Coming Home (29 page)

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Authors: David Lewis

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At noon Jessie attended another club luncheon with her grandmother. Another set of interesting personalities, giving Jessie the same kinds of inquisitive glances, but Doris seemed more subdued this time, less outspoken. Jessie found herself watching her, wondering what had happened to over-confident Grandmother.

That evening Jessie knelt beside her bed again, feeling as if her elbows were sinking into the mattress. Something was eating away at her from the inside, forcing its way up. She took deep, anguished breaths, then said, “Here I am again, God. I still don’t know what to say.” She was tempted to quit and go to bed.

Instead, she whispered, “I’m very angry with you.” The floodgates seemed to open—her tears, the bitterness, the sense of betrayal. It all came out. For an hour or more, she struggled with the pain, talking to God at times as if He were a monster and at other times as if He was everything she had ever hoped He would be. She fell into bed, exhausted, but an underyling peace lingered as she drifted to sleep.

The next morning over breakfast, her grandmother startled her by grasping her hand and asking her to stay for the summer.

Jessie was taken aback. “I need to get to my job.”

Doris shook her head vehemently. “You don’t need to work, my dear.”

“But I should. I
must
.”

Her grandmother closed her eyes and shook her head, a small smile escaping her lips. “Jessica, have you looked around?”

Jessie was confused.

“All that I have will be yours … one day.”

“I didn’t come here for that—”

“I
know
you didn’t,” Grandmother said.

“It’s not right,” Jessie countered, in turmoil, overwhelmed with such a gesture. “I don’t
deserve
—”

Doris put her finger to her lips, and her eyes glistened. “Please think about it, Jessica. Just for the summer, if you wish. You can always go on to school in the fall.”

That afternoon the neurologist visit with Dr. Sawyer, a blond woman with glasses, went as well as could be expected. Jessie suffered through a series of questions designed to determine if she was displaying any troublesome signs. Headaches? Confusion? Memory loss?

Jessie answered as honestly as she could, but the doctor’s concern seemed to grow with each answer. “Maybe just … stress?” Dr. Sawyer suggested, smiling tentatively. “We’ll have a better idea in a few weeks.” She ordered the blood test, which was administered in the lab downstairs.

Andy called a few days later while Jessie, Bill, and Grandmother were relaxing in the grand room. Bill was reading a magazine, and Grandmother was doing needlepoint. “I’m coming down tomorrow,” he announced. “I need to see you.”

“Andy, don’t—”

“I have to,” he said, and hung up before she could object further. For the next few minutes, she dialed and redialed his cell phone, but he didn’t answer.
This is impossible,
she thought, unable to stop the tears.

“You okay, Jess?” Bill asked. Grandmother was also looking at her, obviously worried.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

“Would you like some space?” asked Grandmother.

Jessie shook her head. She couldn’t get Andy’s call out of her thoughts.

Her father had been a different man before her mother got sick. Betty, too, had fond memories of the man before Mom’s horrid illness.
What kind of person would I be to let Andy fall in love with me?
she taunted herself.
I would destroy his life.

Chapter Thirty-One

ANDY CALLED the next morning to say he’d be there in half an hour.
Doesn’t this guy ever work?
Jessie thought, hanging up the phone. She waited for him on the front steps. At 9:55, Andy’s Toyota pulled into the driveway, and Jessie felt her heart sink.

Andy got out of the car wearing gray chino slacks and a brightcolored T-shirt and holding a bouquet of roses. Jessie winced. He shut the car door and approached the steps.

“You look great,” he said, his blue eyes hesitant.

“Thank you,” she replied.
I’m not foaming at the mouth just yet
.

“So do you.”

“Frankly, I didn’t expect to find you here.” He grinned and pushed the lavender roses forward. “These are for your grandmother.”

Jessie squinted. “Oh, they are, are they?”

“Sorry,” he added with a glint in his eyes. “Is she here?”

“You are so bad,” Jessie accused.

“Well … I suppose I
could
give them to you. You won’t tell her, though, will you?”

“She might appreciate them more,” she said and felt a sharp pain of regret. She’d intended to make the visit very difficult for him, which now seemed impossible. It hurt too much.

Andy was undaunted. “Well … maybe you can both appreciate them.” He laid them beside her on the step and sat down. “I missed you.”

Jessie picked up the bouquet and breathed in the aroma.

“Guaranteed to open,” Andy said, “or my money back.”

Jessie placed the flowers on the step. Her emotions were a mess.

“I need your help with something,” Andy said cheerfully. “A little romantic advice.”

“I’ll see if I can reach Dear Abby.”

“You see, I’ve met this girl … who seems to like being with me … and then she suddenly freezes up and
acts
—” he paused for emphasis—“like she doesn’t like me.” He turned toward her with a look of mock seriousness. “What am I supposed to think?”

“Maybe you read her wrong.”

Andy considered this. Jessie felt terrible, but there was no other way.

“So … I’m wrong?”

“Things aren’t always as they seem.” Jessie answered coldly, but her heart was breaking.

“Should I try talking to her?”

“Andy—”

“I want you to meet my mother,” Andy interjected.

“It didn’t go too well the first time,” Jessie replied without missing a beat, looking out beyond the wrought-iron fence. They heard the squeak of the door behind them and turned to see her grandmother looking down at them. “Oh, good,” she said to Andy, “I was afraid you’d left, young man.”

“No, ma’am,” Andy replied.

“You’re staying for lunch, right?” Grandmother asked.

“Oh … no … I didn’t mean—”

“Nonsense,” she murmured and disappeared.

Jessie shuddered.
From bad to worse
.

Andy winked at her. “That settles it.”

“Settles what?”

“We have to get married.”

“Andy—”

“Did you see the way she looked at me?”

“What?”

“I saw a tone.”

“You
saw
a tone.”

He nodded. “I’m approved of. You’re finished.”

“Andy, you’re just—”

He leaned over, and before she realized what he was doing, he kissed her. Full on the lips.

When she pulled back, he was gazing into her eyes. “I love you, Jessie.”

Jessie shook her head and sighed.

Lunch was a miserable affair. Andy was animated and charming. Bill carried on as if Andy were his son, and it was horrendously annoying. Even Grandmother seemed to enjoy herself at moments.

When Jessie went to the refrigerator for olives, Bill was removing an extra serving spoon from the drawer, and Doris and Andy were engaged in conversation. Bill whispered into her ear, “He’s quite a looker, you know.” He nudged her with his elbow. “I’d tie that one up.”

Tie him up?
Jessie nearly groaned.

By the end of the meal, she was a nervous wreck.
Andy has no idea,
she thought, steeling her resolve.
He’s running on pure emotion… .

As Bill cleared the table, Jessie said, “I have some shopping to do.”

“Oh … I was hoping we could walk around the Broadmoor lake,” Andy suggested softly.

“That’s nice of you, but …”

Bill settled back in his chair and appraised her curiously. His twinkles were exasperating.
Put a sock in it,
Jessie thought. Even her grandmother seemed a bit taken aback by her attitude.

She looked away but could feel Andy’s eyes on her. “I should be going anyway,” Andy finally remarked. He kept trying to make eye contact with her, but other than an occasional glance, she refused to meet his gaze.

When the three conspirators couldn’t squeeze out another drop of small talk, Jessie walked Andy to the door. She tried to make it a casual exit, quick and graceful, but Andy lingered at the door. “I’d like to see you again, Jess.”

“I can’t.”

“But why?”

“Trust me,” she said, struggling to contain her emotions.

Andy glanced down at the floor. When he looked up his features reflected profound disappointment. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, pretending her show of emotion was less than what it appeared. She’d wanted to be colder, more detached.
What sort of person would
I be?
she kept repeating to herself, crossing her arms defensively.
How could I ruin his life?

“Okay,” he finally whispered, his own voice struggling. “But I … thought we had something.” He gave her a gentle nod and smiled warmly, but his eyes seemed to be twinkling like Bill’s. He pulled the door open and closed it behind him.

We did,
Jessie thought.

The next day she called Oregon State University and quit her summer job without changing her college plans. She called Darlene, who answered frantically. “Where have you been?” They spent half an hour catching up, and Darlene listened with fascination, positively thrilled that Jessie was patching things up with her grandmother. “It’s touch and go,” Jessie told her. “A lot of history to redeem.” Jessie wondered if Darlene would take that reply as an invitation to talk religion again, but she didn’t. And Jessie realized she wouldn’t have minded. Not at all. “Have you ever seen the Springs?” Jessie asked.

Darlene chuckled playfully. “You promised me Oregon.”

“We’ve got mountains here.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Darlene arrived the next weekend. When she walked into the house, she nearly gasped as she dropped her bags. Bill wandered in and charmed the socks off her. Jessie gave him a few warning glances, but he only twinkled back. Before Darlene arrived, Jessie had sworn Bill and Grandmother to secrecy regarding Jessie’s medical test.

They enjoyed a few days of pure frenzy—shopping, hiking at the Garden of the Gods and Cheyenne Canyon, attending a couple of movies, dining at several restaurants.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Darlene asked on Sunday night, her last night, over homemade milkshakes—another of Bill’s specialties. The question didn’t seem as probing, nor as invasive, as it once would have.

“I’m closer,” Jessie whispered, and Darlene seemed to understand.

“I’m praying for you,” she only replied, and for the first time, Jessie found it reassuring. Jessie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

Darlene blinked away tears as she squeezed back.

The largest portion of the days and weeks that followed was spent helping Bill with chores, despite his cheerful objections. Sometimes she shopped with her grandmother, and afterward they would lunch at the finest places in Colorado Springs, as the woman never lost her determination to impress her granddaughter. But her earlier feistiness had all but disappeared, and Jessie seemed to catch her, more and more, in listless contemplation. She would stare off in the darkness of a windowless restaurant, her features almost despairing, and when she snapped out of it, she’d force a smile and say something like, “Where were we? Caught me daydreaming again.” But the grandmother Jessie remembered never daydreamed. Ever.

Young Laura called several times a week, and if it hadn’t been so pathetically sad, it would have been comical. “Dana’s mother won’t let me play with her anymore,” she once muttered. “So I’m going to call you more.”

“Cool,” Jessie replied.

On Sunday Jessie attended her grandmother’s church, but in the evening she went with Bill. His church reminded her of the Monument church she’d attended when she was little. They sang worship songs, some of which Jessie recognized because of Darlene’s worship CDs, and a few hymns, which had been her mother’s favorites.

Each night Jessie knelt and prayed. Sometimes her efforts were feeble; other times, it seemed as if she’d grasped the robe of God himself. But the more she prayed, the more she was drawn back.
Am I just afraid of dying?
she once asked herself.
We’re all dying,
she realized,
some at slower paces than others
.

She thought of the Canaanite woman who persisted in pleading with Jesus in spite of Jesus’ initial rejection, until He finally declared, “Great is your faith, woman,” and it encouraged Jessie to keep fighting through.

She found a Bible in the bookcase, and in the mornings she began reading small sections, starting slowly, worried she might find something that would disturb her, perhaps even infuriate her. So many of the verses were caught up in the days with her mother, and yet one in particular struck her:
You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart… .

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