Healing Grace (7 page)

His enthusiasm was infectious and she smiled back. It was nice to see him happy about something instead of morose and feeling sorry for himself as he sometimes was before a hospital visit. She had not yet asked a direct question about his symptoms and their possible underlying causes.

“Maybe I’ll visit up there sometime,” she said.

Ted looked at her as if she’d just announced she wished to visit the moon and needed directions. “We’ll all go,” he said. “I’ll take you.”

* * * *

Jimmy arrived the next day. Grace had been invited to meet him at the family campfire pit after dinner. The young man stood shoulder to shoulder with his father. When he finished filling out, he would take after the paternal line with a straight nose and deep blue eyes. He wore his hair fashionable curly and streaked, and proclaimed his joy at being away from the hot restaurant kitchen where he washed dishes. The job was okay, he told her in a growly voice. “My mom’s the manager and makes the soup du jour. She knows my schedule.”

Grace nodded, seeing right through his sullen-on-the-outside act. Jimmy fidgeted. Although Randy spoke with pride of the good grades and musical honors that Jimmy earned, they probably didn’t get together enough to be comfortable with each other.

“So, you’re a junior?” she asked him. He nodded. “What are your plans after high school?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged his young giant shoulders. “I haven’t decided about college yet.”

“Hmm.” Grace poked the fire with a stick. Orange and yellow flames licked at aromatic apple wood, while a gentle breeze wafted the aroma. Eddy chased fireflies near the lilac bushes. Jimmy shifted with restless motions, ill-at-ease, probably, with hanging around the company of older folks and one energetic little boy all day. Several kids from the church youth group were going to Sleeping Bear Dunes on the lakeshore the next week and Randy signed Jimmy up over his protests. But Grace understood about being in the company of strangers and felt sorry for him.

He crouched on the grass in front of the crackling bonfire pit, rocking back and forth. As if suddenly remembering his manners, he turned to ask his uncle, “Um, so, Uncle Ted, how are you feeling these days?”

Ted craned his head back at his nephew, a smile reflected in the firelight. “Thanks for asking. I’m actually feeling okay, Jimmy. Mostly tired—and tired of being tired.” He impaled another marshmallow and handed his roasting stick to Eddy, who promptly stuck it in the ashes.

Jimmy bent his head. “I can’t imagine, man, feeling that way and nothin’ anyone can do. Don’t the doctors have it figured out yet?”

“Not exactly. They can tell me what they think it isn’t—which isn’t saying much, is it?”

Ted was rarely this candid about his condition, and Grace was surprised at the conversation. She looked over at Randy, curiously, to find his eyes on her. He shook his head slightly in agreement. They had spent longer moments together lately talking comfortably and companionably about many things. Ted’s brother certainly stored emotion deeply, something she had only recently come to understand and appreciate. Who would have thought they would turn out to be kindred spirits after the contentious first couple of weeks?

The quiet talk continued between Ted and Jimmy. Grace caught hushed snippets of high school antics, the trumpet, cars, and girls.

She smiled and tuned it out, eventually getting up to hunt for Eddy. It was bedtime. After setting the little guy in the tub and leaving the door open to listen to him sing and splash, she sat down to read the guidebook she found in the Marshalls’ living room. A visit to the famous Lake Michigan dunes climbed to the top of her wish list.

“Hey, Eddy!” she called and then went to stand near the bathroom. “Has anyone ever told you the legend of the Sleeping Bear?” she asked.

Eddy slapped bubbles with a frayed brown terry washcloth. “I don’t think so,” he sang, in time to the splashing. Grace smiled.

“Listen. It’s from Ojibway Indian stories. Long ago, in the land of Wisconsin, Mother Bear and her two cubs swam into Lake Michigan to save them from a raging forest fire. The cubs swam strongly but the other side of the shore was too far away. They fell farther and farther behind and sank in the waters. When Mother Bear reached the Michigan side, she climbed to the top of a bluff, pacing and looking back across the water, searching in vain for her cubs. The Great Spirit saw her and took pity on her vigil. He piled up the two Manitou Islands to mark the place where her cubs vanished and put Mother Bear to sleep.”

She set the book down and went into the bathroom. She reached into the cooling water of the tub to pull the plug and wrap a big fluffy towel around Eddy as she hauled him out.

“Why did the mommy bear have to sleep?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“So she could have good dreams about her children, I suppose.” She cradled him, rocking gently, reveling in her good fortune to be part of this little guy’s life. “Let’s get you in bed and see what kind of good dreams you have.”

* * * *

The spasm of misgiving that taunted Randy since he signed his son up for the youth group trip grew into a heart attack of doubt when he dropped Jimmy off at the church parking lot. About twenty kids and five chaperons milled about with parents or siblings. Beach bags and coolers were being loaded into the back of the bus and someone already had a guitar strumming. Jimmy gravitated slowly toward the music. Randy’s heart shimmied when Kaye arrived with her niece. They didn’t attend First Covenant Church, so what were they doing here? Tanya’s friends must have invited her along on the trip to Sleeping Bear Dunes.

Randy stared at Kaye, the hunger and longing a slow ache that had never healed over twenty years. And now… He narrowed his eyes. What was with that kid? After complaining about rising so early to meet the bus, Jimmy changed directions mid-pace to meet up with Tanya.

Randy paced by his car, thinking maybe he should tell Jimmy not to go after all. This was not a good development. The whole business had started three days ago at the diner when the kids met at lunch. The sparks that flew between his son and the waitress could have lit a fire. Not good—not good at all. Nothing good comes from high school romances. He should know. He couldn’t help it; he had been short with the girl. He’d complained about the coffee first, knowing that ordering hot coffee in the heat of August was a mistake. The pot had obviously been left over since breakfast and tasted stale. Still, a good waitress would have made fresh.

He had ignored her when she brought a full pot several minutes later. Tanya, with uncustomary shakiness, spilled a few drops on his silverware. He gave her the look then, and watched her retreat, breathing hard, her face scrunched and red. A good waitress shouldn’t sweat the small stuff. Of course his attitude fed the animosity Jimmy carried as a chip. Jimmy got on his case then.

“Dad, why’d you have to be so hard on her?”

Randy ignored him while he drowned his French fries in ketchup.

He had been unprepared for Kaye’s steely-eyed assault when she brought their check.

“What gives, Randy?” she had asked point blank.

Randy was already ashamed of his behavior, embarrassing his son like that. He didn’t make excuses. “Sorry about that. Bad morning.” He left an overly generous tip and muttered, “Have to get back to work. See you at home about five,” to Jimmy, who stayed behind.

Now he wished he knew how long Jimmy had stayed. Randy kicked some gravel with the toe of his shoe before he got into his car and drove to work.

In the evening, when Randy went to pick up Jimmy, he watched a familiar car pull into the lot. Kaye emerged, held a hand up to block the glare of the setting sun, and then brushed back her heavy swath of hair set free from the confining net she wore at work. He stayed still against the warmth of his own car door, still as a deer caught in headlights, hoping not to be noticed so he could keep on watching her. She saw him anyway, waved, and sauntered over.

“It was a nice day. I hope the kids had a good time,” she said, skipping over a greeting.

“Hmm.”

“Jimmy goes back Sunday?”

Not a moment too soon. “Yes, I’ll drive him up home. School starts soon.”

“Look, Randy, I think you should know something.” She held her hand up to her eyes again, turning toward the road as if to spy the bus. Randy slumped against the side of his car and crossed his arms, head bent, sure of the news to come.

“You know I’m not really much into the parenting scene. I love Tanya, but she’s easy, not like when we were kids, you know?”

Randy shifted against the warm side of the car, irritable. Of course he knew. He sighed. “Yes.”

“We had a good talk, your boy and me. He’s nice, Randy. You and Jenny did well with him.”

“Jenny did, you mean.”

“You, too, Randy. I mean it. But Tanya’s not ready for anything serious. I don’t want that for her. She’s never asked me for time off before, like yesterday—and today. I already said yes to this trip before Jimmy came, so that was okay. But, yesterday? You know they spent the whole time together, don’t you?”

He hadn’t. Jimmy hadn’t said anything besides “hung out with some peeps” when he’d asked yesterday evening what Jimmy had done all day. “Thanks for telling me. They just met, and Jimmy’s leaving. They’ll forget about this by the time school starts. Don’t worry.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The bus pulled in. Parents herded over to pick up their various progeny and friends. Kaye held up her hand again, shielding her eyes from the last blast of sunset. She caught her breath and Randy turned to look, too. All the kids had exited the bus except for one last couple tangled together in the back. Randy beetled his brows under his aviator sunglasses and he started forward. Kaye put her hand on his arm.

“Wait. Randy, it’s only a kid thing. Don’t fuel it or make it worse. Please.”

Randy looked down at her neat hand and let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“If we make a big deal out of it that will only encourage them,” she said.

“You’re right. Okay.” Randy sighed. “Yeah. Jimmy goes back on Sunday.”

One of the chaperons hustled the kids off the bus. Randy thrust aside the old, old feeling of regret he had every time he thought about Jenny. When he saw his ex-wife again, he had to be collected or she would wonder if something was wrong. He didn’t see enough of his boy as it was, and he did not want to alienate Jimmy or his mother. Not this late in the game. Jimmy was almost a man. He forced a smile. “You sure you’re not into the motherhood thing? You seem to have good instincts around Tanya.”

His compensation was the pleased look on her face, the softening expression in her eyes. It would have to be enough to hold him. She’d rejected him once but she’d never gotten over his rebound to her best friend either. He watched her lead Tanya to her car, whispering heatedly in the girl’s ear. Tanya turned for one last look at Jimmy. Neither waved or acknowledged the other.

Jimmy got silently into their car. Randy hesitated at the wheel, wondering what to say.

“Save it, Dad,” Jimmy stated. Randy immediately bristled until he realized his son was simply on guard against what he assumed would be a natural reaction.

He let go a deep breath and turned on the ignition. “It looks like you had a pretty good time,” he said mildly, and was rewarded by Jimmy’s gape. Randy smiled. “Close your mouth, son. You’re lettin’ in sand lions.” They both laughed.

On Sunday they had the best trip back into the Upper Peninsula he could remember. This must be the start of something good. Kaye had sought him out to talk and he and Jimmy found a reasonable place to meet each other half-way. The long wait for God to answer his prayers had been worth it. Please, God, for Ted. Now for Ted. Heal him.

Ted Marshall had become accustomed to tingling pain sparking up and down his limbs and spine, and having various parts of his anatomy betray him with trembling and total collapse. He frowned and flexed his left foot.
Something was different.
He was reluctant to even hope his range of motion seemed easier these last couple of weeks. His last headache had been—well, he couldn’t remember when the last one laid him out. The physical therapy must be starting to kick in. His left leg had all but stopped its twitching, he realized, though the arm had not.

He and Eddy had a good time on their “men’s” fishing trip earlier in the summer. He felt strong enough to guide their boat out. Swimming did wonders to ease the trembling. It had been the most pleasant summer since Dad passed. Since Jilly. Since the year of the apple disaster. He finished a complicated schedule for pruning and spraying at the Woolver’s orchards, profiting Eddy’s trust fund. He also worked out a rotation of needed housing between the migrant workers and the several housing facilities maintained between the co-op and the larger marketers. The clients were pleased.

Ted eased himself onto the lower step of Grace’s house while he watched his son stalk the cat, Trigger. Grace’s house. He realized it didn’t bother him, being able to move on. The house had been his—his and Jilly’s—for a few years first, and Dad’s before that. Life here with his wife had not been all that pleasant. Except for Eddy.

He twisted his lips as his hand slid down the length of the cane which replaced the crutch. He set it aside, wishing he could be out there playing with Eddy and Grace. He was still too unsteady to move quickly on uneven ground.
Maybe soon, if I keep improving
.

Grace waved at him, brushing her wind-blown hair out of her eyes, and clamped her silly floppy green hat back onto her head when the breeze threatened to take it. They had been to church that morning and she had not complained about complying with the unwritten rule of headgear for women. She had not yet changed her clothes from the full skirt and light top she had worn to the service. She had, however, removed her sandals and ran barefoot in the lawn. If he felt more like a healthy man with a future, something to offer a woman like Grace, he might think about getting into the dating game again. What had happened to her husband? Had he been elderly, sick, or had his death been a sudden shock? He rather thought the latter, although he had not felt right about asking. She should have been a mother. He loved watching her with Eddy.