She nodded, letting Peter guide her into an embrace.

They stood by the water’s edge, Junie holding Ruth’s hand, Peter’s head bowed, hands clasped before him. The leaves swayed in the breeze, filling the air with a gentle, swooshing rhythm. Sarah walked beneath the long branches, along the rocks, toward the unforgiven tree.

Junie gasped. “Sarah, honey—”

Ruth squeezed her hand. “Let her be.”

Junie bit her lip, sure she’d put a hole right through it.
Okay
, she thought.
I can do this
. “Be careful,” she called to Sarah.

Sarah turned quickly, flashing a bright smile. Junie’s breath caught in her throat.
Ellen
. “Mom,” she managed, just before falling to her knees. The memory came tumbling back in fits and spurts, like an old movie reel.

Ellen taunting Brian. “I’m telling!”

Brian standing on Lovers’ Rock, telling her to shut up.

Ellen pointed at him. “Dad’s gonna kill you!”

Brian lifted a rock.

No, no!
Junie’s mind called out.

His arm drew back, as if in slow motion. Junie flashed to Ellen, whose arms flew up. “No!” she screamed.

Brian’s arm pushed forward. The rock flew from his hands. Junie’s chest would explode. She had to help Ellen. She saw herself moving toward her.

A deep
thunk
stopped her in her tracks. The rock hit the tree, then shot at Ellen with such force that she lost her balance.

No!
Junie silently screamed.

Ellen fell into the water. Her legs kicked up. She was under the water, her arms shot to the sides.

Brian scrambled down from the rock.

Junie’s legs were paralyzed. She watched Brian sprint to Ellen, stumbling over a large root and finally reaching the water. Ellen had floated downstream, her arms out to her sides, her eyes closed, her body unmoving.

“June? Junie?”

Ruth’s voice broke through the memory. Junie fought to remain with Ellen. She wasn’t ready to leave. She could change the outcome. She could save Ellen—scream before Brian threw the rock.

“Call 911,” Ruth shrieked.

Junie lay in a fog.
Don’t call 911
, she said in her mind.
We can save her. We can revive her
, she thought, thinking of Ellen. She felt her fingers move as she came to. She reached for her mother’s arm, grabbing hold so tight that she could feel her bone. Junie scanned the water’s edge, frantically searching for Sarah. She caught sight of her sitting by the water, unaware of the unfolding drama. Junie gasped for breath.

“Should I call?” Peter knelt beside her. “Junie? Are you okay?”

Junie blinked away the fog in her mind. “I saw it. I remember,” she said. “That day. The day.” Junie sat on the ground, her knee aching from the impact of the fall, her heart racing. She looked up at Peter, renewed strength seeping into her limbs. She’d recalled it. She’d actually recalled the moment that Ellen died. Her heart ached, but the relief of the truth pushed that ache aside. “Brian didn’t hit her with the rock. He didn’t do it. It hit the tree.” She reached for her mother’s hand. "He wasn’t lying. I was there. I saw it. The rock hit the tree.”

Her chest heaved up and down with each panting breath. She’d seen Ellen’s final moments. It pained and relieved her. What did Ellen think at the moment when her foot slipped on the wet rock and she tumbled backward, the cool water hitting her back? As she closed her eyes for what would be the final time, did her world go black instantly, or did she have time to wish for something more? Did she hurt, or was there really a light to guide her from her pain? Junie would never know, and that hurt almost as much as losing her best friend did. When the dam broke and her sobs pushed forth, they carried a release so great she felt as if she could see clearly for the first time in years. Memories streamed back—her run back to Katie’s house. The pact they’d made—not to tell anyone what she’d seen.
Katie
.
Oh my God
. She had to see her. She’d held on to the secret for so long, to protect whom? Junie? Brian? Did it matter? No, she decided, it didn’t. For whatever reason, Katie had held their pact as sacred, and Junie owed her her life, or more accurately, her husband’s life.