Home From Within (39 page)

“I had spent from age eleven until twenty-two taking care of and raising not only myself but also Jim. I never realized that without that anchor, I was like a stormy sea. Plus the memories, all those terrible memories, had no place to go because I kept them sunk real low. But trust me, secrets make you sick.”

Jessica could not help but say, “I know.”

Aunt Lodi turned toward Jessica. “I know you do. But the secrets I’m talking about are the kind that you will do whatever it takes to forget. And that’s what I tried to do. I was everywhere and nowhere for a while, finally ending up in San Francisco during the Summer of Love. I sent Jim letters, staying places long enough to get a response back, but nothing came. I thought he was dead and believed I didn’t have much to live for either.”

For the first time since Jessica and Aunt Lodi became engaged in the story, Aunt Lodi chuckled. “He tracked me down in a friend’s rented room on Haight Street. I thought I got a hold of some bad stuff and kept saying ‘No, you’re not Jim. You’re the devil.’”

Jessica had visions of hippies strewn through the streets of Haight-Ashbury while her father, in fatigues, stormed the place, making the hippies walk around him as he strode down the sidewalk on a mission to save his sister.

“He brought me to Chicago where he set up residence and introduced me to his girlfriend, Katherine. Oh, I wish you could have seen your mother’s face when she set eyes on me. I wore flowers in my hair because I was addicted to that song and felt like flowers were some magical beings that could transform the hate I had for myself into something sweeter, at least to those looking at me from the outside. After smoking too much hash in the apartment and cooking with it, your mother had a fit when she realized she ate one of my ‘special’ brownies. Jim then pushed me into rehab. But I wasn’t an addict; I was suppressing memories of abuse and needed someone to talk to. So that’s what rehab did for me—allowed me a safe place to confront the past without falling into a state of self-induced amnesia.

“I came out of rehab and quickly realized a big city like Chicago made my skin crawl—too many people on top of each other. I could not stand to be in close proximity to anyone but Jim. So, with his blessing, I returned to the UP and set up my life where I live right now. Jim helped me buy the property—he gave me a place to call home.”

Jessica sat motionless while the picture of her father saving Aunt Lodi settled into her head.

“War was not good for your father but at the same time it was. He had all the makings of a killing machine from living here, but I figured better to kill for your country rather than incur a death sentence in Michigan. Sometimes I regretted pushing him into the Army, but that was the best solution I had to offer at the time.”

They sat in silence for a while until Aunt Lodi spoke again. “I think he saved Paul because he saw himself in him, knowing that without me or Mr. Olson, he would have been on that track too.”

Jessica nodded in agreement, and while her head was still absorbing all that was shared, she felt angry for not knowing this information when her father was alive.

“Why didn’t he want me to know all this?” Jessica finally asked.

Aunt Lodi looked past her and toward the charred remains. “He didn’t want to remember it. He surely didn’t want you exposed to it.”

“But it would have explained a lot about why he did certain things. I would have understood him better.”

“Those were his wishes; this is his story.”

“And yours.”

“Yes. We are braided by experience—survival really.”

The sun was fading over the edge of the tree line to the west as a sharp breeze started shaking the vegetation.

“How did you get the horses back?”

“Once I settled up here, Jim came in the winter to help me with some stuff. We started talking about the horses and decided to find them. It took us a week, but we located them on a farm, about twenty minutes from my home. After all those years, I knew they remembered us because Buttercup nuzzled her nose in the nape of my neck like she did when we were together long ago. The owner—her name was Ingrid—said she never saw her do that before. Ingrid’s the one who took the picture of us on that sunny winter day. I made it a point to go there once a week to ride Buttercup, and Ingrid was great about it. The horses passed away when you were a little girl. I don’t think you remember, but we took you to Ingrid’s and you fed them carrot sticks. Your dad lifted you up so you could reach your small hands up to meet their mouths. It was so heartwarming.”

Jessica smiled at the thought of her father holding her in a loving embrace while she met the horse that helped save her father and aunt from such distress.

“Where’s Mr. Olson?”

“He passed many years back, but we always shared time together and your dad would do the same when he was in town. I’m not sure if me or Jim would have turned out this way if Mr. Olson had not helped us.”

Jessica started thinking that the layers of a person could not be defined until you unearthed his or her past. And that while you will never forget the pain, and will be forever changed because of it, you can start living again. Slowly, very slowly, the heaviness Jessica encountered when thinking about her father started lifting away, believing now that her father really tried to be the best dad he could under the circumstances.

“Jessica, I’m ready to go home now,” Aunt Lodi said. “I really do have closure.”

Jessica gave Aunt Lodi a loving smile, which was returned, and she gently turned the ignition to move them forward, leaving the past to only be remembered by the land.

The drive back to Aunt Lodi’s was quiet. Jessica paying attention to the sounds her tires made on different pavements while her mind wandered toward Matt, wondering how he would respond to her letter, and to her father and Aunt Lodi’s past.

When they returned home, Aunt Lodi said she was going to take a shower and would love some hot tea. Jessica blended chamomile and rose petals together and poured hot water into a large mug, placing it on the end table in the living room, along with the TV remotes and burning sage. They sat together on the couch watching a comedy, just like the old days, but this time Aunt Lodi was cradled under Jessica’s outstretched arm.

C
hapter
30

Jessica was thankful for the daylight hours because it distracted her from endless thoughts and gave her time to prepare for Marilee’s visit. It was Marilee’s spring break from school, and she would arrive on Wednesday and leave Saturday. Jessica was so excited about having her best friend back in her life. Although their relationship was different now—Jessica felt more in control of her decisions, unlike in high school, and believed Marilee got that message when she was home dealing with her father’s death and Paul. But Jessica was clear on how much she missed having a girlfriend, one in which she could confide in about everything. While Jean was a good friend, their age difference made Jessica sometimes feel like her daughter.

As Marilee drove up Aunt Lodi’s driveway, Jessica ran out to greet her.

“Oh, Jess, this is so beautiful,” Marilee said after getting out of the car and looking around as the trees moved to the song of the breeze.

“I know. I wish you could see the farm—it’s even more breathtaking.”

Marilee cocked her head to the side and gave a faint smile. “Any news on that front?”

“No,” Jessica said, turning to look in the distance. “I sent him the letter and CD but nothing yet. I think we’re going on a week. Don’t you think that’s a really long time not to talk to someone? I know I was completely wrong, but to cut me out like this feels like a punishment.”

Marilee nodded. “Have you thought about driving out there?”

“Yes,” Jessica said quickly. “But then I get cold feet. What if he kicks me off the property? Or if his family’s there, I would feel so embarrassed.”

“I could go with you.”

Jessica felt an inch taller with those words. “Maybe. Let me think about it.”

Once Marilee unpacked and got settled into the room Jessica’s father would occupy on his visits, they drove to town so Marilee could see the sights: two blocks of independent businesses and a marina. It was creeping up on dinnertime, so they grabbed a bite in a quaint restaurant—an old Victorian home that overlooked Lake Michigan. During dinner, they shared equally about the past, the missed years, and the present, barely pausing to eat or drink.

After dinner, the girls walked through the historic downtown district which ran parallel to the marina, and Jessica introduced Marilee to many of the business owners. Marilee halted in front of Murphy’s Pub.

“Look. They have karaoke tomorrow night. Oh, we have to go,” Marilee said.

Jessica felt uneasy, recalling the last time she had been there.

“What? Why do you have that look on your face?”

“It’s just the last time I was here I drank too much and said lots of things I shouldn’t have,” Jessica said.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that. I have heard and seen it all,” Marilee said, laughing as she put her arm over Jessica’s shoulders. “You’re in good hands with me.”

Jessica couldn’t help but believe Marilee’s assurances, finally relenting on karaoke and Marilee’s idea of inviting Jean and Aunt Lodi to join in the festivities too.

“It’s always a good time when you have a bunch of ladies singing off pitch,” Marilee stated.

Jessica made the calls as she drove them back to Aunt Lodi’s. She also, at Marilee’s prodding, called Matt, leaving a message on his voice mail stating she hoped he got her letter and CD and that she missed him so bad her heart ached daily. Her last words on the voice mail were asking for the gift of forgiveness.

Marilee’s eyes filled with tears when Jessica hung up. “That was beautiful.”

Right before pulling off the county road and onto Aunt Lodi’s property, Jessica’s phone rang. It was Paulina, asking again when she was coming home. It was easy to switch the subject, telling her Marilee was in town and they would discuss it when she left. After a few moments, Jessica handed the phone to Marilee.

“Paulina wants to say hi.”

After some brief chatter, Marilee hung up. “So we have a riding date with your daughter tomorrow, on the farm.”

“What?” Jessica said, slamming the brakes of her truck on Aunt Lodi’s driveway.

“I couldn’t say no. That would look suspicious. She asked for us to be there at three o’clock.”

“Us?
”

“What could I say?”

“Maybe that you’re allergic to horses. Something. How do you expect me to show my face when Matt has left me in silence?”

Out of Jessica’s periphery, she could see Marilee looking at her. “Can you drop me off and I’ll say you had to go back to Lodi, then see if Paulina can give me a ride back?”

A stern look is what Jessica gave Marilee before opening the car door.

“Fine. I’ll drop you off and then have Paulina bring you back. But she cannot stay at Aunt Lodi’s since we’re going to Murphy’s, and Aunt Lodi is supposed to be in bed.”

“I’ll handle everything. Don’t worry, okay, everything will work out.” Marilee smiled.

The next day, the girls decided to drive two hours to hike to a cluster of waterfalls in Wisconsin. It was a gorgeous spring day, with the temperature hovering above sixty-eight degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Marilee continued to marvel at nature, commenting on the way the pine trees grew, looking through the rows of tree trunks into the cave of the woods. Jessica gave a lesson on the trees that grew in the UP. She pointed out the differences between the red, white, and jack pines and identified most hardwoods, such as the paper birch, sugar maple, and ironwood.

“How do you know all this?” Marilee asked.

“When you live with a farmer and nature lover, you tend to pick up on things, even when you’re not paying attention.”

Backpacks loaded with food and other supplies, the girls trekked their way upriver with Jessica pointing out the cottonwood, silver maple, and box elder trees that loved living by the water. Jessica ran her hand across the bark of the cottonwood, looking up at the buds just forming. The leaves each year on these trees were almost like friends.

“I love trees,” Jessica stated to Marilee. “It’s strange, but I always felt a connection to them. Even when I lived in Chicago, I always felt the trees were looking out for me.”