Mother of Prevention

by Lori Copeland

  There and then gone.

  I held my breath, overwhelmed by the loveliness of it.

  “I saw it!” Kris shrieked. “It was right there.” She pointed at the horizon.

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. It had been like a glimpse of heaven. Suddenly I wanted Neil so badly my heart throbbed with the longing. I walked out of the camera-shaped building and stared at the shoreline.

  I felt Kris and Kelli press close against me. “Don’t cry, Mom,” Kris said. “We’re here.”

  “We’ll help you, Mom,” Kelli said. “We’ll like living in San Francisco.”

  I looked down at the love shining in their eyes and knew some way I could go on because I had these two precious daughters. Neil lived on in their lives and in my heart.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it will be all right.”

  Beni from the new church called that night. “Kate, I don’t know if you noticed, but the singles group is having a holiday mixer tomorrow evening.”

  I’d noticed, all right, and had no intention of going. It was much too early for me to be thinking of singles meetings.

  “I don’t know, Beni,” I began, but she interrupted me.

  “Don’t make up your mind right away. If you do decide to come, bring a covered dish and a gift that would do for either a man or woman.”

  A gift exchange? “But Christmas is over.”

  “I know, but this is our Christmas and New Year’s meeting combined. Most everyone brings gag gifts, but a few buy more serious items. It will be fun, Kate. No pressure, I promise.”

  I felt pressured, and I didn’t like the idea, but I agreed to come to the silly social because I didn’t know how to say no. “All right, I’ll come if I can bring a friend.”

  “Sure, Kate. That will be fine.”

  I hung up the phone and called Mazi. She might not be single, but she certainly could use the fellowship. She was strangely reluctant, for someone who thrived on fun.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Kate. I know you go to church and all that, but I really don’t get that God stuff.”

  “It isn’t a worship service, Mazi. Purely social, I promise.” I sounded like Beni.

  I caught the shrug in her voice. “All right, I’ll go to keep you company.”

  I hung up the phone and called Alissa, who happened to be free tomorrow night. “Come planning to be here a while. I have no idea how long this thing will last.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she assured me. “I only live a few minutes away. It’s not like I’d have a long drive home. And I can use the extra money.”

  Poor Alissa was always broke.

  The night of the mixer I dressed in a black skirt and shell, topped by a jacket of turquoise, green and gold paisley pattern on black velvet. Neil had liked me in this. Wearing the jacket made me feel as if I was taking a part of him along with me.

  Mazi was resplendent in a black sleeveless dress topped by a sheer chiffon peplum jacket with bell sleeves in a warm golden brown. The knee-high slit showed a fetching glimpse of sheer black hose. For once, she looked perfect for the occasion.

  The girls admired us, and assured me they were looking forward to an evening with Alissa, who had promised to play Chutes and Ladders with them. Mazi and I set off for our night on the town.

  We left our casseroles in the kitchen area and laid our gifts under the tree. A nice-looking man with silver hair and mustache claimed Mazi’s attention and, figuring she could hold her own, I drifted over to chat with Beni.

  “I’m so glad you could come.” She introduced me to a few people and then excused herself to check on the food. I stood there with a cup of punch in my hand, wearing a silly grin.

  I hated these things. Right now I could be home soaking my tired feet in a tub of hot water.

  A tall, extremely buff blond guy walked up. He paused, punch in hand. “So, Kate. You’re new to the area, right?”

  I nodded. “We’ve only been here since the end of November.”

  His brow furrowed. “We?”

  “My daughters and I. Kris and Kelli.”

  “Oh. You have kids.”

  “Ages seven and five.”

  His eyes glazed over. “Ah, yes. Well, if you’ll excuse me. I see someone I need to talk to. Nice to have you tonight.”

  I watched him walk/run away and figured he wouldn’t be asking for my phone number, which was fine with me. I took a fortifying sip from my cup. And smiled.

  Mazi, meanwhile, had exchanged the older man for another just as old. The top of his head barely reached to her chin, and Mazi wasn’t tall. Everywhere she went, he trailed her. If she stopped for a glass of punch, he was thirsty. If she joined a group, he was there. I saw her distinctly flash her wedding ring at him, but he didn’t appear to heed the silent warning.

  She wore a hunted expression, and I figured I’d better do something. I cornered Beni. “Who’s the guy hanging around Mazi?”

  Beni squinted in the man’s direction. “Oh, that’s Earl Ray. He’s a pest, but he’s harmless.”

  “What does he do?”

  She grinned. “Mostly he chases women.”

  I snorted. “Well, right now he’s chasing Mazi. How can we head him off?”

  She shot another glance in Mazi’s direction. “Don’t look now, but I think he has competition.”

  The white-haired man was back, elbowing Earl out of the way. The two men were joined by a tall, lanky redhead with a friendly smile and a terrible haircut. Suddenly my friend’s hunted expression disappeared and Mazi was her usual bubbly self.

  During the evening I had a chance to get acquainted with several people from church I’d not met before, and I was surprised to see Mazi enjoying herself so much. Maybe this was a start. For both of us. Maybe I’d come out of my self-constructed shell, and Mazi would see that organized religion wasn’t the same thing as Christ-based faith. If she got acquainted with the people at the singles group, God could start to move in her life and she would agree to attend morning worship service. For a moment I was filled with relief; I was slowly starting to feel and think like the old Kate. Neil would be proud of me. Better yet, I felt proud of myself. I was far from healed, but I realized that I was closer to forgiving God.

  How magnanimous of you, Kate.

  I shook the thought aside and filled my plate with smoked sausage and crackers. Mazi was chatting to one of the women while still surrounded by half of the available men present. She seemed to be doing just fine, so I carried my plate to a vacant table. It was as if I had turned on one of those bug-zapper lights. Evidently the men were hungry for a new face. Soon I had my own little entourage offering to refill my punch and fetch more crackers.

  The man on my left introduced himself as Sam Whitley, and he proceeded to monopolize the conversation, telling me about his gas station and how hard it was to get dependable employees. I wasn’t sure if he was giving me his résumé or interviewing me for a job.

  Hollis Temple, across the table from me, speared a bite of ham and munched on it, while pointing the fork at me. “Have you been to Chinatown?”

  I assured him that I had, and Fisherman’s Wharf, and for the time being I was through with the tourist stuff. He looked disappointed and retired behind a piece of cherry pie. If he was planning to ask me to visit either sight, I had successfully nipped the plan in the bud. I considered bringing out pictures of the girls as added insurance to head off any other invitations.

  The gift exchange was a hoot. Mazi got a Christmas pin in the shape of a wreath and as big as a teacup. The “jewels” flashed on and off like a traffic light. She immediately put it on, which seemed to earn her brownie points with the others.

  My gift was a set of pig bookends. The pink porkers lolled, happy mouths curved in sappy expressions that seemed to match the way I felt. I silently christened them Kate and Mazi.

  The gas station man, Sam, got a tie with an alligator on it, but not the little tasteful alligators that in an understated way suggest that you are wearing a
classy piece of clothing. This alligator was big and green and glittered. His wide-open mouth displayed big pearly-white teeth. Sam grinned good-naturedly and tied it around his neck. I liked him better after that.

  The party started to break up after the gift exchange, and I went to the kitchen to collect our dishes. Mazi joined me, laughing at something one of the women said. I was proud of the way she had fit in, because I knew she had been hesitant to come.

  When we got home she consulted her watch. “Only eleven. Early yet. Come over to the house for a few minutes. I’m too wound up to sleep.”

  I followed her across the hedge, hoping that she’d wind down quickly. I could fall asleep on a rock. “You looked like you had fun tonight.”

  “Oh, yes, I did. Thanks for inviting me. Funny, I had an entirely different opinion of church people. If they are all like this bunch, they’re not bad.”

  “People who go to church are just like people who don’t go to church. The only difference is they have God in their life.”

  “Yeah.” She paused, key in lock. “That’s the part I don’t understand.”

  I swallowed. Were we about to embark on a theological discussion? I wasn’t sure I was up to it. “I’d be glad to answer any question you might have—if I can.”

  “I know you would. Trouble is, Kate, I don’t know the questions. But not tonight, okay?”

  “Sure. I’m right next door anytime you want to talk.” I would pray for her, pray that God would allow me to plant a seed and he would make it grow.

  She unlocked her door and we went inside to slump into soft overstuffed chairs in the living room. Mazi brought cups of hot tea, which seemed to fit the bill tonight on a chilly San Francisco evening. I’d eaten too much, and the light taste of chamomile was exactly what I needed.

  Mazi kicked off her shoes. “Did the men come on to you tonight?”

  “Some. You?”

  “They tried.” She giggled. “You notice that little guy, that Earl Ray?”

  I nodded.

  “He wanted to take me for a romantic stroll on the beach.”

  I grinned. “What did you say?”

  “I told him I was allergic to sand.”

  I leaned back, cradling the cup of warm liquid in my hands. “I think I almost got an invitation to Chinatown, but I headed it off.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “Did you see that big guy, George something, crushing soda cans with his bare hands? That always slays me when they do that. It’s like, ‘Hey, woman, look at me.’ Real macho stuff. As if crushing soda cans is a trait a woman would want in a husband.”

  I laughed, knowing exactly what she meant. “I got an invitation to join Ted Johnson in a one-on-one study of Revelation. At his house. I declined.”

  Mazi laughed. “You know what, Kate? The men were all nice guys. When they discovered I was there with you as a guest, and that I was married, they were perfect gentlemen. Kind. Witty. Thoughtful.”

  “I know. They’re just lonely.” Like me. Lonely, desperate for someone to love.

  My best friend’s eyes twinkled. “You know the really amazing thing? The men were coming on to us.” She leaned over and smacked my knee playfully. “We’ve still got it, girl!”

  “Now, if we could just remember where we put it.”

  “Or what to do with it.”

  We sat there giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.

  Out-of-our-silly-gourd sophomores.

  Chapter 13

  New Year’s Eve had never been a big event for us, so I guess that’s why this year the girls and I had stayed home and worked puzzles. We were in bed asleep, blissfully unaware, when the New Year started. Mazi had suggested Chinatown again, but I’d decined the offer.

  Neil and I had usually stayed home with the girls anyway on the holiday. Popcorn and a rented family-friendly video was about as wild as we got. Neil always brought home a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. At the stroke of midnight we’d lift stem glasses and drink a toast to the Madisons’ happiness and well-being. Later the girls would polish off the bottle of grape juice.

  Last year we’d observed the same rite, unaware of the changes looming on our horizon.

  Now it was mid-January, and impulsive Mazi had decided that we needed a New Year’s Eve celebration.

  “The year won’t go right without one.”

  I’d said, “Whatever.” My life would be the same no matter what.

  I closed the salon at three-thirty this afternoon, and everyone made a beeline for their cars, focused on colds and flu. A nasty viral bug had swept the shop. As I watched my staff leave, blowing red noses and coughing, I felt a now-familiar ache in my heart. I would put on a brave front tonight, but I had never felt less like celebrating in my life. Hopefully Mazi wouldn’t insist that we stay at her place until midnight.

  I stopped at the supercenter and picked up a bottle of sparkling grape juice. We had microwave popcorn at the house, and for the girls’ sake I would go through the motions, but I would be relieved when the evening was over. I realized how much I had come to depend on Mazi. Maybe too much, but she was willing to help, and I was so willing to let her.

  The video I chose, The Best Little Christmas Pageant Ever, was a holiday behind, since Christmas had come and gone, but I always enjoyed watching a bunch of scruffy kids teaching a group of church members the real meaning of Christmas.

  The house was empty when I got home. The girls were already over at Mazi’s. Alissa had asked for the evening off. The young woman had smiled and said she had a date. Something about the way she said it sent up a red flag and I started to worry that I might soon be looking for a new baby-sitter. I remembered the applicant pool I’d interviewed before hiring Alissa, and I cringed.

  The phone rang. Mom calling from Kansas.

  “How’s the weather out there?”

  “Nice, balmy with a warm breeze.”

  She sighed. “We’re in the middle of a blizzard.”

  Well, I didn’t miss that. Cold, blowing snow and storm-blocked roads were one part of the Midwest I could do without.

  “Are you and Dad all right?”

  “We’re fine. I’m just worried about you and the girls.”

  I pretended a confidence I didn’t feel. “We’re doing all right. The girls have adapted to their new school, and things are going well at work.” If you didn’t count the flu going around, fussy, difficult-to-please customers and high-strung stylists. I’d become so good at negotiating peace I was thinking about sending my résumé to the United Nations.

  “Well, we know you’re a grown woman, but your dad and I still worry about you, Kate.”

  I had a hunch about the purpose of tonight’s call: Mom wanted to ride to the rescue. Trade wintry Kansas for sunny California. Who could blame her? I didn’t really need her. I wasn’t proud of my thoughts, but I didn’t even want her here right now.

  “Really, Mom. The girls and I are adjusting.” I couldn’t bring myself to say “doing fine,” because we weren’t exactly blooming in our new environment, but we were gradually coming to grips with our new life. “Why don’t you and Dad plan to come see us sometime in spring?” By then I’d be more in control of my emotions, although control had never been a major character trait of mine.

  “I suppose that would be better. It’s difficult to travel this time of the year. Airport delays, terrible road conditions. What are you planning to do tonight?”

  “Oh, we’re going to the neighbor’s for a delayed New Year’s Eve party.”

  “New Year’s Eve? That was two weeks ago. You be careful, Kate. I worry about all of those strange people I hear about walking the streets in San Francisco. You’re too innocent to cope with them, honey.”

  Right. Really innocent. I needed my mommy. I wondered what her reaction would have been to Tina with the striped stockings or Mrs. Ferguson and Homer. I knew how she would have reacted to the battleship demeanor of Mrs. Harrod. Mom might look more like a frivolous sailboat, but that’s one
battleship she would have torpedoed on sight.

  “I have a routine, Mom. Home, work, the grocery store. There’s not a lot of opportunity to encounter foul play.”

  “What about church?” Her voice had a “gotcha” ring to it.

  Rats. I’d forgotten church. “That, too. We’ve visited a nice church and we’re fitting in just fine.”

  “That’s a relief, dear. Then I guess you don’t need me.”

  “I always need you, Mom, but not at the moment. My job takes up all my spare time and the girls are in school all day. I’d rather you wait and visit when we can spend time together.” I paused. “I’ll take you and Dad to Chinatown and Fisherman’s Wharf.”

  “That sounds interesting. Are there a lot of strange people hanging around there?”

  “Oh—hey, Mom. I hear the kids. Can I call you later?”

  “Your father and I are going to a prayer study tonight. He’s waiting in the car right now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Great. Have a good time, Mom. Drive safely and don’t drink too much.”

  Mom poohed. “Kate, you’re an incurable tease.”

  I grinned. “Give Dad my love.”

  “The same to you, darling. And kiss Kelli and Kris for us.”

  I hung up as the front door opened and Kris and Kelli burst inside the foyer. I walked through the kitchen to greet them.

  “Mom! Mazi’s husband is sick, but she said we can still have our not-really-New-Year’s-Eve party!”

  I cast a quick look toward Mazi’s picture window, half expecting to see the elusive Warren “Is she sure? We might disturb him.” Plus, I wasn’t crazy about the thought of coming down with a roaring case of the flu.

  “He’s upstairs in bed,” Kelli said “He’s sort of cranky.”

  “Well, probably he doesn’t feel good.” The chattering girls followed me into the kitchen explaining that Mazi really wanted us to come. Really, really.

  I was reluctant to go over, with her husband ill and probably wanting quiet instead of a houseful of company, but one look at the girls with their flushed, excited expressions, and I caved. After all, it was Mazi’s place to worry about her husband, not mine.