by Lynn Bulock
Fortunately Linnette was quite accommodating. “Sure, we can do that. I’d pretty much figured we would if you wanted to. Any chance that Dennis’s daughter and her mom will join us?”
“I can ask them. I need to call and let them know about all the other plans. But I kind of doubt they’re going to want to do anything social with me, especially if Heather is involved, as well.”
“Hey, God works in some strange ways in folks’ hearts sometimes,” Linnette said, sounding far more chipper than I could be today. “Plant the seed, anyway. It could happen.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And plan on us bringing all of the food. I have a feeling you never did go out and do a lot of grocery shopping and organize menus like we discussed, did you?”
“Not exactly.” I wasn’t about to tell her that dinner last night had been a frozen entrée I’d had to chip out of a freezer compartment in the garage. No use in upsetting somebody who was being this wonderful.
“Okay. I’ll call everybody else besides Heather, and the rest of Dennis’s family. See you tomorrow night a little before seven, all right?”
“Sounds good.” It sounded so much more than good. It sounded like having a home and a family again, something that had been sorely lacking in the past few weeks. And it even gave me the strength to call Heather and then Carol.
Heather was enthusiastic about coming. As I’d predicted, Carol wasn’t. She sounded like she couldn’t believe that somebody wanted to celebrate anything connected with her ex-husband’s life or death. She did promise to tell Becca all about it, but warned me that her daughter was working late that evening so she probably wouldn’t attend.
“What about Friday morning?” I almost held my breath waiting for her to answer. “Do you think Becca will want to say anything if we ask for remembrances from people?” If anybody had something kind to say about Dennis, it would have been either his daughter or his mother. At this point I was losing hope that his mother would even show up to attend the services.
There was quite a pause on the other end. “I can’t imagine it. Besides, Becca wants to bring Ollie so that I can come, too, and I don’t think Brandon’s going to be able to get off work on such short notice. So she won’t want to get up with a baby in her arms.”
“All right.” It was almost a relief to hear that. I’d rather think about the baby’s presence at the services than wonder what kind of loose-cannon remarks Becca might make. “I’ll see you then, I guess.”
“Looks like it.” She said goodbye and hung up without any more discussion. So there I was ready for another thrilling afternoon at the old homestead. Maybe, I thought, it was time to go back to class just to get my mind off of some of the rest of this. If I hurried I could catch the afternoon lecture section in my “Theories of Educational Psychology” class. Even that beat hanging around Edna’s living room staring at the walls. And if I timed things right, I could grab a latte with Linnette before she headed home.
11
On Thursday I actually went to both of my classes. It beat sitting in the house thinking about everything that was happening. Going to campus convinced me that if I worked hard at this, I didn’t have to worry about dropping my courses this semester. In the long run, the quicker that I got my act together and got my degree, the faster I’d be able to really support myself and Ben when he started college in the fall, wherever that would be.
Between classes I even went in to the Coffee Corner and talked to Maria. I think she would have hired me on the spot if I’d been available, but she was willing to give me another week to get my life together. We went over the various forms I would need, and she told me where to take copies to the graduate office so that my hours as a barista would be registered under work study. When I went over to tell Linnette about my success, she beamed.
“This is the kind of thing you need right now. You’ll have to tell everybody tonight. They’ll be happy for you.”
“I’ll make a point of it. Remind me if I forget, will you?”
“Definitely. See you before seven. I’ll be the one with the pan of lasagna.” Even if it was the frozen stuff from the warehouse store, I couldn’t begin to tell her how good that sounded. Just a homey meal with other people sounded like a grand idea.
When I came into the house that afternoon I somehow saw it with a stranger’s eyes when I walked through the door. It needed some work. So instead of studying for a couple hours I did all the things that Edna would have been doing all week, had she been here. All the newspapers I’d piled in the kitchen got recycled, the trash got dumped and I did a quick damp mop of the kitchen floor.
After that there was vacuuming, a little bit of dusting and even throwing in a couple of loads of laundry. It was amazing how much difference those few things made in the way the house looked, and in my attitude. Suddenly I was ready to think about the future again. It was almost as if I’d been drifting for a couple weeks since I’d met up with Linnette and gone to that first Christian Friends meeting. Now, I had a purpose, even if tonight that purpose was only to get through the next two days. After that I could move on from there when the time came.
I had time for a quick shower and even got a little bit of reading done on my psychology class assignments before the doorbell rang the first time at six forty-five. As promised, Linnette was there, and she had a sturdy nine-by-thirteen pan with her.
“Homemade lasagna? You really are my new best friend,” I told her, ushering her into the house.
“Hey, for most occasions the store-bought stuff does just fine, but this bunch is picky and I figured we needed the best we could get tonight.”
I had to agree with her. We put the oven on low and tucked in her meal, and stood in the kitchen getting plates and silver out while we waited for the others to show up. In the next twenty minutes they all came in. Dot had a big salad and a loaf of wonderful-smelling garlic bread with her, Heather came bearing several two-liter containers of soft drinks and Lexy brought brownies.
By about a quarter after seven we were all in Edna’s dining room, having the nicest gathering I’d ever been part of in that room. There hadn’t been too many events in that room in the time I’d lived here. Dennis was on the road too much when he was healthy, and Edna had given up any socializing once he’d had his accident. Other than the very tense Thanksgiving dinner that she and Ben and I had shared, I didn’t have much to compare this to.
Everybody passed food around, talking softly and visiting with their neighbors. We all fit well there, and even the others that we’d hoped to have had there would have fit pretty well. I wasn’t surprised that Carol had passed on the gathering, but was a little sad that Becca hadn’t chosen to join us. I still wanted to see if I couldn’t get to know her in a friendly kind of way. Maybe it just wasn’t ever going to happen.
The oddest missing person was Edna, any way you wanted to describe it. It was odd that she was still missing, and even when she turned up she’d probably be a bit odd. I had even less hope of ever knowing where she’d been for certain in the past ten days than I had of making friends with Becca. All these thoughts were still swirling around in my head when Linnette got us to pay attention long enough to say grace over dinner.
“Lord, thank You for bringing us together to support each other as we mourn the untimely passing of Dennis Peete and remember his life at the same time. Help Gracie Lee to find comfort. Help Heather to find peace. Thank You for leading both of them into our group of Christian Friends to enrich us all. Thank You for this time to be together, and for this food to nourish our bodies as we do Your work. In Jesus’ name we pray.”
Everybody gave a firm “Amen” and the next few minutes were filled with the busy work of dinner, passing grated cheese and salt and pepper, making sure everybody had a napkin, and the little things that I’d almost forgotten were part of a meal for a group of people. It felt like ages since I’d eaten with friendly folks.
Maybe that was what made the tears start. Or maybe it
was just everything hitting me at once. All I knew was that one moment I thought I was fine, and the next my eyes were burning and my throat was tight. I added very little to the conversation at the table, mostly listening while the others talked about church stuff.
Paula, we found out, was closing on a house deal tonight and so couldn’t have joined us. Her absence didn’t seem to be felt too badly by anybody. “How long has she been part of the group?” What I really wanted to ask was why she was there, since she seemed to be so tightly held together that I couldn’t imagine why she came.
“I guess about three years now. She comes and goes as she feels the need,” Linnette said.
Dot nodded. “Most of the time she’s stopped coming, but this time of year is hard for her, so she comes back for a while.” She looked over at Linnette. “Can I say more, as long as it’s something that anybody in the church or the community would know?”
Linnette nodded. “We’re not that confidential, just for stuff that only the group holds in common.”
Dot went on then. “Three years ago, Paula’s daughter was in a car with four other teenagers out for a ride. It was late at night and rainy and the driver hadn’t had his license for long. He wasn’t really legal yet to have other kids in the car with him, but he did, anyway.”
I didn’t like where this was going. The last thing I wanted was to feel sympathy for Paula. That probably made me a very bad person, but it was how I felt right now. It was so much easier to keep my image of her as mean, snarky and uptight instead of a hurt, grieving mother. Dot wasn’t letting me rest, though. “The police said that the driver of the SUV that hit them had a blood alcohol level that should have made him unconscious. Of course, he lived through the accident. Nobody in the car that Ashley was in did. Four of them, including Ashley, died at the scene. One of the girls in the back seat lived about a week.”
It was hard to imagine what Paula must have gone through. Maybe she’d been a perfectly happy, friendly person before her daughter’s death. I decided then and there I’d try and make the effort the next time I saw her to be more pleasant. It couldn’t hurt anything.
“Now my mother, on the other hand, was just as unpleasant before I came home single and pregnant as she is now,” Heather said, one side of her mouth quirking up in a wry grin. She looked around the table. “Well, it’s true and you would all probably admit it. I don’t think I’ve done anything to please her since the fourth grade talent show when I lost a tap off my shoe.”
“Moms usually want what’s best for their kids, or at least what they think is best,” Linnette said, defusing some of the tension a little. “It’s too bad that those aren’t always the same thing.”
“You’re telling me,” Heather said. “I’m really beginning to wonder whether I want to stay there once the baby’s born.”
“Your mother will probably adore having a grand-baby,” Dot said. “I know that I would. If you’re serious about looking for a place, I could offer you one, though.” Dot looked across the table at me. “That goes for either of you, actually.”
“Does this mean you’re ready to rent out the carriage house again?” Lexy asked her.
Dot chuckled. “That’s a very kind description, Alexis. I’d hardly call the apartment over our garage a carriage house.”
Lexy shook her head. “It’s way nicer than she’s told you, Gracie Lee. She and Buck built this apartment for Candace and a friend, as sort of a transition.”
“And eventually she transitioned out of it. It’s sat empty most of the time for about four years,” Dot explained. “It really needs some renovation, but if you could put up with that, there’s a place that would be big enough for either of you alone, or even the two of you if you needed it and that didn’t seem too…odd,” she finished.
“I’ll think about it. I need someplace else, and will have to move on soon. Even if Dennis’s mom walked in the door this evening, I can’t imagine we’d get along well together without him here.” It was the first time I’d admitted that out loud to somebody else. I’d thought it before, but never said it. The admission felt good. Maybe our differences were mostly my fault, but they were real. And admitting the problem out loud made the reality a solid thing.
“You were never meant to,” Linnette said. “He was the glue that held your relationship—such as it was—together.”
“And now he’s gone.” That was the first time I’d said that out loud, too, and I wasn’t prepared for the effect it had on me. He really was gone, wasn’t he? “Wow. Maybe I’ve just realized what that really means. He’s not coming back.”
Heather was nodding, and her eyes were full, but not running over. I could feel the tears on my own cheeks, and for a change I didn’t care. “When he was in the care center, there was at least a chance that he would come back someday. That I’d get a chance to tell him how angry I was with him, and how much I loved him at the same time.”
“It bothered me for months that the last thing I said to him was ‘Fine. Why don’t you just leave, then?’ and he did,” Heather said, sounding on the verge of a sob. “But once I’d seen him in that bed, I knew it wasn’t because of me that he’d left. It was his fault, too.
“When I saw him, I remembered the last thing he’d said to me. I’d told him I was pregnant, and he’d had the nerve to ask if it was his. ‘Of course it is,’ I’d said, ‘because there hasn’t ever been anybody else.’ Then he started yelling, asking me how I could be that stupid, and why did he stay? That’s when I told him to leave.”
Oh, Dennis. I wondered if there had ever been a woman in his life he hadn’t first charmed then wounded to the core, and used in the process. And at the same time here we were crying over him now that he was dead, and if Carol had been here, she would have been doing the same thing. It didn’t make any sense, yet here we were.
I was crying harder now and somebody was rubbing my shoulder. It was probably Linnette, but I didn’t even look up. “What am I going to do?” I asked the room in general. “I’ve got no money, a kid to support who is ready to go to college, no job to speak of, nothing. I’m living in a house I probably have no right to be in, and Dennis cheated me out of thirty thousand dollars and then died. What on earth am I going to do?”
There was silence for a while, and a little sniffling joining mine. Then Dot stood up from her place across the table from me and came over to pat the shoulder that Linnette wasn’t rubbing. “I was waiting for you to ask that. You’re going to survive, sweetie. It’s what women have been doing since Eve. You’re going to survive, with God’s help and guidance, and we’re all here to get you through it.”
Knowing at that moment that everybody in this room had been as down as I was now, at least once, should have helped. It really should have. But it didn’t right away, and so those wonderful women surrounding me just let me bawl like a baby for a good solid half hour before they told me to settle down and broke out the brownies.
“You are not staying here alone tonight,” Heather was the one to say firmly about nine-thirty when things began to wind down.
For once I couldn’t argue with her. I had no desire to spend tonight alone in this house. “You’re right, but I can’t leave. There’s still the off chance that Edna could come home, and I don’t want to be gone if she does.” Of course it was the slimmest of chances, but it was still possible, so I hung on to it.
“I know. I figured you’d say that, and I kind of thought something like this might happen,” she said, gesturing at the crumpled tissues littering the table and floor around me. “So I packed an overnight bag.”
It sounded wonderful to have her company, but I felt a stab of guilt at the same time. “I hate to ask you to do this.”
“Lexy and Dot have somebody waiting for them at home. My mom didn’t exactly sound unhappy to have me gone for the night. I think she misses the peace and quiet she’s used to.” Heather sounded wistful and I wondered if it was because her mom didn’t necessarily want her there, or if she missed
her own peace and quiet back in the apartment she’d lived in before.
Linnette made a wry face. “I’d offer to stay with you two, but I have to get up about five and go into the bookstore. If I’m going to duck out at ten for the funeral, I have to go in early and make sure that everything’s ready to start inventory.”
“You’re a good friend. You put all this together, and now you’re getting up before it’s even light just to help me out again tomorrow. We’ll be fine,” I told her, looking around in awe at the wonderful bunch of women God had sent me. It was very clear by now that God had sent them to me, or me to them, however we wanted to put it. “Go home and get into bed before you have to get back up again.”
Linnette wrinkled her nose. “I will. But I first want to make sure you two are okay.” She looked thoughtful for a minute. “Are you going to get any sleep at all?”
I shrugged. “I can try, anyway. Maybe with having somebody else here it will be easier.”
“Didn’t the doctor ever give you anything in all these months to settle your nerves or help you sleep?” Dot asked. “It seems like that’s the first thing they do nowadays.”
“Now that you mention it, I do have something.” There had been a doctor at the Board and Care who had been very concerned about me, as well as Dennis, in his first days there. When she’d questioned me about whether I was eating and sleeping, I’d admitted I wasn’t doing much of either, and she’d written me a prescription and nagged me into filling it. I’d taken three or four nights’ worth of the tablets, then gotten into a better routine and they’d sat unused in the medicine cabinet.
“Since you have company tonight, it might be the time to take something, then,” Linnette said. “Tomorrow’s going to be rough, and it would help if you got a good night’s sleep.”
