“Dad went to work?”
“Yes. I told him he’s going to have to cut his own pay if he didn’t.” Jack nodded, then his eyes wandered around the study. “What’s on your mind, Jack?”
“I don’t know if I should say.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t concerned about you. Mine’s pretty minor compared to cancer.”
“I would love to talk about something else,” Bobbi said. She pushed herself up to sit on the love seat.
“Well then, I think I might go to law school.” He looked just like Chuck when he grinned.
Bobbi smiled broadly. “Really?”
“That’s not funny, is it? ’Cause I’m serious about it.”
“Just ironic. Brad gave up law school for seminary, and here you are giving up seminary for law school.”
“Well, I’m not entirely sure I’m giving up seminary, exactly.”
“You’re going to do both?”
“Maybe.”
“Then what?”
“Religious freedom advocacy law,” Jack said with a nod of his head at the end.
“How long have you been thinking about this?”
“How long have I been at work?” He checked his watch.
“This just all came together, then?”
“Yeah, it was crazy. I didn’t sleep last night.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you about the cancer.”
“Yes, you should have, but it’s a lot to think about. Anyway, I was reading Brad’s notebooks, which was a brilliant idea, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.”
“He had this entry after he read at the end of John where Jesus tells Peter not to worry about what anybody else is called to do. That’s what settled him on seminary. It was like a lightning bolt, Mom.” He slammed his fist into his open palm. “I can’t follow Brad any more than he could follow Dad and Grandpa Jim. It’s not what I’m supposed to do. Then I kinda slept on it.”
“And woke up to law school?”
“Yep, I reckon lawyerin’s in my blood,” Jack drawled. Bobbi rolled her eyes at him. “I couldn’t get it out of my head today. That has to be it. What do you think Dad will say?”
“He’ll be thrilled. He could use some good news.”
“Yeah,” Jack said. He drummed his hands on the desk. “I’m gonna go do some research online and see what I’m in for.”
“Aunt Rita’s bringing dinner tonight about six.”
“Outstanding!” Jack said as he stood up. He kissed Bobbi on the cheek and headed up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time.
Bobbi set her coffee cup on the desk and closed her eyes for a moment. Jack was back. Just to see him excited and animated, with something to shoot for, was priceless. He could lift her spirits in a way that no one else could. Maybe God knew that a long time ago when He brought Jack to them. Maybe God knew in the middle of all these disasters how much she would need Jack.
* * *
Promptly at six o’clock, the Molinskys’ doorbell rang. Bobbi roused herself from the love seat, but before she could slip on her shoes and answer the door, she heard Jack tromp down the stairs. “My favorite aunt,” he said.
“I’m your only aunt, and you’re not getting any samples.” Rita jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow as she passed, all the while carrying a deep dish with potholders.
“That cuts deep,” Jack said.
“I’ve seen it all before. Joel was the worst.”
“Is there more to bring in?”
“Gavin may need a hand.” Jack trotted outside to help.
“It smells wonderful,” Bobbi said. “Roast?”
“Actually it’s stew,” Rita said. “Just the thing you want in the middle of summer when it’s ninety-five degrees outside.”
“That’s why we have air conditioning. Come on back.” She led Rita back to the kitchen, where she set the dish on the counter. “Chuck set the dining room table, so we can have a real dinner.”
“Gavin’s bringing the bread and a cobbler.”
“Blackberry?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. Chuck and the ki—, and Jack have been deprived this summer. I don’t think they’ve had decent dessert in months.”
“I’m glad you finally let me do something.”
“I know,” Bobbi said, dropping her eyes.
“So you rested?”
“Yeah, I spent the afternoon on the love seat. Anesthesia wipes me out.”
“There’s more than just anesthesia at work,” Rita muttered.
Before Bobbi could defend herself, Gavin and Jack came in the kitchen with Chuck close behind. Everyone pitched in, and they got the food and the drinks to the table quickly and settled in for the meal. Gavin and Rita managed to keep the conversation moving, steering it toward lighthearted subjects like Cardinals baseball and the recent Heatley family reunion. Bobbi didn’t say much, but she worked to stay engaged.
Rita brewed a pot of coffee before serving the cobbler. Then with the dessert finished, she cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. “I didn’t know I was getting a full service meal,” Bobbi said, following her sister into the kitchen.
“It’s the least I could do.” Rita quickly wiped the countertop and began wrapping up the leftover bread. “You seem amazingly calm. Is that for real?”
“I’m coping.”
Rita turned and faced her. “You’re lying.”
“Rita, not now.” Not this fight. It took all her energy to convince Chuck she was okay. But Rita wouldn’t relent.
“I think you were already drowning and somebody just threw you an anchor.”
Bobbi folded her arms across her chest, taking care not to touch the incision spot. How could she respond without telling a shameless lie?
“I suspected as much,” Rita said quietly. “You can’t fight this cancer unless you are mentally and emotionally prepared.”
“I understand that.”
“Then what can I do to help you?”
She couldn’t make them understand—that question didn’t have an answer anymore. “Chuck asked me the same thing.”
“And you won’t answer him, either. So you’re not going to church, and I’ll bet you haven’t touched your Bible in the last month.”
“I think I’m beyond simple platitudes.”
“You can’t shut yourself off from the only one who can fix it.”
“Fix it! God caused this. There’s nothing for Him to fix.”
“God is not like that. You know this. You’ve seen it yourself.” Rita pointed at her in a rebuke Bobbi wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else. “You are so consumed by what you feel, you’ve lost sight of what you know is true.”
Before Bobbi could answer, Gavin came in the kitchen. “Rita, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, we’re finished.” Her eyes lingered on Bobbi’s an instant too long before she punched the start button on the dishwasher. “I’ll leave the rest of the cobbler.”
“Thanks,” Bobbi said without making eye contact. Gavin hugged her before following Rita out of the kitchen. Once they were gone, Bobbi got a cup and emptied the coffeepot into it. None of them could see. They had no idea how much she hurt. Brad was snatched away in the prime of his life. She couldn’t just pick up and go on. It wasn’t that simple.
And Shannon. As much as she loved Shannon, it hadn’t been enough. Her daughter chose God-only-knows-what over home and family. If Shannon would just let them know she was okay . . .
Bobbi sighed and took a long drink from her coffee. She always felt like raising her children was her mission in life, but with two gone and the other two grown, was cancer a sign that she’d done her job? She finished off her coffee and even though it was just after eight o’clock, she headed up to bed.
* * *
“I can’t thank you guys enough,” Chuck said as he walked Gavin and Rita out to their car. “That was almost miraculous. Bobbi took
part in the conversation and seemed to enjoy herself. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her like that.”
“You’re welcome,” Rita said. She glanced at Gavin, then looked Chuck in the eyes. “I know you want to believe that, that Bobbi is coming around, that the grief is lifting, but it’s not.”
“But she got up this morning and made breakfast.”
“Even so. Whether she’s pretending for your benefit or whether you just don’t want to see what’s there, she is teetering on the edge.”
Tears formed in Chuck’s eyes. Rita was right, completely, unequivocally right. He leaned over the hood of the Heatleys’ car. “I don’t know what else to do for her. Am I supposed to make her talk to me? Or drag her to a doctor? Hospitalize her against her will? I’m out of ideas.”
“What about Jack?” Gavin asked. “Could he get through to her?”
“Jack doesn’t try to get through to her. That’s why she still talks to him.”
“Bobbi is a remarkable woman of deep, tested faith,” Gavin said. “God will let her wrestle until she’s exhausted, then He’ll show Himself.”
“I hope you’re right,” Chuck said, turning back toward the house.
“He’s always right,” Rita said, then she smiled. “I hate that.”
As the Heatleys pulled away, Chuck walked slowly back toward the house, pausing just before he stepped inside. He raised his eyes to the limitless expanse of sky, softly lit by the fading sunlight. “Lord, You can intervene just any time now.”
He walked inside and took the stairs two at a time, then pushed the bedroom door open. Bobbi lay on the bed, covers pulled just up to her knees. He walked over and stretched the blanket over her. She breathed deeply but didn’t stir. The bottle of prescription painkillers sat on the nightstand. Chuck opened it and counted the pills. Six. The same six they left the pharmacy with. She hadn’t taken any.
Ashamed for even suspecting her, he recapped the bottle and put it back on the nightstand. Bobbi had had a long, difficult day. She’d get back on track soon.
He headed downstairs to clean up the kitchen, but Rita had taken care of everything, so he wandered into the study. The study was the best room in the house, and the love seat was the best piece of furniture he and Bobbi ever bought. On the opposite side of the house from the family room and the television, it was a refuge for them individually and as a couple. He switched on the floor lamp and dropped onto the love seat.
On the bookshelf sat a small plaque someone had given him. “For I know the plans that I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.” He leaned his head back and rubbed his eyes.
“It sure doesn’t look that way right now, God. All I can see is calamity.”
He sighed and bowed his head. Wherever Shannon is tonight, keep her safe. Let her know we love her, and that we want her home, that she can come home. At least, Father, let us hear from her. That would help Bobbi out so much just to know something.
“Dad? You got a minute?” Jack stood just inside the doorway of the study.
“Yeah, come on in.” Chuck sat up a little straighter on the love seat, and Jack pulled the desk chair over. “What’s up?”
“Well, you know I’ve been kinda lost since Brad died, not really sure what I was supposed to do next?”
“You found something?”
“You’re gonna ruin the story,” Jack said with mock aggravation. “I had lunch with Mom a couple of weeks ago, and she said I should read through Brad’s notebooks to see how he decided to drop out of law school and go to seminary.” Jack slapped his thighs and grinned. “I think I want to go to law school, Dad.”
“Are you serious?” Chuck asked, breaking into a wide smile himself.
“Yeah, but I think I still want to go to seminary, too. I’d like to defend religious freedoms. You know, fight for kids’ rights to say prayers at graduation and stuff like that.”
“We need lawyers like that. I think that’s a tremendous decision.”
“Mom said you’d be happy.”
“She’s pretty sharp. You know I can probably get you a better summer job than the sporting goods store.”
“At your place? I’m not qualified.”
“What’s your last name?” Chuck asked, and Jack smiled. “See, you’re qualified.”
“Thanks.” He stood up and slid the chair back under the desk. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know.”
“You’re not keeping me.”
“Well, truth is, the Cards are on. I’m gonna pop some popcorn and watch the rest of the game. You wanna watch, too?”
“I’ll be right there.” Jack nodded and headed for the kitchen. Once he was gone, Chuck pointed to the ceiling. “Hope. Thank you.”
* * *
On the other side of town, Shannon Molinsky locked her apartment door, dropped her purse on the floor and collapsed on her sofa, exhausted. This was her fourth fourteen-hour day in a row.
She volunteered for as many overtime shifts as she could get, not really for the extra money, although that came in very handy. She needed to fill the empty hours. That’s when the homesickness became almost unbearable, but she couldn’t stand the thoughts of facing her mother and admitting what she’d done, seeing the quiet disappointment in her mother’s eyes. Rebelling against her dad had been bad enough, but the other . . .
No, staying invisible was the best plan for now. No one she knew would be staying at a hotel here in town, especially one with a casino. Even if the guests saw her, they didn’t acknowledge her presence. She had dropped off the face of the earth.
So far, she hadn’t figured out how to get word to her family without tipping them off about where to find her. If her dad knew where she was, he’d be down here in two seconds to take her home. She sighed deeply. Sometimes, that’s what she wanted more than anything.
Chapter 14
Pronouncement
EIGHT WEEKS LATER
Saturday, September 20
Chuck slouched on the sofa in the family room, remote in hand, trying to concentrate on the Missouri Tigers game. Bobbi was around somewhere, the kitchen or the study he guessed, but if he tried to get close, she would slip away to a different room.
When the biopsy confirmed her cancer, they shuttled through a revolving door of doctors, tests and follow-ups. Then she decided she wanted a second opinion. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the oncologist Dr. Karsten had recommended, she said, she simply wanted to be sure they had all the information on all the options available to them. He suspected it was a stall tactic. With the next chosen oncologist out of town, she had another week.
Since Jack had returned to college, she had merely haunted their house, an apparition who passed through the hallways in silence. Chuck began working from home, alternating mornings and afternoons at the office just to be near her. He cooked for her, cajoled her to eat and handled the laundry. To shield her from the endless no’s, he picked up the routine of calling Shannon’s friends each week.
He asked her, begged her, to tell him what he could do to snap her out of this, and each time she’d press her lips together and drop her eyes but never utter a word.
Missouri scored a touchdown, and he closed his eyes. Wonder if he could convince Bobbi to ride over to Columbia to see Jack tomorrow? He heard a rustle and opened one eye. Bobbi! Sitting in the easy chair across from him.
“How much time is left?” she asked.
“Oh, about a quarter and a half. Why?”
“I thought we might drive out to the lake after the game.”
Chuck couldn’t click off the television quickly enough. “Look at that. Game’s over.”
“Let me get my shoes.” She left, found her shoes and met Chuck in the entry hall.
“What brought this on?” he asked.
“Seemed like the right day for it.”
Chuck held the door for his wife and locked up behind her. The afternoon sun shone brightly, the sk
y was deep blue and the leaves were just starting to change colors. A perfect fall day. Once out on two-lane roads, he rolled the car windows down so they could smell the fresh air.
Dixson Lake had always been one of their favorite spots. Their first date had been a picnic by the lake. They got engaged there on a moonlit night under the stars. Bobbi chose the lake each time she told him he was going to be a daddy. Years ago, when they were separated, Bobbi began the healing process for her and for them there on the boat ramp on Thanksgiving afternoon. Maybe that’s what she had in mind.
She made casual conversation on the drive out, asking him about work, about the baseball standings, and relaying Rita’s plans for Gavin’s upcoming birthday. He was tempted to pull over and stare at her. He wanted to touch her and prove to himself that she was real.
“I’ll just park at the boat ramp,” he said, “unless you wanna try somewhere else.”
“We can get to the trails from there, can’t we?”
“Yeah, two or three of them start here.” He pulled into a parking place. Several other vehicles were there, many with trailers, evidence of how many people were taking advantage of the beautiful Saturday afternoon.
“It’s more crowded than I expected,” she said as she got out of the car.
“Is that bad?”
“Well . . .”
“You want to go to the other side of the lake?”
“No, this is fine.”
Chuck locked the car, and taking his wife’s hand, they started on one of the hiking trails. She had a plan. He couldn’t read her mind, but every step was confident, purposeful. “How many times do you think we’ve been here?” he asked.
“Counting before we got married? Three or four dozen, I guess.”
“There were a lot of years we never made it out.”
“The workaholic years?”
Chuck scowled. “I’ve outgrown all that.”
“Yes, you have. You’ve come quite a long way in these thirty-eight years.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series Page 15