by Neta Jackson
A shoe thumped on the floor. “Mmm. I know.”
“I’m sorry I got so angry. It’s just—”
He stood up and put a finger on her lips. “You don’t have to say any more. I think I understand why you got upset. I’m sorry the weekend worked out the way it did. I know it was hard on you, me laid up and you having to take Tabby all the way to Indiana and back by yourself. Not sure what we could’ve done different but . . . I’m sorry.”
She nodded and leaned against his chest as he put his arms around her. She was so tired. Too tired to talk. They had things to talk about but . . . not now.
Chapter 33
Estelle Bentley called her cell the next day, said she was sorry to bother Michelle at work, but did she want to get together to pray at Grace’s house again tonight?
Tuesday. Right. Seemed like a month had gone by since the last prayer time during that big storm. Jared’s triple shifts . . . last day of school . . . taking Tabby’s box of toys to Candy Blackwell . . . Jared’s back spasm . . . driving to Indiana and back on Father’s Day . . . the fight with Jared . . .
“I think so. Tabby’s gone for the week and Jared will be at work, so it’s just the boys and me tonight.” And she really could use some extra prayer. Jared had gotten up before eight that morning to check on Destin and his job hunt, and she’d left the house with both of them arguing.
“Just one thing,” Estelle said, “hope you don’t mind, but there’ll be someone else there—Ramona.”
“Ramona!” Michelle could hardly believe her ears. “She’s staying with Grace now?”
“For now. Still not sure it’s the best thing, but . . . I know you’re at work, so we can fill you in later.”
Sure enough, when Grace opened the door for Michelle at seven that evening, Ramona was curled up on the couch holding Grace’s black-and-white cat on her lap. “Ramona.” Michelle smiled at the girl. “I’m glad to see you again.”
“Buenas noches, Miss Michelle,” Ramona said shyly. “So you live next door to Miss Grace? And Miss Estelle lives across the street?” Her voice turned wistful. “Wish I lived here. Almost like my grandparents’ village in Mexico."
Michelle exchanged a glance with Estelle and Grace. She couldn’t imagine that any neighborhood in Chicago was like a small village in Mexico where families had lived for generations. Though, getting to know some of her neighbors in recent months had certainly changed how she felt about Beecham Street. More like a small town.
She was curious about the decision to bring Ramona to Grace’s house instead of staying at the shelter, but she didn’t want to ask in front of the girl. But the story came out anyway. The guy—Max—had shown up at the shelter again, this time at breakfast time when most of the women were still on site, and had bullied his way in, looking for Ramona. Fortunately, the dining area was on the lower level, and some of the other women had time to hide Ramona in a tiny office before he thundered downstairs. He’d left when the person on security called 911.
Ramona giggled. “Never thought I’d see a woman stand up to Max, but Sarge—”
“Sarge?” Michelle raised an eyebrow.
Estelle grinned. “She used to be a sergeant in the army. Knows how to throw her weight around. She’s our nighttime security.”
“But what about this Max having Grace’s phone number on his cell?” That had been one of the concerns Estelle raised last week when Grace brought up this idea, because Ramona had used his cell to call the number Grace had given to her. Michelle was concerned about Ramona’s safety, of course—but she didn’t like the idea of bringing that kind of danger to Beecham Street, either. “I mean, what if—”
Estelle shook her head. “Don’t worry, honey. Harry found out the CPD is holding Max’s cell phone as evidence until the trial. Detectives are following up on a lot of his phone contacts, trying to bust the whole drug ring wide open. But bottom line, he doesn’t have that cell phone, so doesn’t have the number Ramona used to call Grace from the train.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Grace said stubbornly. “I canceled that number today and got a new one. Should’ve done it weeks ago.” She leaned over and laid a hand on Ramona’s knee. “I’m glad you’re here, sweetie. So is Oreo, I can tell.”
Ramona lifted the cat and nuzzled its fur. “I like cats. Never had one of my own.” Then she eyed Grace. “But what happens when you get married? I mean, that Jeff guy calls here twice a day!”
“Oooo,” Michelle and Estelle said together, then laughed.
Grace reddened. “Hey! I meant to tell you, young lady, what happens in this house stays in this house.” But a grin tipped her mouth. “Besides, he’s my agent too, we have business to discuss . . . and we’re not even engaged.”
“Yet!” Michelle and Estelle chorused again. By now all four of them were laughing.
“All right, all right,” Estelle finally said, still chuckling. “We’ve got a lot of things to pray for—like Eva and Karl Molander next door to us, who are still trying to get things back to normal after their basement flooded last week during that storm.”
“The Molanders’ basement flooded last Tuesday?” Michelle was surprised. “I didn’t know.”
Estelle nodded. “I didn’t either, not till I got home after our prayer time and saw Harry and some of the guys from his Bible study over there tryin’ to salvage their stuff. It was too much for Karl to handle. He has some heart issues, you know. And Eva’s upset. Some of the things they had stored in the basement were ruined.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Michelle felt a tad guilty. The Molanders were the oldest couple on the block—except for Mattie Krakowski, of course—but it’d never crossed her mind to check on them during that awful storm last week. Just like it had never crossed her mind to check on Mattie last winter after the snowstorm—and look what happened.
O God. Whatever happened to “love your neighbor”? But her own plate was so full! Work, church, three teenagers, Jared’s crazy schedule, the crisis pregnancy center, her post-abortion group, the women’s ministry at Northside . . . She couldn’t do everything, couldn’t be everywhere at once, could she?
“Any other neighborhood concerns?” Estelle was asking.
Well, she could mention the Singers . . . “Nicole Singer was disappointed that Tabby couldn’t babysit this week, because she’s trying to get some part-time work and her husband is away at a conference. I know job transitions can be hard. I’m sure they could use our prayers.”
“Really?” Estelle looked thoughtful. “I thought I saw . . . never mind. Yes, of course, we should keep the Singer family covered in prayer. Greg went with Harry once to his men’s Bible study—that would be good support for him if he’d make it regular. I’ll encourage Harry to ask him again. And maybe we should ask Nicole if she’d like to join us. Would that be all right with the rest of you?”
Grace nodded and Ramona shrugged. “Whatever. Not my show.”
Michelle wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well,” she hedged, “if you think it’s a good idea.” She hadn’t been praying with Grace and Estelle that long herself and was just beginning to feel comfortable. Now Ramona was here. Add Nicole Singer and it would take a while to feel safe enough to share openly—though she wasn’t sure why.
Estelle had moved on. “Grace, don’t you have some concerts coming up soon?”
Grace nodded and mentioned the dates. Estelle must have seen the worried glance Grace sent in Ramona’s direction, because Estelle jumped in with, “Don’t you worry about Ramona. She can stay with us while you’re gone. Might have to sleep on the couch, but you won’t mind for just a couple nights, will you, honey?” Ramona shook her head and Grace looked relieved.
“Michelle? How is Jared’s back spasm?” Estelle’s question turned all eyes her way.
“Better so far. But it ruined our weekend plans . . .” Michelle found herself spilling her pent-up frustrations from the past week. “We even had a huge fight when I got home from Indiana.” She made a face. “And it
’s our anniversary tomorrow—our twentieth, believe it or not, and—”
“Twentieth!” Estelle clapped her hands. “You go, girl!”
Grace and Ramona joined in with congratulations. “Oh, you have to do something special!” Grace said.
“Well, that’s something you can pray about too. Jared hasn’t even mentioned our anniversary, but I’m hoping to talk to him about it tomorrow. Really, it’ll be the first chance we’ve had to talk since . . . I don’t know when!” She couldn’t help adding, “Although it’s prayer meeting night at church, and Jared never misses. Except he did miss last week, when he came home exhausted from triple shifts at the control tower. So he’s probably going to feel duty-bound. He’s a deacon at our church. You know how it is.”
Estelle nodded her head knowingly. “Sister, some things are more important than church prayer meetings. But not more important than prayer . . . so let’s pray. Come on, honey”—Estelle held out a hand to Ramona—“we’re gonna pray for you too.”
* * *
Before she left, Michelle worked up the courage to ask Estelle if she’d be willing to let both boys sleep over again Friday night so she could spirit her husband away for their anniversary. “Of course, honey,” the older woman said. “You just made DaShawn’s day. I think Harry’s on an overnight run for Amtrak that night, so I’ll be glad for the company.”
Jared came home by eleven that evening, even though he had to be back at work at six the next morning. “Figured a few hours in my own bed would be easier on my back than those awful bunks at the airport,” he murmured, turning out the light Michelle had left on for him and crawling into bed beside her.
“Mmm.” She snuggled close. “Just in case you sneak off in the morning without waking me . . . happy anniversary.”
“What? Tomorrow?” Jared raised up on one elbow to face her in the darkness. “What’s tomorrow . . . the twenty-third? Oh, man, can’t believe I forgot. And it’s our twentieth too, right?” He groaned as he flopped down again. “Oh, man, don’t tell the guys in the tower I forgot, or I will never live it down.”
She almost retorted, Don’t worry about the guys in the tower, worry about me not letting you live it down . . . but she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. “Don’t worry,” she cooed, “I’ve got it covered. Tell you tomorrow.” And she rolled over on purpose, back to him.
“Can’t tell me now?”
She yawned. “Nope. Too tired. Tomorrow.”
By his heavy breathing a few minutes later, Jared obviously wasn’t going to lose any sleep over forgetting. Well, so what. She’d almost forgotten herself. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate this weekend, if all went according to plan . . .
And he was gone in the morning when her alarm went off at six. But there was a sticky note stuck to the bathroom mirror in the basement when she stumbled downstairs for her shower. Happy 20th, Gumdrop! And another on the coffeepot. Let’s sign up for another 20!
She smiled as she gathered her things together for work. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly poetry, but he was trying. Good thing they weren’t trying to celebrate today anyway, because the weather report said periodic thunderstorms all day.
A loud crack from the heavens underscored the weatherman.
The house was still quiet . . . no Destin up early today. Had Jared given him a break? Or was it just too early when he left for the airport to drag the kid out of bed? Just as well. Michelle wouldn’t like Destin to be out and about on his bike during a thunderstorm.
It rained on and off all day, making Michelle’s case visits a bit challenging, but at least it wasn’t drenching rains like last week. Still, she thought of the Molanders as she drove up Beecham Street at five thirty. Had their basement dried out? Hopefully they’d gotten their sump pump to work again.
Jared was on the kitchen phone when she came in and he motioned her over. “It’s Tabby,” he stage-whispered and handed the phone to her, at the same time pointing proudly to a bright-colored bouquet of mums and daisies on the dining room table. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart. And I ordered in so you wouldn’t have to cook. Should be here in a few minutes.”
Michelle gave him a smile and took the phone. He was definitely trying.
“Mom?” Her daughter’s voice was breathless. “I was just telling Dad that this camp is so cool. The lady that Bibi knows from their church? She’s really good. You should see the stunts she taught us, and she even gave me a thumbs-up today . . .” Tabby rattled on for five minutes with hardly a pause for breath before saying, “Oh, yeah, Bibi wants to say something . . .”
The phone must’ve been handed off, because the next thing Michelle heard was her father and mother warbling, “Happy anniversary to youuu . . .” in her ear. She motioned to Jared to listen too, but the doorbell rang and he had to hustle off to pay the delivery guy.
The delivery was Crab & Shrimp Cannelloni from Maggiano’s and a large Italian salad. “Boys! Come and get it!” Jared yelled, hustling around to put plates and silverware on the table as the boys slid into their chairs. He seated Michelle and gave her a lopsided grin as he dished up the pasta. “Best I could do on short notice, with prayer meeting tonight and everything.”
Okay. Prayer meeting tonight. Not that she was surprised. “Yep. Not the best night to celebrate an anniversary. Which is why we’re doing this instead.” She fished out the anniversary card she’d bought with the folded sheet of paper inside.
Jared read the card, leaned over, gave her a kiss, and then unfolded the paper. “What’s this?” He read the computer printout. “A reservation for a bed-and-breakfast in South Bend?” He looked up. “I thought we had to go pick up Tabby this weekend from your folks’.”
“We do. Which is why I picked a bed and breakfast kinda on the way to Fort Wayne.” She smiled smugly. “See? It’s for Friday night. You and I can drive to Indiana Friday evening to the B&B, go out for dinner, sleep in, have a leisurely morning—the website says they make a big, scrumptious breakfast—and then drive down to Fort Wayne to pick up Tabby and come home later that afternoon. What do you think?” She was grinning at her perfect plan.
“Gee, honey, it’s really a great idea . . .” He peered at the printout again. “Uh, is that really the price for just one night?” He looked a little bug-eyed.
She backhanded him on the arm. “Jared Jasper. It’s our twentieth anniversary. Some people take cruises, or . . . or trips to Europe. We can certainly do one night at a bed-and-breakfast.” Besides, she’d already put it on the credit card.
“Uh, happy anniversary an’ all that,” Tavis broke in, “but can somebody say a blessing for the food so we can eat?”
Chapter 34
Michelle didn’t particularly want to go to prayer meeting, but she’d missed church on Sunday, so it’d probably be good to show up. Besides, it was one way to spend time with Jared. Sorta.
It was also a good chance to see her friend Norma and some of the other sisters who faithfully attended the women’s ministry events each month—though she didn’t appreciate Sister Betty’s guilt trip when the heavyset woman asked, “Where’re the twins and that big boy of yours? They’re old enough to come to prayer meeting.” Sister Betty always brought her kids to prayer meeting, even though the youngest was only four and the oldest eleven.
“Uh, they usually have homework on weeknights.”
“Well, school’s out now, you know!” the woman said before herding her four kids into the second pew.
Arrgh. What Northside really needed was to start up the middle school and high school youth groups again, both of which had been abandoned after their youth minister left last year. Schedule youth groups on Wednesday nights, and she’d bring the twins and Destin . . . at least during the summer. Though she was not going to suggest it to Jared. He’d mention it to the pastor and Pastor Q would toss it back to him. “Great idea. Make it happen, Brother Jared.”
“Girl,” Norma leaned forward and stage-whispered from the pew behind her, “i
t’s been too long since we’ve had any girl time. What’re you doin’ this Saturday?”
Michelle shook her head. “Out of town. Our anniversary. And picking up Tabby from camp.”
“Ohmigosh, that’s right! Twentieth, right? Well, how ’bout next Saturday?”
Again Michelle shook her head. “Starting up a new PA group at Lifeline next week. And, you know, grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning the house. Maybe we could try a Sunday afternoon?”
Big sigh from behind her. “Not good. You know my mother-in-law—we all supposed to show up every week for Sunday dinner. Mama calls, Gentry and his siblings say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ A few other strange relations usually show up too. We don’t get out of there until maybe four or five.” A moment later Norma leaned forward again. “Did I say ‘strange’? I meant ‘stray’.” Her friend snickered loudly.
Michelle caught Jared’s slight frown from the front where he and the other deacons were sitting, and focused her attention on Pastor Q’s devotional, but she had to fight to stay awake. Still, the prayer meeting got over by eight thirty. They’d be home by nine—
“Brother Jared, hold on a minute.” Pastor Q hustled toward them as Jared and Michelle gradually shook-hands-and-hugged their way toward the foyer. “Came in the mail this morning. Pretty fast if you ask me.” He handed a bulky white envelope to Jared.
“What’s this?” Jared peered at the return address. Michelle looked too. Moody Theological Seminary.
“Materials for your seminary application. I told you I’d ordered them at the deacons’ meeting last Sunday. Look them over, tell me what you think.” Pastor Q beamed. “And by the way, church calendar says congratulations are in order. Twenty years married! Hope you two have big plans to celebrate.”
Michelle found herself wrapped in a bear hug from the pastor before he broke away and cheerfully hailed someone else. She eyed Jared. But he just took her elbow and steered her outside, dodging rain puddles until they climbed into the Altima.
