Calling Me Home

by Julie Kibler

“You’d think the pain of losing someone would go away after a while, but it doesn’t.”

THE HEART IS a demanding tenant; it frequently makes a strong argument against common sense.

Miss Isabelle’s sense of humor was sharp as a needle fresh out of the package. I could only hope I’d be as shrewd when I had nine decades of experience.

when I grasped it, it was all I could do to stand upright with my heart going whoosh whoosh, a wild bird, captured and locked away in a cage smaller than its wingspan.

“A good man,” Miss Isabelle began again. “For starters, he treats you well. But just as important is how he treats everyone else.”

Anyone who thinks a seventeen-year-old is mature enough to always know the difference between a smart choice and a dumbass decision hasn’t been a mother to a seventeen-year-old.

Her cavalier attitude freed me and tied me in knots at the same time.

“I don’t know,” Miss Isabelle said. “Sometimes the good ones surprise you. Sometimes they stick around longer than you’d think—after they should have given up.”

“All you can do is act the way you’d like them to act,” Miss Isabelle said now. “They’ll watch you, and then they’ll make their own decisions. You cross your fingers over your heart and hope to God they make good ones. But you’re not going to let them down, Dorrie. No more than any imperfect mother who loves her children more than she loves herself.”

She was so worried about what the people around us would think, she forgot about … me.”

Emotions flooded me, some directed at Robert, some simply at the situation: relief, shock, joy, fury, skepticism, hope, bitterness. Love. Still love.

“I’m here because I had to see you. I still love you. Every day, every minute, I love you.”

A warning and a plea. “Don’t.”

Never, ever, forget that I loved you. It was always you.

She’s so beautiful. I’ve missed her my whole life.”

“All those years ago, Mother thought us better than anybody else in town, and now look—nobody even tends their graves.”

“I was lucky, you know, Dorrie,” she said, surprising me out of the blue the next day. We’d finally stopped overnight in another generic roadside hotel. We’d been too tired to converse after we’d climbed in the car that morning. “I was loved by two good men.”

Some men are just plain bad news. Then there are good men. They’ll do. Then there are good men you love. If you find one of the last kind, you’d better hang on to him with everything you have.”

“But then I met you, and you stuck with me even when I was cranky and acting like a foolish old woman. God gave me a blessing. He brought me a little piece of the family I’d lost. Through you, Dorrie.”

“Don’t deny me now. Dorrie, you’ve become like a daughter to me.”

“Oh, stop now. You’re embarrassing me. I just love you like you’re my own child, Dorrie. It’s simple and nothing to get excited about. It’s not like I have a pile of money to leave you. I’m probably more trouble than I’m worth.”

“Now, wait. Hear me. I also know you’re still a child in ways. You’re going to do some more dumb things before you’re all grown. But I want you to try to remember that if you’ll include me in the decisions you aren’t sure about, maybe I can help. Yes, they are your decisions, and we may not always agree. In fact, I’m sure we will strongly disagree sometimes. But you don’t have to do this all on your own, son.”

But I supposed she’d put a few cracks in my heart, too, before all was said and done.