“But we…” Now what?
The envelope. Was this the kind of emergency Corinne intended? “Excuse me a moment.” She dug the envelope out of her bag and stepped into the brighter light in the kitchen. She ripped open the envelope with her thumb and pulled out a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was a bit shaky but legible and clear.
Dear Dinah,
If you are reading this, I am either dying or gone home. Please do not call 911. There is nothing they can do but put me on machines to prolong a life that will not recover. My prayer is that I will slip away with as little fuss as possible. A file in my bottom dresser drawer has all the legalities, my will, all the necessary papers. Our lawyer is handling all that. I gave a letter like this to Trudy too and included your phone number in it.
Dinah, I am not afraid to die. I know I am going home to be with my Lord and I already know He is waiting for me. But Jonah will be left behind and that is the hard part. I prayed for someone to come into our lives who could love and care for my son. His father wanted to but he could do nothing but provide this home for us. Trudy is too old and her daughter cannot take Jonah either.
There is no one else I can ask. There will be some money for Jonah from the sale of this condo. The deed is in the file. The lawyer will handle that also. He promised to take care of any other problems, his number is below.
Will you please accept this gift of my heart? I know you will love him and he already loves you. He needs you. He is so small yet.
Dinah dug in her bag for a packet of tissues to mop the tears raining down her face. She blew her nose and dried her eyes so she could see clearly. She could hear Jonah talking to his mother.
I do not want him to become a ward of the court and go into fosterage, which is what will happen if you cannot see your way clear to adopt him. I had wanted to talk this over with you but it appears we were not given the time to do that. I cannot thank you enough for loving Jonah.
Corinne Morgan
Dinah laid the letter down and stared at the wall, where a framed painting, more an abstract than a photographic depiction, hung. The colors were vibrant like the scarves she wore, full of warmth and happiness, rippled and blended, seeming to move like a peaceful sea. Never still but always alive.
“Daddy painted that before he left.”
She looked down to see Jonah at her side and Mutt, too. “He’s an amazing artist.”
“He taught me to draw.”
“Your mommy told me that. She said you’re a lot like him.”
She returned to the bedroom, Jonah at her side. Light from the lamp by the bed lent a soft glow.
Jonah leaned against her. “Mommy likes you a whole lot. She said you made friends with me when you didn’t have to. Me and Mutt. She really liked that. She said don’t look at what people say, look at what they do. She said you would take care of me.”
Oh she did, did she. Dinah perched on the edge of the bed and scooped up Corinne’s other hand, clasping it in both hers. “Corinne, I’ve never married, never had kids, never took care of kids. I know nothing about kids. Nothing about giving Jonah what he needs. I don’t think—”
The feeble hand squeezed hers.
“Corinne…are you sure I—”
Another feeble squeeze.
Dinah blotted away tears. Why wasn’t Jonah weeping?
Peace like a river attendeth my soul. The hymn leaped into Dinah’s head unbidden. Gramma Grace’s favorite hymn. The smile on Corinne’s face, the serenity. How could life leave like this? But it did. It had, all those years before. Then, she’d watched the dearest persons in her world stop breathing and be gone. Michael Junior. Then Gramma Grace.
Please, Corinne, not now! Not while Jonah is watching. Believe me; I know. Not now!
“Mommy?” Jonah was carefully watching his mother’s face.
No squeeze. Corinne had joined Michael and Gramma Grace.
Jonah laid the flaccid hand on her abdomen. “Mommy looks happy.”
“She does. She—she…” Words disappeared, all of them. Dinah laid the other hand on the body.
“She went to be with Jesus. She explained it all to me so I wouldn’t be scared. She said she was going to go soon, but she didn’t know exactly when. She said Jesus would take her when He got everything ready. I think He’s ready because she didn’t squeeze my hand.” He looked up at Dinah. “It’s now, right? She’s happy up there with Jesus now?”
“That’s right.” Dinah Marie Taylor, how can you lie like that? To ease the mind of a small child who just lost his whole world and doesn’t even realize it yet. That’s how. And she would lie again if need be.
“And now I’m going to live with you.”
“Yes. Apparently. Would you like to gather your things?” What else could she say?
There had been nothing she could do then and nothing she could do now.
Rob. Gramma Grace. Corinne Morgan. Good people. So unjust. So cruel.
And a kid. A strange little kid. Corinne had prepared him as well as can be expected, but nobody had bothered to prepare Dinah. Now here he was in her lap, under her wing.
She wasn’t even certain she knew how to love. Care, yes. She cared about Hal, about her employees. But love? What was that, exactly?
While he fetched his backpack and plopped it on the bed, she retrieved the brown accordion file from the otherwise empty drawer and carried it out to the kitchen table. She sat. Corinne had left another note, this one taped to the front of the file.
Just follow the instructions, she ordered herself. You do not have to think.
Please do not call 911. Take Jonah and Mutt home with you and call this number. My attorney will take care of all the details. He will see to emptying the apartment and bringing you Jonah’s things.
She picked up the phone. A man’s voice answered on the fifth ring.
“I’m sorry about the hour. My name is Dinah Tay—”
“Corinne died.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.” She hung up, utterly amazed at how swiftly that exchange had taken place. Dinah shook her head. Surely this was a dream. Surreal. And she would wake up soon.
She leafed briefly through the file, closed it, and laid it on top of her hobo bag so she would not forget it. She returned to the bedroom. Jonah was struggling to stuff some things into a faded duffle bag. She perched on his bed, the duffle between them, to help. “We still have to call nine-one-one. Here. You hold it open, I’ll stuff.”
“Mommy doesn’t want us to.” He held the duffle’s jaws wide as she forced things into the corners, the ends. Then he let her zip it while he snapped a leash onto Mutt’s collar.
The present tense. He was referring to his mother in the present tense. Perhaps that was a key to his peace of mind. Not dead. Transformed. Or temporarily gone. Sorrow was engulfing Dinah, and she hardly knew Corinne. When would sorrow strike this child? All she could think to do was keep him busy.
“No, but the law requires it. We’ll wait until the lawyer arrives. He’s on his way. He can explain exactly what we should do.”
That’s it, Dinah. Pass the buck. You who take responsibility for a whole company cannot bear to take the simple, basic responsibility to call 911. What is wrong with you?
“Wait. We need the dog food. I’ll get it.” He ran out to the kitchen and returned with a nearly empty bag of kibbles for a mature dog. He juggled it into the crook of his arm, hauled his duffle bag off the ground, and nodded. “Wait.” He put them all down. “Mutt’s dish.” He went back to the kitchen and returned with a dog dish greatly in need of washing.
Dinah raised a hand. “Let’s stop and regroup here. Take your backpack to the bathroom and get all the stuff you’d take if you were going on a trip. Like you’d be staying overnight in a hotel.”
“I never went on a trip. Or stayed in a hotel.”
“Oh. Toothbrush, toothpaste. Hairbrush. Comb. Favorite soap or shampoo?”
&nbs
p; “I wash my hair with dish soap. Mommy says it does a better job.” There it was again, the present tense. He obviously didn’t realize…
“Ah. Then bring the dish soap.” Keep stalling, Dinah. Keep him busy until the lawyer gets here. She carried his duffle, the dog dish, and everything out to the kitchen, putting them down by the table.
He returned with a worn toothbrush sticking out of his backpack’s side pocket. He brought the foaming dish soap over from the sink. “It won’t fit, I don’t think.”
“Any grocery bags in the closet?”
He went back, returned with a plastic bag. They put the jug of soap in that.
School. Kids have school stuff. “How about notebooks, school things, homework? Got all that?”
That burned up another few minutes. Too few. He put his school things into the plastic bag and stacked it beside his duffle.
“How about stuff to draw with? Got all that?”
He nodded. “It’s mostly at school. Wait. My extra pencils.” He left and presently returned.
“Favorite toys, books?”
“No. Wait. You mean my bear?”
“Sure.”
He was headed for the bedroom when the door rattled and burst open.
Dinah jumped and yelped.
A large man, a very large man, with a neck like a tree trunk, entered.
Jonah paused; then said casually, “Hi, Mr. Jensen.” He continued to his bedroom.
The man’s build matched his deep male voice. “Sorry I startled you, Dr. Taylor. Lars Jensen. We spoke earlier.” He extended his hand.
Dinah rose and was rather embarrassed to see that her own hand was shaking. She took his in a business-type grip. “Thank you for hurrying.”
The man didn’t smile, but he managed to look fairly pleasant anyway. “I was afraid this would happen sometime soon. How is Jonah doing?”
“He is handling this far better than I am.”
“Corinne prepared him remarkably well.”
Dinah sat down again. “I’m afraid she didn’t prepare me. She gave me a letter, but we didn’t talk—Couldn’t this Grammy Trudy take him?”
He sat also. “Trudy is an elderly neighbor, no blood relation. Her health will not permit her to raise a child this young, and her daughter has a difficult special-needs child and can’t take on Jonah as well. We all felt it would not be in Jonah’s best interests for her to take him.”
“But a total stranger is just fine.”
The huge man smiled slightly. “I did a background check on you, Dr. Taylor. You’re not a total stranger. Your business acumen is demonstrated by your financial statement, charitable giving, the obvious happiness and confidence of your employees, the mission statement on your company’s Website. And they all attest to your strong moral character.”
She sighed. “Jonah already mentioned, ‘Don’t look at what people say, look at what they do.’”
The smile loosened, spread a little. He sat forward, both elbows on the table between them. “One of Corinne’s favorite lines, and mine, too. Corinne and I agreed it will be difficult for you in that you would be a single parent with no experience. We’re hoping that if you can pilot a company as complex as Food for Life, you can handle this job, too.”
“What are my choices?”
“I’m hoping you can take him in temporarily, at least, so that he has a roof over his head. In the longer term, you could at any time tell me that there is no way you can handle a seven-year-old boy and a dog and that I should come and get him immediately. What we hope most of all is that he not fall into the morass of Social Services. He’s a gifted child, a very special child, and fosterage in this area is very poor.”
“Right now I believe I am in a state of shock and…” And what? She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “You are sure all the legalities are satisfied? What if his father…”
“As far as we know, his father died two years ago. Jonah has no one who will rise up out of the woodwork to claim him.”
“And you will now notify, notify…”
“I already have. EMS is on the way.”
“Will they try to—bring her back to life?”
“No. Her condition is known and her death was expected at any time. No heroics.”
Jonah came out with his backpack on. He picked up Mutt’s leash and looked at Dinah.
She studied Jonah a moment, turned, and studied Mr. Jensen.
He grimaced and nodded slightly toward Jonah. “It hasn’t sunk in yet. It will.”
There was polite knock on the door and a young man in midnight blue shirt and trousers entered. He carried a red duffle.
Jonah shook his head. “Mommy doesn’t want them to come. She said.”
Dinah tried to smile and failed. “It’s the law, Jonah. But Mr. Jensen will take over now. It’s all right.”
A second technician entered, a young woman, pushing a gurney ahead of her. Jonah scowled. Mr. Jensen followed them into the bedroom. And here came what was probably the medical examiner or someone similar, an older woman, very thin, with a clipboard.
“Mommy doesn’t want them to…” Jonah’s voice trailed off.
“Mr. Jensen will take care of it. It’s okay.”
Presently, the lawyer came back to the kitchen. “You can go now. We have it covered.”
Dinah understood he was talking about the corpse as well as the situation. She stood up, incredibly weary. “Got everything?”
Jonah nodded and picked up Mutt’s leash. They walked to the car, put his things in the trunk, and climbed in. The sky was lighter, not from just the lights of the city. She checked the clock on the dash. Nearly five a.m. She garaged the car and they trundled up to her apartment, the kibble under her arm so that he could negotiate the stairs more easily.
Dinah nearly choked. Today was Friday. The day of the interview. The interview that could make or break her whole world. Don’t be overly dramatic, another side of her intoned. The world will not stop because of an interview.
She kept her outer self in check, acting calm. Inside she screamed. Not fair. Taking a small boy’s mother! What kind of a God are You, anyway? What happened to grace and mercy? That’s what You say, but that’s not what You do! Just leave me alone. And I’ll leave You alone. Not fair!
Chapter Thirteen
Mutt has to go out.”
Dinah turned from her computer and stared at Jonah. “I thought you were still sleeping.” She hadn’t bothered to try. Tired as she was, she had too much going on to let her rest.
“I was, but Mutt has to go out, and I…”
Dinah nodded, thinking fast. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go down to the ground floor and out the rear door.” All the while she was thinking, What did the other dog owners in this building do? Did dogs need a grassy spot? “Will that work?”
“I guess. That’s what we did at home.”
“Let me get my keys. By the way, you need a key for the elevator here.”
“Don’t the stairs work?”
“Sure. But Mutt has a hard time with stairs right now, right?”
He nodded.
“Get your jacket.”
He gave her a Jonah version of a rolled-eyes look. “It’s by the door.”
On the main level, they followed the hall to the rear door and stepped outside. The sun hadn’t bothered to come out yet today, because of the rain. And the cold. Winter had returned with a snarl.
Jonah’s windbreaker didn’t do any more than break the wind. He and Mutt walked a couple of paces, she stepped off the concrete walk, did her business, and hurried back to the door, where Dinah had held it slightly open.
“Is that the only jacket you have?”
“With me.”
“You have a heavier one at home, er…”
He nodded. “I like this one better.”
“How about I buy you another Kansas City Royals jacket that’s warmer?”
He shrugged.
Horace Watson stepped out
his apartment door. “I see you have a visitor, Ms. Taylor.”
“I do. Jonah Morgan, I want you to meet Mr. Watson, our building manager. If you ever need help, he’s the one you call.” She smiled at the man with a fringe on top.
“I see you like Kansas City Royals.”
Jonah nodded. “My daddy liked them best.”
“Well, I do, too. You ever been to one of their games?”
A head shake. “I sometimes watch the games on television. Do you really take care of this whole building?”
“I do.”
“And the elevator always works?”
Dinah shrugged at the man’s questioning look. “It often didn’t where he lived before.”
“I make sure the elevator always works. You can count on it.”
Jonah nodded as he looked up at the man. “Do you have a dog?”
“No, my two cats would be highly incensed.”
“You mean they don’t like dogs.”
“They really don’t like dogs. They sit in the window and yeoowl at any dog who passes by. In fact, if I pet your dog…”
“Her name is Mutt.”
Mr. Watson nodded. “If I pet Mutt, my two cats will give me a good sniff test and then hiss.”
“Really?”
“Really. Cats are real smart.”
Jonah shrugged. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Six fifty-five. Why?”
“I gotta get ready for school. Nice to meet you.” Jonah turned toward the elevator and Dinah followed. How was she going to handle this? That led to another question. What would she tell his school? If she was lucky, Corinne would have thought of that, too.
“Jonah, don’t you think it would be a good idea to stay home from school today?”
“Why?”
“Well…” Because your mother died last night and you are living in a new place and nothing is the same.
“Mommy isn’t here to write a note for me.”
“But, Jonah.” The elevator door slid open.
“Besides, I have a spelling test today.”
Heaven Sent Rain Page 10
