Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [36]
Maureen smiled up at him and moved into Bill’s waiting arms again. They held onto each other for a few moments more, finding the beginnings of healing. And then Bill went to tell Aubrey of the plans, Maureen to explain to Colleen.
Maureen knocked softly on Colleen’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Colleen, it’s me. I need to speak with you a minute.” She opened the door and peeked in. “Can I come in? I wanted to let you know I’m going away for a few days, to the beach. Just to have some time to think and pray.”
“Oh? Where?” Colleen refused to look at her mom. She concentrated on her doodling efforts as if they were intensely important.
“Sanibel Island. I’d leave on Friday. Come home on Monday.”
Putting her hand up in such a way that it hid her face, Colleen hunched down over her desk. “It won’t be longer than that? You’re sure?”
“Oh, no. It’s just a long weekend. Actually, I’ll take Aubrey with me and you’ll stay here with Daddy. We thought you might enjoy having Daddy all to yourself for a while. Do some fun things together?” Colleen still avoided her mother’s gaze, even though Maureen intentionally leaned down to search her daughter’s face. “Is something the matter, Colleen? Tell me what you’re thinking because—”
In a monotone, Colleen asked, “Are you and Daddy separating?”
“Oh, no … no, Colleen. It’s nothing like that, I promise you.” She reached out to put her fingers under her daughter’s chin and lifted it so she was forced to look up at her.
Colleen’s dark eyes glistened.
“You’re thinking … that what happened to the Estebans … it’s not, sweetie. You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Her voice very small and frail, “I guess so.”
“Actually, I need you to take care of your dad while I’m gone. Will you do that?”
She rolled her eyes, any signs of tenuousness now deliberately hidden. “Like I’m gonna cook stuff,” she scoffed. “We’ll get burgers or pizza every night.”
“If that’s what you two want, then I say go for it.” Maureen hesitated, uncertain, and then deciding not to press, turned to go.
“Mom?”
Maureen leaned against the door, waiting, giving Colleen her full attention. She could hear her breathing erratically.
“Then what were you doing when you were gone tonight?” Her words had come out in a rush, and again she studied her paper under hooded eyes.
Maureen took a deep breath. Fleetingly thought, How honest should I be? “I was walking on the beach, taking some time to just … think. And I was wondering, actually, if—” her voice broke and she stopped to swallow and try to calm her emotions, “—if it would make any difference if I just … didn’t exist anymore.”
Colleen lifted her head, mouth hanging open and pupils dilated in alarm.
“No, it’s not what you’re thinking. I never considered … that … no, Colleen, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have put it that way. But my life seems so,” she closed her eyes, concentrating, struggling to find the right words, “meaningless? No, that’s not the right word. It’s more like I’m in a vacuum. I don’t … I’m not connecting. Yes, that’s closer. I’m not really connecting to your dad. To you. To Aubrey or to God. At least, not in the way I want to.”
Maureen was quiet a moment, pondering. “You know, the more I think about it, the better that describes it. A connector. I realize that’s what I’ve always wanted to be: the one who connects you and Aubrey to the past—your grandparents, and dad and me—and to the future, so you’ll understand what it means to live for Christ. And want to live for Christ.
“Colleen, I’ve struggled so much with my worth that—and I can’t go into … any of that—well, let’s just say I know I haven’t been that connector for you and Aubrey because of how I see myself. My time at the beach this weekend? I intend to figure out how to do that. The way God wants me to. For this family. For you and Aubrey. And I will do whatever I need to do to make that happen.
“You know, it just dawned on me … there’s another way to describe what I’m feeling: It’s like I want to be a bridge—a