W
hen the Sunday service ended, Andrea did not argue about staying with Michael and Jenny and the girls for the Summer Sunday Social. The church youth group was sponsoring the event as a service project that was planned for every Sunday in July and August.
While Katy and Hannah were in another room playing games with the other children under the supervision of youth group volunteers, Jenny and Michael offered to serve some of the light refreshments to Andrea while she sat at their table with her back to the wall. The long white tablecloth concealed her foot elevated on a box beneath the table, thanks to Michael’s thoughtfulness. She was rather comfortable now, although her arms ached from using crutches. Using little stuffed squirrels as protective pads on the crutches was no help, and she made
a mental note to try to replace the squirrels as soon as she could.
Across the room, Madge was holding court, receiving congratulations on her award. She looked stunning, as always. Her pale blond hair was perfect, not a hair out of place. She wore a long aqua dress, printed with sprigs of violets, that looked cool and was very becoming. As Madge chatted, however, Andrea noted just a touch of sadness in her eyes—a sadness Andrea suspected lay in the fact that Russell had not been able to come home to share in his wife’s joy at receiving her award.
Not that Madge ever complained. She never protested about how much time Russell had to spend on the road. Ever. Not about missed birthdays or anniversaries. Not about spending so much time apart. Not now and not when their boys had been growing up.
Madge was too loyal, too committed to her marriage and too much in love with her husband to utter a word against him.
Andrea let out a sigh. Whether it was inspired by a little jealousy or a sister’s protective instinct, she was not sure. All she knew was that if Russell Stevens loved his wife as much as Madge loved him, he would have come home by plane, train, car or on horseback, if necessary, and shared Madge’s special moment last night and attended services with her today, too.
“Judge not,” she murmured, hoping to retrieve some of the grace she had lost by letting her love for her sister lead her to selfish thoughts. She opened the church bulletin to distract herself and saw the advertisement for the new Shawl Ministry that Madge had mentioned the other day.
The advertisement filled a quarter-page box inside a border decorated with small crosses formed from pairs of knitting needles. It read:
Announcing the newly formed
Church of Holy Faith
Shawl Ministry
Wanted: Volunteers committed to prayer, fellowship
and the desire to serve Him by ministering
to others
Required: Willing hands and loving hearts
Knitting skills desirable, but not necessary
Come two afternoons a month to knit or teach
others to knit!
New Members Meeting: August 14, 7 p.m.
Welleswood Community Center
Donations of materials also appreciated
Memories began to surface, but before they came into focus, Andrea heard someone approaching. When she looked up, Peggy Fallon greeted her with a smile. “I heard about what happened. You look great, considering.” She sat down next to Andrea. “Do you feel as good as you look?”
Andrea groaned. “You’re a sweetheart. I certainly hope I look a lot better than I feel. Mostly, I just tire out a whole lot faster than I like these days.”
“Who doesn’t?” She tapped the advertisement Andrea had been reading. “I think the Shawl Ministry is a great idea. Tim’s going to print some signs to put up around town to see how many people we can get involved.”
“He’s got a good heart,” Andrea murmured.
Peggy laughed. “And you’ve got a very persuasive sister.”
“Madge?” Andrea asked, although she knew only too well how persuasive Madge could be. Who else could have convinced Andrea to attend the meeting for the Shawl Ministry?
“None other. But the printing won’t take too much time. Since Tim runs the church bulletin, he already has the ad in the computer. Touch a few buttons and keys, and he’s got the size he needs for the signs. They should be ready by noon tomorrow. He’s got a lot of work to do, and we were wondering if maybe you could let Jamie Martin take some time off tomorrow to pick up the signs and distribute them to the businesses in town? We need to get the signs into shop windows as quickly as we can. Otherwise, Jamie can stop in as soon as he finishes up work.”
Andrea toyed with the corner of the bulletin. “I didn’t realize you knew Jamie was going to be helping out at the agency. Word sure does spread fast.”
Peggy patted Andrea’s hand. “Good news, bad news and all the news in-between. That means, fortunately, for Jamie’s sake, that yesterday’s news gets forgotten rather quickly. He really impressed a lot of people by volunteering to help you while you recuperate. You’ve impressed them even more by letting him.”
Andrea waved away the compliment. “He’s a good kid. It was just an accident.” She paused. “I’m not sure I would ask him to distribute the signs, though. Talking to the different business owners, some of whom might want to take him to task for—”
“He knows that. He said he would do it, but only if you gave your permission.”
“Jamie already agreed? Are you sure?”
“He’s right next door helping with the little ones. You could ask him yourself.”
“No. It’s fine. If Jamie wants to do it, then sure. He can see Tim at noon.”
Peggy stood up. “Thanks. I’ll tell Tim. Oh, I almost forgot. Tim said to tell you to send Doris Blake over early. Say nine-thirty? He’ll try to get those business cards finished by the end of the day. And if you need anything, anything at all…”
“I will. Thank you.”
As Peggy made her way back to her husband, a clamor of voices drew Andrea’s attention. When she looked in the direction of the disturbance, which had evolved into a round of applause, she clapped her hand to her heart.
Russell Stevens, her brother-in-law, had entered the room and was approaching his wife with a bouquet of purple daisies in one hand and a dazzling smile on his face. At two inches over six feet, he was still as trim and good-looking as he had been in college when Madge first met him and brought him home to meet the family. True, he now sported a few gray hairs at his temples, and the years had etched character into his face, but he still commanded attention in any gathering.
Attentive and handsome, he was the husband every woman dreamed of claiming for their own. Generous and outgoing, he was the neighbor everyone wanted living next door. In short, he was the town’s favorite adopted son, active in community affairs and local politics whenever he was home from his travels.
Andrea’s eyes filled with tears of joy as Madge hurried
into her husband’s embrace. He hugged her to him and swung her off her feet, much to the delight of the crowd. As charming as ever, Russell Stevens conquered every heart in the room, including Andrea’s, and guilt tugged at her conscience. “Judge not,” she repeated, and offered a quick prayer as penance for her earlier negative thoughts.
Madge beamed as she led Russell over to the table. Surprise and joy had erased all signs of sadness in her eyes. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she gushed. “Look, Andrea. Russell’s here!”
Andrea laughed. “As you can see, you’ve made my sister very happy. Thanks, Russell. The award means so much more, now that you’re here to share it with her.”
He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I wanted to get back in time for the banquet last night. Unfortunately, I had some car trouble on the way. I couldn’t get my hands on a rental until late last night.” He paused, and his expression grew troubled. “I’m sorry to hear about…about everything. Then to have such an avoidable accident with that boy. I’m terribly sorry,” he murmured.
Grateful that he did not mention the word
cancer
with so many people around who might overhear, Andrea swallowed hard. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing pretty well. Madge is taking good care of me. Jenny, too.”
He squeezed Madge to his side. “That’s my girl.” He looked down at her. “What kind of plans have you made for the afternoon?”
Madge blushed. “I—I promised Andrea I would come by and work on her garden.”
“Don’t be silly,” Andrea countered. “The flower beds can
survive another day or two. Go. Spend some time with your husband,” she urged.
Russell grinned. “I’ve made reservations at La Casita for four o’clock. Think you’re up to celebrating with us, Andrea? I called Michael early this morning. He and Jenny are coming.”
Madge elbowed him. “Michael knew you were coming home today?”
He feigned injury. “Not until this morning. What do you say, Andrea? Are you feeling up to coming? It would mean a lot if you could.”
Andrea hesitated. Her shoulder was still very sore, and her ankle was throbbing. She was also a little tired. But the mere mention of La Casita, the new Mexican restaurant on the avenue, had her mouth watering and eased every ache and pain in her body. “I’d walk a mile on these ridiculous crutches to have one of their tortilla samplers. All I need is a nap first,” she replied.
“We’ll pick you up,” Madge offered.
“And we’ll take you home whenever you’ve decided you’ve had enough,” Russell added, just as Jenny and Michael arrived with plates of cookies and glasses of punch. After a hug from Jenny and a handshake from Michael, Russell took Madge’s hand. “If you folks don’t mind, we’re going to start making our way out of here. Michael, we’ll see you and Jenny at the restaurant. Andrea, we’ll pick you up at quarter to four.” Without waiting for any of them to respond, Russell guided Madge back through a maze of well-wishers.
Michael excused himself to check on the girls, but Jenny sat down next to Andrea and sighed. “I’d love a nap. How about you?”
“Already have one planned.”
Jenny smiled. “I’m sure Russell and Madge will ‘take a nap,’ too. Sometimes I wish…I wish you had someone, too, like me and Madge.”
Andrea moistened her lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind so much anymore. Once in a while, though, I wonder what it would be like if Peter had lived.” She shook away the sadness that nearly enveloped her. “But it’s okay. I have you and Madge. I have my business and my clients. And the kids. I call them a lot.”
“I know, but it’s not the same as having a husband.”
Andrea lowered her eyes. Jenny was right. It was not the same. Even with all the blessings she had received, it just was not the same.
It was different, this being alone. She was not lonely. She was just…alone. Always alone. She nearly fell into the trap of self-pity before she brightened. “I have the ‘girls’ now.”
Jenny nibbled on a coconut bar. “They’re cats. They don’t count.”
“They snuggle. They purr. And they never complain,” Andrea argued. She took a brownie and broke it in half.
“Like Ed Miller did?”
Andrea chuckled. She had dated Ed Miller for all of two weeks before realizing he was more interested in having a maid or housekeeper than a wife. “I haven’t thought of him in years.”
“Little wonder. What about Duane Allen?”
“Derek,” Andrea corrected, popping the half brownie into her mouth and savoring the taste of chocolate.
Jenny shrugged. “Duane, Derek, whatever. He didn’t last very long, either.”
Andrea swallowed her brownie and took a sip of punch. “I didn’t find it endearing to have my date suggest, on the third date, mind you, that I could remodel my home to accommodate
his
collection of Sinatra memorabilia and I could fit a new three-car garage on my property to house the antique cars he was going to restore with part of my salary. After we were married, of course.”
Jenny gasped. “He didn’t!”
“Did you ever ride by Linda Sullivan’s house? I mean, before she married Derek and became Linda Allen? She didn’t have a three-car garage when she started to date him.”
Jenny held up her hand. “Okay. You’re right. Point taken. There are a lot of frogs out there.” She paused to cover a yawn with the back of her hand. “Tell me about Robert St. Helen. You dated him for what? Two years? Madge was absolutely convinced you were going to marry him.”
Andrea stiffened. She had never told anyone why she had suddenly stopped dating Robert, even after he moved away from Welleswood. “Two years, three months and sixteen days. Then he hit me for the first and last time.”
Jenny grabbed Andrea’s arm. “He hit you? He
hit
you? Robert?”
“Charming men aren’t always quite as charming as they appear. They’re not all like Michael or Russell,” Andrea whispered. At the time, the pain of disappointment had been far deeper than the pain of the bruise he had inflicted, but even now, the memory of the dreams he had destroyed in a single burst of anger was very real. “Being alone isn’t
being lonely. It’s just being alone. Considering some of the possible alternatives, I think I’m better off that way,” she whispered, wondering whether she was trying harder to convince Jenny or herself.
T
he only businesses open on Sunday afternoon in Welleswood were the restaurants. A cloud of international aromas from a Mexican, French, Italian, Chinese, Thai and two traditional American restaurants hung together in the warm humid air and mingled with the gentler scent of potted summer flowers that added the vibrant color of summer to the avenue.
From her seat in La Casita, Madge could see pedestrians strolling along the new brick-and-concrete sidewalks, but there was little automobile traffic today. Groups of seniors had gathered to sit on benches beneath the shade of trees also gnarled and wrinkled with age. Surrounded by her sisters, and with her husband at her side, Madge was utterly and completely content for the first time in weeks.
She leaned closer to Russell as he tapped the side of his
water glass with the tip of his spoon to get everyone’s attention. Then he started to lift his glass.
“Another toast?” she teased.
He smiled. “Just one more.” He held up his glass. “To sand and sea and beach homes.”
Her heart skipped a beat, but before she could say a word, he pressed a finger to her lips and continued. “As of last Friday, I’ve been named Regional Sales Manager for the Mid-Atlantic Region, which means that tomorrow, you and I are driving down to Sea Gate to pick out that summer beach house you’ve always wanted.”
“Russell!” She threw her arms around his neck and barely heard the congratulations everyone offered to them both. “I’m so proud of you. Regional Sales Manager! Do you mean it? Can we really afford a place at the beach?”
He hugged her with one arm. “We can now, although I’m not sure how much time I’ll be able to spend there. Not for a while yet. I’ll still have to travel a lot, but Drew and Brett will probably find their way home more often if we have a beach house.”
Madge settled back and gazed at her sisters. “You’ll come and spend some time with me at the beach, too, won’t you? Katy and Hannah would love it. We’ll teach them how to swim and use a belly-board, how to build sand castles—”
“And how to dig for sand crabs?” Andrea teased.
Madge felt her cheeks warm. “Did you have to mention the sand crabs?”
Jenny looked from Andrea to Madge, back to Andrea again, and furrowed her brow. “Is this another story about something I’m too young to remember?”
Andrea laughed. “Yep.”
Michael looked at Russell and shook his head. “Sounds like we’re about to hear another sister story. Go ahead, Andrea.”
“No, this is my story, too,” Madge argued. She tilted up her chin. “Once upon a time, when there was just Mother and Daddy and the ‘big three,’” she began with a wink in Jenny’s direction, “before we started camping as a family, we used to go on vacation for a week or two—”
“Usually two,” Andrea noted.
“In Sea Gate,” Madge continued. “Mother and Daddy would rent a house right on the beach. Anyway, the year I was four—”
“And I was six,” Andrea interjected.
Madge sighed.
Andrea held up her hand in mock surrender. “Okay. Tell it by yourself. I just don’t want you to take all the blame. We were in it together, remember?”
Madge grinned. “Every detail, and since you were the oldest, you should take most of the blame. One year, Andrea and I decided we were going to take some sand crabs home, so the last day of vacation, while Daddy was loading the car and Mother was sweeping the sand out of the house one more time, Andrea and I sneaked down to the shoreline. Sandra was just a baby,” she explained. “We dug up a dozen or so sand crabs, hid them in a big peanut butter jar we had taken out of the trash, added some sand and ocean water and sneaked it home.”
She paused when the waitress returned with the dessert tray Russell had ordered, waited until she left and waved away dessert to continue her story. “Daddy’s birthday was the following day, you see, and we wanted to give him a special
present. He had a small aquarium he kept in his office at home.”
Jenny shook her head. “I don’t remember him ever having an aquarium.”
Andrea giggled. “He didn’t have one for very long.”
Russell looked at Madge with anticipated dread. “Was it a salt-water aquarium?” When she shook her head, he groaned. “I know where this story is headed.”
She laughed with him. “As soon as we got home, we sneaked into his office and dumped everything into the aquarium—sand, ocean water, sand crabs and even a little peanut butter went in, too.”
Jenny cupped her hand at her brow and groaned. “I can’t ever tell my girls this story, especially if we get an aquarium. What did Daddy do?”
Andrea held up her hand, and Madge sat back to let her older sister finish the story. “He didn’t do anything. Not then. He didn’t know what we’d done until his birthday the next day. Right after breakfast, we made him go into his office. We were so excited and so sure he’d be pleased with our present.”
Michael grimaced. “Did anything survive?”
“Only the sand crabs,” Andrea replied. “When I look back now, I wonder at Daddy’s patience. He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten. He just listened to our explanation, told us he understood our good intentions—”
“And then he punished us,” Madge murmured, and fidgeted in her seat.
“A good solid spanking?” Russell asked.
“No, Daddy never spanked any of us,” Jenny offered. “At least, not the little two.”
Andrea smiled. “Not the big three, either.”
Madge nodded. “I think I might have forgotten a spanking, but I’ll never, ever forget how he carried that aquarium out to the backyard, set it on the ground, and helped us take out every one of those dead tropical fish. One by one, he’d tell us the species and lay the fish on the ground so we could see how beautiful it was.”
“He made us kneel down and pray, right then and there to ask God’s forgiveness for destroying His creatures, even though we didn’t kill them on purpose,” Andrea continued. “We buried them together in a little grave, and Daddy glued a couple of Popsicle sticks together to make a little cross.”
“What happened to the sand crabs?” Michael asked.
“They only lived for a few more days. When they died, we repeated the little ritual and buried them alongside the fish,” Madge explained.
Andrea yawned. “And that’s the end of the sand-crab story. Unfortunately, there are many, many more stories in which I led my little sister astray.”
Madge studied her older sister, noted the dark circles under her eyes and her pale features, and tapped the tabletop with her fingertips. “You’re exhausted. Maybe we should save the other stories for next time. Right now, I think it would be a good idea for Russell and me to take you home.” To her surprise, Andrea offered no argument.
Within half an hour, Andrea was home in bed and Madge was on her way home with Russell. “Were you really serious about going to the shore tomorrow? What about work?”
He chuckled. “I’m the Regional Sales Manager now. I can take a few days off.”
“A few days?”
“I talked to Dan Myers at the social today. He slipped the keys to his house in Sea Gate right off his key ring and said we could stay a week if we wanted to. I’m not sure, but I might be able to stretch out a few more days off.”
She sighed. “I have a meeting for the Shawl Ministry on Wednesday I really can’t miss. Thursday I promised to take Andrea for chemo, which reminds me. I have to call her and find out what time she has her appointment. Friday I have a nail appointment, then I’m getting my hair touched up. We could stay Monday and Tuesday, though. No problem.”
Disappointment flashed briefly in Russell’s eyes before he offered Madge a grin that made her heart flutter. “Monday and Tuesday will be great. I really shouldn’t take off more than that, I guess. I talked to Blair Whitaker at Shore Realty last week. We were fraternity brothers, remember? Anyway, he’s got several places lined up for us to see tomorrow. The market is loaded right now, and he thinks we might even be able to settle before the end of summer.”
She gasped. “You—you set up appointments with a realtor before I even said I wanted a beach house?”
He cocked a brow. “Madge, we’ve been married for twenty-six years. I can’t remember when you didn’t want a beach house. Of course, if you’ve changed your mind….”
“No!” She said the word so abruptly she laughed out loud. “I’d love a beach house, and if we could get one before Labor Day…”
Her thoughts drifted to fall. By then, Andrea might need a place to rest between treatments, and there was no place as peaceful and quiet as the seashore after the season had ended and all the vacationers had gone home.
“We could be at the shore in an hour. How about heading down tonight? We can take a walk on the beach, watch the sun set and be ready to look at houses first thing in the morning,” he suggested.
She hesitated, but she was reluctant to disappoint him again and smiled. “Just give me half an hour to change and pack.”
He pulled into their driveway, turned off the ignition and kissed her. “Make it fifteen minutes and you’ve got a deal.”