by Mary Manners
“Oh...well...” She reached for the bowl. Maybe she could force a few spoonfuls down. The concoction did smell wonderful, after all. “I wouldn’t want to do that.” She dipped the spoon, brought a mouthful to her lips. “Mmm...this is good.”
“Grandma says it’s a special recipe. She got it from her mother who got it from her mother. It’ll cure whatever ails you.”
“Even a broken heart?” The words slipped out, and Jade instantly regretted them. She swallowed hard, and the soup threatened to come back up.
Carly’s eyes darkened, and she looked away. When she spoke her voice was uncharacteristically timid. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” Jade held the soup bowl with both hands. The broth warmed her cold fingertips through delicate china. “Ask whatever you want.”
Carly fidgeted and glanced toward the doorway. Mrs. D’atello’s voice drifted their way as she sang Amazing Grace. “What do you think happens after...you know?”
“After we...die?” The word came with difficulty, but Jade was determined to let Carly talk. The girl still had a long way to go to heal, but she was making progress each day.
“Yeah. That. There’s gotta be something more than...just lying in the ground.”
Jade’s belly did an uneasy flip. She tried not to think about Mama closed up in the casket, buried beneath a dark, cold layer of earth. “I certainly hope so.”
“Grandma says she’s not afraid of dying. But it scares me. I mean, what if all the talk about Heaven isn’t true? What if she dies and I never get to see her again?”
“Have you spoken about this with Shane?”
“Yeah. I mean, kind of. But I don’t want to ask too much. Won’t he think I’m a bad person if I question stuff? Maybe he’ll get mad at me.”
“Shane would never get angry with you for asking questions. Surely you know him better than that by now. He likes to talk—”
“Boy, isn’t that the truth!”
“And you can trust him. He can help you to understand better.”
Carly sighed and flopped back against the cushions. “Everyone seems so sure about things. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who doubts.”
“You’re not, Carly. Believe me. Lots of people have doubts. They just don’t talk about them.”
“Why not?”
Jade shrugged. “Probably because they feel the same way you do. I know I’ve been there.” She reached for Mama’s Bible that sat on the coffee table and flipped open to Matthew 6:34. “Here’s a verse for you. I found it awhile back, and it’s helped me. Maybe it will help you, too. ‘Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’”
Carly’s face brightened. “That’s cool. Can I see? I want to write that one down.”
“Here.” Jade handed her the Bible and watched as she pulled a miniature memo pad from her pocket to jot the scripture down.
“I wonder if Grandma knows this one. I’m gonna go ask her.”
****
Shane watched Jade through the front bay window. She curled up on the couch, her bare feet tucked beneath her, and spooned Mrs. D’Atello’s hearty chicken soup into her mouth as Carly spoke. The girl emphasized her point by jabbing a finger into the air. She was lively, that one. Shane figured with a lot of prayer and some TLC, she’d land on both feet, eventually.
Susie flopped beneath a cherry blossom tree and fanned herself while she watched clouds float across an azure sky. Shane rested beside her to catch his breath, and his thoughts wandered to his mother. She had some nerve showing up at the funeral. What on earth was she thinking? He’d done his best to get her out of there quick.
He’d thought Jade was going to faint on the spot, right there in the chapel in front of everyone, from the stress of things. Dealing with his mother and her insight was the last thing she needed on the day she buried her mom. Once Shane persuaded her to drink some water and got her back on her feet, he’d strode to the parking lot to find his mother.
She was there on the steps, just outside the heavy double wooden entrance doors. Without so much as a word, he took her elbow and helped her cross the parking lot before she changed her mind and went back inside. Because he knew once she made up her mind about something, there was no changing it. On the way to the car she’d startled him by bursting into tears.
His mother...crying. He’d never seen the likes of it. Even at Reid’s funeral she’d been harsh and stoic. No need to carry a wad of spare tissue in her purse.
“Mother, what is it?” He’d taken the keys to her sleek Cadillac and opened the doors. “Are you OK?”
Heavy mascara blackened her eyes. “Do I look OK?”
“Well...no.” He was at a loss. His mother barked orders. She incited fear and submission. She didn’t sob like a toddler who’d just lost her favorite blanket. “Why did you come here?”
“To pay my respects.”
“For what, Mother?”
She fell silent. He crossed his arms and waited.
Her chin came up. When she spoke, her voice was full of resolve. “You know what I did. You said so, just a few minutes ago, in there.” She pointed toward the chapel. “Go ahead and judge me. Condemn me.”
Shane sighed. He was used to her melodramatics, and they had little effect on him anymore. But the tears were real this time. He guided her into the passenger seat and slid into the driver’s side. When he cranked the ignition the engine purred like a kitten. He set the air to blasting. The leather was hot and sticky. “It’s not my place to judge you or to condemn you.”
“Even so, I see it in your eyes.”
Though cool air blasted, Shane cracked the driver’s window. The car was stifling and her high-dollar perfume choked him. “Is your conscience bothering you, Mother?”
Her voice was shaky. She lowered tear-filled eyes and wrung her hands. “Perhaps...yes.”
He reached inside the car’s polished console and handed her a tissue. “Good. It’s a start. We need to talk, but not now.” He motioned toward the chapel doors. “I have to get back inside.”
“I saw Susie. She looks well.”
“Yes. She’s doing great. I’ve tried really hard to give her as normal a life as possible.”
“I know. You’re doing a very good job.”
Shane faltered. Had she just offered a compliment? Surely he’d misheard. His mother never gave compliments. Criticism and condescending banter, yes. But compliments—no way.
She brushed a tear from her cheek, blotching heavy foundation to reveal mottled, thin flesh. It gave him a start to realize how much she’d aged. He hadn’t seen her in a few months, and though she’d left him a message on his birthday, in the chaos of things he’d failed to return the call. She drew in a ragged breath. “She seems like a nice young woman.”
“Jade? Yes, she is.”
“You really should bring her over for dinner. And I’d like to spend some time with Susie. She’s getting so big. The days just keep passing by.”
“Yes, they do.” Shane studied her with new eyes. Gone was the overbearing, demanding woman. His mother had aged and mellowed. She was broken, fragile. His heart softened. “We’ll talk later. I promise I’ll call you.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “We have much to discuss.”
He opened the driver’s door and stepped from the car. The midday sun shone warm on his back. His mother slid behind the steering wheel and lowered the window. “Your father is away on business. He doesn’t know I came. I’ll tell him when he returns.”
“That’s between you and him, but I think it’s a good idea.”
She lowered her head for a moment, and when her eyes once again found his, they were pleading. “Will...will you pray for me, Shane?”
If she’d told him she’d given all her worldly wealth to charity, he would not have been more stunned. “Of course, Mother. I have been...all along.”
She nodded, her lips pursed. The window hummed as it came up,
closing her in. Shane’s reflection stared back at him. When she pressed the accelerator, he watched the car disappear into traffic. Exhaust fumes clouded the air.
“Look, Daddy.” Susie jarred him out of the memory. She pointed to a fat cloud floating overhead. “It looks like a bowl of popcorn.”
He followed her gaze. “You’re right. It does.”
“I’m hungry.”
“But you just ate a whole peanut butter and jelly sandwich. How can you be hungry?”
“Dunno. Mrs. D’atello said I must have a hollow leg.”
“Yes, you must.” In contrast, his gut felt as if it had been sledge-hammered. The secret he carried concerning Jade’s father ate away at him. How would he ever tell her, and was it really necessary to say anything at all? What would be gained from it?
No lasting relationship harbors secrets.
The voice rang through his head. Jade would find out eventually, if not from him then from someone else. Secrets can’t stay hidden forever. Living in Chicago the past ten years had cushioned her from the truth, but now she’d returned, hopefully to stay, and he meant to make things right.
“What are you doing?” Sunlight glinted off Susie’s hair as she ran through the grass gathering dandelions.
“Picking flowers for Jade. I know she misses her mama. Maybe they’ll cheer her up.”
Maybe they would. The knot in Shane’s gut eased slightly.
****
Darkness filled the house and silence washed over them like a gentle, lapping tide. He’d muted the TV half an hour ago, when the credits from Anastasia began to roll, and now the screen glowed eerily. Susie’s warm body was pressed against him; she’d succumbed to sleep during the first scene of the movie. Jade hadn’t lasted much longer. She lay curled beside him on the tan couch, her hair fanned out like cinnamon sprinkled over buttered toast. One hand was tucked beneath her cheek, and dark lashes feathered her pale skin. She sighed, locked in the throes of a dream. He adjusted Susie on his lap and slid a patchwork quilt from the arm of the couch, covering Jade from the night chill.
An empty bowl of popcorn lay toppled across the coffee table and kernels were scattered, some onto the floor. The scent of movie-theater butter lingered on the air. Susie had polished off most of the greasy mess. He was surprised her stomach didn’t ache with all the junk she’d eaten that day.
She moaned and wiggled in his arms. Baby blue eyes opened, only to flutter closed once again. Shane kissed the top of her sweaty head and eased her onto the cushions. He should clean up the popcorn mess before Claire arrived.
She’d texted to say she was on her way from the evening shift at the ER. They’d decided it best not to leave Jade alone tonight. The funeral had taxed her to the limit, and her emotions were raw and tender. Claire would spend the night, and tomorrow they’d decide how to handle things from there.
Shane’s phone vibrated. He checked caller ID and grinned. Quickly, he strode out onto the front porch so he wouldn’t wake the girls when he took the call.
“Bryce. Man, your timing is perfect, as usual.” He kept his voice low.
“Everything OK there?” Bryce’s booming voice filled the air, smooth as molasses. He had a great speaking voice, and he used this to his advantage.
“Yeah. The girls are sleeping.”
“Girls? What have I missed, my friend?”
“Let me fill you in.” Shane settled against the porch rail and stretched his weary muscles. His left leg had fallen asleep under Susie’s weight and it tingled painfully. As the story unfolded, Bryce took it all in without comment. It wasn’t until Shane finished that he spoke.
“I’ve got a speaking engagement in Knoxville. I’m driving in tomorrow. Can I bunk at your place?”
“You bet. That would be great.”
Mended Heart
11
Music filled the church office. Jade thought the melody of familiar tunes might soothe her aching heart, so she’d tuned the radio to her favorite Christian station. She plopped into the rolling desk chair and prepared to do battle with her ancient computer. But when she reached across the cluttered desk to switch on the hard drive, a neon-pink square of paper caught her eye.
There, pressed against the top right edge of a new flat-panel computer screen, she found a sticky note scrawled with Pastor Charles’s distinct handwriting.
Dear Jade,
Thanks for all you do. We appreciate you!
“What on earth?” She pressed the power button and the hard drive purred to life.
“Awesome computer. I guess you won’t be needing my services anymore.”
She spun the chair to find Shane in the doorway. His eyes were shadowed and a hint of stubble smudged his chin. She wasn’t the only one who’d lost a lot of sleep the past few days. “I guess not. You can still drop by to bilk candy from the jar, though.”
“Bilk? That sounds pretty serious.”
“Nah. Go ahead. I just filled it up.” She tossed him a peppermint. “I got some of your favorites and Susie’s, too.”
“Thanks.” He unwrapped the mint and popped it into his mouth. The wrapper crinkled between his fingers as he leaned against the door frame. “What are you doing here?”
“Working. What are you doing here?”
“I ran Mrs. D’atello to the oncologist this morning for a routine check-up, then came by to get a few things done. My desk is covered up, in case you haven’t noticed. Anyway, don’t skirt the subject. You should be home resting.”
“I’m not sick.”
“But you just...”
“Buried my mom?” She spun the chair back around to face the computer screen. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Sorry. I’ll remove my foot from my mouth now.”
She sighed. “I thought keeping busy might help. The house seems so...empty.” And in the backyard, weeds had already begun to overtake the vegetable garden Mama had so painstakingly tended. Despite Jade’s best efforts, tears filled her eyes. She sniffled. “Besides, the newsletter’s due to be mailed in a few days. I should get it done.”
“I can help.”
She shook her head and focused on the screen. “Maybe in a little while. I just need some time right now, OK?” She pulled a tissue and dabbed her nose.
Shane shifted feet in the doorway.
Her back stiffened, ready for an argument.
Finally, he reached for a second mint and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. “For later.”
“Sure. For later. Take a few for Susie, too.”
“She’ll come by to get her own when she wants them.”
When he turned and retreated down the hall, she tapped a series of keys on the sleek new keyboard, clicked enter, and brought up the next month’s newsletter. Icons swam before her eyes. She sniffled once more and lit a candle on the desk. The warm scent of vanilla soothed.
On the radio one song segued into another as she chose a font and began typing from notes Pastor Charles, Shane, and the other church employees had left on the desk. Her mind drifted as she entered the information into the newsletter format, editing as she went along. The work was tedious, and that was good. No need to think too hard. She really thought she’d make it through to the end, get the newsletter ready to print and mail out, until she flipped to the last note and found a list of memorials left in Mama’s memory.
Her breath caught at the sight of Mama’s name. Memorials and honorariums were typically acknowledged in the final section of the monthly newsletter. In this case the count was long, the donor names vast. And they were all in memory of Mama.
“Here, let me.” Gently, Shane took the list from her hands and tucked it into his pocket. He quickly clicked a few buttons on the keyboard to save the document. “You’ve done enough for today. Let me take you home.”
She hadn’t realized she’d begun to weep and that he’d heard her from down the hall. “I should finish.”
“Later. It can wait. No one expected you to come in today.” He knelt t
o retrieve her purse from beneath the desk and blew gently to extinguish the candle flame. A puff of smoke filled the air. “Come on.”
His hand felt calloused and warm in hers, and his touch was familiar. Wiping tears from her face with her free hand, she followed him from the office.
“I’m not sure I can go home yet.” She paused to watch him lock the office door.
“Then let’s go for a walk. Some fresh air will do you good.”
“OK. I guess you’re right.”
The summer sunshine warmed her face and dried the tears on her cheeks as they strode to Shane’s Jeep. She thought of Mama’s garden and decided she’d take tomorrow to weed it and gather some of the vegetables to take to the neighbors. Mama would have liked her to do that. She was good about sharing whatever she had.
They drove to the river walk. The quaint coffee shop she liked was open, so they stopped for a caramel latte for her and sugared coffee with extra cream for him. Kids were scattered along the river’s edge, playing in a maze of fountains the city had installed a few years ago. Squeals of laughter pierced the air.
“What did the oncologist say about Mrs. D’atello this morning?”
“That she’s responding well to treatment. She’s in remission.”
“That’s wonderful news. And Carly?”
“She grilled the nurse for nearly half an hour this morning. She had a list of questions she said you helped her with.”
Jade nodded. “She’s been so worried. I thought it might ease her mind to have her questions answered.”
“Seemed to do the trick. She was humming when we left the office, if you can imagine that. By the way, did you know she keeps a notebook of her favorite Bible verses?”
“Uh-huh.”
“We had a good talk this morning about a few of them.” He drew a sip of coffee and grinned at her. “How’s the latte?”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
“Have you eaten today?”
“Umm...” She shook her head. “I guess not.”
“There’s Benicio’s Café.” He motioned down the walk. “It doesn’t look too crowded. How about a plate of pasta or a salad?”
