“James is exaggerating,” Elena said. “I just can’t understand why Penny Risser thinks she can lord it over us.”
Although Elena was approaching her late forties, she had the energy and spark of a teenager, always full of ideas and willing to do anything for her friends.
“She has to keep Varner’s confidences,” James said in a reasonable voice. “After all, he is her boss.”
“That doesn’t make her my boss,” Elena said heatedly. “It was just plain ridiculous of her to tell us that there’s going to be a big announcement soon, then refuse to say what it involves. Maybe the hospital board is going to try to cut our salaries again, or even worse, lay people off.”
“You don’t know that,” James said in a calm voice, even though his expression gave away his agitation.
“When is this big announcement coming?” Candace asked, sitting on the couch, momentarily forgetting about her lunch.
“Who can say?” Elena said. “Risser told us just enough to make me worry.”
“Don’t worry until there’s something to worry about,” James said philosophically.
“Maybe it won’t affect us at all,” Candace said hopefully, although she couldn’t imagine why Penny would deliberately hint at something big if she wasn’t supposed to talk about it.
“You sound like my husband,” Elena said, flashing one of her brilliant smiles. “Don’t worry today about tomorrow.”
Candace had thought more than once that Elena could have been a fashion model with her long, slender body, lovely caramel skin, dark eyes and lustrous dark brown hair. Fortunately, she loved her work in Intensive Care, and patients greatly appreciated her kind, efficient ways. It still warmed Candace’s heart to know that Elena had recently renewed her relationship with God and was working hard to understand what the Bible had to teach. She often wished that her own faith was fresh and vibrant again, unaffected by her husband’s death.
Just then, Anabelle Scott, a nurse supervisor in Cardiac Care, entered the lounge. At sixty-three, she was also one of the older nurses, and Candace valued her friendship as much as she did James’s and Elena’s. Anabelle was a kind, compassionate nurse, but she was also the voice of reason in the small group of friends.
“Ah, Anabelle, you’re just the person we need,” Elena immediately said, going on to explain Penny Risser’s veiled warning.
“It may have nothing to do with the nursing staff,” James pointed out.
“Maybe Penny was only making herself sound important,” Anabelle said. “Unfortunately, she does that sometimes.”
“That sounds like playground nonsense,” James said. “Like, ‘I know something that you don’t.’”
“Possibly,” Elena said, sounding unconvinced.
“Anyway, we’ll find out when Mr. Varner wants us to,” Anabelle said. “We just had one pay-cut crisis. Let’s pray it’s not anything like that.”
Elena nodded, but her expression remained grim. After a beat of silence, she said, “Back to work for me.”
“Me too,” James said. “Bye, you two.” They headed down the hall together, Elena animatedly waving her hands as she reiterated her point to James.
Anabelle shook her head and then turned to Candace and peered over the top of her reading glasses that she kept on a chain around her neck.
“I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but I’ve been hearing some rumors myself,” the older nurse said. “What do you suppose our superiors have in store next?”
Candace sighed. “Who knows?” She didn’t want to add Penny’s vague warning to her list of worries.
The next evening Candace debated whether or not to go to her grief counseling session headed by Lila Adams. She had initially started going at the urging of her mother several months ago and had made great strides since. But she still felt she should be ready to face the future without support from Lila and the others. Candace had become more a listener than participant, not wanting to deprive the recently bereaved of their chance to express their sorrow.
Still, her counselor seemed very happy to have her continue. Lila had opened her heart and her home to those in need of help. Not only was she a wise counselor, letting her patients work out their own solutions, but she brought together people who had a great deal in common. Candace counted many members of the group as friends, and she’d formed an especially close bond with Megan Gallagher, a widow herself who was struggling to come to terms with her loss. Sometimes, when the session didn’t run too late, they went out for ice cream afterward. It helped to know someone who’d experienced the same kind of loss.
The stately old homes on Lila’s block were frosted with glistening crystals, and the counselor’s Queen Anne Victorian home reminded Candace of a birthday cake with its snow-covered roof and multiple chimneys sticking up like candles. She parked her black, compact SUV on the street several houses down from Lila’s. Some of the group members were quite elderly, and she liked to save the closer parking spots for them on nights when the pavement was so slippery.
Lila loved old things; but unlike many collectors, she used her antiques to create a warm and nurturing atmosphere. Candace let herself in, hung her coat, and went to the closed door where the group sessions were held. The décor was a feast for the eyes; and every time she arrived, she still found something new to admire. She especially admired a coffee table Lila had made from a stained glass window found at salvage yards. It reminded her of the way the counselor salvaged shattered lives and made them whole again.
Megan wasn’t here tonight. In fact, it was a rather small gathering with a half dozen people, no doubt due in part to the wintery weather. She knew Olive and Verla quite well, having heard their deepest sorrows and taken them into her heart. Lila soon came into the room with her usual plate of cookies. If she was disappointed by the small turnout, she certainly didn’t show it.
Candace nibbled on a cookie as she listened to others’ stories and challenges they’d encountered over the past week. Olive cleared her throat to chime in.
“I’ve found a wonderful new way to console myself and commemorate my husband,” the older woman said. “I’ve been making a memory book of all the places we visited and things we did when we were traveling the country and selling my pottery.”
“How lovely,” Lila said, dressed tonight in sleek brown wool trousers that matched her hair, and a beige cashmere sweater.
While Olive described her scrapbook, Candace thought of all the photos and memories she had randomly stored in boxes. Most were high up on closet shelves where her children never went. The idea of mounting all of Dean’s pictures and souvenirs in one book that her children could enjoy was a good one. Maybe Brooke and Howie would benefit from a big project like that. When Dean first died, memories of him were too painful to relive; but now she felt she might be able to take on this kind of project.
“How did you feel as you were making the memory book?” Lila asked.
“I thought it would make me sad,” Olive said, “but instead I remembered all the good times we had. It didn’t make me miss my husband less, but I felt more and more thankful for all the wonderful experiences we shared.”
Candace sat up a little straighter in her chair as she mulled over the idea of a memory book.
As the session came to an end, the women chatted about the slick road conditions. Candace hadn’t spoken much, but she took away the idea of doing something with all the photos that were haphazardly stored in different boxes and drawers around the house. Images of her husband and all that he’d accomplished in his too-short life deserved better treatment. With a resolved nod, Candace determined Brooke and Howie needed to see what a vibrant and caring person their father had been.
A Note from the Editors
Guideposts, a nonprofit organization, touches millions of lives every day through products and services that inspire, encourage, and uplift. Our magazines, books, prayer network, and outreach programs help people connect their faith-filled values to their daily lives.
Your purchase of Stories from Hope Haven does make a difference! To comfort hospitalized children, Guideposts Outreach has created Comfort Kits for free distribution. A hospital can be a very scary place for sick children. With all the hustle and bustle going on around them, the strange surroundings, and the pain they're experiencing, is it any wonder kids need a little relief?
Inside each easy-to-carry Comfort Kit is a prayer card, a journal, a pack of crayons, an “I'm Special” wristband to wear alongside the hospital-issued one, and a plush golden star pillow to cuddle. It's a welcome gift and has a powerful effect in helping to soothe a child's fears.
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