Love Inspired April 2021--Box Set 1 of 2, page 32
He cooled a spoonful of gravy, tasted it and made a quick pronouncement. “Short on pepper. Can you hand me that pepper grinder?” Shane reached across the island as she sprinkled fresh chopped chives on half of the dumplings.
“Here you go.” She handed the grinder over.
His hand touched hers.
Their eyes met, and when he grazed her palm with his fingers—then winked—she wasn’t sure if she should flirt back or smack him. “Stop it,” she ordered softly, but she didn’t mean it, and he seemed to know that right off.
“It’s going to be a long few months, Jess.”
She couldn’t fault his reasoning, but she could counter it with practicality. “Not if I’m seeing patients all day and you’re fixing buildings.”
“The majority of the buildings are in the vicinity of that clinic,” he noted. “I’m pretty sure God plunked me almost next door so’s you’d notice me. And it worked.”
“I blame the fire,” she replied, but then amended her stance. “Although it is weird to have the timing work out like this.” She noted her mother with a glance before bringing her attention back to Shane. “Being passed over for the job I’d worked so hard to get and end up as a free agent when my mother needs me most? It’s kind of unbelievable, isn’t it? I can oversee Mom’s practice as needed. This accident of timing has given me the chance to be strong for her, and I’m going to make the most of it.”
“It’s no accident of timing,” he told her in a confident tone. “God’s timing.”
“Why are good coincidences called God’s timing and bad ones are called fate?” she asked, but she didn’t give him time to answer because the food was ready. “Hey, guys,” she called. “Supper.”
Sammy didn’t need to be told twice. He raced up the stairs and slid into a chair with all the gusto of a typical eight-year-old boy. “My friend Moira calls it dinner.” He made a comic face of disbelief. “I told her it’s ‘supper,’ but she said when her dad takes her mom out on a date, they go to dinner, so that’s that. I told her that’s just silly.”
“And the debate rages on,” murmured Mary as she crossed the room. She swept the filled table a look of pure appreciation. “This looks marvelous, Jess and Shane. Thank you so much for finishing it up. And, Jess, you had a busy day at the office, didn’t you?”
“Let me just say there wasn’t a minute to get bored,” Jess told her. “Jenny’s a great organizer, she keeps things moving, but a two-person practice will need another hand on deck. Have you thought of tempting a blood lab to set up an office here in town? That would save folks a thirty-minute ride.”
“We’d probably need more practitioners on hand to make it worth their while, but it’s a great thought,” Mary agreed. “It puts patients first. This looks marvelous, Jess.” She noted the chicken and dumplings with a look of appreciation. “Thanks for stepping in so I could catch up on files.”
“It smells like that old-fashioned diner we go to, Pops.” Jolie came forward. She hadn’t set the book down. She’d brought it to the table and held it up for Shane to see. “From Jess. A whole collection she had. It’s a really good mystery.”
“And you love mysteries.”
“I do,” she admitted. “Can we come here tomorrow, too?” she asked as she sat. “If Jed’s not better? Doc Mary has cool slides to examine in her office. Bug legs and antennae and blood spots.”
“While that sounds like a real good time—” his expression suggested otherwise “—it’s up to Mary and Jess,” he told her. “Devlyn texted that she’d need one more day, but I don’t want to impose. I can duck out of work—”
“One of us can wrap up early,” Mary assured him. “It will feel good to be back in the office, seeing patients, so maybe we can cut Jess loose to meet the kids here. And, honestly, if Devlyn ever wants to bring the kids here to check things out, she’s welcome. There can’t be a lot to do at your rental, and Jed’s toys, well...” She said no more but they all knew what had happened to Jed’s toys. “The woods are perfect for science lessons in the spring. Unless you wake up a very hungry, ornery bear,” she teased with a look at Sam.
“But they’re sleeping now. Right?” His expression begged assurance. Just in case.
“For the moment,” she told him, laughing.
It felt good to hear her mother laugh.
It was a family meal.
The last time Jess had enjoyed a family meal at a big table was when her friend Ashley had invited her to their cramped Brooklyn apartment to tell her she and her family were moving to the heartland.
Their choice surprised her. They had great jobs in Lower Manhattan, lived in a classic neighborhood in Park Slope, and had all the amenities a thriving city could offer.
But their move had helped spur Jess’s awareness and now here she was, surrounded by people, a home-cooked dinner—supper, she corrected herself with an inner smile. Embraced by the mountains she used to call home. She could breathe here. She could think. It surprised her that she’d barely noticed the frantic pace she’d kept up in the city until she got here and had time to talk with patients. Watch them and their reactions. Sense their needs.
Practicing medicine was different here.
But so was she. Jess was beginning to think that might be a good thing.
Sammy threw his arms around Jess and gave her a big hug as Shane and the kids readied to leave a half hour later. “This was so fun!” he hooted. “Your downstairs is like the best ever I like it so much!” He spread his arms wide, his expression hopeful.
“If Devlyn wants to bring you guys over here to play, you’re welcome anytime,” Mary told him. “I’ll text her and let her know.”
“Awesome!” Sammy didn’t barrel into Mary. He grinned at her, flashing his bigger front teeth. “See you tomorrow!”
He charged out the door. Shane caught the old-fashioned wooden storm door before it banged shut. “He’s all boy.”
“Just the way he should be,” noted Jess.
Jolie had reorganized the box of books. Mysteries on one side, regular fiction on the other. She came forward and Shane reached out for the box. “I can carry them, honey.”
“I’ve got them. But thank you.” She offered him a quiet look. “You always help me, Pops, but it’s good for me to learn how to take care of myself. I’m ten now.”
Shane winced but Jolie didn’t see it. She’d turned toward Jess. “Thank you for this. I’ll have so much fun reading them.”
“Good.” Jess didn’t mention that the girl’s expression belied her words, or that her somber bearing was tough to watch. She touched a hand to Jolie’s shoulder. “I buried myself in books when I was a kid, right through high school. I loved reading, loved transporting myself to other worlds, other times, other characters. And these are some of my favorites.”
“I’ll take real good care of them.”
“Thank you.” Should she hug her?
That would mess up Jolie’s need for space. Her burdens stood in sharp contrast to Sam’s easygoing manner. “I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
“Yes.” Shane held the door wide, and Jolie balanced the box. It was a struggle, and still she didn’t ask for help.
Jess turned back to Shane. Her mother had gone upstairs. She motioned toward his truck. “They’re good kids, Shane. Sam’s a riot and Jolie’s got an old soul, but she’ll be all right.”
“You think?” Worry lines creased his brow.
“Give it time,” she reminded him. “It’s not just about loss, it’s a combination of maturity, loss, change and a dose of self-doubt.”
“Why would a beautiful, straight-A student doubt anything?” Shane wasn’t pretending his surprise. “How can that be something?”
“Maybe because it isn’t enough.” Saying the words, Jess realized their truth. Not just for Jolie, but for herself. She’d been trying to be top dog for as long as she could remember and, in the end, what had she gained?
Nothing of note. And that was sad.
He gave her a tender smile. Then he hooked a thumb at the truck. “Gotta go.” He pushed open the door.
“I know. I’m glad we all had supper together, Shane.”
“Me, too. It was perfect, Jess.”
The warmth in his gaze made her blush because it wasn’t “perfect.” A sad child, a cancer survivor and a cancer patient?
And yet it felt right, so she went along with his assertion. “It was, wasn’t it?” She leaned up and feathered a kiss to his cheek, just because. “Maybe perfect isn’t about the numbers, Shane. Maybe it just comes down to the people.”
“Pops, it’s cold out here! Like freezing cold!” Sam’s plea for warmth pulled Shane away, but as she watched his black truck pull out of the driveway, a hint of peace settled in. But it was false hope. Shane would leave and her mother would be gone, leaving what?
You know what. People in need. Sick people, everyday folks wanting and needing what your mother gave them for over forty-five years. Solid medical care.
The thought of such a major change made her hands tremble. She’d come here wanting to help, not wanting to step into her mother’s shoes. So why did working at the makeshift clinic feel right?
A light blinked on in the town below. The steeple light from the church, broken in the fire, now cast a golden glow in four directions, begging to be noticed. She’d trudged by so many beautiful and historic churches in New York—a mainstay along the streets of Manhattan. But the magnificent cathedrals didn’t call to her.
This humble church did.
Mary came downstairs as Jess closed the thick inner door. “They’re off?”
“Yes. How was your call with Ed and Hassie?”
Mary settled into the corner of the couch. She’d lost the wan look that spiked Jess’s worry. She was tired, but she’d perked up once the stomach bug had run its course. “They want help finding a home for the granddaughters before the county steps in and does it for them.”
“That’s a courageous step.” Jess didn’t take the seat beside her mother. She sank to the floor alongside her instead. “How brave of them to make that choice. And if you need time to scope things out, I’ll be here as long as you need me. Okay?”
Mary reached out a hand to Jess’s cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Well, the feeling’s mutual, so if you could arrange not to die, that would be a help.”
“I know.” Mary smiled, but it was full of regret. “If I could, I would, but my body and the Lord have other plans, it seems.”
“I looked into possible treatments,” Jess admitted. “At lunch today.” She turned to face her mother. “I wanted to buy you some time. Then I figured I’d better talk to you because I’m sure you’ve already checked.” She put her hand over her mother’s in a compassionate gesture. “Not to talk you into anything, but to see what’s out there.”
“Thank you, Jess.” Mary kept her hand along Jess’s cheek, the way she used to when Jess was a little girl. “We did the tests in Houston. The recommended chemos weren’t an option for me. I’ve got the AGT factor, so surgery and radiation were the best shots at giving me time, and they did. Time enough to be here now. To have you here, and fix what we can.”
That was how her mother had kept her treatment under the radar. “No chemo, no hair loss.”
“And no tissue damage from radiation, so I could continue practicing, but that’s got to come to an end soon,” Mary said softly. “I can’t risk making a bad judgment call. The confusion is likely to grow and fatigue will become an issue.”
“Hence the dolled-up practice to lure new doctors in.”
“God may have closed some doors with that fire, but he left windows open, and this town deserves a chance to shine,” Mary told her. “It’s never had the opportunity.
“That fire took a lot, but if we’re smart, we can rise up like that bird.” She frowned, searching for a word that should have come to her instantly.
It pained Jess that it didn’t.
“The phoenix,” Jess supplied.
“Yes.” Mary offered a rueful look. “It used to be me helping you remember things.”
“So now we switch things up a little.” Jess squeezed her hand lightly. “No regrets, no worries.”
“There’s not a moment of raising you that I’ve forgotten or regretted,” Mary replied. “Except when I said no to that blue-and-green prom dress,” she amended.
“In retrospect, it was hideous, so thank you for standing your ground.” Jess clutched her mother’s hand. “We did okay, didn’t we?”
“Then and now,” Mary told her. She yawned and laid her head back on the thick pillow Jess had brought down from upstairs the day before. She yawned again as weariness took over. “Good night, my darling.”
An endearment that Jess hadn’t heard in person for far too long. “Good night, Mom. I love you.”
A faint smile softened Mary’s jaw. “I know, honey. You always have. We make a good team, Jess.”
They did.
The thought that Mary would no longer be part of the team made Jess’s eyes water. She wanted to reply, to agree, but the words wouldn’t form around the lump in her throat.
“No need for words, darling,” Mary whispered. “Not between us. You go rest, all right?”
Mary’s eyes drifted closed again.
Jess crept up the stairs. The waxing January moon shone like a smiley face outside her window, a crescent set aloft in a shimmer of stars. She couldn’t even remember the last time she noticed a moonrise. And yet here was the moon, glimmering in the western sky, a reminder that it hadn’t moved.
She had.
Jess curled up in her mother’s bed and this time didn’t fight the tears. She let them come, unchecked. For her, for her mother, for sorrowed children, and for all the sadness she’d seen over the years.
And when she finally blotted her eyes, calmed her aching chest and blew her nose, the moon still shone, a curve of gentle, reflective light.
She wiped her eyes one more time then spotted the wall hanging a patient had given Mary years ago. “Weeping may endure for a night...” it read along the top rows, then below, in a prettier font it said, “but joy cometh in the morning.”
One of her mother’s favorite verses.
She took a breath. A deep one. She glanced at the moon, then read the verse one more time. And then she laid down her head and went to sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nearly a dozen years of medical training and over a dozen more in experiential learning didn’t top Sam’s and Jolie’s grins when Jess handed them a box of brownie mix and let them make brownies the next afternoon.
“Why are we making these? Is it something special?” wondered Jolie as she measured the oil into the bowl while Sam cracked the eggs.
“We’re celebrating that we’ve escaped the stomach bug so far,” Jess told them. “In medical circles, that’s a big deal.”
“Then hooray for us!” Sam poured the cracked eggs into a bowl as he whooped, and his excitement caused one slippery egg to cascade outside the bowl and onto the island countertop. “Oh, no!” He looked chagrined. “Miss Jess, I’m so sorry!”
“Accidents happen, Sam,” she began, but Jolie’s reaction claimed center stage.
“What is the matter with you?” Voice low, she slipped off the stool and faced her little brother. “Why can’t you just get things right? Do things right? Is it so hard to put eggs in a bowl, Sam? Like a normal person?”
“Jolie.” Jess put a hand on her shoulder. “Stop. It’s not a big deal. It’s just an egg.”
“I’m sorry.” Dismay darkened Sam’s features. “I shouldn’a got so excited, and now I messed things up. I’m sorry, Miss Jess.”
“Sam.” She bent to face him as Jolie stalked off, plunked herself onto the couch and put a sofa pillow over her face. “We all make mistakes. Kids and grown-ups. It’s all right. Here.” She handed him a folded paper towel. “Slide that bad boy into this bowl. We’ll toss it away and crack a new one, okay?”
“Just slide it?”
“This is where we use their slipperiness to our advantage,” Jess assured him while she wet a dishcloth to wash the countertop. And when she’d washed and dried it, she handed him another egg. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
“Pops says that, too.” He cracked the egg and used a less excited approach to let it slide into the mixing bowl. “He says we’ve gotta keep on trying, but JoJo gets mad when I mess up because she thinks our dad won’t want us if I keep messing up. Our real dad,” he added to make sure Jess understood, and she did. The little boy’s words made her heart stand still.
“Stop talking!” Jolie jumped up, eyes wide. A flood of emotions rained across her sweet face. “Why do you have to say things, Sam? You’re such a baby!”
“I’m not,” he protested right back. “I’m just saying what you told me, how our real dad might not find us down here because he might not know where we are. It’s not a secret. Right?”
Jolie’s face crumpled. Clearly it had been a secret.
And Sam, so excited about making brownies moments before, sat on the stool, utterly defeated.
Jess stood in the middle, having no idea how to fix hearts torn in two by emotional trauma.
A thought nudged her as she watched Jolie’s shoulders shake with quiet tears.
You know exactly how because you wondered the same thing.
Jess crossed the room and took the seat next to Jolie.
Jolie turned away, tucking her head, wanting something she couldn’t have and would maybe never have: the love of biological parents. And that was something Jess could understand. “I don’t know who my father is,” she began softly. Sam didn’t move. He sat on the stool, looking bereft. Head buried in the pillow, Jolie stayed turned away.
