She turned to the girls. “Jennifer and Hannah, do you want to come with me to get some cocoa?” They both nodded dumbly and went with her to the elevator.
In the cafeteria, the three of them sat around a Formica-topped table and sipped their cocoa. Meg wished she could think of something encouraging to say.
“Aunt Meggie,” asked Jennifer in a tiny voice, “do you really think that God has everything under control?”
Meg blinked and looked down at her cocoa. “I’m not much of an expert on these things...” she began lamely.
“Well, Daddy says that God’s holding Ashley in his hands and that everything will be okay.” Jennifer looked at Meg with questioning eyes. “Is that true?”
“I think so.” Meg returned her gaze. “To be honest, I hadn’t given God much thought for quite a few years. But since Ashley got sick, I’ve been praying a lot. And just this afternoon, I got this reassurance, sort of a peaceful feeling, and it really seemed like God was listening.”
Jennifer nodded thoughtfully, then sipped her cocoa.
“Daddy said that God can do a miracle,” said Hannah. “And I believe it, too. That’s what I’m praying for.”
“Me, too,” said Meg.
“Really?” asked Jennifer with big brown eyes, so much like her mother’s. “Then I will, too.”
“Great,” said Meg. “Maybe the more people there are to pray for a miracle, the better the chance that it will happen.”
“Do you think Sunny and Sigfried are praying for a miracle?” asked Jennifer.
“Maybe,” said Meg, although she really didn’t think so. Still, it would do no good to dampen the somewhat lifted spirits of the girls.
When they got back upstairs, Erin and Tom were both in the waiting room with Sigfried. Sunny was gone.
Meg lifted her brows in question. “Sunny?”
Erin nodded.
“We told her to stay for only five minutes,” said Tom, glancing nervously at his watch. “I think it’s about up. I haven’t seen Ashley for quite a while.” He stood and moved to the door and waited. He glanced around as if trying to spot a nurse to go in and let Sunny know her time was up, but no one appeared to be free. So Tom waited.
Meg tried to make small talk with Erin, but she kept looking at Tom, still waiting by the door. What was taking Sunny so long? Didn’t she have a watch? Or did she think this was another instance where she could twist the rules a bit? It was so infuriating. Meg wanted to give her mother a piece of her mind, but she knew this was not the place for a scene.
“Would you like me to take the girls home?” she asked Erin.
Erin looked at her with an absent expression, as if she had become incapable of making simple decisions.
“What do you think, Meg?” Erin finally asked, although the words sounded empty.
“Maybe it would be best if they got home and stayed in something of a routine. You can always call me and tell me otherwise.” She glanced at the girls and said in a quiet voice, “If things change or we need to come back...”
Erin’s chin quivered. “Sure. That sounds like a good plan. Thanks, Meg.”
Meg gathered the girls, trying not to look at Tom still waiting by the door as she herded them toward the elevator. She was relieved that she wouldn’t be here when Sunny finally came out. If she ever came out. Perhaps a nurse would have to go in and drag her away. It was even more irksome to consider Sunny’s behavior since Erin had told her how often Sunny had missed birthdays and other important occasions over the years. Maybe Sunny’s act tonight was inspired by guilt.
Finally, they pulled into the driveway, and Meg told herself to let go of this bitterness toward Sunny. She knew it wasn’t healthy, and right now the girls needed her.
“Daddy took care of the dog,” Jennifer informed her as they walked into the house. “But I don’t think anyone has checked on Ashley’s bunnies.”
“Ashley showed me how to do that,” said Meg. “You two had better go get ready for bed. I hope you didn’t have any homework.”
“I have a little,” said Jennifer. “But it won’t take me long.”
Meg found a flashlight by the back door and made her way to the bunny hutch. She fumbled for a while, trying to open the latch and hold the flashlight steady enough to see. Finally, she set the flashlight down. It was a clear night, and the moon was shining bright. She allowed her eyes a chance to adjust to the dark until she could see well enough to open the latch without the flashlight.
The bunnies still had enough water for the night, but were without food. She filled the bowls and watched them gobble it up hungrily. She reached in and petted the fur of one of the rabbits. She wasn’t sure which one, because it was so dark, but the feel of soft, warm fur between her fingers was soothing.
“Ashley is very sick,” she told the bunnies quietly. “She would probably want me to tell you hello for her. And I’m sure you would want to send back your best bunny regards.” She removed her hand and fastened the door shut. “I hope she’ll get to see you again soon.” Meg turned in the darkness and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Please, God,” she whispered desperately. “Please, do a miracle.”
The next two days passed slowly, each one nearly the same as the one before. Meg took care of Jennifer and Hannah and kept the house in order. She stopped in to see Grandmother and informed her of Ashley’s progress, or rather lack of progress. Grandmother was very concerned, and she told Meg there was no loss on earth so great as the loss of one’s own child. She said she was praying for Ashley.
Erin continued to stay in the hospital, sleeping when she could in a room they allowed her to use. But each day, Erin looked more worn and pale. Meg worried that Erin might get sick too. She tried to get her to eat and drink, but Erin’s only interest was sitting by Ashley’s side whenever she could. Sometimes Meg took turns sitting by Ashley’s bed while Erin rested. She would try to chatter cheerfully to the still girl, telling her about the bunnies, the weather, and whatever else came to mind. Finally, she discovered a subject that was easy to go on and on about. She began telling Ashley all about the cranberry bog, and how she’d started helping Grandpa when she was about the same age as Ashley. She described in detail how the bog looked and smelled at various times of the year, telling what fun it was to harvest the shiny red berries as they floated in the flooded bogs.
On the third evening of Ashley’s stay in the hospital, Tom decided to take the girls home himself, asking Meg to remain with Erin. He, too, was getting concerned about Erin’s health. But no one knew what to do. Erin refused to go home. She had even lost interest in her other two daughters. Meg could see that Tom was almost at his wit’s end.
That night, just before midnight, Erin came away from Ashley’s room, sank into a chair beside Meg, and began to talk. Her words were slow at first, spoken in a monotone, and Meg wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. But she gradually became more upset, and Meg tried to stop her, afraid that Erin might later regret her words. Her intense tone frightened Meg; it was rambling and almost delirious. Finally Meg gave up. Stopping Erin was like trying to flag down an overloaded freight train as it thundered down the mountain. Instead, Meg just sat back and listened as her sister poured out her story.
“I’m an awful person, Meg. You have no idea. Horrible. You should be ashamed to call me your sister. You see, when Ashley was born, I wanted a boy. It wasn’t just for Tom’s sake, either. No, selfish me, I just wanted to have a son. Anyway, I was mad when I found out I’d had another girl.” She wiped tears from her eyes and continued. “I’ve never told anyone this, Meg. But when I saw Ashley’s wrinkled red face and kinky red hair, I felt nothing for her. No love at all. Nothing.”
For some reason, this admission was worse than if Erin had admitted to being a hit-and-run driver or a bigamist. Meg felt as if someone were twisting a dull steak knife right into her heart. She could almost hear Sunny’s voice saying the exact same thing about her. Had she? Meg shook her head to disperse the crazy thoughts and
brought herself back to Erin.
“But surely, Erin, that was only for a moment. After that, you must have felt something—”
“No, Meg.” Erin’s voice grew calmer now, as if this outpouring had begun to work its therapy. “The sad truth is, for a long time I felt nothing. I took care of her, fed her, changed her. But I never really bonded with her. Of course, I know I loved her. But it was an odd, almost crippled kind of love. Nothing like what I felt for Jennifer and Hannah. And it didn’t help that Ashley looked so different from them. You must understand, Meg. She’s not a beautiful child…” Erin looked at Meg with tears flowing freely down her cheeks now. “You must hate me for saying this.”
“No, I don’t. I just feel sorry for Ashley.”
“It’s breaking my heart, too, Meg. I feel so horribly guilty about the past. I keep wondering if somehow she knew in her heart, if she knew that I didn’t love her like I loved her sisters. If I could change the past, I would. The good part is that I feel totally different now. Now, I love Ashley so much. I keep telling her how much I love her. I don’t know if she can hear me. I would gladly die if she could just live. I really would, Meg.” Erin collapsed into wracking sobs, and Meg held her tightly.
“I know you would, Erin.” Meg paused. “I would too,” she added softly.
Erin pulled back and looked at Meg. “You would?”
Meg nodded with tears in her eyes. “Yes, that little girl feels like the closest thing to my own daughter. She and I hit it off right from the start.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it? She even looks enough like you to be yours. And she really likes you.”
Meg nodded. “I really want to see her grow up, Erin.”
“Me, too.”
They prayed together for Ashley. It was the first time Meg had actually prayed aloud with anyone. She had sat in on their prayers, listening and agreeing in her heart, but she had always been too uncomfortable to speak herself. Even now her words were not flowery or poetic, and she didn’t know all the words to use, but what she said was from her heart.
“Amen,” said Erin, squeezing Meg’s hands. “I’m so glad you’re here, Meg. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without you. I hope you never leave.”
Meg looked away. This was a decision she had not settled on yet. At times, she felt a crushing urgency that she needed to get back to her old life, back to the big city. She imagined herself back in her little apartment, going back to work, going shopping and out for dinner. Then in weaker moments, she wasn’t so sure. Part of her felt strangely at home in Crandale. More at home than she had ever felt anywhere else.
“Mrs. Edwards?” called the ICU nurse. “Can you come here right now?” Erin leaped up and disappeared behind the doors that led to Ashley. Meg leaned over and buried her head in her hands, pleading silently with God.
It seemed like hours before Meg heard Erin’s footsteps emerging from the room. Meg looked up slowly, almost afraid to know. She stared into her sister’s face.
“She’s come back to us, Meg.” Erin’s face broke into a glowing smile. “She spoke to me. She even asked about Aunt Meggie.”
Meg jumped up. “Can I see her?”
“In a few minutes. They are doing some things right now.” The two sisters hugged and cried and thanked God, right there in front of the nurses’ station. Soon the nurses joined in. Everyone in ICU had come to care deeply for Ashley in the short time she’d been there.
“I’ve got to call Tom,” said Erin. A nurse handed her the phone from the desk and told her to go ahead.
Meg listened as Erin filled Tom in on all the medical details. It seemed the ICU doctor wasn’t ready to admit that Ashley was out of the woods yet, but he was amazed that she was recovering at all. Then a nurse came out of ICU and motioned for Meg to come over.
“You can go in now,” said the nurse. “Just don’t tire her out. She’s been through quite an ordeal, poor little angel.”
Meg slipped into the chair next to Ashley. All the same tubes and machines were hooked up, and Ashley’s eyes were closed. Just as Meg began to grow worried that Ashley might have lost consciousness again, the little girl’s eyes opened. Meg stood up so that Ashley could see her without moving her head.
“Hi, Ashley,” said Meg quietly. “I’m sure glad to see you. I’ve been taking care of Peter and Flopsy. They’re both doing just fine, but they miss you.”
Ashley smiled. “Did you give them a carrot?” she whispered.
“Yes, and some broccoli, too.” Meg reached over and touched Ashley’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re better, Ashley. I’ve been missing you, too.”
“Aunt Meggie?”
“Yes?”
“I want to see Grandpa’s cranberries.”
Meg laughed. Ashley had actually heard what Meg said during those long hours of waiting. “Well, then you shall. Just as soon as you get all better, I promise to take you to see Grandpa’s cran-berries!”
Ashley smiled and closed her eyes.
TWELVE
Erin called early the next morning to report that Ashley was doing even better, and Tom headed straight for the hospital. Meg was glad to help get the girls off to school this time. It was a pleasant change to see their happy faces as they boarded the bus. The final prognosis wasn’t in yet, but in her heart, Meg believed that Ashley was going to be okay.
She rummaged through Erin’s closet in search of warm outdoor clothes. Erin had given her borrowing privileges when she’d learned that Meg hadn’t brought much with her from San Francisco. Meg smiled as she pulled on some jeans. As a teenager she had never been able to squeeze into her sister’s things, but now the jeans were loose and comfortable, and Erin was as slender as ever. Meg pulled a wool sweater over her head and searched for a pair of sturdy boots. Her goals were to get to the bog this morning so she could take some photos to show Ashley what the bog looked like, and to pay Grandmother a visit to tell her the good news.
She checked on the dog and fed the bunnies, then grabbed her camera and headed for town. The sky was clear and blue today, with the promise of spring in the air. It was a good day to be alive. And for a change, she felt alive and glad to be in Crandale. As she drove toward town, she realized she would need to buy some film, and since she would be stopping anyway, the decent thing to do would be to stop by Sunny’s and tell her about Ashley’s progress.
The little bell jingled on the door of the gallery, and she quickly spotted Sigfried opening some boxes in the back room.
“Hi, Sigfried,” she called. “Is Sunny around?”
He looked up and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back on his nose. “Nope. She doesn’t usually come in this early. You know Sunny; she’s not much of a morning person.”
“That’s right, I forgot.” Meg smiled, hoping to win his approval. They hadn’t gotten started on the right foot, but she wanted to fix it now, although she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe they all just needed a fresh start. “Well, I do have some good news.”
“Is it Ashley?” His eyes lit up as he leaned a big frame against the counter and gave her his full attention.
“Yep, she regained consciousness late last night. We think she’s going to be okay now. Of course, the doctors aren’t saying anything for sure yet, but her pediatrician will be in today to check on her.”
“That’s great. Sunny will be so pleased.” He walked over to Meg and stuck out his hand. “Sorry about that little episode on the phone the other day. Don’t know what comes over me sometimes.”
“That’s okay.” She said, taking his hand. He gave it a little shake and a friendly squeeze. “I know I still have some fences to mend with Sunny.” She released his hand and looked down at her feet. “It’s just not easy...”
“Never is. But that’s no reason to give up. Right?”
“Sure, I guess so. Anyway, tell Sunny the good news.”
“You bet I will. Thanks for dropping by.”
She picked up several rolls of film and found out where the one
-hour photo shop was located, then headed over to Briar Hedge. She drove past the familiar old house and down the road, then stopped, deciding to walk the remaining distance. It was a beautiful morning, and the sun would be at a perfect angle to get some shots of the bogs. She remembered the year she and Grandpa had planted dozens of daffodil bulbs around the bogs, and wondered if they would still be around. If so, they should be in bloom about now.
The land where the bog was situated was up on a slight incline from the house, at an elevation that couldn’t be more than sixty or seventy feet above sea level, but high enough that the bog wasn’t visible from the house. For that reason, Grandpa had built a little cabin where he could camp out and watch out for frost in the late spring and occasionally even into the summer. She walked until the cabin came into sight, then pulled out her old camera and took a couple shots. It looked a little run-down, but she supposed that was to be expected. She knew that Abner had been neglecting the bog in recent years. She reached the top of the rise, took a deep breath, and looked expectantly out over the bogs.
A sick feeling washed over her when she saw what had once been one of the best cranberry farms in the area. It was only mid-March, and the bogs already were choked by all kinds of weeds. It was plain to see that this was not the result of only one season of neglect. It was normal to have some weeds every year; she had spent many a spring break out here weeding the few stragglers that popped up. But now the weeds were so thick that they were all she could see. Even the wild blackberries, long neglected, had slithered down the hillside and were reaching their greedy fingers toward the bogs.
She walked closer, staring in horror at the hopelessly overgrown bogs. How could any of the cranberry plants have possibly survived this kind of abuse and neglect? She hopped down the incline and right into the bog, remembering how Grandpa had told her that many people thought the bogs were a wet and soggy place, when in fact their soil had to be kept somewhat dry to protect the plants. He had explained to her that a layer of peat was laid beneath the bog to hold just the right amount of moisture for the plants, since they didn’t like to sit in water. Grandpa used to fret about a few weeds; she hated to imagine what he would think about this horrible mess.
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