The Way of Women

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I’ll check and leave a message with Maybelle.”

  “Good.”

  The phone clicked in her ear. Frank never had been one for the niceties. How many years had it taken her to get over that schoolgirl crush she’d had on that older man? Six years back then made a lot of difference. And when he’d married, she’d put away girlish dreams, gone to the wedding with a smile on her face, and soaked her pillow that night. As soon as she graduated she headed for New York, sure that a modeling career awaited her. Frank had been the first to realize how the camera loved her. He’d been the first to tease the beanpole that she’d make a great model—and laughed at her gawkiness.

  Well, the last laugh had been on him. The celebrated face of the ’70s. Jennifer Stockton. She’d even made Time magazine due to her astute asset management that turned her into a household word and her investments into a portfolio, the envy of stockbrokers wherever she went.

  But no amount of money would buy her a ticket to circle the mountain, to drop her off on one of the ridges so she could personally see the destruction through the eye of her best friend.

  If the truck were her own, she’d put a CB or police radio in it.

  What would life be like if she dumped her fashion photographer career? Closed out her apartment, left New York for ever? Could she make a living as a photojournalist? Freelance photographer? Did she need to worry about making a living? Instead, let her money make money. Would she be sorry, look back with regret if she lost her place, her edge in the world? After all, any number of photographers were ready and willing, nay, willing to kill to take her place.

  She shifted into reverse and looked over her shoulder for traffic. As if this were really traffic. She never even drove in New York. Rented a car when she needed one.

  God only knows, she quoted her mother. One of these days she might have to decide if God even cared. These last days made her wonder.

  Thinking of God led her to Jesus, which led her to Lissa. Wonder if her mother has told her yet.

  She dropped by the camera shop to pick up the rolls she’d taken in to have developed, and she bagged up six more.

  “I’ve got those reprints ready for you too,” the man behind the counter said.

  “Good.” She took the packet he offered, paid, and headed back out to the truck to drive up I-5 to Toledo.

  After shooting another couple of rolls, laughing at the antics of a stand-up comedian who arrived to entertain those housed at the shelter, and listening as a woman storyteller enthralled her audience of all ages, she drove on home.

  Time to call Mellie and Lissa.

  “I don’t know,” Mellie said in response to her greeting. “I learned we won’t get Harv’s body back for days, perhaps weeks. I talked with our pastor about the funeral, and that’s what he found out. I feel like I’m wandering in a fog, and when someone calls me, they disappear before I can find them.”

  “Your appointment is tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you need a ride?”

  “No, Katheryn is going to come get us.”

  “Good. You’ll let me know what you find out?”

  “Yes. If you want.”

  “I want. Is Lissa awake?”

  “She’s right here. You want to talk with her?”

  “Yes.” Jenn could hear the two of them chatting.

  “Hi, Jenn.”

  “Hi there, Lissa.”

  “My daddy’s in heaven with Jesus.”

  Jenn caught her breath. Talk about laying it right out there. “I know.” Do I know? Do I believe that?

  “Mommy said he won’t come back.”

  That part I do know. “He loves you.”

  “I know.” A small silence. “Jesus does too.”

  “Yes, He sure does.”

  “Do you love Jesus?’

  Out of the mouths of babes. I used to. No, that wouldn’t cut it. “I think so, yes.”

  “ ’Cause He loves you and me and Mommy and Daddy and even Kitty.”

  The old tune tinkled in her head. Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. “Was your kitty glad to see you?” Little ones to him belong.

  “Can you hear her purring?”

  They are weak but He is strong. For when you are weak, then I am strong. “Yes. She has a good motor.”

  “I go to the doctor tomorrow, and then I get to see Lucky.”

  “Who is Lucky?” Never had she enjoyed a conversation more, in spite of the voices singing in her head.

  “Mrs. Sommers’s dog. Do you like dogs?”

  “I sure do. Let me talk to your mommy again, okay?”

  “Bye, Jenn. When we going to cut out more paper dolls?”

  “When I come see you.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. Let me talk to your mommy now.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye, Lissa.” Oh, God, if you can hear me, please keep her safe.

  “Call me, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Jenn took a breath and exhaled a decision. “I have to go back to New York Tuesday night. Can I come up and see you before then?”

  “Oh, please do.”

  “I’ll let you know when tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for calling.”

  They hung up, and Jenn flopped back on the sofa. She’d bring the photo of Lissa and Adolf. That would make her laugh. Lissa had the most carefree laugh she’d ever heard. When she felt better. But what lay ahead? What could she do to help bring smiles to that precious little face?

  MAY 23, 1980

  Snarled in traffic, Katheryn drummed the heel of her hand on the steering wheel. She should have left earlier—or later.

  Seattle traffic was getting worse each year. Usually, she managed to avoid it by doing her errands earlier in the day, one of the joys of a stay-at-home writer. Not that the writer had gotten much done lately. Her deadline loomed closer by the day. She counted the weeks to D-day. Less than six.

  David, you won’t be here to read my draft. The thought smote her chest like one of those hot rocks tossed out by the mountain. He’d always read for her, making helpful comments, cheering her on and helping her improve. Three books published and a bunch of short stories and articles in children’s magazines. Giving her the space to do something she’d always dreamed of—until this last book. He’d been too down to be much help. Would the quality of the book suffer because of that?

  What if I can’t write anymore? What will I do? Besides be a grandma, that is.

  The baby will never have a grandpa. A spurt of tears blurred the rear end of the car in front of her.

  “Stop this! Stop it right now. You are acting like there is no hope. You have to keep hoping.” Talking aloud didn’t help a lot when she had to sniff after every other word or so. She dug in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose, mopped her eyes.

  Think of Mellie. She knows her husband isn’t coming back. And with her darling little one so sick. How will she cope?

  Lissa. God, help that poor baby.

  Kevin and Susan, so strong and capable. But no Brian. The tears brought on sobs, sobs turned to howls, and she finally pulled over to keep from having an accident. She locked her hands around her shoulders and rocked in her grief. Brian, my Brian, child of my heart, I am torn apart. Oh, God, Brian. This child late in life, such an unexpected gift. His smile, his sensitive heart, all the good pieces of both his father and me.

  Her howls abated, and she let her forehead rest on her clenched fists on the top of the steering wheel. Howls to sobs to sniffs and mopping up again. Momentarily drained of tears, she put the car back in gear, flicked on her turn signal, and watched for a chance to get back in the steady stream of traffic.

  Nothing. No one backed off to allow her entrance. Shouting a stream of profanities at the faceless drivers, she finally gunned it and merged, causing the car behind her to brake and honk. She thought of flipping him or her the bird, but already remorse for the language she’d used made her
want to duck her head.

  Lucky’s barking greeted her as she opened the door from the garage. Dancing feet, a whirling tail, happy yips and whimpers.

  “There’s a good girl, oh, you sweetheart.” She leaned down to get doggy kisses and rub the liver-colored ears. When properly greeted, Lucky went past Katheryn and checked the garage for Brian, as she always did.

  “He’s not coming home, dog, sorry.” Katheryn fought the tears again, but she had as little control over them as before. With rivers streaming down her face, she dug a dog biscuit out of the canister and gave it to the dog.

  “Where is Kevin?” She retrieved a couple of tissues from the square box by the telephone and wiped eyes, nose, and cheeks again.

  The house, wearing that forlorn smell of no one home, felt cold and empty.

  After guzzling a glass of water, she checked for messages. On the bulletin board she found one from Kevin.

  “Gone to work. Be back around six. Call your mother!” Your mother, not grandma. He must have fielded more than his quota of calls. Katheryn glanced at the clock, five thirty. Eight thirty in Florida, couldn’t use time for an excuse. She shrugged off a deep breath and picked up the phone. Like a lifetime ago, last Sunday she’d been deciding what good things to make for a homecoming dinner. Rejoicing in the number of pages written, hoping The Lady had worked her miracles on David’s heart. More than a lifetime ago.

  With each number dialed she almost hung up the phone, but when her mother came on the line, it was all she could do to not burst out in tears.

  “Have you heard anything?”

  “No. There’s no sign, but if they camped where we usually went, that was right in the blast zone.”

  “I’ll never understand why he went up there like that.”

  “How are things with you?” Katheryn needed to change the subject. Why did she already feel like yelling at her mother?

  “And to take Brian too.”

  Katheryn’s thought exactly, but what good did it do to dwell on that?

  “Did he ever take any medications for that depression?”

  “Mother, can we talk about something else?”

  “Well.” Huffy came across the wires.

  “When I know something, I will tell you. There have been no survivors since Tuesday.” Just speaking the words made her sink down on the desk chair. No survivors.

  The count was fourteen dead and ninety missing. So many others in the same position as she. Not knowing.

  She half listened as her mother rattled on, making appropriate comments; at least she hoped they were appropriate.

  Lucky leaned against her knee, brown eyes watching her every move.

  When Katheryn could finally insert a reasonable goodbye, she did so and, with a sigh of relief, hung up the phone. She’d wait a few minutes to regain some semblance of sanity before calling her father-in-law. This was his son who was missing—and his favorite grandson. Brian and his grandfather had fished many a local river and taken the boat out in the Sound, Puget Sound, where they’d seen killer whales, harbor seals, sail-boarders, Jet Skis, Wave Runners, and all manner of boats to seagoing ships and ferries that plied the routes between Bremerton, Bainbridge Island, Vashon Island, and Seattle, along with points north. Puget Sound with all its harbors, bays and fingerlings, islands and inflowing rivers. How would the old man handle the loss of two of his favorite people in the entire world?

  How could she talk to him? What could she say?

  The phone rang again before she picked up the receiver to dial. Hope leaped in her heart.

  “Hello?”

  “Any word?”

  “No, Dad, I would have called you if I knew anything.”

  “They were right in the blast zone.”

  “I know.”

  “I introduced him to that area years ago. We loved it up there.” His voice broke. “I looked at the maps.”

  “They might have gone somewhere else.”

  “No.” The sadness pulsed over the wire. “I know my son. That was his thinking place, and he loved fishing that creek. We always caught fish there.”

  “Kevin told you that our bug was roosting in a huge tree?”

  “Yep. Saw it in a newspaper.”

  Katheryn heard Kevin come to the front door. Lucky’s toenails clicked on the hardwood floor as she went to greet him. Her joyful bark brought a sting to Katheryn’s eyes again.

  “How are you doing, dear?”

  “Not too good. It’s easier being down there than here.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “It should be me asking you that.”

  “Why? All I know is, God willing, we’ll get through this. The valley of the shadow, I’ve walked it a couple of times now, but not for my son.”

  “I love you.”

  “Yeah, good thing we have each other. How are Susan and Kevin?”

  “Kevin’s right here. You want to talk with him?”

  “Later. Call me when you can.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  Kevin’s arms came around her waist as she stood to hang up the phone. She leaned against his strength and reached up with one hand to pat his cheek.

  “Susan’s on her way over.”

  “Okay.” How could she comfort her children when she had no comfort herself?

  “Pastor Steve called.”

  “I should call him.”

  “He asked what he could do.”

  How should I know? He needs to tell me what we do. “I don’t know.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Wait, I guess.” Hope. For what? Bodies? Some piece that will say they are indeed gone? God, not like that awful time at the morgue. I don’t want to do that again. Not ever.

  “Have you eaten? Can I fix you a cup of tea?” She could hear herself in his voice. Do something, fix something, food and tea could make most anything right. Except for this. Nothing could make it right.

  “Mom!” Susan burst through the front door.

  “In the kitchen.”

  Kevin patted their backs as the two women cried together, locked in each other’s arms. When the storm had passed, Susan confessed, “I am so mad at him I could …” She shook her head. “I mean, this, this was so unnecessary.” She spit out the last word.

  Katheryn shrugged, blowing her nose, now gone raw from all the wiping. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  “I’m sorry.” She hugged her mother again. “I’m so glad you are home.”

  Kevin set three mugs of tea on the table. “Sugar, honey? Milk?”

  “Please.”

  The three added what they wanted and sat stirring the steaming liquid, the clink of spoons against pottery taking the place of words that no one could utter.

  “So, what do we do?” Kevin broke the nonsilence.

  “If you mean me, tomorrow I am going to pick up Mellie and her daughter in Tacoma and bring them up to Fred Hutchinson, then take them home again.” That should use up a good part of the day.

  “But what if someone calls?” Kevin asked.

  “The machine will pick it up, and I’ll call back when I can.”

  “You don’t think there’s much chance, do you?” Susan failed to disguise an accusation, if she’d tried. No matter what one’s training, it all fled when one’s own family was involved.

  Katheryn understood. But right now she didn’t need her own daughter making her feel worse.

  “Susan.” Kevin glared at her.

  Katheryn tipped her head back, trying to ease the knots at the base of her skull. “I am trying my best to keep hope alive.”

  Lucky whined at her knee. “Kevin, would you please let her out?”

  Susan clasped her hands around her tea mug. “I’m sorry.” She tossed her hair back with a flick of her head. “It’s just that … that you never think these things can happen to your own family.”

  “Ann Wholly called me and said Professor Williamson had turned down the appointment. Your dad would have been off
ered the deanship.” Katheryn shook her head, ever so gently. “If he’d only known.”

  “You think it would have made a difference?”

  “Perhaps. Who knows.” She pushed the mug away. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to go take a shower, two sleeping pills, and go to bed.”

  Susan stood and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’m going home, then, and I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

  “You want me to stay?” Kevin asked.

  “That’s up to you.” Katheryn dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m too tired to make any kind of decisions tonight.”

  After her shower, she glanced at the bed she’d shared with David these thirty-two years. When tears blurred the room, she went down the hall and crawled into the guest bed.

  Lissa’s doctor appointment the next morning went about as expected. Katheryn waited for them in the waiting room until a nurse came to the door and called her.

  “I think she needs some moral support,” she said, leading her to another room. “As if this wasn’t bad enough.”

  “Yes, is there anything I should know?”

  “Dr. Thomas is the best in this new field. She’s lucky to have him.”

  After the introductions, Katheryn took the chair indicated and located a small notebook in her purse. Long years earlier she’d learned the wisdom of taking notes in a doctor consultation.

  “I’ve been explaining our procedures to Mrs. Sedor, and I have some brochures, too, for any questions that come up. While we have approved Lissa for the procedure, the sad news is that we have a waiting list for at least sixty days. I have taken the liberty of adding her into that slot, but if you decide to try something else, you need to let me know.”

  “What else is there?” Mellie looked from the child sleeping in her arms to the man behind the desk.

  “I know. We’ll do all we can to work with your local doctor in keeping her as healthy as possible. I just wish we had more units.”

  “So, is there anything else Mellie needs to do?”

  “My nurse will give you the stack of forms to be filled out. You’ll need to make copies of your insurance policies. Your doctor has already sent all of his files. You need to be prepared to come any time, since if there is an unexpected opening, we will call you. If you are not available, we will go to the next one on the list.”