by Lynne Gentry
Leona reached down to lift Amy to her feet. “Help me get her to the van, Maxine.”
“Get your hands off me.” Amy’s hands pawed at Leona. Her hands smacked the paint puddle. Splatters nailed Leona’s face and clothes. Amy stared at her paint-covered hands. “I’ve got to get my nails done.”
“Is she delusional?” Maxine asked.
“Yes!” Painting dripping off her nose, Leona captured Amy’s hands.
“Why?”
“Because she’s nineteen weeks pregnant and heading for a diabetic catastrophe.” Leona draped Amy’s arm around her shoulder. “Happy now?”
“She shouldn’t have been painting.”
If her hands hadn’t been full, Leona would have grabbed Maxine by the shoulders and shook her. “Are you going to preach at me or help me?”
“Now you know how it feels to be in trouble.”
“You can say I told you so all the way to the hospital.”
“See why Howard left me?” Maxine draped Amy’s other arm around her neck. “I’m awful.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Try Maddie again,” Leona shouted over the blare of Nola Gay laying on the horn as Bluebird sailed through the red light. Brakes screeched from every direction.
“It’s not my fault your children don’t want to speak to you, Leona.” Maxine tapped Maddie’s number again. “I think Amy just passed out.”
Leona caught Amy’s slumped body and yelled. “Punch it, Nola Gay.”
Minutes later, Nola Gay palmed the horn as they careened under the ER’s portico cache and ground to a jarring halt.
Maxine pounded the van’s sliding door. “Let me out of this death trap.” The second Etta May pried the door open, Maxine jumped out. “Going after help.”
Leona stroked Amy’s damp curls and continued the prayers she’d been sending up on their wild ride. “Lord, l love this sweet girl. Protect her and my grandbaby.”
Maxine returned with two nurses and a gurney. They loaded Amy. As they whisked her away, Leona shouted, “I love you.”
“Come on,” Maxine wrapped her arm around Leona’s shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I can’t leave.”
She inclined her head toward the small bathroom. “I’ll knock on the door if they come back with any news.”
“I didn’t grab my purse. I don’t even have a comb.”
Maxine patted the bag slung over her shoulder. “Good thing I’m your thorn in the flesh.”
Five minutes later, Leona emerged with hair dripping and shirt damp from scrubbing at the splatters, but the terror of losing her daughter-in-law and grandbaby clung to her like dried paint.
Maxine held out a hot cup of vending machine coffee. “The Story girls parked themselves over there.”
Leona gave Maxine her comb. “Any news from David?”
Maxine shook her head and led Leona to an empty chair next to Etta May.
Nola Gay leaned over and patted Leona’s leg. “We’ve been praying our fool heads off, Leona.”
“Want us to fire up the prayer chain?” Etta May asked.
Risking David’s ire over letting their secret out, Leona nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Etta May whipped out her phone and started texting like a pro.
Leona’s phone buzzed. “Maddie. I think Amy’s sugar got off kilter. We’re at the hospital.” She went on to give details as Maddie and Parker jumped in his truck and sped from his small ranch to town. David buzzed in and she switched over. “David. Where are you?”
“I’m with Saul. We’re almost there.” David’s voice cracked. “How are they?”
“We haven’t heard from the doctor.”
“Do we need to Care Flight Amy to Dallas?”
“Maddie’s on her way. Let’s wait for her, okay?”
Fifteen minutes later, David and Maddie hit the emergency room doors at the same time. Maddie was trailed by Parker and David was trailed by Saul. Leona had never been so glad to see someone in her life.
“Update us, Momma,” Maddie said.
“Her sugar is high. Around 600.” Leona caught the flash of concern in Maddie’s eyes. “They’re giving her IV fluids and insulin.”
“Can I see her?” David asked.
“She’s awake and coherent enough to be asking for you.” Leona squeezed his hand and he shot through the swinging doors. She and Maddie immediately embraced. “Tell me they’re going to be alright.”
“I’d feel better if she had a maternal-fetal specialist here.” Maddie realized the obvious observation had not been comforting. “Don’t worry, Momma. It’s good that she’s talking and making sense.”
“Why are they’re keeping her in ICU for a couple of days?” Leona asked.
“Observation. Precaution. It’s a good thing. Want me to go see what I can find out?”
Leona nodded. “I should have insisted she teach me what to do in a sugar crisis. It’s so hard to know when to meddle and when to back off.”
Maddie took her by the shoulders. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but this time your meddling saved Amy’s life.” She hugged Leona then slipped through the swinging doors.
Leona turned to see Saul standing a few feet away. Even though it was Saturday, he was wearing his customary creased suit pants, but no jacket or tie. The sleeves on his white shirt were rolled to the elbow. Sweat rings bled from under his arms and muddy water splats covered his shiny shoes. Obviously, he’d hopped into his boat and sped across the lake. And he’d done it to help her. Empathy swam in his eyes, but he kept a respectful distance.
Resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms, she walked to him and extended her right hand. “Thank you.”
His touch was a piece of solid ground. “Amy going to be alright?”
“She’s feeling a lot better.” Tears sprouted and she collapsed into his arms. “We could have lost them,” she sobbed.
Saul’s arm slid around her waist and held her with the same reassuring strength he’d offered on the night they’d danced on the dock. “But you didn’t.”
She was greedily soaking in the support when someone behind her cleared their throat. A sudden awareness of several pairs of curious eyes caused Leona to push back from Saul’s chest. “You’re right. We didn’t.” A pale swath of Blessed Blue covered Saul’s shoulder. She accepted the pressed handkerchief he offered and dabbed at the mess. “I think I owe you a new shirt.”
Saul glanced at her futile attempts to clean him up and chuckled. “I’ll add it to your bill.”
Maxine cleared her throat again. “It seems the crisis has passed.”
“It does.” Leona hugged her. “Thanks for your help. Maybe the Storys can take you back to your car.”
“How will you get home?” Maxine asked.
“I’m happy to take her,” Saul offered.
“I’ve imposed enough for—”
Saul shut down Leona’s protest. “No imposition at all.”
Maxine smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Levy.” To Leona, she said, “I’ll clean up the mess in the parsonage if you’ll help me clean up the little mess we were discussing earlier.” Her eyes cut between Leona and Saul with a definite talk-to-him message.
Before Leona could protest, Maxine had the Story sisters marching toward the door. She reassured them that she might not be as rich as Leona but she could afford to pay both hers and Leona’s fares.
“Rich?” Etta May said. “Leona’s rich?”
“I guess we gave her the pastor’s discount for nothing,” Nola muttered.
“What was that about?” Saul asked once the ER doors slid shut.
“In a moment of provocation, I may have let it slip about my financial situation.”
“I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Since I was two, I’ve done what everyone wanted me to do. Guess I’ve finally had enough.”
“O
bligation is a heavy burden.” His statement was neither praise nor judgment, but it felt just right. “Have you had dinner?”
“Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Saul turned to Parker. “Can you give Maddie a ride home?”
“You bet.” Parker jumped on the opportunity to spend more time with Maddie with such enthusiasm that Leona wondered if her plan to bring Maddie home was working out after all.
“I should stay.”
Saul’s brow rose. “Should?”
“I want to check on the kids.”
“Take your time.”
When Leona entered her daughter-in-law’s room, she was thrilled to see Amy sitting up and the color back in her cheeks. “And the baby?” she asked.
“Fine.” Maddie pointed to the ultrasound pic up on the screen.
Leona couldn’t contain the tears. “A boy?”
“Little J.D. and his momma are doing great thanks to you, Momma.” David hooked his arm around her shoulder.
“J.D.?” Leona asked.
“The Third.” Amy held out her hand. “You saved our lives.”
Leona’s heart was near bursting. “Need anything?”
“We’re good,” Amy said.
“I think I’ll let you celebrate alone.” Leona started to leave. “Maddie, Parker’s still out there. Should I send him on or do you want him to give you a ride home?”
“I hate to make him hang around when he’s got so much to do to get ready for his move,” Maddie said. “Are the Storys still here?”
Disappointed Maddie’s enthusiasm didn’t match Parker’s, Leona said, “Sent them home.”
“How are you getting home?” David asked.
She stiffened. “Saul’s offered dinner and a ride whenever I’m ready.”
“Great.” David smiled. “But if he offers you a ride in his boat, strap in because that good man drives like a bat out of hell. No wonder Dad liked him.”
Good man? “You know how I am about water.”
“You know how I am about my momma.” That was a close to saying I’m sorry as David was going to come, but it was close enough to send her dancing down the hall.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tater howled at the rattling screen door.
“Hang on, Maddie.” Leona rushed through the living room, tying her robe as she went, and smiling that Maddie and Parker had spent some more time together. “Sorry, I locked you out.” She yanked open the door.
“Hey, LeLe.” Roy leaned on her doorframe. “You wouldn’t happen to have a cup of coffee for a weary traveler?”
“Roy?” Leona gathered the collar on her robe. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”
He slapped his hand against his chest in a dramatic show of hurt. “Not exactly the welcome I was hopin’ for.”
“I’m a little worn out.”
“It was a joke, LeLe.”
“Oh.”
“Can I come in?” He kissed her cheek then pressed past her. His bulk filled the room but not the loneliness she’d felt since Saul dropped her off. “David called and asked if I could come back early and fill the pulpit for him tomorrow. He didn’t say what was wrong, but he sure sounded upset.”
“Amy had a little ... medical crisis today, but everyone’s fine.”
“Everyone?”
She stood there, hand clasping her robe, weighing how much to say and wishing the Lord would give her the best way to say it. “You might as well know. Everyone else does.” Leona headed for the kitchen and flipped on the Keurig.
“Know what?” Roy trailed her.
“Amy’s pregnant.”
Roy’s grin split his tan face. “Well, congratulations, Grandma.”
Leona disliked his twangy version of Grandma almost as much as she disliked being called LeLe. “Amy is going to have a difficult pregnancy. So...”
He pulled out a stool at the table and sat down. “So?”
“So, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your invitation to go to Africa.”
He leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin, like he hadn’t believed her. “LeLe, you know it was more than a foreign excursion I was offering, right?”
Leona retrieved two cups from the cabinet. “I do, Roy.”
His smile disappeared. “Can’t pretend I’m not disappointed.”
She slid a cup under the coffee dispenser and popped in a stout brew pod. “You’re a good man, doing a good work.”
“Just not good enough for you.”
“I didn’t say that, Roy.”
“We don’t have to set off on our new life until after the baby comes, if that’s what’s worryin’ you.”
“They need me.”
Coffee sputtered from the spout, signifying the end of the brewing cycle.
“You know how I feel about you, LeLe. I’m not going to give up. You say you’re worried about your kids, but I think you’re worried you’re not ready to move on.” He raised his palm. “Hear me out. J.D. and Ivy would not want us to quit livin’ just because they’ve gone on to glory.”
“Roy, please.”
“I won’t say any more...for now. I know better than to burn bridges, especially with my support base.”
If he only knew how close he’d come to the truth. “Speaking of contributors ...” Leona set the steaming cup in front of Roy. “I wouldn’t normally divulge church-sensitive information, but I think you deserve a heads up, a chance to round up additional support.”
“Mt. Hope cutting me off?”
“You know I’d never let that happen.”
“Leona, you’re not the pastor’s wife anymore. You can’t guarantee anything.”
Actually she could when it came to his financial support, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself tell him. “You and I both know that life has no guarantees, Roy.”
“What’s really going on here, LeLe? Did something happen while I was gone?” Roy’s chest puffed up. “Did that lawyer fellow make a move on you?”
“Roy, this has nothing to do with me,” Leona said, preferring not to get into her feelings for Saul. “Your support won’t get cut off, but it could be drastically reduced.” Leona stalled, taking time to pop the warm pod out of the machine. She didn’t want to make things worse for Howard and Maxine, but Roy needed time to prepare for the possible financial changes that might be coming to his ministry. Without everyone believing it was Howard dropping the big checks in the plate, it would be harder for her to support Roy’s mission without raising suspicions. “The Davises are having problems.”
The Keurig sputtered in the silence.
“What kind of problems?”
“Marital. It’s been a long time coming.” Leona set the creamer in front of Roy. “I failed to talk Maxine off the ledge today so I have to speak to Howard tomorrow after church.”
“About what?”
“About how we can help.”
“Let me do it, Leona.”
“They’re my friends.” Leona set her cup under the spigot. “I don’t want either of them thinking I’ve been spreading rumors.” She shoved another pod into the coffee maker and brought the lever down hard.
“My support is my business.”
“Roy, this is a very fragile situation. Not only for Howard and Maxine but for the church.” She jammed the brew button. “Mt. Hope Community is just barely getting back on its feet after J.D.’s death.”
“That’s why you don’t need to confront Howard.”
“I’m not going to confront him. I’m going to ask him privately how I can help him.”
“Behave yourself, LeLe. Please.”
“Behave myself?” She pulled her full cup out from the spigot. “I’ve behaved myself for thirty years.”
“Which I’m sure J.D. appreciated.”
Leona froze, both hands wrapped around the boiling coffee. Roy had no idea what J.D. did or did not appreciate about her. But on this he was right. For years, she’d acquiesced for the sake of peace. A
nd where had it gotten her? In this mess.
“If you’re asking me to look the other way while my friends are hurting just because you don’t want anything to ruin your business, then you’ve got another thing coming.” Leona was hotter than the cup of coffee in her hands. “I’m sick of ministry as a business. I’m sick of behaving. And I’m sick and tired of you calling me LeLe.”
“If I’m going to take care of you, then you’re going to have to let me handle this.”
Every fiber in Leona’s body stiffened. “I’ve told you, I can take care of myself.”
“How? Sellin’ newspapers on the corner?”
“I’m rich, Roy. Filthy, stinkin’, more-money-than-you-can-count rich!”
Roy’s facial features hung limp, like she’d took a knife and slashed the wind from his sails. “What do you mean?”
“I mean J.D. made investments that have left me able to finance an entire African mission invasion if that’s what I wanted.”
“You sent the money?”
Hurt and shock were not looks Roy wore well. Realizing her part in dressing him down was a deflating pinprick to her righteous anger. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Few know about the change in my financial status.”
“Your lawyer friend? Does he know?”
She nodded. “Plus the kids. Mother. Roxie.”
“You trust a lawyer and your neighbor, but you can’t trust a man who’s loved you for years.” Roy shoved back from the table. “I think I better go before I say things I will regret.” He stood. “I’ve got a sermon to prepare.”
Long after the slam of the screen door had quieted, Leona sat on the kitchen stool twirling her wedding ring around and around on her finger.
Tater’s nudge to her foot reminded her that the time for dwelling on the past was over. Leona climbed down, dumped her cold coffee in the sink, then went into her bedroom. Looking at the empty bed, she worked her wedding ring over her knuckle, walked to the nightstand, and opened the tackle box. She flipped the latch and lifted the lid. She stared at the empty box. “I’ll always love you, J.D. But you’re not here. And I don’t want a cheap imitation of you.” She gently laid the thin gold band where fish hooks used to be. “Goodbye, my love.” She closed the lid, flipped the latch, and took the box to her closet. She put it next to the sensible brown flats she used to wear to church every Sunday.