Garden of Dreams

by Leslie Gould

  “How is Rob doing?” Joya asked.

  “I think he’s okay. Shaken. Scared. Better, though. He was pretty upset I hadn’t told him.”

  “Told him what?” Joya asked.

  “About my family history.” Joya shook her head.

  “You don’t know? I thought everyone knew.” So Thomas hadn’t known when he posed the question about the Ten Commandments on Sunday. She’d chosen to tell her tulip-stealing story because she thought Thomas wanted her to confess to deceiving Rob. Why had she said anything?

  “My father, grandfather, and aunt all died from pancreatic cancer.”

  “And you hadn’t told Rob?” Jill shook her head. “Why not?”

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference.” Joya crossed her arms. “What exactly did the surgeon say?” Jill moved her legs, bent her knees, put her feet flat on the mattress.

  “It’s spread to the lymph nodes. They couldn’t get all of the tumor.”

  “And the treatment?” “Chemotherapy. Radiation.” “How do you feel spiritually?” “Rocked.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like God is rocking me, gently, like a baby.”

  Joya’s eyes furrowed together. “I truly believe God is going to heal you. I think he has some things for you to learn, hard lessons, in this. I think, for you to be healed, you need to be willing to learn those lessons.”

  Jill thought of Joya wadding the silk scarf in Argentina. She wondered if she would feel angry if it were someone else, someone besides Joya, talking to her about healing and learning lessons.

  “May I pray for you?” Joya asked.

  Jill nodded. Her mind wandered to the first time she saw Joya sitting in the small stucco church in Argentina on a metal chair. She was holding Louise. Three-year-old David, a red-headed child with fair skin who held the promise of freckles, sat on Rob’s lap. Thomas sat beside Joya, his long legs bumping against the chair in front of him. Even though Rob was holding David, Jill knew that Joya and Thomas were married. She kept glancing at the group throughout the service. Rob was single; she could tell by the gentle way he held David. Thomas was an intellectual, totally engrossed in the teaching. She wasn’t sure about Joya. She seemed matter-of-fact toward Louise. Polite toward Thomas. Attentive toward Rob. Annoyed with David, who kept talking, interrupting. She seemed tired.

  After the service, Jill singled Joya out and introduced herself. The next day Joya called and invited Jill to dinner. Jill knew Rob would be there—even though Joya hadn’t said he’d been invited.

  Jill was aware of Joya praying, asking God to give Rob grace and the boys strength, asking for Jill’s spiritual healing.

  “Amen,” Joya said.

  “Amen,” Jill echoed, relieved Joya was finished.

  “God is most interested in healing you spiritually,” Joya said. “The physical healing will follow.”

  Jill wondered what particular spiritual area Joya thought she needed healing in, but she didn’t ask.

  “Thanks,” she said to Joya.

  “I’d better go get Louise. And you should get some rest.”

  Jill smiled.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Joya left the room.

  She knew Caye was right. She was tolerant of Joya. The reasons why were rooted in those first few months in Argentina when Jill and Rob were falling in love. Joya and Thomas were there, offering advice, asking them over to dinner, encouraging them. Jill was enthralled with their children. David was smart and inquisitive. Louise was just learning to crawl. Jill wanted a husband and children, a home. Joya and Thomas, for those few months, were her role models for a family. As for a home, Jill’s style was very different from Joya’s simple, monklike approach. Joya seemed to have no interest in decorating or aesthetic comforts.

  Joya said that Jill was an answer to prayer. She’d been praying for a wife for Rob. “It really is time for him to settle down,” Joya told Jill, without going into detail.

  Jill opened the envelope from Joya. Inside was a plain white card. Written in Joya’s meticulous printing were the words: We are praying for you.

  It was signed Thomas, Joya, and Louise, all in Joya’s simple cursive.

  Two years ago Jill and Joya had planned an Easter dinner for the Fellowship. They sat in Jill’s living room. The contractors had just finished the kitchen. The painters were coming the next day to paint the interior of the house. It was two weeks before Easter.

  Joya made a comment about Liam’s Nike shoes. “He’s not even walking yet,” she’d said. “He doesn’t need thirty dollar shoes. How can you throw money away so carelessly when there are so many hungry children in the world?”

  Jill changed the subject back to Easter, ignoring Joya’s comment. She made a mental note not to repeat Joya’s criticism to Caye. Caye took Joya’s off-the-cuff statements too seriously.

  Jill said she thought they should have a sit-down dinner. She had a great recipe for rack of lamb with mint sauce. It was the perfect entree for Easter.

  “I didn’t think you ate meat,” Joya said.

  “I eat meat,” Jill said. “Just not very often.”

  “So it’s not a philosophical thing?”

  Jill ignored her. “I can move the breakfast table into the dining room and all fifteen of us, kids included, can sit together.” Jill had just purchased the mahogany dining room set from an antique dealer; she looked forward to using it.

  “That’s so much work,” Joya said, “so many details. Let’s just do a potluck buffet and use paper plates.”

  “I’ll do all the work,” Jill said.

  “Do you think God wants you to spend your time doing all that?” Joya asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It just seems like a waste of time.”

  “Look at nature,” Jill said. “Look at all the details. Do you think that’s a waste of time?”

  Joya looked outside Jill’s window and then back at Jill. “Are you comparing yourself to God?”

  They ended up having a sit-down potluck. Jill made the rack of lamb. No paper plates. They used Jill’s Royal Copenhagen china.

  From time to time, Jill thought about Joya’s comment. Joya was right; Jill did feel God-like in what she created—her paintings, her garden, her home. After all, God created her in his image.

  But she knew that wasn’t what Joya meant. She was sure that Joya saw her as controlling and extravagant, closer to Napoleon than a person simply reveling in creation and the ability to create. Jill sometimes wondered if they would have stuck with the Fellowship had they not known Thomas and Joya in Argentina. Still, she felt loyal to Joya, felt that she needed to be protected. Through it all, flaws included, she felt that the Fellowship was a good thing.

  Caye pulled into the driveway with Andrew in the seat beside her. She needed a cup of coffee—she should have stopped on her way through downtown after picking Andrew up from school.

  The screen door to the house stood open. Scout guarded the entryway. Caye heard screaming as she opened the car door. Simon. She and Andrew walked up the steps. No, too shrill. Liam.

  “Mom, can you buy me the LEGOs cavalry set? Can we go over to the mall? Hudson saw it awhile back. Over in Medford.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Caye said, quickening her pace. The screams were growing louder. She hurried through the door. Rita carried Liam down the open staircase, followed by Hudson and Audrey. Simon sat at the bottom of the stairs, a slobbery leaf from the ficus tree in his hand.

  Liam leaned toward Caye, willing himself out of Rita’s arms, as the older woman maneuvered the bottom step, avoiding Simon. Caye took Liam carefully, securing him around the waist, avoiding his right arm that hung limply, untying his cape so she could get a closer look.

  “Mommy!” Liam screamed over and over. “I want Mommy”

  “It’s broken,” Caye said to Rita. “We need to call
Rob.”

  Rita stared at her. It was obvious who was going to call Rob. Poor Rita. What a day for her to watch the kids.

  “What happened?” Caye asked Hudson and Audrey, as she patted Liam and swayed back and forth with him.

  They’d been playing Batman on the bunk beds.

  “He thought he could fly,” Audrey explained.

  “And?” Caye asked. “Did you tell him he couldn’t?”

  “No.”

  “You’re in big trouble,” Andrew told Audrey and Hudson. “You’re really going to get it now.”

  “Did you try to stop him?” Caye asked Audrey and Hudson.

  They shrugged in unison. “We thought maybe he could,” Audrey whispered.

  “Liam, don’t cry so loudly, okay?” Caye said, turning away from Audrey and Hudson. “I need to call your daddy.”

  Caye sat in the ER waiting room at Ashland Community Hospital staring at the spot where Audrey had been born.

  The doctor was sure Liam’s arm was broken. “Flying off the top bunk will do that,” the doctor chuckled before ordering the x-ray. “But it doesn’t seem to be a particularly bad break.”

  “I feel like Job,” Rob said as he carried Liam down the hall.

  Caye stretched her legs and smoothed her khaki skirt. Nathan had probably talked to Rita by now, already knew what had happened, why she wasn’t there. Rob needed to go over to see Jill in Medford—too bad they were at the Ashland hospital. If they’d gone to Medford, Caye could at least be with Jill; she hated that Jill was alone so much.

  Caye’s mother, in response to hard times, often said, “When it rains, it pours.” It was pouring. She never remembered her mother making the comment during good times.

  This morning seemed like a week ago; even dropping Marion off at the airport seemed like days ago. She still hadn’t had her afternoon coffee.

  Rob stood in the doorway holding Liam. The room was dark. Jill raised the bed partway.

  “Hey, you,” she said, lifting her head. “Who do you have?” she asked. “Hudson?”

  “Mommy thinks you’re Hudson,” Rob said. “It’s because you’re getting so big.”

  “It must be Liam,” Jill said.

  “We had an accident,” Rob explained. “Just a little one. Liam decided to be Batman; he flew off the top bunk.” “Hudson said, ‘Do it.’” Liam hiccuped. “Oh, sweetie,” Jill said. “Come here.”

  Rob sat down beside her on the bed. He slid Liam off his lap onto the bed next to Jill.

  Jill squeezed Rob’s arm. “Look, Liam,” she said, “you have a cast!”

  Liam started to crawl onto Jill. “Wait,” she said. “Let me sit up more. Then you can sit beside me.”

  Liam began to cry again.

  “It’s okay,” Jill said.

  He tried to crawl on top of her. Rob grabbed him by his good arm; Liam began to scream.

  “Rob!” Jill said. “Be careful.” Why did he come over? For Liam? For her? For himself?

  Jill raised the bed and sat up straight. “Put Liam beside me. Come on, Liam. You can’t sit on me, but I can still hug you.”

  Liam settled next to Jill and calmed down. Jill put her arm around him and drew him close, then began to stroke his hair.

  Rob walked to the window and began pacing.

  “Caye thought I should come over,” Rob explained. “I didn’t want to take Liam back to the house.”

  “Who’s with Hudson and Simon?”

  “Rita. Or maybe Caye now. I’m not sure.”

  “How was work?”

  “Okay. No. Not okay. I was right in the middle of a conference call when Caye paged me about all this.” Liam hiccuped again.

  Jill shifted her attention to him. “May I be the first to sign your cast?”

  “Why?”

  “That’s what people do. They sign casts.” Liam nodded solemnly.

  “Do you have a pen, Rob?”

  Rob pulled a blue ballpoint pen out of his shirt pocket.

  Jill drew a heart but not an ordinary one, a lacey, old-fashioned Valentine heart, and then figures of a little boy in knickers and a woman in a long dress in the middle of the heart. “That’s us,” she explained. “You and me.” Liam smiled. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you broke your arm.”

  Liam began to sniffle. Jill hugged him.

  “I should get going,” Rob said. He bent to pick Liam up, this time gently. “I’ll come over tomorrow. I’ll take a long lunch.” He paused. “I don’t know how much time to take off—how much I’ll need later.”

  “I know,” Jill said.

  “Are you okay?”

  Jill nodded.

  He kissed her, leaning down with Liam on his hip. Jill kissed Rob on the lips and then Liam on the cheek. “I hate this,” Rob said.

  “I’ll be home soon,” Jill said. “A week from now.”

  Rob frowned.

  “A week. It seems like forever.”

  “Bye, Mommy.”

  “Bye-bye, Liam. I love you, Rob.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know you love me.”

  Do you love me too? she wanted to ask as he left the dark room. But she didn’t want to grovel. She knew he did. She knew he was feeling overwhelmed. And angry. Was he angry with her? Angry that she hadn’t warned him? Angry at the circumstances? Angry with the boys?

  She hated this time of the day when darkness settled and night arrived.

  When she was growing up, she’d turn on all the lights, the TV, and the radio as the day grew dark. Marion would scold her for wasting electricity, for wasting money.

  Jill felt as if the emergency-broadcasting signal of her childhood were going off, as if it would not stop. The shrill tone had her attention; she was glued to the strips of color on the TV. Waiting to hear that it was just a test.

  She ran her hands along her abdomen, along the bandages. Her stomach was swollen. She felt so bloated.

  It wasn’t a test.

  “When are you coming home?” Nathan asked over the phone.

  “As soon as Rob and Liam get back.” Caye didn’t tell him they’d gone over to see Jill; he’d assume they were still at the Ashland hospital. “There’s leftover spaghetti in the refrigerator.”

  He hadn’t asked how bad Liam’s break was. Or how she was doing.

  “Remember I have a game tomorrow,” Nathan said. “In Eugene. And Andrew has a tee ball game in the morning.”

  Caye hadn’t remembered Andrew’s game.

  “I just remembered he missed practice last night,” Nathan added. He sounded like Eeyore. “And he missed last week, too.”

  Caye felt her irritation rising as she held the phone. “I’ll be home as soon as I can,” she said. “See you then.”

  She fed the kids leftover pizza, then bathed Simon and Hudson while Andrew and Audrey colored at the kitchen table. All the kids were tired and cranky. She gave Simon his bottle and put him to bed.

  She heard Rob’s Jeep in the driveway. He came in carrying Liam, who was fast asleep, his casted arm draped awkwardly over Rob’s shoulder.

  “Go get your pajamas on,” Caye said to Andrew and Audrey as they hurried through the back door, the cat sneaking by their legs. Abra looked skinny, too skinny, and the long white fur under her chin was tangled.

  “Daddy!” Audrey yelled.

  The house was dark. Only the TV was on. Nathan was asleep on the couch.

  Audrey climbed up on his lap. He put one arm around her and opened one eye.

  “We’re home!”

  “Good,” he said. “I was starting to feel like a bachelor.”

  “Pajamas,” Caye said. “Both of you.”

  The phone rang. Caye picked it up. She heard crying in the background and then Robs voice.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Rob said. “Liam started to cry when I tried to put him down. He woke Simon.
Now they’re both screaming. Hudson’s hiding somewhere—I can’t find him.”

  Caye walked into the dining room, looked at Nathan on the couch with Andrew and Audrey on either side of him. All three were glued to the TV, to a PBS program on sunspots.

  “I’ll be right over,” she said to Rob.

  “Okay,” Nathan said, when she told him what Rob had said, that she was running back over to Jill’s. But she could tell he wasn’t happy.

  “What do you think I should do?” she asked defensively. She felt torn between her family and Jill’s family.

  “Go,” he said. “There’s nothing else to do.”

  “Put the kids to bed, okay? Have Andrew put out his tee ball uniform. Make sure he knows where his cleats are.”

  “Okay.” Nathan turned back to the TV “I’ll be in bed when you get home,” he called out as she hurried out the door.

  She saw Hudson in his pajamas on the porch as she drove up, hunched under the bay window. “Come on, Hudson,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  “I want my mommy.” Hudson inched toward Caye on his haunches.

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t mean for Liam to break his arm.”

  “I know.”

  “I want Mommy.”

  “I know,” Caye said, grabbing his hand. “But it’s not right to scare your daddy. He’s frantic.”

  She opened the door. “Rob, it’s me. And Hudson’s here.” He came out of the kitchen holding both Liam and Simon. The baby clutched his bottle against his chest. “Where was he?”

  “On the porch. Under the window.”

  “Hudson,” Rob said sternly, loudly, “don’t ever do that again.”

  Hudson let go of Caye’s hand and ran toward Rob, swinging his fist at Rob’s thigh.

  “He’s upset about Jill,” Caye said quickly to Rob. “They’re all upset, Rob.” And you, too. “Here, let me take the little guys.”

  Hudson backed off. Rob handed Liam and Simon to Caye both at once. Hudson lunged forward and hit Rob again.

  Liam began to cry.

  “Stop it,” Rob commanded, reaching for Hudson, grabbing him by the arm. “And don’t let Liam fly off the top bunk again either.”