Showers in Season (27 page)

Cathy buried her face in her hands. “I don’t get it. By now, I thought he would have settled in. That he’d be learning…”

“He’s learning,” Brenda admitted, calming down. “Really, this morning, he did so well on his test that I thought I’d be praising him all day. I was feeling really good about his progress, until…”

“Until he tried to nuke your house.”

Neither of them saw humor in that.

“Is he going to give you a nervous breakdown?” Cathy asked.

“No,” Brenda said. “I won’t let him.”

“So does that mean you’re not going to teach him anymore?”

Brenda smiled. “Cathy, I committed to do it, and I will.”

“But if you’re going to start hating and avoiding me, and he’s going to refuse to learn another thing for the rest of his life…I’ll let you off the hook, Brenda.”

Brenda seemed to be thinking it over. Suddenly, she got up. “Wait here a minute.” She went in to her desk, got Mark’s test paper, and brought it back to Cathy. “Here. See? He is learning.”

Cathy looked down at it and saw that he had correctly answered questions about Noah’s family, about the Tower of Babel, about the seven days of Creation. She wiped her eyes. There
was
hope. “You’re a miracle worker,” she said. “This is amazing.”

“Cathy, this is not a big deal. You’ve been going over the same material. Maybe he learned it from you. But he’s doing really well in math, too.”

“Math? You’re kidding me.”

“No. He even picks it up faster than Daniel. See? There’s hope.”

Cathy’s expression softened. “Brenda, I promise I’ll buy you a new picnic table.”

“I don’t want another picnic table,” she said. “That’s not it. I just want him to listen to me, to show remorse when he does something wrong. I want his attitude to improve.”

“Well, since those things seem about as likely as peace in the Middle East, you’d better think this quitting thing over again,” Cathy said. “I’ll make other arrangements if I need to.”

“Not yet.” Brenda sighed. “I’ll give it a little more time. But I can’t promise anything. I can’t stand this kind of turmoil in my life. It’s not good for my own kids. Even if it does make me less homier-than-thou.”

“I’ll do what I can to straighten him out,” Cathy said.

When Cathy had gone home, Brenda went back into the bedroom and dropped down on the bed, her hand over her forehead to dull the throbbing.

Joseph came into the room and leaned on the side of her bed. “Mama, are you okay?”

“Yeah, honey,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Can I lay down with you?”

“Lie,” she said. “Can you lie down with me.”

Joseph grinned. “That, too.”

She scooted over and he climbed up next to her. For several moments, they lay side by side, staring quietly at the ceiling.

“Mama, I feel kind of sorry for Mark.” He turned over on his side and looked at her.

She looked into her little boy’s eyes. “Why, Joseph?”

“The way he’s always horsing around trying to get us to laugh, instead of doing his work. I think it’s kind of a cover-up.”

“A cover-up for what?”

“I think
he
thinks he’s stupid and he thinks he doesn’t want to learn, but he seems really proud when he does.”

“That’s the thing about trying to do the right thing for somebody,” she said, stroking the cowlick in Joseph’s red hair. “You know it will make them happy in the long run. But when they put up such a fight, it’s almost not worth it.”

“We’re supposed to love the ones who make it hard, too. Right, Mama?”

She smiled at her son, and touched a cheek that was rounded from the use of steroids. “Thank you, Joseph. I needed to be reminded of that today.”

“You’re the one who taught me,” he said. He slipped off the bed, twisting his shirt, and she caught a glimpse of the scar that cut through his little chest. He was recovering so well, and the pink in his skin was more than she had ever hoped to see again. Yet, here he was, able to lie with her on the bed and impart wisdom about their neighbors. She gave him a tight hug.

“Don’t crush me,” he said with a giggle, and she let him go.

As he left the room, Brenda wilted back onto the bed and began to pray that God would help her to do the right thing.

That night, Brenda went back over to Cathy’s house and renewed her commitment to teach Mark. She told her not to worry about her giving up, that Joseph had shown her that God had ordained this.

Relieved beyond words, Cathy marched Mark down the stairs and made him apologize to Brenda for burning up her picnic table and for disregarding her rules. He seemed genuinely sorry as he got the words out.

When Mark had returned to his room, she and Brenda sat on the couch. “Bad day,” Cathy said.

“Yeah. Sounds like it was for everybody. Have you talked to Tory?”

“A little while ago,” she said. “She’s pretty upset.” She thought that over for a moment. “You know what I’d really like to do?”

“What?” Brenda asked.

“I’d like to call Sylvia.”

A slow smile crept across Brenda’s face. “That’s a great idea. Let’s get Tory, and we can all talk to her. That’ll cheer all of us up.”

The grief in Sylvia’s heart clung more tightly than Harry’s arms. It seemed bigger than the blessings he whispered in her ear, more mighty than the joys she had come to León to proclaim. It was slanderous, self-pitying, systematic grief that disassembled her, piece by piece. She didn’t know how she would ever overcome it.

Harry didn’t let her go until the telephone rang, and reluctantly, he got up to answer it. She blew her nose as he muttered in the other room. He probably had an emergency, she thought. Someone who needed him more than she did. He would have to go to the clinic and leave her alone.

It was probably just as well. There was little he could do for her here.

But when he came back into the room, he didn’t have that look of apology she’d expected on his face. Instead, he was smiling. “Sylvia, it’s long distance from Tennessee. Brenda, Tory, and Cathy.”

She sat up straighter. “All of them?”

“All three,” he said.

“But how did they know?”

“God knew,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “Come talk to them.”

She went to the telephone in the other room. A smile tickled across her face as she answered. “Hello?”

“Sylvia.” All three of them spoke at once. The sound was like Mozart after fingernails on a chalkboard.

“Oh, boy, are you three a godsend!” She started to cry again. She sucked in a breath, and tried to control her voice. “Whose house are you calling from? I just want to picture where you are.”

“We’re at Tory’s,” Cathy said, “all on different extensions.”

“What’s wrong?” Brenda asked Sylvia. “You sound stopped up. Are you sick?”

Sylvia drew a deep breath, and thought of lying to keep from bringing them down. But she didn’t have the energy to keep it to herself. “We found the baby’s mother,” she said. There was silence on the other end for a long moment. It was clear that her neighbors didn’t know whether to rejoice for the child or grieve for Sylvia. “I ought to be happy,” she admitted. “I mean, she needs her mom, doesn’t she, instead of some silly old woman who wants to be a mother again?”

“You’re only fifty years old,” Cathy said. “For heaven’s sake, that’s not old.”

“It feels old.” She swallowed hard and dabbed at her eyes again. “I thought God was letting me have another crack at motherhood, but instead, he was just letting me baby-sit.”

“Oh, Sylvia…”

She pursed her lips and waved a hand in the air, as if they could see it. “Never mind that. Carly’s fine. That’s the important thing. Now, what’s going on with all of you?”

They were all hesitant to blurt it out. Finally, Cathy spoke up. “Looks like it’s a banner day for all of us. Tory, you go first.”

“What is it, honey?” Sylvia asked.

Tory’s voice was hoarse. Sylvia knew she had been crying, too. “Barry moved out today,” she said. “We had a terrible fight after I caught him confiding in another woman about our marriage.”

“Oh, no. Where is he?”

“He’s at the Holiday Inn.”

Sylvia suddenly forgot her own grief. “Oh, Tory, you’ve got to get him back.”

“Sylvia, this woman works with him. Every night, he works late. He was telling her about our sleeping arrangements!”

“Did you see them together? Were they touching?”

“No, not right there in the office, but—”

“Okay,” Sylvia said, still hopeful. “It wasn’t right for him to confide in her, but that’s not enough to end a marriage over.”

“Sylvia, he’s listening to her about aborting our child.”

Sylvia closed her eyes. She wished she could have five minutes alone with Barry and straighten him out. “Okay, that’s it. I’m going to stop feeling sorry for myself right this minute. I wish I could do something for you.”

“Thank you, Sylvia,” Tory said. “There’s really nothing.”

“Don’t give up on him, Tory. He’s still a good man.”

“It’s hard.” Her brevity spoke volumes. Tory usually waxed eloquent about her problems. Now she could hardly speak at all.

“I know, honey. But I still believe he’s going to come around. So Cathy and Brenda, are you two helping Tory?”

“We’re trying,” Cathy said, “but like I said, it’s been a banner day for all of us.”

“There’s more?” Sylvia asked. “What is it?”

“Mark again,” Cathy said. “Brenda just about lost it today when he caught her picnic table on fire. Mark’s very gifted, I guess. If he can send Brenda over the edge, he can send anybody.”

“Brenda, you aren’t going to quit, are you?” Sylvia asked.

“No,” Brenda said quietly. “I’ll keep going. There’s got to be an answer somewhere.”

“I just don’t know what it is,” Cathy added.

“All boys are hard at this age,” Sylvia told them. “You should have seen Jeff when he was twelve. I thought I would lose my mind. One time he was doing an experiment on electricity and blew out the wiring in our whole garage. Thank goodness it was on a separate circuit breaker, or it would have lit up the whole house.”

“Really?” Cathy asked. “Your Jeff did that?”

“Sure did. And I probably never told you that he had to go to summer school after his seventh grade year, because he failed algebra
and
English.”

“Sylvia, I never knew that,” Cathy said. “I thought Jeff was the perfect child.”

“Heavens, who gave you that idea? He turned out fine. He’s happy and has a good job…and his mother misses him terribly. But there were some trials in raising him.” She shifted her thoughts to Brenda, who quietly let the others talk. “What about Joseph, Brenda? Is he okay?”

“He’s doing great. Hasn’t shown any sign of rejecting the heart. And I think he gets wiser every day.”

“Talk about answered prayers,” Sylvia said. “If we ever forget that God is watching over us, we should think of Joseph.” She pressed her eyes as remorse filled her. She had been so blind to God’s goodness. All she had seen was the impact things had on her. But God was still there, working quietly in all their lives. “Oh, I wish I could give you all a really big hug, and we could stand around in a circle and cry our hearts out together, until we could each remember how blessed we are!”

She knew they were all crying, unable to speak, so she took the lead again. “You know, someday we’re going to laugh about all of these things. I’ve always said that in every crisis there’s a blessing. It’s not so easy to see when it’s
my
crisis, but it’s there whether I see it or not.”

“I’m sorry, Sylvia,” Tory said, her voice cracked. “I usually buy what you tell me, but that one’s really hard to swallow.”

“But it’s true. You just watch. Look back at what we went through with Joseph. Brenda’s stronger for it. We all are. You’ll be stronger for this, honey.”

“For having a retarded child,” Tory asked, “or for losing my marriage in the process?”

“Whatever God lays out for you, Tory, you’ll be able to stand it. You’ll see. He’ll equip you. His grace is sufficient.”

“Is it sufficient for you?” Tory asked. “Giving up the baby when you were so sure that God had given her to you?”

Sylvia was silent for a moment as she turned Tory’s painful question over in her mind. “I’m just now beginning to realize that God did give her to me,” Sylvia said. “Even though I couldn’t keep her, she was a precious, wonderful little gift, and I’m glad I got that time with her. I wish you could have met her.”

“Maybe someday,” Brenda said.

“I doubt it,” Sylvia said. “I may never see her again. She’ll grow up and not even remember the lady who took care of her after the hurricane. I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be. I’ve already raised my kids. I’m not supposed to be a mother again.”

“I can’t imagine that,” Cathy said. “I can’t imagine looking back and knowing I’ve raised my kids successfully. What peace there must be in that.”

“I know,” Tory said, “and I keep looking back to when my marriage was happy, and my kids were bouncy, and the only problem I ever had was that I didn’t have a long enough stretch of time to write a novel. I didn’t have a clue what real problems were.”

Brenda agreed. “And I look back to when teaching my kids was my biggest objective, and I had never had a sick child or a neighbor who was mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Cathy insisted.

“Well, not anymore.”

“Brenda, I overreacted, but I didn’t mean it.”

“Guard the friendship,” Sylvia cut in. “I hear tension in both of your voices. Don’t let this come between you. I need you too much. All three of you. We’re going to be all right, all of us. We’ll get through these storms. One of these days, I’ll even stop feeling like a fool.”

“If you feel like a fool,” Brenda said, “then you’re missing the best part of the blessing.”

“Missing it?” Sylvia asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Carly needed somebody who could love her until her mom was on her feet. That somebody turned out to be you. I don’t think it was all some divine joke, or a misunderstanding, or an accident. I think God picked you, Sylvia. Right out of all the people in León, he chose you to take care of little Carly. I would count that a high honor.”

She found herself dissolving into tears again. “You’re right, Brenda. That is a high honor. Maybe it’s as high as God choosing Tory to take care of her special little baby.”

She heard Tory weeping on the other end of the line. Sniffs came from both of the other women, as well. “Girls, let’s pray together. We haven’t done that in a long time.”

As they started to pray, Sylvia felt the peace of God falling like a warm, cleansing shower over them.