by Paula Mowery
“Yep, I believe so.”
“Grace is absolutely beside herself with excitement.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She had me up this morning before six, ordering me to come get you.”
Hope’s chest warmed. She studied Sean’s face. Did he share Grace’s enthusiasm? Or, was this a temporary arrangement until she fully recovered? She bit her bottom lip to stop a sudden rush of moisture in her eyes. Why couldn’t it be different? Why couldn’t it be as it appeared to everyone else? A family of three.
The ride to the condo was quiet. Sean pulled into the parking space, jumped out, and met her as she struggled to stand up. “Here, let me help you.”
“The doctor said I should be able to get rid of the crutches soon.”
“Yeah, but right now you need them.” He narrowed his gaze at her as if scolding her.
He steadied her with a hand on her waist. Warmth spread through her. Stop. She met his gaze again. “Look, I’m sorry to be so much trouble. I should be out of your hair in a few weeks.”
He gazed into her eyes with a pained expression on his face. “Let’s get something clear. As far as I’m concerned, I want you to stay in my hair.” He chuckled.
“What?”
He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “I hate the thought of you leaving, because…I love you.”
Hope’s eyes widened, and her free hand covered her mouth.
Sean rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. It’s crazy.”
She shook her head. “It’s not crazy.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I fell in love with you, but…”
Sean put a finger to her lips and stopped her. “No but.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. She allowed her body to relax into his, then slid her head to his chest. He stroked her back.
Hope’s pulse pounded, her heart nearly burst. Sean had actually declared his love for her.
* * *
Sean’s eyes misted over. Relief spread through his body like a tonic. Hope loved him.
She pushed back, looking him in the eyes. “What do we do now?”
“Well, Mrs. Holland, this is where I carry you over the threshold right proper like.” He scooped her into his arms. She squealed and placed her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
This is right, Son.
The hairs on his neck perked.
* * *
Six weeks later, Hope, minus the crutches, met her groom and Grace in the front of the church filled with family and friends. God was too good. Hope had a family and a home.
They each recited vows they had made in the pastor’s office, yet this time both knew the other’s heart. Just when Hope thought the ceremony was over, the pastor asked Sean to share a few words.
Her groom held both of her hands and gazed into her eyes. “I had strayed from God, but He pursued me, giving me Hope and Grace.” He chuckled. “Puns intended.” He reached down, picking up Grace in his left arm. He grasped Hope’s hand again with his right, planting a kiss on her lips. “Now, let’s eat dessert, because it’s a special ’casion.”
Grace pumped her fist in the air. “Yessss!”
INHERITANCE
Paula Mowery
CHAPTER ONE
Music chimed from the organ. I opened my bulletin to get the page number for the final hymn. My gaze once again rested upon the sermon title for today, “Trusting God in Everything.” Trust God? I didn’t have anything left to entrust to Him. Mom was gone. My husband had divorced me for another woman, and yesterday, I’d lost my job. I wasn’t sure I could trust God.
At thirty years old, with no special training or schooling of any kind and now no income, I would be out on the streets.
After the benediction, I hurried to my car, plopped into the driver’s seat, and mulled over my life or lack of one.
Maybe I should go see Granny. She called almost every day to check up on me. She continued to hint at my visiting. But, I couldn’t afford the gas for the car to make the drive from Knoxville to Greeneville and back. Granny would help me, but I needed to make some kind of life on my own, didn’t I? I couldn’t sneak off to Granny Olivia’s world no matter how much I might enjoy the escape. The reality was, I was a single, un-college-educated woman with few prospects.
I shook my head in disgust as I steered into a parking spot at the apartment complex. Granny Olivia would scold me good if she heard me put myself down. And, if I was going to trust him, God needed to help me, because my “everything” was a total mess, and I was pretty angry about it.
I trudged to my apartment door, shoved it open, and slammed it behind me. I kicked off my dress shoes and glanced at the phone screen, shocked to have received a voicemail. I snagged the phone and dialed in my code.
“This message is for Alexandra Lyndon. I regret to inform you that your grandmother, Olivia Lyndon, has had a stroke. You need to come quickly. It’s only a matter of time.” The formal voice related the hospital’s location.
I closed my eyes, stopping hot tears. I let out a breath and opened my eyes. What had I done to deserve all this? Was God going to take the last precious person from me?
* * *
Arriving at the hospital an hour later, I skidded into the first available parking spot. I raced to the information desk inside the hospital entrance where a white-haired lady sat wearing a bright pink shirt.
“I need to find Olivia Lyndon, please.”
The woman tilted her head and smiled. “Yes, dear Miss Olivia. She’s in ICU—just up...”
I didn’t wait for instructions. I sprinted for the elevators and hoped I wasn’t too late. Following the signs, I found the double doors leading to the ICU and pressed the call button to the right on the wall.
A voice squawked, “May I help you?”
“Yes. I need to see my granny—Olivia Lyndon.”
A nurse emerged, took my arm, and led me to a small room. I slowed when Granny Olivia’s fragile form came into view. Her eyes were closed, and her face was pale. Was I too late?
Her eyes fluttered open, and her head turned toward me. A weak smile upturned her mouth. I hurried to her side. “I’m sorry, Granny.”
She shook her head and reached for my hand. “My precious, Alex. I love you.” Her voice was barely audible. I leaned closer. “I have wanted to tell you...” She closed her eyes and breathed in. She expelled the air and opened her eyes again.
I patted her hand gently. “It’s okay. Don’t tire yourself. I’m here. Let’s get you better.”
A crooked smile returned. “No,” she whispered. “The card. Call her.” Her hand went limp in mine.
Tears gushed like a torrent. “Oh, Granny, don’t go.” I fixed my gaze on the nurse, standing on the other side of the bed. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if this was it.
“She’s been slipping in and out of consciousness.” She placed something into my hand, squeezing it into my palm. “Here’s the card.”
I glanced down. It was a lawyer’s name and number. I crumpled it in my palm and gazed at Granny one more time. I should have been here long ago. The silence in the room deafened me and only made me more aware that once she was gone I would be utterly alone.
But, I wouldn’t accept it. Granny was strong. She just needed time to recover. I shoved the business card into my jeans pocket. I was pretty sure I understood what the lawyer contact was for, but I wouldn’t need it.
“Ma’am?” The nurse spoke in a soft tone. “The visiting time is up for now here in the ICU. You’ll have to go to the waiting room until the next visitation.”
I froze. Now I was being forced to leave her?
The nurse patted my arm. “Should there be any change, I’ll come for you.” She smiled.
After kissing Granny’s forehead, I meandered to a corner chair in the waiting area and slumped into it. My only entertainment choices were a raunchy talk show blaring on the TV or a stack of outdated magazines on the table beside me.
&n
bsp; A hospital volunteer carried a basket filled with crackers and snacks. When she offered me a choice, I gladly accepted much to the delight of my grumbling stomach.
During the next visitation time, there was no change in Granny. She just lay there in a deep sleep. I was tempted to shake her. When I did touch her, the nurse informed me that Granny had gone into a coma.
Her life seemed to ebb away just like my courage. If she left, I couldn’t get through anything difficult. Not by myself.
At about ten thirty that evening, the few other ICU lounge inhabitants who remained grabbed blankets and pillows they retrieved from a small closet. One of the women extended a blanket and pillow toward me. “Are you staying tonight?”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “Yes. Thank you.”
I did my best to stretch out and find some comfortable position in an awkward fold-out chair. Exhaustion finally won out over discomfort.
Bustling in the lounge woke me early the next morning. Time for the first visitation. I slung my legs around and jumped up, smoothing at my hair and crumpled clothing. The line of anxious visitors formed, and I fell in behind. I shuffled to Granny’s cubicle and stared at her still motionless body. The nurse’s voice echoed from across the room. “Still no change.”
I nodded and eased into a nearby chair.
“I’ll be right back.” She padded out.
Propping my forearms on the bed, I leaned my chin on them. My gaze never left Granny’s face. “Please wake up and talk to me,” I whispered.
Sounds of families consoling one another reverberated around the walkway outside the cubicle. I shivered. I sat up and clutched my arms across my waist and rocked. God, if You will just let her wake up and be okay, I’ll do whatever You want. Even trust. If that’s what it takes, I will.
“Miss, are you all right?”
My head jerked around.
The nurse had returned. “You need to get something to eat, honey, before the next visitation. You have to take care of yourself.”
“Yes, thank you.” I shuffled back to the ICU Lounge and plopped into the cold vinyl chair. Not sure how I’ll pay for something to eat.
“Miss Olivia, Olivia Lyndon. Is this where she is?”
My ears perked at the mention of Granny’s name. I stood and hurried over to the desk. “Excuse me, are you looking for Olivia Lyndon?”
The older man spun around and looked me in the eyes. “Why, yes.” He leaned closer to my face and narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you her granddaughter?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Alex.”
“Boy howdy, yes.” He patted my back heartily, knocking the air from my lungs. “I’m Bart Smith. I’m a deacon over at the church.”
“So nice of you to come to check on Granny Olivia. Here, let’s sit over here.” I gestured toward my staked out chair.
Mr. Smith crossed the room in two large strides and plunked into a seat which he dwarfed. He was broad and tall and sported a worn blue blazer whose buttons hadn’t attached with the holes in some time. His face was round, covered with a white beard. The hair on his head wound around his head, leaving a smooth shiny top. Rather resembled a jolly Santa Claus. “So, how is Sister Olivia?”
“I’m afraid she’s gone into a coma.”
Mr. Smith tsked through his teeth. “I’m so sorry.” He reached into his coat and produced a white envelope which he extended in my direction. “This is for you. Hospital food is mighty costly.”
I held the packet to my chest. “You…I don’t know… Thank you. This is so kind.”
Mr. Smith jumped to his feet. “I better be getting along. I’ll pass this information along to our prayer chain. They’ll be prayin’. And, should you need anything, just call me.” He shoved a business card into my hand. “That’s my deacon card with my number on it.”
“Thank you again.” I glanced at my watch. Just enough time to run down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat and be back in time for the next visitation.
The visits were always the same. I stared at Granny’s unmoving body, willing her to wake up. Nothing changed.
That evening I bedded down again on the awful reclining chair. I squirmed for two hours until falling into a light doze.
I jolted awake at a gentle tap on my shoulder. Squinting, I recognized the nurse and sat straight up.
“Please come with me.” Her voice was low and serious.
Springing to my feet, I clumsily followed her into a small room, not the ICU as I expected. A doctor already stood in the room. My heart pounded, rattling my chest.
“Miss Lyndon, I’m sorry. Your grandmother has passed.”
My breath caught. This couldn’t be happening.
“Do you know about arrangements? Did she have that planned?” The doctor gazed at me and adjusted his glasses.
The card. “I need to make a phone call.”
“Okay.” The doctor nodded. He and the nurse exited the room, closing the door behind them.
I leaned against the wall and slid my back down until I hit the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. She was really gone. What did I do now? I glanced at my watch—7:15. I squinted at the day and date in the small box on my watch’s face. Tuesday. Thank goodness it had that reading. I had no idea what day it was. I pulled myself together long enough to make it to the ICU restroom. I slipped inside and bolted the door. I stared at my reflection in the mirror over the sink. “So much for trust.” Tears spilled over my cheeks and dripped off my chin. Sobs shook me to the point that I could hardly catch my breath. I smacked the counter until my hand tingled. Finally, I gritted my teeth and squared my shoulders. I splashed some cold water on my face and tamed my hair with a band I found in my pocket.
I dashed to my car and slid into the driver’s seat, pulling out the card the nurse had pressed into my hand. I dialed the phone number on the card and was given directions to a law office.
I steered my car into a parking space in front of the law office and shuffled toward the entrance. I took a deep breath and let it out as I opened the glass door. A tall blonde dressed in a dark pantsuit met me. “Ms. Lyndon?” I nodded. “Follow me.”
We stepped into a medium-sized office near the front lobby area. A woman sat at a large desk studying a laptop screen. She glanced in my direction and stood. “Ms. Lyndon, I’m Mrs. Sutton.” She offered me a chair with a sweep of her hand. I sat and waited as she looked at a stack of papers on the desk. She peered at me through the top of her glasses. “Mrs. Lyndon had everything planned for the funeral. Will Friday be acceptable? That gives a couple of days to get things set. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” My answer squeaked out. “Do I need to contact...?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. All the arrangements have been taken care of. I knew what to do as soon as I received your call. Your grandmother had it all set up. She didn’t want you to have to deal with all of this.” Her tone was nonchalant.
I nodded when she gazed at me expectantly.
“Good. It will be at Grace Baptist. Do you know it?” Her voice seemed devoid of emotion—flat.
I nodded. “Yes, that was her church.”
“There will be a service at six o’clock. The pastor there obviously has the instructions. Then, I want to read the will here at my office next Thursday. Though there’s not much left to say. You have the house.” She shrugged. “And, Mrs. Lyndon alluded to the fact that your inheritance was in the Word. At any rate, can you be here? That is the soonest I can get to this.”
“Yes.” I found myself not hesitating to answer my availability. My apartment in Knoxville was an hour and a half away—not too far to be available when needed. Mrs. Sutton gave me a few other particulars and I left.
My mind whirred with everything Mrs. Sutton had said.
Finally I was in my car headed for home. But, I didn’t feel like I was going home. I was leaving the only real home I had ever known. Mere weeks ago Granny deeded her house to me. She called explaining her failing health. I should’ve visited but work kept m
e away.
By the time I pulled into my parking spot at the apartment building late Tuesday evening, I had made up my mind. I had Wednesday and Thursday to pack up what little I owned so I would be ready to truly go home. There was nothing left for me here. At least in Greeneville I had Granny’s house—my home. Since the apartment came furnished, I didn’t have to worry about any furniture. My belongings fit into a few boxes. I used every last ounce of cleaning materials to leave the apartment spotless for the next tenant.
Late Thursday afternoon, I dropped the keys off to the landlord and started the trek back to Greeneville. I had been wandering in the desert, but I knew all along I would end up in the “Promised Land” of Granny’s world—home. My body tingled all over. I had to be careful not to press on the gas too much just to arrive faster.
* * *
As he gazed over the hazy skyline of New York, Chase Carson wondered why he hadn’t heard from Miss Olivia. She had never been tardy before. Most of the time, she would contact him weeks before her deadline to say she was ready for him to come for a visit. She didn’t need him, but he needed her. He never tired of flying to East Tennessee to have some sweet tea and a chat with Miss Olivia. It was hard to believe Chase had been going to her house for almost five years. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the edge of his desk. He closed his eyes and contemplated what to do.
He would find out for himself what was going on. He buzzed his assistant. “Get me a plane ticket to Greeneville.”
CHAPTER TWO
Driving to Granny Olivia’s house, my mind flooded with memories of the many summers and holidays at the old house. There were those mothers who would have banned their daughter’s presence because she bore a baby out of wedlock, but not Granny. She didn’t approve, but she didn’t punish. She forgave and then welcomed us with open arms. I enjoyed going there with my mother, but I really enjoyed the times I stayed with Granny by myself—just the two of us.
People dubbed Granny eccentric, but that was her appeal. She was unique. All who truly knew her recognized her to be a woman of strong faith who was unafraid to show it. She was independent. Though widowed early in life she had taken care of herself and her daughter. If only I could boast the same faith and independence.
