Scrap Everything

by Leslie Gould

  Rebekah collapsed onto the bed. “I can’t take this much longer.”

  “I’ll help you fold them.” He pushed the chair to the foot of the bed. He inspected each garment and draped the unwrinkled ones over the footboard.

  “I tried to call earlier. We have good news.” She pushed her pillow against the headboard. “Elise is a match.”

  Patrick dropped Reid’s basketball jersey on the floor. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she going to do it?”

  “She signed the donor form; she intends to. Nothing is for sure, right? We learned that the last time. But she looks like a very strong possibility.”

  “What a relief.” He picked up the jersey. “I never dreamed that Elise would do this for us.”

  “That’s not all. Jamie called late this afternoon and asked me to bring Pepper in tomorrow to check her function and symptoms.”

  “Why wait to do the surgery?”

  “They have to schedule it with the surgery team, and Elise wants Ted to be home.” Rebekah yanked a tissue out of the box. “I wasn’t going to cry about this, because you know it’s not a sure thing until the surgery actually happens, until the kidney starts to work.” She dabbed at her eyes.

  Patrick put out his hand for a tissue. Rebekah handed him hers and grabbed another one. He sat down beside her for a moment, then stood and headed to the door. “Come on. Let’s go watch Pepper sleep.”

  They stood together, hand in hand, and stared at her as if she were a newborn. She slept on her back, her arms curled over her head. “Let’s pray that Ted comes home sooner than expected.” Rebekah leaned down and stroked a blond wisp from Pepper’s eye.

  “Let’s pray that all of the Sheltons stay healthy and safe.” Patrick squeezed Rebekah’s hand.

  She shivered. Elise had seemed to be the least generous person she had ever met. Now she was giving her a gift that no one else could. She shivered again.

  “Cold?” Patrick asked, putting his arms around her.

  Rebekah nodded.

  “Let’s go watch Reid sleep.” Patrick headed to the door.

  “Fair is fair.” Rebekah turned away from Pepper. “If we don’t, I’m sure we’ll hear about it in the morning.”

  “Did you tell Reid about Elise?” Patrick asked.

  Rebekah nodded. “And her boys too. They all seemed a little bit in awe.”

  “Your kidney function is at twelve percent.” Dr. Thomas felt the shunt in Pepper’s arm. “They did a good job with this. You’re ready to go.”

  “Elise is going to donate her kidney.” Pepper zipped her backpack.

  “Jamie told me.” Dr. Thomas smiled and nodded. “In the meantime, you may have to start dialysis. We’ll see where you are next week.”

  “Why?” Pepper asked. “If I’m getting a transplant?”

  “We may need to do something sooner,” Dr. Thomas said.

  “Why can’t we just do the surgery now?” Pepper asked.

  The doctor closed Pepper’s folder and stood up. “We have to coordinate everyone’s schedule.”

  As they walked out of the office, Rebekah took Pepper’s hand, knowing she was being overprotective.

  Rebekah turned the pickup onto Terwilliger Boulevard, inching forward in the bumper-to-bumper traffic. A group of runners came through the trees in the park. She envied anyone who had the time to do more than survive.

  “Mom, are you all right with Elise doing this?” Pepper unzipped her backpack and took out a skein of variegated blue and brown yarn.

  Rebekah nodded.

  “I thought you said it would be better if it came off the cadaver list.”

  “It’s hard to explain, sweet pea. But if this is the kidney that God is going to give us, then I’ll be forever grateful—both to God and to Elise.”

  Rebekah pulled on Pepper’s arm when they reached the house. “Come on, Pep. We’re home. You’ve got to wake up. You’re too big to carry.”

  Pepper tucked her head under Rebekah’s arm.

  “Are you feeling okay, sweet pea?”

  “I’m just tired.” Pepper swung her legs out of the truck, one at a time.

  “Let’s get you in.”

  “I didn’t do all my homework.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll write a note.” Rebekah pulled her daughter close, supporting her as they struggled toward the house.

  Elise dashed through the door of the Scrap Shack, trying to dodge the rain, with Mark’s scrapbook tucked in her book bag. She hadn’t even started the album, so she couldn’t possibly finish it before the surgery. She hurried up the stairs, as Midnight Madness had already started. Elise pulled off her hood—and someone started to clap. Others joined in.

  They were clapping for her.

  Her face reddened, and she shook her head. “Don’t. Please.”

  “No, do.” Rebekah stepped forward.

  “Any of you would do it.” Elise put the books and pictures on the table. “In fact, all of you would have done it much sooner than I did if you could have. Pepper would be healthy by now.”

  “Stop.” Rebekah took Elise’s parka. “Just take a bow and say thank you.”

  “Thank you.” Elise bowed.

  They started to clap again.

  “Stop. I’m embarrassed.” Elise pulled her scarf from her neck.

  “We’re all praying that Ted will come sooner, that the surgery will happen ASAP. So”—Sandi grabbed her notebook—“we need a plan.”

  Elise said, “I need to finish Mark’s book. Okay, I’ll be honest. I need to start Mark’s book.” She laughed. “I’m feeling guilty about this—just as I knew I would.” She definitely saw the value in creating the album for Mark; she just hadn’t been able to make herself do it.

  Sandi pulled the book across the table. “We’ll do Mark’s album. Just separate the photos. We’ll even help you pick out the paper. Then you can do the journaling later.”

  Would they do that for her? “Are you serious?” She would enjoy working on the captions while she recovered.

  “We’d love to, right?” Sandi grinned.

  The other women nodded.

  “I’ll help too.” Rebekah put her arm around Elise.

  “No, you won’t,” Elise and Sandi said in unison.

  “Rebekah, we’re going to help you prioritize.” Sandi opened the notebook. “You have to get the shop ready for me to take over. Where are you on inventory? Do any orders need to be placed?”

  “I’ll go over them tomorrow. Come in Monday, and I’ll give you a list. We can negotiate your salary then.”

  “What salary?” Sandi held her pen in midair. “I am not taking any salary. Who said anything about salary?” Sandi’s face reddened.

  “I did. And Patrick.”

  “No. What are you talking about? I never intended to take a salary.” Sandi pointed the pen at Rebekah. “I can volunteer at the hospital or the school or the animal shelter or here. I want to volunteer here.” Sandi slammed her pen onto the table.

  Rebekah jumped. “Sandi—”

  “Rebekah, don’t make me mad.” Sandi picked up her pen and smiled.

  Elise put her purse under her chair. Pastor Jim had opened a fund at church to help the Grahams, and she had written a check. She knew Sandi and John had contributed too. She could imagine families at school giving. Hopefully it would all add up—without Rebekah and Patrick ever knowing who gave.

  “So,” Sandi continued in an even voice, “your family will need extra help during the month Pepper has to stay in Portland.”

  Rebekah nodded.

  “We can arrange meals. John can drive Reid around—Mark and Michael too.” Sandi pointed her pen at Elise.

  “Reid could use some extra attention. He’s having a hard time. This will just make it harder. He feels … overlooked.” Rebekah sat in a chair beside Sandi.

  “Maybe John could just stay at your house for the whole month.” Sandi tapped the pen on the table. “That way Reid will be h
ome, and Patrick can go back and forth. Michael and Mark can stay there the first week—maybe longer so that Mark can take care of the horses. Do you think he would do that, Elise?”

  Elise nodded.

  “They’ll want to be with Ted,” Rebekah said.

  “Maybe they could all get a hotel for a couple of days,” Elise suggested.

  “Mark loose in Portland while Ted is with you at the hospital? Doesn’t sound like a good idea.” Sandi tapped her pen again. “What will you need at your house, Elise?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Meals, laundry, cleaning.”

  “If the boys are with John, we’ll be fine.”

  “How about when you get home from the hospital?”

  Elise shrugged. “Focus on Rebekah’s family. Let’s wait and see what we need. Ted will probably have everything under control.”

  “Elise, don’t do this. Let us help you.” Rebekah tore open a package of paper.

  Sandi pointed the pen at Rebekah.

  Rebekah laughed. “I mean let them help you. Just accept it. I’ll help you later; I’ll help you for the rest of your life.”

  Elise shivered. Pepper would need another kidney by the time she was middle aged. At least it was only once for Elise. “Help me with the scrapbook. You can’t know how much that means to me.”

  Coffee in hand, Elise sat down at the computer. Michael was up. Mark had five more minutes before his alarm went off. Maybe she had an e-mail from Ted.

  Bingo. But first she opened an e-mail from Mr. Jenkins, determined to save the best for last.

  I wanted to let you know that Mark turned in seventy-five percent of his work last week.

  Elise smiled but didn’t reply.

  She opened the message from Ted.

  Dad e-mailed me. He said that Sandi said that Pepper’s kidney function is down more. How timely, considering what is going on over here. Long story, but Robert is better and will be back in Iraq by the end of this week, and I’ll be on a plane two days after that. Talk with the coordinator at the hospital about scheduling the surgery in two weeks. Give the boys my love. Thanks for everything that you do for us.

  Elise took a sip of coffee. Coffee! She hurried into the bathroom and spit it in the sink. She’d better stop now.

  She yelled up the stairs to Mark. “Did your alarm go off? Up and at ’em.”

  An inarticulate moan drifted toward her.

  Michael hurried out of the family room. “I need to be at school early. The chess team has playoffs for the tournament.”

  “Eat breakfast first.”

  “I’ll take a granola bar.”

  “Take a banana too,” Elise insisted.

  “I got an e-mail from Dad. He might be home in nine days,” Michael yelled from the kitchen.

  “That’s great. I got one too.” Elise picked up a dirty sock from the dining room floor. “Hopefully we can do the surgery sooner.” Elise headed to the garage and tossed the sock on top of the washing machine.

  “Reid will be glad when it’s over with.” She heard Michael rummaging in the cupboard.

  “Why?”

  “It’s all anyone in his family talks about.”

  Elise stood in the kitchen doorway. “How is Reid?”

  “Neglected.”

  “Come on.”

  “No, he is. He feels acutely neglected.”

  “How are you, Michael?” She tousled his hair. At least she could still reach the top of his head.

  He flung his backpack over his shoulder. “At least Pepper’s really sick. Mark just fakes his problems to soak up all the attention.”

  After Mark headed out the door, Elise dialed John’s number.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Fine.” She stood at the living room window. The trees across the street had grown green buds overnight. “Um, John, I want to thank you for your help, for spending time with the boys, helping me with the cars.” She took a breath. “And I want you to know how much I like Sandi and that I wouldn’t want you to make your decisions based on what you thought was best for us.”

  “Thanks, Elise.” He paused. “I don’t know what will happen with Sandi, but I appreciate your call.”

  Mom.” Pepper stood at the window of the Scrap Shack. “Are we going to lose the shop and the farm?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What does Dad think?”

  Rebekah put down her calculator. They were both overwhelmed with Sandi’s generosity to manage the shop for free. That alone was a huge savings, and Pastor Jim had sent a gift from the church of four thousand dollars. So much for God forgetting them.

  “Dad and I both see God at work.” Rebekah had opened an account at the bank for Pepper’s antirejection drugs. “I think things will come together. I think that God is working things out.”

  “I’ll be good after the surgery, and I’ll take all of the medicine that I need to. I won’t complain; I won’t be a whiner.”

  “It’s okay if you complain.” Rebekah winked. “Just a little.”

  “Jamie said the antirejection medicine might make me fat.”

  “Did she use the word fat?”

  “No.” Pepper sat down in a chair and took her knitting from her backpack.

  “I think puffy is the word. It’s from the prednisone.” Rebekah put her arm around Pepper.

  “Mom, not here.” Pepper shrank away.

  Rebekah looked around. They were alone.

  “Mom.”

  “Oh, sweet pea, not you too.”

  “Not me too, what?”

  “Not wanting hugs.” Was that it? Rebekah paused and then whispered, “Not you growing up too.”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  Elise flung open the door to the Scrap Shack.

  “Hey, girl,” Rebekah called out. “Two more days and you won’t be single anymore.”

  “One more day until Valentine’s Day. Other years it mattered that Ted was gone. This year I don’t care.” Elise glanced at her watch. “He should be boarding his plane in an hour.”

  “Hey, Elise.” Pepper stuffed her knitting through the opening in her bag. “I was wondering something. Will it be your kidney or my kidney after the surgery?”

  “It’s a gift, sweet pea. It will be all yours.”

  “I’ll take good care of it, I promise.”

  Elise gave Pepper a hug.

  “Wait a minute.” Rebekah stuffed her hands into her back pockets. “You’ll let Elise hug you but not me?”

  Pepper shrugged.

  “I brought the rest of Mark’s photos for Sandi. I grouped them in envelopes. She said she would pick out the paper today.”

  “Sandi will do way more embellishments than you like.”

  “I don’t care. I’m just happy not to have to do this book.”

  “Is scrapbooking really that bad?” Rebekah asked.

  Elise laughed. “Do you want to know why I really decided to donate my kidney? To get out of doing this book.” Elise’s cell rang. “It’s Jamie,” she mouthed to Rebekah as she listened. “That’s right; he’ll be here in two days.” Elise paused. “Friday sounds great.” Another pause. “She’s right here. I’m at her shop.” Elise handed Rebekah the phone.

  “Looks like we’re all set,” Jamie said. “I just wanted to make sure that Elise’s husband was on schedule. She’ll have her appointment with the anesthesiologist tomorrow, and then we’ll do the final match Thursday and surgery on Friday.”

  “Excellent.”

  Elise pointed to the computer. Rebekah nodded.

  Jamie asked about Pepper and then hung up. Rebekah handed Elise her phone.

  “Look.” Elise tilted her head toward Rebekah’s computer screen. It was an e-mail from Ted.

  I tried to call, but the satellite must have tipped. I didn’t make the flight today—our convoy was rerouted. I’m working on a new flight, but I may not get home until Thursday, Friday morning at the very latest. Everyone here is
pulling for Pepper. Everyone wants me home with you ASAP. I’m sorry.

  Hugs to the boys.

  Love,

  Ted

  “Why was his convoy rerouted?” Elise covered her face with her hands. The final days were the hardest; she always had to fight her superstitions that something horrible would happen at the last minute.

  “He’s fine.” Rebekah read over Elise’s shoulder. “He said everything is okay.” She took Elise’s hand. “You know how the army is—at least you keep telling me how it is. Missing paychecks, last-minute changes—all of that. Maybe they’re doing road construction on the way to Baghdad.” She was talking at lightning speed. “But I’ll call Jamie, just in case we need to bump it out a few days. You know Pepper has stayed at twelve percent; she could probably go another week.”

  “Don’t call. I’ll do the surgery even if he’s not here.”

  “Elise,” Rebekah said, “I want to be fair to you.”

  “This is being fair to me. The sooner the better. Right?” Elise leaned against the counter.

  Rebekah bit her lower lip. The sooner the better for Pepper, sure. She sighed. “Then I want you and the boys to come out the night before the surgery. John will come early that morning and get them to school. Patrick will drive you, Pepper, and me to the hospital. I can’t stand the thought of you being alone.”

  Elise agreed.

  “But we’ll pray,” Rebekah added, “that Ted will get here on time.”

  Rebekah slid the bag of groceries onto the counter. “How nice of your mom to make dinner.”

  Mark nodded from the breakfast bar as he slurped his tomato soup.

  “Where are Reid and Michael?” she asked.

  “Upstairs. They already ate.”

  Pepper reached for a grilled cheese sandwich.

  “Sorry, sweet pea, no white bread.” Rebekah wedged four frozen pizzas into the freezer. She had been late closing the shop, trying to get everything ready for Sandi, and then she’d remembered there was hardly any food in the house.

  Pepper scowled and slumped down on the stool next to Mark.

  “Soon.” Rebekah slung the gallon of milk into the fridge. The doctors all said that Pepper would feel better right away.