Hidden Blessings

by Kim Cash Tate

  Ellen frowned a little. “What is it?”

  “My dad—Brooklyn’s dad—will be here in a month.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  September

  LANCE DIDN’T KNOW HOW HE’D GOTTEN ROPED INTO THIS. A small cookout at home turned into a fun hangout for the Bible study group, which morphed into a Labor Day bash that included friends from Living Word. And Lance had been designated host and grill captain.

  Darrin was supposed to help, since he’d invited himself and the LW gang, as he called them, but he hadn’t arrived yet, and over two dozen others had. So Lance got started on the basic plan, hamburgers and hot dogs, while Trey and Molly worked on the sides.

  He walked inside now through the kitchen. People were everywhere—outdoors, kitchen, dining room, hunched over plastic plates, talking. Lance glanced around for Trey to help get more chairs but, not finding him, headed down by himself. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard voices.

  “You can’t fire that up in here, man,” Trey was saying.

  “Since when?” a guy said. “We always roll like this at your parties.”

  “First, it’s not my party,” Trey said, “and second, I don’t roll like that anymore.”

  “You need to put it out,” another voice said. “Now.”

  Is that Timmy?

  “Whatever, man, I’m out of here.”

  The guy swept past him on the stairs as Lance continued down.

  “I’m proud of you guys,” Lance said, pulling each to a handshake-hug. “Seems like yesterday you were partying and trashing the house. Now you’re cleaning up behind the last guest and picking up in the yard, from napkins to paper plates to soda cans.”

  Timmy looked from Trey to Lance, confused. “What?”

  “I think he’s saying that’s what we’re doing tonight,” Trey said. “As payback.”

  “Payback?” Lance put his hand to his chest in disbelief. “Never. Just life lessons in responsibility.”

  “That party, though . . .” Timmy’s eyes brightened with the memory. “In terms of sheer volume of attendance juxtaposed against how late in the day we put the word out . . . killer.”

  Lance patted him on the back. “To the last stray paper cup in the living room.” He went to the stacked chairs. “I need you guys to help with these too.”

  On the way up with folding chairs, Lance heard Darrin’s voice. “Finally decided to show up?” Lance called.

  At the top of the stairs, he saw him in the entryway—with Adrienne and her roommate. Darrin hadn’t said he was bringing them, but Lance wasn’t surprised. He set the chairs down to greet them.

  “Hey, stranger.” Adrienne hugged him, then gave his shoulder a playful hit. “I thought we were friends. You’re a hard person to keep up with.”

  He smiled. “I guess I can’t deny that.”

  The group of them settled outside as Lance and Darrin put more meat on the grill. Adrienne and her roommate pulled up chairs close by.

  “Did I hear someone say there’s a Bible study here on Wednesday nights?” Adrienne asked.

  “There is,” Lance said. “We started it earlier this summer, for people in the area.”

  “So that means my roomie and I can’t come?” She gave him a playful glance. “Would you deny us entry to a Bible study, Pastor Lance?”

  He flipped a burger. “If you don’t know the secret password, you will indeed be denied admittance.”

  “Seriously though, I’d love to hear you teach,” Adrienne said. “I happened into part of your message at one of the youth services and got a lot from it.”

  “So I’m assuming,” Darrin said, tongs in hand, “that if Lance planted a church, you’d visit?”

  “Oh my goodness, is that a possibility?” Adrienne tipped her can up and sipped some soda. “I love Pastor Lyles, but if Living Word plants another church with Lance as pastor . . . I’m there.”

  “Darrin’s just talking,” Lance said, giving him the eye.

  A line began forming, Molly among them, as sizzling hot burgers came off the grill.

  Lance scooped a burger onto Molly’s bun. “Hey, Moll, how’s Kendra? Still in bed?”

  “Yeah,” Molly said. “She took some pain medication and went to sleep.”

  “Okay,” Lance said. “I’ll check on her in a little bit.”

  Trey brought his iPod outside. “We got some requests for line-dance music,” he said.

  Lance made a face. “Are you serious?”

  “You got a problem with that?” Cedric came over, laughing, with his wife in tow.

  “Cedric thinks he’s the line-dance king,” Cyd said. “Something he can still excel at in his forties.”

  “Aw, that’s cold.” Cedric grabbed her hand. “But can you still hang with me? . . . That’s the question.”

  Trey cued up the “Wobble,” and in seconds the grass had filled with people. Cedric and Cyd took the lead to show the others what to do, and in no time everyone was leaning side to side with their arms in the air.

  Brooklyn had been playing games inside with a few of the younger kids but ran out when she heard the music. She pulled Lance from beside the grill. “Come on. Let’s dance,” she said.

  Lance resisted. “Go out there with Trey, Brooklyn. That’s not my thing.”

  “Oh, stop being a fuddy-duddy.” Adrienne got up and took his other hand. “It’s painless. Come on, just once.”

  Lance followed them out there. There were four rows of line dancers, and he made sure they took the back row.

  He got a kick out of Brooklyn. “I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he said.

  She wobbled left, then right, grinning. “We did this in day camp.”

  Adrienne knew it, too, dancing smoothly, coaching Lance with her movements. “See, you’re getting the hang of it!”

  “I wasn’t worried about getting the hang of it,” Lance said. “I just think it’s silly.”

  She pushed his shoulder. “Oh, stop.”

  Everyone quarter-turned, and Lance’s line became the front. Cedric shouted from the back, “Go, Lance! Go, Lance! Go, Lance!”

  Lance waved him off, laughing. Then his eyes caught a glimpse of someone watching from the upstairs bathroom window.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  THIS HAD TO BE ONE OF KENDRA’S HARDEST WEEKS YET. Nausea and vomiting had become the morning and evening ritual. Her upper left side was stiff, arm and chest muscles perpetually fatigued, likely from hauling a heavy cancerous tumor that once was her left breast. Bruises like tattoos covered her arms from the needle sticks and IVs. Her gums were sore. Fingernails discolored. And to match her bald head, her eyebrows were almost gone.

  Still, she’d ventured down for Bible study, thankful it was right here at home. She was learning that when her body felt the worst, her soul gained the most from this time. From the lesson to the inevitable laughter, she didn’t want to miss it.

  The meal had concluded, and everyone had found a spot in the living room, many on the floor. Kendra felt bad taking up the sofa, so she curled up while others shared the space with her. It had gotten more crowded now that classes had started and students were back. Kendra wouldn’t be surprised if Molly had been passing out flyers for the study in the student union.

  “Welcome, everyone, to The Shadow.” Lance sat in a folding chair on the perimeter of a makeshift circle. “For those who don’t know why we have such a mysterious-sounding name, it’s about coming out of the dark shadows that imprison us and into the shadow of the Almighty, through His Son, Jesus.”

  Kendra always thought someone might get up and walk out when they found out the study revolved around Jesus, but so far, people at least took time to listen.

  “We’ve talked about God’s shadow in various ways,” Lance continued. “As a place of truth, light, and protection, for example, always incorporating Jesus and who He is. In our discussion groups, Cyd and I have had enough questions that I want to spend our time tonight just talking about salvati
on.” He took in their faces. “Some of you have questions like ‘How can Jesus be the only way to heaven?’ and those are good questions. We welcome those—”

  The doorbell rang, and Molly jumped up from the floor.

  “Sorry we’re late,” a voice said.

  “Oh, you’re cool,” Molly said. “Come on in.”

  Kendra glanced up—and her evening tanked. What are Adrienne and her roommate doing here?

  A couple of people scooted over, making room on the floor, which happened to be by Lance’s chair. Adrienne took the floor space beside him—of course—and set her Bible in her lap like a dutiful student.

  “Hey, you two,” Lance said. “So first,” he continued, looking around the room, “let’s look at who we are before we’re saved. Turn to Ephesians chapter 2.”

  Kendra could see Adrienne turning, head angled down, with a full mane of thick, gorgeous hair. Eyebrows perfectly plucked. Two healthy, same-size breasts. And a bundle of energy.

  Kendra shifted, searching out a comfortable position, touching the scarf that now seemed poorly tied. She’d forgotten what passage Lance said to turn to. Tonight even her soul couldn’t find relief.

  Most everyone had cleared out except Darla, who’d cornered Lance with more questions; Timmy, who seemed to be in line behind Darla, if there were a line; and Adrienne and her roommate—obviously angling for last in line. Trey and Molly had just mentioned going to clean the kitchen.

  “Molly,” Kendra whispered.

  Molly bopped over. “What’s up?”

  Kendra motioned for her to sit next to her. “Don’t leave me in here by myself.”

  Molly raised a confused brow, glancing around the room. “How would you be by yourself?”

  “Take my word for it.”

  “Want me to help you upstairs?” Molly asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Molly leaned in. “You trying to see what Adrienne is up to?”

  Kendra cocked her head. “How’d you know?”

  “Girl . . .” She gave Kendra a look. “Is there such a thing as pastor groupies? Because she’s one.”

  Monday night, Adrienne had stayed late at the cookout, dancing and playing Spades in a card tourney. Kendra, too sick to come down, had missed it all. She was tired of sickness driving her from the fun, or in this case, from plain curiosity.

  “Molly, where’d you put the trash bags I bought?” Trey called.

  “Be right back,” Molly said, heading to the kitchen.

  Darla waved at her. “Bye, Kendra, I’ll see you next time.”

  “See you, Darla,” Kendra said.

  Timmy engaged Lance next. And seconds later, Adrienne hopped over and sat on the floor beside Kendra.

  “I haven’t had a chance to really talk to you,” Adrienne said, “other than that time I brought Maggiano’s.”

  “How’ve you been, Adrienne?”

  “I’ve been good, but . . . I didn’t realize you were sick when we first met.” She paused. “You still had all your hair.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I guess I did.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Adrienne looked sincere. “Is it breast cancer?”

  “It is,” Kendra said, preferring to leave out specifics.

  “I’ll definitely be praying for you,” Adrienne said. “Now I understand why Lance said it was complicated.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked a little embarrassed. “I kind of asked if the two of you were in a relationship, since you lived here together, and he said no, but it was complicated.”

  Kendra’s arms twitched. They’d apparently had time for a late-night convo in the midst of everything else on Labor Day. And this was what he said? “Yes, complicated is . . . a fair assessment.”

  Molly returned, stopping midstride at the view.

  “Can you help me up now, Molly?” Kendra’s nighttime nausea was coming on strong. “I’m not feeling well.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  LANCE WAS GLAD ADRIENNE STAYED UNTIL THE END, SO HE wouldn’t have to delay what he needed to say. He walked Timmy to the door.

  “I love your excitement, Timmy. I hear the wonder of discovery.”

  “I didn’t realize faith could be such an intellectual pursuit,” Timmy said. “I was raised in a family of scientists and always thought religious people were hokey. No offense.”

  Lance chuckled. “I didn’t grow up in a family of scientists, and I thought they were hokey too.”

  Timmy tucked his hands in his pockets. “I really thought science and God lived on opposite poles. But after reading those books you recommended, by scientists . . .” He lapsed into thought for a moment. “I’m seeing what science shows us about God.” He opened the screen door. “I’d better go. I’ve got class in the morning.”

  “See you, Timmy.”

  Lance left the door ajar as he returned to the living room.

  “Hey, Lance,” Adrienne said, “we were wondering if you wanted to catch a movie with us tonight.” She looked at her watch. “Starts at 10:10. Darrin’s meeting us there.”

  “I can’t make it,” Lance said. He moved closer to Adrienne. “Can we talk a minute?”

  Adrienne got up and joined him in the entryway.

  Lance paused, desiring the right tone. “I want to apologize, because I think I must’ve given you the wrong impression.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

  “Maybe I’m mistaken,” Lance said. “But I think you may think there’s an opportunity for us to build something beyond friendship. And that’s not the case.” He added quickly, “But again, if I’m wrong, I’m sorry, and I’ll just be greatly embarrassed.”

  Adrienne smiled faintly. “I did think there was some chemistry between us,” she said. “And I debated hard about whether to come tonight, especially after being here so late Monday. But . . .” She sighed. “Now I’m greatly embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be,” Lance said. “I just wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings between us.”

  “So . . . did I do something to turn you away?” she said. “I thought we enjoyed one another’s company.”

  “It’s not that you did anything,” Lance said. “I just don’t want to do anything to hurt Kendra.”

  “Kendra? I thought you told me you two weren’t in a relationship.”

  “We weren’t at the time you asked,” Lance said. “Things have changed.”

  Adrienne hesitated. “Really? I guess that surprises me.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, given that she’s sick . . .”

  Lance wasn’t sure how to respond. “I understand that that matters to some.” He shrugged. “Bottom line is: I love her.”

  Adrienne’s eyes widened a little. “I feel bad then,” she said. “I was just talking to Kendra tonight and told her I didn’t know she was sick, but that now I understood why you said things were complicated—”

  “I’m sorry. I have to go,” Lance said. “Trey,” he called, “can you see them out, please?”

  Lance took the stairs by two, understanding now why Kendra looked the way she did on her way up. Actually, she hadn’t been herself all week. Lance suspected it had to do with Adrienne’s visit Monday, but Kendra hadn’t wanted to talk about it when he asked.

  He knocked lightly and, hearing nothing, peered in. The covers were pulled almost over Kendra’s head.

  “Kendra,” he whispered.

  She usually lay in bed for more than an hour before falling asleep, especially if she’d rested most of the day. But she didn’t budge.

  Lance leaned against the doorjamb, sighing, wishing he could clear this up tonight. He knew what would happen. Kendra would wake through the night, keep it steeping in her mind, and by morning, she’d feel that much worse.

  This was the last thing she needed before her appointment with Dr. Contee in the morning.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  KENDRA ALMOST WISHED SHE’D LET LANCE COME TO HER doctor’s appointm
ent, to help her understand. Dr. Contee was talking, but the words landed sparsely, as if choosing for themselves whether to reach Kendra or stop just short. And what did land, landed hard. She was reminded of June 17, a date seared on her brain, when she sat in Dr. Watson’s office. Her life before that bore no resemblance to life after. She had that feeling right now, like life was taking another big hit.

  “It’s not working?” Kendra said. “That’s what you’re basically saying, right? The chemo’s not working.”

  It was too much to comprehend. Weeks of industrial-strength chemo pumped into her body and knocking her flat on her back, with one thought pushing her through—that something was getting better, and then finding out it wasn’t . . .

  “It’s not that it’s not working,” Dr. Contee said. “We’re seeing some positive change. Just not to the extent we had hoped.”

  “Which means it’s not working.” Kendra’s head fell in her hand as more words sailed over and around her. Lord, why? This road is hard enough. Why can’t I get good news on the hard road? Why is everything on this road hard?

  “Kendra,” Dr. Contee said, “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. It’s not what I wanted to hear. This is an aggressive cancer, and as we discussed at the outset, I can’t give any guarantees.” She eyed Kendra with compassion. “But by changing your chemo cocktail for the next two sessions, I’m hoping for excellent results.”

  “Dr. Contee, I don’t even know what that means anymore—‘excellent’ results. What’s excellent? If it extends my life by two more months?”

  Kendra stood to go. She knew the answer.

  Dr. Contee rose as well and came around her desk. “You told me last month that you were praying regularly.” She hugged her. “I’m praying too. Keep the faith, Ken.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Contee.” Her voice was bare. “I know you’re doing the best you can.”

  Kendra’s phone vibrated as she left. Looking at it, she saw three text messages and as many missed calls from Lance, starting early this morning. She’d left the house at six, before anyone was up, tired of lying in bed under an avalanche of thoughts. But the thoughts buried her still as she drove around and ate at a breakfast spot. Now, with this latest news, it was hard to see daylight.