Where Yesterday Lives Read Online Free Page B

give me that! Not now. You never even knew him, Mike. You never
tried
to know him. And you certainly didn’t love him. Not enough to take me to his funeral, anyway.” She snorted sarcastically. “I get the worst news of my entire life, and
you
can’t think of anyone but yourself. What’s happened to you, Mike? You’re supposed to be a
Christian
, remember? The spiritual leader of the household?”
    Mike shook his head. “Oh, don’t throw that in my face. Not this time. Besides, I don’t exactly see you rushing to the Bible for comfort.”
    “I’m not talking about comparing my walk with yours. I’m talking about you and me. You’re supposed to love me like Christ loved the church, give up everything for me. But not you, no sir. You won’t even take a week off work for me. What kind of Christian love is that?”
    Mike’s shoulders sagged and he sighed loudly, dramatically.“Ellen, I won’t let you guilt me into going with you to Petoskey when I have work here in Miami. I could meet you down there the day before the funeral, but I can’t possibly get a whole week off with no notice.”
    “Forget it, Mike.” She turned her back to him.
    “Look at me, Ellen,” he demanded.
    She whirled around and put a hand on her hip. “What?”
    “You obviously need time to accept the facts.” Mike’s voice was measured and forced. “Your dad’s dead. Nothing I can do can bring him back. You have family and friends in Petoskey, and you don’t need me tagging along for a week of funeral preparations. I can probably get out there for the funeral. But that’s all. Otherwise the topic’s closed.”
    “Fly out for one day? I need you all week.” Her icy anger melted and she began sobbing softly as she turned away from him again. “Forget it. I don’t want you there.”
    Mike was silent, then his voice came from behind her, cold and hurt. “Fine. I won’t go at all.” He strode across the room, and flung open the door.
    “Jerk!” she shouted, glancing at him over her shoulder so that their eyes met for an angry moment. Then he stepped outside and slammed the door.
    She stood frozen in place, studying the door and relishing the distraction of her renewed anger. At that moment it seemed Mike had always been like this, and she cursed herself for marrying him.
    “Jerk!” She said it louder this time, even though no one was there to hear her.
    She marched across the living room, picked up the telephone, and sat down at the kitchen table. She dialed the
Miami Times
, and in a voice that was almost unrecognizable, she told Ron Barkley that her father had died.
    “I’ll need a week, Ron.”
    “Listen, I’m sorry, Barrett.” Barkley’s voice was soft. “Call us if you need more time.”
    She hung up and dialed the airline, scribbling flight numbers on a pad of paper and making reservations to fly to Detroit without Mike. When she was finished, she folded her arms on the kitchen table, laid her head down, and sobbed until she thought her heart would break.
    Of course she had seen it coming. Her father had heart disease and diabetes, and if high blood pressure and excess weight were any indication, he should have died more than a decade ago. But that didn’t make his death any less painful.
    “So, this is it, huh, Dad?” she whispered, her eyes closed. “Time to say good-bye.”
    She silently summoned a strength she had not known she possessed, one she would certainly have to draw on in the days to come. She would go home and face her four younger siblings, all of whom had been unable to get along for years. She would help her mother pick out a casket and plan a service. Then she would see that her father was buried. She would remember the past, walk through it, relive it, and try her best to put it behind her.
    “God, help me get through it.” But the whispered words felt foreign, as if praying was something she had forgotten how to do.
    She sighed and wiped her eyes. How could he be gone, the father who