The Healing Quilt (9 page)

Another car honked at her at the stoplight. Kit thought about using an obscene gesture in return but, appalled by her own thought, gunned her car through the intersection instead. “What's with all these speed bums today? Take a Valium or something. “ Times like this she understood the meaning of road rage.

Knowing that an empty house awaited her, she drove on south of town to Teza's small farm tucked into a jewel of a valley. Raspberries hid beneath green leaves on prickly canes, their aroma more pungent than strawberries, and the cherry tree limbs sported clusters of black Bings and cream and pink descendants of the old Royal Annes. As Kit turned into the driveway, Teza turned from filling more baskets at her fruit stand and arranging them enticingly. For a change there were no customers choosing fruit and chatting with her.

“Teapot's on, or will be in a minute. Can you use some of these cherries? I know how you love them.”

Kit leaned on the roof of her car, inhaling summer. “Sure, but not too many. I'm not canning when there is no one home to eat them but me.”

Teza placed the basket on the front seat of Kit's car and linked her arm through her niece's. “You've been crying.”

“Does it still show?” Kit shook her head. “My eyes get red if I even sneeze.” She squeezed her aunt's arm against her side. “Here you are worrying about me when it should be the other way around.”

“No need to worry, that's God's job. He said he'll take care of us, and I trust that he will.” Teza pushed open the door, and a billowing cloud of raspberry and sugar fragrance enveloped them.

“Raspberry preserves.” Much safer to change the subject. Kit refused to agree or even comment on the God-care thing. They'd been over this ground before. “Are you using the copper kettle?”

“Sure am.” Teza nodded toward the industrial size gas range that reigned over the other appliances in the enlarged country kitchen. “Should have two dozen pints ready to sell by tomorrow.”

“Wonderful. What are you bringing to the Fourth of July celebration?”

“I was hoping for cherry pies, but the pie cherries aren't ready yet. So raspberry shortcake I guess. Keeping the whipping cream cold would be a problem.”

“Not if you used the store-bought kind.”

The look Teza gave her made Kit shrug. “Just a thought.”

Teza picked up the whistling teakettle and poured the water into the teapot. “You want apple spice or licorice? I'm out of Red Zinger.”

“Apple spice.” Kit reached for the teacups and saucers and carried them to the table. Teza insisted that tea tasted better in bone China. Mugs were for coffee and hot chocolate.

Sitting down at the round oak table with a red-and-white-checked tablecloth, Kit watched her aunt. If they were to do a fund-raiser and use the quilt idea, Teza would be the automatic woman to ask to head up the quilt project. She knew more about quilting than anyone in Jefferson City or County. But perhaps it was too soon to ask; after all, it was just an idea at the moment.

Teza poured the steaming tea from the teapot and into their cups. “You seem pensive.”

Kit sighed. “I know. On the way out here I was thinking back to other parades and celebrations. This is the first time I'm not right in there, making sure everyone is in place and properly clothed. No Cooper kids are in the parade, at least not from this Cooper family.”

“Time marches on.” Teza took her chair.

“Bad pun.”

“You have to admit I tried.”

“Youre trying all right.”
In more ways than one, but I sure couldn't do without you.
They both chuckled and sipped their tea.

Inhaling the steam, Kit thought back to Marcy's warning. Take Teza to Seattle. How in the world would she get Teza to take a day off and do that? With no concrete reason?

I hate eating alone.

“Will there be anything else?” Juanita stopped at the door to the kitchen.

Elaine looked up from her coffee cup. “No, I don't think so, thanks.”

“You have meeting this morning?”

“Yes, and George said he would be home for dinner, so lets have something nice.”
As if there is any chance he will live up to his word.

“Pork chops baked in applesauce?”

“That sounds good. I'll be at the hospital library for a while before the meeting, so don't worry about lunch.” Elaine paused and scrutinized Juanita. “I have a question.”

Juanita nodded. “Okay.”

“Did you have a mammogram like I told you to?”

Juanitas broad brow creased in confusion.
“No comprendo?

“Pictures of your breasts.” Elaine squeezed her own between her flat hands to signify the procedure. “At the hospital.”

“Big machine? Smash flat?” At Elaine's nod, Juanita smiled. “5/. They say I am good and healthy.”

“Good.”
At least I hope it is good. If our machine is not picking up cancer cells early enough, we are all in danger.
She kept her hands from searching for lumps in her own breasts through a sheer act of her will. With no history of breast cancer in her family and with always doing manual examinations both lying flat and in the shower with soapy hands, she felt fairly safe. That was one good thing to say about George. He'd insisted she set up and follow her own schedule. “Is there any breast cancer in your family?”

Juanita shrugged. “Don't know. My family in Guadalajara no have such machines. My sisters here, I tell them go and get squeezed, like you tell me.”

“Did they?”

Juanita shrugged. “I ask them.”

“Good.” Elaine smiled her dismissal and picked up her pen to continue her list for the day. At her feet, Doodlebug sat staring at her, waiting for his bite of toast. When it was not forthcoming, he put his paws up on her leg, his big eyes pleading.

“Sorry, Bug, my mind was elsewhere.” She slipped him a tiny morsel of buttered toast, and when he chewed that and asked for more, she shook her head. “You know better.” Brushing the crumbs off her robe, she stood and scooped him up for a hug. “Good dog. You go see Juanita.” Setting him down, she watched as he picked up a stuffed toy and scampered off to the kitchen. If only all the other pieces of her life obeyed as well as the little dog.

When she left the house an hour later, she was armed for her research, including a handheld digital recorder to take notes. When finished she could snap it into the cradle, and her notes would appear on the computer screen. She also had the notes from her online research the night before, a list of topics she needed to look up, and a small tape recorder that fit right in her pocket. When she went before the hospital board, she would be well prepared.

Since clouds hid the mountains and grayed the sky, she shrugged into a natural-toned linen blazer over matching pants and a silk tee with a hint of gold. Staring in the mirror, she inserted gold hoop earrings and hung a gold chain with a diamond to nestle just above the swell of her bosom. Gold bangles on her right wrist and a gold watch on her left finished the ensemble. She straightened the jacket and smoothed her eyebrows. A summer power suit, that's what she wore with every intention of influencing the board toward at least partially funding the new mammogram unit.

Swinging down the hall of the hospital a short time later, briefcase in hand, she nearly groaned when she saw Winston Henry Jefferson IV coming toward her. Definitely not the man she wanted to see at the moment, but she donned her most charming smile and extended her hand. After all, shaking hands was only polite, in spite of her aversion to anyone with a limp handshake. And his really was, even though nicely manicured.

“Good morning, Mr. Jefferson.”

“Ah, Mrs. Giovanni, please call me Winston. What a pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you. And how is your family?”

They continued to exchange pleasantries until Elaine glanced at her watch. “I need to get some work done before our coming meeting, so please excuse me.”

“Is everything all right for the booth on the Fourth?”

“Of course. The guild members so appreciate your donating the tent. Your generosity will make it much nicer for our ladies, either rain or shine.”

“Thank you. How do you like our new look?” He swept his arm in an arc to include the new carpets, paint, and artwork loaned by a local gallery.

“Very nice.” /
can't stand here and chitchat. My time is running out
She eyed his square-cut chin and smiling blue eyes. If only his handshake had the same forcefulness. “I'll see you later, then.” She smiled but stepped out with purpose, forcing him to take a step back to get out of her way.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No thank you.” She tossed the words over her shoulder and kept on walking. Did he not realize the primitive state of their diagnostic equipment? Or… The alternative did not bear thinking about. Was the need for new diagnostic equipment dismissed because it was only used for women? She could feel his curious gaze drilling a hole between her shoulder blades, but she refused to turn and acknowledge the feeling.

Once settled at a table in the library, she called up the available resources on the computer and began searching for articles that had not been accessible from her home computer on current and cutting-edge breast cancer research. She also sought information on the latest diagnostic equipment.

By the time she had to stop for the luncheon meeting, she had added considerably to her fund of knowledge.

One thing was for certain: the new mammogram units did not come cheap. Another: she needed far more time than she'd spent so far on the research.

Elaine sat staring at the circles and curves forming and reforming on the computer screen, seeing them but not seeing them.
What is the best way to handle this? Whom do I talk to first?

When she clicked on her digital recorder, she laid out a plan that formed as she spoke. Look out, “Call me Winston” and all you board members. She kissed the little recorder and tucked it into her left jacket pocket to record other ideas as fast as they came.

She stopped by the ladies room to freshen up, then joined the others filing into the boardroom where the hospital kitchen staff had set up a buffet like no hospital patient ever saw.

“Where have you been? I tried to call you.” George Giovanni appeared at her side, brushing back hair gone more gray than black and worn straight back to cover a balding spot centered on the crown of his head.

“Good morning to you too, dear.” Elaine smiled in spite of his dis-gruntlement. “What was so important that it couldn't wait until now?”

“I wanted you to bring some folders I left on my desk.”

“Sorry, I was already here. Do you need them before the meeting?”

“I sent Phyllis over for them.” Phyllis Nesbit was his secretary of twenty years and had been his gopher longer than that.

“Please, folks, lets get our food and take our places so we can begin.” Winston banged a gavel on the long cherry wood table, another of his new acquisitions in the remodeling frenzy.

Elaine looked around for George to see him beckoning her to take a place in front of him in the line.

“Hey, no cutting in,” teased one of the other members.

“I'll leave some of the shrimp for you,” Elaine shot back and they all laughed, seeing the number of large pink prawns already shelled and waiting for them in a cut-glass bowl of ice centered with red cocktail sauce.

By the time they were all served and seated, the noise level had risen to deafening proportions. Winston had to use the gavel again to gain their attention.

When the din setded he cleared his throat and began with a greeting, thanking them all for coming out on such a nice day.

The minutes were read, and old business dispensed with, sending a recommendation for hiring a new landscaper back to committee. The budget was never mentioned, and Elaine suspected the postponement could be blamed on a shortfall. She listened as the process was repeated with another item and waited for her turn as head of the auxiliary to make a report. Today it seemed that much of the business had been conducted beforehand and the meeting was just a formality.

“Mrs. Giovanni, would you like to share with us what the ladies have decided?”

She steeled her jaw against the condescending way he said “ladies” and rose. “The women of the auxiliary have agreed to a sprucing up of the gift store, but instead of tapping hospital finances, we will do the painting and refurbishing ourselves, using our labor and proceeds from our various charities.”

A smattering of applause greeted her announcement.

She smiled and nodded her thanks, then continued. “The two new neonatal isolets have been ordered and will be delivered within the month. That completes our current projects.”

“The hospital and the mothers of our community thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” She wanted to remind him of the hospitals reneged promise to pay half but kept it to herself.

She paused long enough for him to ask if there was anything else. Ending her inner debate, she opened a file folder in front of her and pulled out the article from the
Jefferson Star.

“I would like this matter brought to the attention of the board.”