Page 19 of When We Were Young
In the inventory of Emily’s childhood, the next piece was the toughest of all. She looked over her shoulder, in case maybe the kitchen lights were on. In case Noah was sitting at the table waiting for her. Ready to change his mind.
He wasn’t.
And since she was more heartsick than tired, Emily let the rest of the story come. The three of them had finally found a rhythm, finally reached a place where Emily didn’t go to sleep each night angry at her father. Clara was still the same. She still talked of their father with fondness. She still hadn’t learned to walk or run or talk like the other kids.
And she was still Emily’s best friend.
Together with their mother they had a beautiful life. Even if Emily didn’t exactly believe in God the way her mama did. Then two months before Emily’s high school graduation, their mother left for a weekend trip to Texas. Her sister lived there, and she’d just moved into a new house.
“I’ll help her set up and be back Monday morning,” their mother told them. The girls were old enough to stay by themselves. Their mom hugged them that Friday before she left and they went to school. “I love you girls so much.” She looked at Emily. “Take Clara to church, okay?” She shifted her smile to Clara. “You love going to church, right?”
“Yes, Mama.” Clara’s words came quickly. More clear than usual. “I love Jesus.”
Emily did as she was asked. Not just to honor her mother, but because Clara truly did love being in church. The sermon that week was about the brevity of life. So short, so uncertain. “You never know when you’ll wake up for the last time,” the pastor told them. “There’s never a guarantee about tomorrow.”
His point was clear. “Be ready,” he told them. “Stay on the narrow path that leads to life.”
Emily thought about that. Was God just a taskmaster? Someone forcing people into acts of obedience under the threat of certain death? A mean boss who stood by while kids like Clara were born broken, an unseen force who hovered nearby while people lived in fear of not waking up one day?
Halfway through the sermon, Emily looked at Clara. She wore a simple smile and every now and then she nodded along. Like she’d never believed so fully in a Bible message as she did that one. And she understood, no doubt. Clara’s difficulties were more physical than cognitive.
But that moment Emily remembered feeling like she was the one with special needs. Because for the life of her, she couldn’t understand God. Or how people could worship Him and serve Him when someone they loved could be gone in the blink of an eye.
It was with those thoughts still in her mind that she came home from school the next day to find her father sitting on the front porch. Emily’s heart fell to the ground. Why was he here? What could’ve made him come?
She wanted to run ahead and ask him. But she wouldn’t go faster than Clara. It wasn’t until they were halfway up the sidewalk that Clara realized their father was sitting there. The sight of him made her stop and after only a few seconds, Clara broke out in a smile. “Daddy! You... home!”
As if he’d only been gone a day or so.
Emily felt anger fill her from head to toe. She didn’t want him here, not for any reason. But even more than the rage she felt, was a fear like she’d never known in all her life.
Why in the world was he here?
Clara leaned into Emily as they made it up the front steps. She hobbled up to their father and stopped close to him. Clara couldn’t hug him, couldn’t release the grip on her crutches. So she kissed his cheek instead. “How you been?”
Their father looked uncomfortable. More than that he seemed upset. “I’m fine, Clara. It’s nice to see you.” He stared at Emily. “Why don’t you get your sister situated inside? I need to talk to you.”
Emily couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Her heart was pounding in her chest, filling her senses. She didn’t want to get Clara situated. She wanted him to leave. But she had no choice. She tried to find her voice. “Clara... come on. Let’s go inside.”
Clara nodded. She grinned at their father once more. “Good... see you!”
“Yes.” Their dad stared at the ground. Like it was too painful to look into Clara’s sweet eyes. When he lifted his head, he couldn’t maintain eye contact with her. “You, too. Good to see you.”
Emily helped her sister into the house and to the kitchen table. Her mind raced. Shouldn’t their mom be home by now? Her flight would’ve gotten in that morning, right? So what was happening? It had been eight years since she’d seen her dad. He hadn’t contacted them even once. So why would he just show up?
And what was that look in his eyes?
Emily set Clara up with a stack of construction paper and some crayons, a glass of water and a plate of apple slices. All Clara’s favorites. Then she got down on Clara’s level. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going outside to talk to Dad for a few minutes.”
Clara didn’t seem alarmed. She picked up the blue crayon and started to draw.
A desperate prayer formed in Emily’s heart in that moment.Whatever this is, let me be strong for Clara. If You’re there, God, get me through this for her. Don’t let her see how scared I am.
The prayer must’ve worked. Emily’s sister was busy coloring in a perfect blue sky. Like she had no idea anything might be wrong, no sense that seeing their father on the front porch was an ominous sign. She stopped and looked up. “Love you, Emily.”
They were words Clara didn’t struggle with. She said them so often, they came out sounding almost normal. Emily smiled at her. “You’re perfect, Clara.”
Her sister grinned. Then she turned back to the crayons.
