“What? What are you gonna do?”
“You don’t want to find out.” He grinned and took the stack of plates from her.
“Can I at least get a fresh cup of coffee?”
“I'll bring it to you. Bobbi?”
“Always. Did the kids leave?”
“They were going to rent a movie. They should be back in a few minutes.”
A moment later Gavin returned from the kitchen and refilled their coffee cups. “Let’s go sit in the real living room,” Rita said. “I never sit in my own living room.”
Rita led the way into the front room and switched on the lamp. “Besides, I think Kara and John are in the family room.” She took a seat in the corner of the sofa and waited for Bobbi to sit opposite her. “Can I apologize again?”
“There’s no need,” Bobbi said. “I, on the other hand, need to apologize to you.”
“For what?” Rita set her coffee cup down on a coaster.
“Joel told me weeks ago that in order to heal I had to face the pain that I felt and the pain that I’ve caused.” Rita shook her head, so Bobbi raised her hand. “Let me finish. I’ve hurt you deeply, and I won’t believe you if you deny it.” Bobbi smiled gently, then grew serious as she looked Rita in the eye. “I’ve caused you to lose sleep, to worry and to grieve. I’m sorry, and I’m asking for your forgiveness.”
Rita wiped a tear away and moved down the sofa so she could hug her sister. Bobbi was back.
* * *
Chuck sat on the edge of the bed, watching Bobbi go through her nightly rituals, still marveling at the way she glided through the day. All he hoped for was a day free of that heavy mantle of grief. Instead, she came alive with a vibrancy he hadn’t seen from her in years. If only he could keep the day from ending.
Bobbi kissed his cheek as she passed and pulled down the covers on her side of the bed. “Kara and John seemed to enjoy each other today,” she said.
“I was too busy watching you to notice.” He nearly melted when she blushed and smiled at him.
“God does good work. It wasn’t me.” She slid down under the covers and Chuck climbed into bed with her. “You busy tomorrow?” she asked.
And now the bubble would burst. “I, uh . . .” He cleared his throat, stalling, and she raised an eyebrow. He coughed one more time, hoping that would make it more believable. “I figured Jack and I would hang the lights outside.”
“So everything is ready for Shannon to come home?”
“Is that okay?”
“It’s perfect,” she said. “I’ve got some errands to run in the morning. Could we get a late lunch? Just me and you?”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I’d leave Jack hanging off the edge of the roof to have lunch with you—late or otherwise.”
“Great! Good night.” She leaned over to kiss him. “I do love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I never doubted that.”
“Never?”
He shook his head. “I wondered if you’d ever be able to tell me again.”
“I’m gonna try to make that up to you.”
“You already have.”
“No, trust me on this.”
* * *
Friday, November 28
With the wreaths hung and the shrubs decorated, Jack steadied the ladder while Chuck draped the lights across his shoulder. “Want me to do that?” Jack asked.
“What? Climb the ladder? I got it.”
“Does Mom know?”
“Of course she knows.”
“That you’re getting on the ladder?”
“I’ll be done before she gets back.”
“That’s what I thought.” Jack grinned, then reset his feet, and Chuck started climbing. Before he got the first strand of lights hung, Bobbi pulled in the driveway. “This is late?” he called to her once she got out of her car.
“This is Jack on the roof?” She crossed her arms across her chest and tilted her head the same way she did when she caught the kids in something.
“I’ll just finish this up.” Chuck slipped the lights over the hooks and climbed down the ladder. “Do I need to change clothes?”
“Good grief, no. Jack, are you set for lunch?”
“There’s leftovers and pie. I’m good.”
“It’s like having Joel home again,” Bobbi said, teasing him. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be.”
“I think I can trust you guys,” Jack said, easing the ladder away from the porch roof. Chuck took one end to help him carry it back to the garage. “Dad, I got it. Go.”
“I’m driving,” Bobbi said, getting back into her car.
“You sound like a woman on a mission,” Chuck said when he got in the car.
“I am.” She backed out of the driveway, then honked and waved at Jack before driving away. “Looks like you got a lot done on the lights.”
“They all worked first try. That sped things up.” He watched Bobbi get her sunglasses from the visor case and slip them on. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Is this for real?”
“Is what for real?”
“You.”
“I really caused some deep scars, didn’t I?” At the next red light, she raised her sunglasses. “I promise I’m not acting, Chuck. I feel good. Better than I have in months.”
“Brad’s notebook did that?”
“It was the catalyst. Things seemed to click for me yesterday.”
Especially after yesterday he wanted to believe her. He wanted to accept that everything was back to the way it should be, but he needed more proof, so he risked a question. “What about Shannon?”
Bobbi sighed deeply, and he tensed, fearing he’d blown it. “I don’t know yet,” she said. “For the longest time I convinced myself she wasn’t coming home, that she was gone for good.”
“Why would you think that?”
“General hopelessness, I guess.”
“But now you think she’s coming home?”
“I said I don’t know yet. My answers seem to be coming gradually, in stages. I’ll get back to you.” She glanced over at him and smiled.
“So, where are we going?”
“To lunch.”
“Where? This is the road out to the lake. There aren’t any restaurants on this road.”
She looked over the rim of her sunglasses at him. “Sometimes you need to sit back and enjoy the ride and stop trying to figure everything out.”
“But why are you going to the lake?”
“Chuck! Stop! Just ride.”
He dutifully spent the rest of the drive to Dixson Lake silently watching his wife. When she pulled onto the boat ramp and turned off the car, he asked, “So do we get out?”
“I think so.” She got out and rounded the car to him. She took both his hands in hers, her eyes brimming. “I want to apologize to you. I’ve made your burdens so much heavier. I am so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course,” he said. “You brought me all the way out here for that?”
“No, I brought you out here for this.” She pulled a small envelope from her coat pocket and handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
“Open it, silly.”
He ripped the end off the envelope and removed a business card. “Oncology Associates, Dr. Stephen Kremer.” Flipping the card over, he continued reading, “Wednesday, December third, ten thirty a.m.”
Chapter 21
Connection
Just before three o’clock, with the Colorado-Nebraska game at halftime, Jack wandered into the kitchen for a second piece of pie. If Colorado could hold on to their lead, that would move Missouri one step closer to the Big 12 championship game next weekend. He poured a glass of milk for himself and put his slice of pie in the microwave. Aunt Rita had gone traditional on them this Thanksgiving, baking a pumpkin pie instead of the usual fruit pie.
As he pulled the warm pie from the microwave, he heard the
front door open. “I’m in the kitchen!” he called. When his parents walked in, he teasingly scolded, “Now when I said I could trust you guys, that didn’t mean I expected you to take advantage of me. It doesn’t take three hours to eat lunch.”
His mother smiled at his dad. “He sounds just like you.”
Jack grinned. “Dad, Colorado is up at the half. We’re still in.”
“What about Oklahoma?” he asked.
“Killing State. Two touchdowns so far.”
“Excellent. Did you finish the pie?”
“Not yet. Here.” He handed Chuck the warm piece of pie and got a plate from the cabinet. “You didn’t get dessert with your two-hour lunch?”
“Why would I buy dessert when Rita’s pie is here?” He took a large bite.
“Chuck, why don’t you go get a good seat on the sofa for the game.” His mother pointed his dad toward the family room.
“Huh? Oh, right.” His dad shuffled toward the door, taking another bite of pie on his way out.
His mother opened the refrigerator and got the last piece of pie out and slid it onto Jack’s plate. “I promise I won’t keep you from your game,” she said, “but I need to talk to you for a second.”
“You’re going to the doctor, aren’t you?”
“How’d you know?”
“The look on Dad’s face when he came in. He looked like he’d won the lottery, and since Shannon wasn’t with you, you going to the doctor was the only other thing I could think of that would make him that happy.”
“You’re pretty sharp.” She smiled, the weariness finally gone from her eyes. “I have an appointment Wednesday morning. That’s not all I wanted to say. Jack, I want to apologize to you.”
“Why?”
“I hurt you deeply, and I haven’t been much of a parent lately. I’ve been so self-absorbed that I haven’t been there for you. I’m sorry.”
He smiled gently and hugged her. “Thanks. That takes a lot of guts, apologizing to your kids.”
“Dad and I have lots of practice apologizing over the years, and not just to our kids.”
“Well, I think you and Dad are just about the two most incredible people I know.”
“I love you.” She kissed his cheek, then hugged him again. “I couldn’t have done this without my boys.”
“How’s that?”
“You and Joel both had the guts to tell me the tough things I needed to hear, and Brad’s notebook . . .” She looked away and swallowed hard. “Brad’s notebook had some insight I needed.”
“Isn’t it funny? You and Dad taught us all that stuff growing up. Now you’re getting it back when you need it.”
“God’s wonderful that way. Now, go watch your game.”
“It’s worth a million bucks to see you smile again.” He winked at her, then picked up his piece of pie and headed to the family room.
* * *
As Bobbi watched him walk away, her mind drifted back to her own irrational fears about Jack, fears that he would be a wedge between Chuck and her, that he had his mother’s unbalanced vindictiveness, that he would be a tormenter to Shannon. Instead, God gave them a gentle, thoughtful, fiercely loyal young man. Amazing.
She glanced at the clock on the microwave. Plenty of time before Joel stopped by. She walked back out to her car and retrieved a small shopping bag from her trunk. She carried it upstairs to her bedroom, and sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled a devotional book from the bag, Great Is Thy Faithfulness, the very book she’d been reading from when Brad was killed. She carefully turned to the last page she’d read, slipped the receipt in for a bookmark, and laid the book on her nightstand.
* * *
Bobbi sat at the kitchen table paging through the stack of Black Friday ads from the morning paper. A few things caught her eye as possibilities for Jack or Shannon. She whispered a prayer of thanks for that small miracle. Two days ago, the thought of Christmas was more than she could manage.
“What’s the score?” Joel called as he stepped through the kitchen doorway.
“Twenty-one to seventeen,” Jack called back. “But Nebraska has the ball.”
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Bobbi said, pushing back from the table.
“Don’t get up.” Joel hung his jacket on one of the kitchen chairs and leaned down to hug her. “But before football,” he said, taking the chair next to hers, “you were going to tell me how wonderful you feel.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You were one hundred and eighty degrees different on the phone yesterday. The house even feels different today.”
“Let me pour us some coffee and you can tell me what else I’m going to say to you,” Bobbi said, teasing him. “How was Thanksgiving?”
“It was good, actually. Rob didn’t say anything snide, and Angela was very gracious.”
“Was Abby’s brother there?”
“Perfect Josh? Of course. And perfect Amber with perfect little Zachary.”
“You sound snide now.” She set a cup in front of him and rejoined him at the table.
“I just get frustrated with them. Home should be the place where you can count on unconditional love. With Abby, it’s the only place she doesn’t get it. I hate it for her.”
“Do you think Shannon’s afraid we’ll judge her somehow? Is that why she’s staying away?”
“You tell me,” Joel said, taking a long drink from the coffee.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know better than anyone what’s going on with Shannon. You’ve been the prodigal, Mom.”
“What?”
“You walked away from God because He hurt you. You refused to have anything to do with Him for weeks, but then something brought you back.”
Bobbi leaned back in her chair. “Joel, how do you know these things?”
“It’s not any special insight. Basically, I don’t think before I speak.” He smiled broadly. “So when is your doctor’s appointment?”
Bobbi rolled her eyes at him. “At least I could surprise Dad. It’s Wednesday.”
“Still with Dr. Kremer? He’s the best.”
“Yes, that’s who Dr. Karsten recommended.” She took a sip from her coffee. “Listen Joel, I want to ask for your forgiveness.”
“What on earth for?”
“I’ve been difficult these last few months. I’ve caused you a lot of grief, and I’m sorry.”
“If it makes you feel better to apologize, then I accept, but you didn’t have to. I understand.”
“You played a big part in snapping me out of this, you know. You weren’t afraid to be brutally honest with me and with Dad. We needed that. I don’t think either of us was thinking especially clearly.”
“Yeah, it’s tough being the only sane one in the family.”
“Hey, I’m sane!” Jack carried his pie plate in and put it in the dishwasher. “Nebraska scored. Now they’re up twenty-four to twenty-one.”
Joel grimaced. “This is nerve-wracking.”
“You should go watch the game,” Bobbi said.
“I’m recording it. I can watch it when I get home, provided Jack doesn’t blow the ending for me.”
“Sorry,” Jack said, and disappeared back into the family room.
“So what are your plans for Christmas?” Joel asked.
“I have no idea,” Bobbi answered. “I hadn’t thought much past this week.”
“Great! You can come to our house then.”
“Are you sure Abby wants us?”
“It was her idea. She wants to do it for you, you know, to take some of the pressure off.”
“I’m good now. I can do Christmas.”
“Mom, let Abby do this for you.”
“All right. Christmas is at your house.”
* * *
Bobbi shook her head as she watched Chuck back out of the driveway. Incorrigible. She specifically, explicitly stated she did not want anything for Christmas, and yet as soon as they finished off the Tha
nksgiving leftovers, Chuck announced he and Jack were headed to the Galleria.
She settled in the corner of the family room sofa and clicked through the channels on the muted television. The shows couldn’t steal her attention away from Joel’s comments. Did she know Shannon better than anyone?
Was she as hardheaded as Shannon seemed to be? That unreasonable? Probably. Dying from cancer had made perfect sense to her, but it was completely insane. Whatever Shannon was doing must make perfect sense to her.
She closed her eyes. What else? What else might by cycling through Shannon’s mind? Probably the same kinds of things that dragged through her own mind during the last few months.
No options. Shannon must feel like she has no other options when, in fact, options are everywhere. She also likely believed no one understood what she felt, that her hurt was worse, or at least different, than everyone else’s.
But something brought you back, Joel said. Not something. Someone. More than one, actually. Did Shannon have anyone to challenge her? If not, what would bring Shannon home? In the Biblical story the prodigal son came home after he came to his senses, “came to himself.”
It had to be her decision, though. No one would be able to convince Shannon to come home, just like no one could convince her to change her mind and go to the doctor. Not until she couldn’t fight anymore. Not until she was ready to let go of her anger and her shame. Not a moment before.
Dear God, did You worry about me like this? At least You knew where I was, and You knew I’d come back. I know You want me to trust You, rejoice in You in spite of everything, but could You just let me know she’s okay? Can I ask for that much grace?
* * *
Shannon Molinsky sat in the food court at the Galleria staring at the stream of people passing by without really focusing on any of them. Thankful to have someplace to go besides her cold, empty apartment, she wondered how many more days she could hang out here before mall security started checking up on her.
Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series Page 24
