Where Yesterday Lives (23 page)

He reached down, picked up a week-old copy of the
Petoskey Times
and flipped to the Lifestyles section. There, sprawled across the top of the page, was an article about his company.

“Sadler’s personal touch is the best thing to happen to windows and doors since the discovery of wood,” the article stated. That explained the high number of orders he was getting. A person couldn’t pay for that kind of advertising. Odds were good he’d reap the rewards for weeks to come. Jake studied the news clipping, remembering how it had been at the beginning. Sadler Custom Windows and Doors had been born in the early 1980s, after construction in Northern Michigan had slowed and often left Jake unemployed. Quick research told him that thousands of homes were nearly thirty years old and in need of renovation. Especially the custom homes that lined the shores of Harbor Springs, Petoskey, and Charlevoix. He tinkered around with several French and Victorian designs and finally launched his own business. Thereafter, his company supplied custom windows and doors specifically for those homes.

That was six years ago and now his business had grown beyond anything he had imagined. It brought him a hefty six-figure income and required him to employ three additional men.

Jake lived like a man who knew the definition of success.
He owned a large split-level home in Harbor Pointe, a premier, gated community situated on the northern peninsula of Little Traverse Bay Technically the home was in Harbor Springs, but through windows of his own design he could gaze across the bay at the shores of Petoskey The city limits were barely twenty minutes away.

He had a new boat, a new truck, a self-employed pension plan. Even before the article in the
Times
, his business had been thriving, gaining notice throughout Northern Michigan.

Still, Jake was restless, vaguely dissatisfied with life. He was busy at work and sometimes went out socially, but there was no one special. There hadn’t been since Ellen Barrett.

“The business needs me,” he told the women who had come and gone over the years. But he knew that wasn’t completely true. Every now and then when he’d walk through his neighborhood or relax on his back deck, staring at the bay, he would think about Ellen…and wonder.

Tonight was one of those times.

John Barrett had died that past Friday. Jake heard the news hours later from his high school friend, Andy Conover. Andy worked as a technician in the hospital emergency room and was on duty the day John Barrett had suffered his heart attack. When a nurse mentioned the patient’s last name, Andy became curious. He called Jake as soon as he got home.

“What was Ellen’s dad’s name?”

“Ellen Barrett?”

“Yes, what was her dad’s name?”

“John. John Barrett.” Jake was struck by the urgency in Andy’s voice. “Why?”

“Oh, man, I thought so. We had him in ER today.” Andy paused. “Jake, he’s dead. Massive heart attack. Guy didn’t have a chance.”

The news hit Jake hard, and he hadn’t stopped thinking of Ellen since. Certainly she would come out for her dad’s funeral. She was probably already in town. She and Jane and the other Barretts.

Jake took a swig of his drink and wondered if there were still problems between Ellen and Jane. Back when he and Ellen were together it seemed he was constantly acting as referee for the sisters. In the end they had always worked things out, but Jake’s last year with Ellen had been one of the worst.

That year Jane and Ellen had shared an apartment a few miles from their parents’ house. It was 1988 and Troy was not yet back in Jane’s life. Somehow, Ellen managed to look back on that year as a happy one. Jake remembered differently.

Jane was forever upset with Ellen for leaving dirty dishes in the sink or piling the trash so it overflowed. Ellen often forgot to tidy the living area and was, in general, a poor housekeeper. She planned too many activities for too short a time and inevitably her house was the first thing to suffer.

Ellen’s messy habits had not been a problem outside of home. But as a roommate, Ellen’s messiness was wearisome and Jake thought Jane had every right to express her concern. What bothered Jake back then was Jane’s tone of voice when she spoke to Ellen. Jake would listen between the lines and what he heard was a lifetime of hate and resentment there.

The strangest part of all was that somewhere behind intricate layers of unexplained bitterness, the sisters really did love each other. Jake was sure of it.

He drew a deep breath and set down his drink on the varnished maple coffee table. Ellen. It had been years since he’d seen her but he had never stopped thinking of her. Her memory was so real he could almost touch her.

You blew it
, he told himself.
You let her go and now you’ll
spend a lifetime regretting it
. He sighed and reached for the remote control just as the telephone rang.

He reached out to lift the receiver. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?” Still nothing.

He was about to hang up when a familiar voice said, “Jake? It’s me. Ellen.”

Jake sat up straight, his eyes wide, his heart suddenly beating faster. “Ellen…how are you?”

“Well, not too good, really” He thought he heard tears in her voice. “My dad died…last Friday”

“I know. Andy was at the hospital. Andy Conover. He called me that night.” She didn’t say anything, but he heard her sniffing. “Ellen, hey, are you crying?”

She still didn’t answer. Memories of her flooded over him, of her tender heart, her love for her father. This had to be killing her.

He tried again. “Where’s your husband? Isn’t he there?”

She released a single sob. “No. He didn’t come.”

“You’re not doing well. I can tell.”

There was no response. Only the muffled sound of Ellen’s cries. Jake stabbed his fingers absently through his hair. Her crying made him ache, made him willing to do anything to take the hurt away. “What can I do, Ellen? Tell me.”

She sniffed loudly and regained control of her voice. “I…I don’t know. I mean, that’s why I called. Everything’s kind of crazy around here and…well, I guess…Could you come over and pick me up? Take me somewhere so we could talk?”

“Sure.” He looked at his watch: eight-thirty. “Let me change clothes and I’ll be there at nine. Okay?”

“Okay I’ll be out front.”

He hung up slowly, then sat there, staring at the phone,
dazed
. Had that just happened? Had Ellen just called him?

He exhaled a long, slow breath. Yes, it had happened. And he knew, as clearly as he knew anything in his life, that Ellen needed him. And he would be there for her.

Ellen hung up the phone and stared at her wedding ring. What in the world was she doing making plans to spend an evening with Jake Sadler? She didn’t know…and right now she didn’t care. She needed someone…someone to listen, to care. She left her parents’ bedroom and headed for the front door.

“Where are you going?” Her mother looked at her, surprised.

“Out.”

“You didn’t eat and you don’t have a car. There’s nowhere you can go on foot at this hour of the night, Ellen. It wouldn’t be safe.”

Ellen released a short laugh. “At this point anything would be safer than here.”

“Ellen, please—” Mom began, but Ellen stopped her.

“No. I called an old girlfriend.” Why
am I lying? Why not just tell the truth? I’m not going to do anything wrong, for heaven’s sake!
But she couldn’t tell them. She didn’t want to deal with their reaction if she did. “She’s picking me up and we’re going for a drive. I’ll have her drop me off at Megan’s apartment later on. Don’t worry about me.”

“What about the funeral service? We didn’t figure out about the eulogy Whether you five kids will each read something.” Clearly Mom was tired and frustrated. She wanted them to stay together until the plans were finished.

“Whatever you decide is fine with me.” Ellen walked outside and shut the door behind her.

She was dressed in denim shorts and a white T-shirt, and suddenly she felt six years younger than her age. She found a place on the cool grass and sat down to wait for Jake. Then she tried not to think about how she’d done that very thing at least a hundred times before, long ago, when life had seemed so much simpler.

So much happier.

Inside the Barrett home, Jane heard the front door close and looked up from her dinner.

“Who was that?”

“Ellen. She’s going out with a friend. She’ll meet you and Megan back at the apartment later.”

“That’s nice.” Jane had really tried to be more civil since Ellen had told them about the miscarriages, but she couldn’t keep the tinge of sarcasm from her voice. “Shouldn’t she be here? We haven’t finished working out the funeral plans.”

Their mother shrugged. “She said she’d go along with whatever we decided. I think she needs time away.”

“Well, then, let’s decide whether or not we’re going to write separate eulogies and read them at the funeral. I think we should do it because it’s something Mom wants.”

Jane looked around the table, waiting for a response.

“Well?” she said when they were silent.

“I don’t like it, but I’ll do it,” Amy said finally. “Mom, it doesn’t matter if it’s short, does it?”

“No. Make it as long or short as you like.”

Aaron shook his head. “I can’t write something like that, Mom. You know how I am.”

“I’m not asking you to write an essay, Aaron. Just a few words about your father and what you’ll miss the most.”

Aaron was quiet a moment and Jane wondered if he might actually cry He nodded abruptly, then rose from the table. “Fine. I’ll try.”

Megan wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I already said I liked the idea.”

“And Ellen said she’d do whatever we wanted, so I guess that settles it. Right, Mom?” Jane looked at her mother expectantly

“Seems like it. You’ll have to let Ellen know tonight. Other than that, I think we’re about done.”

“I’m going to bed,” Aaron announced.

“So early?” The disappointment was evident in Mom’s creased forehead, in her pained expression.

“Yes.” Aaron’s voice was defensive. “I need to work on what I’m going to say. Is that all right with you?”

True to form, Mom backed down. “Sure, honey. I’m sorry. We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

The others finished their dinner and gathered in the den to watch television. Since that didn’t interest her, Jane borrowed Megan’s car and set out to relieve Aunt Mary of her children. As she walked across the front yard she passed Ellen. She said nothing to her then or ten minutes later when she returned with the children in tow.

What Ellen had told her had struck deep. Had it been any other person, any friend, who had shared such a struggle, Jane would have known what to say, what to do. But this was Ellen. And with Ellen, Jane simply didn’t know any way other than anger.

Silence seemed the greatest kindness she could extend.

Ellen watched Jane as she left the house, then returned later with her children. Twice Jane walked right past where she sat
waiting. Both times she hadn’t even looked her way, hadn’t said a word.

Even strangers say hello
.

She stared down the street, disgusted, hurt. Why had she even bothered to tell Jane anything? Why had she thought it would make a difference? They were sisters, but that didn’t seem to matter. They couldn’t even get along in the wake of their father’s death. No, nothing mattered between her and Jane anymore. Nothing but the anger.

Ellen looked at her watch and saw that she had fifteen minutes until Jake would be there.
Forget Jane. Think about something else
.

For a moment, her thoughts drifted to Mike, but she shut that down. The last thing she needed after the unceasing doses of Jane’s anger was to think about her fights and struggles with Mike.

She looked up at the sky, closed her eyes wearily, and let her mind wander….

What would Jake look like after so many years? Would he still have that same smile, the one that had always warmed her all the way through? Would his eyes still sparkle? Did he still have that deep and unrestrained laughter?

Stop!
Her conscience jabbed at her, and she sighed. It was wrong to think about him that way. She had loved him, truly she had. But that was another time. He was coming to meet her as a friend. Nothing more. And that’s all she wanted. A friend. Wasn’t it?

She sighed softly. At that moment she was too tired, too weak not to miss Jake and the way life had been when they were together. Back then everything had seemed so…right. Her father was well, she and her sisters got along, and she hadn’t a care in the world. Everything about those years was peppered with Jake’s presence.

Finally, like dear, long-lost friends, the memories came flooding back—and Ellen entertained them willingly She ignored that still, small voice warning her to take every thought captive for Christ, and she drifted back to a breezy afternoon at Petoskey High School.

The day she first set eyes on Jake Sadler.

I
t was the fall of Ellen’s sophomore year in high school, and cheerleading practice had just started. That afternoon Ellen and her best friend, Leslie Maple, were working out with the squad in the physical education area when Stacy Wheatley appeared fifty yards away with a boy Ellen had never seen before.

“Isn’t Stacy supposed to be practicing?” Leslie asked quietly Their cheerleading coach, Mrs. Black, was a stickler for punctuality; Stacy was already ten minutes late.

Ellen ignored Leslie’s comment. She was too busy staring at the boy to answer. “Who’s
that
?”

Leslie squinted across the field, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

The boy was tall, with dark brown hair cut close to his head. He wore only his athletic shorts, and his tanned and toned stomach was attracting the attention of several cheerleaders. He looked like he belonged on a tropical island as he teased and flirted with Stacy.

“I think that’s Jake Sadler,” Leslie said after a moment. “He’s new”

“Freshman?”

“Yep. Came from the middle school across town.”