Open Arms

by Traci DePree

  “Mmm. Good stuff, Katie.” He paused. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Carl Wilson called for you yesterday.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “He was looking for you; had some questions about the booths for the afterprom party.” Paul took another bite of his omelet.

  “And...?” Kate said.

  “We got to talking, and it turns out he’s taking a mechanics class at the vo-tech in Chattanooga.”

  “Did you ask if he and Ashley Williams are dating?”

  “How could I just blurt that out? ‘Are you dating Ashley Williams? Maybe having a baby with her?’ Seemed too awkward to me.” He took a swig of his milk. “Though when I think back, I wonder if you’re onto something.”

  “What makes you say that?” The cheese-filled omelet tasted especially good to Kate, with just enough onion to give it punch.

  “Do you remember when I’d gone over to help Carl with cutting some wood? It was a couple months back, and Scout had gotten in the way.”

  Kate recalled the incident.

  Paul went on. “The dog got his tail cut, so we rushed him over to see the vet. It hadn’t really seemed like much at the time, but now that I’m thinking back on it, Ashley did seem quite attentive, and Carl seemed to like her admiration. She hovered over that dog, but I didn’t get the feeling it was because of the dog. You know what I mean? It was just the way Ashley looked at Carl.”

  THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Kate thought about what Paul had said about Carl. Sure, he was a nice young man. But nice young men made mistakes too.

  When she finished her housework, she made her way to the washer and dryer area, which always seemed to be heaped with more loads to do than she had time for.

  Her cell phone buzzed to life in her purse, and she rushed to answer it. When she glanced at the caller ID, she saw that it was Brenna Phillips. She glanced at her watch as she hit the Talk button. It was two thirty.

  “Brenna?” Kate said.

  The sound on the other end was human, though there were no decipherable words in the mix. The girl was sobbing and gulping big breaths of air as she spoke.

  “Brenna, I’m not getting any of this,” Kate said. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “It’s Marlee. She didn’t show up for choir, so I called her on my cell between classes. She hung up on me.”

  Kate was puzzled. Didn’t teenagers act that way all the time? Drama-queen scenes followed by apologies and forgotten misdeeds?

  “Did you have an argument?” Kate asked.

  “No. It wasn’t like that...” She inhaled, and Kate took the opportunity to speak.

  “Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know. She’s never been this upset.”

  Kate’s pulse quickened as worry edged up. If Marlee was Mouse, had she started spotting again?

  “School’s out in half an hour,” Kate said. “How about if I pick you up? We can go to Marlee’s together.”

  “Okay,” Brenna gulped.

  Kate heard her take a deep breath as if she was trying to calm herself.

  “When did you talk to her?”

  “A few minutes ago.” She sobbed. “She was going on about her grandmother.”

  “I’ll see you in a few, okay?”

  Brenna agreed, and Kate pressed the End button on the phone.

  “She was going on about her grandmother.” The comment struck Kate, and with it a collection of other comments and observations. The nursing-home receptionist had said that Sarah Jones was “much better now.” Now? So what had happened before, when she wasn’t better? Dots began to connect. Marlee’s moodiness, her close relationship with her grandmother...

  Kate headed to her Honda, and within seconds the engine rumbled to life. She made her way down Smoky Mountain Road toward the high school, her thoughts untangling. Marlee hadn’t muttered something about herself, hadn’t told Brenna she was bleeding. She’d mentioned her grandmother. Just how long had the woman been in the nursing home? Kate hadn’t thought to ask that. But as each realization came to her, she began to conclude that Marlee wasn’t Mouse. But she was still a girl with heavy burdens to bear.

  She maneuvered the car into the school’s parking lot where buses and cars jockeyed toward the exits. Brenna was out front, so Kate pulled up to the curb and the girl got in.

  “Thank you so much for doing this,” Brenna said as she slid her backpack off and set it on the floor at her feet.

  “I’m glad you called me,” Kate said as she pulled in the line of cars aimed at the main street.

  The girl looked anxiously through the windshield as she directed Kate to Marlee’s house. She wrung her hands together like someone waiting for terrible news.

  When they arrived at the Jones’s bungalow-style house on Hamilton Road, Kate put the gearshift into park and killed the engine. The miniblinds were drawn tight against the day’s sunshine. Kate walked up to the front porch. There was no doorbell, so she knocked on the door. No one answered. She tried to peek through the miniblinds, but all she could see was darkness.

  “No one’s answering the door,” she told Brenna.

  Brenna opened the screen door and knocked loudly on the wooden front door.

  No sounds emanated from inside. She knocked harder. Still no answer. A short moment later, a car pulled into the driveway. A man climbed out of a Chevy pickup and looked at Kate and Brenna.

  “Mr. Jones?” Kate said, walking toward him. He nodded and smiled, revealing even, straight teeth. He was a young, good-looking man with dark, close-cut hair, graying just at the temples, a dimple in his clean-shaven chin and chocolate-brown eyes.

  “This is Mrs. Hanlon,” Brenna offered, pointing to Kate. “She leads the youth group.” The two shook hands.

  “What’s going on?” he said, his gaze turning to Brenna, whose face was still red from crying.

  “I talked to Marlee on the phone. She was so upset. I was afraid...”

  Marlee’s dad turned to the house and unlocked the door. Kate and Brenna followed close behind. All was quiet except for the sound of a ticking clock and their footfalls.

  “Marlee,” her dad called, setting his keys on the hall table and moving to the stairs. “Marlee,” his voice rose as he took the stairs two at a time.

  Kate and Brenna followed, though at a distance. He threw Marlee’s bedroom door open, and there she was, bawling her eyes out.

  She lifted her red eyes to her father, and he knelt down alongside her bed. “What happened?”

  “It’s Grandma,” she began, swiping at the wetness on her cheeks. “I called the nursing home after math. I wanted to tell Grandma that I got an A on that test I was worried about, and the nurse said that she had another stroke. They said they had tried to call you. I tried you too but you didn’t pick up. I just couldn’t stay in school anymore—”

  She erupted in tears again, and her father swept her into his arms as if she were a little girl instead of a big teenager. When Marlee sat back on the bed, he looked at his cell phone. His face fell.

  “My phone was on silent.” He dialed a number and turned his back.

  Kate moved next to Marlee and held her hand with Brenna on the other side, holding her while they watched him. The girl reached for a tissue on the nightstand by her bed and blew her nose loudly.

  “This is David Jones. I’m calling about my mother.” He inhaled loudly. “Oh no,” he said. “What time?” There was a pause after each question. “Do I need to call the— Oh, okay. I’ll call him then. Thank you.”

  When he turned toward them, the expression on his face said it all. “Marlee, honey. Grandma...just died.”

  Marlee’s tears returned full force, and Brenna wrapped her arms around her friend.

  “I knew something like this was going to happen,” Marlee wailed.

  Kate stroked the girl’s hair, then she looked at Marlee’s father and moved to a chair so he could comfort her. David sat on the floral-print bedspread next to Marlee. He was clearly in shock. He shook his head as if
he couldn’t believe what was happening.

  “I guess I’ll need to talk to someone about a funeral,” he said.

  “Do you have a church home?” Kate asked.

  He shook his head. “But she went to Faith Community, so I suppose they should bury her.”

  Tears coursed down his cheeks. Kate’s heart broke for the father and daughter. The teenager sobbed and sobbed as Brenna patted Marlee’s hand.

  “Do you have any family you need to call?” Kate asked.

  David shook his head. “No, it was just us and Mom.” He gazed tenderly at his daughter. “We thought she was going to pull out of it, come back home. Marlee’s been beside herself with worry.”

  He reached for his daughter’s hand and grasped it tightly. “Ever since my wife died, Marlee and my mom have been really close.”

  “It’s like losing Mom all over again,” Marlee moaned.

  KATE SAT WITH THE JONESES for over an hour, consoling and comforting as he called co-workers and friends of his mother’s. Finally David called the pastor at Faith Community and the funeral home in Pine Ridge. Both agreed to meet with the man to make all the proper arrangements the following morning.

  Kate thought about canceling their counseling session with the Lewises that night, but when friends began to arrive at the Jones’s home to offer their support and encouragement, she thought better of it.

  Kate took her leave reluctantly.

  “Thank you for coming,” David said as he walked Kate to her car.

  “It’s the least I could do,” Kate insisted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chad Lewis sat on the farthest end of the couch, so far from his wife that he looked as if he were trying to climb straight through the cushioned arm. After seeing the grief that the Joneses were suffering, his childishness almost made Kate angry, yet she knew that his actions stemmed from his own hurts and rejections. Her heart went out to him.

  “Chad’s been busy all week,” Kim was saying. “When I do see him, he doesn’t want to talk.”

  Chad leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees as he spoke. “Kim doesn’t seem to understand that this is the busy part of the year for me. Even taking off to come to these sessions is difficult. I simply have a lot of work right now.”

  Kate glanced at Kim as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Chad followed Kate’s gaze and then threw up his hands when he saw his wife.

  “You see,” he said, “I can’t win. I make my living preparing tax returns, and it’s April. It’s no different than a farmer working the fields during harvest. My job comes with busy times and lax times. It’s not like I can run off to Rock City like we used to. I have responsibilities!”

  “Is that why you’re crying, Kim?” Paul asked quietly.

  Kim shook her head. “No.” She paused for a moment, then sat up straighter. “I understand that Chad has to work harder at tax time. I get that.” She looked at her husband. “It’s about how he treats me. He thinks being busy means he can ignore me completely when he’s home. I don’t know why we thought we’d ever make good parents. We’re a total mess.”

  “I don’t ignore you.”

  “Kim...Chad,”—Kate kept her tone calm as her eyes met Paul’s—“here’s what I’m hearing. You tell me if I’m right.”

  She went on. “I’m hearing that you really miss your husband, Kim, especially during tax season, and that you, Chad, hope for more understanding from your wife because you’re so busy and tired.” She looked first at Kim and then at Chad. “Is that right?”

  “I suppose,” Chad conceded.

  “Do you understand that Kim misses you?” Kate asked, wanting to get more out of the young man.

  He folded his hands in front of him. Finally he said, “Of course I know that she misses me. But when we’re together, all we talk about is how much she wants a baby, and I feel...” His words trailed away, and he sighed.

  “Not talking about it won’t bring us any resolution,” Kim said.

  Paul lifted his hands to stop them from saying more. “Did you complete your assignment?” he asked.

  Kim nodded and pulled a sheet of paper from her purse, which was resting on the floor. She went to hand it to Paul, but he said, “No, read it to us.”

  She glanced at her husband before speaking, then began: “Rules for arguing: (1) Always show respect and love for each other; (2) No interrupting; (3) No name-calling; (4) No changing the subject; (5) Always listen, even if it’s painful; (6) Be willing to look at yourself; don’t point the finger back at the other person; (7) Don’t go to bed angry; (8) Pray for each other every day; and (9) Offer one word of praise to each other daily.”

  She raised her head, waiting for Kate and Paul’s response. “I would add a couple things,” Paul suggested. “For listening, I would add something about looking for the real meaning behind what the other person is saying. And also, always assume the best.”

  Chad’s brows knit together in obvious confusion.

  Paul clarified, “To the core, Kim loves you. That guides her. That’s what I mean by assuming the best. She wants to be close to you and be loved by you. That’s her motive, though it doesn’t always come out that way when she speaks.”

  Chad’s face softened, and he took a deep breath. “It’s my motive too,” he said, turning toward her on the couch.

  Kim began to sob. Chad pulled her to him and held her in his arms.

  “I’m sorry I’m so insecure,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I’m not more sensitive to your needs,” he answered.

  Kate knew it was a big step.

  When the session neared its end, Kim and Chad seemed to have crossed the invisible barrier that had held them apart. They even held hands as Paul gave them their assignment for the following week.

  Kate brought out the snack and each straightened and reached for the plates Kate had set on the coffee table earlier. Their tears had dried, replaced by calm.

  “That looks delicious, Mrs. Hanlon,” Chad said, pointing to the hot cinnamon rolls on the platter.

  Kate smiled at the young man, offering to serve him one of the large rolls.

  When everyone had their snack in hand and was enjoying the taste of sugar and cinnamon, Paul said, “There’s something else I’d like you to consider, especially now that tax season is almost over.” He looked at Chad. “And that is finding healthy outlets. When we focus too much on ourselves, it’s easy to get depressed and feel sorry for ourselves. We start to nitpick at our partners because we think if only they would change, we’d be happy. But that isn’t where happiness comes from. Happiness is a by-product of a life lived for God. That’s why the Bible says that to find our lives, we must lose them.”

  He looked at Kim, kindness in his blue eyes. “I’m talking about taking a break from trying to have a baby and using this time to do an activity, such as volunteering. There’s nothing like reaching out to others to put life in perspective.”

  Kim turned to look at her husband. “I would be willing to do something like that.”

  “After next week, I’ll have time again,” Chad said.

  “What do you suggest?” Kim asked.

  “It depends on your interests,” Paul said. “You could visit the nursing home in Pine Ridge or do fund-raising for charitable causes. Volunteer at the library...”

  “The afterprom committee could use a young, vibrant couple like you to help out with our car-wash fund-raiser on Friday,” Kate chimed in. “Or perhaps you could help out with the Faith Freezer Program. I’ll be there cooking next week if you’d like to come. Also, we’re looking for someone, or a couple, to take over the youth group.”

  “That’s quite a list.” Kim laughed.

  “The point is,” Paul said gently, “if God isn’t going to give you a baby, you still have to live your lives, and he has a very good plan for you.”

  Kim’s eyes clouded, and Kate knew she was considering what her future would be like without children. “Can we pray for you?”
Paul asked.

  Kim nodded.

  “Dear heavenly Father,” he began, “you know our needs and desires better than anyone. You know what makes us happy, and you want good things for us—good marriages that support us through life. Please teach Kim and Chad to listen to each other and truly hear. Teach them to be content, knowing that you love them.”

  KATE CLEARED THE DISHES from the coffee table after the Lewises had gone, then went into the kitchen to wash them up. The sudsy water felt warm against her hands; there was something comforting about it. Paul set a plate on the counter next to the sink and pulled her to him. Kate leaned her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment.

  “I feel so bad for them,” she finally said.

  “God isn’t going to let them go,” Paul whispered to her neck.

  She felt his warm breath on her skin and she turned to hug him. “I know you’re right. I hope so.”

  She breathed deeply and moved back to the sink as Paul reached for a dishtowel.

  “Do you wonder if they would be having these struggles if they’d been able to have children off the bat?” Kate asked.

  “It’s hard to say. They could be just fine, or they’d have kids and these problems.”

  “I suppose...” She wiped a plate and set it carefully in the rinse water.

  “Every marriage has its struggles,” Paul said. “For some couples, it’s about finances, and for others, it’s personality conflicts or different philosophies for child rearing.”

  “So what are our struggles?” She tilted her head toward him, teasing him.

  “Besides the constant temptation I experience because of your baking? Other than that, I think we’re doing pretty well.”

  Kate laughed.

  “And you still laugh at my jokes,” he said.

  “You still surprise me with your wisdom.” Kate’s tone turned serious.

  “I do?”

  “All the time. You’re a man who loves God, and it comes through in all you do.”

  WHEN PAUL WENT into the bathroom to get ready for bed, Kate tugged the bed covers up, pulled out the Bible she kept in her nightstand, and turned to Psalm 139. She needed to think, to pray, for Marlee and David Jones, for Mouse and her unborn baby, and for Kim and Chad Lewis. Her heart was heavy for all of them.