Desert Gift

by Sally John

  Chapter 59

  Jill checked the side mirror and steered the twelve-passenger van into the left lane. No one honked at her freeway maneuver. “Hallelujah.”

  “Hm?” Beside her in the passenger seat, Viv shut her cell phone.

  “I said, how’s Dustin doing on his own with the bus?”

  “Fine.”

  “You shouldn’t keep texting him while he’s driving.”

  “He shouldn’t keep texting back while he’s driving.”

  Jill groaned to herself. Viv was a bundle of nerves over her bus in Dustin’s hands without her along to chaperone a trip to the Safari Park. It had been Viv’s own decision, though, a totally unnecessary one from Jill’s point of view.

  But she did not tell her sister that. After several days of depending on Viv and Marty’s gracious hospitality, she was not about to judge the whys and wherefores of Viv’s tour planning.

  Still, this day’s itineraries were skewed. Jill could have driven the van to the park with a handful of adventuresome seniors who planned to do the zip line. It could have been her first solo, an easy forty-five-minute drive.

  Dustin could have driven the bus with the six Casitas Pack members now packed into the van. Viv—cast-free but not yet ready to drive a tour—could have gone with him to supervise his drive through busy Los Angeles—

  “Oh no. I am so dense.” Jill was not being flippant. This was a fact. There had been several indicators in recent days of nonworking mental facilities. Disengaged from work and overly engaged with getting accustomed to life without Jack, her brain had gone into some limbo space.

  Viv said, “What did you miss now?”

  “Why you insisted I take this trip. We’re not going to the art museum, are we? We’re going to Grauman’s. You think I need to return to the handprint and then I’ll get over what happened there the last time.”

  Viv turned toward her, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Yes, you are way dense if you just now figured that out.”

  “Viv. I do not need this! I am doing fine.”

  “Sorry.” She cocked her head toward the back. “We disagree. We think it’s time.”

  Jill looked in the rearview mirror. Some of the ladies must have overheard. They smiled at her reflection.

  How she missed Agnes! She might trust Agnes with this crazy idea. But—

  Someone touched her shoulder. It was Cynthia, seated directly behind her. “God knows how much it hurts. But there is healing in going back and facing it. And we’ll all be with you.”

  Jill kept her eyes on the freeway traffic. Go back to where she first prayed to love the world in a big way? to where she first met Jack, the man who encouraged her to pursue her dreams?

  No way. Nohow. She did not need to be reminded of her failed plot to fix their marriage. Waking every morning in her sister’s house was reminder enough of that.

  * * *

  Jill figured she would drop the ladies off at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, park the van, and find a coffee shop. Agnes’s friends could shower all the love in the world on her, but she was not going to intentionally set foot in the place where her dreams were born and then crushed to smithereens.

  But Viv didn’t exit with the ladies. She went with her to park the van, and then she pulled on Jill’s arm to get her to move down the crowded sidewalk, hissing in her ear.

  They must look ridiculous.

  “Jill, if you won’t do this for yourself, do it for me. I cannot stand your moping any longer. I can’t. I simply can’t.”

  “Well, excuse me for being real with you. I’ll move to a hotel tomorrow. Tonight even.”

  “You can’t live in a hotel.”

  “I can’t live with Mom and Pops. But anyway, I’m not moping.”

  “Of course you’re moping. The last you heard, Jack wants out. Why wouldn’t you be angry and heartbroken and mopey?”

  “Why don’t you rub it in?” She was out of breath, trying to keep up with Viv’s long strides. “I am doing better though.”

  Viv stopped and looked at her, hand still gripped on her elbow. “Yes, you are, Jill. And I think I am too. But it’s just so hard. We’re all hurting. Even Marty feels bad.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “So will you please, please give this a try? Go in there and put your hands in Shirley’s prints and remember how you wanted to have a heart like hers.”

  “Vivvie, why are you making me do this?”

  “Because this is where you get your dreams and it’s time for a new one.”

  Jill wiped her blouse sleeve across her face. “You are the crummiest little sister.”

  “You’re the crummiest big one.” Viv kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

  For a moment Jill took in the scene before her. People milled around the forecourt, bending over, reading the famous names, touching the impressions of hands and feet and autographs, talking and laughing, calling out to one another. The red pagoda with its fierce dragons loomed skyward.

  Maybe Viv was right. Maybe it was time for a new dream.

  Jill walked the familiar route, over the names of actors famous when her grandparents were alive. Thinking of how many times she had visited and how it always thrilled her, she couldn’t help but smile. Other people had grand cathedrals or mountaintops or forests to speak to them. She had a silly tourist attraction.

  At Shirley Temple’s slab of concrete, she paused.

  Oh, well. Why not?

  She knelt and placed her hands in the little-girl prints. She read the inscription: Love to you all.

  Lord, whatever is next, I just want to love You.

  “They almost fit.”

  Random moments from the past week suddenly joined together in a pattern. Viv’s quick phone hang-ups, Dustin’s uncharacteristic stammering and blushing, Viv and Marty’s secretive whispering, Marty’s quirky smile that morning, today’s illogical driver arrangements, the senior ladies’ effusiveness beyond their typical style.

  Jill’s breath caught. She leaned back and looked up into the kindest eyes she had ever seen. The man’s smile finished her off, though. It was absolutely perfect with lips not too thin or too full, the corners of his mouth dimpling inward and upward just so.

  Jack held out his hand. “Actually I think they fit perfectly for a woman who has loved the world in a big way.”

  She placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. Still trying to catch up to the moment, Jill felt dazed. Jack was there. What did he want? She had things to do. An apartment to find. A van to drive.

  He smiled again. “Hi. I’m Jack Galloway.”

  It was an echo from twenty-five years ago.

  “Hi. Jill Wagner.”

  “Hello, Jill. I’ve honestly never done this before, walked up to a complete stranger to ask her if she’d like to go to dinner.”

  Jill smiled. “Are you asking me to dinner?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “You look like an angel.” He touched one of his own cheeks. “The Raphael-type cherub.”

  “That’s enough?”

  “It is for me.”

  “It’s original anyway.” She heard her coy tone.

  His smile diminished. “You’re in a relationship?”

  She wanted to see the smile again on those wonderful lips. “Oh no, not at all. I have to tell my sister. We rode together.”

  “All right.”

  Jill glanced around and saw Viv, right where she had been that first time. She waved her over. “Viv, this guy wants to take me to dinner.”

  Viv slipped out of character, burst into tears, and hurried away.

  Jill said, “She’s no fun.”

  “That’s okay. I forget what came next.”

  “Viv said, ‘Take her to dinner? Only dinner? You can take her for good.’ And then you looked like you were having second thoughts.”

  “I love you, Jill.”

  “That’s not what you said.”

  He stepped closer to her. “I’m hav
ing second thoughts about us. I don’t want to be separated from you. I don’t want to be divorced.”

  Jill looked at his hazel eyes, the pronounced crow’s-feet around them, the laugh creases at his mouth. He had aged in the last few months. Something else had come with the deeper lines. He seemed more real. Solid. Wiser?

  She had to ask. “Why now?”

  “Well . . .” He paused and seemed to wrestle with his answer.

  “Jack, I’m not taking notes. There’s no reason to hold back anymore.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I guess that’s the whole thing. In a nutshell, the truth finally sank in. I know I am loved and forgiven by you and God. Can you imagine the freedom in that? I don’t have to cross my t’s and dot my i’s in order to be accepted.”

  She smiled at his echo of her words to him. “You didn’t know that before?”

  “No. I mean, I did in my head, but not in my heart, not where it changes me and makes me new. Jill, I have so much to tell you.”

  “Hm.” Where had this man come from?

  “I couldn’t call you right away. I had a few things to process. You may not realize it, but there’s a lot to becoming a knight. Lew’s been helping.”

  Knight? Pastor Lew?

  “And the flip side is I love and forgive you. You’re free to be you and I realize that means teaching and speaking—”

  “Maybe not—”

  “We’ll figure it out later.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Do you remember me saying that I didn’t sign up for this?”

  Despite the comforting touch of his hands, she winced. “You didn’t sign up for a wife who has all the answers.”

  “I’m sorry. That wasn’t accurate. What I didn’t sign up for was losing my best friend. Jill, can we start over? become friends again?”

  “Oh yes.” She sighed. “I’d like that.”

  Jack kissed her, right there at Shirley’s handprints, surrounded by hordes of strangers, some of whom began to clap.

  Chapter 60

  Hollywood

  Jill watched Jack drink his orange juice. The morning sun shone in his mussed hair, highlighting the gray strands. He wore a white terry-cloth robe with the hotel’s logo embroidered on its front.

  He set his goblet on the table and rested an elbow on the balcony railing. “What?”

  “I’m a little gun-shy.” She tightened the belt on her robe.

  “Understandable. The last time we spent the night together, I left. Not to mention I moved out and said I wanted a divorce. Jill, I promise that’s not ever happening again.”

  Her smile wobbled. “It’ll take some time to trust in that.”

  “I know. I’ll give you all the time you need. I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it.”

  “Okay.”

  They had talked all yesterday afternoon and late into the night. Mostly Jack talked. She moved as if in a daze. Not only had Viv and everyone been in on his surprise, her sister had packed an overnight bag for her and announced that her arm was fine and of course she could drive the van home. She had even informed their parents of Jack’s scheme, although not early enough for Daisy to spill the beans.

  Her husband’s scheme had included dinner at the restaurant where they had eaten that first time and a reservation at a fancy hotel that had nothing to do with their history.

  Jack said, “I’m gun-shy myself. Every once in a while I wonder if I’m saying or doing things wrong.”

  “And that I’ll correct you and then talk about it on the radio.”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “We may be at this for a really long time.”

  “I think it’s called life.”

  “We don’t want to avoid that.” He reached across the table, between the empty plates and the vase with its one rose, and took her hand. “I don’t want to avoid any of it, Jill.”

  They had not yet talked about tomorrow and the day after and the day after. He had addressed other things. Lew’s insights. The support of Baxter and Sophie. His ugly apartment. His determination to be real with her. And his birthday, the best ever.

  Jack said, “I don’t want to avoid the big question either. How do we guard against growing apart again? Once we go home and jump back into regular life, there it goes. I love what I do. I’m not ready to quit, but I have been a workaholic.” He squeezed her hand. “Mostly because it was a means to spend less time at home.”

  Jill’s emotions raced through the whole gamut. Anger, chagrin, regret, pain. She reined in the torrent. “That hurts.”

  He nodded. “I promise to cut back my hours. If you’ll have me.”

  This new side of Jack was growing on her. She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

  He grinned. “Okay. Also, I don’t want us to avoid your giftedness.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s up for redefinition.”

  “Perhaps, but there is something already in motion that we can take care of.”

  “What?”

  “The book.”

  “The book.”

  He said, “The one that mentions candlelight and Vivaldi.”

  “I know which one.”

  Jack lifted her hand, kissed it, and held it under his chin. “Gretchen is working on a tour schedule that includes the husband. She even thinks women might like me to sign the recipe section.”

  “Hm.”

  “Hm.”

  Her imagination had been like a dead battery for months. Now Jack’s words were like jumper cables. Power sparked through them. The engine popped back to life. Ideas raced, eager to be put in gear.

  She said, “What about speaking?”

  “I’ll sit in the back and cheer you on.” He had never, ever sat in on one of her sessions.

  “I could call on you.”

  “O-okay.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Knights are always welcome.” She grinned. “Especially if they’re wearing robes like that one. I’m sure it would boost sales too.”

  The joy in Jack’s laughter filled her with new hope. Their marriage would always be a challenge, always an uphill climb with downhill tumbles. To embrace the journey as committed friends, though, offered the hope that it would also be a thing of beauty.

  Epilogue

  Eighteen months later

  Chicago

  Click. Three. Click. Two. Click. One.

  Jill flipped a switch and spoke into the microphone. “Good afternoon and welcome to Recipes for Midlife. I’m your host, Jill Galloway, and with me today is my husband, Jack. Welcome, Jack.” She smiled at him across the table and felt the tingle that always accompanied the sight of him in the studio.

  “Thank you, Jill. It’s great to be here.”

  It had taken some practice not to pause after they greeted each other. Listeners would hear dead air while the two of them grinned at each other like loonies, lost in a moment of wonder. Is this for real? They were working together. Jill got to yap to her heart’s content. Jack, the kind doctor with no sense of clock watching, was a natural chatterbox.

  She said, “As some of you know, whenever Jack shows up, we’re going to talk about our travels.”

  “Excuse me, honey, but we’re talking about pasta.”

  “We’re talking about Italy.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “Well, let’s find out. Stay tuned, folks. I’m sure the chef has a recipe or two in store for us.”

  Off-air for a minute, they slid into their loony routine.

  Eighteen months ago, Jill had predicted marital ups and downs, but she never imagined details of the adventure ahead of them.

  They had worked hard to redefine life without quashing their dedication to separate careers that were never going to intersect. Although he cut back on hours at the office, it wasn’t enough. Although she revamped her radio show so that it was less demanding, it wasn’t enough.

  In July they declared a time-out and went to visit Connor and Emma in Italy and the Trudeaus in Paris.

  And that
was where Jack and Jill discovered how to devote undivided attention to each other. They learned again the meaning of being friends. Away from home, they were forced to set aside their work. Everyday household details were nil. What else was there to do except be together?

  When Connor and Emma moved to New York in August, Jack and Jill went there.

  After that, they began to explore their own city, then the state, then neighboring ones. Eventually a new idea was hatched. Why not share stories of their travels on Jill’s new show? It fit the revamped program. She interviewed people from all walks of life on all kinds of topics. Why not her husband?

  The Jack-with-Jill segments became a favorite. Jill listened now as he described a scrumptious Alfredo sauce they had discovered in Venice. In a few minutes callers would be asking him questions and contributing their own recipes, sometimes about food, sometimes about life in general.

  She smiled.

  For her the show wasn’t about the recipes or hotels or places they had found on their trips. No. The Jack-with-Jill segments were all about how a married couple tumbled down a hill and there, at the bottom, discovered each other.

  A Note from the Author

  Dear Reader Friend,

  Desert Gift began with a desire to explore the lives of a married couple who, after twenty-five years, find themselves talking divorce. How does this happen after twenty-five years?

  Thus the Galloways were born, a poster couple for an idyllic marriage. There are no looming divisive issues between them. So what’s up? Simply put, a separateness has crept into their relationship, a thing that seems to be a common occurrence in our fast-paced culture. There is no one-size-fits-all answer.

  I let Jack and Jill loose in Chicago and Southern California, two of my all-time favorite places, to find their own way. Jill’s trek to the desert parallels her time of despair about her marriage. In the midst of the vast emptiness, wildflowers bloom and healing buds in her own heart. As always, God is there at work in our anguish.

  Thank you for traveling this side road with the Galloways. I hope the journey blessed you with laughter, tears, and a general sense of reassurance that God does indeed love you unconditionally, passionately, and wildly.