Becca had called Connie two days ago only to say they were thinking about listing their home. She asked if they could get together sometime after the New Year to get an appraisal. If it appeared they could lose money, maybe they’d rethink their decision. She’d been waiting to hear back for a meeting time, but when she returned from her mom’s, Connie was sitting in her dining room.
Todd was still smiling. “It’s amazing how fast it happened. I didn’t have time to call Becca because I was trying to hurry up and get the house in decent shape for them to see it.” He looked at Becca. “Thank God the kids were with you at your mom’s or I could’ve never done it. They walk through and bam, they say it’s the one.”
“So beautiful,” Connie said. “Just as they knew immediately that all the other houses weren’t the one, they knew immediately that this was.”
Somehow beautiful wasn’t the word that came to Becca’s mind. “I have yet to wrap my mind around this,” she said. “Todd let them see the house as a courtesy, but it’s not even listed yet. And who do they think they are, demanding we be out of our home in two weeks?”
Becca knew she was on edge, but this was happening so fast.
“Bec, it’s not a demand. People state what works best for them, then we counter. Frankly, I don’t have a problem with it.”
“They’re saying two weeks because they’ve been looking so long—bless their hearts—and they want to get their kids in the neighborhood school and get settled.”
“Well, isn’t that their problem?” Becca’s heart rate was accelerating. “Why should I have to rush to move out of my home? Moreover, how do we know this is the best offer we can get? I think we need to list it and find out.”
“Bec, really? We have an offer on the table, one that nets us more equity than anticipated, and you think we should wait for something better?” Todd paused for a response, but Becca couldn’t think of one. “I know the timing isn’t great,” he added, “but it has God written all over it—no offense, Connie.” He grinned at her.
She grinned back. “None taken.”
Becca stared vaguely at the papers in front of her, papers that detailed the hastily written offer on their home. All she could think was she should’ve waited to call Connie. Then this family would’ve had no choice but to buy something else, whether it suited them fully or not. She sighed. She’d said she supported the decision. But she’d pinned her hopes on a slow sale of the house.
“You’re right,” she said finally. “This is a solid offer. But I still don’t see how we can be out of here so quickly. Do you know how much work it’ll take to figure out what we should take versus what we should give away or throw out? And that’s before we actually begin to pack. We don’t have professional movers this time around.”
“I think we take it one day at a time. We might be surprised by how smoothly it goes.”
Becca excused herself as Todd and Connie discussed the things they should counter in the offer—closing date not among them. She walked upstairs, peeking into Ethan’s room to make sure he was still napping—he’d fallen asleep in the car. They’d plunked Claire down in the family room to watch a video while they talked, and now, as Becca passed her room, she took in the décor that was barely a year old. In two weeks neither of those rooms would look the same.
She walked into her home office frustrated, feeling her life had left her control. Even if she wanted to move to Hope Springs, now wasn’t the time. She needed to focus on preparing her message, working on her book, building her blog. Instead . . .
She turned toward one wall, lined with accordion files and boxes filled with papers and programs, including study notes and drafts of messages she’d given over the years. She’d be organizing all of that instead, determining what to toss, what to recycle, and what to save. This room alone would take hours.
Becca collapsed in her chair, resentment rising. Sure, Todd had been supportive of her Worth & Purpose opportunity, though it meant several weekends away from home. And she appreciated that. But his opportunity was turning their lives upside—
Three dings pierced the quiet, and Becca looked at her computer. She’d been away from it all day, which was unusual. She leaned over and awakened the screen, then blinked and moved closer. Fifty-six new messages? What in the world?
She skimmed the in-box and saw that most were new Facebook friend requests and Twitter followers, but she’d never had this many in one day. Why the onslaught?
Wait. Had Worth & Purpose announced her as a new speaker? She’d sent them one of her new photos, but she hadn’t expected an announcement until after the New Year, if at all. She wasn’t a well-known addition to the team. It was more likely that they’d quietly add her picture to the lineup.
She clicked over to the Worth & Purpose window—which was always open—and refreshed the home page. Her gasp was audible. They’d actually posted a “news” item that she’d joined the lineup? It was coupled with the picture she’d sent. She clicked the More button, and it linked to her bio.
With wit and vivacity, Becca Dillon has brought her message of God’s grace and love to countless women. Seminary trained, she has been a popular Bible teacher in her local church and at women’s retreats, and a featured women’s conference speaker. She lives in the St. Louis area with her husband and two children.
She clicked to the page that showed the speaker lineup, and there she was. But she wondered still about the notifications. Did people check the Worth & Purpose site this closely? Or . . . She opened her Twitter screen and saw a flood of mentions. They tweeted about me?
Join us in welcoming @BeccaDillon to the @WorthandPurpose speaker lineup. And follow her!
She clicked over to Facebook and saw a similar post about her on their fan page, with numerous “likes” and comments.
She sat back in her chair, her heart really accelerating. Somehow it was real now. Really real.
Six more e-mail notifications appeared and Becca sat forward again. Hmm . . . should she create a Facebook fan page now? She had speaker friends who’d done it, but she’d resisted thus far. Now that she might actually garner a decent number of fans, though . . .
She clicked through a couple of Facebook screens to find out how to do it. What would she list herself under? She wasn’t a public figure. Wasn’t an author either—though she would be. So she chose writer, then cut and pasted her bio from the other screen into the information section on the fan page—adding Worth & Purpose speaker to the paragraph. Moments later, she’d uploaded one of her new photos and voila! She had a fan page . . . with no fans. But hopefully that would change soon.
Another e-mail dinged, and Becca switched to that screen. Katie Flanagan. She and Becca had been on the program together for a few regional conferences, but she didn’t know Katie well. She looked at the message.
Hi Becca,
I happened to see the Worth & Purpose announcement on Facebook that you’ve joined the tour. Congratulations! What an amazing accomplishment. It’s always been my hope to join their speaker roster one day, so I’d love to hear how it happened for you. Your life will never be the same, girl!
Katie
“Hey, Bec.”
Becca turned as Todd walked in.
“We’ve finished drafting the counteroffer, and Connie needs your signature,” he said. “But I wanted to check with you first. This happened really fast, and the more I think about it, it’s fine if you want to wait. It’s even fine if you want to call the whole thing off. I want you to feel 100 percent comfortable with where we are.”
Becca took a big breath. Seemed like so much had happened just in the last hour. And even the last few minutes.
She stood and looked in her husband’s eyes. “I’m realizing more and more how incredibly blessed I am to have this opportunity with Worth & Purpose, and to be able to write a book because of that platform. And neither of these opportunities is dependent upon where we live.” She paused, a peace settling within her. “But your opportunity is dep
endent upon where we live, and I want to be supportive. If it means we have to move to Hope Springs, we move to Hope Springs.” She smiled. “Thank God there’s an airport in reasonable driving distance.”
Todd looked surprised. “Wasn’t expecting to hear that,” he said. “So we’re really doing this? Our lives are really about to change?”
Becca’s mind went to the flurry of activity on her computer. “I think they already have.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Monday, January 4
Janelle had been putting up a brave front, encouraging Grandma Geri, telling her she’d get through this just fine. Using Travis’s word—one that spoke to her on many levels—she’d even taken to saying that together they would press through any difficulty that arose. But early this morning, on the day of the first chemo treatment, Janelle’s resolve had been shaken already.
She’d awakened at four thirty to the sound of Grandma Geri’s coughing. She’d heard her coughing in the night almost every night since she’d been there, and always poked her head in the room to make sure she was okay. But this sounded different, moved her out of bed faster. When she knelt at Grandma Geri’s bedside, she saw little spots on the sheet and realized her grandmother was coughing up blood. They’d spent the next few minutes in the bathroom, Janelle watching in horror as Grandma Geri vomited blood.
In tears, Janelle had helped her back into bed and then called Dr. Reynolds, who’d said not to hesitate to call, no matter the time. He was calm. This was expected, and he’d already informed Grandma Geri—which explained why Janelle was more panicked than she. He’d said to take her temperature, and if there was no fever, they could simply go to the hospital at the time scheduled for chemo.
Janelle didn’t go back to sleep. She powered up her laptop—thankful the family had persuaded her grandmother some time ago to get the Internet—and read beyond the pamphlets Dr. Reynolds had left. Clicking through page after page about this disease and what they could expect, she almost felt sick herself. She felt the urge to close her laptop and pray, an area where she’d slacked off since David’s death. It was almost as if she was afraid to pray, afraid to trust, since there were no guarantees. But it suddenly struck her that that’s what these next few weeks and months would be about more than anything—praying as never before. And trusting as never before.
Even now, as they walked into the reception area of the hospital’s infusion center, she was praying, Lord, be her strength.
“Miss Geri!” A middle-aged woman with a megawatt smile approached them in cartoon-figure nurse scrubs. She hugged Grandma Geri. “So good to see you again, though I hate that it’s under these circumstances.”
Grandma Geri held the woman’s hand. “I was hoping you’d still be here. You took good care of my Elwood.”
“Had to fight to be the one to take care of you.” She looked around conspiratorially. “Got you this.” She held up a snack bag filled with craisins, nuts, and pretzels.
Grandma Geri clapped her hands together and laughed softly to herself. “Never heard of craisins till we came here. Elwood and I got addicted to those things.” She turned. “Sylvia, this is my granddaughter Janelle.”
“Nice to meet you, Sylvia.” They shook hands.
“Nice to meet you too. I’m one of the palliative care nurses here.” Sylvia’s eyes were warm. “It’s awesome you’re here to support your grandmother. Are you planning to stay with her today for the infusion?”
“Told her not to.” Grandma Geri lifted her canvas bag. “Got plenty to keep me occupied.” She bowed her head over to Janelle. “I know there’s something you could be doing.”
“There is. This.” Janelle smiled. “Tiffany’ll have a good time hanging with Stephanie today.”
“Sure is a blessing having Stephanie there,” Grandma Geri said. “Feel like I’m really getting to know her.”
Sylvia ushered Grandma Geri to a seat in the waiting area, double-checking the chart. “Okay, Miss Geri, you’ve been to radiology and you’ve met with Dr. Peters. We just need to wait a few more minutes for the results from your blood work to make sure everything’s good. You’ve been taking your meds, right?”
“How could I forget? My granddaughter pesters me the minute it’s time for the next one.”
Sylvia fist-bumped Janelle. “I remember, Miss Geri,” she said, “when you pestered Mr. Sanders about taking his.” She smiled. “It’s good for you. It’ll hopefully lessen any side effects from the chemotherapy.”
“I couldn’t get her to eat anything this morning,” Janelle said. “Not even a piece of toast.”
Grandma Geri wrinkled up her nose. “Felt too nauseous.”
“Okay.” Sylvia was nodding. “Craisins to the rescue then. Go ahead and try a few, my dear.”
Janelle was already counting Sylvia an answer to prayer.
Sylvia put a hand on top of Grandma Geri’s. “I know you’re familiar with a lot of the procedure, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to pretend you know nothing and explain what will happen when we start the infusion.”
Grandma Geri nodded.
“This is officially chemo cycle one, day one. The oncologist has ordered five different drips administered through the IV. I’ll tell you about each as we do them. I don’t expect you to experience any pain or discomfort while it’s being administered, but you let me know immediately if you do.”
“Okay.”
Sylvia continued. “You’ll be laid back and comfy in the recliner. I’ve got a blanket in case you get cool. I know you’ve got your bag of books and magazines there, and there’s also a television and DVD player.”
“Oh, and I forgot to give you this.” Janelle reached into her purse and pulled something out.
Grandma Geri frowned. “What’s that?”
“An iPod. I loaded all your favorite gospel songs on here for you to listen to if you want.”
“All that music on that little thing?”
“You’ll love it, Grandma. Got you a nice soft set of headphones too.”
Grandma Geri looked immediately curious. “Can I test it real quick?”
“By all means.” Sylvia gave Janelle a thumbs-up.
Janelle put the headphones on her and showed her how to select an album and play it.
Grandma Geri scrolled through. “You got Shirley Caesar on here? Let me see.” She pushed a button and a smile spread across her face. “You got to be kidding me. What will they come up with next?” She patted Janelle’s knee. “You’re an angel, baby.”
Grandma Geri had the headphones to her ears still, so Sylvia got up to check on something, giving her a moment. Janelle used the time to check messages. She had a text from Kory. Just one line.
Sheriff served me today.
Kory had been sitting at his office desk for the last half hour, emotions of every sort coursing through his veins—anger, frustration, hurt, resentment. He couldn’t believe the sheriff had shown up at his job to serve him with divorce papers. Shelley knew she didn’t have to do that. He hadn’t stood in her way, hadn’t made the process difficult. She could’ve served him by certified mail and he would’ve signed for it. Instead she involved an officer of the law and put their domestic issues on blast—in front of colleagues with whom he was still building a reputation. They knew his situation, but this little stunt didn’t do him any favors. Made his life look messy, spilling over as it did into the workplace. Seemed her every act was calculated to be vindictive.
Funny she couldn’t give half as much thought to her own daughter. She didn’t care to truly get to know Dee, made obvious by the Christmas gift she’d sent—a stuffed teddy bear, though for a year and a half Dee had had an aversion to them due to a bad dream. And now that Dee had an opportunity to observe Janelle and Tiffany, she was asking more questions than ever. On the way to preschool this morning she’d said, “Why don’t I have a mommy?”
It crushed his heart. “You do have a mommy, sweetheart,” he’d said.
“Not a real momm
y. Not one that talks to me and does stuff with me.”
He’d made excuses for Shelley, as usual. “It’s hard because your mommy’s far away, but she loves you and will make it up to you.”
Then he’d come to work and gotten hit with this.
He was tired of building Shelley up in Dee’s eyes. Tired of taking the high road when she was guaranteed to take the low one. And of course . . . of course she had to serve him right at the one-year anniversary of the separation. Was it that bad being married to me, Shelley? You had to rub my nose in it, let me know you want out as fast as you can?
He grabbed his cell phone from the desk. Without another thought, he dialed her up.
She answered on the first ring. “You must’ve had a visitor this morning.”
Did she sound amused? “What’s the deal, Shelley? You hadn’t twisted the knife enough, so you had to add a sheriff to the mix?”
“Leave it to you to take it personally. It’s part of the process, Kory.”
“No, Shelley, it’s not part of the process. It’s an option in the process. But as a litigator, you already know that. You made it personal when you embarrassed me in front of my colleagues.”
“What could you be embarrassed about at a country law firm like that? Seriously.”
“That’s nice, Shelley. This firm and these people are beneath you, are they?”
“They’re beneath you too, Kory. Have you forgotten? You were top of your class at Chicago, editor-in-chief of the law review, on the fast track at one of the largest law firms in the world. And you threw it all away.”
“Really? That’s how you’ve spun the story in your mind? My version says you sabotaged my career.”
He was convinced by now that that’s what she’d done. When she and Martin decided they’d leave their spouses and move in together, life would clearly be more convenient if Kory were gone from the firm. Martin had the power to lobby in favor of other associates making partner, and against him.
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