by Lisa Mills
Janna shook her head. “Cory’s going to miss Trevor so much.”
“Same with Trevor.” The boys were dumping sand on each other’s back and laughing, drawing smiles from the grown-ups walking the beach. “Cory’s been a good friend to him. And you have too. We wouldn’t have survived without you guys. That’s my one regret about moving. Indiana doesn’t have you.”
Janna reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I’ll call you every week! And there’s e-mail. We don’t have to lose touch just because we live in different states.”
It wouldn’t be the same, but it would have to do. Danielle nodded, her throat too thick to comment.
~ ~ ~
Danielle’s house looked more like the site of a natural disaster than a place anyone would want to live, but the realtor had managed to get a signed offer on it that morning. The landlords had quickly accepted and called to say the closing would be in less than ten days. They wanted to know, would Danielle be able to move that soon? She told them she’d be out in one week.
“Problem is, I think I have more stuff than I can fit in the moving truck. I’m going to have to part with some of this furniture. I just don’t know what to do with it.”
Hands on her hips, Janna looked around the room. “What’s not making the cut?”
Danielle rubbed her lower back, which had started to ache from all the lifting she’d been doing. “I have to start with a few of the bigger items. The dining room set is bulky. I could make do with a card table and folding chairs for a while if I need to. And there’s a wing back chair in my bedroom that I rarely use.”
“There’s a consignment shop in Fort Walton that takes furniture. If they sell it, they keep ten percent of the sales price. Would you consider doing that?”
She’d planned to donate the items to charity. But if she could get a little money out of them, then she would have that much more to work with in getting resettled. “Sure. How would I get them there?”
“My pastor drives a pickup truck. He’ll let us borrow it.”
“That would be awesome.”
“So what else?”
Danielle shrugged. “Does the offer to donate to the garage sale still stand?”
“Sure!”
“I boxed up the toys that Trev’s outgrown. Then there are some clothes, the boogey boards, and all the beach stuff. We won’t need that in Indiana.”
“I’ll take it all,” Janna said. “If you don’t mind letting me price your stuff for you, I’ll take care of everything.”
“Really?” A garage sale was a good idea. If Danielle had more time, she would have tried it herself. “I’d really appreciate that, but only if you’re sure. It’s a lot of work.”
Janna waved away the protest. “I’m sure. You sort out the stuff you want to sell, and I’ll carry it out and load it in my van.”
Danielle found the box of toys she’d already separated from Trevor’s favorites and turned them over to Janna. She watched her friend carry it out to the driveway, a spring in her step. It was so easy to love Janna. Initially, she was disappointed that Danielle was moving, but, now that she’d accepted the inevitable, she’d become Danielle’s biggest supporter.
Danielle grabbed a large empty box and met Janna outside. “The beach stuff is in the shed. Want to help?”
“Sure.” Janna trailed her to the back yard.
The shed’s hinges squealed as Danielle opened the doors. Inside, dust motes danced in the air, and the smell of the briny water lingered in the items they used at the beach. “Things have come together more quickly than I expected. That deal Mack set up for the car worked out really well. When you subtract the balance of the loan, it leaves me with four thousand dollars to pay off debts here, rent the truck, and get resettled. I can make that work.” Danielle hefted the boogey boards and set them outside the shed door.
“And on the medical front?” Janna grabbed a snorkel and pair of kid-sized fins and placed them in the box.
“Trevor’s doctor gave us a referral to the new hospital and got all his records transferred. Here, sell these too.” She handed Janna a pair of life jackets. “We won’t use them up north.”
Janna pointed at the folding beach chairs. “Stay or go?”
“Go. Chances are slim we’ll use them, so I can’t give them space in the truck.” A glance around showed they’d cleared out the items that Danielle intended to get rid of. “I think that’s it. If you can carry the box, I’ll get the boards.”
They returned to the van and stowed the items.
As they crossed the yard, Danielle noticed the lawn was looking shaggy again, but she didn’t think she’d have time to mow it. No energy either. Moving preparations were more taxing than she’d anticipated. Thankfully, it would be over in a week.
Danielle and Janna worked and chatted for several more hours until Janna’s van had been filled to overflowing with items Danielle wanted to part with. She hadn’t realized she’d accumulated so much extra stuff, but it felt freeing to get rid of the clutter.
“Thanks, Danielle. This will really help my garage sale, having all this extra stuff. People like a garage sale that’s really well stocked.” She shut the hatchback of her van and wiped her hands on her jean shorts.
Danielle wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders and gave her a side hug. “No, thank you, Janna. I think I can fit everything that’s left into the truck now.” They ambled back toward the house.
“When’s moving day?”
“The truck is reserved for five days from now. Thanks to all your help, I think I’ll be ready.” At the thought, a sharp pain jutted up through her chest. A couple weeks ago, moving had seemed like a great idea in theory, but now that the day had come to make the plan a reality, Danielle felt torn inside.
She loved Florida, the sand and the water. The mild weather and sunshine. She stopped on the doorstep and looked around her little corner of the world. Here, seaside cottages with painted exteriors faded by the strong sun and the salty winds that blew off the Gulf gave gentle colors to her world. Blue coastal waters offered silent invitation to enjoy the fun of water sports, nap in the sun, or build a sand castle. Sea grasses danced in the soft breeze and lessened the worries of life, even on the worst day. “I’m going to miss this place. Indiana is beautiful, but in such a different way.”
Janna seemed to sense her reluctance. “You can come back and visit anytime. We’ll put you up at our house.”
“I hope you mean it, because I’ll probably take you up on that offer.”
They went inside, and Janna found her purse in the jumble of boxes and packing supplies. “Need anything else before I take off?”
Danielle shook her head. “I just have a few details to wrap up. Deliver consignment shop items. Drop off the car. Settle my rent and utilities. Get the phone turned off.” She fought back tears as she looked into Janna’s eyes. “And load the truck.”
Janna stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug, the kind that takes half the pain and bears a share of the burden. “It’ll be okay, kid. You’re strong … stronger than you realize. You can do this, for Trevor.”
Danielle returned the hug, wondering why Janna’s hugs were so much more comforting than the one’s Danielle had received from her mother just a couple weeks ago. And she wondered if she’d find a friend in Indiana who could make her feel better with just a hug.
Chapter Sixteen
“Anything else you need to do?” Janna asked.
Danielle looked at her list, and crossed off the last item. “No, that does it. Everything’s done.” Janna and Cory had followed Danielle and Trevor to the used car lot where Danielle handed her vehicle over to a new owner. That done, they’d piled into the minivan and ran a few last errands. The mail was forwarded, the bills paid, her furniture delivered to the consignment shop. Nothing remained but packing the truck and getting on the road.
Janna turned her minivan toward Danielle’s house. Trevor and Cory rode in the back seat, ta
lking about the latest video game they both wanted to buy. Danielle rested her head against the window and listened to their animated conversation. She hoped Trevor would be able to make some friends in Indiana. It might be hard for him. The treatments he faced would keep him isolated for long periods. And the short bristles of hair that had begun growing on his head would soon fall out again. Cory didn’t care how Trevor looked, but other kids might be leery if his appearance was so drastically different than a healthy kid’s.
As the van turned onto Danielle’s road, a line of unfamiliar cars parked along the street in front of her house came into view. “What is all that?” she wondered aloud.
A grin stretched across Janna’s face. “I invited a few people to come help us with the heavy lifting.”
Danielle stared at the cars, then turned to her friend. “Who? Who would come help me?”
They pulled into the driveway behind the moving truck. Mack, who had taken the day off work to help, picked up the moving truck while Janna chauffeured Danielle around on last-minute errands. There, carrying couches and mattresses out of her house, were half a dozen men. Several women toted boxes and set them in neat stacks just beyond the truck where they’d be easy to grab and tuck into the spaces between the larger items. Those with empty hands stopped to smile and wave at them as they parked.
Trevor and Cory spilled out of the van. One of them shouted, “Tag, you’re it!” and they both took off running across the yard. Several children darted out of the house and joined in the chase.
Danielle sat in her chair, biting her bottom lip and swallowing down the knot in her throat. She’d awakened that morning so tired, weary to the core. The thought of spending the day lugging the total of her worldly possessions out of her house and lifting them into the truck was almost more than she could bear. Knowing that she had no choice was the only reason she’d rolled out of bed at all. Like a fairy godmother, Janna had discerned her deepest wish and granted it. “I needed help so badly, but I was afraid to ask,” Danielle whispered. “I didn’t have anyone to ask but you and Mack. Where did they all come from?”
Janna reached over and patted her leg. “They’re from my church.”
“But they don’t even know me.”
Janna shrugged. “They’ve all had rough times in their lives, so they know what it’s like to need a helping hand. Other people came to their aid in their hour of need, and now they’re passing it forward. That’s what people do. Good, decent people anyway.”
Danielle swiped at the tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t … know what to say.”
Janna laughed. “That’s easy. Just say thank you.”
Drawing a deep breath and wiping away her tears, Danielle climbed out of the van. A moment of shyness passed quickly under the warm greetings and friendly smiles of her helpers. “Thanks so much for coming,” she said to each person she passed, fighting back tears. Her gratitude seemed to please them, and several of the women made a point to hug her. All around her, the moving continued, people working hard but with good humor, despite the heat and humidity of the July afternoon.
After Janna had introduced her and Trevor to each member of the moving crew, Danielle made her way into the house to pack a travel bag for both her and Trevor. They’d need toothbrushes and a change of clothes tonight. She planned to drive as far as she could, then get a hotel room to rest for a few hours. They’d finish the journey tomorrow. By the weekend, they’d be the newest residents of Northwood if all went as planned.
Janna came wandering in, her hair exceptionally unruly in the humidity. The air conditioning in the house had been turned off since the doors were propped open to facilitate the moving. “Mack’s got things under control at the truck, and MaryAnn is keeping an eye on the kids. You need any help in here?”
“I just have a few more things to pack.” She’d boxed up most of her possessions over the last few weeks, but they’d kept out a few personal items they’d used right up to the end. “You can help me dump everything that’s left in these boxes.”
Janna grabbed a container and emptied the linen closet in the bathroom of its last two towels. She tossed a few straggling bottles of lotions and sprays on top, and declared the room empty. They cleared out the bedrooms in a similar fashion, and someone came to collect the boxes.
The truck filled quickly, and as they were carrying out the last load, Mack’s brother showed up with a stack of thin boxes bearing the logo of the local Italian eatery. “Pizza!” he yelled.
The men and women set down their burdens and grabbed slices. They found resting places on the steps, the bumper of the truck, and even the lawn, and soon Danielle’s front yard was a banquet hall, filled with smiles and laughter and the easy conversation of long-time friends. Danielle felt like she’d been thrust into a family reunion … with a warm, loving family that got along well and truly enjoyed one another’s company. She felt a twinge of regret that she’d never accepted one of Janna’s invitations to attend a church function with her. Maybe she would have enjoyed being part of this group, and Trevor seemed to like the other kids.
When the pizza had been properly appreciated and consumed, the movers pushed to their feet and made quick work of finishing up the last of the loading. Mack slid the truck’s large door closed as the tired workers milled around the yard, chatting and saying their goodbyes. One of the older women drifted to Danielle’s side and gave her a motherly hug. “I’m heading home, dear, but I want you to know I’ll be praying for your boy. God bless you both.”
She’d heard Christian platitudes spoken all her life and usually felt irritation when she heard them, but coming from this woman’s lips, Danielle found the familiar phrases genuine and warm. Why? What was different about this woman, and all Janna’s church friends, that made Danielle like them and want to be in their company? Something about the genuineness of these people disarmed her preconceptions about “religious people," made their beliefs less threatening, the painful memories of her early religious experiences less acute. They skipped the sermons and condemning words and simply showed God’s love with their actions, which made all the difference. A tiny spark of hope flickered in Danielle’s heart. She admired a faith like this woman had, like Janna’s and Mack’s and all these people here. Maybe she could even embrace it.
Janna looked pleased when Danielle smiled and hugged the woman back, thanking her for coming to her aid and for her continued prayers.
Others came to speak with her then, with similar well-wishes, saying their goodbyes as they drifted toward their vehicles. The cars parked along the street trickled away, taking the laughter and merriment with them. Only Janna, Mack, and Cory remained, surrounded by the heaviness of the goodbyes that had to be said.
Janna knelt and called Trevor to her side. “Give me a hug, tiger.” She opened her arms, and he bounded into them, returning her embrace with a wide smile.
The pain that sliced through Danielle’s middle was unexpected. When she’d made the decision to move, leaving her home and friends behind, a small ache of grief had lodged in her stomach. But now the moment to part ways had come, and she felt a tearing inside that made it hard to breathe. She wrapped her arms across her middle and hugged herself tight, pressing back against the hurt.
Trevor pulled away from Janna and latched onto Mack’s waist. “Bye, Mack!”
Mack pulled off Trevor’s ball cap and rubbed his hand playfully over Trevor’s fuzz-covered head. “Be good for your mom, kiddo.”
Trevor nodded, then darted away, grabbing Cory’s sleeve as he passed, pulling his friend into one last chase around the yard.
Danielle stared at Janna and Mack, heart aching and eyes brimming with tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but a little sob worked its way into her throat and came out like a hiccup.
Janna’s face crumpled with concern. “Hey, this is just a temporary goodbye,” she said, with an exasperated laugh. “We’ll see each other again soon.” But then she was tearing up too, and they ended up
hugging and sobbing on each other’s shoulders.
Mack backed away, his face wary, as if afraid he might get pulled into an estrogen moment and do something that violated his manly code of conduct. Looking over Janna’s shoulder, Danielle caught his deer-in-headlights look and her sob came out sounding almost like a laugh. Janna followed the direction of Danielle’s gaze and rolled her eyes. “Mack’s gonna miss you a lot, Danielle. He’s going to have to listen to me talk more now that you won’t be around to absorb some of my chatter.” Mack faked a shudder and they all laughed.
Danielle swallowed hard and managed to find her voice. “I can never thank you two enough for all the help you’ve given me. And I’ll never be able to replace such great friends.”
“So don’t replace us,” Janna said with a shrug. “Keep us. We’ll call and e-mail, okay?”
Danielle nodded and gave Janna one more quick hug. Being so far apart wouldn’t be the same, but she’d take what she could get.
She stepped back and wiped the tears from her face. “I guess it’s time to go.” She reached for the numbness that so often blanketed her pain and let it shield her aching heart again. “Trevor, we need to get on the road.”
He moaned his complaint and made a sour face.
“Cory, come give me a hug!” Danielle ordered, leaning down and holding out her arms. He darted into them, laughing and squeezing her hard.
Mack took Trevor’s hand and helped him climb into the high cab of the moving truck, while Janna followed Danielle to the driver-side door. “Call as soon as you know where you’ll be staying. I want your address and phone number.”
“I’ll check e-mail at the library until I can get my computer set up somewhere.”
They stood there quietly, as if waiting for the invisible bonds that held them together to loosen and make it a little easier to go. Realizing it wasn’t going to happen, Danielle shrugged her shoulders, her mouth pinched in a tight line as she fought another welling of regret. She yanked open the big truck door and climbed up into the seat before she broke down and had to gather her hard-won composure all over again.