Dr. Reynolds nodded. “Yes, chemotherapy. With the hope that it will lessen the symptoms and enable you to live well for as long as possible.”
Stephanie looked at her husband. Sometimes she was surprised he actually knew what he was talking about.
“As long as possible?” Worry lined Aunt Estelle's face.
“What's the bottom line, Doc?” Uncle Wood asked. “How long can she expect to live?”
“Wood, there's no way to say with certainty,” the doctor said. “Everyone responds to chemo differently.”
“Daddy passed pretty quickly from what I remember.” Aunt Estelle sounded as if she were talking to herself.
Dr. Reynolds absentmindedly straightened his papers. “Your mother knows better than anybody in this room that God has the final say.”
“Yes, He does,” Grandma Geri affirmed. “And I got no fear of this thing. I'm fine either way. If I die, y'all know where to find me. With Jesus. And Elwood.”
Aunt Gladys gave her a look. “We understand all that, Momma. But we don't want you to give up either. We don't know what God'll do. You could live to be a hundred or more. You have to fight this.” She looked at the doctor. “Could Momma go to a treatment facility in Raleigh? She could come stay with us. I'm sure I could call on one of my good friends to help take her to and fro, since my husband and I both work.”
“I feel helpless, living way down in Florida,” Aunt Estelle said.
“I was thinking the same,” Uncle Wood said. “Not much Denise and I can do from Atlanta.”
“I think Raleigh's the only viable option,” Aunt Gladys said.
Grandma Geri shook her head. “I'm staying in my own home and going to the hospital in Rocky Mount where Elwood went.”
“Momma,” Uncle Wood said, “the hospital is at least fifteen or twenty minutes from here, and you can't drive yourself to chemo treatments. Who would take you back and forth?”
“I don't know. I can pray about it.” Her hands began to tremble. “That's all I want. I don't mind dying, but I want to die in the home I've lived in for over sixty years.” Tears slid down her face for the first time since she'd heard the diagnosis.
Aunt Estelle grabbed her hand across the table. “Momma, it'll be okay. We'll figure something out.”
“I'll do it.” Janelle stood behind her mother, looking pained by all she'd heard.
Stephanie looked at Janelle.
Is she serious?
“You'll do what?” Aunt Estelle asked her.
“I'll take Grandma to her treatments and help care for her,” Janelle said.
Aunt Estelle turned more fully to get a better look at her. “Honey, what sense does that make? What about Daniel's school? Your life is in Maryland.”
“What life? It hasn't been the same anyway since David's death.” She seemed to think it through on the spot. “It's not like I'm working. Daniel can transfer to Hope Springs Elementary. It'll be like an extended vacation, until Grandma's better.”
“Come here, baby.” Grandma Geri reached for her.
Janelle walked over and held her hand.
“I can't let you do that, much as you warmed my heart by offering. It's too much.”
Janelle bent down next to her. “Grandma, remember you used to tell us, âY'all think you're grown,' when we were teens?”
“Mm-hmm.” Libby was standing by her dad. “I remember.”
“Well, now I
am
grown, and I get to decide what's too muchâand I just decided. It's not too much.” She smiled. “Besides, what did you tell me yesterday? âLet your family love on you.' That's what I want to do.”
“I also said you needed a spanking 'cause you don't listen.” Grandma Geri squeezed Janelle's hand, fresh tears in her eyes.
“That's a mighty special thing you're offering to do, Jan.” Uncle Wood looked over at his twin sister. “You raised her right, Stelle.”
“Definitely special,” Aunt Gladys said. “And you won't be in this alone, Janelle. I can help on weekends.”
Libby looked at her from across the table. “What will you do, Jan? Drive home, pack more stuff, and come right back?”
Janelle took a moment to think. “I could leave right after Christmas and be back by the New Year. That'll give me time to square away things at home.” She turned to Dr. Reynolds. “Is that okay? Can Grandma wait till then to start treatment?”
“Better be okay.” Grandma Geri had recaptured her spunk. “I'm spending my last Christmas holiday with my family in peace.”
“Momma, stop talking like that,” Aunt Gladys said. “I don't care what the report says. We'll be praying for complete healing.”
“Amen” sounded around the kitchen.
Lindell went to talk to Dr. Reynolds, and others stood around listening or talking among themselves. Stephanie was trying to figure out what was going on inside of her. She was saddened by the news and needed to call her dad right away and let him know. But something else was pressing in on her. She eased around family members and slipped out the side door in her slippers, thinking better of it when the chill hit her arms. But she felt the need to keep walking, thinking.
Times like this, she thought of her sister. Cyd always prayed first thing, even when she didn't know what to pray.
Lord, why is my heart beating like this? I feel like I've been running. And You know I don't hardly run
.
She continued walking up the road, watching tree limbs sway in the wind, mulling the news. Her grandmother had cancer . . .
Stephanie didn't get overly sad about such things, not when the person was old. Everybody had to die of something, didn't they? Not that she wanted anyone to suffer either. It was just . . . maybe she just found it hard to enter into another person's pain. It required something of her. Required her to care, to feel.
Why was she about to cry?
She waved a hand in front of her face, as if to will it away. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried.
Okay, Lord . . . what? What is this?
Her mind went to Janelle, how struck she was by Janelle's offer to care for her grandmother. The minute she said it, Stephanie knew she could never do something like that. Would never want to. It took a special kind of person to give that way, a true servâ
She stopped, hands on her hips, weird tears sliding down her face. That could
not
be what this was all about.
Here's the deal, Lord. Yes, I prayed to be a servant, but not that kind. I was talking take-a-meal-to-someone-across-town-when-they're-sick kind of servant, not pick-up-and-move-hundreds-of-miles kind of servant. Anyway, hallelujah, the job's taken. Janelle already filled it
.
She shook her head as if to shake away her ludicrous thoughts.
Lindell's leaving for Haiti next week. You don't have a job either. Nothing's keeping you in St. Louis. You could help Janelle
.
“Shut up, Cyd.”
Great, she was going crazy. Talking aloud to the Cyd in her head.
“Stephanie, you okay?”
She turned. Lindell was coming toward her. She didn't want him to see her like this. He'd surely ask questions. Had he ever seen her cry?
“I was wondering where you went,” he said. He looked more closely at her. “Sweetheart, you're crying?”
He put his arms around her, and she buried her head on his shoulder.
“The news is definitely upsetting,” he said. “I'm so glad you felt like we needed to be here for Christmas.”
“Yeah, before I changed my mind and wanted to stay in St. Louis. That's the thing, Lindell . . .” She walked a few feet away, processing her thoughts. “I say I want to change and care and all that stuff I'm supposed to say and feel, but deep down I don't want to. You know? Deep down, I'm selfish.” She was crying harder, not even understanding why. “I don't want to go out of my way for anybody. I'm not a Janelle.”
Lindell came closer. “What are you talking about, Steph?”
She folded her arms, partly because it was cold and partly because she wanted to shield herself against whatever God was trying to do with her. “I think God wants me to spend some time in Hope Springs while you're in Haiti . . .” She wiped a few tears. “Helping Janelle take care of Grandma Geri.”
“Wow.” Lindell looked aside, presumably processing it himself.
“But I know it wouldn't work,” she quickly added. “We can't just leave our home for weeks at a time. Too much to look afterâbills, home maintenance. I mean, what if a pipe bursts when it's cold or a bird gets stuck in the chimneyâthat happened to the Nelsons, you know. Somebody needs to be there.”
Lindell brought her into his arms again. “Steph, I have watched God do amazing things in your heart in the two years we've been married.” He leaned back to look in her eyes. “You think you're selfish now? Do you remember how you
used
to be?”
The tears had subsided, so she could easily roll her eyes at him.
“I'm trying to encourage you, babe. You've come a long way. We both have. I would never have considered a medical mission trip two years ago.” He took her hand and walked with her. “I think it's exciting. You told me you've been praying to have a servant's heart. Sounds like God wants to take you to servant school.”
“You didn't answer my concerns, though. What about our house?”
Lindell almost chuckled. “Really, Steph? How much family do we have nearby to check on things for us? And we can pay bills online. The last thing I'm worried about is the house.”
“Well, Janelle might not want me here. I might just get in the way.”
“True.” Lindell stifled a smile. “You'd be remiss if you didn't ask to be sure.”
“And I'd miss my family.”
He nodded. “Yes, you will. And you'll get to know the family that's here better.” He squeezed her hand. “You're not joining the army. It's only a few weeks.”
“Hmph. It's kinda like joining the army. Servant school boot camp.”
He laughed. “That might be true.” He stopped and looked at her. “Not like you have to decide this minute. Let's pray, and whatever you decide, you decide. God can find a way to take you through servant school boot camp in St. Louis just as well as in Hope Springs.”
That made her feel better, like her whole life didn't hinge on this one decision. She stared into the distance.
“What?” Lindell said.
“I don't know . . . My thoughts about what I should do keep changing, depending on whether I'm focused on myself or my grandmother.” She sighed. “If you ask me, boot camp already started.”
CHAPTER NINE
Tuesday, December 29
T
odd, help me here.” Becca blew out a soft sigh, taking a stab at patience, which was dwindling fast. She swiveled from her computer screen to face him fully. “You're telling me your company is about to lay off a lot of people in your department but you won't be among them.”
“Yes. My level is safe for now.”
“Yet
this
is your confirmation that we should leave life as we know it and move to Hope Springs? You can't be serious.”
They'd been debating this since the road trip home. Todd's meeting with the elders had made an impression and swayed him to at least begin thinking seriously about their proposition. Every day he seemed to be leaning more in favor of the move. But she'd been hanging her hopes on one thing he said he'd needâreal confirmation. Given how crazy this notion was, she'd been sure he wouldn't get it.
“I really think so, Bec.” He paced in front of her, a distressing sign, since it meant his wheels were turning. “When they told me about the layoffs today, it just clicked.” He looked at her, his green eyes twinkling.
“Clicked.” She bit her lip, nodding. “What am I missing, Todd? If your job is safe, why would you want to leave?”
He grabbed a chair from the small round table in her office and sat. “When they told me who they were laying offâincluding a woman who just had a baby and a guy who just bought a houseâit struck me that nothing is secure in this world. We hang on to it like it's everything, but it could be gone like that.” He snapped a finger. “I felt like God was showing me that instead of trusting in a job, I need to trust where He leads us. You know?”
“Not really.” She stared at him. “I'm not seeing why you'd quit a jobâthat affords us a nice living, by the wayâto take a position you've said you're not called to do.”
Todd nodded. “That's the other thing God's been showing me.”
If I hear that one more time .
. .
Todd had prayed and fasted after Christmas, something she'd never seen him do, not apart from some churchwide initiative. Now every time she turned around he had something else God was showing him. And she wasn't excited about any of it.