Jules reached for the lemonade in an attempt to loosen the tight knot in her throat. The tart liquid couldn’t alter the painful emotion. “Has anyone called to cancel yet?”
“I haven’t had a cancellation.” Crystal wet a washcloth and wiped the toddler’s hands. “You have time for a hot shower.”
“Thanks.” Jules pushed back from the table. The questions in Crystal’s eyes would have to wait. The book club was due to arrive in thirty minutes. Her gaze quickly assessed the kitchen. Everything was in place. “The house looks good, Crystal.”
“Thanks. I’ve worked hard on it.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. Everything will go nicely.”
Could Crystal suddenly read her thoughts? Admittedly, she was worried about the evening. She was new to the club, and Crystal could be such a space cadet …
By seven-ten, the den was filled with chatting women. Crystal served coffee and brownies and visited with each member. Jules caught sketches of conversation, and there was nothing wrong with her sister’s hosting skills, but it wasn’t etiquette that worried Jules. Mom had been a stickler on etiquette; that much she could remember, so it was only genes for Crystal to acquire those skills. But the constant referral to Florida, sun and white sand grated on Jules’s nerves. She inspected lingering dirt under her fingernails. They should all have sunny days and warm surf.
The leader called for quiet, and the women settled down, opening their fiction study book. For the first ten minutes general discussion revolved around the main character and the author’s perception of God.
A brunette raised her hand. “I feel the author’s perceptions overpowered the real principle of the book, that of love and forgiveness.”
“How so?”
“In chapter 3 where the protagonist must choose between his belief and those of his wife’s, I think too much of the author’s personal opinions came through. I’ve written various things, and I try to keep my private observations on neutral ground, while this author shoves his convictions in my face.”
“I didn’t see that,” a woman exclaimed. “I thought he explained very convincingly why he could not tolerate their situation.”
Jules listened, but her heart was in the hospital room where she longed to be. How long? Without the treatments, how long could Sophie last? A week? A month? Cruz was right; Sophie wasn’t going anywhere until God said she was. Her thoughts focused on the verse in Ecclesiastes, when God says it’s time, my time to go, your time, we all will keep that appointment. Did the verse contain “amen,” the sealer? So let it be. Jules turned in her Bible to locate the passage, but she glanced up when Crystal lifted her hand to speak.
She mentally groaned.
The moderator nodded. “Yes, Crystal?”
“Sometimes I feel that we can tolerate anything that God sends our way. Doesn’t he promise that he will never send more than we can bear?”
The leader cleared her throat. “He does make that promise.”
Jules closed her eyes. They were discussing a fiction book, not Scripture. While she learned more than she dreamed in fiction, it was still fiction soundly based on Scripture. And they weren’t talking about bearing burdens; they were talking about a man’s inability to accept.
A woman lifted her hand. “I don’t question God or his Word, but sometimes the burdens that are placed upon us are nearly more than we can bear.”
“But a loving God offers to carry the grief for us,” Jules offered, hoping to move on before Crystal could pursue the subject. But Crystal was like a pit bull with a juicy bone, and Sophie’s dilemma too raw in her thoughts.
“I will never understand tragedy or why God permits it.”
Jules shifted in her chair, then cleared her throat. “If anyone understood God’s ways, trust would become less important.” The women would think that Crystal wasn’t a believer when Jules knew that she was.
“Yes, that would make sense,” a blonde agreed.
Crystal shook her head. “Still, if I were doing it, I would erase all wars, human suffering and disease.”
“But God is doing it,” Jules softly reminded her. “Now shall we move on to the book?”
Close to ten o’clock, the meeting broke up. Jules said good night to the last one, and closed the door, her mind still on Sophie’s bizarre request. Of course she was discouraged. Anyone would be under the circumstances, but the doctors couldn’t allow her to give up. Crystal was in the kitchen stacking cups and glasses in the dishwasher.
Yawning, Jules tidied the den and then walked into the kitchen. “Need any help?”
“No, I’m through.” Her sister folded a dishtowel and hung it on the hook.
“I’m beat. I’m going to bed.” Jules reached for the last brownie and headed to her bedroom.
Crystal’s voice stopped her. “You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?”
Closing her eyes, Jules experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Why would you ask that?”
“I may not view life in the same way you do, but I’m not stupid, Jules.”
“I’ve never said that you were stupid.”
“Yes. You have. Every day your expressions and your eyes say it.”
Jules turned to face her, then sighed. “It’s late, Crystal. Let’s not pick an argument tonight.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For embarrassing you at the meeting. I didn’t intend to — I intended to guard my every word, but I forgot where I was and what we were discussing. If that makes me stupid, then I am, but I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“Forget it. It was nothing. I don’t know those women anyway.”
“That’s not the point. The point is that I embarrassed you. And that seems to be a pattern lately.”
“You don’t think before you speak, Crystal. We were talking about a fiction book. How do you go from fiction to being God?”
“I wasn’t ‘being’ God. I was only offering an observation. I spoke before I thought.”
“I’ve wished I could take back my words a million times,” Jules admitted. Her life would be different now if she could rein back all the times she’d refused Cruz’s wishes. She’d be married to him; they’d be fighting old equipment, lack of sufficient rain and potato infestations together. But idle words couldn’t be taken back. “I just wish …”
“That I was Sophie.”
“No …” Even Jules knew that was cold. “I wish that you would think before you speak.”
Crystal sighed. “Don’t you think I wish the same thing?” She brushed past her and walked to the doorway. “I’m taking Lucille a cake in the morning. I’ll give her your best wishes.”
“Crystal.”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Sophie asked to be taken off the treatments this morning.”
“She can’t survive without them, can she?”
“No.”
Her sister’s features softened. “I’m sorry, Jules. I know what Sophie means to you. And this makes my thoughts and observations that much more hurtful.”
Blinking back hot tears, Jules swallowed. “God’s still in control. He’ll have the final say about Sophie’s life.”
“And if he chooses to take her home, can you live with that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I’ll help all that I can.”
The trouble was Jules knew her sister could never take the place of her friend.
“Funny.” Crystal smiled. “Christians strive to reach their eternal home, but nobody’s eager to make the trip.” Turning, she left the kitchen.
Jules tried to absorb the notion, the first practical thought she’d witnessed from Crystal. Sophie loved God and always talked of heaven and what she and Jules would do there. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Sophie was going to die. She would drift off, and Jules would be left to lie on her back on a blanket spread on the ground on summer evenings and visualize heaven, and what Sophie was doing that day. She figured s
he’d want to talk to the woman at the well first. Their earthly lives held the same similarity and forgiveness.
Snagging a tissue from the countertop, she wiped the sudden tears that came as if from a cloud burst; both laughing and crying out loud at the image of Sophie sprawled on a celestial conveyor belt eating her heart’s content of donuts. She loved Krispy Kreme.
The God Sophie loved and worshiped would meet her at the Gate, take her hand, and lead her into eternal peace.
Chapter 23
Opening her eyes, Jules was met with memories of the long night two years ago when she’d held Sophie’s hand during labor, and panted, grunted, and cried with her. Toward dawn, on July 26, Sophie held her daughter in her arms, a perfect bundle of grace. Olivia Dawn came into the world weighing five pounds nine ounces, sporting a crown of jet black hair.
Memory of the priceless moment made her laugh. “It’s your daughter’s second birthday, Sophie. Did you think about that this morning, and reconsider ending your fight?” Surely she must.
No gloomy thoughts today. Today all illness and trouble didn’t exist. It was Livvy’s birthday. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she wiped back tears and turned to happier thoughts. What’s Livvy’s favorite cake? Ah, white. Jules sprang from bed and dressed. Even with Sophie’s illness, she hadn’t forgotten her little girl’s special day. She sent Jules shopping two days ago, and the gift was waiting in Sophie’s bedside table.
Within the hour, she had the cake in the oven and Crystal busy gathering paper and scissors. “Look at this.” Her sister held up a blue-and-white-checked jumper. “Isn’t it adorable?”
“Cute as a bug, but somehow I think she’ll like the baby buggy better.”
“Only because you bought it for her.”
Jules noticed that light-hearted banter came easier now. Lately, they could tease each other without one or the other taking offense.
“I wonder what Adan and Cruz will buy for her?”
Jules turned from the cabinet. “Are they coming?”
“Of course. Sophie asked me to make sure they were invited. Livvy couldn’t have a birthday celebration without her uncles in attendance.”
Sneaky Sophie; she hadn’t mentioned a word to Jules about inviting the uncles. “I bet Cruz isn’t crazy about the idea.” She bit back a grin. Seemed he was stuck with her no matter how hard he tried to avoid it.
She noticed that Crystal didn’t immediately jump to his defense. She fashioned a large pink silk bow, her face a mask of concentration. “At first he didn’t favor the idea; he thought that he and Adan should have a celebration of their own, but Adan made him see the wisdom of presenting family unity.”
Jules’s reservations melted. Cruz didn’t want to be around her; but family celebrations were practically sacred for Sophie and she would be upset if Cruz wasn’t there. The event was going to be hard enough with Sophie’s absence. “I’m glad we’re taking them to the park. The hospital is too …”
“Dismal. I agree.” Crystal tied off a stunning pink ribbon.
Later Jules iced the cake while Crystal loaded presents into the Tracker. The dessert had two large relighting candles on it because Livvy loved blowing out candles more than eating cake.
When Crystal came back into the house, Jules remarked, “I guess we can stop by a deli and pick up food.”
Crystal reached for the icing laden beater. “Food’s taken care of. Adan insisted that he and Cruz bring the meal.”
“Oh brother, I can imagine what that will be.” She pictured the men’s shopping cart with all its junk food items.
“I warned him to bring something healthy.”
“Healthy to Adan is the basic corn dog, catsup and fries for a vegetable, and a drink.”
“You don’t give those two men enough credit. They’re smart and devoted to the children. I think they’re doing a remarkable job.” Crystal licked icing off the mixer beater. “They’re a little clumsy in their attempts to help, but they’re always around when we need them. I’d say either man would make a dedicated father.” She took another swipe of white frosting. “Yum. This is wonderful.”
“Pure sugar and butter,” Jules teased. But Crystal’s logic remained. At first, Jules had thought that neither Cruz nor Adan would know how to change a diaper; they both not only knew but she hadn’t heard much complaint when the often disagreeable task showed up.
Her sister lifted a self-deprecating shoulder. “Tofu makes terrible icing.”
On the drive to Pasco, Livvy and Ethan chattered. “It’s Livvy’s birthday,” the little girl sang. “Can we see Mama?”
“We can go to the hospital briefly after the picnic and say hi.” She glanced at Livvy and smiled. If they went to the hospital, they couldn’t stay long. Yesterday had been a taxing day for Sophie. The doctors were still encouraging her to continue treatments. When she’d spoken with Adan this morning he’d said that a few tubes had been pulled, but she was still on the nasogastric treatments.
When they pulled into the park, Crystal spotted Cruz’s truck. Jules drove to the picnic site, a popular and appealing area with blooming flowers and spouting water fountains.
The two men walked to the mini SUV to help carry the children. Cruz nodded at Jules. “Morning. You want to leave the gifts in the back until after we eat?”
“Good idea.” Once Livvy saw the presents, her food would be forgotten.
Jules’s eyes fixed on the concrete picnic table where the men had spread a gaily colored plastic cloth over the top. Matching cups and dishes with a Cinderella theme enhanced the party atmosphere. A large center piece of pink and white balloons floated overhead. “You guys did all of this?”
Adan grinned. “What can I say? We have talents yet to surface.”
“Everything looks lovely.” Crystal seated herself beside Livvy and after settling Ethan opposite them, Jules took a seat beside her sister. Adan and Cruz bookended the two ladies. It was a tight fit.
Closing her eyes, Jules took a deep breath, determined to shake the smell of Cruz’s after shave, the warmth of his shoulder pressing against hers. Given a few moments, she could overcome the desire to lean and hug him. Not that long ago not a soul would have thought a thing about the affectionate exchange. When Jules and Cruz were together, it was a foregone conclusion that one or the other would steal a kiss or an embrace.
“Now for the pièce de résistance.” Adan dramatically whipped the cover off the bowl.
Livvy scrambled to her knees to peer at the offering. “Cheesy!”
Jules’s heart sank. Macaroni and cheese. Again. Their diet consisted of carbs and dairy. She glanced at Crystal.
Her sister shrugged. “Want to bet chicken nuggets are next?”
“Chicken!” the kids parroted. And nuggets appeared.
Adan started to dish the food, glancing at Jules. “Would you rather they eat their meal or ignore it?”
The meal turned noisy as the party goers ate their dinner. Later Jules lit the two candles, and Livvy blew and blew. And blew.
Cruz winced and leaned close to Jules’s ear. “I hope you brought a second cake for the adults.”
Livvy was blowing more slobbers than wind.
“No cake—but we have ice cream.”
“Praise the Lord.”
The two candles were finally extinguished, and cake was cut. Jules noticed Livvy and Ethan were the only takers. The adults ate ice cream.
While Jules and Crystal cleaned up, Adan and Cruz erected a croquet set. Jules eyed the work and whispered, “Do you think it’s wise to hand Ethan a croquet mallet?”
“Adan will watch him. We play all the time at home.”
Jules turned. “You do? When?”
Crystal smiled. “Whenever Adan brings the set over. The kids love batting the balls around the yard.”
Never once since Jules had been entrusted with the children’s care had she taken the time to play with them. Crystal was always involved in some board game: Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders.
The sun climbed higher and the family played soccer, then a rousing baseball game using plastic balls and bats. By now the tension between Cruz and Jules dissipated. Conversation was easier, relegated to friendly taunts. Jules luxuriated in her and Cruz’s former relationship, easy, comfortable. It was like old times.
“Aunt Jube’s a big ole sissy girl!” Cruz taunted as he and Ethan played field during the baseball game. “She can’t hit the broad side of a barn!”
Jules dug imaginary cleats into the tufted grass and affected an exaggerated batting pose. “Come on, Delgado. Let’s see what ya got!”
Cruz pitched the plastic ball and she leapt back then sprawled on the ground in an embellished position. “I’m hit!”
“I didn’t come within a mile of you!”
Other players giggled as Jules dramatically surged to her feet, spat on the ground and affected a mock dispute. Pitcher and batter came nose to nose.
“You stepped into that ball!”
“Oh yeah! Prove it!”
Crystal pompously assumed the role of umpire. She stalked to the pitcher’s mound wearing her most aggravated expression. She parted the two combatants, lightly slapping their cheeks, lifting her knees to their backsides, and then sent them back to their positions.
The kids and Adan rolled on the ground, laughing. As shadows lengthened, the merriment turned to the big hour: presents. Livvy was getting cranky. It was long past her afternoon nap, but when she saw the mound of gaily wrapped packages awaiting her on the picnic table she brightened. “Yea!” She clapped. “Presents! Lots and lots of presents!”
Jules set the camera aside and popped the lid on an ice cold diet Pepsi and watched the fun. If only Sophie could be here to see her daughter turn two; the bloom on her chubby cheeks, the delighted squeals as the wrapping came off the baby carriage, new dolly and board games. Cruz disappeared and returned rolling a new pink bicycle, complete with training wheels, basket and horn. More snapshots of an elated, bubbling Livvy.
The child jumped up and down with glee. “Yea!”
Jules glanced at Cruz and grinned. “You do know it will be two to three years before she can ride that thing.”
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