“It’s so hard.” Nothing I could say right now would help. Jesus, please comfort my friend.
Pastor Brian rested a hand on Karen’s shoulder. The ambulance finally pulled away, dragging our gaze with it.
“I still can’t believe this. I’ll miss her so much.” Karen watched the ambulance turn the corner, then slung her purse over her shoulder and straightened her back. I could almost see her mentally regrouping, facing the everyday realities of life even in the midst of her shock. “I’ve got to rescue Mary Jane from the twins. I’m already late and she’ll be having a fit by now.”
Mary Jane, Karen’s mother-in-law, could only take the twins—two sets of them—for so long. I could understand. Even one set of twins would finish me off in under an hour.
“Wouldn’t she keep them for you a little longer today, given the circumstances?” I asked.
“She probably would. But I need to see them and hug them.”
I had never been a parent, but I appreciated her need to hold tight to her loved ones who remained.
Pastor Brian offered both Karen and me a brief side-hug. “Sondra and I will be praying for you and your family, Karen. Do you want me to send out a church-wide email to let everyone know today? Or wait until tomorrow when you’ve had a little time?”
“I can’t even think right now.” Her phone beeped, and she pulled it out of her purse. “It’s Justin, Pastor. Please do whatever y’all usually do in situations like this. I need to run.”
Karen’s husband, Justin, would step in and take care of things, I knew. I admired Justin Kimbrough. He was the strong, protective, capable husband mine never had been. But that was in the past. And this wasn’t about me, anyway. My friend needed me.
“I’ll check on her later,” I said to Pastor Brian.
He nodded, his hand on his car door. “Losing Sister Erma will leave a big hole in our little congregation. You’re planning to break the news to Dot?”
My heart sank. “I’ll head over there now. I’d rather she hears it from me than through an email.” I so wished Todd had not chosen this week to be out of town. I sure could use his steady presence right now.
Annie and I jogged home, ignoring the flashes of lightning. “I wish it would just rain if it’s going to.” I opened the front door. Annie pushed past me to check on the pugs. Two black faces stared up at her groggily as she licked their flat little noses, their ears, and their eyes.
I left the dogs in the kitchen while I went to get ready for the day. I changed out of my sweats, French-braided my hair, and swiped a little mascara on so my eyes would at least show up behind my glasses. Done. But what would I tell Aunt Dot? Strange how life can change so dramatically in one day.
I drove the couple of blocks to my shop, C. Willikers, and left a “Back Soon” sticky note on the front door. Nothing like living in a small town. I prayed as I drove the mile or so to Willowbough, the adult retirement center where my auntie lived. My aunt was a spunky gal, as her beau, Harry, liked to say. And sharp. She still wrote a weekly advice column for the Short Creek Star newspaper. And she was closer to the Lord than anyone else I had ever known. But I knew how much she loved Sister Erma. This would be hard.
Aunt Dot lived her own apartment in the assisted-living part of the main facility, though if Harry had his way, she would soon marry him and join him in his apartment across the campus. Who would have thought my aunt would have a boyfriend when she was in her eighties? It was very cute, the way they held hands and flirted with each other like teenagers. I was glad she’d have Harry to lean on in this hard time.
I wandered down the quiet hallway to Aunt Dot’s room, still trying to think of what to say. When I reached her door, I paused, listening. She was singing one of her favorite hymns, “In the Garden,” her sweet, high voice quavering. My throat tightened, and I sank into the vinyl chair outside her room. I could wait while she spent time with Jesus.
Glad for a few minutes to gather myself, I glanced around. I knew most of the staff by now, but everyone must have been busy, because the hallway was quiet. The door to the room directly across from me stood open, and I could hear the low rumble of a man’s voice. I wasn’t really being nosy, but the last few times I had been here to visit Aunt Dot, that room had been vacant. I wondered idly if the new resident was someone I knew. After all, Short Creek was a pretty small town, population 1103, to be exact. A far cry from the huge suburb of Columbus, Ohio, from where I had moved a couple of years ago.
I fidgeted in the chair, wishing I had brought my knitting bag with me. I wanted to talk to Todd, but I knew he was in meetings all day. Some kind of annual training for the sheriff’s department. It had only been since last summer when we had muddled through the thing with our friend Houston that Todd had decided he was ready to re-join the law enforcement community. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I rose and stepped to Aunt Dot’s closed door again, listening.
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?”
Chapter Two
I jumped and turned toward the voice.
A tall, pale wisp of a man stood clinging to the doorway of the room across the hallway. He glared at me. “What are you doing here?” he asked again.
I smiled and took a step toward him. “I’m Dot’s niece. Callie Erickson. I—”
“No, you’re not.” He spat on the floor, then pinned me with a steely gaze. “I know who you are.”
Oh, dear. I raised my eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Mr.—”
“Don’t act so innocent, Mabel. I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play, but I won’t stand for it.” He swiped at his nose with a crumpled handkerchief.
What? I almost laughed, but the man was dead serious. “Okay, sir.” I backed away, feeling for Dot’s door knob. “I’m leaving now.”
He pointed at me, watery blue eyes piercing mine, his hand trembling violently. “And don’t come back, you hear me? It’s too late. I never want to see your face again.”
Yikes. “Yes, sir. I’ll—” I started to say, “I’ll see you later,” but apparently that wouldn’t be the right thing to say at this moment. I grimaced, then waved at him and slipped through Aunt Dot’s door. I could hear him muttering as the door closed behind me.
“Callie. What’s wrong, darlin’?” Aunt Dot turned her wheelchair toward me, searched my face with her hazel eyes, then held her arms open for a hug.
I bent to embrace her thin form, breathing in her familiar scent. Her soft silvery hair brushed against my cheek. Aunt Dot had always been like a grandmother to me, and today I held onto her a little longer than usual. “Erma…” I whispered against her shoulder.
She rubbed my back as she always had when I had run to her with a skinned knee, or a mean teacher…or a broken heart. How could I tell her about her friend?
She pulled away to look me in the eye. “Erma’s gone home, hasn’t she?”
I nodded. “This morning, early.”
“I knew it.” She squeezed both of my hands tightly like she always did when she had something extra important to say. Tears stood in her eyes. “I knew it would be soon. But I surely will miss her. She’s always been closer to me than my sisters.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
She released my hands and leaned back in her wheelchair. “Do you know what happened?”
“Karen said probably a heart attack.”
“I suppose Pastor Brian knows?”
“Yes. Karen must have called or texted him. He got there about the same time I did, but it was already over with. We didn’t see her.”
A pained expression crossed her face. “Todd was there, I hope?”
“No, unfortunately. He’s still in Dallas for a day or two for a police academy training thing.”
“Oh, I knew that.” She looked past me to the window, and we both sat in silence, listening to the rain.
She sighed after a long time. “One more loved one waiting for me in Heaven. Sometimes it seems like more of th
em are in heaven now than are left on Earth.”
I suppose it would start to feel that way when one was eighty-three. “You still have me,” I said softly. “And Jason. And Harry.”
She smiled at me then, and I caught a glimpse of her usual sparkle. “I know it. God has blessed me with all y’all. But I can’t help being a little envious of Erma.”
“Auntie.” I wasn’t ready for that. “You have a lot of years left.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You should know that by now, sugar.” She rubbed the spot on her finger where her wedding ring had always been, even twenty years after Uncle Garth passed away. It was only recently, since she and Harry Parsons had begun a relationship, that she had put her ring away for good.
I could only hope and pray that maybe someday I’d have a marriage like that. My marriage had not been the best and had ended tragically. It had taken me a long time to heal enough to even consider a new relationship, but then God brought Todd Whitney into my life. We were nowhere near ready to get married yet, though.
I sighed. “Well, if your new neighbor across the hall had anything to say about it, I’d have been a goner a long time ago.”
Aunt Dot chuckled. “I take it you met Kenny.”
“‘Met’ would be a kind word for it. More like ‘encountered’ or ‘ran away from’.”
“He’s not always in his right mind, Callie.”
“Obviously.”
“I’ve known him my whole life. He and I were in the same class at school as Erma. We were the only three who attended the school here in Short Creek all twelve grades. Even got a fancy certificate at graduation.”
“He called me Mabel.”
“Maple, not Mabel.” Aunt Dot picked up her knitting and laid it in her lap. “That was his daughter.”
Was? “Ah. Apparently, they didn’t have a great relationship.”
“I don’t know the whole story.”
“But?”
“But something happened with the daughter, and she left. Moved out of state somewhere.” She squinted at me. “I guess you do resemble her somewhat. She was tall and thin like you. But she’s probably twice your age.”
“Well, I’ll try to stay out of his way.” I stood, glancing at my phone. I’d felt it vibrating at least twice while I was talking with Aunt Dot. I hated to leave her, but I was already an hour late opening the shop this morning. And now, with a funeral coming up, I’d need to place my flower orders today, so I’d have enough for the coming week. Maybe Aunt Dot would enjoy coming to the store with me this morning.
Except that it required quite a feat to get Aunt Dot out these days. Mostly because she insisted on making sure that her hair, always elegantly styled in a long bob, looked perfect. And of course, she had to be dressed in her “best” and locate the purse that exactly matched her shoes. But she loved outings, and she particularly enjoyed “helping” my customers at the store. She could talk poetry, theology, and gardening like nobody’s business, all the while knitting half a sweater.
“Do you want to come with me? Get your mind off things?”
“No, I think I feel like being alone for a little while,” she said.
“Are you sure? Is Harry around today?”
I knew she would be okay, but I didn’t like to leave her by herself to deal with the passing of her friend. On the other hand, I did remember what it felt like to want to be alone with my grief.
“Yes, he’s playing in the chess tournament today, then he’ll be by. We’ll have lunch together at his place.”
Chess tournament? “Okay. You’ll be all right by yourself until then?”
“I’m never alone.” She reached for my hand. “I planned to work on the newspaper column today, but I don’t think I’m up to that on Erma’s homegoing day.
An hour later, I slumped against the cushions of the worn leather couch in the book nook at C. Willikers and groaned. Annie, stretched out on the floor in front of me, lifted her head to see what was wrong.
“I’m okay, pretty girl,” I said.
She laid her head back down with a sigh, her tags clinking against the wood floor.
I slipped my shoes off and rubbed one stockinged foot down her long tail.
I texted Todd: I miss you. Call me when you can.
I stared at the phone for a moment, hoping I had caught him at a good time and he’d call me right this second. He didn’t. I laid the phone on the arm of the loveseat. I should be working. Or praying for Karen and her family. But I felt numb. How could Sister Erma be so fully alive yesterday morning, and today she was walking the streets of gold?
I envied her. No more pain, no more sorrow. And she was eighty-three, after all. That’s a good, long time to live.
I sighed. It was one of those rainy, overcast winter days in Central Texas that always made me sleepy. Even the pugs, Purl and Intarsia, lay snoring on their little stripy rug in front of the African violet display, totally oblivious to the rain pounding against the shop windows. Of course, pugs snoring was not an unusual event.
After the crazy events of the last two mornings, I should be grateful for a slow afternoon. And it was really slow. Not even one customer since I rushed over from Willowbough earlier. People down here in Central Texas were not fond of gadding about in the rain. Even church attendance was down on rainy Sundays.
“I suppose I should finish up the Spring Fling arrangements since the event is tomorrow,” I murmured. Annie picked up her head again.
I rose reluctantly from the loveseat in the book nook and headed toward my workstation near the front of my small store. Annie followed me. When I had first opened my own florist/yarn shop/bookstore, C. Willikers, a couple of years ago, I had envisioned it looking like it did now—cozy and inviting, with plants blooming everywhere, shelves and shelves of lovely yarn, and of course, the books. I wondered idly what my dad would think of my little store. My parents were missionaries in Zambia and had only seen pictures of my life here in Texas. For sure Dad would approve of my book selection, even if he thought everything else was a waste of time.
I especially loved my collection of vintage C.S. Lewis books, along with the lovely poetry volumes of Emily Dickinson, Christina Rossetti and Gerard Manley Hopkins. And of course, Aunt Dot’s copy of The Pilgrim’s Progress that had caused so much angst last summer.
I filled my electric tea kettle and switched it on, then selected two mugs from under the counter. Mona, my best friend, should be stopping by soon for our standing Tuesday lunch date. Since we both usually brown-bagged it for lunch, we had begun the habit of eating together at the store at least once a week.
Mona always used the Colorado mug, mainly because her nephew lived in Denver, and she said the mountain scene on the mug was the closest she was ever going to get to visiting him. My favorite mug was the floral one Todd had given me in the midst of all of the craziness when we were trying to figure out who was behind a murder that had happened right on my doorstep. Literally. I held the mug and read the scripture on it again: “Be still and know that I am God.”
I’m not sure how many times I had read that scripture, but it always had the intended effect. Some days it was so much easier to be still than other days. So much easier to remember that God was in control, and I didn’t need to stagger around with the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I’m trying, Lord. I know You know all things, but I—
“Mail delivery!” Mona swept in through the front door, water pouring off her enormous yellow umbrella onto the startled pugs. They blinked up at her, and she set her umbrella down before lowering her generous figure to bestow a kiss on each of their wrinkly foreheads. “Sorry, little darlin’s.” She stood with a grunt and fluffed her graying hair, leaving it more spiked than usual. “That rain!” She dug through her large woven handbag, bracelets jangling, and pulled out a handful of envelopes. She held them out to me. “Sylvia stuck your mail into the church mail box again.”
Mona worked as the receptionist at the church next door, and
it seemed that our new mail lady, Sylvia Woodley, hadn’t quite gotten the hang of things yet. This was the third time this week Sylvia had delivered my store’s mail to the church. Not that I received much mail, but still.
“Thanks.” I took the small stack from Mona and laid it on the counter. “We need to pray for Karen. Sister Erma passed away this morning.”
Mona straightened up from petting Annie, her hand still on the dog’s head. Her brown eyes widened. “Oh, no. I saw Erma yesterday at the grocery store, and she was happy as a hog. Gave me the whole rundown about Karen and the twins takin’ her shopping in Fredericksburg last weekend. What happened?”
“They don’t know. Karen said the EMTs told her it was probably a heart attack. Todd’s out of town. Otherwise he probably would have been on duty this morning, and I would know more about it.”
Mona’s eyes filled with tears as she walked over to the counter and hoisted herself up onto one of the stools. “Poor Karen. I know she’ll miss her grandmama like nobody’s business.”
“And it was so sudden.”
“Sudden is the best way to go.” Mona fished a crumpled tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “But not for the ones left here.”
I nodded. “I know Karen was especially close to her too, since Erma was her only family nearby.” The water in the kettle was boiling furiously. I switched the thing off, then poured water into both mugs.
We sat in silence for a moment, my usually ebullient friend quiet. Most days, she talked circles around me and then some.
She dunked her tea bag up and down in the hot water, then stopped. “I’m going to make Karen a pan of lasagna. A big ol’ pan of it.” She sniffed loudly.
“I’m sure she’ll love that.” Mona’s extra-cheesy lasagna could cheer anyone up. “I suppose I should order more gladiolas. Making funeral arrangements isn’t my favorite thing. Particularly for someone I know.”
Mona dumped two days’ worth of sugar into her tea. “At least we know where she is.”
Where There's a Will Page 2
