“A lot,” Amy admitted. “Ever since I was a little girl.”
“I knew it.” Natalie clapped her hands together. “I’ve always thought you were hiding a big piece of your heart from me. I didn’t want to be nosy, but there was something going on with you I couldn’t quite put my finger on.”
The teapot whistled, and Natalie left the table to make the tea. She had her back to Amy, who looked at her friend and debated whether to open up to her about the living room. Natalie returned to the table with tea bags steeping in two cups.
“The titles and themes for both of my books came to me in dreams,” Amy said.
Natalie’s eyes widened. And throwing caution to the wind, Amy told her about the living room. There was a surprising sense of freedom in baring her soul. Natalie listened in silence until Amy reached the part about the dreams returning after she committed her heart to the Lord at the summer camp during high school. A tear rolled down Natalie’s cheek.
“What’s wrong?” Amy stopped, fearing she’d overstepped her bounds.
“Nothing. It’s so beautiful. The way God has shown his love to you is unbelievable.”
“Which is one reason I’ve kept it to myself. Jeff knows about the dreams but doesn’t bug me about them, and my mother never brings them up. I’m sure she secretly hopes they’ve stopped.”
“I’m sorry.” Natalie shook her head.
“Why?”
“That you’ve been hurt over something wonderful that you couldn’t control. You were an innocent child who received a great gift from a loving heavenly Father.”
Now it was Amy’s turn to become teary. She grabbed a soft paper napkin from a holder in the center of the table and touched it to her right eye. The two women sat in silence for a few moments.
“Tell me about the books,” Natalie said.
It took several minutes for Amy to tell her about the role the dreams had in creating her books.
“That gives me chill bumps,” Natalie said, rubbing her arms. “To know that your books are based on Bible verses you heard directly from God is awesome.”
“Don’t get too carried away. My novels aren’t written in red letters.”
“I know, but it’s the closest to that sort of thing I’ve ever known. It makes sense now why what you’ve written could touch me so deeply. It came from a secret place in your heart and can go to the same place inside a reader.”
“That’s exactly my prayer.” Amy smiled. “And you’ve given me more encouragement sitting at this table than I’ve received in my whole life.”
“It’s about time!” Natalie exclaimed. She paused and took a sip of tea. “How often do you go to the living room now?”
“I had a God dream the night before we met at the coffee shop and another last night.”
Amy suddenly stopped and stared at a vase of flowers in the center of the table. It was a colorful arrangement of irises and dahlias surrounded by greenery.
“What?” Natalie asked.
Amy spoke slowly. “Last night I saw a vase of flowers that looked exactly like those and heard the words from 1 Peter 1:24–25: ‘All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever.’”
Natalie rubbed her arms again. “Quit giving me goose bumps.”
“Were those flowers here when I came by last weekend to drop off the hand-me-down clothes from Ian for Ben?” Amy asked. “Maybe what I saw in the dream was a snapshot memory.”
“That’s impossible. I bought them yesterday. Why do you think you would hear that verse and see a vase of flowers from my house?”
Amy shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been asking the Lord to give me the idea for a new novel. A story with flowers in it would be—”
“One with a wedding,” Natalie interjected immediately.
“I like that.” Amy nodded, then paused as her face became serious. “Or a funeral. The verse mentions how the grass withers and the flowers fall. That speaks more about death than life.”
Natalie wiggled in her chair. “That sent the wrong kind of chills down my arms.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I understand a story has to be sad before it can be happy. That’s why people keep reading—to find out how problems are solved, people changed, and dangers overcome. What would the title be?”
Amy thought for a moment. “Fading Flowers might work. Or The Flowers of the Field. That sounds less ominous.”
“I like the second one better.”
“Whether it’s a wedding, a funeral, or both, there has to be more to it,” Amy said. “If these verses have anything to do with my next book, I’m going to need a lot of insight before I start writing.”
“What if the verse and vase don’t have anything to do with a new novel?” Natalie asked.
“Of course, that’s possible,” Amy replied. “Most of the dreams aren’t related to my writing.”
“Exactly.” Natalie leaned forward. “You dreamed about the vase of flowers and then saw it the next day. What if the Lord starts showing you what is about to happen even more clearly than the warning about Noah’s field trip? It’s an interesting thought, isn’t it?”
Amy felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
“Natalie, I wouldn’t want the responsibility that would come with that kind of information.”
“Which is why God could trust you with it. A person who’s curious might misuse—”
“Stop!” Amy said with more force than she intended. “Don’t say another word!”
Natalie shut her mouth and gave Amy a wounded look.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off,” Amy said.
“It was just a thought that popped into my head,” Natalie said quietly. “Don’t take me too seriously.”
“And I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Amy said, “but even the possibility of some kind of window into the future terrifies me.”
A somber mood descended on the two women as they finished their tea. The conversation lagged.
“I ruined the soufflé and our lunch,” Natalie said glumly when Amy got up to leave.
Amy stepped forward and gave her a hug.
“No. The soufflé was delicious, and what kind of friends would we be if all we talked about was silly girl stuff? It helped a lot to be able to tell you about the dreams. It was healthy for me to share with someone I trust.” Amy paused. “But please don’t say anything to Luke, okay?”
Natalie crossed her heart with her finger. “I promise. And if you like, the next time we get together the only topic for discussion will be nail polish.”
six
As she loaded the dishwasher after supper, Amy looked forward to an evening alone while the rest of the family went to the football game. She put Jeff’s plate of food in the microwave. Megan, who spent a long time in the bathroom after the meal, came downstairs to the kitchen. Upon seeing her, Amy’s immediate reaction was to send her back upstairs to wash her face and start over.
“Why all the makeup?”
“I want to look nice.”
“Don’t you think you overdid it with the green eye shadow and extra eyeliner? I’ve never seen you lay it on so thick.”
“No. I talked to the other girls. We agreed that we don’t want to look like eighth graders.”
Amy couldn’t prevent the transition from middle school to high school, but she didn’t want Megan to rush the process.
“You know how eye shadow fades,” Megan continued. “And it won’t show up when it gets dark.”
“The lights at the football field are bright as day.” Amy paused. “Unless you go behind the stands where it’s dark.”
“Please, Mom. Don’t hassle me. I’m not going behind the stands, and I’m not committing some big sin by wanting to look my best.”
Jeff came into the kitchen from work. His clothes were covered with fine white dust.
“Don’t hug me,” he said to
Amy, holding out his right hand. “And will you bring my robe to the laundry room? I don’t want any of this plaster dust in our bedroom. We had to do extensive wall repair in an upstairs bedroom at the Burris house before we could install the window units.” He glanced at Megan. “What’s with all the sparkly green eye shadow?”
Megan spun around and left the kitchen.
“You came in on the end of our conversation.” Amy pointed at the spot their daughter had vacated. “Megan and her friends are ganging up on us about getting all dolled up, and she played the ‘We’re all doing it card.’ I was trying to decide if fighting excessive makeup was a hill I wanted to die on or not.”
“It’s not worth dying. And I have a surprise of my own. I’m going to take Ian to the Pizza Palace after the game. That way I can see what kind of group Megan and her pals hang out with.”
“She’ll be furious.”
Jeff shrugged. “I have a right to be there with my son. We’ll make sure to sit as far away as we can.”
“She’ll think I put you up to it.”
“And I’ll set her straight if that comes up. It’s important for Megan to know that her father cares about what she does, where she goes, and who she’s with.”
“I wish you weren’t covered with plaster dust,” Amy said.
“Why?”
“Because I’d give you the best hug you’ve had in weeks.”
“Can I save it for after I clean up and change clothes?”
“Yes.”
When Bethany’s mother arrived, Amy and Megan walked outside in silence. The side door of the blue minivan opened so Megan could get in. Amy could see that Bethany was wearing more makeup than Megan, and Crystal, a slender, blond-haired girl with a very pale complexion, had slathered such a mismatched variety of colors on her face that she looked clownish. A stifling cloud of perfume hung heavy inside the vehicle. Amy couldn’t tell if the fragrance was coming from Bethany or Crystal or both. She moved to the driver’s-side window.
“Hey, Barb,” she said to Bethany’s mother. “Thanks so much for taking the girls to the game and out for pizza.”
“You’re welcome,” Barb responded. “I’ll have Megan home around eleven thirty. I’m going to drop the other girls off first.”
“Okay.” Amy lowered her voice to a whisper. “Keep the window cracked. I don’t want you to suffocate.”
Barb rolled her eyes, and Amy glanced in the rear seat one last time. Crystal was turned sideways talking to Megan. An image of Crystal crying and alone with her makeup a mess flashed across Amy’s mind. Barb started to back out of the driveway. Amy took a few steps to keep up with the car.
“Be safe, girls,” she called out. “And stay together!”
Megan gave Amy an exasperated look. Crystal didn’t seem to notice.
After Jeff and Ian left for the game, Amy went upstairs to the writing room. The attic space doubled as her reading and writing spot and private place of prayer. The house was quiet. Amy sat in her chair and watched the Canterbury Lane streetlights wink on. She wanted to relax.
But she couldn’t get her mind off Crystal.
Amy thought about calling the girl’s parents, but what would she tell them? That she had dreams? About the vase of flowers at Natalie’s house? About Noah and the fire truck? She’d never had anything more than a brief conversation with Crystal’s mother and knew nothing about her father. She tried to imagine herself on the phone attempting to explain to Crystal’s mother about the living room.
Amy got up and paced back and forth. Her footsteps caused the thin subfloor to creak and pop. She stared out the window at the darkness descending upon the neighborhood. Leaning her head against the wall, she offered up a silent prayer for help but received no guiding answer. Finally, she sat down and turned on her computer. Opening a private file where she kept a journal, she typed out a brief prayer for Crystal’s safety. Staring at the words, she doubted their efficacy. But it was all she had the courage to do.
Amy went downstairs, ate a snack, and tried to lose herself in a romantic comedy on TV.
Jeff and Ian were the first to arrive home from the football game. Ian bounded into the house, his cheeks red. Jeff trailed behind him.
“Mom, I caught a real football!”
“Tell me about it.”
“It happened when the other team kicked an extra point after a touchdown. Bobby and me were playing behind the goalposts and stopped to watch. The ball came over the fence, and I caught it. I threw it to one of the men in the white-and-black shirts. He told me I had a nice spiral.”
Jeff nodded. “I was in the stands and saw the whole thing. It was a dandy over-the-shoulder catch. Everybody in the stands was giving me a high five and talking about how good Ian is going to be in the future.”
“How was the Pizza Palace?” Amy asked.
“There were a bunch of people there,” Ian said. “Megan was with her friends, but Dad wouldn’t let me go over to where they were sitting.”
“There must have been twenty kids crowded around a table for ten,” Jeff said.
“Crystal was sitting in a boy’s lap while he messed with her hair,” Ian added. “It was gross.”
“Was she okay?” Amy asked, unable to hide her concern. “Did it look like she’d been crying?”
“Who?” Jeff asked.
“Crystal.”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Was she still there when you left?”
“I think so. There was also a boy who was following Megan around like a puppy on a leash.”
“Anybody we know?”
“No.” Jeff shook his head. “But he’s on the junior varsity squad because he was wearing a jersey. They let the boys do that on Friday nights. His number was fifty-four, which means he’s probably a linebacker.”
“Did Megan seem interested in him?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Was she mad when you and Ian showed up?”
“Why would Megan be mad that we went to Pizza Palace?” Ian asked. “I like pizza more than she does.”
“It’s way past your bedtime,” Amy responded. “Take a quick shower, brush your teeth, and put on your pajamas. I’ll be upstairs in ten minutes and expect you to be ready for lights-out.”
Ian ran to the kitchen door, stopped, and looked back at Jeff.
“Thanks for taking me, Dad. It was a blast.”
“You’re welcome,” Jeff replied. “Now, get upstairs.”
“He’ll never forget what happened tonight,” Jeff said as soon as Ian left. “Catching that ball was a thrill. The kicker for Loudon County really had a strong leg. He also kicked a forty-two-yard field goal. That doesn’t happen much at the high school level.”
“And you’re sure Crystal was fine when you left the pizza place?”
“Other than looking and acting like a fool. Did you see how much makeup she had on? I know you were upset with Megan, but there was no comparison between her and the other girls.” Jeff paused. “Why are you so interested in Crystal?”
Amy bit her lip and didn’t answer.
After Ian was tucked into bed, Amy and Jeff waited in the kitchen for Megan to come home. The clock ticked past 11:30 p.m. Jeff yawned for the third time in less than a minute.
“You can go upstairs if you’re tired,” Amy said. “I’m wide awake.”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” he replied. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay up with you?”
“No, I’ll read a magazine.”
Amy turned the pages of a home decorating magazine Natalie had lent her but couldn’t focus on the words or the pictures.
Midnight passed without Megan returning, and Amy began to worry. She blamed herself for not asking Bethany’s mother for a cell phone number. At 12:05 a.m., the door opened and Megan came dragging in. Her makeup was smudged and her hair slightly disheveled.
“Are you okay?” Amy asked.
“Exhausted,” Megan mumbled. “I’m going to sle
ep.”
“What about Crystal? Is she at home?”
Megan looked at Amy and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t get me started on that. I have no idea where she is and I don’t care. She ruined our evening.”
“What happened? Where did she go?” Amy asked.
“Not now, Mom. You can interrogate me in the morning, but don’t wake me up. I’m going to sleep till noon.”
Megan stayed true to her promise to sleep away the morning. Jeff had a side job scheduled with Butch and left the house by 8:00 a.m. As soon as Ian woke up, he roared out of the house and into the neighborhood to play. When he returned at lunchtime, Megan still hadn’t made an appearance.
“Mom!” he called out. “I’m starving!”
Amy was folding clothes on the bed in the master bedroom and came downstairs. Ian had pieces of dried brown grass stuck in his dark hair.
“What can I eat?” he asked.
“Start by washing your hands and drinking a big glass of water. You look like you’ve been rolling in a pile of hay.”
Ian washed his hands at the kitchen sink.
“They let Bobby and me—” He stopped. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Bobby and me got to play in the game at the field behind the swimming pool.”
Amy didn’t try to correct the grammatical error caused by the sudden shift in his sentence.
“They have the goal line and out of bounds marked off with real lime. Because we helped put down the lime, they let us play. I got picked fifth. Bobby was last, but we ended up on the same team. I caught a pass, and after that, the boy playing quarterback threw three more to me. I couldn’t run fast enough to score.”
“Were you playing two-hand touch?”
“Uh, no. But you couldn’t hit anyone in the head and had to arm tackle.”
Amy wasn’t sure about the modified rules for neighborhood football games played without pads and helmets, but Ian didn’t show any signs of blood.
She opened the refrigerator door. “I went to the deli yesterday and bought turkey, ham, and roast beef. Which do you want?”
“All of them,” Ian answered.
“Okay, get a plate and some bread.”
Ian placed four pieces of bread on a plate. Amy prepared two sandwiches using all three meats, provolone cheese, a slice of tomato, and a brown mustard she knew he liked.
The Living Room Page 6