by Lori Wick
"You just wait," her mother warned. "Someday when you present me with a grandchild, I'll remind you that it's no big deal-just a baby."
"I think she's doing something," Delancey said, her face looking horrified.
Paul laughed down into Jana's red, scrunched-up features and asked Delancey where she had put the diaper bag.
"You'regoing to do it?" Mackenzie was amazed.
"Did you think your mother did all of it?" His tone was telling. "We had an infant and a 13-month-old. Trust me when I tell you there was plenty of teamwork."
Delancey handed the diaper bag to her father and stood aside while he headed to the bathroom.
"That baby is so cute," Marrell said. "Tempts me to have another."
"You wouldn't really, would you, Mom?" Delancey asked, looking unsure.
"Why would that be so awful?"
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"It wouldn't. I was just curious."
"I think it would be cool," Mackenzie said. "A little brother."
"I would want a girl."
"Should I be told about this?" Paul asked as he returned with a clean baby.
Marrell laughed. "No, the girls are just dreaming."
"About a baby."
"Of course."
Paul smiled. He had a sneaking suspicion that the girls' feelings would change, and he wasn't far wrong. Jana was happy for about an hour before deciding she needed her mother. Shay had pumped some breast milk, but Jana was not used to the bottle and would not be comforted. Marrell walked her and worked to feed her, but it was quite some time before she could get her to eat. The girls had lasted only a few minutes, both disappearing into their rooms and closing their doors.
"We do an activity every month during the summer," Sheila Carver said to Marrell over the phone. "Most schools are out now, or nearly so, and the June activity occurs on the nineteenth. I really think Delancey and Mackenzie would enjoy it."
"I think so too. And their father isn't giving them a choice in the matter. I know you won't have trouble with them, but they're going to be embarrassed and probably keep to themselves. What is the June activity?"
"Marine World Africa USA."
"Oh, we haven't been there in years. I think they'll love it."
"I hope so. I need to tell you, Marrell, they're not the only ones who will be coming who aren't regulars. There are several new families with teens, and I've been calling all of them. The parents are very enthusiastic, and the young people who do come regularly know this is an opportunity to reach out. Your girls are very well liked and welcomed when they come, Marrell."
"They've told me as much, but their hearts still haven't grasped their own need, Sheila, and I'm sure that's the biggest problem."
"We'll keep praying, Marrell. You know that."
"Thanks, Sheila."
"I'll let you go now. Watch the bulletin for more details."
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"All right. We'll probably see you tomorrow at church."
"Okay, bye."
Marrell had no more hung up the phone when she heard a knock on the door. She wondered if the knocking had gone on long, so she rushed to answer. Gene Barlowe, Paul's CO, was standing on the porch.
"Oh, Gene. Come on in. Paul's not here right now, but he should be right back."
Gene stepped into the foyer area, his hat in his hand.
"Are the girls here, Marrell?
"They're playing tennis," she answered.
The CO took a breath. "Marrell, Paul is dead."
Marrell started, shook her head a little, and almost smiled.
"He just ran to the commissary, Gene. He was out of razor blades. He'll be right back."
"There's been an accident. It wasn't his fault. He's gone, Marrell."
This simply couldn't be happening. Marrell refused to believe it. He couldn't be dead; he just couldn't be. She shook her head again.
"I think there's been a mistake, Gene. He just needed to go to the commissary. He wasn't even leaving the base."
She stopped when she saw tears fill his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Marrell began to tremble. Her chest felt so tight that she thought she wouldn't be able to breathe.
"The girls," she gasped. "I need the girls."
"Did you say the tennis courts? I'll get them."
"No, no," Marrell begged him. "I mean, if you call them they'll be afraid that something's wrong. I've got to go."
"Let me, Marrell. I can do it."
"No, no. Just give me a minute, and I'll get them."
Marrell's hand fumbled with the doorknob, so Gene had to open it for her. She made herself walk down the steps and out to the street. She spotted the girls at the tennis courts that sat below street level and cleared her throat in an attempt to call down to them.
"Micki, D.J."
It wasn't loud enough.
"Girls," she tried this time, and Delancey spotted her.
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"Did you call us, Mom?"
"I need you to come in."
"Now?"
Marrell nodded and motioned with her arm, turning away only when she saw they were coming.
Watching her, Gene made himself stay back, knowing she didn't want the girls spotting him. He waited only until she was back on the front walk before taking her arm and leading her inside. He felt the trembling and took her right to the living room sofa. Shock was setting in fast.
The girls came through the front door minutes later, both tall young women, blooming with good health. Gene's heart clenched over the news that would destroy their world. Thinking it was his job, he stood, but he wasn't given time to begin.
"What is it, Mom?" Delancey asked. There was no missing her pallor.
Marrell stared at them and made herself say the words. "Your father is dead."
Mackenzie shook her head much the way Marrell had done. "He just went to the store."
"There was an accident," Marrell began but then looked to Gene. She really didn't know a thing.
"Yes," Gene filled in. "There was nothing Paul could do."
"Where?"
"Right on Old Mason. We don't know what happened yet, except people watching said it was the truck's fault. The driver's door was hit," he said to the widow. "Paul's neck was broken. He died immediately, Marrell."
It still wasn't getting through. She looked up into the faces of her girls. Was her face as pale? Mackenzie and Delancey were both dripping with sweat. Had they been playing that long? Hadn't Paul just left, or had she been on the phone longer than she realized?
"I want to see him."
"I'll arrange it." Gene didn't hesitate. "In fact, I'll use your phone right now."
Marrell nodded. After he left, the girls came closer and sat down. Marrell absently thought she would break if someone touched her.
"Is it true, Mom?" Delancey asked. "Do you believe it?"
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Marrell looked at her. "It is true, honey, but I don't think I believe it yet."
Mackenzie was the first to break down. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Marrell moved close to sit beside her, her arm going around her, but she did not cry. She was too numb. Gene came back into the room.
"I can take you right now, Marrell ... if you want."
She nodded and stood. "Come with me, girls."
They were in Gene's car a moment later, but Marrell didn't remember how she got there. The street, the other houses, the tennis courts-all so familiar, yet Marrell felt as though she'd never seen them before. The girls were just as silent in the rear seat, and suddenly she felt too far from them. She turned to glance back but found she had nothing to say.
Gene stopped the car outside Letterman Hospital. She hadn't been thinking about where they were going, but this surprised her. This made her think that Paul had been brought there for medical attention.
"You did say he died right away, didn't you, Gene?"
"Yes, Marrell, I swear to you."
Gene waited until Ma
rrell made the first move and then climbed from the car. In full shock now and clearly taking their cue from their mother, the girls followed suit. As they went in through the door, Marrell realized she had never been there. She didn't see anyone as she came in, but many people saw her. Word had traveled swiftly, and dozens knew that Paul Bishop was dead.
Gene took them down a few halls and then had them wait for him outside the door marked "Autopsy." Marrell glanced over at Delancey and Mackenzie, but their eyes were closed as they leaned against the wall. Gene was back in a moment, but Marrell hesitated.
"Gene, does he look-" She couldn't say it.
"He looks just as you remember him," Gene assured her.
Marrell's legs and feet didn't feel like her own, but she moved forward mechanically. Partway in she stopped and reached for the girls' hands. They approached the table, vaguely aware that a man in a white smock was backing away.
"Oh, Paul." Marrell's soft voice quivered as she looked down at his still form draped with a white sheet. Her heart told her it couldn't be real, but the evidence was right before her eyes.
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"Oh, Paul," she said again. "Please don't leave us now." The girls were sobbing, each clinging to a different arm, but Marrell could see only her husband's beloved face.
How will I survive this, Lord? How will I carry on? I love him. He's the only man I ever loved and wanted. Please help us. Right now I can't think what we'll do, but You know. Only You know. Help us.
With a trembling hand, she reached forward and brushed the soft brown hair from his brow. His skin was cool. With the girls still clinging to her, Marrell bent over and kissed his forehead and felt herself falling apart. She turned and pulled the girls to her as they sobbed, joining them in their tears.
Gene Barlowe stood in the hall, his head back with agony as he listened to their cries. A family man himself, the thought of his own wife and children in this same situation was almost too much for him. He hated this. Nothing was confirmed, but several reports had come in that the other driver, a young enlisted man, had been drinking. He was still out cold when Gene had left for the Bishops' house. The thought of having to tell Marrell about that made his gut clench.
Inside, Marrell was working to gain some control. The girls were inconsolable, and she had no idea what to do next. What would she say to them? How would she act? What was the best action to take right now? She was still working on it when Mackenzie took the decision from her hands. As she watched, her daughter pulled from her embrace and approached Paul's body.
"I love you, Dad," she cried. "I love you so much. I don't want you to go. I can't live without you."
Delancey joined her sister, and Marrell stood to the side and let them talk.
"I love you, Dad. I love you" was all Delancey could manage.
Marrell let them have their say. Her grandmother's body flashed into her mind. Had it really been less than five months ago? Marrell could hardly deal with it. She felt herself begin to tremble all over again and only barely heard the door behind her. She glanced to see Dr. Peck, one of the base physicians.
"I'm sorry, Marrell," he said softly, his eyes taking in the whole scene.
"Thank you," she replied automatically.
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"I have something for you that might help you sleep in the next few days," he wasted no time in saying. "I'll be in the hall and speak to you when you come out."
"All right."
She waited until the doctor had gone and then moved close to speak to the girls. They were still standing close to their father.
"I don't know how, but we're going to make it." Her voice was soft, but her faith was strong. "We'll get through this with God's help."
"I feel like it's all a bad dream, and I'm going to wake up any minute," Mackenzie admitted.
"I think it might feel that way for a long time." Marrell spoke from experience. She was still not over her grandmother. "I want to see Shay," Marrell went on. "Let's go home so I can call her."
"Are you going to call Grandma Bishop?"
Marrell nodded. "Yes. Allen Post too." Marrell was suddenly overwhelmed. "We'll have to make an appointment with the funeral home."
"Like we did with Great Grandma." Delancey's voice was flat. She had hated that.
"Yes."
Marrell moved close to Paul again, and the girls moved aside some to let her get close. "I'll always love you, Paul Bishop. You were the most wonderful husband any woman could have asked for." She kissed him again and moved away. The girls kissed him as well, which started their tears again. Marrell couldn't stay any longer. Tears and all, she moved them toward the door and out into the hall. Dr. Peck came right to her side and pressed a prescription bottle into her hand.
"These are very mild sleeping pills, Marrell. You could even give them to the girls if you thought it would help."
"Thank you."
"This paper has my number at home. If you need me and can't get me here or at the clinic, don't hesitate to call no matter what time it is."
"All right. Thank you."
He squeezed her hand, spoke briefly to the girls, and moved down the hall.
"Are you ready to go home?" Gene came close to ask.
"Yes."
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"The car is still out front."
"Okay."
The numbness was stealing in again, but Marrell ignored it. All she wanted to do was get home and call Shay. Nothing else mattered right now.
On the ride home Gene told her that Army Relief Services would be calling her the next day and not to worry about anything; he would be there to help. Marrell said little. Her mind was busy going over the people who would need to be informed and how best to go about that.
At the Lacy home they were just talking about what to have for dinner. Jana was on the floor, surrounded by toys she ignored while gnawing on her fist. Oliver answered the phone when it rang.
"Hello."
"Oliver, it's Marrell."
"Hi."
"Oliver, Paul's dead."
"Oh, Marrell, no."
"Yes. He's gone. Can you come? I need to see Shay. Can you bring her?"
"We'll leave right now."
"Okay. I'll see you."
By the time Oliver replaced the phone, Shay was behind him.
"Oliver?" Her voice was frightened.
He turned and stared at her. "That was Marrell. Paul is dead."
Shay's hand flew to her mouth.
"I have to go to her," she gasped.
"Yes. She wants you."
For a full minute, she couldn't think. She put toys in the diaper bag and then realized there were no diapers.
"Maybe I'd better go and let you come with the baby."
"No." Oliver was adamant. "I'll drive you."
As if in a cloud, they worked together to gather the baby's things and headed down to the car. Shay could hardly believe what they were doing. Her last thought as Oliver pulled from the curb was thankfulness that they'd never found a new house. The apartment was just a few minutes' drive from the base.
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Fourteen
The sleeping pills were no help to Marrell becauseshe couldn't bring herself to take any. The girls
were still crying at 10:30, so Marrell had insisted
they each take a pill. Oliver and Shay were still at the house. The
girls had roomed together and given Delancey's room to Oliver,
Shay, and the baby.
From her place by the window, Marrell looked back at the bed. She had lain down for a while, but it felt too lonely and cold. She had such a headache and knew she needed a little something to eat. The bowl on the table had peaches and apples in it, and suddenly a peach with milk and sugar sounded good to her. Not bothering with her robe, she moved to the door. She stopped as soon as it was open. Someone was lying in the hall.
"Marrell?" It was Shay's voice.
"Are you sleeping there?"
"I thought you might need me."
"I'm going to the kitchen."
"Okay." Shay pushed to her feet, picked up her pillow, and followed her friend. "Do you want me to fix you something?"
"I'll get it." Marrell flicked on the light.
Shay sat at the kitchen table and studied her hands where they lay on the top. Marrell brought a knife, bowl, milk, and sugar over and then reached for the fruit bowl and a napkin. Shay watched her as she began to cut.
"Do you want something to drink with that?"
"Ice water sounds good."
Shay rose to get it without comment. Marrell ended up at the sink to rinse the juice from her hands, but she eventually sat back
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down and had a few bites of food. The milk was cold with the combination of sweet peaches, and she felt a little better.
"Do you know what my grandmother told me?" she asked her friend. "She started this study on heaven when she learned of the cancer, and she said there's no need for the sun in heaven. God's glory is that bright."
"And Paul's there."
"Yeah. Oh, Shay, I would never have survived this if he hadn't come to Christ. Think of the peace I have. I know where he is and that I'll see him again."
Shay's throat was too tight to let any words out. She listened to her friend sigh.
"I can't quite figure out what I'm going to do without him. I never thought about having to be on my own. I mean, he was in Germany just a year ago, but I knew he was coming back."
"Oliver and I will be here for you."
Marrell nodded. "Did he get the baby to sleep?"
"Yes. He emptied one of D.J.'s dresser drawers and put it on the floor. Jana thought she was in her crib and fell sound asleep."
Marrell played with her bowl of peaches, no longer hungry. She drank a bit of water, and Shay watched her eyes fill with tears.
"I don't think a week went by that he didn't tell me a new verse he had found." Her voice shook uncontrollably, but she went on. "He was so excited about his study in Romans." Tears made a steady path down her cheeks. "He was the most romantic man I've ever known, Shay. Just the other night he brushed my hair for an hour and then painted my toenails. Did you know he used to do that, paint my toenails?"
"I think the girls mentioned it one time."
"Oh, Shay, what am I going to do?"
Shay moved close, and they clung together and cried. Marrell didn't know when she had felt such pain. There had been no argument as to whether or not Oliver and Shay should stay; Marrell had only been relieved. Oliver had gone home to pick up a few things, and the girls had been glad to have the baby to distract them.