“Okay.”
How about that? An answer. “Rejoice in small things.” Where had that come from?
She had set both their plates on the table when Christi walked through the door. “Coffee or hot chocolate?”
“Both with cream.” Christi sat down at the table. She ate quickly, keeping an eye on the time.
Nora waited, hoping for a return to normalcy, but then she reminded herself that Christi had never been the talkative one in the morning. Charlie was the whistler, a “greet the day with a smile” kind of guy. She ate her omelet in silence, eyeing the stack of journal, Bible and devotional in whose company she used to greet the day. Each day she turned away. There was no way she could praise God for Charlie’s death. The verse had floated through her mind more than once, the one about praising God in all things. That seemed like a travesty of sense. A gross impossibility.
“I’ll be late, I have a meeting until four, four thirty.”
“Be careful in the snow.” Nora mentally slapped herself on the cheek. There she went again, overprotecting.
Christi rolled her eyes. “We need cat food.” She pushed back her chair, grabbed her backpack and headed for the mudroom, where the winter gear hung.
Nora raised her voice to be heard across the room. “Thanks for letting me know.” She waited and added what she always used to say: “Hope you have a great day.” Or at least a good one, but then perhaps just better than the day before was as much as she could expect. She thought about the artwork she’d seen. Maybe she should keep it to herself for a while, anything to keep the peace.
Did she even dare go into Christi’s room, strip the bed and pick up the dirty clothes? Or would that ignite World War III?
Chapter Twenty-eight
Jenna
Mom, do you love Uncle Randy?”
“Well, of course.” They were sitting in the living room, empty soda glasses on the coffee table. Today was Jenna’s day off and they had gone looking at houses.
“No, I mean as ‘in love,’ are you in love with him?” Holding still-miffed Elmer on her lap, Heather leaned back against Goldie, both of them on the sofa, and stretched her arms over her head. “Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“M-o-t-h-e-r. Either you are or you aren’t?”
“What makes you an expert on love?” Jenna stroked the little dog in her lap, earning her a quick lick kiss on the hand. Oscar had settled right in, understanding the value of a forever home, just as Goldie had. They’d all fallen into a routine, both dogs ignoring the cat. Heather and the dogs waited for Jenna to get home so they could all go for a walk. Afterward, breakfast, and then Jenna went to bed, with Oscar curled right beside her, while Heather hit the books, Goldie at her feet.
“Shouldn’t you be studying?” Why was she having a hard time answering Heather’s question? She knew the answer. Of course she loved him, was in love with him, but that didn’t make everything easy. Five years her junior wasn’t bothering her, but it might bother the rest of the family. Not hers, but his? He wanted to take care of them, but did they need him to take care of them? And the biggie—she was pretty much beyond childbearing age. Randy would have no children of his own, unless they took a chance on the newer treatments.
Didn’t he deserve the joys of rearing children? Yes, he’d been around for much of Heather’s life, but visiting and being a live-in dad were two different lifestyles. She looked up to see Heather studying her rather than the book on her chest. “What?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Aren’t you the one who said it was impolite to answer a question with a question?”
“Did I say that?”
“M-o-th-errr” made it to four syllables that time. Jenna nibbled her bottom lip. Why was she worrying about marriage, when he’d not even mentioned such a thing yet—other than saying he’d loved her for a long time and would wait until she was ready. How would she know when or if she was ready? After all, this wasn’t teenage raging-hormones time.
“I think I’m going to marry Jared.”
Although if Jenna thought about kissing him, or even touching his hand, something in her middle melted.
“And we’re going to have fourteen children.”
And they could talk for hours, Randy made her laugh. So many years since a man had made her laugh.
“And live on motorcycles.”
Mrs. Randy Montgomery. See, she wouldn’t even have to change her driver’s license. How about that for a bargain?
“With ten dogs.”
“Dogs can’t ride motorcycles, and you are a goof. You thought I wasn’t listening.” She tossed the blue plaid pillow from behind her back at her daughter, who collapsed in giggles. Jenna joined her.
“But, Mom”—Heather leaped in when she could talk again—“I was serious.”
“Right. Yes, of course you were.”
“About Uncle Randy. I hope you are in love with Randy, because he loves you and he has for a long time, and I think we would be a real good family, and I’m too old to be adopted, so he’d still be more like my uncle, but, Mom…” She paused and blinked back tears. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I want you to be happy.”
“You think I’m not happy?”
Heather rolled her eyes and shook her head. “There you go again.”
Jenna scooted forward in her chair, until she could turn and take Heather’s hands. “Daughter mine, I am incredibly happy and I want to savor every minute of it. I look at you and I want to sing and dance and throw confetti out the window. I think of Randy and I get all warm and mushy inside, and I know I’m sort of scared to think of marriage again, but when he asks me, I’ll say yes.”
“Why are you waiting for him to ask you?”
“Because I’m an old-fashioned girl who believes that is the way God wants it to be.” She sniffed and swallowed, along with a slightly damp smile. “Anything else?”
Heather nodded, rather emphatically. “I think he should help us pick out a house.”
“So does he.”
“Will we need to move away from here?”
Jenna paused. “We’ve not talked about that. But he can fly in and out of the airport here. It means one more stop probably, but—well, we’ll see.”
“I don’t want to leave Dr. Avery.”
“I know, me neither. And I do like my job, you know?” Would the Montgomery women be too set in their ways to allow Randy what he needed, wanted? Jenna wondered.
Why are you being cranky?” Jenna asked several days later. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine, Mother. All I asked was to take my driver’s test. Other kids got theirs years ago.” She stomped across the room to throw herself on the sofa. “Twenty years old and my mother is still driving me around.”
“Well, first of all, you need to get a permit and then you have to take a driver’s education class.”
“You could teach me.”
“As I said, you have to take a class, then drive with a teacher who knows more about cars and laws and teaching driving than I’ll ever know.”
“But if I get my permit, I can drive.”
“With an adult, meaning me, in the car.”
“Uncle Randy would let me drive with him.”
“Most likely, but before any of this, you need to get clearance from Dr. Avery.” Jenna shuddered inside. Heather had never insisted like this before. Next she’d be saying she wanted to move out, get an apartment, go away to school. Sure, all those things should happen in the future, but right now, they were still in a waiting mode. Waiting for Heather to grow stronger, to get past the most dangerous times of rejection, for all the medications to learn to work together and her body to accept them.
She watched her daughter stare down at her fingers. She turned her hand, fingers bent, and studied her nails and cuticles. After nibbling off a hangnail, she sighed.
“And when he says I am cleared to go
?”
Jenna heaved a deep sigh. “Then we start the process, I guess.” She hated to give names to her fears, but her daughter driving was one of them. Did she not trust the miracle of the new heart? Yes and no. The visible evidence was out there for all to see, but what was happening on the inside?
“Guess I better get busy. I’m about due for another test. The school said I can take it at the library.”
Jenna still had trouble with Heather going out into public places. Who knew what kind of germs she might contact there? A cold could turn into pneumonia, there were always flu bugs floating around. Building up resistance again was difficult with all the drugs to fight rejection. They trod a fine line.
With this class finished, Heather would have completed her freshman year of college all online, not bad considering all her health problems. Sheer dogged persistence, that’s what it took. One time, Heather had told her that studying helped take her mind off her incapacities. In the weeks since the surgery, she’d made amazing progress. No one ever accused her daughter of being slow in the brains department. It was her body that hadn’t cooperated.
Jenna set Oscar on the floor and headed to the kitchen, hearing his tiny nails as he trotted after her. After all, she might drop something while she was cooking. The kitchen remained a land of possibilities.
As soon as Dr. Avery acquiesced, she needed to add Heather to her automobile insurance. Next she’d be wanting a car of her own. The thought struck horror in her soul. She knew the time was coming for Heather to be more independent. She knew it was her job to foster that. But between the knowledge and the doing lay a Grand Canyon–sized chasm.
“How’s the search coming?” Randy asked when he called later.
“Ask Heather, she’s not talking to me much right now.”
“Is she feeling all right?”
“Says she is.” Jenna was trying to decide how to ask Heather if she could listen to her heart, although the doctors had said that the biopsies were the only diagnostic tool for rejection. If it had gone far enough to be detected with a stethoscope, it had gone way too far.
“I can’t come for the weekend, but I could be there Monday and Tuesday, or whenever you have days off.”
“I’m working the weekend, but off Tuesday and Wednesday.”
“Perfect. Have you seen any places that are possibilities?”
“Not really. There’s not a lot for sale around here.” And fewer in her price range. Randy’s perspective on what was available would be quite different.
They talked about his traveling, the family news and the weather before he said where he was calling from.
“Mexico City? What are you doing there?”
“Looking at a company as a possible acquisition.”
“Does that mean you would spend a lot of time down there?”
“Possibly, well, most likely. For a while, at least, to make sure everything runs smoothly in the transition.”
Jenna knew he was in the financial division of a communications firm that was expanding worldwide. Like his older brother, he liked living a bit on the edge. Traveling to less advantaged parts of the world was his equivalent of his brother’s marine service. Was she making a mistake in thinking he’d be home more if he were married?
“I miss you.” The timbre of his voice deepened.
Jenna closed her eyes. She could feel his voice clear down to her toes.
“Four days.”
“Four days. I’ll be counting,” she said. The hours, the minutes.
“I’ll be praying for the biopsy.”
“Thanks.”
They said good-bye and she set the phone in the charger. Phone calls used to be sufficient, a good break. Now they were not enough. Was that a sign of being ready?
After the heart biopsy on Monday, Dr. Avery came into the room where Heather lay dozing. Jenna sat near a window, reading a novel.
“So how’s our girl doing on a daily basis?”
“Loves walking the dogs a couple of times a day. If the weather is too cold, the walks are short.”
“Good. Do you both use the gym when it’s too cold outside?”
“She does more than I do.”
“How’s her attitude?”
Jenna smiled. “Try keeping her down. Pulling A’s in her classes, chatting with her group, searching for the accident that gave her a heart.”
“Wanting a driver’s license.” Heather sounded drowsy but adamant.
“A driver’s license, eh? Have you ever taken driver’s ed?”
Heather snorted. “Like when?”
“I see. So, are you asking if I approve?”
“Mom thinks we need a release signed by you.”
“Perhaps you do for insurance purposes. I’ll look into it.” He smiled at Jenna. “But let’s see how this test turns out.”
“I’m fine, can’t you tell?”
Dr. Avery tweaked her toes. “Patience, Heather, patience. Are you staying out of crowds?”
“Yes. I only shop online, we rent movies, I haven’t been to a theater for years. Mom does the grocery shopping, the only other person I see, other than in passing, is Uncle Randy. I really could use a social life, you know?”
“I know. You’ve been faithful and I’m proud of you. We’ll call you with the results. I’ll send the nurse in to disconnect that IV.”
“Thanks.” Jenna smiled at her friend. “I hear you went ice fishing.”
“I did. Only caught one walleye, but he was a fighter.” He patted Heather’s foot. “You take care now.”
Jenna watched him go out the door. How blessed they were to be in his care so they didn’t need to go to Omaha every week.
But when he called with the results the next day, his voice was somber. “Bad news, I’m afraid. There are signs of rejection. We’ll need to see her ASAP.”
Jenna closed her eyes to shut out the fear. Rejection. They had been so fortunate so far. Please, God, take this away.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Nora
Nora, it’s Easter, we need to go as a family.” Gordon locked his hands behind his head, the picture of relaxation in the light from the bedside lamp.
Nora closed her eyes against the onslaught prompted by his request. She hadn’t been to church for—well, ever since just after New Year’s. She did nothing but cry there, and when people asked how she was, she cried some more. That made them uncomfortable and her more miserable. Easier to stay away. Easier to not have to talk to God. He could have kept this from happening—had He wanted. As far as she could see, He’d not lived up to His promise to protect His children. How could you trust someone who let you down so terribly?
“You and Christi can go.”
“I know we can, we have been, but everyone keeps asking about you. What can I say?” He crossed his ankles. “Besides, I miss you.”
She turned to stare at him.
“It just doesn’t seem right without you there with me.”
She thought of all the times she and the kids had been in church without him when he was on business trips. What he said was true, it had never seemed right. “All I’ll do is cry.”
“Is that such a terrible thing?”
“I am so tired of crying, of wanting to crawl under the covers and not come out.” She twisted her fingers in the covers. Of missing Charlie. God, how can I keep going? While some days weren’t quite so bad, others felt like her world had just caved in again. Three steps forward, two back, didn’t begin to cover it. Had she gained any ground at all?
“Please.”
One word. A word so powerful when asked in love, in sorrow. “We have to sit in the back.” That way I can get out if I begin to make a total fool of myself.
“Nora, it will be okay, they’re our family. They miss you.”
Easter. Resurrection. New life. Yes, she believed that Charlie had new life, that he was happy and loving heaven. That wasn’t the problem. She believed she’d see him again, but someday was not now. Someday shou
ldn’t have become part of her vocabulary.
“Don’t worry, we can sit in the back.”
She knew this was a concession on his part. Their pew was on the right, six from the front. Not that they owned it or any such thing, but that was where the Peterson family always sat.
Morning came far too soon, dread making her want to dive and hide. Instead, she put on a gray wool pantsuit. While the calendar said late March, winter had yet to release its hold on the Minneapolis area. Anyone silly enough to wear a spring suit or dress would freeze. As she entered the kitchen, Gordon looked up from his coffee.
“You look very nice.”
She answered with a half nod. She didn’t look nice, she looked drab and the clothes hung on her. She didn’t realize how much weight she’d lost. Instead of wearing the silver silk blouse that went with the suit, she’d dug out a black cashmere mock turtle to help her stay warm. Gordon looked good in a navy suit, with a red-and-blue patterned tie. But then, he always wore his clothes well.
While there was more silver at his temples, he didn’t seem any worse for wear after all they’d been through. She knew there was no way to say the same for her. The face in the mirror looked ten years older, in spite of her extra time with the tools of makeup. Christi joined them, wearing cords and a turtleneck sweater, not dressed up but better than jeans and a sweatshirt.
Nora fetched her cranberry wool coat from the front closet, checked to make sure lined leather gloves were in the pockets and added a white mohair long scarf. She always felt cold lately. Did grief even change one’s personal thermostat?
Gordon took her hand as they neared the front steps to the sanctuary, as if afraid she might bolt and run. She almost had. She nodded and hoped she was smiling—she’d ordered her mouth to do that—at the couple greeting just inside the door. Easter lilies welcomed them from three-tiered stands and banked both sides of the steps to the altar. She slid into the second-to-last row, with Gordon following her and Christi after him. Immediately she wished she’d changed places with her daughter. Now she’d have to climb over them to get out if she had to flee. Nodding politely to the person next to her, she buried her face in the bulletin. The organ prelude faded as the brass ensemble took their places to herald the risen Christ.
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