How Sweet It Is

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  With a suitcase in each hand, he returned to the condo, making his way straight to the bedroom. Working together, the two of them emptied the suitcases, hanging some clothes in the closet and putting other clothes in drawers, arranging toiletries in the bathroom, setting their Bibles and a few other books on the nightstands. Then, after Helen made certain her hair was in order, they went in search of something to eat.

  To Andrew’s surprise, his favorite restaurant was still in operation, forty years later. He supposed the exterior had received new coats of paint over the years, and he was fairly certain the signage was different. But the view of the Pacific with its rising tide crashing against the craggy shore was the same, as were all of the wonderful seafood choices on the menu.

  “We should have come back long before this,” he said after the waitress took their order.

  “When would we have done it? Our lives have been so full.”

  He looked at Helen across the table. “I should have made sure you had more trips to beautiful places. I’m sorry I didn’t do that for you.”

  “Andrew Michael Henning, you stop that right now. I’ve lived exactly the life I wanted.”

  Have you? He reached across the table to take hold of her hand. She’d nearly left him once, oh, so many years ago, but they’d weathered that storm, coming out stronger and more in love on the other side. Still, they’d spent their marriage in a small house, raising five kids in it, getting up at the crack of dawn to tend the livestock and raise the crops and weed the vegetable garden and mend the clothes and on and on. They’d never starved or gone without the basic necessities, but they’d never had a lot of excess either. God had faithfully provided what they’d needed. But could he have given his wife more with a little extra effort?

  “Exactly the life I wanted.” She squeezed his hand.

  He squeezed back. “So have I,” he managed through a tightening throat. “So have I.”

  Chapter 22

  Pushing hair back from her face, Holly sat on the side of the bed. She felt as tired now as she had when she’d retired for the night. Sleep hadn’t come until the wee hours, and even that had been restless. Her mind had churned with thoughts of Jed, with the feelings she was afraid to feel but felt all the same.

  She hadn’t seen him yesterday. She didn’t know if that was because she’d been so busy at the restaurant and then with her sister or if it was because he’d avoided her for some reason. Maybe, after learning about Willow and AJ, he was ready to leave Boise and didn’t know how to tell her. But that didn’t sound like him. He wasn’t a fearful sort. She was the fearful one. Not him.

  A glance at the clock told her she was running late. She hurried through her morning routine and was feeding Pumpkin when her phone rang. The cat purred contentedly as Holly set the bowl on the floor, then looked at the phone screen. The call was from the Lighthouse.

  “Holly, it’s Madalyn. There’s been an accident.”

  “An accident.”

  “It’s Willow. She got scalded in the kitchen. Not even sure how she did it. They’ve taken her to the hospital. She asked me to call you. She wants you to go there if you could, please.”

  “Of course I’ll go. Which hospital?”

  Madalyn told her, then said, “Hurry. I think she’s hurt bad.”

  “I’m on my way. Five minutes at most.”

  Her heart pounding, she raced to the bedroom and slipped on some shoes. On her way back to the kitchen, she grabbed her phone, purse, and car keys from the small table in the living room. Then she was out the back door. In her rush, she nearly collided with Jed.

  “Whoa!” He steadied her with hands on her upper arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Willow. She’s hurt. I’ve got to get to the hospital.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  “I’ll take you,” he interrupted firmly.

  Relief flowed through her. “Thanks.”

  He guided her to his rental car, and she got into the passenger seat.

  “Which hospital?” he asked as he started the engine.

  “St. Al’s.”

  He didn’t ask for directions, but she supposed he’d driven around Boise enough in recent weeks to know the way. The large hospital complex was easily seen when driving on the connector into the heart of downtown. She was thankful she didn’t need to speak, because her thoughts were racing. Wondering how the accident happened. Wondering how serious the young mother’s injuries were.

  At the hospital Jed found a parking space not far from the entrance to the emergency room. He took her arm as soon as she was out of the car. It was a gentle but steadying touch, and she felt calmer because of it as they passed through the electronic doors.

  “I’m here to see Willow Flynn,” she told the young man behind the counter. “They brought her in a short while ago. I think by ambulance.”

  He looked at the computer screen and moved the mouse with his right hand. After a few moments he said, “She’s here. Have a seat, and as soon as she’s allowed to have visitors, we’ll let you know.”

  Holly nodded, hating the wait, hating not being able to ask questions and get some answers. She moved to the chairs lined up with their backs to the windows.

  “Could be a while,” Jed said, stating the obvious.

  “I know.”

  “Care to tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t really know. She got scalded. A kitchen accident, Madalyn said. I assume Willow was boiling water for breakfast.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve seen my share of scald burns. They’re not uncommon in the food services industry. Water has to be kept at a high temperature to kill bacteria and properly clean the cookware. If you’re not careful . . .” She let her words drift into silence.

  “Maybe it’s not too bad.” He looked toward the doors that separated them from the ER’s treatment rooms. “Hopefully you’ll be able to see her soon.”

  Holly wanted to believe it wasn’t bad. But if it wasn’t, they probably could have treated Willow at the shelter or at an urgent-care facility, not taken her to the hospital. Then again, maybe they were only being extra careful.

  Please, God, let that be the reason.

  * * *

  When Jed left his apartment half an hour earlier, he’d wanted to see Holly. He’d wanted to tell her how he felt about her, how much she’d come to mean to him in these past weeks. He’d wanted to see if they could figure out a way to keep seeing each other, even after he returned to Tacoma. It wouldn’t be easy. He knew that. He had obligations. She had obligations. But some people managed long-distance relationships.

  But he couldn’t tell her any of that while sitting beside her in an ER waiting room. He would have to be patient.

  “Jed.” She looked at him, face tight with worry. “Shouldn’t you call Chris and let him know what’s happened to her?”

  For a moment he couldn’t answer. He wasn’t sure. Chris knew Willow had planned to tell Jed about AJ, so that wouldn’t come as a surprise. Then again, the two of them weren’t married. Willow had said Chris wanted to be part of his son’s life. She hadn’t said Chris wanted to be part of hers. Would Willow even want him to know?

  “I think you should,” Holly added, softly but firmly.

  “Okay.” He took out his phone and pressed his brother’s name. The call went straight to voice mail. “Chris, it’s Jed. I need you to call me when you get this message. It’s important.” He hung up, his gaze going to Holly. “He didn’t answer. Must have turned off his phone while he’s at work.”

  “You didn’t tell him it was about Willow.”

  “I didn’t think I should in a voice mail.”

  Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “I’ll say more in a text.”

  He opened his message app and began to type: Willow hurt in accident. At hospital now with her friend Holly. Call me ASAP. A whooshing sound sent the message on its way.

  “Miss Stanford?”

&n
bsp; They both looked toward a woman wearing hospital scrubs who stood in the doorway to the ER.

  “Are you Holly Stanford?”

  “Yes.” She stood.

  “Miss Flynn has asked to see you.”

  Holly looked at Jed.

  “Go on,” he said. “I’ll be right here. Waiting.”

  Sunday, November 16, 1969

  From the deck of the condo, Andrew and Helen watched the storm roll in. Dark, angry clouds roiled and tumbled toward them, and below the deck, the ocean churned and frothed. Whitecaps rode the tops of high waves, crashing against the shore as loud as thunder.

  “When the ocean gets high in a storm, don’t stand outside watching it,” a local had warned Andrew the previous day. “At least one poor fool gets washed out to sea most years somewhere along this coast because he wants to get too close to the action. Some flimsy porch rail isn’t going to save a body.”

  Remembering the advice, Andrew said, “We’d better go in. The rain is going to start any moment.”

  Once they were inside, they settled onto chairs that faced the window. The glass rattled as the wind continued to rise. The rain came, driven before the storm. Day seemed to turn to night, and Helen rose from her chair long enough to turn on the lights. The roar of the ocean intensified.

  When Helen returned, she sat on the arm of Andrew’s chair, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It didn’t storm like this when we were here before.”

  “No.”

  “I kind of like it. Sunny was nice, but this is exciting.”

  “I’m surprised you remember what the weather was like all those years ago. We hardly left the bedroom, so how can we be sure?”

  She feigned a shocked expression. “Mr. Henning. The way you talk.”

  Laughing, he pulled her off the arm of the chair and onto his lap. Color rose in her cheeks, reminding him of the bride she’d been. Sobering, he kissed her, hoping it transmitted all the love he felt in his heart.

  A loud crack of thunder startled them apart. Their gazes went to the window, where water ran in sheets down the glass, blurring the foaming sea.

  “Oh my,” Helen breathed.

  They rose in unison and stepped closer to the window as jagged lightning split the clouds. Andrew counted aloud to see how long it took the thunder to reach them. Even expecting it, the sound made Helen jump. She drew closer to Andrew, seeking protection. Glad to oblige, he placed an arm around her shoulders.

  Lord, he prayed silently, it seems our lives are in the midst of a similar storm. It could end soon. It could go on for a long time. I suspect we shall both grow weary at some point. Perhaps we’ll give in to fear. Remind us, Jesus, that You’re in the boat with us, even when it’s tossed to and fro. We need not be afraid. Joy doesn’t come from perfect circumstances. It comes from knowing You. Put a new song in our hearts. A song of praise to You. Restore to us the joy of knowing You, walking with You, talking with You, loving You.

  As if she’d heard his prayer, Helen began to sing “Spirit in the Sky.”

  The breath caught in Andrew’s chest. It was a song of praise. It was also a song about dying. Though he wanted to worship with her, emotions took his throat captive.

  After a few refrains, Helen fell silent, her head now resting on Andrew’s shoulder, and they watched the storm roll on.

  Chapter 23

  Jed had a long wait. He checked and answered emails on his phone. He got up and paced the waiting area, from one end to the other. He surfed the internet, looking for information on scald burns, ways to prevent them and ways to treat them. He shot up a few bullet prayers, brief calls for help and for mercy. Glancing at the large clock on the wall again and again, he wondered why time in a hospital waiting area moved so much slower than it did elsewhere.

  At long last the doors opened and Holly appeared. She looked pale and wan. He went straight to her, putting an arm around her back.

  Voice shaky, she said, “She’ll be all right with time, but she’s in a lot of pain.”

  He guided her to a couple of chairs and they sat.

  “I wasn’t allowed to be with her for long. Fear of infection from the burns, I think. One of the doctors talked to me afterward. I . . . I don’t think I understood very much. I couldn’t concentrate, I was so upset. She has some full and some . . . partial-thickness burns. That’s what he called them. Her hands and arms were scalded and so was a small area on her torso.” She touched her stomach. “Here, I think.”

  “Poor Willow. I’m sorry.”

  She looked at him. “She’s scared, Jed. She’s scared about AJ.”

  “AJ?”

  “He was in the kitchen with her. He could have been burned too. And now she won’t be able to take care of him until she’s healed. That will be a few weeks, at least.” Her gaze seemed to intensify. “There are complications. Her care after she’s out of the hospital. The fact that she’s living in a shelter, technically homeless and unemployed. She’s afraid AJ will be taken by child services, that he’ll be put into foster care.”

  “But they wouldn’t—”

  “You’re his uncle. She needs you to take him right now.”

  “Me?” He drew back, stunned.

  “If a family member takes him, then the state shouldn’t need to get involved.”

  “What about Chris? He’s his father.”

  “Chris isn’t here. He’s on some kind of trip for his job, and she hasn’t heard from him in a couple of days. It sounds like they had a fight.”

  “I can’t take AJ. I don’t know anything about taking care of a kid.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re family. You’ll figure it out.” Holly’s voice had taken on a firm edge. She softened it as she added, “And I’ll be around to help.”

  He shook his head. It was crazy, what she was asking.

  “Willow knows you, Jed. She needs someone she can trust, and apparently that’s you.”

  “She trusts you more. Maybe you should take AJ and let me be the one who helps you.”

  “She’s terrified the state will take her son away from her. She needs family. She has none of her own, so it has to be AJ’s family. With Chris gone, that’s you. Her experiences in foster care weren’t good. You can’t let the same thing happen to your nephew. You can’t.”

  “He’s safe at the shelter for the moment.”

  “If she’s not there, he won’t be able to stay for long. The shelter isn’t a day-care facility. The state will step in. And even when Willow can go back to the shelter, she won’t be able to take care of him right away. Not with those burns. Not for a while.”

  Even when it doesn’t make sense, do what He asks you to do. Only last night, Jed had prayed that his default would be to always say yes to God, even if it didn’t make sense. Now look at him. He was finding every excuse to refuse. Sorry, God. He drew a breath to steady himself. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it. But how will anyone know I’m his uncle?”

  “She had the nurse write this note.” Holly lifted her right hand, a folded piece of paper pressed between her palm and thumb. “And she told me where to find AJ’s birth certificate. Chris had it updated to name him as AJ’s father, and it won’t be hard to prove your relationship to Chris.”

  This wasn’t how he’d envisioned this day when he left his apartment, wanting to see and talk to Holly. He’d thought he might kiss her, might tell her how much she meant to him, might learn if she felt the same way about him, perhaps begin learning how they might make a relationship work. Suddenly, instead of laying claim to a girlfriend, he’d landed a nephew. A two-year-old nephew in need of a temporary guardian.

  * * *

  Holly glanced over at Jed as he drove them to the children’s store. Tension was etched on his face. He’d agreed to Willow’s request to take care of AJ, but it was obvious he wasn’t looking forward to the experience. She suspected he hadn’t spent much time around kids. Especially not children as young as AJ. How could he, a single guy working seventy- and eighty-hour weeks?


  After parking the car in the lot, Jed sat still, staring out the window, his expression grim. “Chris has screwed up a lot, but I never thought he’d ignore a text about Willow getting hurt. He has to know she’s worried about AJ even if he doesn’t care about her.” He glanced over at Holly. “He said he wants to be in his kid’s life, but then he goes AWOL when he’s needed. What kind of man does that?”

  “You don’t know why he hasn’t called you back. Maybe there’s a good reason.”

  “And maybe I’ll win the lottery without buying a ticket.” He opened his car door, then looked at her again. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “If I don’t hear from Chris in a few hours, I’ll have to call my parents. They’ll need to know about AJ if Chris doesn’t step up.” He took a breath. “I’m a lot better at running a business than I am with this kind of thing. I’m mad, and I’m fed up.”

  This was a side of Jed she hadn’t seen before. Not that he’d done anything wrong. He had a right to be angry with his brother, given the situation. Still, it made her wonder what else she might not know about him. How many hidden facets might there be to this man? Might his charming smile and easy laughter hide other traits less appealing? The questions frightened her. She didn’t want to be wrong about his true character. But what if she was? She’d been fooled before.

  “Let’s get this shopping over with,” he said and got out of the car.

  She followed suit, her troubled thoughts going with her.

  Half an hour later, they loaded a new car seat and portable bed into his car, then drove to the shelter. Jed waited in the common room while Holly answered questions from the women who were not working or in classes at that time on a weekday. All were anxious to know if Willow would be all right. Afterward, the director took Holly to Willow’s room, where she found the birth certificate and showed it to the director, then collected everything she thought AJ might need while he was with his uncle.