On the way home, Joshua considered Seth’s offer for help. He knew he’d get a glowing recommendation from him, and possibly some contacts at other ministries, but other than that there wasn’t much he—or anyone, really—could do. He and Maddie were past the meal phase, though the casseroles they’d stashed from friends and neighbors had lasted them nearly two months. He was also past the shoulder-to-cry-on stage, at least in the eyes of the people around them. Apparently six months was considered long enough for mourning the death of your wife.
Lost in thought, he almost missed the driveway to the day care center. When he entered Maddie’s room she tossed down the doll she was dressing and jumped into his outstretched arms. He held her little frame tightly, reveling in the scent of baby shampoo that still lingered in her hair from last night’s bath, aching for the hole in her life where a mother was supposed to be. Please, God. Help me.
“Logan called me a poopyhead today at snack.”
Joshua bit back a smile as he buckled her into the carseat. “Uh-oh. What did you do?”
“I told him that was mean and that he should apologize—”
“Good for you.”
“—and that he was poopyhead infinity.”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle that time. “Sweetheart, do you even know what infinity is?”
Her brown eyes blinked up at him. “No, but Serena says it all the time.”
He laughed as he shut her door and turned on the car. “It means something that goes on forever.”
“Oh. Poopyhead forever!” She giggled and Joshua rolled his eyes as he backed out of the parking space.
“Anything else exciting happen today?”
“No. I want hamburgers for dinner. Can we get some from Rudy’s?”
He hesitated, knowing that money was going to be much tighter than it had ever been. But why not one last hurrah? “Sure. And Rice Dream for dessert?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Her sneakered feet kicked the back of his seat as she began to sing along with the children’s worship music that was their standard driving soundtrack. Joshua smiled at her in the rearview mirror but the gesture was missed—her eyes were fixed out the window, watching the snowy world pass by.
They ate their burgers in their favorite booth at Rudy’s, Maddie peppering their conversation with her preschool knowledge and a barrage of obscure questions. Afterwards, they walked to Sweet-Please, where she chose her usual bag of gummy bears and ate them one color at a time on the way home. These little capsules of normality were becoming more frequent, a phenomenon he’d noticed a couple weeks ago but now feared losing again when the severance pay ran out.
A couple hours later he sat alone in his home office, the baby monitor crackling occasionally with Maddie’s shuffling in her toddler bed. He turned his Rolodex slowly, checking each name and wracking his brain for the connections they might have to help him find new employment. He couldn’t afford to be picky right now. Anyone who might have any kind of connection—or even know someone who might have a connection—to a company or ministry in need of accountants was worth considering.
The one name that was not in the Rolodex was the one he knew would be the most helpful—in theory, anyway. He said another prayer, hoping he wouldn’t become desperate enough to consider asking his father-in-law, George Michalson, for advice. He knew George would be more than willing to help him, but it was the strings Joshua knew would be attached that kept him from making the call.
“God, I need a break here,” he muttered as he set the Rolodex aside. “We’ve been through so much already—Maddie especially. If I didn’t have her it wouldn’t be so bad, but God…”
His eyes caught the picture of his daughter smiling at him from the frame on his desk. She’d been having a great couple days, but then, just before bed, had broken down in tears when Joshua had bungled the order of her bedtime routine. “Mommy never forgot!” she wailed as he cursed his wandering focus. He’d held her and cried with her as they were both overwhelmed once more by the pain of their loss. After finally getting her to sleep with extra lullabies, he’d wandered the house, hungry for a connection with the woman he still loved so deeply, and finding it in all the little objects that resided on bookshelves and end tables: a picture frame from their Maui honeymoon, Maddie’s first year scrapbook, nesting dolls from their Alaskan cruise, and finally, her closet, where her summer clothes still hung. The tears had come once again when he’d buried his nose in a stack of her T-shirts and found her scent was finally gone.
“I’m mentally fried as it is. To add a job search and the stress of the hospital bills on top of it…” He eyed the stack that sat in the tray beside Maddie’s picture. How would he deal with one more crisis?
SOMETHING HAD TO GIVE.
He’d been sitting at this desk for half an hour while Maddie played in the snow outside with a friend. Saturdays were usually daddy-daughter days, but he’d made some excuses and plied her with the promise of an afternoon filled with Disney princess movies to secure some alone time for himself. First he’d worked on his resume and posted it to a couple websites. Now he needed to lay everything out and see exactly where he stood.
The desk was covered with the bills Joshua had been putting off for weeks, now organized into small, neat stacks by type. If he could figure out how to cut some expenses, maybe they’d be alright. They hadn’t been living hand to mouth; his income had allowed them a little wiggle room. Surely there were some luxuries he could sacrifice. But his severance would only cover two months, and though he hadn’t acknowledged it until now, the medical bills had been eating up far more of his paycheck over the last few months than he could afford to spend. He needed to cut back on the nonessentials or risk losing his house.
How ironic. Lara had often talked about simplifying, paring down on their “stuff,” reducing their carbon footprint. He’d always loved that hippie side of her. And now it was happening, and not only would she not be here to see it, but it was her fatal illness that was causing it.
He picked up the one bill that sat alone and opened it. The total, in bold print at the bottom, made him groan aloud.
Lara’s breast cancer looked beatable at the beginning. The doctors threw everything they had at it, and were successful at first. Two months later it resurfaced, but this time in her liver. Again the doctors attacked it with a vengeance, and again they seemed successful. When it showed up in her lymph nodes four months after that, they stopped looking so confident. Their choice of words became more cautious—more ifs than whens, a lot of maybes and way too many we don’t knows. His insurance through the ministry was far from comprehensive, but neither he nor Lara had a family history of major illness so they’d never cared.
What little savings they’d had was gone almost instantly. What was left of the bill rivaled the cost of an Ivy League education.
He wiped a hand over his face and drew a deep breath. “Okay. You can do this, Miller. Simplify, simplify, simplify. Where can you cut back?”
He opened bill after bill, scrutinized each account, categorized each ATM withdrawal and credit card charge. His fingers danced over the calculator’s buttons, and as the next hour ticked away, Joshua came to realize there was not much he could do. In fact, there was only one thing that would make the kind of difference he needed to make.
He set down the calculator and stared out the window. Maddie and her playmate Julie were knocking down the snowman they’d constructed earlier, running full-tilt and slamming into it, collapsing on their backs in the snow and laughing. Would it be too soon? Would it be too much change? He sat back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a slow breath. “It’s the only way I see, God. Please show me something else—if there is something else. But if there isn’t…help her to adapt.” Don’t make it be the reason she needs therapy at thirty. He sat quietly, waiting to see if God offered anything up. All he could hear was the girls’ laughter. He closed his checkbook, put the calculator back in the drawer, and went to the kitchen to make the
girls a snack and figure out how to tell Maddie they were moving.
JOSHUA AND MADDIE SAT ALONE at the kitchen table. Julie had gone home, much to Maddie’s consternation, and now Joshua was looking for the right time to break the news.
“I love the snow.” Maddie sat up on her knees and sipped her hot chocolate almond milk. Her nose and cheeks still glowed from the cold, and wet tendrils of her brown hair curled around her ears.
“I could tell. That was quite a snowman you and Julie built.”
“Did you see us knock it down?” Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “We ran into it and bam! We fell back. It was hilarious.” Hilarious was her new favorite word. She’d been using it indiscriminately for days.
“I did see that. Pretty cool.” Joshua took a sip from his mug, then shot a quick prayer to God for Maddie’s response. “So I was thinking about something today, Mads. You know how we sometimes get sad because something here in the house will remind us of Mom?”
The light died in her eyes and she sat back on her heels. “Yeah. Like the rocking chair.”
“Right. The curtains always make me think of her, because she spent so much time making them.”
“Or the burn spot on the carpet in the living room.”
That made Joshua smile. It had been the result of a candle toppled from the end table while she’d been dancing the polka to amuse a sick, couch-ridden Lara. That memory made Maddie smile as well. “I was thinking today that maybe you and I should find a place to live that doesn’t have so many memories. It might make it easier, not having so many things to remind us, you know?”
He watched her, ready to backpedal if he saw panic in her features. Her eyes stayed glued to the napkin in her hand that she’d balled and twisted and then begun to shred. “So we wouldn’t bring our stuff with us?”
“Oh! No, no—we’d bring our furniture, and pictures, and clothes. We wouldn’t be leaving all our Mommy memories behind. We’d just be going somewhere new, where we can make new memories and decorate things differently. We could make you a princess bedroom, for example.”
“Can’t we do that here?”
He winced. “Well, technically, yes, we could.” He was at a loss. God, help me! “But you and I don’t need all this space, all these rooms, all this stuff. I promise we’ll take anything you want to bring. But I just thought a change of scenery might do us both some good.”
Maddie patted the little mound of napkin pieces she’d created. “Would I still be able to see Gramma and Grampa?”
“Of course.” Unfortunately. “I wasn’t thinking of moving far away. Just to a different neighborhood. But still in Ann Arbor. We could even drive back over here and have playdates with Julie.”
“Can she come visit us?”
“Sure. And maybe we’ll meet some new kids too.” God, let there be kids there, wherever “there” is, that Maddie gets along with and that aren’t a bad influence. “So…what do you think?”
She shrugged. “I guess it would be okay.”
Joshua leaned over and wrapped his daughter in a bear hug. “Maddie, you are my hero.”
She giggled. “No Daddy, I’m your princess.”
“Yes, that too.”
“Can I paint my room pink?”
“Sure.”
“And gold?”
“Um, maybe.”
Her eyes lit up again and his heart melted. “How about pink and gold and glitter! Glitter in the paint!”
He laughed. “How about pink walls with a gold-framed mirror and I’ll let you paint glitter on your curtains and dresser?”
“Deal.”
Joshua heaved a sign of relief as Maddie skipped off to pick her promised princess movie. Pink, gold, and glitter were a small price to pay. Thank you.
“SO WHEN WERE YOU HOPING TO LIST?”
Joshua shrugged. “I don’t know—soon, I guess.” Scott fixed him with a dubious stare. “And you’re sure you have to do this? The market right now—”
Joshua ran a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. The timing couldn’t be worse. That house down the street has been for sale for over a year—and it’s the same floor plan as ours. But seriously, I have no choice. Unless I land a job in the next month, I’m in trouble. My resume is out there, but I know how things are right now—no one is hiring. My severance won’t last long with the medical bills.” Scott looked around the living room. “Well, you guys did a good job on this place. I’ve been in that house down the street—yours will definitely show better. And at least you shouldn’t have a problem finding a new place, given all the stuff on the market.” “I’ll start looking this week. Between that and the job—” “I still can’t believe that. I’m so sorry. Wanna become a realtor?” Scott grinned. “I’ll hire you to my firm as soon as you get your license. Teach you everything I know.”
Joshua laughed. “Too old to teach this dog any new tricks, sorry. Just keep your ears open for me.”
“Will do.”
Maddie tore into the living room from the kitchen. “Gramma and Grampa are here!”
Joshua’s stomach turned to lead. “What?” Maddie sped past him to the door and he looked to his friend. “Not a word about the move.”
“My lips are sealed.”
Both men stood and Scott picked up his coat. “I’ll give you a call this week.”
“Thanks. Say a prayer about—”
“Why is there a realtor’s car in the driveway?” Alisha Michal-son’s brash voice preceded her. She appeared a few seconds later through the front door, holding Maddie’s hand. “And why is this child outside without a coat? She’s going to catch her death of cold.”
Maddie’s eyes bulged. Joshua bit back a sharp rebuke and kept his features neutral for his daughter’s sake. “It’s just a saying, Maddie, she didn’t really mean it.” Nice choice of words Alisha. Thanks. “She just ran out to meet you, that’s all. And Scott is just a friend.” He made introductions and exchanged knowing looks with Scott as he scooted past Joshua’s in-laws and out the door. Joshua had forgotten the decal on Scott’s rear windshield that advertised his real estate firm. Not that it mattered, since he hadn’t told Maddie not to mention the move, and it was only a matter of time before—
“Guess what? We’re gonna get a new house!”
And there it is.
“What? What’s this?” Alisha’s stare bore down on Joshua with the weight of an anvil.
“We’re moving. Not far, don’t worry, just to a smaller place that we can make our own, right Maddie?”
“I’m getting a pink princess room.” She hopped in place with giddy excitement, and Joshua smiled and thanked God for her positive attitude.
“Stop jumping, Madeline, it’s not ladylike.” Alisha reached into her pocket and pulled out a 3 Musketeers bar. “That’s for you, darling. Why don’t you go enjoy that in your bedroom and let us talk to your daddy, okay?”
Maddie held the candy bar reverently in her hands, but Joshua reached over and gently took it. “How about we trade this in for some chocolate Rice Dream, kiddo?”
“Okay!”
“You just take our gift from her?” George said, his arthritis-gnarled hands balled into fists on his hips.
“You guys know she’s allergic to milk. Why do you keep bringing things she can’t have?”
“That’s ridiculous, you can’t be allergic to milk. You made this up to be difficult and you know it.”
Lord, give me strength and love and patience and please don’t let me go off on them. “We’ve had this discussion before, there’s no point in having it again.” He tried to keep his tone even, to not let the irritation he felt with their unexpected arrival and general sour dispositions color his words. He ushered everyone into the kitchen, then scooped some Rice Dream into a bowl and gave it to Maddie with a kiss on the forehead. “Let me know right away if you spill so I can clean it up, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy. Thank you.” Cradling the bowl close, Maddie disappeared down the hall, leaving Joshua to d
efend their castle against the enemy. The three adults moved into the family room adjacent to the kitchen.
“You always make us look bad in front of her.” Alisha dropped her ample body into the sofa, which creaked a complaint. George lowered himself into the recliner and waved Alisha’s accusation away. “Never mind that. What’s this about moving? When did you plan on letting us in on the secret? Or did you hope to slip out without us knowing?”
Joshua sank into an armchair and answered after breathing two slow, measured breaths. “I just decided last night. It’s difficult for Maddie and me to be here when everything reminds us of Lara. We don’t need this much space, the mortgage is a bit more than I want to handle right now, and I thought it would be a good time to take another step towards moving on with our lives.”
“Moving on?” Alisha laid a hand on her heart. “You’re just going to sweep every memory of Lara right out of Madeline’s head, aren’t you?”
“No, Alisha, of course not. I’m not—”
“Will you get rid of all your furniture, all your pictures?”
“No—”
“Then how will moving help you to move on? That’s nonsense. What’s the real reason? You were going to go out of state, weren’t you? To Maine, I’ll bet—to that dumpy little town you came from. Lara told us how you wanted to move back there.”
Joshua took another deep breath. “No. I was not planning on moving to Maine. Maddie’s been through enough without me uprooting her from the only community she’s ever known. We’re staying here in Ann Arbor. She’ll still go to the same preschool. We’ll still see her friends here. We’re just downsizing.”
George’s eyes narrowed at him, and Joshua tried not to flinch. “Bills eating up your finances, eh?”
Joshua sighed. “Yes, they are.”
“You know we could help—”
“I know you could, George, and I appreciate it, I really do.” But you couldn’t pay me enough to be in your debt. “I think this move will really help.”
The Weight of Shadows Page 2