The two of them rocked with laughter at the insane thought of it, and Martha couldn’t imagine anyone better to share the building with than her old schoolfriend.
Mike and Patrick and Alice had come over on the Friday night after school and work to see it. She was disappointed that her older daughter didn’t consider it important enough to miss going to the cinema with her friends, but supposed that at thirteen, like many of the girls of her age, adults and their concerns were of little interest. Evie had been good enough to give Martha a set of keys and told her to take as much time as she wanted to make her decision.
‘It’s kind of small, Mom, isn’t it!’ Patrick blurted out after a whirlwind run through the place.
‘Patrick, have a good look, please. This is really important to me and I value your opinion.’
This time he walked around more slowly looking at everything, checking the light switches and the faucets in the sink and even the floorboards. Mike and Martha smiled at each other, both realizing that he was at times beginning to act like a grown-up and they needed to respect that about their son. Alice was in raptures, having found a whole cardboard box full of patterns of Evie’s; she liked the one of a horse and its foal the best. A bundle of stretched tapestries, awaiting their frames, lay against the wall of the largest room and, curious, Alice hunkered down and sorted through them.
Mike had brought a measuring tape and a notebook with him and scribbled down details with his pencil. Martha watched him out of the corner of her eye and wondered how she had ever managed to marry such an organized and responsible man.
‘Well, love, what do you think?’
Mike moved off into the other room, leaving her to trail along beside him.
‘Mike, you didn’t say anything!’
Sometimes her husband could be so infuriating. She could try and guess what he was thinking but with the male mind who could tell? Did he like the place or not? He was walking around as if he was some sort of professional building surveyor or architect she’d employed instead of being her husband and partner. All she wanted to know was his gut reaction to the place. She always trusted her own instincts and knew she certainly liked it, but wanted his opinion.
‘Patrick, what do you think?’
Her son ambled over, his dark head bent forward as he peered through the window.
‘I think it’s sort of neat, Mom. If it weren’t going to be for your office it wouldn’t be half bad as an apartment. It’s so near to everything, the T line, the café, the diner – just about everything. Yet it’s not too noisy because of the one-way system and this side of the street being pedestrianized. If it were me, I definitely think you should go for it.’
Martha nodded, pleased.
‘Alice?’
Tossing her long fair hair back off her shoulder, Alice turned and gave the question her undivided attention.
‘I think it would be nice for you and Aunt Evie to work so close together. You are best friends for ever and it would be fun! Wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes, honey, I’m sure it’d be fun.’
‘She’d be downstairs and you’d be upstairs!’
Mike sauntered over to join them.
‘Well?’
‘Well what, Martha? I can’t understand why we’re even here, looking into this. Why should you want to have a business or rooms or whatever?’
‘Mike, we’ve been through all this!’ Martha tried to keep the exasperation from her voice. ‘I can do my healing from here,’ she reminded him, ‘which means that people will come here and not to our home. I thought that’s what you wanted? They can make appointments to come for a healing session. It won’t be rushed or disturbed and I can organize it properly, run it professionally . . .’
‘Like a business,’ he said sarcastically. ‘You are not a businesswoman, Martha.’
‘I never said I was,’ she admitted. ‘I’m just a healer and as you so kindly pointed out you are fed up with all the sick and weird people that seem to congregate around me, and around our home.’
‘You know right well what I meant, don’t go trying to twist my words and meanings, that’s not fair! I work damned hard all day to keep our family, and I’ll be damned if I have to sink a dime of my hard-earned cash into this place, the retreat for lost souls who want to see the blessed Martha!’
Martha recoiled in shock, resisting the urge to smack him across his smug face, remembering their children were in the room.
Patrick stared straight at them, unbelieving. ‘You two!’
Instantly they both felt ashamed.
‘Hey, Alice, how about we go across the street and see if we can get a malt?’ he offered.
Martha flinched, seeing the look of wariness in her young daughter’s eyes.
‘You go with Patrick, honey, your dad and I are just trying to sort out a few things. It’s not as bad as it seems, honest.’
Mike rooted round his trouser pockets for some loose change, passing it to Patrick as they left. She gazed through rather dirty glass watching her children cross the street safely and slip into the Easton Diner.
‘Evie wants to let me have the place for almost nothing, so it’ll cost you zip, but in time I hope to pay my way,’ she said firmly. Her husband was surprised. ‘You’ve made it more than clear you want the healing out of the house, not disturbing you or the children! Well, I happen to agree with you. This place might be the solution. I can work from here. A few hours a day only while Alice is at school. I’ll see a limited amount of people and will be back home by the time they all get in.’
‘Why can’t things just stay the way they were always?’ he said softly, his grey-blue eyes looking into hers. The laughter lines and creases there had now become wrinkles. How had she not noticed that before? She lay beside him night after night and woke up to his face beside hers on the pillow every morning. Was she that unobservant?
‘I don’t know, Mike. Why do kids grow up? Why do cute babies become crazy teenagers and when did we stop listening at night to see if they were still breathing? Everything changes, it has to, otherwise we’d be stuck back with diapers and bottles in our “Power to the People” T-shirts. Did you want me to walk by Timmy Lucas and leave him to die surrounded by strangers, for God’s sake, he’s the same age as our Alice.’
‘No, I know you couldn’t, wouldn’t do that. It’s just that I feel everything has changed.’
‘How do you mean?’ she said, standing in front of him. ‘We still love each other, love our kids. What has changed, Mike, I honestly wish you’d tell me!’
‘This whole healing thing, I guess I’m afraid it’s going to take you away from me and the kids. It’s just not part of our plan.’
‘Plan?’
‘Yeah, our plan.’
Martha couldn’t believe it! Mike was talking about something they usually talked about when they were snuggled on the couch, relaxed after a few cold beers or lying in bed after hot, heavy lovemaking.
‘The plan that when the kids were old enough you would go back to college and do a Master’s in psychology, write up papers on the areas that interested you, work a bit and take time out to develop your career,’ he said stubbornly. ‘That plan!’
Martha didn’t know what to say. The realization that her husband basically wanted to map out her life for the next twenty years or so almost freaked her out. Everything Mike did was so organized and well thought out, he just couldn’t seem to handle spontaneity and its repercussions.
‘Mike, I hate to inform you but I think that plan has just gone out the window as something rather more important has happened in my life. Can you understand that?’ she insisted. ‘I have been given this blessing, this power to help and heal people. I didn’t ask for it or look for it but somehow or other I have been chosen to do this work.’
Mike looked embarrassed, his hands shifting into his trouser pockets, a gesture that had always given him away ever since they first dated. Whenever they’d had a row or argument and it came time to say sorry or make up, Mike fou
nd it so hard to admit he was wrong or climb down. He was still the same.
‘Mike, I love you and all I’m asking is for you to give me a bit of support and to back me up. I know full well I’m not a businesswoman, you don’t have to remind me of that, but I do know what I’m doing when I heal people. The feeling is so strong, so good that I feel energized and connected to them. I like talking to people, trying to understand them and find out what is going on in their lives. I think that also might be a big part of it, giving people time.’
‘Ah Jeez, Mar! I’m such a selfish bastard!’
She smiled despite herself, a laugh escaping into the stillness between them.
‘You don’t have to agree with me!’ he said defensively.
‘Mike, I’m still me and nothing is going to change that,’ she pledged, wrapping her arms around his neck.
By the time the kids got back Mike had worked out a few pricing details on a sheet of paper and made some suggestions.
‘Are you sure you’re happy about this?’ he pressed her. ‘That you’re not taking on too much?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine about it. You were right, our family time together is precious and should be private. Renting here will solve the problem of people abusing our home situation and if they want or need a phone number or address to contact me, well, this will be it!’
‘Is Evie OK about all this?’
‘Mike, she was the one suggested it!’
‘OK! OK! It’s just that landlord and tenant is a different relationship than being friends, you realize that.’
‘Yeah! And we’re both fine about it.’
Any qualms Martha had about this new undertaking were resolved. She could hardly wait to get home and phone Evie with the good news.
Kathleen’s older boy Joe and a friend had agreed to paint the place. They were trying to set up on their own as a decorating service and were touting for customers. Evie and Martha split the cost and were more than pleased with the resulting soft pecan-coloured walls and warm cream woollen drapes.
She took an old couch from their den and covered it with a navy throw and huge squashy cushions, with a rather modern elmwood desk and chair for herself. Framed photos from a gallery in Quincy Market of the sea, sky and earth seemed to sit well together and were a constant reminder of her healing mission.
Mike helped her to organize a new phone listing and in the smaller room they placed two simple chairs and an old coffee table of Evie’s.
‘Just in case someone is waiting,’ she suggested.
To Martha it felt sort of scary having a place that was her own, like an office. She was used to the jumble of family life and tried to imagine herself arriving calmly at number 143 to try and deal with people who had a crisis in their life, and the responsibility it would involve.
Evie sensed her nervousness.
‘Martha, do you not remember how bad I was when I was opening the shop, I was sure not a sinner would cross the threshold for months and that I’d be declared a bankrupt! Thank God it all worked out and now I couldn’t imagine not having the store! You’ll see, after a few weeks, coming here and walking up the stairs will just become part of your routine. You already have a notebook full of people only desperate to see you, so you won’t be sitting twiddling your thumbs, I can guarantee that.’
Martha hugged her friend, wondering how she had been so lucky to have been put beside Evie O’Connor on her very first day of school. The two of them had been inseparable ever since and had shared the ups and downs in each other’s lives. When Martha’s father had died from a bleeding ulcer brought on from his constant abuse of alcohol, it was Evie who had listened to her rant and scream about how glad she was her father was dead and it was Evie who had eventually soaked a towel in cold water and placed it over her tear-sodden swollen eyes and held her till she fell asleep on the night before his funeral. You didn’t forget a friend like that.
By the end of the week, everything was just the way she wanted it and the table she had ordered had arrived. Looking around her, Martha liked the clear simple lines she had created and hoped that nothing would distract her from her purpose – healing! Mike and the family all gave the place the seal of approval. Kim and Rianna had arrived with a huge bunch of white lillies and a magnificent dried floral arrangement of stretching dark wood branches, interesting violets and pale blue forget-me-nots.
‘We came to wish you luck!’ they chorused and gasped with admiration when they saw the result of all the hard work.
‘Makes a big difference from all Evie’s junk,’ remarked Kim. ‘This place really looks something now.’
Martha smiled, hoping she had managed to create a space that those in need of her help would feel soothed and relaxed in.
‘It’s just fine and dandy,’ her mother declared, giving herself the great tour of inspection before sinking into the comfort of the couch. ‘You did a wonderful job here, Martha pet, and I’m right proud of you.’
Martha smiled. Her mother was not generally given to fulsome praise. ‘Thanks, Mom, I’m glad that you like it.’
‘You know something? I always felt that you were a little bit different.’
‘Different!’
‘No, I just mean that you were going to do something different from the rest of the family!’
Different – this sure was different. Never had she imagined herself having such a calling.
On that first morning when she put her key in the lock and walked upstairs to her rooms her heart beat so fast that she could almost have convinced herself that she had a heart complaint. She resisted the urge to sneak down to Evie’s and sit curled up in a chair gossiping, and settled herself at her desk drawing out the bundles of letters she had received that weekend. Kim had offered to help her file some of them and sort them out in terms of urgency, depending on the well-being of the writer or the person they were concerned about.
Martha sighed, reading of the sheer desperation of the family of a sufferer of terminal cancer of the oesophagus who had somehow or other heard of her and were willing to fly with the patient from Sacramento to Boston in the hope of seeing her. The condition of the almost fifty-year-old husband seemed far too serious for them to contemplate such a journey. Martha turned on the laptop and began to compose a letter to his distraught wife and sons telling them this and promising to pray for him.
Louisa Roberts was her first appointment and Martha greeted the sixty-year-old warmly. ‘Well, Louisa, what do you think?’
‘You have a beautiful home, Martha, but I think here is a special place for you to do your healing work.’
‘How are you doing?’
‘I’m doing great! That shoulder of mine hasn’t given me one bit of bother since you laid your hands on it and now I was wondering if you could do the same for my knee.’ Without prompting she rolled up the leg of her pale lilac polyester trousers and shoved the discoloured swollen kneecap towards Martha. ‘It’s giving me right torment at the moment and I can hardly go outside at all with the pain from it. The old steroids and tablets the doctor gave me don’t seem to work so good no more.’
‘Louisa, you must keep taking the tablets the doctor prescribed for you but if you want I will lay my hands on the knee and see if it can in any way help.’
There was utter trust in the older woman’s eyes as Martha touched her and began the healing session. Louisa had such faith that the healing would remove the swelling from her knee that Martha could feel the intense heat that seemed to be drawn into the ageing tissues and muscles and joint. Working together both of them felt the healing energy as they said a few words of simple prayer.
Afterwards Martha realized that healing filled her with a unique joy and sense of the spirit and a deep gratitude that she had been called to do this work.
Chapter Twenty-five
BETH ARMSTRONG PHONED that Wednesday, all excited and nervous, the words tumbling from her mouth, as she told Martha the good news.
‘She’s got a heart! Cass is getting
a new heart!’
The transplant team from Children’s Hospital had confirmed they’d found a perfect donor match for her daughter and Cass was already being prepared for surgery.
‘I still can’t believe it! Can you come by the hospital and see her?’ Beth pleaded anxiously.
‘Honest, Beth, I don’t think that it’s my place to interfere. Cass needs the doctors and nurses to look after her right now and get her through her surgery. You know she’s in good hands. Why, I’d only be in their way.’
‘What about healing?’
‘Healing?’
‘Yes, I was hoping that you could lay your hands on her at the start of the operation.’
‘Beth, Cass has had healing, and now it’s time to let the medical team do their work.’
‘But it’s bound to help, Martha, you being there, and my little girl needs all the help that she can get!’
‘Beth, calm down. You’ve got to trust the surgeons,’ she advised her gently. ‘I’ll pray for Cass, I promise, but it’s not my place to be there, honest it’s not.’
‘So you’re saying that you won’t come when she needs you the most,’ argued Beth Armstrong.
‘No, I’m not saying that at all. I know how hard it must be for you all, I can imagine how I’d feel if one of my kids was facing such a big operation, but me being there isn’t going to help. I’m sorry,’ whispered Martha.
There was a stony silence on the other end of the line and Martha could almost sense the other woman’s desperation and fearfulness.
‘I’m sorry, Beth,’ she repeated.
A few hours later Martha found herself kneeling in a bench in her parish church, enjoying the peace and stillness that a visit to St John’s always brought her. She gazed up at the grey marble altar and the ornately carved cross; light slanting in through the stained glass windows above her sprinkled dashes of purple, pink, gold and blue along the wooden floor. A statue of Mary, the mother of Jesus, gazed down at her, opposite St Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, in his green and gold bishop’s robes. This place was an oasis of spirituality in a busy world, removed from the traffic and noise and constant music and sound that assaulted daily life. A place to come and offer silent prayer.
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