Hannah took Meg’s hand, the one that wasn’t hooked up to tubes, and stroked lightly over the prominent ridges of blue veins. “No. I’m still counting on you being around a long time.”
Meg fixed her eyes on the ceiling tiles. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, “about what it would have been like if I’d had time to prepare with Jim. I’ve been thinking about what a gift it would have been if I’d been told we had even a few more days together instead of him being gone in an instant, with no chance to say goodbye.”
As the tears began to stream down Meg’s face, Hannah reached for a tissue and gently daubed her cheeks.
“I don’t know how long I have,” Meg continued, “or what will happen with Becca, if I’ll live to see anything change with her, but I know one thing. I don’t have time to feel sorry for myself. I’ve spent too many days feeling sorry for myself, Hannah. Too much of my life afraid. It feels like I’ve been given a gift. A chance to be brave. To make a difference somehow, even if it’s not a very big one. No illusions of greatness. There’s nothing heroic about me, about my life. Nothing. But maybe God can help me die well.” She pressed her lips together and reached for the wooden cross on her tray table, rotating it in her hand until she was satisfied with her grip.
“I’m praying for God to help you live,” Hannah said.
Meg’s lips relaxed into half a smile. “That too.”
After Hannah took a luxurious hot shower at Meg’s house, she made phone calls to Nate and Katherine and her parents. “Are you sure?” her mother asked when Hannah told her their decision. “Why the rush?”
Because life is short, and time is precious, she answered silently. Aloud, she said, “Because I’ve been reunited with the love of my life, and I’m not going to wait any longer than I have to.”
Her mother laughed. “That’s a good answer! So when is it?”
“March first.”
“March first! But that’s—”
“I know. What a way to spend a birthday, huh?” Hannah never could have dreamed that she would be married the same day she turned forty, and she couldn’t imagine a more wonderful way to celebrate. Making it easy on me to remember, huh? Nate had teased when she suggested the date.
“But that’s less than three weeks away! And it’s—wait, let me check my calendar—it’s a Sunday. You’re getting married on a Sunday?”
“Yes. We’ll have an evening ceremony at the retreat center I told you about, and Katherine is going to do the service for us. And it’s going to be small. Really small. Just a few very close friends and family members there. And we’ll have cake and coffee afterward. Nothing fancy.”
“But, Hannah—”
“This is what I want, Mom. Truly. We’ll have a beautiful service of worship, we’ll say our vows, and we’ll begin our life together.” In less than three weeks. In. Less. Than. Three. Weeks.
Her mother sighed. Hannah knew it wasn’t what she had dreamed about for her only daughter. But she wasn’t a starry-eyed twentysomething bride. “You know me,” Hannah said, “I’ve never been one for flashy parties.”
“No, I know. I used to have to persuade you to have any kind of birthday party when you were little. You didn’t even like going to them.”
Hannah chuckled. “What a strange child.”
“A beautiful child,” her mother said quietly, and there was something Hannah couldn’t identify in her voice, something wistful, something that caused Hannah’s eyes to sting with tears without her understanding why. “I only ever wanted you to be happy, Hannah.”
“I am, Mom.” She was. She truly was. If joy and sorrow could simultaneously run on parallel tracks with God’s presence being revealed in each, then she was. In a cup-running-over sort of way. She was.
Mara
Kevin sat on the kitchen countertop after basketball practice, legs swinging, heels lightly thudding against the cupboards. Reluctant to have him hop down and disappear to his room or to the basement, Mara let him sit there, enjoying a rare moment of multisentenced communication from him. “And then Coach Conrad suspended Scottie for starting a fight and gave him ten days of community service,” Kevin was saying, “so I told him he should help out at Crossroads because the kids there are really cool and he’d have a good time.” Kevin reached for another chocolate chip cookie. “These are good, Mom. Thanks.”
He could have knocked her over with a feather. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Thank Mrs. Sinclair next time you see her. She’s the one who brought all the ingredients.” As soon as she spoke the words, she regretted it. Maybe she shouldn’t remind Kevin that money was tight. She didn’t know where to find the balance between being honest and causing anxiety. She turned on the hot water and rinsed the cookie sheet.
“Did Dad pay you?”
“Yep.” That morning, thank God. She had never been more relieved to get a check. Ever. His attorney must have communicated the consequences to him of not abiding by their temporary custodial arrangement. “We’ll be okay, Kev.” As long as your father keeps paying what he owes, she added silently. “And I told you about my new job, right?”
He nodded. “You’re gonna start getting paid for everything you do there?”
“Not much, but yeah.” She still wasn’t sure Kevin could be trusted not to relay information to Tom. But what did it matter? Her attorney had assured her that the little bit of money she’d make at Crossroads wouldn’t significantly impact their settlement. Now that Jeremy was desperate to find work while company business was slow, she certainly wouldn’t accept any babysitting money from them.
It was so kind of Charissa and John to give Jeremy a project. Charissa had already phoned to say what great work Jeremy had done. Not that Mara was surprised. He was a very hard worker. Too bad he couldn’t teach Brian a thing or two. She reached for the green-checked towel draped over the oven handle.
Kevin stopped swinging his legs. “If I tell you something, promise you won’t get mad?”
Mara could see his reflection in the oven. She also saw her own. Remembering the prayer exercise Dawn had given her before Christmas, she took a deep breath and said silently, I am the one Jesus loves. “Promise,” she said.
“Dad has a new girlfriend.”
Of course he did. Tom had probably had plenty of girlfriends during their marriage.
“And she’s pregnant.”
Mara spun around, mouth open.
“Don’t get mad at me for telling you, okay?”
“Kevin, I’m not mad at—”
“And don’t tell Dad I told you, okay?”
“Kevin, I—”
“He’ll be really mad at me if he finds out you know.”
She and Kevin had been through this routine before, and she couldn’t play the game again. This was probably information her attorney would need to know. “How do you know she’s pregnant?” she asked.
“I’ve seen her.”
“Here in Kingsbury?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Over the weekend.”
“She was with you during your visit with your dad?”
“She met us for dinner.”
It didn’t sound like Tom was worried about keeping secrets.
“And she’s got, like, three other kids.”
“Her kids came too?”
“Yeah.”
Much as she wanted to, she decided not to interrogate her fifteen-year-old about who the father of the baby was. “Doesn’t sound like it’s much of a secret if your father introduced you to her and her kids.”
Kevin shrugged and took another cookie.
Mara was surprised by how calm she felt. A strange, almost eerie kind of calm.
“You’re not mad?” Kevin asked.
“Nope.” He could take that back to his father, and Tom could chew on it. She hung the dampened towel on the oven door, spoke silently again to her reflection, and then asked, “So, what’s she like, the girlfrien
d?”
Mara listened with deepening satisfaction as Kevin described her. Not even kinda pretty, he said, with this big frizzy hair and lots of makeup she probably thought made her look good but made her look stupid. And her kids were brats. He could tell his dad thought they were brats too, even though he didn’t say so. He just sat there with his arm around Tiffany at the table and tried to ignore what they were doing. But his eye was doing that little twitching thing it always did when he was mad.
Mara knew exactly what little twitching thing he was talking about. “How old are they?” she asked.
“Dunno. Little. Like toddlers or kindergartners or something. Really hyper.”
“What did Brian think?” She was surprised it had taken Kevin this long to mention the girlfriend and was shocked Brian hadn’t let it slip. She leaned her backside against the counter, facing him.
“He was mad. Dad was supposed to take us to that video game place for dinner. And then he said the plans got changed, and we ended up at IHOP with them.”
Right. Brian would have been furious at that. She would probably be able to leverage this, though she wasn’t yet sure how. This was good. This was very good. “And—Tiffany, did you say?—does she live in Kingsbury?”
“Yeah, but I heard her say something to Dad about Cleveland, and he made this move with his elbow to try to get her to be quiet and she looked at him, like, ‘What!’ and then he tilted his head toward me because he knew I was listening even though I was pretending not to and she said, ‘Whatever,’ and cut up her kids’ pancakes.”
“You think she’s planning to move to Cleveland?”
“Maybe.”
Interesting. Very interesting.
“But don’t tell him I told you all this, okay?” Without waiting for her reply, he hopped down from the counter and disappeared upstairs.
When the doorbell rang half an hour later, Mara answered, thinking it would be Jeremy on his way home from a job. Bailey barked and raced around her feet, nearly causing her to trip. “I swear, Dog, you’re gonna be the death of me.” She unlatched the lock and opened the door. “Hannah!”
“Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I was in the neighborhood—I’m on my way back to the hospital—and thought I’d stop by.”
Mara felt a pang of guilt. She had gone almost an entire day without thinking about Meg even once. She was a sucky, sucky friend. “C’mon in!” she said. “I’ll make us tea.” She scooped Bailey up in her arms. Hannah petted the top of Bailey’s head and took off her shoes.
“I can’t stay long,” Hannah said. “But I wanted to fill you in on some new developments.”
Mara had plenty of new developments too. She couldn’t wait to tell Hannah what she’d learned from Kevin. But Meg first. “How’s she doing?” Mara asked.
Hannah followed her into the family room and sat down on the edge of the sofa. “She’s actually doing pretty well. They think they’ll send her home tomorrow. She’ll be happier in her own bed.”
“That’s good. And what about the—” Mara couldn’t bring herself to use a personal pronoun or the c-word.
“Still asking God for a miracle,” Hannah replied.
Okay. Mara would try to join her in that. “Sure I can’t get you some tea?”
“No, thanks. I need to go soon. But I have news.”
Hannah’s eyes were bright, her face relaxed. This wasn’t news about Meg. “What kind of news?”
“Wedding news.”
“Girlfriend! Did you set a date?”
“March first.”
Mara stared at her. “Next year?”
“This year.”
“This March first? Like, two weeks from now?”
“Almost three. And yes.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“Are you crazy?”
Hannah laughed. “Probably.”
“But what about your church? Aren’t you going back in June?”
“Haven’t figured that part out yet, but we will. We’ll work something out.”
“Man, I didn’t see this one coming!”
“Me neither,” Hannah said, the slightest of shadows darkening her smile.
Mara understood. “So . . . what can I do to help?”
For one thing, she wasn’t going to let Hannah buy a cake from Costco. She would make a two-tiered layer cake and get directions from a magazine about how to decorate it. Was Hannah okay with that? She was. And was Hannah sure she didn’t want a catered meal? Because Mara could put something together no problem. Yes, Hannah was sure. They just wanted cake. And what about a photographer? Abby took pretty good pictures. Did Hannah want her to ask about that? No, Nathan’s brother-in-law was a photographer, and he could take all the photos. “Sounds like you’ve already got a lot of it figured out,” Mara commented.
“I might be naive,” Hannah said, “but I think we can put it together fairly easily. I just need to find a dress.”
Bailey jumped up onto the couch and flopped down beside Mara, his head on her lap. “And what about us?” Mara asked, smiling wryly. “What color tent do you want me to wear?” Walking Bailey twice a day had enabled her to shed a few pounds, but not nearly enough to make her attractive in a bridesmaid’s gown.
“Nate and I talked about it, and we’re not doing the whole matching dress thing. I don’t know what Meg will feel up to wearing, and it just makes more sense to choose a color and have you guys pick whatever you want.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I’m thinking blue. Any shade.”
“How about shoes?”
“I’m going to be barefoot.”
Mara thought a moment. “Then the rest of us have got to wear sensible shoes. Sensible matching shoes.”
Hannah laughed. “Perfect! Love it! Can I put you in charge of choosing those?”
“You bet, girlfriend.”
Hannah looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the hospital,” she said.
Oh.
No chance to tell her the latest about Tom. Mara nudged Bailey off her lap and rose to give Hannah a hug. Her story could wait for another time.
Hannah
Hannah had one more phone call to make, a call she had deferred all day. From a secluded corner of the hospital lobby, she dialed Westminster’s number. “Hey, Annie,” she said when the receptionist answered, “it’s Hannah Shepley, trying to catch Steve. Is he in his office?” Annie thought so, and put her through.
Steve was apologetic, said he had been swamped with ministry crises the past week and hadn’t had a chance to email her. She assured him it was no problem, that she’d also had a busy week with a friend receiving a cancer diagnosis and that she was spending a lot of time at the hospital. He was sorry to hear that, he said.
Yes, well, it had hit her hard, she said. The news had impacted her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. “And my fiancé and I have made a decision,” she said. How peculiar that word still sounded, how unpracticed she was in saying it. And soon it would be replaced by the even more astonishing word: husband. “I know it will come as a surprise to many people,” she went on, “but we’ve decided to move forward with our wedding, not to wait.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and in that silence Hannah time-traveled back to August—a lifetime ago now—when Steve entered her office and told her that he and the elders had “made a decision” he knew she wouldn’t like. But it was for her good, he said. He hoped she would receive it as a gift, he said. Just give God nine months, he said. She had given God six, and she was amazed by what God had done. Astounded and humbled and grateful. So grateful.
“How soon?” Steve asked.
“Three weeks.” She decided to break the ensuing, awkward silence with levity. “It’s your fault!” she exclaimed. “You’re the one who insisted I take the sabbatical, and you know I didn’t want it. But if you hadn’t sent me off into exile, I never would have been reunited with Nathan. You said the time off woul
d be a gift to me. You just had no idea how much of a gift.”
He chuckled. “Right. I guess it is my fault. And I’m happy for you, Hannah. Just surprised. Shocked, actually. You and I have been colleagues a long time, and I’ve never known you to make quick decisions like this. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“I know,” she said. “Believe me, I know. I’m not sure what to make of it either. Except I know that Nathan and I belong together, and everything that’s going on with my friend right now has made me realize just how short life is, how we have to make the most of the days we’ve been given. And Nathan and I are committed to doing that together, to serving God together. And I don’t know what that means for me coming back to Westminster long-term, Steve. I’m certainly not going to leave you in the lurch, not after everything the congregation has given me.”
“But is Nathan willing to move to Chicago?”
“He’s got a teenage son,” Hannah said. “And I’m not going to ask him to make a move while Jake is at home. So it’s up to me to work out a schedule, maybe commute back and forth or something.”
Silence. She wished she could see his facial expression.
“What about if I come back full time in June,” she suggested, “and then maybe gradually transition to something more part time?” That sort of arrangement could work. People made such things work. She could make it work. She and Nate could make it work. If the church could make it work.
“I can take it to the elders,” Steve said after another long pause. “But I’ve got to tell you, there’s a lot of momentum here. God is doing lots of new things, and we’re excited about it. We’re going to need staff who are on board with the ministry, wholehearted about it.”
Staff like Heather, Hannah thought. Young. Excited. Wholehearted.
“I guess the question I’d pose to you, Hannah, is, do you still feel called to ministry here? Or is God opening up something different for you?”
She didn’t know. But she suddenly had a feeling that if she stepped aside, Westminster might not be “left in the lurch” after all. Maybe that was the subtext. Maybe Steve wanted her to know that God was opening up something different for them. And if she wasn’t willing to return to ministry even more committed and passionate than before, then maybe she wasn’t meant to return.
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