Scrap Everything

by Leslie Gould

  Patrick ran his fingers through Rebekah’s hair. “Do you?”

  “Of course not.” Rebekah stood.

  “I can see why Reid wonders.” Patrick pulled a glass from the cupboard. “I’ve wondered that myself sometimes.” He poured himself a glass of water.

  “About Reid?”

  “No. About me.”

  “Patrick.” She went and turned off the kitchen light. “I’m too tired for this. Good night.”

  Rebekah thrust a leg out from under the floral chintz comforter. Moonlight shone through the lace curtain and cast a streak of light on the far wall. Patrick slept on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. A coyote yipped in the night.

  Half an hour later she fished under the bed for her slippers and tiptoed into the hall, wearing plaid pajama bottoms and one of Patrick’s T-shirts. She poked her head into Pepper’s room; her daughter slept with one arm over her head and a half smile on her face, her blond hair fanned across her blue pillow. It was hard to fathom that a disease stalked her body, stalked her life.

  Rebekah headed downstairs, making her way through the darkness to the kitchen. She flipped on the light and squinted as she sat down at her computer.

  Dr. Thomas had said that a related donor was their best bet. Should she call Pepper’s bio grandmother? Or write a letter? She booted up the computer and opened Word. She definitely shouldn’t call at 4:30 in the morning. She wrote:

  Dear Polly,

  I hope this note finds you and your family well.

  No. The word family brought Mandy, Pepper’s birth mom, to mind. How could you be well, ever, if you lost your eighteen-year-old daughter, even if it had been over a decade ago?

  Dear Polly,

  Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve written.

  How long had it been? Rebekah had gone to Mandy’s funeral, sent photos on Pepper’s birthday for the first five years or so, and then written and sent photos when they had the kidney scare four years ago—not to ask Polly to consider donating but to keep in touch, just in case.

  Polly hadn’t written back.

  Dear Polly,

  I’ll cut to the chase. Pepper is ill, and we’re looking for a kidney. Would you consider donating yours?

  She hit Delete, Delete, Delete until every word was removed from the screen.

  Maybe she should call in the morning, after the kids left for school. Polly, this is Rebekah, Pepper’s mom—I mean adoptive mom. I was wondering how you are doing. Are you healthy? Do you have diabetes? High blood pressure? Any chronic illness? By the way, what is your blood type? Rebekah sighed. She could think of no tactful way to do this. She launched the desk chair backward and bumped into Pepper’s boots. The soles were caked with manure—and in the kitchen. She tossed them onto the mud porch. Surely Polly, or Pepper’s aunt, would agree to be tested. Who wouldn’t be willing to do that for Pepper?

  She stood and stretched. She had an hour before everyone needed to get up.

  “Hi, Sky.” Rebekah cooed the words as she rubbed the horse’s forehead. He nuzzled his nose against her neck, warming her skin with his soft flesh. His mother shifted in the next stall.

  “Hey, girl,” Rebekah called out. “You’re next.” She brushed Sky’s dark mane and tail and then his inky sides and then over the white spots splattered across his rump. She poured a bucket of oats into his trough and took off her jean jacket and tossed it over the stall gate.

  Sky bumped his head lovingly against Rebekah’s arm. “Are you having a good morning?” she asked, rubbing between his ears. He was so unpredictable. He could be a wild beast one day and a perfect gentleman the next. She couldn’t imagine trusting him with Pepper, not yet.

  Rebekah poured a bucket of oats into the mare’s trough and then began brushing her. “What would you do if something horrible was after Sky?” she asked, working a burr out of the horse’s tail. The mare snorted.

  The barn door creaked open, and a starling fluttered up to the rafters. “Mom?”

  “Back here, honey.”

  “Will you braid my hair?”

  “Just a minute, Pep. Let me finish.” Rebekah held her watch toward the light: 6:32. “Feed the other horses their oats.” They would have to brush the rest in the evening and hopefully get in a short ride. She raced through her mental to-do list for the day. Check on the back orders at the shop, unpack the inventory that arrived late yesterday, pay the bills, pick up milk and bread on the way home. Yikes. She had forgotten to look for the insurance enrollment form. She dropped the brush on the shelf. “Hey, sweet pea, meet me back in the house when you’re done. I need to go find something.”

  Rebekah grabbed her jean jacket and slipped through the barn door. The rising sun glimmered just above the forest, and a flock of birds landed in the plowed field across the road. She sucked in the cool air and hurried up the back steps into the kitchen. The form wasn’t on her desk. She turned off the teakettle as she headed into the dining room, snatching a stack of mail off the china cabinet.

  “What’s up?” Patrick asked as he buttoned his shirt.

  Startled, Rebekah jerked up her head. “I need to pay bills today.” She thumbed through the stack. Credit card advertisements, a school calendar, the power bill. On the bottom was the insurance form.

  “Do you want hot cereal?” he called from the kitchen. “I’m making the instant kind.”

  “Sure.” She unfolded the form and scanned the opening paragraph. Due date: September 1. That was three weeks ago.

  Mom.” Michael stood in the bedroom doorway. “We’re leaving for school.”

  “What time is it?” Elise opened her eyes.

  “Seven forty-five. We’re riding our bikes.” Michael paused. “Are you sick?”

  “Just tired.” She flung the blankets back, climbed out of bed, and slipped into her robe. She hadn’t been able to sleep and finally had taken a pill at three thirty. Ted’s cell phone had rung an hour later, and he had headed to the Salem Hospital. She stood at the living room window and waved as the boys rode down the street. Ted. Germany. They hadn’t told Michael. Ted had told Mark last night, but Michael was already asleep. Had Mark said something? Elise poured a cup of coffee and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

  She swallowed the coffee. Ted always made it too weak. Ted. Had he tricked her? Had he known that being deployed again was a possibility but didn’t think she would agree to move to Forest Falls if he told her?

  She headed to the shower. She was scheduled to volunteer in the school library third period. She would find Michael and tell him then.

  Elise scanned the hall. Three girls came toward her, their arms linked. “Hey!” one of them called out to Reid, who stood in front of his locker. “How’s your sister? Are you going to give her a kidney?”

  Reid poked his head out from behind the door. “Get lost.”

  Elise smiled. She loved to see other people’s kids act out.

  “Boy, you’re grumpy,” the middle girl called out.

  “Hi, Reid.” Elise took a step toward his locker.

  He slammed the door; it bounced back open. He slammed it again.

  “Hi,” she said again.

  He ignored her.

  “Hi, Elise!” Pepper hurried toward her. “Don’t mind Reid. He’s mad at me.”

  “Why?”

  Pepper shrugged. “He’s been a creep since last night.”

  Maybe Mark wasn’t that unusual; maybe it was the age. “Pepper, I thought you were sick.”

  “I’m on antibiotics. I feel better already.”

  “So it’s just an infection?” Elise wanted to laugh. The middle school gossip mill had turned a kidney infection into a transplant.

  “Sort of.” Pepper flipped both of her braids over her shoulder and waved good-bye as the bell rang.

  Elise wove her way down the hall to Michael’s math class. He hopped off the back of his chair and onto the seat as Elise entered the classroom.

  “What are you doing here?” he whispered.


  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Now?” His head bobbed from side to side.

  Elise nodded. “Let’s go outside. Tell your teacher you’ll be right back.”

  She sat on the top step; Michael sat three steps lower. Bright yellow maple leaves covered the school lawn.

  “Dad had a phone call last night.”

  Michael shrugged.

  “Did Mark say anything?” Elise took her purse from her shoulder and held it in her lap.

  “Just that we might move to Seattle after Dad’s deployed.”

  What was Mark up to? “Dad will be gone for only three months.”

  “Is he going to Iraq?”

  “Germany. Mark didn’t tell you that?”

  “He just said Dad was being deployed—again.” Michael cracked his knuckles.

  “Have you and Mark told anyone else?”

  “No.” Michael hesitated. “Well, just a few of my football buddies. They might have told some girls. Rumor is that Dad is going to fight; no one seems to know that he’s an anesthesiologist.” He grinned and squared his shoulders.

  Elise shook her head. The boys had no idea how gossipy small towns could be. “Michael.” She leaned forward. “I’m sorry that Mark told you before Dad or I could.”

  He shrugged. “I should get to class.”

  “Pepper told me she doesn’t need a kidney.” Elise spoke the words softly as they headed back into the building.

  “No, she does, Mom. The whole school knows.” Michael stopped. “Will you be okay while Dad’s gone?”

  “Sure, honey. We’ll all be fine. It’s only Germany; it’s only for three months.”

  Elise pushed open the door to the Scrap Shack. “Hi, Rebekah.”

  “Oh, hi! I was hoping you would stop by.” Rebekah put a box of horseshoe charms on the counter. “Sandi told me about your husband.”

  “How did Sandi know?”

  “She’s in a Bible study at church with your father-in-law. He asked for prayer for you.”

  Elise wrinkled her nose.

  “How are you doing with all of this?”

  “Fine.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t be fine if Patrick was going off for three months.” Rebekah slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

  “It’s just Germany.” Elise picked a blond hair off her blazer.

  Rebekah nodded. “So this is no big deal to you?”

  Elise shrugged. “I’m thinking about taking the boys over at Christmas.”

  “I’ve got the perfect embellishments for you.” Rebekah hurried over to the travel section and held up a German flag. “You could do a vacation book.”

  Elise shrugged. She didn’t want to hide another scrapbook in the closet. “I’m curious—what happened with the cougar?”

  “Oh, that.” Rebekah put the flag back on the rack. “The game-department guy didn’t find anything. He said to let him know if we see it again.”

  “Are the horses safe?”

  “He said the cougar is probably long gone. They have huge territories, up to ten square miles.”

  Elise relaxed just a little. “I was going to ask about Pepper too. I heard a rumor, but I saw her at school, and she debunked it. Sorry to hear she has an infection, however.”

  “She does have an infection, but—”

  “She doesn’t need a transplant, though, right?”

  “No. She does.” Rebekah’s voice was a near whisper.

  “Oh, Rebekah. I’m sorry.” Elise stepped backward.

  “We’ve known for a long time, kind of, but I had convinced myself that she was healed. Well, she’s not.”

  “What’s the first step?”

  “To find a kidney.”

  “You’ll be tested?”

  Rebekah shook her head. “There’s no point. I have the wrong blood type. I’m going to contact Pepper’s birth family.”

  “Birth family?” Elise asked. “Pepper’s adopted?”

  Rebekah nodded, a half smile on her face.

  “Is Reid adopted?”

  Rebekah shook her head. “No.”

  “So it’s an open adoption?” Elise felt confused. She never would have guessed that Pepper was adopted.

  “Not really. Her bio mom died when she was a baby. The grandma and an aunt live in Nevada.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot for you to deal with.” But at least Rebekah had known for years that Pepper’s situation was precarious; it wasn’t as though she’d just found out. Elise put her hand against her lower back.

  “Parenting two teenagers alone—now that’s a lot.” Rebekah picked up the horseshoe charms again. “Finding a kidney might be easier.”

  “Speaking of—” Elise nodded toward the window. Pepper bounced up the sidewalk.

  “Mom! Oh, hi, Elise.” Pepper hurried into the shop. “I wish I hadn’t told Ainsley I was sick. The whole school knows. Now everyone—except for Reid—wants to give me a kidney.” Pepper took the charms from Rebekah’s hand. “Look at these!”

  Elise stood. “I should get going.”

  “Mom, are we going to ride tomorrow? Before the game?”

  Rebekah nodded.

  “Can Elise come out and ride with us?”

  Elise shook her head. “You’ll be too busy.”

  “I’m closing the shop at four. Why don’t you bring the boys out—and your husband? The guys can all eat dinner and then go into town. We’ll have plenty of time to ride; the game doesn’t start until seven.”

  “All right.” Elise slung her purse to her other shoulder. She didn’t want to feel obligated to return a dinner invitation. “Let me bring a pan of enchiladas.”

  “That would be great.” Rebekah took the charms from Pepper. “I’ll make a salad and mix up some lemonade.”

  “See you tomorrow!” Pepper yelled out the door of the Scrap Shack. Elise waved. It had been Pepper who had invited her to ride. Was Rebekah just being polite to have her out again?

  Rebekah slapped the hot pads onto her kitchen counter. “Let’s get this show on the road so we can go ride.” She opened the back door. “Boys, Pepper, time to eat.”

  Elise pulled the enchiladas from the oven while Ted opened a jar of salsa.

  The ball stopped bouncing on the concrete court, followed by a thundering of feet up the steps. Mark shoved Reid through the door. “Watch it,” Reid snarled.

  “Easy,” Elise called out, slipping the oven mitts off her small hands.

  “Take your shoes off.” Rebekah bristled as she pulled a stack of plates from the cupboard, keeping an eye on the boys.

  Reid positioned himself in front of the island.

  “Guests first.” Mark nudged him aside. Rebekah smiled at Reid and nodded. He crossed his arms. Reid and Michael, with their short dark hair, looked more like brothers than Michael and Mark, although Reid also stood a head taller than Michael.

  Pepper opened the back door and slipped off her boots. “Your horses are saddled.”

  “What about the palomino?” Rebekah stirred the lemonade.

  “I don’t feel like riding.”

  “Come here, Pep.” Rebekah placed the back of her hand on Pepper’s forehead. “No fever.”

  “I’m just tired.” Pepper headed into the dining room.

  Rebekah dumped ice into the pitcher. The infection would make her lethargic; it didn’t mean anything more than that. “Reid, Dad will be here any minute. He and Ted will take you boys into town. Tell Dad that Pepper can go with him or wait and go with me.”

  A few minutes later Elise and Rebekah headed out the back door to the horses. Michael and Reid shot hoops, their empty plates stacked in the corner of the court. Mark stood on the corral rail, scratching Sky’s forehead.

  “Mark likes horses,” Reid said in a mocking tone, raising his dark eyebrows as he spun the ball on his finger.

  “Stuff it, Reid.” Mark climbed a rung higher on the corral.

  Rebekah shook her head at Reid.

  Michael fla
shed his metallic grin and then hooted. “Mark’s always been crazy about horses.”

  “Michael, stop.” Elise raised her hand against the glaring sun.

  “Mark, would you like to ride with us sometime?” Rebekah swung the gate to the corral open. Maybe the kid needed a true friend.

  Mark shook his head and jumped down from the rail, drawing away from her.

  “My sister used to sleep with her cowboy boots on.” Reid swung a hook shot toward the basket. “That’s the reason Mom and Dad got this stupid farm, because of stupid Pepper.”

  “Reid, that’s enough.” Rebekah grimaced. Reid grabbed the ball and slammed it against the backboard. A flock of geese rose up from the pasture, honking as they formed two lines.

  “Good luck at the game.” Rebekah swung her leg over Sky. “We’ll see you there.”

  Mark stomped up the back steps to the house.

  Rebekah leaned forward as Sky loped up the trail. She held the reins against his dark mane and dug her knees into his side. Every ride was an adventure; it was a thrill to control an animal weighing more than a thousand pounds. She felt ageless as the rhythmic beat of the horse’s hoofs drummed along the path, connecting the trees, the animal, and her body. She contained the urge to gallop Sky, to fly through the forest.

  She slowed and turned in the saddle. Dusty light drifted through the trees and over the silhouette of Elise bouncing along on the mare.

  “Plant your butt, and lean backward.” Rebekah stopped Sky. “Lean forward only when you want to go fast or you’re coming up a hill.”

  Elise shifted in the saddle, sitting up straight. “Do the horses remember the cougar?”

  “Sure, but as long as they can’t smell, hear, or see it, they’ll be fine.” Rebekah patted Sky’s side.

  “How long have you been riding?” Elise asked.

  “I spent summers on my grandparents’ ranch in Montana as a girl.” She urged Sky up a rocky spot in the trail. “Were you happy to move to Forest Falls?” she asked as they rode through a dappled patch of shade.

  “I’m fine with giving it a try.”