Wisdom Seeds (35 page)

It was the last Valentine letter Jason wrote me. I held it over my heart. Josh needed to read the letter.

Xeroxing the letter was the first thing I did Monday morning. I scribbled a note on the back of the copy before placing it in the envelope:

‘Josh, I know you're angry. I was young and did what I thought was best for both of us. Read this letter from your dad. Please call me, we need to talk. Love you much, Mom.'

Over the next week it was a chore to get up and I
welcomed being busy at school. Everyday I raced home to check the answering machine needing to hear Josh's voice on the other end of the line. Everyday there were no messages.

The phone startled me when it rang Friday evening.

It wasn't Josh, but Sheila's voice was a pleasant surprise. “Hey girl.”

“Hey.” The stress had rendered me lethargic.

“Shae is spending the weekend with Amber. I'll be over around eight.”

“You don't have to do that.” I needed an excuse to maintain my pity and solitude. “What about Doug?”

“The question is what about you? Don't shut me out Dani, I'm here for you.”

“I'm sorry, I uh, I'm going to be terrible company. I should probably be alone.”

“Wrong answer! You don't need to be alone! How long are you going to sit at home waiting by the phone?”

I was silent. At that moment I was willing to wait forever.

“You didn't go to Bible Study on Wednesday and I'll bet you haven't been out of the house except for going to work any day this week!”

“You're right,” I whispered.

“I know I'm right. And I'm not letting you beat yourself up like this anymore.”

“You're supposed to be going over wedding plans with your parents.”

“Dani, right now you need a friend, and I'm all you got. I'll see you in a few.”

She hung up and I tried to make myself laugh. Sheila was fussing and she hated fussing. She was right. I wasn't in this by myself and I needed a friend. I was thankful she was coming.

Sheila picked up a pizza from Vento's. We ate the whole thing and drowned our sorrows in cream soda. As I sat back on the couch like a rat that had eaten too much, Sheila kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the coffee table.

“I talked to Syd this morning,” she began without looking at me. “You'll never guess what she did.”

My heart palpitated as I made eye contact with her. “What did she do?”

“She called Sylvester and asked him to come down so he could meet Josh.”

“Are you serious?” I sat up and looked at Sheila. “Girl, I have to go to North Carolina.”

“No.” Sheila was very matter of fact. “We have to go to North Carolina. I told Syd to let me know when her dad planned to visit them.”

Another week passed and there was no call from Josh. Each of my attempts to call him resulted in my talking to the answering machine that I now regretted buying. My ulcer had emerged in full force. Everything I ate made me feel like my stomach was on fire and my chest was going to explode. I was alternating between Tums and Maalox.

Monday, day sixteen, and still no call and no message from Josh. The one message on my machine was from Sheila. I changed my clothes and was getting comfortable on the couch when the phone rang.

“Did you get my message? Sheila's tone was stern.

I sat up and put my hand on my forehead. I was afraid of any news she had for me. “Sheila, is everything okay?”

“Yeah girl.” She spoke quickly. “We're going to North Carolina Saturday morning. We need to leave about six – Sylvester is meeting the kids for dinner in Raleigh.”

My mind couldn't handle the possibility of
confronting Greg and Josh at the same time. I moaned into the receiver.

“Take a deep breath.” Sheila's voice was calm. “We're going to get this taken care of.”

I promised to call her later that evening. I called Andrea to let her know what was going on and then I called Alicia to see if we could stay with her. She had already talked to Josh and was meeting him at the train station Saturday afternoon.

On Wednesday, Andrea came to get me for Bible Study and I was curled up on the couch unable to move. She took me to the emergency room and I was given a cocktail of Maalox and Lidocain. The doctor sent me home with a prescription for Pepcid. I wanted to call off on Thursday and Friday, but doing something other than staying at home thinking about the mess I created was essential to my mental stability. I contemplated calling my mom, then changed my mind. I wanted to call Isaac, just to hear his voice – I was afraid I would only cry.

Friday was a clerical day so I left early to get ready for our trip to North Carolina. After my overnight bag was packed, I laid down and left a message for Sheila to call me when she got in.

The phone woke me. It was twenty after eight.

“Dani!” I could tell by Sheila's voice that something was wrong. “Dani, get up.”

“What's the matter?” I suddenly had a sick feeling in my stomach. “Sheila, what's the matter?”

“Syd just called. She's at a hospital in Durham.”

“Is she okay? Did something happen to Josh?”

Sheila spoke slowly. “It's not Sydney, it's Sylvester. He was in a car accident.”

“What? He did what?”

“He was in a car accident on 85 and it doesn't look
good.”

“Does Josh know?”

“Yeah.”

My mind raced. “Where's Josh? Was Syd with him when he crashed?”

“Josh is on his way to Raleigh. Syd wasn't with Sylvester. The state troopers found her name and number in his wallet and called her.”

“Is she okay?”

“She's just scared and confused. They told her it didn't look good when they took him to surgery.”

“I'm on my way over.”

Sheila was standing in the door when I pulled into the driveway.

“He's gone.” Sheila announced as I got out of my car.

“What do you mean gone? He's dead?” My mind didn't want to believe I had heard her correctly.

She shook her head yes and Shae began to cry. I held them both and we stood in the doorway and cried together.

The funeral was scheduled for Thursday at eleven o'clock in Harrisburg. Sheila and Shae left on Tuesday to meet Syd and Josh. I didn't leave until Wednesday. There was no need to go to the wake, but I planned to attend the funeral for Josh. Andrea thought it was a horrible idea for me to drive by myself. It was only three hours and I assured her I would be fine.

I packed Josh's navy suit and a pair of his dress shoes not knowing if he had thought of taking something to wear to the funeral. I also took my raincoat and umbrella. It always seemed to rain at funerals.

Sheila's directions to the Crown Plaza were perfect and I arrived before eight o'clock on Wednesday night. Almost four weeks had passed since the last time I had spoken to Josh. Fear gripped me as I walked down the hall to our room. I was relieved and angered when Josh wasn't in the room. His bags were untouched. I called Sheila's room. No answer.

I sat nervously on the bed, staring out the window at the navy blue sky. There was a knock at the door. Tears swelled in my eyes at the anticipation of finally seeing Josh. It was Sheila.

“Hey girl.” Sheila looked tired. “How was the drive?”

“It was okay,” I said hugging her. “Where's Josh?” Sheila sat on the bed. “Now don't get upset.”

“Upset about what?” I was standing in front of her with my arms crossed.

“The kids stayed at the house with Sylvester's
mother.”

“Josh too?”

“All the grandchildren.”

“Josh doesn't know them.”

“He knows them now. And, they obviously knew about him.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. “Josh asked me to bring his clothes to the house in the morning.” She paused. “I said I would.”

I sat on the edge of the bed fighting back tears. “He hates me, doesn't he?”

Sheila's voice was tired. “He doesn't hate you. This is a lot to deal with.”

I didn't know how to respond. The skeletons in the closet were now tormenting me and I had no idea how to make them stop.

“Let me jump in the shower and I'll be back,” Sheila said heading for the door. “I've been in these clothes all day.”

A shower seemed like a good idea. I stood in the shower and cried until my eyes hurt.

The church was only twenty minutes from the hotel. I left early enough to get an aisle seat before the family came in. I needed to make eye contact with Josh. His avoidance was heart wrenching as well as irritating.

The funeral director was hurrying people to get a final view of Greg before the family came in and I declined, going straight to a seat instead. The obituary listed Josh as Joshua Allen Henderson and I was immediately angered. They had no right to pretend he was a member of their family! They did not know him. And his last name was Singleton, not Henderson.

My anger dissipated as the family processional began. I couldn't see many faces because most of their heads
were down. Josh walked with Sheila and the girls. He was too far away for me to grab his arm. Sheila pointed me out and he waved. Then he walked down the aisle with the family and sat on the other side of Sydney. Everyone probably thought Sheila was his mother.

After the family was seated, the funeral director began preparation to close the casket. A thunder of wailing echoed in the church. Josh's head was down and I could tell he was crying. I didn't want him to weep for Greg. I had cried enough tears for both of us after Greg discarded us.

Sheila held her girls close and it appeared she was crying, too. In fact, most of the people attending the funeral were crying. The numerous accolades of what a great person Greg had been were nauseating. I asked God to help me forgive him and not hate him. I wanted Greg to be the scapegoat for the mess I was in even though my secret was the cause of my predicament.

“Please God,” I prayed, “help me to know what to say to Josh. Heal his heart and his hurts. Touch his heart and make him forgive me.”

There was that forgiveness again. I was face to face with being forgiving as I was seeking forgiveness. No other examples were needed – it was clear, too clear.

The pastor concluded the funeral by asking Greg's children to stand. Joshua stood with Sydney and Shae.

“Although your father is no longer here with you, he is here with you,” he said putting his hand over his heart. “Remember him in what you do, in how you act, in how you carry out his legacy. People will remember him when they see you. What will you have them remember?”

The pastor motioned for the children to sit down. Joshua remained standing and I was afraid he would attempt to say something. He had stood in that very same place and received a similar charge when Jason died. Josh sat down
slowly and buried his face in his hands. I cried, too. For Josh, not for Greg. This was the second time I had been unable to comfort him in his grief.

I was one of the last cars in the funeral procession and that was okay. I had no intention of going to the gravesite and didn't want anyone staring at me trying to figure out who I was. As I parked along the dirt road in the cemetery I could hear the singing even with the windows up. I felt numb. ‘If His Eye Is On The Spa-a-a-rrow, then I know, He is watching –o-o-over me' - that was Nana's favorite song. “God,” I sighed, “I don't feel like you're watching me right now and I need you. I can't do this anymore.”

My stomach knotted as my eyes followed Joshua moving through the crowd. He walked to the front row and stood next to the grandmother he had only known for two days. Joshua reached over and held her hand during the prayer.

Staring at the faces of those around the casket, I easily identified Greg's brother – they looked just alike. His sisters resembled their mother. I had avoided all of them at the church. What was there to say?

Joshua stood facing the casket with his back to me. I knew he really didn't hate me, he was just angry. My dad had been right, my secret had come back to haunt me. The whispers in my shadows were now screaming. Joshua had had the best of everything, including memories of a loving father. Jason loved him. Greg left him – and me. The moment felt fanatical. I attempted to get out of the car for air, but the door was too heavy. I let the window down and let myself sink down in the seat.

‘I have planted seeds of wisdom in you.' Nana's words resonated in my head. What had I learned? Life hurts.
I hadn't learned that from wisdom, I learned that from pain. The sparrow had fallen and I wasn't sure God was watching.

“Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,” the undertaker announced in his deep monotone voice.

Joshua picked up a flower and turned to hug Sheila. As he walked toward me I wanted to run to him. I wanted to hold him and tell him how sorry I was for keeping the secret. I needed him to understand that I did what I thought was best. Holding back tears behind my sunglasses I tried to make eye contact as he stood at the car door. Josh deliberately avoided making eye contact with me as he announced, “I'm going to ride back to the church with Ms. Sheila. I'll meet you at the hotel later.”

All I could do was nod my head because I wanted to say, ‘hell no, you're coming with me.' His words were suffocating and I was unable to speak.

Sheila put her hand on the window as it was going up. “It'll be all right.” Her eyes were red and swollen. “I'll call your room later. Gotta go do this family thing right now.”

The funeral procession was backed up and I got stuck at the gate. I regretted having let the silver car get in front of me. My tissues fell on the floor and when I reached down to get them there was a knock on the window.

“Mom, I'm sorry.” Josh was crying uncontrollably. “I'm sorry. This hurts so bad. Why does everyone die?”