“You know the deal.” Janelle followed him to the front, beckoning the girls by hand. “They were just stirring when I left.”
Sofa beds with teen bodies sprawled in deep sleep greeted them in the family room when they walked in—as did the smell of bacon. They followed the latter to the kitchen, where Estelle and Gladys were cooking breakfast in their housecoats. Grandma Geri had her coffee at the table, sitting with family who’d camped there for conversation.
Todd stood in the middle of the kitchen and saluted. “Good morning to all—and good-bye. If I don’t say it fast, I’ll never get out of here.”
“I know that’s right.” Gladys chuckled from her frying pan. “It’ll be an hour later, and you’ll still be trying to get on the road.”
“Boy, get over here and give me a hug,” Grandma Geri said. “When you coming again?”
Todd set Ethan down and bent to hug her. “Still got a lot to take care of with Dad’s things, so I’ll probably be back in a month, if not before.”
“I’m gonna really miss your dad,” Grandma Geri said. “That was a special man.”
The love for his dad showed in Todd’s eyes. “Yes, ma’am, he was.”
“And you’re every bit as special.” She took his hand. “You know that, right? God’s gifted you.”
Todd’s face was noncommittal.
“Believe it, Todd.”
He gave her a nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
Becca hugged Grandma Geri next, then moved person to person as she and Todd said their good-byes. A quick knock on the screen door made them all look. It opened and closed, and a moment later Dr. Reynolds appeared.
“Hey, Dr. Reynolds.” Gladys waved. “How is it every family get-together, you happen to stop by right at breakfast time?”
“Yeah, we’ve caught on to you, Doc.” Estelle was peeling potatoes for hash browns.
Gladys turned to Estelle. “We should talk to him about Momma’s cough while he’s here.”
Dr. Reynolds, a distinguished black man in his sixties, had a kind disposition that put people immediately at ease. He knew—and had probably treated—everyone in town, including Claire when she’d gotten severe constipation as a baby during a visit. He was known for stopping by the Sanders home to shoot the breeze during family gatherings, but this visit was out of the ordinary. He had his briefcase, and he had yet to speak. The family looked at him now with tentative expressions.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said. “I wish I were just stopping by for bacon and eggs, but I need to speak to Grandma Geri.” He stepped closer to her. “Is there someplace we can go for privacy?”
“Momma, what’s this about?” Gladys moved closer too.
Estelle had been heating a pan for the potatoes, but she turned it off, set down her paring knife, and went to listen.
Grandma Geri had her hands clasped in front of her. “Right here’s fine,” she said. “Don’t matter to me at this point who hears what you got to say.”
Becca looked at Todd, who nodded, gave final hugs, and followed her out.
“What do you think is going on?” Becca whispered outside.
“Grandma Geri must have some health issue. Didn’t look good, did it?”
“Whatever it is, looked like they’re about to have a serious discussion.”
Todd paused. “Actually, Becca, I think we need to have one as well on the drive home.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Stephanie was folding the bedding she and Lindell had used on the pull-out sofa in the living room. Her dad had been right—bonding did take place late at night at her grandmother’s house. She, Libby, Janelle, and others had talked and laughed into the wee hours. She’d tried to hang on to sleep as the kids began moving about this morning, but it was futile. Plus the food was smelling too good, and she didn’t want to miss out.
Janelle came from the kitchen. “Hey, Dr. Reynolds is here,” she said. It was almost a whisper. “Something with Grandma Geri. Doesn’t sound good.”
Lindell perked up from his spot in a nearby armchair, where he’d moved so Stephanie could make up the bed. He got up, stretching. “Let’s see what’s going on,” he said.
Stephanie went to the kitchen in what she’d slept in—sweat-pants and a T-shirt—and stood near the refrigerator with Lindell. Grandma Geri was at the kitchen table with Aunt Gladys, Aunt Estelle, Uncle Wood, and a man who must be Dr. Reynolds. The fairly large kitchen was growing more crowded by the second, with Libby coming now, half-awake, hanging by the door frame. One of the teens had ushered the kids into the family room. Stephanie could hear the sound of cartoons in the distance.
Dr. Reynolds took papers out of a briefcase and set them on the table. Everyone quieted as he cleared his throat and looked at Grandma Geri. “Geraldine, I’ve known you for more than forty years. Many in this kitchen have been under my care at one time or another. And of course, I had the privilege of taking care of your beloved Elwood up until he passed, rest his soul.”
Stephanie was practically holding her breath. What was this buildup about?
He continued. “We have a history that binds us, and I feel part of the Sanders family. So I want you to know I would not come here on Christmas Eve with this news if I didn’t think it absolutely necessary.”
“I know that, Grayson.” Grandma Geri sat a little straighter. “Go on.”
Dr. Reynolds took note of the faces surrounding them. “Are you sure you don’t want to discuss this privately first, then call everyone in?”
“I’m sure,” she said.
“I’ll keep it as simple as I can. Dr. Peters called me earlier this morning with the results of the biopsy, and I asked that I be the one to share it with you.” His mouth seemed dry. He kept licking his lips. “Geraldine, you have lung cancer.”
A flurry of gasps sounded around the room.
“And it’s what we call non-small cell lung cancer.”
“Have mercy . . .” Aunt Gladys picked up a New Jerusalem fan from the table and swished it before her face.
“Lung cancer?” Stephanie whispered it to Lindell. “I don’t remember my grandmother smoking.”
“Doesn’t have to come from smoking,” he whispered back. “But what about your grandfather?”
Stephanie shrugged. She barely remembered him. She was in her early teens when he died.
“I’m confused.” Aunt Estelle regarded her mother. “We knew you hadn’t been feeling well with the coughing and fatigue, but why didn’t we know about the biopsy? Who took you?”
“I took myself.” Grandma Geri seemed insulted that she’d presume otherwise. “Contrary to what y’all seem to think, I don’t mind going to the doctor. I just didn’t want everybody knowing I went ’cause you’d worry me to death until I got the results.”
Dr. Reynolds added, “From there, I ordered a chest X-ray, which led to the biopsy.”
“Momma, you still should’ve told us,” Aunt Gladys said. “But thank God you went when you did.”
Uncle Wood leaned forward. “How serious is it, Doc? And how soon will she undergo surgery?”
Dr. Reynolds looked him in the eye. “Very serious. Stage four. The cancer has already begun to spread, and the reality is it’s inoperable.” He sighed. “Geraldine, you’ll receive palliative care, as Elwood did.”
Stephanie leaned her head over to Lindell again. “What does that mean?”
Lindell’s sigh was sad. “Means they’ll try to ease the pain and extend her life as long as they can.”
“So chemotherapy, then?” Grandma Geri asked. “Like you did with Elwood?”
Dr. Reynolds nodded. “Yes, chemotherapy. With the hope that it will lessen the symptoms and enable you to live well for as long as possible.”
Stephanie looked at her husband. Sometimes she was surprised he actually knew what he was talking about.
“As long as possible?” Worry lined Aunt Estelle’s face.
“What’s the bottom line, Doc?” Uncle Wood asked. “How long can she
expect to live?”
“Wood, there’s no way to say with certainty,” the doctor said. “Everyone responds to chemo differently.”
“Daddy passed pretty quickly from what I remember.” Aunt Estelle sounded as if she were talking to herself.
Dr. Reynolds absentmindedly straightened his papers. “Your mother knows better than anybody in this room that God has the final say.”
“Yes, He does,” Grandma Geri affirmed. “And I got no fear of this thing. I’m fine either way. If I die, y’all know where to find me. With Jesus. And Elwood.”
Aunt Gladys gave her a look. “We understand all that, Momma. But we don’t want you to give up either. We don’t know what God’ll do. You could live to be a hundred or more. You have to fight this.” She looked at the doctor. “Could Momma go to a treatment facility in Raleigh? She could come stay with us. I’m sure I could call on one of my good friends to help take her to and fro, since my husband and I both work.”
“I feel helpless, living way down in Florida,” Aunt Estelle said.
“I was thinking the same,” Uncle Wood said. “Not much Denise and I can do from Atlanta.”
“I think Raleigh’s the only viable option,” Aunt Gladys said.
Grandma Geri shook her head. “I’m staying in my own home and going to the hospital in Rocky Mount where Elwood went.”
“Momma,” Uncle Wood said, “the hospital is at least fifteen or twenty minutes from here, and you can’t drive yourself to chemo treatments. Who would take you back and forth?”
“I don’t know. I can pray about it.” Her hands began to tremble. “That’s all I want. I don’t mind dying, but I want to die in the home I’ve lived in for over sixty years.” Tears slid down her face for the first time since she’d heard the diagnosis.
Aunt Estelle grabbed her hand across the table. “Momma, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure something out.”
“I’ll do it.” Janelle stood behind her mother, looking pained by all she’d heard.
Stephanie looked at Janelle. Is she serious?
“You’ll do what?” Aunt Estelle asked her.
“I’ll take Grandma to her treatments and help care for her,” Janelle said.
Aunt Estelle turned more fully to get a better look at her. “Honey, what sense does that make? What about Daniel’s school? Your life is in Maryland.”
“What life? It hasn’t been the same anyway since David’s death.” She seemed to think it through on the spot. “It’s not like I’m working. Daniel can transfer to Hope Springs Elementary. It’ll be like an extended vacation, until Grandma’s better.”
“Come here, baby.” Grandma Geri reached for her.
Janelle walked over and held her hand.
“I can’t let you do that, much as you warmed my heart by offering. It’s too much.”
Janelle bent down next to her. “Grandma, remember you used to tell us, ‘Y’all think you’re grown,’ when we were teens?”
“Mm-hmm.” Libby was standing by her dad. “I remember.”
“Well, now I am grown, and I get to decide what’s too much—and I just decided. It’s not too much.” She smiled. “Besides, what did you tell me yesterday? ‘Let your family love on you.’ That’s what I want to do.”
“I also said you needed a spanking ’cause you don’t listen.” Grandma Geri squeezed Janelle’s hand, fresh tears in her eyes.
“That’s a mighty special thing you’re offering to do, Jan.” Uncle Wood looked over at his twin sister. “You raised her right, Stelle.”
“Definitely special,” Aunt Gladys said. “And you won’t be in this alone, Janelle. I can help on weekends.”
Libby looked at her from across the table. “What will you do, Jan? Drive home, pack more stuff, and come right back?”
Janelle took a moment to think. “I could leave right after Christmas and be back by the New Year. That’ll give me time to square away things at home.” She turned to Dr. Reynolds. “Is that okay? Can Grandma wait till then to start treatment?”
“Better be okay.” Grandma Geri had recaptured her spunk. “I’m spending my last Christmas holiday with my family in peace.”
“Momma, stop talking like that,” Aunt Gladys said. “I don’t care what the report says. We’ll be praying for complete healing.”
“Amen” sounded around the kitchen.
Lindell went to talk to Dr. Reynolds, and others stood around listening or talking among themselves. Stephanie was trying to figure out what was going on inside of her. She was saddened by the news and needed to call her dad right away and let him know. But something else was pressing in on her. She eased around family members and slipped out the side door in her slippers, thinking better of it when the chill hit her arms. But she felt the need to keep walking, thinking.
Times like this, she thought of her sister. Cyd always prayed first thing, even when she didn’t know what to pray.
Lord, why is my heart beating like this? I feel like I’ve been running. And You know I don’t hardly run.
She continued walking up the road, watching tree limbs sway in the wind, mulling the news. Her grandmother had cancer . . .
Stephanie didn’t get overly sad about such things, not when the person was old. Everybody had to die of something, didn’t they? Not that she wanted anyone to suffer either. It was just . . . maybe she just found it hard to enter into another person’s pain. It required something of her. Required her to care, to feel.
Why was she about to cry?
She waved a hand in front of her face, as if to will it away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried.
Okay, Lord . . . what? What is this?
Her mind went to Janelle, how struck she was by Janelle’s offer to care for her grandmother. The minute she said it, Stephanie knew she could never do something like that. Would never want to. It took a special kind of person to give that way, a true serv—
She stopped, hands on her hips, weird tears sliding down her face. That could not be what this was all about. Here’s the deal, Lord. Yes, I prayed to be a servant, but not that kind. I was talking take-a-meal-to-someone-across-town-when-they’re-sick kind of servant, not pick-up-and-move-hundreds-of-miles kind of servant. Anyway, hallelujah, the job’s taken. Janelle already filled it.
She shook her head as if to shake away her ludicrous thoughts.
Lindell’s leaving for Haiti next week. You don’t have a job either. Nothing’s keeping you in St. Louis. You could help Janelle.
“Shut up, Cyd.”
Great, she was going crazy. Talking aloud to the Cyd in her head.
“Stephanie, you okay?”
She turned. Lindell was coming toward her. She didn’t want him to see her like this. He’d surely ask questions. Had he ever seen her cry?
“I was wondering where you went,” he said. He looked more closely at her. “Sweetheart, you’re crying?”
He put his arms around her, and she buried her head on his shoulder.
“The news is definitely upsetting,” he said. “I’m so glad you felt like we needed to be here for Christmas.”
“Yeah, before I changed my mind and wanted to stay in St. Louis. That’s the thing, Lindell . . .” She walked a few feet away, processing her thoughts. “I say I want to change and care and all that stuff I’m supposed to say and feel, but deep down I don’t want to. You know? Deep down, I’m selfish.” She was crying harder, not even understanding why. “I don’t want to go out of my way for anybody. I’m not a Janelle.”
Lindell came closer. “What are you talking about, Steph?”
She folded her arms, partly because it was cold and partly because she wanted to shield herself against whatever God was trying to do with her. “I think God wants me to spend some time in Hope Springs while you’re in Haiti . . .” She wiped a few tears. “Helping Janelle take care of Grandma Geri.”
“Wow.” Lindell looked aside, presumably processing it himself.
“But I know it wouldn’t work,” she
quickly added. “We can’t just leave our home for weeks at a time. Too much to look after—bills, home maintenance. I mean, what if a pipe bursts when it’s cold or a bird gets stuck in the chimney—that happened to the Nelsons, you know. Somebody needs to be there.”
Lindell brought her into his arms again. “Steph, I have watched God do amazing things in your heart in the two years we’ve been married.” He leaned back to look in her eyes. “You think you’re selfish now? Do you remember how you used to be?”
The tears had subsided, so she could easily roll her eyes at him.
“I’m trying to encourage you, babe. You’ve come a long way. We both have. I would never have considered a medical mission trip two years ago.” He took her hand and walked with her. “I think it’s exciting. You told me you’ve been praying to have a servant’s heart. Sounds like God wants to take you to servant school.”
“You didn’t answer my concerns, though. What about our house?”
Lindell almost chuckled. “Really, Steph? How much family do we have nearby to check on things for us? And we can pay bills online. The last thing I’m worried about is the house.”
“Well, Janelle might not want me here. I might just get in the way.”
“True.” Lindell stifled a smile. “You’d be remiss if you didn’t ask to be sure.”
“And I’d miss my family.”
He nodded. “Yes, you will. And you’ll get to know the family that’s here better.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re not joining the army. It’s only a few weeks.”
“Hmph. It’s kinda like joining the army. Servant school boot camp.”
He laughed. “That might be true.” He stopped and looked at her. “Not like you have to decide this minute. Let’s pray, and whatever you decide, you decide. God can find a way to take you through servant school boot camp in St. Louis just as well as in Hope Springs.”
That made her feel better, like her whole life didn’t hinge on this one decision. She stared into the distance.
“What?” Lindell said.
“I don’t know . . . My thoughts about what I should do keep changing, depending on whether I’m focused on myself or my grandmother.” She sighed. “If you ask me, boot camp already started.”
Hope Springs Page 6
