The Way of Women (38 page)

She nodded, as did Frank. “Thank you.”

“Look, can we postpone this discussion until after we eat? I haven’t had a decent meal since dinner at your mother’s, and I’m really hungry.”

Jenn nodded. “Of course.” Her salad looked much more appetizing now.

“Remember when …” Frank started the ball rolling, and she passed it back like any decent soccer player. Memories carried them through the salads and the main course, all the while, Jenn was wishing they could talk about now. But a cheerful dinner companion was worth the wait, and she had always enjoyed Frank’s stories. One time they’d even talked about
putting a book together. He’d do the stories and she’d take the pictures, a historical about the land they loved.

Jenn shoved her plate slightly forward and used the warm wet cloth provided to make sure she wasn’t wearing any of the sauce. “You remember that idea we had about collecting the old stories around the mountain?”

“Sure, haven’t thought about that in ages.”

“I’ve been thinking about it, for when I come back.”

“Come back?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you the other night. I have to go back to New York because I have three contracts to fill. Should take about three weeks, and I have to close up my apartment.”

“You’re coming back here.”

“Yes.”

“I hear a ‘but’ in your voice.”

She tongued her teeth on the left side, wishing she were anywhere but right here, right now. This man knew her too well.

She gave a small nod. “I gave up drugs and booze.”

“Congratulations.” His eyes did that narrowing trick again. “So?”

“So, in order to stay clean and sober, I know that I cannot be around others who drink, at least for a time—until I get stronger, you know?”

“And you’re saying …” He leaned back, his shoulders rigid, one finger tapping the shiny table.

“I’m saying that for my own salvation I …”

“No, you’re saying that my drinking is causing …”

Jenn grabbed her courage by the neck and hauled it up in front of her. “I’m saying that your drinking is wrecking your life, and no matter how much I love you, I can have no part of it.” She heard herself use the
l
word but hoped it slid right by him.

“Is that love as in friendship, or …?”

She met his gaze. “I don’t know, Frank, and right now I’m afraid to find out.” She tried to keep her gaze steady and not look away first. But could she control the size of her pupils? Most likely not, since she could feel her heart kicking up a notch.

“So, you’re saying if I keep drinking, you won’t come back?”

“No. I’m coming back, but I can’t stand by and see you destroy your life.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she slowly shook her head. “I just can’t.”

“But it’s my life.”

“Yes.”

“And what I drink is my choice. I’m not hurting anyone but me, and I don’t see that I’m hurting myself. I know I tie one on once in a while, but, lady”—he leaned forward, menace making her swallow—“no one tells me what to do.”

“I wasn’t telling you, Frank. I was pleading. And trying to explain myself.”

“Funny, it didn’t sound that way to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jenn picked up her coat and, standing, slung her purse over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Frank.”

Walking out of that room was the hardest thing she ever did. Especially when she heard him call, “Waiter.” She knew what he was doing. Ordering another drink.

“God, save him. I sure can’t.”

She replayed the scene in her mind fifty times between Portland and New York. And never could make it come out right.

When the flight attendant offered her a drink, she almost accepted. After all, what did it matter? She could always go home and drink along with Frank. And when she couldn’t sleep, she had sleeping pills in her carry-on. But again, the fear of one more kept her not only awake but more sober than she’d ever been in her life.

Watching dreams die had that effect on one.

M
rs. Sedor, have you chosen a funeral home yet?” Telemarketers sounded more personal than the voice on the phone.

“No, I …” Panic attacked like a starving lioness with cubs, ripping her throat, clamping her heart, and shredding the edges of her vision.

“Mrs. Sedor. Mrs. Sedor, is there someone there with you?”

“No, I …” Her breath came in gasps.

“Are you all right?” The calm voice upped a degree in insistence.

Take a deep breath. Easy, you can do this
. The voice comforted, held, and encouraged her. The voice, a voice, deep, melodious, and constant like the song of the sea.
There now, very good, another breath, hang on to me, I will hold you up, see with my strong right hand I will hold you
.

She took another breath, this one actually going down into her lungs. The lioness backed off, and Mellie could hear.

“I am all right now.” She spoke each word cautiously, as if carelessness would bring back the attacker. “Please, continue.”

“Whew, you scared me there for a minute.”

“Me too. I’m sorry for—”

“No, don’t be sorry. You have had a great shock, and today I compound it. Forgive me for being abrupt.”

The gentleness was nearly Mellie’s undoing. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Please tell me what to do. I … I mean, my husband … Harv took care of everything.” She sniffed and reached for a tissue. “But now I must, and I know my Father—my heavenly Father—will get me through. He promised.”

There was a pause on the line, then a sniff and the sound of a nose being blown. “Thank you for the reminder.”

“You are welcome. Now, what is the next step?”

“You need to call a funeral home. You might ask your pastor whom he suggests. Then you tell us, and we will ship your husband’s remains to where you decide. All of this will be taken care of thanks to A-1 Logging.”

Mellie thought back to the man who had called on her at the hospital. They were indeed doing what he had said they would.

“Then you need to discuss with them or with your pastor how you want the rest of the arrangements handled.”

“I see.”

They finished the conversation with the woman giving Mellie a phone number to call and then she hung up.

Lissa was asleep, so Mellie called their pastor and explained where they were.

“Ah, Mellie, I know this is terribly hard for you. Would you like me to call them for you?”

Yes, please, take it all away
. She closed her eyes.
My right hand will uphold you
. “Thank you, but no. I need to do these things. Harv always
said God would be here for us, for me, and He is. Just tell me what the procedures are.”

Pastor Dahlquist laid out the usual plan. “But, Mellie, I don’t believe you should go down there alone. I will go with you. Can you go this afternoon?”

“Yes. But I cannot take Lissa to a funeral home like that.”

“I know. I’ll bring someone to watch her. Now, you need to call the mortuary and then call the number back from Longview.” He paused. “And, Mellie, we need to talk about a memorial service for Harv.”

“Do we have to do that?”

“No, but I believe it will be good in the long run. He touched far more lives than I think you realize.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

Strong right hand
. She dialed the numbers, answered the questions, and, when she hung up the phone, she sat still, held close in a circle of comfort.

Jenn, Katheryn, Mr. Johnson, who came home from the nursing home that day, and Pastor Dahlquist surrounded Mellie and Lissa as they lowered the casket into the ground on Friday afternoon.

“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, we commit this body to earth from which we come, knowing Harv’s soul is already home, rejoicing with our heavenly Father. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Let us pray.”

As he led them in prayer, Mellie made no effort to stem her tears, as if she had any control. Katheryn put her left arm around her waist and
Jenn her right. Lissa laid her head on her mother’s chest, and Mr. Johnson put his hands on her shoulders.

Pastor Dahlquist drizzled dirt in the shape of the cross on the simple coffin, stepped back, and raised his hands in blessing. “Now may the God of all peace and love, comfort and strengthen you in the days ahead. Go in peace.”

They stood there a few moments while a house finch sang his song in the tree above them. The fragrance of newly cut grass and newly turned earth floated around them as they returned to the waiting cars.

“Thank you for coming.” Mellie rocked Lissa, who remained in her arms, legs locked around her mother’s waist. “I never dreamed”—she looked to Jenn—“that you would come so far.”

“Thank God for red-eye flights. I think there is a reason they are called that.”

“The church ladies have brought food and beverages to your house, so if you would all like to go to Mellie’s, we can visit there.” Pastor Dahlquist held open the door of his car, and Mellie settled into the front seat, Mr. Johnson in the back.

“We’ll see you there.” Katheryn and Jenn both nodded.

They had all just walked in the door when the phone rang. Mellie set Lissa down and went to answer it. Who would be calling? All her friends were right here, and what amazing friends she had.

“Mrs. Sedor, this is Anika from the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center. We have had a sudden opening, and if you can be here with Lissa first thing tomorrow morning, we will start the procedure.”

“T-tomorrow? But that’s Saturday.”

“I know. Is there a reason you can’t be here?”

“No.” She smothered the rising panic with a firm breath. “We will be there.”

She hung up and, sucking in a lung full, turned to the waiting group. “We start treatment at the center tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll be there with you.” Jenn and Katheryn exchanged nods as they looked back at Mellie.

“Praise God.” Mr. Johnson shook his head. “God is healing our little girl. And I’m right here to take care of Kitty for you.”

Lissa looked from her mother to Mr. Johnson. “Did God make you all better?”

“Yes. And pretty quick too.”

“He made my daddy all better?”

Mellie blinked but nodded. “Yes.”

“He’s all better.” Pastor Dahlquist blinked a couple of times. “Better than he’s ever been and happier than he’s ever been.”

“You promise?” Standing in the circle of adults, Lissa stared up at him.

“I promise.”

She nodded. “I’m hungry.”

“Good for you, Lissa. Let’s go see what all they brought.” He took her hand, and they walked toward the kitchen.

“Do you feel like we’re caught up in a whirlwind?” Jenn asked.

“I mean, things like this just don’t happen.”

“I know. Harv is talking to the higher-ups and convincing them to get cracking on taking care of his little girl, since he can’t be here right now.” Jenn did a little tap and shuffle dance step. “Yes, Harv.”

“Not sure how scriptural that is, but the Bible says the Holy Spirit pleads for us when we don’t know what to say.”

“It also says we have a heavenly host of those who’ve gone before cheering us on.” Katheryn scrunched her eyes. “I don’t remember where, but I do remember a pastor preaching on it one time.”

Mellie smiled at her friend. She knew that Katheryn had spent a good part of the week in bed, with no will to get up. But here she was, looking much more like herself than Mellie expected, although thinner and with well-concealed dark circles under her eyes. And Jenn flew clear across the country to be here.

Mr. Johnson smiled at her, his face once more with healthy color, not that gray she’d seen in the CCU. “I don’t know where you found these two, but they are keepers.” He motioned to each of her friends.

“I know. You too.”

“Wish I could drive you up there, but the doctor said I can’t drive for a couple of weeks yet.”

Mellie sucked in a deep breath to calm her heart that leaped at the thought she was about to share. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, whatever you need, you know that.”

“When the insurance money comes, and we have time to go buy me a car, I want you to teach me how to drive.”

The three of them stared at her. She could feel them drilling into her heart.

“Well, I’ll be …” Jenn was the first to recover, her smile broadening by the second.

“You want to learn to drive?” Katheryn shook her head, little movements from side to side, as if this was beyond possible.

“Mellie, dear, I would be most honored.”

They all hugged her at once.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

“I know.”

“In the next couple of days, a real big surprise is going to come visit you.”

Lissa turned from her mother to Jenn.

“What s’prise?”

“I’ll never tell.” The four of them stood under the portico of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center.

“Will I like it?”

“You’d better. And you have to call and tell me what you think.”

“I don’t have a telephone.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find you one.”

Katheryn checked the bag she carried. “Yup, books and color crayons. Oh, and a funny long bunny.”