Beyond Shattered Dreams: (Sequel to Just Below the Surface), page 3
LOL still getting nauseous?
Every day.
Billie adds an eye-roll emoji to the last text.
Sorry, I answer. That’s gotta be rough.
Eh. I’ll be okay. Won’t last forever.
Billie…
Yeah?
I’m scared.
I know you are. I’m so sorry. Merrick and I pray for you both every day.
Thanks.
Love you.
Love you too, cuz.
Gotta go for now. Talk to ya later, okay?
Okay. Thanks. (Heart emoji)
Billie sends a kiss-blowing emoji and I smile. Texting with her makes me feel a little better.
I get ready for bed, praying that God will help me face another Prescott-less day.
Chapter 4
“Here, let me help you with that.”
“Thanks,” I say, as Ben moves to the other side of the table.
“You just have to ask,” he says, grinning.
“I hate pulling people from their work when I can handle it myself.”
“So, almost taking out that wall is ‘handling it,’ huh?” Ben laughs.
“Shut up.” I pretend to be offended. “This way.”
I guide the table in the direction of the waiting room. This is my next project.
We get the table safely through the door and set it off to the side.
Dusting my hands on my jeans, I thank him.
“Anytime,” he offers, smiling.
We’ve become pretty good friends, Ben and I. He’s here several days a week, and when Al and Mabel leave the store to serve a customer, he hangs out with me. I love hearing stories about his family. From what he’s told me, his mom is super feisty with a hilarious sense of humor. His dad is more reserved, but clever in his handling of her schemes. They seem like the perfect pair.
“Lunch plans?” Ben asks.
“Nah. Just planned on grabbing something that popped into my head at the last second.”
He grins. “Want to hit that new sub place with me?”
“Oh… ah,” I snap my fingers, trying to remember the name. “Boston… Balsamic… “
“Basil’s,” he laughs.
“Basil’s! That’s it. Sure, I’ll go.”
I know better than to think that he intends for this to be a date. We’ve talked about Prescott so much, Ben definitely knows how I feel about him.
“Great,” he says. “If you’re not busy around noon, we’ll leave then.”
“Sounds good,” I answer. Then I place my hands on my hips in thought. “Now, can you help me move this again? I want it on the other side of the room.”
Shaking his head, he smiles. “Yeah. Come on.”
* * *
“Okay, that was one of the best subs I’ve ever had.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin, then crumple it up and toss it to the side. I sit back like I’ve just eaten a Thanksgiving feast.
“I have to say, I agree,” Ben says, taking a sip of his pop.
“Another place to add to our list.”
“Definitely,” he agrees. “Although, I’d still take Aunt Mae’s leftovers over takeout any day.”
“For sure,” I say, my facial expression implying it’s obvious. “But if we have to suffer the loss, this is a great alternative.”
Ben glances at his phone. “We should be heading back. It’s already 12:48.”
I nod and gather up our garbage. Tossing it in the can, we head out the door.
Once in the car, Ben asks me again about Prescott.
Sighing, I turn to the window. “Still no word. I don’t know how much longer I can take not knowing.”
“I can’t imagine how you feel,” he says, “but I’m here if you’re ever feeling badly and need to talk about it.”
“Thanks, Ben. That means a lot.”
He smiles at me, then turns back to the road.
I can’t help myself and I blurt out, “What if he’s dead?”
Ben says nothing, but pulls into a convenience store parking lot, stops the car, and throws it into park. He turns and faces me.
“Anne. I’m so sorry that you’re dealing with all this. Not knowing has got to be just as painful as getting horrible news. But you can’t torment yourself day and night.”
I can’t help it; I start to cry. Everything that’s been building up just sort of makes its way out in the form of my salty tears.
“I need to know. I just need to know.”
“I know,” he says quietly. Then he reaches toward me and pulls me in for a hug.
It’s a friendly, comforting hug and I lean into him gratefully.
“I… I feel like God is ignoring my prayers.” I sniff. “I just need to hear from him, or someone who knows what’s going on.”
He gently smooths my hair. “You know that’s not true. He’s listening. But things don’t always happen the way we want them to or think they should. You know that.”
I nod and sniff again. This time Ben reaches over me and opens the glove box. He hands me a travel pack of tissue. I take it and blow my nose.
“Thanks.”
“Anne, look at me.”
I look up at him, knowing I look like a mess.
“It’s okay to be upset sometimes. It’s okay to question why things are happening the way they are. But it’s not okay to put your life on hold and let your imagination torment you.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“You need to get out. Let’s do something this weekend.”
I look at him, unsure.
He holds up his hands defensively. “As friends,” he assures me. “I’m not trying to move in on the Marine’s girl.”
This makes me laugh, and I wipe my face again. “Sure,” I say. “Let’s do something.”
“Do you like to bowl?”
“Oh gosh, I haven’t been bowling since I was a kid.”
“Me neither.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, that will be a sight.”
“I say we do it.”
“I say our scores together won’t add up to our ages.”
“But it will be fun.”
I sigh. “I think so, too. Alright. Bowling it is.”
Ben starts the car back up and heads toward the store.
“You have my number, right?”
“I think Mabel wrote it on the back board.”
He nods. “Good. Save it and call or text me anytime.”
“Thanks,” I say softly.
I’m grateful for his offer. With Billie dealing with her pregnancy, I sometimes feel like a bother. I know she’d be mad if she knew that, but I can’t help it. She’s so excited about this baby, and I feel like a Debbie downer every time we chat and she asks about Prescott.
“Actually, thanks a lot. I’ll probably take you up on that offer. You may just get sick of me.”
He laughs. “If that happens, I’ll tell Uncle Al and Aunt Mae that something came up and I quit.”
I laugh now, too. “You wouldn’t do that to your poor aunt and uncle. You’ve made such a difference at the store. Al was in over his head trying to do it all himself.”
“You think so?” Ben asks, suddenly serious. “I really like working with him. It was supposed to be temporary, but I’m thinking of staying on. Partnering with him in the business.”
I sit up a little straighter, happy to be hearing him say this. “Oh, Ben, that would be fantastic! You don’t know what that would mean to Al.”
“Actually, I do.” He scratches his head. “He’s, ah, been asking for my help for quite a while. Aunt Mae, too.”
We pull into the store lot.
“Why haven’t you come before now?”
He shrugs. “Life. Busyness. But being here now makes me wish I would’ve come a whole lot sooner.”
“You’re here now.”
“I know. I’m trying to remember that.”
I sigh. “Well, let’s get back in there so I can start sanding that table.”
When we step out of the car and close the doors behind us, Ben says, “Maybe I’ll hire you to repurpose some of my old furniture.” He shrugs. “I could use a change.”
“Sure,” I say, walking through the door he’s holding open for me.
When we enter the store, I see Mrs. Downing chatting with Mabel at the counter. Beside her stands her oldest son, Josh.
“Well, well, look who’s come to see you,” Ben murmurs, so only I can hear.
I elbow him in the stomach and he laughs.
Smiling, I wave. “Hello, Mrs. Downing. Josh.”
Mrs. Downing stands there beaming, and Josh nods his head in greeting.
“Oh, Anne! I was hoping you were in today. My Josh is looking for a vintage couch for his reading room. We were hoping you could help us.”
“Well, we haven’t gotten a couch like that through here in a while,” I say thoughtfully. “But I can let you know if something comes in soon.”
I’m clearly speaking to her, but Mrs. Downing grins up at Josh. “You hear that, honey? She’s going to call you if something comes in.”
“Uh, wait, I—”
“Oh, let me just give you his number, and you two can work out the details.”
Inwardly, I groan. I don’t have the patience for this today.
Suddenly, Ben steps forward, offering his hand. “Josh, was it? I’m Ben.”
Josh shakes his hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you, Ben.”
“Listen,” Ben continues. “Let me have your number, and you’ll be the first one we call if we get a couch we think you’d be interested in.”
I let out a breath in relief, and I see Josh visibly relax.
“That’d be great, Ben, thanks.”
Mabel hands him scrap paper and a pen and he jots down his number.
Mrs. Downing looks like she just stuck a lemon in her mouth. “Well, we usually work with Anne in these matters. She does such great work, and…” She trails off, not knowing what else to say.
Ben smiles captivatingly and takes her hand, patting it. “And you will, ma’am. Once we get what your son is looking for, Anne will work out all the refinishing and restoration details.”
The older lady melts a little under Ben’s charm and nods her head. “Alright, young man.” Then she blushes a bit. “Aren’t you just the sweetest. If I had a daughter—”
She’s cut off when Josh puts his arm around her shoulder and says, “We’d better get going, Ma. Let them get back to their work.”
I see Mabel cover her mouth to stifle a giggle.
We watch Josh usher his mother out the door, and when they’re gone, we all burst out laughing.
* * *
I put a kettle of water on the stove and grab my tea bag caddy from the cupboard, setting it on the counter. I love my English tea collection. I even have some accessories to make me feel like I’m in old Britain during high tea. I like an occasional coffee, but I’m nothing like my cousin, who’d have coffee dripping from an IV if she had the option. Tea for me is calming, comforting.
Felicia is on her way to discuss some specifics about the children I might accept for fostering and I’m a little nervous. You don’t get to choose what child you have when you give birth, so should I be picky with the children in need?
When I hear the knock, my heart skips a beat. I open the door and welcome her in.
Felicia sighs, dropping her briefcase on the floor. “What a day. I’m glad you’re my last appointment.”
I laugh. “I’m glad you’re glad. Do you want some tea?”
“Sure!”
We sit for a few moments, chatting and preparing our tea. Finally, Felicia asks if I’ve thought about our earlier conversation.
“I have,” I answer truthfully. “But…”
Felicia tips her head in question.
“Who am I to say I’ll take a certain child and not another? I mean, they all need and deserve a home, right? And what if—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Felicia holds up her hand. “Hang on. Anne, you are putting way too much pressure on yourself. You don’t have to feel guilty about choosing the child and situation you feel comfortable with.”
I take a breath. “I don’t?”
“No.” She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “We want this process to work for both you and the child you’ll foster. We want you to know and be prepared for exactly what you’re getting into.”
I nod. “Okay. What are your questions?”
She leans back and opens a folder. “Well, you’ve already stated that you’re open for any age and race. That’s great. However…” Felicia pauses and glances away for a split second. “What about special needs children?”
My brows furrow in thought. “Like severe ADHD, Down syndrome, autism… things like that?”
“Yes, and, well, other things.”
“Other things?”
“Physical restrictions, wheelchairs, blind or deaf…” She searches my face for a reaction.
“I… I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t think I’m capable…” I trail off, shaking my head.
“If we helped you, gave you the proper training, prepared you… would you be open to the possibility?”
I know the answer without thinking on it. “Yes,” I say. “If I had help, then absolutely yes.”
Felicia grins. “You’ve just made my day.”
I’m surprised. I feel like I should be intimidated somehow. Scared, even. But I just feel peace. Calmness. A sense that God has me right where He wants me.
I smile back at my foster care worker. “I think you’ve just made mine, too.”
Chapter 5
“Are you kidding me?” Another gutter ball. I turn back to Ben and shake my head. “However bad I thought I was at this—I’m so much worse.”
Ben throws his head back in laughter. “I’d disagree with you to be polite, but there’s really no point.”
I look up at the screen. It’s the sixth frame and I’ve bowled a 32.
“Well,” I say smugly, “it’s not like you’re doing so much better than me.” I point out his 56.
He laughs in agreement.
I look up to see the girl at the snack counter waving me over.
“Oh, our nachos are ready,” I say, delighted.
Ben gets up to bowl and I head to the counter.
“Nachos, extra jalapeños?”
“That’s us, thanks.” I smile, taking the tray.
I make my way back to the lane just in time to see Ben bowl a strike.
He turns around, beaming with pride.
“How did that happen?” I throw my hands up.
“I guess I just had to warm up.” He shrugs innocently.
“Sit down and eat your nachos,” I say, trying to sound stern.
The truth is, I’m having fun. Ben is a great friend and has been succeeding in taking my mind off things, for the most part.
I take my turn and manage to knock down three pins in my two tries. As I walk back to the table, Ben is dramatically slow clapping.
I stuff a cheesy chip in my mouth, trying not to laugh.
As Ben gets up to take his turn, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and see I’ve got a text.
It’s from Nicole, Prescott’s sixteen-year-old niece.
Hey. How are you?
I set my phone down and swallow hard. I’ll answer her later. I’m having a good time, and I’m not really wanting to get emotional in the bowling alley.
“Where’s my cheerleader?” Ben is walking back toward the table.
I snap out of it and force myself to smile. “I only clap for strikes and spares, which that,” I point to the screen showing his 6 for that frame, “clearly is not.”
He shakes his head, chuckling, and takes his seat across from me.
Suddenly his brow furrows and he asks if I’m alright.
I’ve always worn my emotions on my sleeve and at this moment I’m hating that fact. I know that despite my effort to remain cheerful, I’ve got a shadow on my face.
“Just a text from Prescott’s niece, Nicole.” I shrug. “Made me think of him.”
“Is everything alright?”
I want to yell Of course it’s not! “Seems to be,” I say instead. “She’s just asking how I am.” I shove my phone back into my pocket. “I’ll text her later.”
Ben nods, but eyes me cautiously. “You’re alright to finish our game?”
“Of course,” I say. “Life goes on, right?”
With that, I get up and head to the lane to take my turn.
* * *
I lay my phone on the arm of my chair and think about the conversation I just had with Nicole. She misses me. I miss her, too. She wants to get together. I’m hesitant. I know we’ll spend most of our time together talking about Prescott. I just don’t know if I can take it without becoming a blubbering mess.
I finally agreed to visit her at her house after church tomorrow. I haven’t been there without Prescott, so I’m hoping it won’t be weird. But I’m actually excited to see Penny and Will—Prescott’s sister and her husband—so that will help my nerves.
My phone chimes, interrupting my thoughts. Glancing at the screen, I see that Billie wants to video chat. I answer immediately.
“Billie!”
My cousin beams through the screen. “Anne! I’m so glad you answered. We have some news.”
Merrick nods in the background.
“Oh. My. Word. You found out what you’re having?” I sit on the edge of my chair, ready to jump up when I hear the gender.
Billie nods excitedly, and from the look of satisfaction on Merrick’s face, I think I know what’s coming.
“It’s a girl!”
“Wait, what?” I don’t bother to hide my surprise. “A girl?”
Billie laughs. “I definitely thought I’d get a squeal out of you. Don’t tell me you were hoping it was a boy.”
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “I just must’ve misread Merrick’s face. He almost looked happy,” I tease. “I thought he wanted a boy.”
Merrick moves around the couch to sit next to his wife and his deep voice comes through the phone. “I couldn’t be happier.” He leans over and kisses Billie’s temple. “With a wife like mine, she’ll be the most stunning baby girl the world has ever seen.”
I squeal.
Billie grins.
