Wrong Turns

By Linda Sutherland Porter

About the Book
The bittersweetness of the life and times of Lydia Bryan is a disarmingly honest narrative of a woman’s experiences in extraordinary times. Her observations and practicality are usually at odds with her knowledge and involvement in her various experiences during her life. But that never stops her from forging ahead into uncharted and formidable waters.
Lydia acquires new understanding and skills as she creates and shapes the unlikely chapters of her life and loves. Her distinct outlook on nature, relationships, and the human condition transports her through many troublesome times. But she never loses her faith in the essentials and the process of human existence. Lydia’s many life lessons are documented as a lively participant and her authentic and genuine intuition is always at the core of her complex experiences. Perfect for fans of women’s fiction, this masterfully told tale will pull you in from the beginning.

About the Author
Linda Sutherland Porter has been writing off and on for years. She now writes several columns for a women’s magazine with a monthly circulation. She decided that it was time to write a book and so she did. Her interest in the environment, nature, and animals has taken her to many exceptional locales. She still loves to travel, and her heart is always on the Oregon Coast. She lives at home with her husband, Todd, two Airedales, and two very spoiled cats. She has started work on her second novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RoseDog Books
• Release date: Apr 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887298412

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The contents of this work, including, but not limited to, the accuracy of events, people, and places depicted; opinions expressed; permission to use previously published materials included; and any advice given or actions advocated are solely the responsibility of the author, who assumes all liability for said work and indemnifies the publisher against any claims stemming from publication of the work.

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2023 by Linda Sutherland Porter

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher.

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The Ocean

Lydia could hear the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below as she drifted in and out of consciousness. The hypnotic, repetitive sound of the waves rolling in and out of the surf lulled her into a state of dreaminess. She smiled smugly as she drifted knowing that she was completely at peace with herself and everything around her. The vastness and rhythm of the Pacific Ocean was her place of inspiration and supplied a depth that filled her mind, body, and soul. It was the one concrete, steady talisman that had always been a guiding part of her life. The wildness and the haunting beauty of the ocean had pulled her back to it again and again for years and renewed her in a way that was inexplainable.  

The hammock that she was gently rocking in had been a birthday present from her daughter, which had been the result of keen observation on her daughter’s part. When she gave it to her, the delight on Lydia’s face was at once evident. Anything that gave her an excuse to be outside on her porch close to the ocean was indeed a gift. It had taken many years for Lydia to become a permanent resident of her beloved fishing village on the coast of Oregon, but it had been worth every misstep and mistake. She knew with all her being that she was where she should be at this time of her life. She felt so alive and connected to her little cottage overlooking the ocean that it was if she had lived there in another life.  

As she continued to be lulled by the waves and enveloped in a feeling of safeness that only the ocean could provide her, she thought back to the beginning and what had brought her to this point of contentment. It had been a long journey and not always a pleasant one. As hard as she tried and as much energy as she put into her life, she had always felt misplaced. Seemingly at the wrong place at the wrong time and it had taken many years to realize that she was always at the place she had chosen to be. She closed her eyes tightly and thought back to where she had been.

Lydia

Lydia Louise had an extremely happy and idyllic first few years. Her Mother and Father adored each other and it was reflected in everything that they did. Her parents had met in upstate New York and they had a whirlwind romance. Her Mother was eighteen and her Father was thirty-seven. Although there was a significant age gap, you would never know by their actions. Lydia could remember crawling out of bed after bedtime and watching in awe and wonder as the two of them danced in the living room, cheek to cheek with candles flickering around them.

Even at her young age she distinctly understood that they were in love, and those memories would always stay in the back of her mind for safekeeping. And she clearly remembered the day they told her she was going to have a baby brother or sister. She was giddy with excitement and she clapped and danced around the house. But two days later, her beloved Father was dead from a heart attack and the happiness was shattered. Her Father had been a two pack a day smoker and had always eaten badly and never exercised. In those days no one knew what a deadly combination that was. And so Lydia and her Mother boarded a train with her Father’s body in tow and headed to upstate New York where her parent’s families lived.

Her Father’s family owned the local funeral home and that is where they had her Father’s funeral. It was winter in New York, almost Christmas, and Lydia had never seen snow since they lived in San Antonio, Texas. She was fascinated with the beauty of the trees and frozen ponds and she thought she had never seen anything more beautiful. She was too little to comprehend the funeral and its implications. But she was keenly and sadly aware that her Father was gone.

Five months later her Mother gave birth to a premature baby boy. Lydia was completely enamored with the little bald creature with piercing blue eyes named Ray. She instantly became her Mother’s attentive helper and the three of them made their way through the next year as best as they could.

As it happened her Mother’s best friend had an idea to set up her Mother with a friend of their family. They all went square dancing and had a marvelous time. Within six months her Mother and Will were married and within another year they had a baby girl and named her Katrina. She was the apple of her father’s eye and he doted on her. But he also was extremely fond of Lydia and Ray and they grew into a typical American family. As time passed, Lydia learned to appreciate how much her stepfather loved her Mother and provided for them all. It was an idyllic time in her life. Several years later they moved to Omaha so her stepfather could start a new job and they could start a new chapter in their lives.

When they got to Omaha Lydia was distressed at how dead everything looked. It was mid-March and the landscape was a combination of mud and dead looking trees. Ugh, she thought, why is our Father moving us here? They moved into a duplex and Lydia and Ray started a new school. Of course all of her classmates made fun of her Texas drawl, so naturally she made every effort to hide the fact that she had one.

Years later she would realize that she should not have done that, but at the time she just wanted to be accepted. Her Father had gotten a job as an airplane pilot and they would be more economically stable. And Lydia was more comfortable calling her stepfather Dad. The years flew by and life became routine. She took dancing lessons and became quite a talented dancer. And she was a little bit obsessed with it. The feeling that she got when she was dancing was nothing like anything she had ever experienced and she was hooked.

It was the early seventies, and the world was an overly dramatic, frightening, confusing, place to be. Lydia was soon to be a junior in high school and kept up with the latest news and current events with an almost addictive fascination. As she muddled through her childhood years, disturbing events had been occurring. John Kennedy had been killed in the state of Texas where she grew up. Martin Luther King had been killed and then finally and heartbreakingly so had Bobby Kennedy. There were sit-ins and protests, and people were touting the value of free love and women were considering burning their bras. Lydia, while contemplating the significance of these events was also dealing with failing her chemistry class, an unrequited crush on a football player and the occasional, ill-timed acne break out.

By some miracle of the gods, she had made the pep squad. At tryouts she had been so sure of failure that it had given her an air of confidence that appealed to the judges, and she made it by acting like she did not really want it. Early on she learned not to care too much about things that she wanted to attain, because the odds were not in her favor, or at least that had been what she convinced herself. But her love of dance gave her quite an advantage over many other girls trying out. She was such a natural and when she danced nothing else existed but her grace and talent. In her mind she was just a few years away from a career as a dancer. She just had not figured out the details yet.

Dancing was her happy place. She had started lessons when she was three and she fell completely under the spell of it. She loved every minute of it and could not get enough of the exhilaration she felt when she was swaying and moving to music. She became one with the music and her body moved and undulated with every beat. She thought of nothing else when she was dancing. She had no problems and she would float with the music as she glided across the floor. It came as no surprise that she was exceptionally good at what she did. She was a natural. Her Mother would tell her often that she was born to dance.

Her home life was non-inspiring. She had three younger siblings and she had been put into the position of caretaker at a young age. She had one sister Katrina who was a gentle soul who always was kind and brought joy to everyone around her. She was their father’s favorite, and his eyes would light up whenever she entered a room. Katrina turned out to be very artistic and it served her well. Lydia had two brothers: Ray and Kevin. Ray was a ball of fire and practically would bounce off the walls on a regular basis because he was so full of energy.

It was not until years later that they realized he had ADHD, but alas he made his way through life with excellent aplomb and confidence and was quite the ladies-man. Her youngest brother Kevin was so much younger than her that she really did not have much of a connection to him. Her father traveled continually and therefore her mother was left to deal with the everyday monotony of housework and young children’s care. Her Mother did not seem to relish the role she had been dealt and was more than happy to let Lydia take over when she came home from school.

Lydia always felt like her mother resented having to make all the decisions and take care of everything while her husband flew off to exotic locales. Never mind that the reality was that they were not particularly exotic locales. In her mind they were, and she was trapped at home with four children and no career. It was still the golden age of mothers staying home and raising a family. And although her mother seemed to like the idea of it, the truth was her mother felt she was destined for bigger things and always had a slight sadness about her. It was as if she had resigned herself to her predictable life but would always be wondering about those exotic locales and what it would be like to visit them and what it would have been like if she had a life.

So, Lydia witnessed early on what the monotony of housework and childcare obligations did to your self-esteem, and she secretly vowed never to be in that unenviable position when she became an adult. The problem with that theory was that part of her also bought the entire marry and live happily ever after fairy tale. She was conflicted on many levels as a child and as she grew into a young adult, she fared no better.  

Lydia remembered the summer before her junior year with total clarity. She had matured that summer and finally had breasts and gotten her period. She believed that she was probably the last girl in her class to get her period and certainly the last girl to need a bra. She also quickly learned that there was nothing charming or inspiring about having your period. But nevertheless, she blossomed that summer, and she was not even aware that boys looked at her completely differently when she came back to school in the fall.

She was aware however that the football player that she had always adored from afar started waiting for her at her locker and walking her to her classes. She was so thrilled that he had finally acknowledged her existence. When she saw him waiting for her, she felt a bizarre giddiness that was a new experience for her. She could not stop grinning and would practice for hours in front of her mirror on what she would say to him. Martin was every high school girls dream. He was handsome, a football star, and wildly popular. And nothing was more important in high school than being popular. It really did not matter if you were very intelligent or nice, it just mattered that you were admired from afar by the other students.

Lydia at first had a hard time understanding this, since she was not particularly popular. She was not the cutest girl, nor was she the smartest, and for sure she did not think she was very interesting. But she was crazy about Martin, so it did not really matter. She could not believe that he actually liked her. Lydia was so sincerely smitten with Martin that she began to ignore her studies and became obsessed with talking to him on the phone and meeting him between classes. He became the center of her universe and thus began the start of her total immersion into womanhood, or what she perceived to be womanhood.

She started wearing make-up, after much arguing with her mother and started planning her wardrobe for each day a week in advance. She listened to romantic music and learned all the words to songs about broken hearts and being in love. She wrote in a journal about Martin and her feelings for him. She continued to dance but no longer with the abandon that had once seasoned her performances. She was more concerned with whether Martin would call, if her parents would need the phone that night, cutting their call short, and if they would have a date on Friday night after the football game. In her mind she had finally attained what she thought she should have, a popular, handsome, semi-smart, boyfriend. What more could a girl ask for really?

As it turned out, there was much more that she could have asked for. As spring approached in her junior year, Lydia realized that she would have a date to the prom. She would have her mother make her a one-of-a-kind, dazzling dress and Martin would get her a fragrant corsage, and they would dance the night away. It would be magical. Martin was one of the most popular boys in her school and girls would be swooning over them as a couple.

The very thought of the prom made Lydia almost giddy with anticipation. She thought she would die before the prom actually came to fruition.  But. somehow with no warning Martin’s affections waned and he was no longer interested in attending the prom or walking Lydia to her classes. Years later Lydia would think about this and realize that was her first experience with ghosting.

They were officially no longer a couple. For the life of her, Lydia could make no sense of the reason, but she knew with complete assuredness that they were over. And there would be no prom in her immediate future. She went over things in her mind meticulously for days. Beating herself up over something that she may have done or said, replaying everything in her mind over and over. She could come to no conclusion or closure as they called it now. She was convinced it had been something lacking in her character or the pimples that had broken out around her chin and nose the week he seemed to have lost interest. It could not have had anything to do with the fact that he was extremely superficial and an egotist, could it?

Lydia was morose and heartbroken. She lay for hours on her bed listening to sad love songs by the Beatles and wondered if she would ever have another boyfriend. At the height of her depressive state, she was convinced that the immenseness of her character flaws would render her a sad old maid who would be forever in love with the elusive Martin.  

But time passed, and her senior year loomed in front of her. Slowly she became herself again and began to throw herself back into dancing. Her high school was having a talent show and she decided that she would be in it. She took it upon herself to register for the show, pick out her music, and practice her routine. The night of the talent show came, and she was decidedly calm about the event. When they announced her name, she came onto the stage and did a flawless dance routine. There was enthusiastic applause, and this fed directly into Lydia’s determination to be a professional dancer.

After school she would come home and go directly to the basement to practice her dancing. She raced through her homework to dance and stretch. Her father had put a ballet barre up in the basement for her and that cemented her will for perfection.  She would select her music based solely on instinct and somehow it was always exactly right.

One Friday night when she was a senior, some friends persuaded her to get out of the house with them and go to a dance. She reluctantly agreed to go and that was the night she met Harley. Harley was a college boy from Lincoln in town for the weekend. He had grown up in a small town called Baxter on a farm. He had two younger brothers and they were all good looking and talented. Harley was five years older than Lydia.

He had his sights set on being an architect and she loved his determination. He had goals and a plan. All Lydia had at the time was an intense desire to graduate high school. He was handsome, charming, a great dancer, and sparks flew. He teased her relentlessly all evening, but in such a delightful manner that she was enchanted almost at once. They danced and talked the night away.

When the night was at an end, Harley took her jacket (which unfortunately in reality was her mother’s jacket) telling her that he was going to keep it, so she would have to see him again. And see him she did. Every weekend he came home and every weekend they were with each other. They went to movies, dancing, went for walks and had robust make-out sessions. Oh, the make-out sessions! They were filled with young lust and desire and the local drive-in movie provided the perfect backdrop for their passion.

Harley was of course a very hormone charged college student and Lydia was reluctant to resist his advances. The back seat of Harley’s car provided many nights of groping and panting and when one particularly passionate night, they went too far, Lydia was filled with guilt and remorse. Honestly, she did not know what all the fuss was about regarding sex. It hurt like hell, and she was too nervous to even think about the fact that she was losing her virginity. And it seemed to be over before it even started. If it was possible, Lydia felt guilt and disappointment at the same time.

Only loose and fast girls went all the way with their boyfriends, and everyone knew what people thought about girls that did just that. And suddenly she was one of them. And to make the loss of her virginity even more horrifying, Harley seemed to change his intenseness, once they were back in the front seat with their disheveled apparel back in its proper place. In fact, he seemed distant and somewhat cool towards her.

On the drive back to her house, no one spoke. The enormity of what they had just done still fresh in their minds.  When they arrived in the driveway, he brushed a kiss past her face and said he would call her. He mentioned nothing about the following weekend and plans that they might have (which he had always done in the past), and quietly drove away.

……………………………

Lydia parted the drapes and looked out the window. Time had seemed to stand still since the incident. She peered down both sides of the street in anticipation but there was no car in sight. Specifically, there was no car belonging to Harley in sight. He had called her the day before and wanted to know if he could come and talk to her about something important. She willingly agreed hoping that it was for a romantic reason but knowing in her heart that something was off. The guilt she was still grappling with was like a dark knot in her stomach that grew more carnivorous with each passing day. It had been ten days since they had gone all the way in the back seat of his Chevy, and she had not seen him since that night.

She knew if she could just look into his eyes, she would know how he really felt and what was on his mind. Seriously, she thought I have no idea what is on his mind or how he feels. The coldness and withdrawal had continued even though he had called her several times from college. But the conversations were stilted and somewhat forced, so her ability to judge his feelings were too skewed with guilt and confusion to even be rational.

Her parents had gone out for the evening and her siblings were in bed, hopefully asleep. Why did I have sex with him, why? It hurt, and it was over so quickly I am not even sure what happened. This is what everyone is so excited about? Why, indeed, had she been a willing participant in such an emotional rollercoaster?

She heard his car pull into the driveway and she flew down the stairs to meet him at the door. He greeted her with a solemn look and strode into the living room. He turned gently but with determination and took her two hands. "Lydia, I have grown very fond of you since I have known you. I wish things could be different, but I feel that because of what we did, I have lost respect for you and that we should no longer