The Second Half (24 page)

She stepped next to the machine, did what she was told, and breathed again when allowed.

The technician told her to relax, checked the monitor, and came back. “I think we better do this again, just to be sure.”

“Did I breathe wrong or something?”

“I just like to be really thorough.”

They repeated the procedure. Mona watched carefully to see any sign of concern on the technician's face.

“You should hear by noon tomorrow,” she said.

“Really, I don't just get a letter in the mail?” She paused. “What did you see?”

“The mammogram will go to radiology.”

“But…”

The technician shrugged. “Thanks for keeping your appointment.”

They'd always sent a letter before. A squiggle of doubt nagged at her.

Okay. More than just a squiggle.

K
en's wolf was taking shape. Sort of. He stepped back from his bench to get a better view of his first big carving project. For the class, Brian had purchased a number of roughouts—pre-carvings, which had the big chunks of excess wood cut away already. All the carver had to do was the final shaping. Brian had a good point; it's hard for a beginner to visualize the finished piece if it is still buried in the wood.

Ken laid down the half-inch chisel and picked up his seven-sixteenths gouge. The hardest part, Brian claimed, was carving around the ears without breaking them.

Why was he feeling so angry? Why was he asking that question when he already knew the answer? Mona had descended into another one of her deep funks, and it was her own stubbornness that put her there. He could not help but be upset by her refusal to lighten her load before this depression business started. She didn't even let off steam at her punching bag; she claimed she could handle it. Well, she couldn't. Now they were both going to end up doing damage control. He'd tried to talk to her about it when she got back from her appointment. But, as always, the discussion didn't resolve anything. She'd gone to garden, and he retreated here.

He gave his gouge a gingerly push behind the wolf's ear.

“Grampy.”

The sudden voice in the silence made him jump; the gouge cut deep into the ear itself. Fury leaped up inside him, and he knew he mustn't let it show. He turned. “What, Jakey?”

The boy stood in the shop door, but it was Mellie behind him with the hangdog look.

“She has to fess something,” Jakey blurted.

“Jakey! You weren't supposed to say that!”

Obviously, his carving time was shot. It sounded like he'd better put this fire out right away. Reluctantly he laid down his gouge. “Come over to the steps there and have a seat.” He scooped up a stepstool and plunked it down in front of the stairs. They sat and he sat facing them. “Okay, now what's all this about? Mellie?”

She licked her lips. “I heard you and Grammy arguing.” She waited. Nothing. She went on. “I was hiding and listening. I shouldn't have.”

He frowned. “Is that what you're confessing?”

She nodded. She looked so miserable that it made him feel sad.

“That's not so terrible. Is there more?”

“I shouldn't have been sneaking. When you and Grammy are arguing, I get scared because Mommy and Daddy used to all the time.”

Ken pondered this a moment. Realizing that Steig's home life must have been a kind of nightmare didn't help his sadness and anger at all. “You don't have to be scared. It's not about you. It's a little noisy here, but it's safe.”

“But you said about the kids…that's us…”

Jakey chimed in, “You and Grammy don't yell at each other, you just talk. Mellie said it was an argument, but it didn't sound like one. She said, ‘What am I gonna do,' and I said, ‘Grampy says always tell the truth. If you tell the truth, maybe he won't get mad.' And she said, ‘He's already mad.' So she made me come with her because you like me, and maybe you won't spank her if I'm here.”

“Spank her…?”
For listening?
“Let's go up into the house.”

They climbed upstairs to the kitchen, and Ken opened the back door. He called, “Mona? We have a problem here.”

Mona came in through the door and closed it behind her, pulling off her gardening gloves. Her eyes were all red and wet and puffy. Good, in a way—crying gave vent to at least some of her doubts and worries.

Ken explained, “Mellie here is frightened because we were arguing. I want to reassure them both that it's all right and that it's not about them. And we're not going to attack them or anything.”

She gasped. “Attack? Oh, dear, no! It's not you. Your world is all torn up; we understand that. It's not you.”

“But you said…” Mellie looked so confused and forlorn.

Ken looked at Mona. “Perhaps some ice cream will be the oil to soothe troubled waters.”

“Good idea. I think we have some cookies, too.” Mona reached for the cookie jar.

Mellie looked dubious as she climbed up on a stool. “Are you sure you aren't mad?”

Ken smiled. “Oh, I'm mad at all kinds of things, darling. But you're not one of them.”

It took the child a moment of concentration to figure out what he had just said, reminding him once again that he was going to have to adjust his speech. He was talking to small children, not college kids; although some college people acted like small children, including some professors.

Mona put the ice cream carton and scoop in front of him. As he dug into the hard ice cream, she set out bowls and spoons. This pleased him. At least she was functional and not curled up in bed all day, as occasionally happened. She settled at the counter with her own bowl of ice cream. “Your grampy and I were talking about something else the other day, Mellie. And I talked to Miz Beverly on the phone yesterday.”

“The lady at the pony farm!” Mellie brightened.

“We set up a schedule for a series of beginner riding lessons. I put them on my calendar.”
Good.
She didn't mention that when Ken and she discussed riding lessons, they agreed that the distraction would help Mellie deal with her fear for her daddy.

Mellie bobbed up and down on her stool, pumping her fists. How could she do that? Ken envied the strength and flexibility of youth; he was starting to lose his.

“I don't wanna.” Jakey stared at his ice cream a moment, then took another bite.

“You don't have to if you don't want to. This is mostly for Mellie. Remember what your daddy said in his letter?”

Ken asked, “Why don't you want to, Jakey?”

“Horses are big and they smell.”

“It's a good smell!” Mellie snapped. “And they have to be big to carry grown-ups around. Or pull wagons or things. Grammy, this is great!”

Ken nodded. “Jake, I understand now why you don't like horses, but cats are little and they don't smell. Why don't you like cats?”

“They scratch and bite.”

“Some dogs scratch and bite, but you like Ambrose.”

“He's different.”

“So is Hyacinth. She won't scratch or bite, and she's little and she doesn't smell.”

Mona chided, “Ken, you're expecting him to use logic. He's five.”

“Remember when Steig was five?”

“You mean the commercials around Christmastime?”

Ken smiled and explained to the kids, “When your daddy was your age, Jake, he and I would sit watching Saturday-morning cartoons, and we'd pick apart the commercials logically. He was actually very good at it. Pretty soon he was analyzing how they used a low camera angle to make a dinky little toy look big or how kids would be shown playing with it and laughing when it wasn't all that interesting to play with…We had a great time.”
And Steig still looks at life—and commercial pitches—analytically.
Ken should sit down and do the same thing with these kids.

“Mommy says cats are dirty.”

“Is Hyacinth dirty?”

Jakey frowned. He studied Hyacinth a moment as she sat in the doorway grooming herself. “No. She's clean.”

“I agree.” Ken kept his voice casual, but inside he was jumping up and down with delight. Jakey had inherited his father's natural bent for examining life critically. All he needed was to be encouraged in it. Ken scraped the last of his ice cream out.

Mellie asked, “May I have some more?”

Before Mona had a chance to argue about spoiling her appetite, Ken said, “Sure.” He wanted this teaching moment to continue. He dug out another scoopful. The ice cream was softening up slightly.

Mellie took her bowl back. “Thank you.” She scraped off a spoonful. “Mommy doesn't like horses, but Daddy does. But we couldn't have a horse because Mommy would have to take care of it when Daddy deployed. I promised her I'd take good care of it, but she said no.”

Ken agreed. “They're a lot of work every day.” Surreptitiously, he glanced now and then at Jakey. The little boy was studying the cat when he wasn't scraping up the last of his ice cream. Did Mona see it, too?

Mellie stared more at nothing than at her ice cream. What was going on in that pretty little head? “I so wish we could find out about Daddy.”

“So do we, honey. So do we.” Mona looked ready to cry again.

“I think he's dead. Do you think he's dead? I mean, is that what you really think?” She looked at Mona.

“I pray for him all the time. So does Grampy. And we both know God answers prayer. So no, not dead. I believe your daddy is still alive somewhere. I also know that God knows where he is because God watches over all of us and that He will take care of him.”

Ken added, “And I believe that also. We both pray to God to keep him safe.”

“I pray for Mommy and Daddy every night, too.” Jakey pushed his bowl toward Ken and looked at him hopefully.

Ken chuckled, “Sure,” and served Jakey a short scoopful.

Mona still looked near tears. “I am learning to trust that God knows the situation and will bring your daddy back to us. I trust God for that.”

Mellie pondered a moment. “You usually say ‘God's will be done' when we pray.”

“That's right.”

“What if it's God's will that he just kill Daddy off? What about then?”

Ken's mouth dropped open. Suddenly this teachable moment felt more like damage control, and he had no idea how to respond.

Mona got up to retrieve a tissue from the other end of the counter. She blew her nose, and tears were coursing down her cheeks. “I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”

The phone rang.

She grimaced; it was probably supposed to be a smile. “We'll clean up. You answer the phone.”

He nodded, snatched up the kitchen handset, and carried it into the other room, looking at the phone screen. It was Sandy's cell. What else was going to go wrong today?
Ken, for crying out loud, don't adopt Mona's negativism.

“Hey, Sandy.”

“Ken, I'm in the procurement office, my new workplace…” She began to talk. And talk.

He said nothing, mostly because there was nothing more to say. There was nothing more to do. He listened to the sadness in her words just as much as he listened to the words. They spoke a few more minutes, he thanked her, and they said their good-byes. He thumbed the phone line closed and just stared at it a moment.

So Dale had won. He wandered back to the kitchen pretty much in a daze.

Mona frowned at him. “Ken? Who was it?”

“Sandy.” He flopped onto a stool, laid the phone aside, and sank forward to lean his elbows on the counter, his face in his hands.

Mona laid a hand on his shoulder. “What?”

Ken drew a deep breath and sat up. “I built a legacy, Mona, an important and useful legacy. It helped to make Stone University a much better place, a splendid educational institution. My department helped the students get through, helped them become successful. And now the worst has happened, and that legacy is gone. Rather than fight over who would head the department, they simply gutted it. Pulled Sandy off to do a clerical job in procurement and put in a minimum-wage wonk to answer the phone and direct everything financial over to John's office. The department I built, all the work I did, has disappeared forever.”

H
ow do we help these children when we are falling apart ourselves?”

Mona stared at the face in the mirror the following morning. Red eyes from weeping, weeping from being angry and afraid and wanting to hide. Beating the bag just made her arms hurt; it used to help her feel better, but now she and Ken were arguing and the kids were terrified and there were no answers. It just kept getting worse and worse. And here she thought she had beaten the depression that had been so debilitating. Pride, that's what happened. How could they have forgotten that the children might hear them?

She soaked a washcloth in cold water and applied it to her face. While it almost helped, perhaps an ice pack would be more effective. She dipped and wrung out the cloth again, still to no appreciable avail. Water dripped down on her top, reminding her of the call to come back for another mammogram. She'd never had that happen before. She'd done a manual breast check like they taught at the center, but she'd not felt any lumps. Nor pain. Surely it was an error. Surely. But the technician explicitly said they now had far fewer recalls because of the superior analysis of the machine.

Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back, then took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt at keeping her thoughts under control. The verse floated through her mind. “…Take every thought captive.” Sometimes this was far easier than at other times. Like right now. Just the thought of cancer could throw her into total panic. Her mother had died of breast cancer. Granted, that was twenty years earlier, and there had been amazing changes but…
You haven't told Ken.
That thought piled on top of the other. Guilt and fear, two close cousins who loved traveling together.

She applied the cold cloth to her face again; anything was better than nothing. Another thing she was trying to learn. Life was not black and white, either/or. All or nothing. What her father always said. Black and white to the bone. Stiff elbowed, she propped her hands on the counter and dropped her head forward.
Breathe! And again!
After the third inhale and release, she pulled out a tissue, blew her nose, and reached for the face cream. Step one: Tell Ken. Step two: Fix supper. Step three: Apologize to the kids. Putting herself in their shoes made her cringe even more. They'd surely seen and / or heard their parents fighting. And Mom left them. Deliberately walked out of their lives. And now their dad was gone, too.

And Grammy and Grampy were arguing.

Lord God, please protect them and help us to let go of our own fears and frustrations to help them deal with theirs. Forgive me for thinking of myself first and being stubborn as to what I want. I don't know what to do or where to turn, but I know You do. I've got to remember that.
Slamming the washcloth in the sink did not help, so she squeezed it out again and hung it on the towel rack.

A whimper snagged her attention. Both Ambrose and Hyacinth sat in the doorway. Ambrose whimpered again, his tail barely wagging. Even the dog and cat could tell things were bad. She sniffed and knelt down in front of them. “You are far too perceptive.” Doggy kisses, purrs, and rubs of the cat persuasion could be an amazing antidote to the blues. She fluffed ears and smoothed their faces. “You are the best and I thank you. How about some treats?”

They spun and headed for the stairs, Ambrose checking over his shoulder to make sure she was coming. Treats for the four-footed family reminded her that treats for the senior member of their pack would not be amiss. “Where's Dad?” she asked.

Ambrose looked toward the stairs to the basement, then took a few steps that way.

“Okay, thanks.” She delivered the promised treats, then filled glasses with iced tea and made her way down to the daylit basement that housed Ken's woodshop, their stationary bike and treadmill, and the laundry room. A game room took up the remainder of the space. She stopped in the doorway. Ken had his back to her, sanding something held by clamps to the workbench.

“You ready to take a break?”

He turned and blinked. “I didn't hear you come down.”

“You were concentrating.” She motioned with the tray. “Inside or out?”

“Outside. I need some fresh air.”

“You don't have your fan on?”

Ken had installed an exhaust system to catch the dust made by working with wood and tools. It vented out the side wall. He dumped the collection bag in the compost when needed.

“Guess I forgot.” The four of them padded outside to the shade created by the deck overhead and sat down at the table and chairs. “Nice out here, isn't it?” He mopped the sweat from his forehead. “I was so engrossed I didn't even realize I was hot.”

She handed him his glass. “The critters reminded me it was treat time.”

He looked at her over the rim of his glass. “Something's wrong.”

“You know me too well.” She wiped the rim of the glass with one finger, then looked back to her husband. “I have to ask you to forgive me for my bad attitude and the way I've been picking fights.”

“Who's to say you're the one setting up the fights?” He shook his head. “Of course I forgive you and ask that you will do the same for me. Too much, it's all been too much lately.”

“For me, too. Only I run and hide under the covers.”

“I've felt like that. Going fishing helps me, but I've not even been able to do that much lately.”

“I love you, Ken Sorenson. I know I've not said that very often lately. Anger took over. I really don't like myself when I act like this.”

“Join the club.” He sipped his tea. “Thank you for taking the initiative here.” He reached for her hand. “In spite of the way I've acted, I love you now and forever. Please don't ever forget that.”

She nodded. “I have another confession to make.”

He squeezed her hand. “Okay.”

“I have to go back for another mammogram, more tests.”

“They found something?”

“She was pretty noncommittal. I go tomorrow.”

“When did you learn this?”

“Yesterday afternoon. I thought it was no big deal, and then the thoughts took off. Then they called this morning about another test. Just the word
cancer
terrifies me.”

“Me, too.”

“All the memories of Mom came flooding back and—and I lost it for a while.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“If you don't mind.”

He shook his head. “What time?”

“Ten, after we get the kids to the pool for lessons.”

Ken huffed out a breath. “Will you tell them?”

“Not now, but Ken, we have to apologize to them for scaring them with all this arguing. They're trying so hard to be brave, but they're little children. I'm sure Steig had no idea what kind of burden he was laying on his eldest when he said she should take care of her little brother.”

“And for them to be brave. So easy to say, but…” He paused. “After supper, let's do the sofa together, and then we'll go for a walk and talk.”

That evening, with all of them snuggled on the sofa, Ken started. “Grammy and I have something really important to tell you.”

“Is my daddy gone to heaven?” Jake asked.

“Oh no, no, this is not about your daddy, this is about us here.” Mona hugged Jakey, who sat between her and Ken, and Mellie tucked under her arm on her other side.

“We need to ask you to forgive us for getting mad at each other. We are so sorry. Sometimes we say things when we are angry that after we get over it, we wish we'd not said. It is not your fault Grampy and I got angry.”

Ken nodded. “We love you both more than we can say. But that's what's bad about fighting. We have to talk about things without getting angry and blaming.”

Mellie was staring at her knees.

Mona continued. “We are a family, and we have a lot to deal with right now. But we stick together. And get through it together. No one hides or runs away.”

“Like Mommy?”

“Hush, Jakey, Daddy said…”

“It's okay, Mellie. Sometimes we have to talk about Mommy and Daddy, too. They are part of our lives. Your daddy didn't know what was going to happen, and he was trying his very best to make things easier for his two kids who he loves more than anything else.”

“I want my daddy to come home.” Mellie's voice sounded like a little girl lost.

“We all do. So we'll keep talking about him and praying that God will bring him home again. And if you don't understand something, we'll figure it out together.”

Mona hugged them both, as did Ken.

“You're squishing me.” Jake's giggle brought more giggles from the rest.

“I think we need to go for a walk along the river,” Ken said.

“All of us?”

“All of us.”

Jake ran for the leads and Hyacinth's harness.

Mellie cuddled closer. “I love you both.”

“And we love you. How about getting some shoes on, not the flip-flops?”

“'Kay.”

Mona grabbed the mosquito spray, did all arms and legs, and away they went. When Ken handed Jake Hyacinth's lead, the little boy did not object.

“One step at a time,” Ken said that evening after the kids were in bed and he and Mona were getting ready for bed.

“Like for the mammo?” Mona sat down on the bed to take off her slippers.

“Yes, especially that, but for all we've talked about today. We have to trust that God is indeed in control, and we cannot afford to worry about what is going to happen with each of us.” Ken sat down on the other side. “Me and the mess at Stone, you and your preschool job, and your tests tomorrow, Steig, the kids, all of us. The burdens are too big for us to carry, so we have to let Him carry them for us. Otherwise, I don't know what will happen to us.”

“Waiting is hard.”

“Now, that's the truth for sure.” He slid under the sheet and light summer blanket. “I keep asking for wisdom for us.”

“Thanks. I hope there are no nightmares tonight, either in there or here.”

“Amen to that.”

Breathing deep the next morning was all that kept Mona from the shakes or running screaming from the clinic. Clinging to Ken's hand helped, too.
You usually handle things so much better than this,
she chided herself. But right now she had cooked-spaghetti knees, and they weren't holding her up too well.

“Mona Sorenson?”

Mona used both arms to push herself up from the chair and followed the scrubs-dressed woman down the hall, a different one than she'd been in the other day. “Will the tests be the same?”

“Pretty much, but more views and more localized.” She motioned to a curtained cubicle. “Strip to your waist, and put on that sexy top on the table. Got to look good for the machine, you know.”

In spite of herself, Mona smiled. Levity was always a help. “Open in the front?”

“Yes, ma'am. Sexier that way.”

“Just wondering, as I've never been much of a one for showing cleavage.”

Nodding and grinning, the escort said, “Good one. I'll have to remember that. Some women come in here so terrified, I try to set them at ease. Thanks to machines like this, we can detect so early, cancer doesn't have a chance. You are smart to keep up your yearly visit.”

Feeling more encouraged, Mona did as told, waited only a few minutes, and followed all the instructions as precisely as she could, anything to get all the needed information.

“You can get dressed now,” the technician said with a smile.

“You've done enough of these, surely you can give me some information.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't. The law requires a licensed radiologist to give the reports. They'll call you within twenty-four hours if you need more tests; otherwise, they send a letter.” She paused and smiled. “Watch your mailbox.”

Relief felt like stepping into a perfect bubble bath. “Thank you.”

Telling Ken the story made her smile all over again.

“Well, that is good news. She's rather clever, I'd say. How about I take you out to lunch to celebrate?”

“I'd love to, but we need to pick up the kids at the pool. Marit had something she had to do.”

“Oh, well, it was a good idea. Are they all coming to our house?”

“No, Marit's sitter Steffie will take the cousins. Remember, Mellie has her first real riding lesson this afternoon.”

“That's right, I totally forgot. Well, I'm sure she'll have fun and you, too; you've always liked horses.”

Have fun.
Easier said than done until the medications kicked in completely. Mona would have to pretend to have fun, though, for Mellie's sake. Mona kept that in mind as they drove through the gate at Clauson's farm.

Jakey sat scowling and did not look out his window. “Isn't this the most perfect day ever?” Mellie beamed.

“I don't like horses.” Jakey pouted.

Mellie leaned forward, straining to see every horse as they drove to the stables, where Miz Beverly was waving at them. Mellie was out of the car before the wheels stopped.

Ken, Mona, and Jakey got out. Jakey insisted, “I don't wanna ride horses.”

“Good to see you again.” Miz Beverly waved toward the slim young girl beside her. “Mellie, this is Miss Dixie, our best riding instructor. She loves horses and she loves kids. Starbright is waiting for you. She really loves to be groomed, so you will make an immediate friend.”

Miss Dixie led them to a stall halfway down the barn. “Now, the first thing our new riders learn is putting on a halter, cross tying, grooming, and how to put on bridle and saddle.”

“All that?” Mellie's eyes grew rounder.

“And then you get to mount up and ride. Mrs. Sorenson, I suggest you learn right along with Mellie since someday you may indeed have a horse of your own.”