Garden of Dreams

by Leslie Gould

  Caye, even with her full arms, wanted to put her head in her hands. He was doing it all wrong.

  Hudson, with his free hand, hit him again.

  “I said stop it.”

  “I want Mommy,” Hudson replied, slugging Rob in the gut. Rob let out an oof and grabbed Hudson’s other hand. “Stop it.”

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

  “I know.” Rob knelt. Hudson sank into his arms.

  “When’s Mommy coming home?”

  “In a week.” Rob held Hudson tighter. “Do you want to go see her tomorrow—like Liam did tonight?”

  “Liam saw her tonight?” Hudson pulled away, shot an angry look at Liam, and struggled out of Rob’s arms. He spun around and raced up the stairs.

  Rob plopped backward on the floor.

  “I’ll put Simon to bed. You give Liam some children’s Tylenol. It’s in the cupboard by the sink. I’ll check on Hudson.” She passed Liam to Rob. She hoped he knew to read the directions.

  One more week. Caye started up the stairs. And then what?

  I can do all things through Him

  who strengthens me.

  PHILIPPIANS 4:13 (NASB)

  19

  Caye walked in Jill’s garden. The rain had pelted the plants last night. The white bleeding hearts hung low against the ground. A flutter in the wisteria growing high against the brick wall caught Caye’s attention. The tight purple flowers were just beginning to bloom. Two blue jays sat side by side, their black hoods pointed toward the gate. Caye took small, slow steps toward them. Their feathers caught the overcast light in quick shimmers; their talons curled tightly on the gnarly vine.

  She inched closer. Without ever looking at her, they rose gracefully off the wisteria and flew off together. Disappointed, Caye watched them fly above and then beyond the wall, leaving the garden behind.

  She turned back toward the house and stood in the pathway, surveying the ground. In the last two weeks weeds had popped up in the flower beds among the hostas, trillium, and columbine. Blades of grass were poking up between the bricks of the pathway. Caye had intended to pull them before Jill came home from the hospital, since Rob had canceled the gardening service to save money.

  Caye had half an hour before Rob would arrive with Jill. She wanted to change the sheets on Jill’s bed, air out the room, get the boys out of their pajamas. Jill had been adamant about Hudson not going to preschool. Not having to rush out the door with all the kids by 8:50 did make life easier, but Hudson was at loose ends.

  Rita was taking another day off work to help with the kids. Maybe she would do the weeding—or watch the kids so Caye could.

  “There you are,” Rita called out. Scout rushed through the back door.

  “Hi, Rita. I was just looking at all the chores there are to do out here. I’m planning on putting you to work this afternoon.”

  “Don’t trust me with the kids?” Rita asked with a laugh.

  “Actually, my other idea was to escape out here this afternoon while you play another round of superhero with them.”

  Rita laughed again. “How’s Liam?”

  “Fine. He’s learned to use the cast as a weapon. You’ll be impressed with Hudson’s shiner.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No.”

  “Yikes,” Rita said. “Another thing for me to feel guilty about. Jill’s going to banish me.”

  “Hudson deserved it.” Caye stopped. She didn’t want to complain about Hudson, but he was testing them all, and her patience was growing thin. The only person he’d been kind to all week was Andrew. Hudson sulked around the house each day, leaving Audrey at a loss, until Andrew got out of school. Yesterday, when Hudson pinned Liam to the basement floor over a Fisher-Price pirate infraction, Liam whacked Hudson across the face with his cast.

  “Come on, Scout,” Caye called to the dog. He was digging against the brick wall. Scout ignored her. She called again and then, scolding him, walked toward him and grabbed his collar.

  Rita pulled the sides of her sweater together and crossed her arms against the chill.

  “Want a cup of coffee?” Caye asked as she dragged the dog along the pathway. “I’ll start a pot. We can sit down in the kitchen and do some planning for a few minutes. Then I’d better get the kids dressed.”

  A few minutes later Caye and Rita pored over a yellow legal pad. “This is what community is all about,” Rita said as she looked at the list before them. They’d mapped out the next week, signed up Fellowship members for meals, penciled in Caye to be with the kids each day. Rita would come over after work two nights a week to help get the boys to bed. They volunteered Gwen to do the grocery shopping.

  “I’ll call her,” Rita said.

  “I haven’t called Stephanie this week.”

  Rita looked puzzled. “Stephanie?”

  “Jill’s baby-sitter.”

  “I thought they needed to economize.”

  Caye had told Rita that Rob canceled the gardening service and was thinking about canceling the Wednesday morning housekeeping. He was suddenly worried about money. He didn’t say so, but Caye had the feeling his worries were tied to Marion. Again Caye wondered just how much Marion had been contributing to keep Jill’s household going through the years.

  “Well, if I use Stephanie, it will be just for a few hours. I’ll definitely keep her as a backup in case I need to take Jill to the doctor.”

  It was Joya who often talked about community and how it was God’s design. She and Thomas based the concept of the Fellowship on the first-century church.

  On Sunday Joya had thanked the group for their efforts on Jill’s behalf. “This is what it’s all about,” she said. “Letting God use us to take care of each other.”

  They’d met at Jill and Rob’s, although Caye felt eerie being in the house as a group without Jill. Rob was quiet. Thomas taught on Colossians 3, focusing on praising God and being thankful.

  It was Gwen who suggested they pray for Jill’s spiritual healing. “That if she has any unconfessed sin, she would deal with it,” Gwen explained.

  Caye imagined that Joya had been talking to Gwen. “Do you think that’s why she’s sick?” Summer asked.

  “It could be,” Gwen answered.

  Caye thought of Jill’s abortion. That sin had been definitely confessed before God and others. She’d been open with all of them about it. Gwen must be referring to Jill not telling Rob about her family history.

  “Speaking of Job,” Rob said.

  “Pardon?” It was Joya, straining her neck to look at Rob.

  “Job. His friends tried to tell him that his illness was because of sin. God rebuked them.”

  “But, Rob, you were upset that Jill hadn’t told you about her chances of getting sick.”

  “Joya,” Rob answered, “she didn’t know what her chances were. No one did.” He paused. “Do you think she sinned in not telling me?”

  Joya didn’t answer.

  “Well, she told me she was sorry. Does that make you feel better?” “Did she tell God she was sorry?”

  “Was it a sin?”

  Caye smiled at Rob’s defense of Jill. “I think so.” Joya sat back and crossed her arms. “Well, if she confessed it, God doesn’t remember it. Why are you keeping track?”

  Thomas intervened. “Jill is in God’s hands. We must keep praying for her. Praying for her life and healing.” He sounded uncomfortable. And weary. “And we need to keep praying for Rob and the boys, for strength to get through this.”

  “Sunday was weird, wasn’t it?” Rita filled the coffee mugs from the pot.

  Caye nodded. “I was just thinking about it.”

  “I hate it when Gwen speaks Joya’s stuff. The unconfessed-sin bunk. You know she didn’t come up with it on her own.” Rita sat back down. “Joya’s always the one talking about community, but this is
where I find it.”

  “Jill’s the one who creates it,” Caye said matter-of-factly and then took a sip of the coffee. It was too hot.

  “No, not just Jill. You and Jill.”

  Caye furrowed her brow.

  “You don’t believe me? Look at everything you’re doing.”

  “What else would I do?”

  “That’s what makes it so communal. It’s from your heart.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Caye answered. “I just think that’s what makes it easy.” Except for Hudson, poor guy. And Joya and Gwen. She wished they’d lighten up. They had no excuse, unlike four-year-old Hudson, for their bad behavior.

  Rita walked to the sink and started doing the dishes.

  “I’ll go make Jill’s bed,” Caye said, looking at her watch. She had seven minutes until Sesame Street ended.

  As she stripped the sheets, she thought again about the Fellowship women’s getaway. The last evening, after they played on the beach and before their sharing time, Jill and Caye had made a run to the store for ice cream.

  “Let’s pull a prank,” Jill said. “Spice things up a little.”

  “Like?”

  “Something biblical.”

  They strolled down the grocery aisle. Caye pushed the cart. Jill stopped at the Kool-Aid display. She stared at the packages, strumming her index finger against her chin. “I’ve got it! The plagues of Egypt.”

  Thomas had just finished a sermon series on the Israelites’ escape from slavery to freedom.

  “You want Kool-Aid to be one of the plagues?”

  “Yes. Red Kool-Aid in the showerhead for the water that turned to blood. Red dots—we’ll buy a red pen—for the boils. Did you hear the frogs last night? Do you think we could catch some? We can buy a bag of Styrofoam packing pellets for the hail. Do you think that’s enough? Do you think they’ll get the idea?”

  They got the idea. The fun started with a scream from Joya. None of them had ever heard her scream before.

  “Where is she?” Gwen asked, jumping out of bed.

  “Try the bathroom,” Jill answered.

  Gwen got as far as the hall when she noticed the red dots on her forearms. She was the heaviest sleeper and was therefore chosen for the boils.

  “What are these?” Gwen asked in disbelief.

  Wait until she sees her face. Caye had smiled at the thought.

  Summer stumbled out of her bed, sending the Styrofoam that covered her blankets in six directions.

  Rita had made her way into the kitchen. She let out a shriek. “Frogs!” she yelled. “There are frogs in the kettle”

  Gwen knocked on the bathroom door. “Joya. Are you okay?”

  The door opened. Red water was streaming down Joya’s face. She was wrapped in a white towel.

  “What happened to your face?” Joya asked Gwen.

  Gwen made her way to the mirror. Summer came stumbling down the hall with the Styrofoam stuck to her flannel pajamas. Rita poked her head out of the kitchen. She had a frog in her hand. “Look.”

  Jill snickered. Joya looked at her with a straight face, not even a frown. “The plagues of Egypt. Right? Very good, Jill. And Caye, I presume. Thomas would find it very clever.”

  “I get dibs on the shower next,” Gwen said as she came out of the bathroom. Joya firmly closed the door.

  “I hate pranks,” Gwen added on her way to the sleeping room.

  She didn’t know how much until it was her turn to use the shower. Jill had—inadvertently, she swore—picked out a red permanent marker.

  Caye folded the last corner of the sheet and flung the comforter over the top. She smiled at the memory of the prank, but also because she finally felt a measure of happiness after days of turmoil.

  Jill was coming home. The doctor said that she was healing well. She was gaining strength. It was obvious she was determined to beat the cancer.

  Caye placed the pillows in position.

  She felt such relief. The first hurdle had been crossed. Jill was coming home.

  Jill walked slowly up the front steps with Rob.

  “She’s here!” It was Rita’s voice. She opened the front door; Jill could hear the children thundering down the stairs from the boys’ bedroom.

  “Mommy!” Hudson and Liam yelled, slamming out the screen door.

  Caye came in from the kitchen carrying Simon.

  “Hey, guys,” Jill said, taking off her sunglasses. She walked slowly through the door, stopping to rest with one hand on the back of the couch. “Hudson, look at your eye. Daddy told me you took a hit.”

  Hudson smiled and then jabbed his finger into Liam’s side. “He did it.”

  “So I heard.”

  Liam grabbed the leg of Jill’s sweatpants and started jumping up and down.

  “Careful,” Rob said. “Don’t hurt Mommy,”

  “Your bed’s ready,” Caye said, “if you want to go rest. Rita and I were just going to feed the troops.”

  “Thanks.” Jill started to walk again. She reached for Simon’s fat little leg, squeezed it quickly, and then took Caye’s hand.

  “How are you?” Caye asked.

  “Okay. Just tired. I’ll go nap a little and then hang out with the boys. Oh, Rita. There you are. I heard your voice but didn’t see you.” Rita had taken a spot by the staircase.

  “Hi, doll.”

  “Why are you here? To see my homecoming?” Rita smiled and nodded her head.

  And to help with my rowdy boys. Jill’s medication was wearing off. She needed to take a pill, lie down, regroup. She shivered. All week when she had thought about leaving the hospital, she imagined a gorgeous day, warm, and bright. She would go home. It would be warm and sunny. She would start to heal.

  It was dreary and cold. Even with her fleece on over her sweatshirt she couldn’t stay warm.

  Still, she was home, and after a week in the hospital, after talking with Dr. Scott again yesterday, she was counting on being healed. “There’s no way to call this,” he had said. “We’ll start the chemotherapy next week since your incision is healing so quickly—radiation, if all looks well, the week after. There’s no reason not to be hopeful.”

  “We’ll beat this,” Rob said.

  Jill had smiled at Dr. Scott. He smiled back, his gray eyes twinkling behind his smudged glasses. She thought of his pregnant wife and two children at home. He shook their hands fervently before he left, first Jill’s, then Rob’s, as if they’d just sealed a deal to make her well.

  “It’s so hard to understand,” Rita said. “Why Jill? Why someone who lights up a room? Not just a room, a whole house, a whole community?

  Caye and Rita sat on the steps of the front porch and watched Hudson and Audrey ride their bikes up and down the sidewalk. Liam and Simon were down for their naps. Caye would leave to pick up Andrew in a few minutes.

  Both Rita and Caye had their hands wrapped around their coffee mugs.

  “It’s too late in the spring for this cold weather,” Caye complained.

  “Every time I see someone smoking I think, why not them?” Rita said, ignoring Caye. “Isn’t that awful?”

  Caye leaned against Rita, giving in to the conversation. She’d wanted to distract Rita into talking about the weather. She didn’t want to think about “Why Jill?” The absence of answers made her too sad.

  “I even think that about myself.”

  “What?” Caye asked.

  “Look at me. I haven’t exactly taken good care of myself. I’m overweight. I don’t exercise. Why would this happen to Jill instead of someone like me?”

  “Rita,” Caye whispered, “it doesn’t work that way.”

  “I wish it were happening to me instead of her.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “My kids are grown. Hers are just babies. How could it be God’s will for her to be so sick?”

 
“I don’t think it is God’s will.”

  “He’s letting it happen.” Rita took a sip of coffee.

  Caye took a deep breath.

  “I know, I know,” Rita said. “It’s not his perfect will, it’s his allowed will. Blah-blah-blah. Whatever. He could’ve stopped it.”

  Caye put her coffee cup on the step beside her and put both arms around Rita. The older woman began to cry. They sat for a moment until Rita pulled away and retrieved a tissue from her sweater pocket. Caye rubbed one hand over her friend’s back while Rita dabbed at her eyes.

  They both looked up at the sound of car doors slamming. It was Joya and Thomas.

  The snake crawled across her stomach, up her arms, over her chin. “Jill.”

  She heard Caye’s voice; Caye would make the snake go away. “Jill. Joya and Thomas are here.”

  Jill turned her head toward the doorway, toward Caye. It had been several days since she’d had the snake dream. She’d hoped it was gone for good, left behind at the hospital, but it had followed her home.

  Caye stood next to the bed. “Do you feel up to seeing them?” she asked quietly.

  “Give me a minute. I’ll get up.”

  “Want some help?”

  “Thanks.” Jill sat on the edge of the bed. Caye took Jill’s slippers from the closet and positioned them under her feet.

  “Is Sunday Mother’s Day?” Jill asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought so. It feels like May is halfway over, and I’ve missed it. It’s my favorite time. Mother’s Day. Liam’s birthday. Then Simon and Hudson’s birthdays in June. All the flowers.”

  Caye helped Jill stand.

  “The warm days. But not today. It’s so cold.”

  “It’s starting to warm up,” Caye said. “Audrey and Hudson are playing outside. Hudson’s doing better this afternoon.”

  “I keep wanting to dream about flowers, about my garden. Instead I keep having nightmares about snakes.”

  They walked down the hall together and into the living room.

  Thomas looked tired, befuddled. His eyes were cast down when they walked into the room. Jill saw a spark of interest in his eyes when he looked up.