Express Duet

by Jody Day

  Mandy, Macy, and Tracy were walking down the sidewalk, laughing and talking.

  Of course they’d be good friends now that they were working at the diner together so much. I squelched a little hurt. Why should they invite me? I hadn’t been great company lately. My life might be on hold, but they probably needed to get some Christmas shopping done. Who was at the diner? I stopped my thoughts. That wasn’t my problem anymore. The place was too much in my heart, and I couldn’t even go there for a cup of coffee any more.

  They all had a shopping bag from the new dress shop on the corner.

  I shrugged it off. Besides, there were guests waiting for me at the inn.

  Joel and Cindi, who joined me for coffee later that afternoon, couldn’t possibly be the same couple.

  “Now that’s better. You’re positively bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Coffee?” I filled their cups without waiting for an answer.

  “Something smells wonderful.” Joel rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. He pulled a chair out for his wife.

  “Ummmm.” Cindy inhaled the aroma from her cup before taking a sip. She closed her eyes and took a drink. “Ambrosia.”

  I laughed. “I know, right? Morning better not come if I run out of coffee.” I served them each a slice of pumpkin bread.

  “Please, help yourself to all you want. If you need anything else, I’ll be puttering around the house somewhere.”

  “Thanks. This is amazing.” Joel dove in with relish.

  I left them to their snack.

  The two young missionaries bubbled with conversation for a good half hour.

  I figured they might be about done, so I went into the kitchen.

  “Join us,” Cindi said.

  The refreshed young woman looked open and friendly. But they were here for a rest. I didn’t even try to explain why I didn’t feel hungry for pumpkin bread.

  “I’ll have some coffee with you.” I poured a cup and sat down at the table.

  “Sorry about earlier. We were just so exhausted. I felt like a spigot had been stuck in me and left on, completely drained.” Cindi took a big breath and blew it out.

  “Yeah, really pooped out,” Joel said eying the sweet bread.

  I served him another slice. Cindi refused another.

  “I guess I don’t understand furlough. I thought it meant a break for you.” It certainly didn’t seem that way.

  They looked at each other.

  He shrugged. “‘Fraid not. We got to come home for a few months, but we have to visit our supporters, speak at churches, and find more funding. We are so grateful to our supporters, but it can be exhausting. We’re already tired when we get off the plane.” He reached for his wife’s hand.

  “I have some brochures of the area attractions. What will you do while you’re here?”

  Joel and Cindi looked at each other. “Nothing,” they chimed in unison.

  “Actually, I plan to travel from the front porch rocker to that delicious bed and back all day. I’m already dreading check out time.” Cindi’s eyes drooped again.

  “Why don’t you stay another night?” These kids needed rest.

  “We would love to, but we can’t afford it. We had to hire a babysitter so we could get this night alone.” Joel stood and retrieved a picture from his wallet. A tow-headed little boy and girl grinned from the photo.

  “Ben’s four and Ally is three.” Cindi’s pride shone in her eyes.

  My heart went out to these young servants of God. I had no idea about life in the mission field, although I could well imagine. To come home and not be able to rest or relax broke my heart. How could they return to the field without being rejuvenated? I could at least help this one little family. I’d discuss it with Mom.

  “I’m going to meet my mother in town in a bit. Please make yourself at home. Feel free to raid the refrigerator, and the diner you passed on the way down has great food. See you later.” I cleared their plates and then went upstairs to get my purse. I couldn’t find my wedding planner. Looking through it would only hurt me, but I wanted it just the same. I hoped I hadn’t left it at the diner.

  As I headed out the front door, the missionaries were already in their room with the door closed.

  ~*~

  Mom shook her head and frowned when she heard the Cummings’ story.

  “I wish we could do something.” I rearranged salad with my fork. I should probably eat, but nothing looked good.

  “Why don’t you and I sponsor them for a few days? Maybe they can get their kids and stay at the inn through the Thanksgiving holidays,” Mom said.

  “Brilliant, Mom!” I dropped my fork and clapped my hands.

  “Your grandmother always did things like that.” Mom’s mouth spanned a grin.

  I let that memory sink in. The succession of missionaries through Pinewood Manor marched before my mind’s eye. How could I have forgotten that?

  “It’s a shame there’s no more Pinewood Manor to put them up.” Mom lifted her cup to her lips, but stopped mid sip.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I set my cup down. The empty paper cup fell over into my salad plate.

  “I said it’s a shame there’s no more Pinewood Manor to accommodate them.” She stared intently at me, mouth open.

  I tried to relate Mom’s sentence with her purposeful gaze. Realization jolted me. “Mom, a place for missionaries? Build a retreat or something?” I snatched a pen and notepad from my purse.

  “Something like, yes. And they don’t have to pay.” She snapped her fingers.

  I wrote notes as fast as my brain could process. “And a place for their kids to play and...”

  An hour passed as Mom and I received revelation. Before the hour vanished, The Helen Barkley Missionary Retreat birthed in our hearts.

  “So much to do. I’ve got to tell Scott.” As soon as the words tripped from my tongue, my face fell.

  Mom patted my hand. “Tell him anyway, Bailey.”

  “Maybe.” He hadn’t called or even sent a text since the day he broke up with me. I’d barely seen him in passing. At least now I’d have something worthwhile to occupy my mind. I reached for the blank space on my neck again. Oh, Gran, my life is upside down again. At least I’ll not sink to the depths I did before. Life without Scott just doesn’t feel good. I turned my heart to prayer for strength, for Scott, for the couple at the inn, and the huge venture we would soon undertake.

  “I’ve got something to do, so I’m headed out,” she said, her cheeks coloring.

  “Ah, a date with Toppy? Is that a new dress?” My mom’s happiness warmed my heart. She deserved it.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She quickly changed the subject. “I say let’s get the holidays out of the way and then get serious. We’ll need lots of help to get this going. I don’t have a clue.” She tossed her paper cup into the trash.

  “Me, either. Sounds like a plan, though. Love you.” I gave her a hug.

  “Love you, too. Offer the Cummings missionaries a week on us. Maybe we can get some ideas from them about how best to benefit people like them.”

  “Good idea. I’ll pick their brains.” Rested up brains, if I had anything to do with it.

  “Oh, and Bailey. Toppy and I are hosting Thanksgiving Dinner at the diner tomorrow. You’ll be there, I hope.”

  I just stared at her. Did I want to be in close proximity to Scott?

  “Bring the Cummings family. And you need to tell Scott about our plans.”

  Trapped.

  18

  “Say, Boss, we gonna cook Thanksgiving dinner at the diner tomorrow? We haven’t done it since, well, you know,” Toppy said cleaning his grill.

  “I know, since Mom died. She loved it, didn’t she?” People from town with nowhere to go joined us. Without Bailey, I didn’t think I could face it, but there was no reason the others had to suffer.

  “Let’s do it.” Toppy smacked the grill brush down for emphasis.

  “But it’s tomorrow. Can w
e pull it together in time?” Another thing I’d dropped the ball on.

  “It’s just cooking. We’ll get started right way.”

  “Didn’t we always do five turkeys? There wasn’t much left over, but certainly enough. So we won’t serve turkey-shaped tofu?” I joked, but my heart wasn’t in it. There was no point in calling off Thanksgiving on my account. I could go through the motions for their sake.

  “Nope, we’ll have the traditional turkey, stuffing, and all the trimmings,” Toppy said.

  I waited for the lecture. It didn’t come. Maybe they were all getting off my case. I’d been doing well with my diet. Not hard to do when I had no appetite. Every time I thought about Bailey, my stomach rose to my throat.

  “I’ll get Tracy to put it up on that media page she made for your businesses. I know some of the locals we can call. Anyway, truckers drive on Thanksgiving Day, too, and they’ll stop in, I bet.” Toppy returned to his grill and whistled a tune. He talked about Thanksgiving, but I thought he had something else on his mind.

  My uncle loved Bailey’s mom. I knew what that felt like. It was hard to see his glowing happiness when mine had crumpled in the dust. I’d hurt Bailey’s happiness too, but she deserved better. I couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t left the inn yet. That sense of responsibility, I guess. She’d promised to stay through the fall. But I’d never be able to forget with her just up the road.

  “You OK? Holidays can be mighty hard with the breakup and all.” He stopped his work and looked at me.

  “I’m fine. It’s for the best. Time will heal Bailey, and I have my work.” Lame.

  “I hear you. But what I don’t hear is that you’ll depend on the Lord for help. Are you mad at God, son?” Toppy wiped his hand on a dishtowel hanging from his belt. He sat down at a small table nearby.

  Nothing like butting into a man’s most intimate business. “I’m not mad, exactly. I don’t know. Maybe I am. All I know is there’s a brick wall between me and God. My prayers seem to be bouncing back from the sky.” I sat down opposite my uncle.

  “I can imagine. It happens to all of us sometime.” Toppy crossed his legs.

  “Really? People lose two parents in the space of a year? Inherit the work of three businesses? Have a heart attack? Lose the woman...” I stopped and tried to control the sickness rising in my chest. “Yeah, it happens all the time.” I punctuated each hard-fought sentence with my finger pounding on the table.

  “No, of course not. But I mean people of faith often have dry times in their life.”

  “Well, what a time for God to dry up the well. Just when I need Him the most. I know he’s there, I just don’t know why He won’t help me.”

  “Think about it, Scott. It’s time to quit focusing on the negative things that have happened to you. Here, let me get you started.” Toppy leaned forward in his chair and held out his fingers. “One, your mother was a Christian. She’s with the Father in heaven. She lived a rich, full life and raised you with love. Not many can say that,” Toppy held up one finger. “Two, your father, ditto. He stayed with you another year and then you got to return the favor of his caring for you all your life by you caring for him,” he made it two fingers. ‘Three, you didn’t die. Four, you are fully recovering and have the chance to get healthy.”

  “And five,” he began, but I stopped him.

  “Bailey, I know. I don’t deserve her, though, Toppy, and what if I die?”

  “What if you do? You think because you had a heart attack that your life is not still in His hands? That He’s not in control? If you felt God gave her to you, wanted you to marry her in the first place, well, He didn’t change his mind just because you got sick.”

  I know. I should be ashamed of myself.

  “Why don’t we pray now and get this bitterness purged out? I want to see you go on with your life. I know it’s been hard, but you belong to God. You’ve been raised with faith; it courses through your veins and you have to stop squelching what I know is in your heart.”

  His words rang true. I’d been feeling sorry for myself. I’d experienced rage, fear, doubt, and grief. I didn’t want it anymore. “I’ve been mad at my heavenly Father. I can’t believe the pride I’ve spouted to Him in prayer that I didn’t deserve all this trouble. Where did that come from?”

  “It’s just part of life. You’d been spared so much until your mother got sick, and then it all came at once. But if you’ll look, you’ll see how the Father’s hand upheld you all the way.”

  “I know.” I bowed my head.

  Toppy put his hand on my head and prayed aloud. “Give this man Your eyes, Lord; show him how You’ve loved him through all of this.”

  My mind focused on Mom’s last words. I’d avoided thinking of this so often, but now it came as clear as day.

  “Son, I’m sorry about all this. I want you to know I’m ready, that I’ll be OK. I’m looking forward to heaven. But I’m worried about your dad. He’s not taking this very well. Thanks for being so strong for both of us these days. I love you. Don’t be bitter, I beg you. Death is part of life.”

  I’d laid my head on her breast and wept. “Please, Mom, I don’t think I can take it. You might still get well, yet.”

  “No, it won’t happen. We’ve all prayed, and I do believe in healing. We don’t always get to understand, but we must always have faith that God knows best. It’s just my time. When we’re in heaven together for an eternity, this will all make sense. Please, take care of your dad for me. I love you both.”

  Toppy continued to pray for me silently. I appreciated it. Still, I didn’t feel close to God the way I had before. How could I go on without Bailey? But if I died…I didn’t want Bailey to suffer the way my father had.

  We sat in silence a few moments. I tried to focus on the blessings that Toppy had just enumerated for me. I felt bolstered by my uncle’s words, but I just wasn’t there yet. I broke the silence. “I’ll go get those turkeys.”

  “Um, Scott, I have a confession.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We all kind of figured we’d have Thanksgiving, didn’t think you’d care. I already got the fixins’. I just have to cook the turkeys and put everything together. I hope you’re not mad.”

  I smirked and shook my head. Whatever. I’d be glad when they would all feel as if they could count on me again. “No, I’m not mad. Thanks, Uncle Tops.”

  “I’ve got to go, now, Scott. Please pray anyway, even if it doesn’t feel like you’re getting through.” He gave me a hug and then rose.

  “Where you going?”

  “I’m nearly late for a very important date,” he said the color rising in his cheeks.

  At least he and Gwen were happy. Fabulous, but I knew it also meant I’d never be fully free from Bailey’s presence with her mom in the picture. I sat in the diner long after everyone went home. Several hours passed as I reflected on all these things.

  My parents threw their arms open wide during the holidays. They went all out for Thanksgiving inviting everyone.

  Memories of the last Thanksgiving, when Mom and Dad were both still alive, rose before me. I could hear the clinking of silverware, the laughing, almost smell the food. Somehow Bailey entered the memory, although she’d never been there at Thanksgiving. I imagined her beside me holding court over the festivities the way my mother did.

  It wouldn’t happen. No use spending time thinking about what would never be. The hurt overtook me. I slammed my fist down on the table.

  “Scott?”

  Bailey. I hadn’t heard her come in.

  “What are you still doing here?” I couldn’t have her, and it made me angry. I’m sure it reflected in my tone of voice. I stood and faced her. She needed to leave Exit 477.

  “I came to tell you what Mom and I decided to do about the Pinewood Manor money. I thought you’d want to know. I guess I was wrong.”

  Of course I wanted to know. I’d offered to help them if they decided to build. But wasn’t all that changed now?

>   “You need to leave, Bailey.”

  “I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.” Bailey spoke calmly, but her voice shook. “I’ll leave after the Christmas bookings if you still want me to.”

  I leaned on the table with both hands. “I do want you to leave. Don’t you understand? I can’t stand it.”

  “Everything all right in here?” Toppy came in the door, Bailey’s mother behind him.

  I saw them but it didn’t register. I turned back to Bailey. “Please, Bailey, there’s nothing for you here.”

  Bailey stood and opened her mouth to speak. Instead she slapped me.

  I reached for my face. I was shocked, but I deserved it.

  She gasped, looked at her hand, and then turned to flee crying.

  “Bailey, I…”

  “Mom, can you stay with me tonight?” She rushed past her mother out the door.

  Gwen followed Bailey out looking over her shoulder at Toppy. She mouthed, “I’m sorry.” What did that mean?

  She barely slid into Bailey’s car before my beloved peeled out.

  Toppy just shook his head.

  19

  I’d promised Mom I’d come to Thanksgiving dinner. She’d slipped out of the inn early to help get the meal ready. Toppy had probably made Scott promise to come as well.

  If it weren’t for the Cummings couple staying at the inn, I would have already left for the diner. I’d better get down there.

  Activity buzzed in the festive little restaurant. Maybe all the people visiting would cut down on the awkwardness I knew I would surely feel if Scott showed up. And why wouldn’t he? This place belonged to him.

  “Hello, sweetheart, how do you feel?” Mom greeted me with a hug.

  “All right, thanks.” The day would not be about my problems. I would count my blessings if it killed me. Now that’s a stinking bad attitude. Where’s your faith?

  “Good, I hope you’re hungry. There’s enough food here to feed the whole town.” She pulled me to a place at the table.