Nora clamped her teeth. This was always one of her favorite services. Easter in the past started with the sunrise service, moved into the Easter breakfast served by the youth of the church and culminated in one of the two main services, usually filled to the needing of extra chairs. Not today. Just get through this, she ordered herself. You can do anything for an hour.
Gordon took her hand again, something he rarely did in public, but she knew he meant it as a lifeline. Just the thought of his kindness made her eyes burn. The trumpets and coronets finished and Luke stood before the congregation. “ ‘Christ is risen.’ ”
“ ‘He is risen indeed,’ ” responded those in the pews. Nora focused on her hymn book as the service proceeded. She felt like a little girl with her hands clapped over her ears, muttering to herself to drown out the voices, the music, the silence. Just get through.
“ ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who comes onto Me shall not die.’ ”
The words of Jesus broke through her barriers. Sobs clawed at her throat, tears bursting past her control. She stood and pushed past her husband and daughter. “I’ll wait for you in the car.” The usher, one of their longtime friends, tried to catch her arm, but she pushed passed him and fled out the door.
The icy wind felt cooling on her hot cheeks. She reached the SUV, climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition to get the heater going. She should have gone downstairs or into the choir room, where it was warm, but getting away had been all she could think of. As the storm abated, she slumped against the seat. When she saw the first people returning to the parking lot, she climbed out and back in on the passenger side. Surely, they wouldn’t stand around visiting today.
“I’m sorry,” she said as soon as Gordon climbed into the car.
“It’s okay. That was a hard service to go to.”
“Where’s Christi?”
“She’ll be here in a minute.” He rubbed his hands together, then reached over for his driving gloves. “Looks like it could snow.”
To keep from crying again, Nora read the list of donors for the Easter lilies. When she saw that one was dedicated to Charlie, from his loving mother and father, she crumpled the paper and succumbed to tears too strong to resist.
“Sorry, guess I should have warned you.”
The heat blasting from the vents turned on high covered the sound of her recalcitrant sob. She shook her head, blowing out a deep sigh.
“Luke said to tell you that he’s praying for you, us, and will come over any time of day or night if that would help.”
“I couldn’t stay. Tears are one thing, but bawling is quite another.” She leaned back against the headrest.
“It will get better.” He leaned over and patted her knee. “At least that’s what they tell me.”
“And you believe them?”
“What are my choices?”
Looking out the window, she saw Christi walking with a boy, not one of the kids Nora knew. Since the teens from church had often been at their house, she knew them all and their parents too. “Who is that Christi is with?”
Gordon leaned forward and stared out the window. “I don’t know.”
“Has she mentioned a boyfriend to you?”
“Nope.”
Nora had heard tales of Charlie and his friends vetting the boys that Christi could go out with. Not that she’d been too interested in the opposite sex, so far her art took first place.
Christi waved good-bye and strode on toward the family car.
Questions rose for Nora to battle down. She couldn’t ask Charlie about the new guy. Charlie, who’d kept her up to date on all the goings-on with the kids both at church and school. She’d overhear as the twins had sat at the counter for snacks after school talking of their day. How she missed those times, often kicking herself in the wakeful hours of the night for taking so many things for granted.
“So who’s your friend?” Gordon asked as he backed out of the parking space.
Christi scooted forward and leaned her crossed arms on the back of her father’s seat. “His name is Brandon McCafferty, he was in Sunday school the last couple of weeks. They moved here from Rochester, but he goes to school in Savage. He’s cute, huh?”
Was this the same Christi who wouldn’t string three words together the weeks her father was gone? The girl who’d have snarled or flat-out ignored anything her mother had said and here she was Miss Chatty Cathy. You should be grateful she has a good relationship with her father, Nora reminded herself. She needs someone to talk with too. You at least have Susan.
“The Styvansents invited us over for dessert, about four. I told them I’d ask you.”
Nora shook her head. “I can’t.” All the energy she’d started the day with lay splashed over the sidewalks from the church to the car, fluid drained from a transmission. Without that fluid, the car did not run. All she could think about was a bed, a pillow to soak up her tears and a warm comforter. “I’ll put the ham in, we’ll eat about two.”
“Maybe Susan and John would like to come over for a game of cards tonight,” Gordon suggested.
“She probably can’t get a sitter on Easter Sunday.”
“I’ll go babysit. Ben is a sweetie,” Christi offered. Nora closed her eyes. Was everyone ganging up on her? Couldn’t he tell she was at the end of her rope with no knot to hang onto? “I’ll see.”
“You want me to call?”
“Anything you want.” Now she sounded like Christi. Speaking through gritted teeth was not exactly conducive to warmth. Once in the house, she hung up her coat and let Betsy out for a run. After peeling the sealed plastic wrap from the ham, she set it in a pan, the pan in the oven, and turned the dial to 250. She scrubbed the yams, splashing water on her suit jacket. Slamming the yam in the sink, she grabbed a towel to brush dirt and water off, muttering words she might have thought often but did not speak. Why didn’t she change clothes first or at least put on an apron? She knew why. If she went up to her room to change, she’d have crashed on the bed and not moved. At least this way, she could say she was taking a nap, not checking out of life.
“Anything I can do?” Gordon asked, coming into the kitchen in khakis and a navy cotton pullover sweater. “I called Susan and left a message.”
“Good. If you’ll make your special coleslaw, that would be great. I got all the ingredients.”
“Anything for dessert if they come?”
“There’s an apple pie in the freezer. Wake me in an hour.” Without waiting for his response, she dragged herself up the stairs, hung up her clothes, slipped into sweats and crawled under the covers. When Betsy jumped up on the bed and snuggled against her back, the cold gave way, muscle by muscle, to warmth, and blessed sleep took over.
She could feel her mind returning to that no-man’s-land of neither asleep nor awake when Gordon sat down on the edge of the bed. She yawned and stretched, then reached for his hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. For what?”
Gratitude welled up, overwhelming her with the force, not like a wave crashing but a surge from below, lifting her into sunlight. “For being so steady, for being there for Christi, for making the coleslaw.”
“You haven’t tasted it yet.” He stroked her hair back. “I want you back, Nora. I want our life back.”
“Me too.” She turned on her back so she could look at him more clearly. “But so far, I’m just doing the best I can.”
“I guess we all are. But maybe you can get some help.”
“Maybe. Susan wants me to talk with Lois.”
“I’d hoped you could talk with Luke.”
“Maybe.” She traced the back of his hand with her fingertips. “I-it seems like I’m walking, staggering in this empty land, and there’s no end, no help, nothing. But if I stop”—she shook her head—“something terrible will happen.”
He picked up her hand and kissed the palm. “Dinner’s about ready.”
“Where’s Christi?”
“
On the phone. Brandon, I think.”
“One more thing to worry about.”
“Give her a break, honey, she’s trying her best too.”
Nora nodded and threw back the covers. “I’ll get dressed and be right down. Did you think to stab the yams to see if they are done?”
“Yup, and turned off the oven.”
“Are we playing cards tonight?”
“Susan said they’re willing if you are. Christi will go babysit.”
Nora shucked her sweats and pulled navy cords and a turtleneck, along with a knit vest, from the closet. “Here it is Easter and we’re still wearing winter clothes.”
The two of them walked together down the stairs.
An envelope lay beside each of their places. Nora looked at Gordon, but he shrugged. Together they put the food on the table and Gordon called Christi to come eat. They had sat down by the time she entered the room.
She slid into her chair. “Open the cards.”
Nora slit open the envelope and pulled out a hand-painted card of Easter lilies. Inside she read, “Happy Easter, Mom. I love you, C.” She looked up to see tears glistening in Gordon’s eyes. An empty cross decorated the front of his card. He showed it to Nora: “Happy Easter to the best dad ever. I love you, C.”
They turned to their daughter. “Thank you.” Gordon reached over and patted her hand. “These are beautiful.”
Nora set hers up in the center of the table and then Gordon did the same. He bowed his head. “Father, we thank You for our daughter and her many talents, for this blessed Easter day, for the food we have, and the friends. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
Nora wiped her eyes and reached for the ham platter to start the dishes going around.
This feels like old times.” John glanced around the card table.
Nora caught Susan’s slightly rolled eyes. She had probably coached him on what and what not to say. Nora hoped she was wearing some semblance of a smile. Sometimes it was hard to tell, her face felt taut from all the tears, or rather fighting against the tears.
“How about UNO?” Gordon laid the deck on the table. “Or Hearts?” A regular deck joined the first. “Or Crazy Eights? Any preferences?” When they all shook their heads, he tapped the UNO deck. “All right?”
“Ben was thrilled to see Christi walk in the door. She’s always been the best babysitter. Unless, of course, one of the girls is home.” Susan took half the deck and started shuffling, then handed hers to Gordon to shuffle with his.
“Can I get any of you something to drink?” Nora glanced at each and shrugged at their nos. “There are chips and dip on the counter, along with cheeses and crackers.”
“I’m fine.” Gordon gave each of them the proper number of cards. “Remember, when you get down to one card in your hand, you have to say ‘uno,’ or if someone catches you, you draw four.”
Nora stared at the cards in her hand. Surely, she could concentrate enough to follow a simple game like this. But her mind kept wandering and she could tell the others were getting frustrated with her for playing the wrong cards. Soon she had so many cards in her hand from having to draw that she needed a basket to hold them. John won the first hand, Gordon, the second and Susan, the third. Nora had so many points against her that she’d never catch up.
“How about we have dessert now?” Susan suggested. “This needs to be an early night for me.”
Nora stood immediately. Just a simple game and she couldn’t even do that. Was she going crazy or what? “Do you all want ice cream with your pie?”
As she and Susan prepared the dessert, the men spent the time talking in front of the fire. “I saw you come to church, I was really happy for you.”
“And then I was gone. Sorry, I just couldn’t handle it.”
“Nobody minds if you cry.”
“How about wailing and gnashing of teeth?” Nora slid a slice of pie onto a plate. “It wasn’t just tears pouring down my face. I had to get out of there. Sometimes I wonder if I’m going stark raving mad.” There, she had said it, admitted one of her deepest fears, second only to losing another member of her family: Gordon flying across oceans, terrorists in other countries, Christi and the car. Charlie had been a good driver, a careful driver. But what about the other drivers?
“I really think you need to talk with someone who knows about grieving. Lois, Luke, a counselor, someone. I feel so inadequate, with no answers.”
Nora pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Somewhere she had read that could help stem the tears. Amazingly, it worked. “Charlie loved apple pie. I put all these in the freezer this fall. Other than Thanksgiving, this is the first I’ve used.” She swallowed hard. “You really think Lois could help?”
“If she can’t, I’m sure she knows someone who can.” Susan carried two plates with forks over to the men, Nora followed with mugs of coffee. The women took theirs over to the table in the bay window.
“I sure hope she can help, because I don’t think I can keep going on like this. Freaking out at church, hiding in bed, can’t even concentrate on a stupid card game.” She watched a blob of ice cream slide off her warm pie.
Susan reached over and covered her hand. Nora heaved a sigh as a tear ran down her cheek. Three months since Charlie died. Shouldn’t things be getting better? “Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown.”
Chapter Thirty
Jenna
You’re not looking too good, my friend.” Dr. Avery pulled out a chair and sat down beside her.
Jenna nodded. “Guess I was foolish enough to believe we’d made it through all the bad possibilities and we were home free.”
“Don’t go giving up on me now. This is just a blip on the screen.”
Jenna stared at him. Had he been reading the same numbers she had? “Do you know something I don’t?”
Avery shook his head. “Nope. We both pray to the same God, we both fight to not only keep people alive but to get them healthy again. The big difference? I’ve seen far more of this than you have, and I absolutely believe Heather is one of the victorious ones.”
“How come you don’t do like most doctors and hedge your bets?”
“If I weren’t sure, I most likely would do that too. But I believe God has some mighty plan for our girl here and
I can’t wait to see what He is going to do.” He clasped his hands behind his head and swung his elbows from side to side. “We’ll lick this attack, for you know that’s what it is, and rejoice in the victory. Remember who won the war, we just put out the brush fires.” He spread his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright. “You go on home and get some rest, so you don’t frighten her when she wakes up.”
“That bad?”
“No, but I got a rise out of you.” He glanced at the monitors. “They know your number. Satan would like nothing more than to get you discouraged.” Patting her shoulder, he headed out the door.
Jenna took out a pen and paper and wrote a note to Heather. “Dr. Avery sent me home. He says not to worry, this is a blip on the screen. I love you, Mom.” She laid the paper on the tray table and grabbed her down jacket off the back of the chair. Best do what the doctor ordered. That’s what she always told Heather. She leaned over to kiss her daughter on the forehead and headed for the exit and the parking lot. Hopefully, Matilda had taken the dogs out. That was one thing about a cat, the litter box was always available.
“So, God”—she continued her conversation, aloud, on the drive home—“the word is ‘trust.’ You realize, of course, that is easier said than done, especially in the matters of my daughter’s health. I know, I know, our daughter. Thank you for Dr. Avery. I just have to tell You, and I know You already know it, but this really scares me. So, I choose to trust You with the most precious thing I have, Heather.” She gritted her teeth. “She is Yours.” Jenna stared around the inside of her car. No one had turned on a light, but it sure felt like it. The warmest light she could feel, but not really see. She parked the SUV in her slot and slung her p
urse over her shoulder. Glancing up, she could see a light in the living-room window. Matilda had indeed been on duty. Probably praying too, like all their other friends. And Randy, he’d be here tomorrow. She took the stairs to the second floor, two at a time. Sleep quick, so tomorrow could come sooner.
Once she’d calmed the exuberant greeting from the dogs, mollified the cat and read the note on the table, which said they’d been out at eight, she checked the answering machine—no red light—and slipped into bed in less than five minutes. Oscar joined her and Goldie stretched out on the floor beside the bed. The three of them sighed in unison, making Jenna smile. Amazing how these animals made the apartment more of a home.
The ringing phone woke her at six thirty. Randy’s number flashed on the screen. Letting her heart settle back into place, she propped the pillows behind her as she answered.
After the greeting, he continued, “I’m just getting on the plane, so I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“You’re in Denver?” She let his voice wrap comfort around her.
“Yes. You heard anything?”
“No, Dr. Avery kicked me out about ten. Left her sleeping like a baby. He says the worst is passed.”
“How does he know?”
“Years of experience, I guess. Says this is a blip on the screen.”
“But you said—”
“I know, that she was having a bad reaction to the new meds. Wish you could have heard him.”
“I gotta turn this off, the stewardess is frowning at me. I love you.”
Her heart skipped. But before she could answer, Jenna heard the phone click off. He’d not said that on the phone before. Goldie whimpered at the doorway. She threw back the covers and dragged on her sweats. “You guys better make it quick. It’s cold out there.”
While the eastern sky was lightening, the stars shone clear overhead. Snow had melted some yesterday, and from the south breeze on her face, she judged more would go today. If all went well, Heather would come home tomorrow. And Randy would be here soon. What more could she ask for? She fingered the charm bracelet, which she only took off when showering, caressing the dangling heart, which represented Heather’s new heart. Hearts could signify all kinds of different things.
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