Chapter 11
CAROLINE
“There’s been no change in her condition,” Caroline told Mitch on the phone. She stood outside the hospital cafeteria, where they could talk without bothering anyone. He’d just called from Tokyo, where it was around eight in the morning tomorrow. Caroline always had a hard time wrapping her head around the time differences.
“Do you want me to come home?” Mitch asked for the second time.
“No,” she said quickly. “Of course not. I know this trip is important. And you only just got there yesterday … or today … or whenever that was.”
“But I would come home if you needed me, Caroline. You know that, don’t you?”
She was slightly shocked by this. The truth was, she didn’t know that he would actually drop everything and come halfway around the world to be by her side. A part of her was tempted to test him on this, but she wouldn’t.
“I really appreciate that,” she told him, “but don’t worry, I’ve got the Lindas here for moral support.” She told him about Janie’s legal help and how Marley and Abby had done some sleuthing. “Really, I’m in good hands.”
“It’s a lot to deal with,” he said sadly. “I wish I could be there for you.”
“I promise that if I really need you, I’ll call, okay?” Of course, even as she said this, she doubted it.
“I’m with you in spirit,” he said gently.
“Thanks.”
They talked a while longer, but then it was time for him to go in to a meeting. She wished him good luck, and he told her to keep him posted, then they hung up. She returned to the dining room, where Abby and Janie were waiting for her. The three of them had been on their way to get something to drink when Caroline’s phone had rung.
“How’s the traveling man?” Abby asked as Caroline sat down with them.
“He seemed very concerned,” Caroline admitted. “Even willing to come home.”
“Wow.” Abby nodded. “Impressive.”
“I got you some green tea.” Janie slid a cup in front of Caroline. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” Caroline opened a sugar packet and poured in half of it, then stirred the tea. “I almost called him on it.”
“Called him on what?” Abby asked.
“You know, asked him to leave Tokyo and come home to help me. But that seemed unfair. Besides, I told him I have my Lindas as backup.” Caroline smiled at them. “No one could expect more than that.”
“Marley was here earlier,” Janie told Abby, “but she had to leave because it’s her afternoon to play grandma to Hunter.”
“Janie tells me that the police are getting a little more cooperative,” Abby said to Caroline. “That’s something.”
Caroline chuckled and pointed to Janie. “That’s because she went in there wearing her power suit and talking legalese. I’m sure she must’ve shaken them up a little.”
“I only wanted to get their attention,” Janie defended, “and to have them take me seriously.”
Caroline patted her hand. “And for that I am truly grateful.” Now she turned to Abby. “You’ll never guess who Janie met at city hall!”
Abby’s brows arched. “Who?”
“Victor’s ex!”
Abby got a funny look now, like she knew something but wasn’t going to say it. Caroline continued, “But our big question is—what were Victor and Donna doing at city hall this morning?”
Janie made what sounded like a forced laugh. “Yes, I told Caroline I was worried that they were in there getting hitched, but I have to admit that’s a bit far-fetched.”
“Don’t worry. They weren’t getting hitched,” Abby declared.
Now both Caroline and Janie turned to Abby. “How do you know?” Caroline asked.
Abby held up her hands in a flustered way. “Well, I … uh … I just happen to know.”
“Come on,” Caroline demanded, “spill it.”
Janie’s eyes looked worried.
“Well, I was going to tell you,” Abby began slowly. “You see, uh, it was Paul’s doing.” She paused and took a sip of tea.
“Paul’s doing what?” Caroline persisted.
“Paul asked me to go to lunch with Victor and Donna today.”
“You went to lunch with Victor and his ex-wife?” Caroline exclaimed.
“Don’t look so scandalized,” Abby said quickly. “I didn’t want to go.”
“But you went anyway?” Caroline frowned at her.
“Why don’t we let Abby explain?” Janie said gently.
“Yes,” Abby agreed. “Let me explain.” She said Victor wanted Paul and Abby to have lunch with them so that Donna could meet locals and learn about some of the housing opportunities in town.
“So she’s sticking around, then?” Caroline asked.
“I think so.” Abby sighed. “Anyway, I’ll just cut to the chase. I kind of asked Donna if she wanted to rent a room at my bed-and-breakfast.”
“But your bed-and-breakfast isn’t even running,” Janie said quietly.
“I know. Not officially. But there’s no reason Donna can’t rent a room from me and—”
“Abby Franklin!” Caroline had to stop herself from saying, You Benedict Arnold! “What were you thinking?”
“Hear me out,” Abby protested. “It sounds like Donna is trying to make herself a permanent fixture in Victor’s life, and I got the impression that Victor isn’t really comfortable with it. I was merely trying to help Victor out of a sticky situation.”
“I don’t know.” Janie sighed. “I got the impression that Victor and Donna were rather comfortable together.”
“By the way,” Caroline added, “what were they doing at city hall?”
Abby explained Donna’s support for Victor’s interest in the farmers’ market. “Donna is really gung-ho about Clifden. She has a marketing or publicity background, and it sounds like she’s determined to put our town on the map.”
“We are on the map,” Janie pointed out.
Abby looked frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” Caroline said to Abby. “I didn’t mean to sound so accusatory. But it’s kind of shocking to hear you getting all buddy-buddy with the enemy.”
“Donna’s not the enemy,” Janie said. “In fact she seems quite nice.”
“You know what I mean,” Caroline told her.
“I don’t want to turn this into some kind of a battlefield,” Janie said calmly. “We are all grown-ups, and this is a small town. If Abby wants to rent a room to Donna, we shouldn’t make her feel guilty about it.”
“Speaking of renting rooms,” Abby said. “I thought you might like to use a room there too, Caroline. I mean rent-free.”
“You want me to live with Victor’s ex?” Caroline frowned at Abby.
Janie laughed. “Oh, come on, Caroline. It’s not like you and Donna would become roommates. And don’t forget, my law office is downstairs.”
“It seems a bit odd.” Caroline tried to imagine the whole thing. “What about Chuck? Is he welcome there too?”
“Why not?” Abby smiled. “I read that pet friendly B and B’s are becoming quite popular.”
Caroline looked at Janie now. “I appreciate your hospitality, Janie. But your house isn’t exactly pet friendly. I mean it’s friendly enough, but …”
Janie seemed relieved. “I’ll understand if you and Chuck want to stay at the B and B. In fact it seems like a handy solution. You’ll be even closer to the hospital.”
“I don’t think I can have the rooms ready for a few days,” Abby told Caroline. “But it would really motivate me to get moving if I knew someone was going to live there.”
“Count me in,” Caroline said. “Maybe I can get some of my things moved from my mom’s house so you
—”
“What about the smoke damage?” Abby asked. “We don’t want—”
“My room was closed up during the fire,” Caroline told her. “I think most of my stuff will be okay with some laundering and dry cleaning.”
Abby nodded. “Well, okay. But I want to get some beds and furnishings and things. So, other than your clothes and personal items, you shouldn’t need much.”
“Maybe I can help you out with the laundry and dry cleaning,” Janie offered. “I could stop by on my way home and pick up your—”
Caroline pointed at Janie’s nice suit. “Not in those clothes.”
“Oh, right.” Janie nodded. “But I can check on Chuck and get some of your things if you want.”
“Thanks,” Caroline told her. “I’d appreciate that.”
Abby stood. “I’ll start getting some things together for the B and B. I’m actually getting excited at the prospect of the house being used. It’s lighting a fire under me.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “Please, Abby, spare me the fire metaphors.”
Abby grimaced. “Oh yeah. I forgot. Sorry.”
They all stood and hugged, then Abby hurried on her way.
“Call me if you need anything,” Janie told Caroline. “If you want, I’ll fix us a late dinner tonight. I know you’ll probably want to stick around here until visiting hours end.”
“Thanks.” Caroline sighed. “Not that it makes much difference.”
“You never know,” Janie assured her. “What if your mother can hear you?”
“That’s what I keep hoping for.”
As Caroline headed back to the critical care unit, that’s what she told herself. Maybe Mom really can hear me. Wouldn’t that make all this worthwhile? Most of the time that Caroline sat by her mom’s side, she had to wonder. In some ways it seemed like her mom was already dead, and yet circumstances refused to give Caroline permission to grieve. Those machines just kept going, as if they could go on like that forever, sustaining a life that wasn’t even there.
“Oh, Mom,” Caroline said as she watched the motionless features of her mother’s pale, wrinkled face. “I wish there were a way I could release you to move on, to go to a better place, but that’s for God to do. It’s up to him. Please trust him, Mom. Feel his arms around you and surrender yourself to him. He loves you, Mom. He wants to take care of you. He wants to heal your mind and your heart and your soul. He wants to give you a new body. Just let him.” She sighed. “Maybe you already have.” She reached over and touched her mom’s forehead. “Maybe you already have.”
Chapter 12
MARLEY
“Are you going to marry my grandpa?” Hunter asked Marley as they were leaving the craft store. Marley had just bought some sculpting clay.
“What?” Marley looked down at Hunter’s serious-looking, big brown eyes.
“I said, are you going to marry Grandpa?”
Marley chuckled as she ran her fingers through Hunter’s red curls. “What makes you ask that?”
“I’m just wondering.”
“As far as I know, I am not going to marry your grandpa.”
“Why not?”
Marley laughed as she unlocked her car. “Because I’m not.”
“You don’t like my grandpa?” Hunter sounded offended as she buckled herself into Marley’s backseat.
“I like your grandpa, Hunter. You know that.”
“Then why won’t you marry him?”
Marley had to think hard now. “Marriage is a big thing,” she explained as she started the car. “It’s not something I would ever jump into. I did that once, and it didn’t work out too well.”
“You were married before?” Hunter sounded surprised.
“Yes. I told you that. Remember? And remember that I have a son, Ashton—the one who makes drums for a living?”
“Oh yeah. But you’re not married now, right?”
“Right.”
“So you could marry my grandpa if you wanted to.”
“Right.” Marley was trying to think of a way to derail this conversation.
“But you just don’t want to?”
“Like I was saying,” Marley tried again. “I was married once, and it wasn’t so great. If I ever get married again—and I’m not planning on it—but if I do, it will only be after I’ve carefully thought about it, and after I’ve prayed about it, and only if I know absolutely, positively that it’s the right thing to do.”
“And then you might marry my grandpa?” Hunter sounded hopeful.
“I’ll tell you what, Hunter.”
“What?”
“If I ever do decide to marry your grandpa, you will be the first one to know. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So let me explain to you how that clay works,” Marley said in an effort to swing their conversation well away from the subject of marriage. “It’s not like Play-Doh, you know.”
“I know,” Hunter said. “You can bake it.”
“Yes. So I want you to start thinking about what you want to make. We only have a couple of hours before I take you back to your grandpa, and we want to make the most of it.” They began discussing the possibilities of creating jungle animals, clowns, teddy bears, and all sorts of things.
Before long they were in Marley’s beach house, working at her kitchen table, using the colorful clay to create a tiger and a giraffe. Then they moved on to making Christmas-tree decorations. “Do you really think I can sell these in Grandpa’s gallery?” Hunter asked hopefully. The prospect of earning money was appealing to her.
“I don’t see why not, if we do a good job and make a cute display. I know I would buy something like that.” Marley pointed to the sweet snowman that Hunter had just finished. “With that crooked smile and carrot nose, he’s charming.”
Hunter frowned. “His smile is crooked?”
“I mean a good kind of crooked,” Marley explained. “It’s part of his charm, like he’s not perfect. I like that sort of thing.”
“Like my grandpa?”
Marley was caught off guard again. “Huh?” she asked as she rolled out a strip of lime-green clay.
“His leg,” Hunter said, like Marley should know what she was talking about.
“His leg?”
“Yeah, his wooden leg. Only it’s not really wooden. He just says that.”
“Your grandpa has a wooden leg?” Marley tried to say this carefully, not wanting to sound shocked in case it was true, nor confrontational if it wasn’t.
Hunter peered at Marley. “You didn’t know about Grandpa’s leg?”
Marley thought hard. Jack had a slight limp. She had assumed it was caused by arthritis or an old sports injury. It didn’t really slow him down much, and she’d never heard him mention anything specific.
“Do you know why his gallery is called the One-Legged Seagull?” Hunter persisted.
“Because it’s a clever name?”
“Because it’s my grandpa,” Hunter explained. “He’s the One-Legged Seagull.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I’m not sure,” Marley confessed. “Maybe I knew that and forgot somehow.” But the truth was she did not recall hearing this before, and, even now, she wasn’t totally sure that Hunter wasn’t pulling one of Marley’s legs. “How did your grandpa lose his leg anyway?”
Hunter was rolling out a white ball for another snowman. “It’s a pretty good story.”
“Yeah?” Marley stopped sculpting the clay to listen.
“Yeah. He was working on this boat back when he was a lot younger. Like I think he was nineteen, but I’m not sure. It was a crabbing boat. I know this for sure because when I was really little I thought that Grandpa got his leg bit off
by a crab. And I used to be really scared of crabs because I thought one was going to bite my leg off too.”
“That does sound frightening.”
“But it wasn’t a crab that bit off his leg. It was some kind of a machine on the boat. It was really wet and slippery on the deck when it happened, and Grandpa slipped and fell, and his leg got caught in this big machine-thing. They were way, way out in the ocean, and he had to be rescued by the Coast Guard helicopter. I think he almost bled to death too.”
“Oh my!” Marley shuddered.
“Yeah, you should have Grandpa tell you the story. He can tell it really, really scary, especially if he thinks I’m not listening.”
Marley had to smile. “Well, the way you told it sounded scary enough for me.” For a while they both worked quietly, but now Marley was curious as to why Hunter had asked all the questions about whether Marley would ever marry Jack. Was it possible that Hunter had heard something? Well, Marley didn’t want to know. What she had told Hunter was true. She intended never to marry again unless she could be 100 percent sure it was the right thing to do.
If she ever got to the place where she was actually considering marriage—and who knew, maybe it would be with Jack—she would do it differently. She would definitely ask God for some direction.
* * *
After Marley dropped Hunter at the gallery, she couldn’t quit thinking about Jack. He was such a great guy, such a good grandfather to Hunter, such an encourager to Marley in regard to her art. As she drove away, though, she felt uneasy. Whether it was Hunter’s questioning or Marley’s own imagination, she knew that she had acted differently around Jack that evening, and she suspected he noticed. She’d been slightly cool, aloof, and standoffish, even as she gave him simple information about Hunter and a quick update on the painting she was finishing. Then she’d turned and left. That was not like her.
In the past she usually lingered a bit, visiting with Jack or Jasmine or both of them, hearing about the latest comings and goings in the gallery or in town. Sometimes they’d even grab a bite to eat. Today she ran out of there like a scared rabbit, which made her mad. She wasn’t mad at Hunter, although she wished the little girl hadn’t questioned her so much about the whole marriage issue. She wasn’t mad at Jack either. Poor guy, he had no idea what was bugging Marley tonight. The truth was, she was simply mad at herself. Why hadn’t she just acted normally?
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