Reunion: A Novel Page 3

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked after buckling his seat belt.

  “The drive-in. I want a chocolate shake, and they make the best.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat. “Finals start in two more days.”

  “You’re not worried, are you?” He backed out of his parking place and drove out onto the street. “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather go to a sit-down restaurant?”

  “Nope. And by the way, I’m buying.” She raised her hand, palm out. “Don’t argue with me. I’ve been letting you buy lately and I know you don’t have extra money either. I’ve got my allowance. Been too busy to spend it.”

  “But I’m the one with a job.” His brow wrinkled.

  “Oh, for puppies’ sake, don’t go pulling macho on me. I know you have a job and I’ll have one soon. So just order what you want and let me feel useful.”

  “Puppies’ sake?” He tried to keep a straight face. “Puppies’ sake?” And failed.

  That was one of the things she liked to do, make him laugh. José Flores had the most wonderful male laugh in all of Munsford. She giggled along with him. It worked and got him to quit harping on letting her pay. After all, they had agreed to be partners, and partners shared expenses.

  When her milkshake came, she drew in a long swallow. Uh-oh, big mistake. “Oh ugh, brain freeze.” She rubbed her forehead and sinuses.

  “Press your tongue against the roof of your mouth, it’ll stop.”

  She gave him a funny look but did as he said without arguing. “Hey, it worked. Where did you learn that?”

  “Read it online.” He sipped his own shake, being careful not to do the same thing.

  When they stopped in her driveway, she unbuckled and turned to face him. “You are coming in, aren’t you?”

  He checked his watch. “Not for long. I need to go home and change.” He climbed out and came around the car, where she waited.

  She swallowed. The milkshake was not sitting well in her stomach. “You’re at the grocery store tonight?” He often filled in for the courtesy clerks at the grocery store, always in the hope that he would get hired on full time for the summer. Once graduation was over he would also be lifeguarding at the pool. They probably wouldn’t see a lot of each other this summer.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She couldn’t tell him she felt like throwing up, but closing her eyes and letting her head fall forward helped.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I will be.” Sucking in and holding a couple of deep breaths helped too. Surely it couldn’t be anything else. Her stomach was just touchy. But what if…?

  “Kirsten.” He crouched beside the car. “Tell me.”

  “I said it’s nothing, but I’m… I’m just PMSing and it’s making me feel icky.”

  “Oh.”

  “I feel lots better. The milkshake upset my stomach, I think.” Please God, let it be so.

  He reached for her backpack at her feet, his face concerned.

  “All will be well, José, my grandma always said so.” She climbed out and kissed him on the chin. “You’ll see.”

  She’s never sick, and this came on so suddenly.

  Leah swung the plastic bags of pictures she’d found. Her mind continued to dig into the quandary. Keira hadn’t wanted to go out to the home place but she was fine, at least it seemed so at first. A few tears, but that was to be expected. Losing her mother had been hard on her, especially the long fight against cancer. Dagmar Sorenson had indeed been a strong woman, but in spite of the prayers of so many people, the cancer had won.

  Like so many medical professionals, Leah had to fight against taking death personally. They had done all they could and had prayed that God would do the final healing. He had, just not the way they all wanted. She’d loved Dagmar too, something that was not hard to do. None of the typical joking comments fit her as either a mother or a mother-in-law. Leah pushed open the wrought-iron gate and took the steps to her house in a rush. So much to do in spite of not having to cook supper. Since Kirsten wouldn’t be home until later, she could work for a couple of hours on the counted cross-stitch sampler she’d started for her daughter’s high school graduation present. It included a favorite Bible verse, date, and place, all surrounded by pansies, Kirsten’s favorite flower.

  Humming, she strolled through the entry and turned into the south-facing room that had at one time been a bedroom but now had morphed into her hideaway, complete with sign above the door that read LEAH’S LAIR. She put the sacks of pictures on the table where she had the memory book in progress spread out and stared down at one of the pictures she’d been working with: the day Curt, their older son, had been baptized. She and Marcus looked so young and they’d thought they were so mature. She stared at her husband’s face, that look of pride and awe and maybe even a bit of fear. After all, they’d promised to rear their baby in the love and fear of the Lord and teach him to follow God’s will. Looking back, they’d lived up to their promises of that day, although the way had not been easy. Curt was now in his first year of seminary. Maybe she should enlarge this print and give it to him framed for his future office.

  Turning on the stereo, she settled into her chair, clicked on the floor lamp, and picked up her stitchery. The needle flashing in and out was as mesmerizing as the piano playing her favorite classics. She knew better than to dwell on Keira and the other worries, like how Kirsten had been feeling the effects of graduation stresses and how Marcus was still finding it difficult to counsel people suffering from cancer.

  “You must be home, the music is on,” Marcus called from the kitchen.

  “I didn’t hear you come in. I’m stitching.”

  “Be there in a minute.”

  She thought of getting up to go greet him, but opted instead to put a few more stitches in the remaining two-toned purple pansy. She loved the homecoming time of day with the lowering sun’s rays slanting in through the window, sitting in her comfortable chair and working on her favorite—or rather one of her favorite—hobbies. As much as she loved sharing supper with Keira and Bjorn, having just her and Marcus alone together tonight was a special treat. She reminded herself to mark this on the calendar, a gift from God to rejoice over.

  “Now this looks like a bit of heaven.” Marcus crossed the room and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  She reached up and patted his cheek. “Feels like it too.”

  “You want to eat in here?”

  “Why yes, what a great idea. You want me to help set up?”

  “No, stay where you are. I’ll bring in one of those craft tables.”

  “How come I was so smart?”

  He turned from heading out the door. “How so?”

  “I married you.”

  “I thought that was supposed to be my line.” He winked at her and continued on his way. Once Marcus started something, he carried through, the sooner the better.

  So what had happened with Keira? Pondering this didn’t slow down her stitching. And pondering wasn’t really worrying, only thinking about an issue. Right? She switched needles for the next color. On a project like the one on her frame she kept extra needles, each threaded with a different color, to speed up the process. She moved the marking magnet down on the pattern on the metal stand and started stitching again, slanted lines marching across the fourteen-count cloth.

  “Oh my, but that smells good.” She smiled at her husband as he set up the table and placed the sack of carry-out food on it.

  “I know. It was all I could do to keep my fingers out of it in the car.” He opened the containers and set paper plates on each side. “What do you want to drink?”

  Leah shrugged. “Nothing for right now, let’s just eat.”

  Marcus pulled up a wingback chair and settled into it with a sigh.

  “Hard day?”

  “Somewhat. Let’s say grace and I’ll tell you about it.” He bowed his head and exhaled a deep breath. “Lord God, thank you for this food and our time together
. I thank you that you are always beside and in us and you have a plan for all the craziness I see going on around me. Thank you that you promise wisdom and insight. In your son’s precious name, Jesus, amen.”

  They each helped themselves to the chicken and sides and dug in. After a few bites, Marcus wiped his mouth and fingers. “How come we don’t do this more often?” He reached for the drumstick on his plate.

  “We used to.”

  “I know.” He paused. “So what happened with Keira and Bjorn? You said they’d be joining us tonight.”

  “Keira got sick out at the home place. It started with a headache, and then her stomach got queasy. Came on so suddenly, but then you know how she treats symptoms, says they’ll go away if you ignore them.”

  “So what happened?”

  “She couldn’t ignore how bad she felt, so I drove us home. She’s either soaking it out in the tub or sleeping it off in bed. I said we’d take a plate over to Bjorn.” She peered into the bucket of chicken. “I see you brought lots.”

  “Leftovers for lunch.”

  “So how did your day go?”

  “Mrs. Updahl asked me to come to the hospital and pray for her husband.”

  “Cancer.”

  “Yes, although it seems they might have gotten it in time.”

  “And you went?”

  “Of course. But it felt like my prayers didn’t even make it to the ceiling. I was just saying the words.” He looked from his plate to his wife. “I know God always hears and I know faith doesn’t depend on feelings, but…”

  “But you prayed for your mother fervently and for such a long time and she still died.”

  He nodded as he tipped his head back. “The enemy would have me think I failed.”

  “Oh, Marcus, you didn’t fail. You were obedient and faithful. What more can you be?”

  “My faith wasn’t strong enough.”

  “Or God just saw things differently. Your mother was so ready to go home.”

  “Of course. After the long fight she put up, she was exhausted.”

  “All the way through, she said, ‘God’s will be done.’ I don’t think her faith ever wavered. Dagmar absolutely trusted God to do the best. Remember her saying, ‘I don’t like the way they are running things here in my country anyway. I’d rather go home where sanity and love reign. Where all will be well.’ I remember laughing at the time, because it was so like her. And she got her wish.”

  “But God let her suffer so terribly.”

  Leah blinked back the tears and left her seat to kneel beside her husband’s knees. “I don’t have any answers for that, either. I don’t know why, but I sure want to be like her, a warrior to the end. What an example of a daughter of the king.”

  “You sound more like a pastor than I do.” He laid his hand gently on the back of her neck. “What would I ever do without you?”

  She turned her head to kiss his wrist. “I wonder the same. You remember that song we heard? The one that goes, ‘How will I stand heaven till you get there?’ That’s us.”

  “I fight tears every time I hear it.” He blew out a breath. “Thank you.”

  She laid her cheek on his thigh, the soft khaki fabric over a sportsman’s muscles. Lord God, keep him safe and remind him again how much you love him. He loved his mother so very much, and we still miss her every day. “Being out at the farm is still hard. Are we sure we want to do the reunion out there this year?”

  “I think we should. Better to get it over with than dread it for the future. Besides, we need to make some decisions about the place and I’d like everyone’s input. I think Keira feels the same.”

  “I suppose so. We couldn’t find the boxes of early pictures. You think Dagmar might have put them up in the attic?”

  “Perhaps. I have some phone calls I need to make, so could you fix up a plate for Bjorn and I’ll take it over?”

  “Of course.” Leah rose and started putting lids back on the containers. “The mail is on your desk. Bjorn’s plate will be ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “Just pack it all back in the sack and I’ll take the whole thing.”

  Food in hand, she headed for the kitchen where she divided up the food and put containers of everything back in the plastic bag and others in the fridge. Taking a pad of leaf-shaped sticky notes, she wrote. “Hi, Bjorn. No idea what bug got your wife, but here is supper. Call me if there is any news. We love you. L and M.”

  Leah cleared off the counter and returned to her stitching. Kirsten had said she’d be home around seven, so she had maybe an hour left. She had a bag ready for hiding the sampler and a decoy piece out to help keep the secret should her daughter walk into the room unexpectedly. As she stitched, one ear kept track of Marcus. He was still on the phone. As soon as he hung up, now wearing running clothes, he breezed by her, blew her a kiss, and exited out through the kitchen. Perhaps Bjorn would run with him, something they used to do together a lot, but too often now Bjorn would rather ride his bicycle. Said his knees were happier that way, ever since he passed the fifty mark.

  Her cell phone rang. She clicked on. “You’re not even out of the driveway yet.”

  “I know. What time is Kirsten supposed to get home?”

  “She said seven.”

  “Okay, I should be back by then.”

  They clicked off and she sat staring at the flat black face. How about that? An evening with no meetings for anyone. How could she stand it? She shook her head at her slight sarcasm and returned to stitching.

  Sometime later, when Leah heard a car pull in the driveway, she tucked the sampler down in the bag and picked up the small piece she was doing just to have a quick gift on hand. The garage door opened and closed, and after a few minutes the kitchen door did the same.

  “Mom, you here?” Kirsten called.

  “In my lair. Have you eaten?” When no answer came back, Leah put her stitchery down and went looking for her daughter. At five-nine and all bone and muscle, Kirsten took after Marcus’s side of the family. She stood staring into the open refrigerator, her long blond hair twisted and caught up in a plastic clip.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not really, I had a milkshake. Nothing sounds good.”

  “Did you and Keira catch the same bug? She got sick this afternoon too.”

  “I’m not sick and I don’t have a bug.” She shut the door with a bit more force than necessary and went to the cupboard to get a glass so she could pour herself some cold water from the spigot on the refrigerator door.

  Leah studied her daughter. The teen had lost weight in these last weeks of being overly stressed out about finals and graduation. While Kirsten kept saying everything would be all right once the ceremony was over, something made Leah think it was more than that. Had perfection become an obsession with her daughter? She was sure she’d heard Kirsten throwing up the other night. The girl had not done that for a long, long time. Leah often wondered how she and Marcus, with help from their two older sons, had managed to rear their youngest without spoiling her beyond belief. Besides doing so well in school, Kirsten and José were devout Christians and planning to go on a missions trip to Mexico this summer. Like her mother, Kirsten felt a deep need to help people.

  Leah let her thoughts roam. With their number two son in his junior year of college, promising to help Curt out with his seminary expenses, and now Kirsten talking about joining José in med school after college, Leah figured she might be forced to work full time to help pay all the college expenses.

  “We had Frankie’s chicken. There’s still some left. I could warm it up for you.”

  “Do we have any soup?”

  “Cream of tomato in the can, chicken with spaetzel in the freezer, and I think corn chowder in the fridge. I bought it the other day thinking of quick meals for you and Dad while I’m at work.”

  “How about the chicken soup?”

  “Shall I heat it up for you?”

  “Thanks. While it heats, I can get a shower.”


  Why is she not looking at me? “Are you all right?”

  “Mom, I’m not sick. Just tired. I’ll take a quick one.” Kirsten crossed the room, still not looking at her mother, and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

  What’s up with that? How long has it been since we’ve had a mother-daughter session? Leah could hear the shower running as she fixed the tray of food. She debated making tea, and then put the teakettle on. Even if Kirsten didn’t want any, she did. Herbal tea would be good at this time of night. No caffeine for any of them. Humming as she worked, she wished she had baked cookies or gotten some from Keira. Perhaps gingersnaps would calm Kirsten’s stomach. Maybe… She reached up on the spice shelf. Sure enough, there were still some pieces of the candied ginger. She added a small glass bowl to the tray and poured the ginger bits in, taking one herself.

  When the oven timer beeped, she stirred the soup, checked to see if it was hot enough, and set it again for another minute. She went to the bottom of the stairs and called up, “Almost ready. It’ll be in my lair.”

  “Coming.”

  Leah took the tray into her hideaway and set it on the craft table where she and Marcus had eaten earlier. Returning to the kitchen, she poured the boiling water into the teapot with several apple-spice herbal tea bags and carried that into the cozy room. The slap of tired feet on the back deck told her Marcus had returned.

  She found Kirsten sitting in the chair her father had used and nibbling on one of the crackers. “Dad’s home.”

  “Good.” Kirsten leaned forward and inhaled the steam from the soup bowl. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “There’s a bowl of candied ginger. Might help settle your stomach.”

  Kirsten muttered something under her breath, the nearest Leah could figure was, “I doubt it.”

  “You want a cup of tea?” She poured her own and a mug for Marcus, just as he came through the door. She handed him his cup and sat down in her chair. “All three of us for a change. Maybe I should mark it on the calendar.”

  Marcus held the cup in both hands as he leaned back in the chair. “Bjorn said that Keira was sound asleep when he came home and hasn’t moved since. He thanked us for the dinner but declined a run. Said he had work to do.”