by Lainey Reese
Did she?
“How are you this morning?” Abram had gotten all the way up the steps and directly in front of her without her noticing. She wasn’t startled though; she only gazed up at him and tried to offer the reassurance that everyone around her sought these days. It was easier to give them what they wanted. They went away faster if she did. So she always pretended to nibble from whatever plate was put in front of her, no matter how foul she found food these days. She also showered when they asked her to, got out of bed when they woke her, and went back to her bed every time someone suggested it. Nothing mattered. Not anymore.
“Fine.” Andie’s voice was low and hoarse from disuse. Abram frowned with concern. “Really. You should go to work. Or home. You can take the day off if you want. You’re salary, and this place won’t fall apart in one afternoon. Take a day.” She tried to work strength into her tone, but even she could hear the tinge of desperation seeping through. She almost cursed when he crouched in front of her instead of leaving.
“You’re really not.” Abram’s face was devoid of emotion. Secretly, she always thought he reminded her of Spock from Star Trek. He was so unemotional and reserved. And super smart too. Uncle Wally had loved him and told her often of the changes he let him make on the spread.
“No,” she admitted, “I’m not. Of course not. But I’m not bleeding, and I don’t need an ambulance, so… I’m fine.”
His cool eyes scanned her face intently, and Andie felt like he was trying to memorize her or something. “I’d like to share something with you. A bible story, if you don’t mind.” She tried not to roll her eyes, but she saw his lips quirk at the expression she must’ve let slip. “I’m not telling you to preach at you. It’s just a story that is very similar to yours.” She gave a reluctant nod.
“You know of David and Goliath from the Bible? Aw, yeah, everyone knows how, as a young, small boy, he killed a giant with a sling shot. Have you heard of Bathsheba? She was his great love. She was the beautiful wife of one of his most loyal soldiers. A great beauty and very smart, she knew the king often took in the night air on top of his roof to overlook his kingdom. So, one evening, Bathsheba orders her maidservant to prepare her bath atop her own roof, and there she stood, in the glow of the moonlight, naked while her maidservant bathed her, and her king watched from afar.”
As a storyteller, he had a hypnotic flare. Andie was hooked.
“So, King David summoned Bathsheba to his chambers, and they began an affair. When she became pregnant, the king ordered her husband sent to the front lines to die so he could take Bathsheba as his own wife.”
“Wow. David was an asshole. Who knew?” She was appalled. How was this guy a Bible hero?
“Precisely.” Abram nodded sagely. “Well, soon after, the infant’s life was in jeopardy.” Ice crackled as it sheeted over her insides like nuclear winter. “David fasted and prayed. He threw himself prostrate before the Lord and begged for the life of his child. But God took the infant from them regardless because of their sinful ways. But, you see—”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Andie had never felt such rage. Such a desire to punch someone as she did right now. How dare he say something so unbelievably callous and cruel? “Did you honestly just tell me my baby is dead, because I sinned or something? That this is God’s punishment?”
“No!” The look of shock on his face was the only thing keeping her from launching a full-body assault. “Oh, Andie. No. No. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please believe that was never my intention. I wanted only to share with you, so you could see that even kings and queens aren’t spared this type of loss. And also, after that tragedy, they went on to have more children. King Solomon among them. And he wrote the Song of Psalms! I thought to comfort you with this. Not cause you more harm and distress.” Those cool eyes stayed on her face, assessing her, taking in her emotions, and she tried to rein in her reaction. Obviously, she must be hyperemotional and acting out of proportion, because he remained as calm as an untouched lake. “Truly, the object of the story is that blessings come after the storms. After suffering comes new life. New joy.” His hand patted lightly at hers, and he pushed to his feet. “I am sorry to have upset you so. I honestly meant to bring you comfort.”
“I still don’t understand why David is considered a hero. He was a murdering asshole.” Anger and confusion still simmered under the surface. Despite his assurances to the contrary, she felt condemned by the story. It only added more layers to the mountain of guilt and self-loathing she already carried inside her.
“Yes, he was that.” Abram smiled with gentle wisdom. “David is a symbol of hope for all who sin. No matter how great our fall, how deep our betrayal, with true repentance, there is forgiveness and grace.” He gave her a slight nod and another of his cool smiles. With a tip of his head and a quiet farewell, he turned and headed for the barn.
Andie watched him leave and contemplated his story along with his idea of the meaning behind it for a few more minutes. Nope, she shook her head, just no. No way was she going to add this to her already blistering mental burden. If Abram thought she lost her child because she sinned, well that was on him and his belief system. She already struggled with enough guilt over this tragedy; last thing she needed was to try to figure out which commandment she broke bad enough that God demanded the life of her child as payment for it.
“Nope. No way.” Sadly, even as she told herself it was bullshit, fresh tears of guilt spilled down her cheeks, and she felt the poisonous dart he launched find its mark.
Two hours later—or was it two days?—Andie was in the same spot when Sharon and Christy drove up the long dirt path and parked under the shade of the giant walnut tree. The two women emerged looking like runway models with their stylish clothes and perfectly coifed hair. They didn’t come empty-handed either, Andie noted. Christy carried a ridiculously large wicker picnic basket—obviously here to spend another lunch break with Logan—and Sharon held another casserole dish.
“Afternoon, Andie.” Christy’s voice was gentle, almost as if she feared speaking in a normal tone was too much for Andie to bare. “How are you today?”
“Oh, honey,” Sharon chided gently, “it’s far too soon to be asking that question.” Andie’s eyes snapped to meet hers. “You can’t be expecting an honest answer to that for another six months at least.” She sat her dish down on the table in front of Andie, and after looking intently into Andie’s face for a few weighted moments, she turned to Christy with a decisive click of her fancy shoes. “You go on ahead to the barn now and find your boy. I’m going to stay here with Andie today instead.”
“Oh are you sure?” Christy looked from Sharon to her and back again, clearly reluctant.
“I’m sure.” Sharon nodded. “I’m all right. Plus, she’s ready for the next part.”
“Well, okay then, honey.” Christy adjusted her basket to one hand, used the other to rub affectionately on Sharon’s arm, and then leaned forward to kiss her lightly on her plum-colored lips, taking a bit of the gloss from the plump beautiful smile as she did. The two women had become a semi-regular fixture around here lately. Jax and Christy had taken themselves off for a chat the first time they had come face-to-face here, and Andie roused herself enough to worry while they’d been gone. She remembered all too well the pain Christy inflicted on him when they’d been young, and concern for him had briefly risen above her own pain. They’d come back less than an hour later holding hands and wearing tearful smiles though, and Andie had felt relieved. Glad to see healing come for them both. Even Luke had forgiven her. Kiki teased that he’d been able to forgive and forget, because his ego had been healed by the fact that Christy was gay. The memory of that exchange brought a small smile to Andie’s lips.
“You be careful and come find us if you need me, okay?” Christy was saying.
“We’ll be just fine,” Sharon answered. “Tell Logan I said hi, and don’t forget to invite him over for Sunday.” With another sweet kiss and prom
ises not to take too long, Christy was gone in a cloud of floral perfume and linen skirts.
When Sharon turned back to look at Andie, she had her hands on her slender hips and a determined look on her beautiful face. It made Andie itchy. Her façade was no match for the kind of scrutiny Sharon was directing at her.
“We should talk;” she began without preamble or fanfare, “and you look like you’re ready to hear what I got to say.”
“I’m really not.” Andie knew it was rude. She didn’t care. She’d already taken a blow from Abe’s little pep talk; she would probably jump off the roof if she had to endure another.
Sharon’s lips pursed and her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re low-key pissed right now. That’s good. Really good. Getting angry helps. You’ve been drifting along like a zombie long enough; it’s good to see you start fighting your way back.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think maybe you should go catch up with Christy. Find Logan, eat lunch, and then leave.”
“Ouch.” Sharon looked as stung by her deliberate rudeness as if she’d been hit by a powder puff. “Good try, but nah. I’ma just stay here with you for a spell.” Andie’s frown deepened.
“Look, lady. I don’t even know you. This is not a good time or place for me, so if you don’t mind—”
“I lost my daughter too.”
That stopped Andie cold. Her mouth snapped closed with such force and speed it made a plopping sound.
“My baby girl died during birth.” Andie saw tears glint in the dark-amber eyes that held hers unflinchingly. “She was breach and got tangled in the umbilical cord. The doctors tried, but they couldn’t save her. Everything was perfect up until then. She even came on her scheduled due date.” Lightning struck at the walls of distance Andie had built between her and the world.
She didn’t know she stopped breathing until Sharon reminded her to. “That was six years ago. Today.” Then, grief Andie had become all too intimate with was reflected in the beautiful face in front of her. Andie’s breath started to back up in her throat, and she felt one of her big crying jags coming on. Then she felt something ridiculously close to flight-or-fight. She honestly wasn’t sure which one she’d choose. Before she could choose either, Sharon wrapped her arms around her own waist and wept.
No escape. No refuge, Andie thought as she watched the other woman mourn. Panic, a desperate urge to flee the emotions boiling up inside her, had Andie straining to get free. But something she didn’t intend happened instead. Andie wrapped her arms around Sharon and joined her in grief. Fury, sorrow, regret, and desperate longing flowed out of her in gut-wrenching sobs. As Sharon clung to her as well, Andie found a profound solace in their tears. Here was someone else who knew her suffering. Knew it even more intimately than Luke did. There was something unspeakably comforting in that, and for this one moment, she didn’t feel so alone.
“Logan? What time are we leaving ton—?” Abram stopped midsentence when he rounded the corner and saw Christy sitting in the barn on a gingham blanket.
“Well hi, Abe. It’s so nice to see you again. Would you like to join us for lunch? I was a bit early, so I’ve just been reading to pass the time. Are you okay, honey?” Christy wrinkled her brow at the way Abram stepped back when he saw her and didn’t let it hurt her feelings the way he just stood there and stared. The Amish are so aloof, she mused.
“Okay, well, you’re welcome to join us if that’s what you decide on. I am not sure how much longer Logan is going to be. Do you know when he’s due back?” She held her hands up at her sides.
“Hey, Mom.” Logan—her miracle—came loping in like the exact replica of the dashing young farmboy she’d fallen in love with so many years ago, and her heart fell at his feet. Sharon said she could see her features all over him, but Christy couldn’t. He was Luke through and through.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Since all she wanted to do was pet and fawn over him like he was a newborn, Christy busied her hands by digging into the picnic basket. “I brought Reubens today. You ever have a good Reuben before?” Parchment paper crackled in her hands as she hefted out the weighty sandwich and turned to face him.
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” He came closer to peer down into the depths of the basket, eager to see what else she brought. “Smells awesome though.” He reached for the sandwich she held out and took it with a grateful smile that guaranteed she’d be cooking for him again—soon. “Hey, Abe? You eat yet? You know what? Even if you did, come here anyway. I’ll split this with you. Smells amazing, Mom.”
Tears. Hearing her boy call her Mom was always going to bring tears. But it was an added layer of joy that he was also enamored with her cooking.
Christy had always enjoyed cooking; it gave her a sense of accomplishment to feed people. Like she’d done something worthwhile whenever she placed a plate of food in front of someone. But that feeling took on a whole new significance when she fed her son. Watching him eat food she lovingly prepared just for him was almost healing. It felt right. She knew she’d never really be able to make up for lost time, but this, this felt as close to that as she could imagine. If nothing else, their meals together were helping bridge the gap between them. With each lunch or dinner they shared, they became just a little bit closer. Their talks a little less stilted, and their eyes less hesitant to look away when one caught the other staring.
“Thank you for the offer.” Abram retreated to the shadows, and Christy couldn’t make out his expression, but she got the impression he wanted as far away from her as possible. “But I’ll just head back to work.” Without bothering to return the goodbyes tossed his way, Abram melted into the shadows and disappeared out of sight.
“I don’t think your friend likes me very much,” Christy said, a determined frown pursing her lips as she stared after the direction he had taken and tried to envision a way to win him over.
“Oh, I’m sure he likes you just fine.” Logan plopped down like a gangly puppy and waved one hand in dismissal before unwrapping his sandwich. “Wow, this looks awesome! Anyway, he just didn’t come in, because you’re an unwed woman who’s not family or something. I dunno; his family’s weird. There’re so many rules he’s gotta live by it’s hard to keep up with them all. Don’t worry about it, okay?” He stared into her face with such open sincerity that Christy felt tears of joy sting again. How sweet that he was concerned for her feelings.
“Okay,” she promised. “I won’t worry about it.” Her reward was a smile as big as the sky, and then he took a huge bite of the mammoth sandwich in his hands.
“Ohmygod.” Cheeks puffed out like a hamster’s, Logan rolled his eyes in delight and took another bite before he’d even swallowed the first.
“Good Lord, child.” Delighted, she laughed and gave his arm a nudge. “Chew and swallow. Chew and swallow. You’re going to choke to death eating like that. You’re not a gator who can just chomp and gulp.”
“Sorry,” Logan told her around another mouthful of corned beef and sauerkraut. “It’s just so good. What else is in there?” He looked at what was left of his sandwich and then hopefully at the basket. “Is there another one of these?”
“Of course.” With a happy sigh, Christy fished out his second sandwich and set it in front of him while he happily devoured what was left of his first. “I brought chips and some of this sour cream and chive dip I made. Plus, my momma’s famous potato salad, some bran muffins I made, and—oh yeah—I sliced up some fresh veggies for the dip too. Then for dessert, I made you a cherry pie!” She placed each item onto the blanket as she pilfered it from the basket, but she held the pie aloft for his inspection. The look of abject longing made every second of the hours she spent in the kitchen this morning worth it.
“This is really good. Great even.” An anxious look came over his face. “All of it is always great. But you don’t have to do all this every time. It’s okay, you know. I’d still wanna see you, even if you didn’t bring food or cook for me.”
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sp; It was hard to speak past the lump in her throat; it felt sure to turn into a big, fat crying jag. “Thank you for saying that, Logan. God, it means the world to me.” Setting the pie down before her fumbling hands could drop it, Christy then reached out and brushed lightly at the silky black hair that tumbled over his brow. “Maybe, in about a hundred years, I’ll stop trying to feed away all our years apart. For now though, this is how I say I love you. Cooking is how I always try to fix whatever is broken. I guess it’s how everyone does to some degree, right? When someone suffers a loss, don’t we all bring food? Or when they’re hurt? Just had surgery? I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me and I’m nuts. All I know is that nothing makes me happier than feeding the people I love.” He returned the smile she sent him, and if love were power, she was sure she’d be able to run all of New York City for a week on what his acceptance made her feel. “So come on and eat up, because there’s lots more where this came from.”
“Okay, my turn.” Kiki walked onto the porch, determined to pick up where Sharon left off and bring her BFF back from the brink. She watched the two women bond over their common loss, and now that things had eased between them, Kiki decided Andie was ready for what came next. “Let’s walk and talk. You been sitting in this same spot for the last two months, and it’s time you start moving, my love.” Without waiting for her answer, Kiki bent over and scooped her arm through one of Andie’s and tugged her to her feet.
“I don’t want to.” Andie obviously didn’t care if she sounded like a petulant child. She probably felt like a petulant child right now.
“Neither do I,” Sharon called after them as they all marched down the stairs determinedly. “I hate nature. Give me a stroll down a well-laid sidewalk lit by neon and the warm glow of a Neiman Marcus showroom window any day. Dirt, bugs, and snakes are so not my thing. I’m going to go find Christy and Logan and see if they saved me any lunch.” She smiled gently at Andie, gave her a fierce hug, and told her; “You call me whenever. I’m here for you. There’s always going to be setbacks and bad days, and I’ll be here if ever you need me. Okay?” A solid kiss on her cheek, another full-body hug, a sweet smile for Kiki, and then she turned and headed for the barn.
