High Hurdles Collection Two (63 page)

“Yep, the boys gave her a bath yesterday. I think they got wetter than the dog.”

At her mother's nod, DJ got to her feet and began gathering up the wrapping paper and ribbons.

“Save the ribbons,” Gran said, reaching for a multicolored bunch of curling ribbon. “These are much too pretty to throw away.”

Joe groaned. “Mel, the saver. Good thing we have a big house.”

“Takes one to know one. Dad, you are the original pack rat.” Andy handed Gran another bow. “Used to drive Mom nuts.”

DJ watched her grandmother's face. Did it bother her to hear about Joe's deceased wife?

“Getting him to throw something away is like pulling teeth.” Gran dropped a kiss on Joe's receding hairline. “But that's his only fault, and you really can't call saving a fault. Actually,
thrifty
is a better word.”

Joe snagged her around the waist and drew her to his side. “This woman can turn anything into a compliment, so watch your mouth, young man.”

Robert shook his head. “Watch out, Andy. He might be older, but he's still bigger than you. And retired cops know all kinds of sneaky tricks to get their own way.”

DJ leaned on the back of her mother's chair, receiving a smile full of love from Lindy. Since DJ had been an “only” for so many years, the teasing that went on in this big new family of hers made her laugh both inside and out. Pretty soon Gran and Joe would have been married a year. Her mother and Robert were married on Valentine's Day. Such a year of changes.

After the mess was cleaned up and the boys had carried their new toys and clothes to their room, the guests gathered up their things and made their way out the front door. DJ got hugs along with the rest, even though Andy's family now lived only a couple of miles away. They had bought DJ's old house.

“See ya tomorrow, 'kay?” Shawna lingered behind her folks. She rolled her lips together. “Would you … I mean, do you have time to …”

“To what?” DJ stuck her hands in her back pockets.

“To be with me when I ride Major tomorrow?”

“Sure. If you wait until afternoon. Gran and I have class in the morning.”

“Good.” Shawna beamed. “I know I've ridden him before but … this is different.” Her eyes darkened in concern. “This … it won't make you feel bad, will it?”

DJ shook her head. “Nope.”

“Come on, Shawna. You can talk tomorrow.” Andy waved from the car.

“See ya. Thanks, DJ.” Shawna turned and trotted down the curving walk.

“I think we have a major case of hero worship there.” Joe put his arms around DJ and gave her a hug.

“And I think it's good for both of them.” Gran looped her hand through her husband's crooked arm. “Maria made a fresh pot of coffee if you want some.” Together they turned and followed Robert and Lindy back to the kitchen.

“DJ, you want something to drink?” Gran poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter.

DJ shook her head. Now was the time. Did she want to hear the story or not?

“Okay, let's go on out to the gazebo, then.” Gran took DJ's arm. “I saw the new cushions on the seats. Should be a good place to watch the sunset, right?”

DJ felt like running the other way.

“DJ, can you play Candyland with us?” The twins materialized at her side.

“Not now. I get DJ for a while.” Gran smiled down at the boys.

“But we—”

“Come on, your dad and I will play.” Lindy reached for the boys' hands. “And I get the red marker.”

The breeze that ruffled the oak leaves lifted the tendrils of hair from DJ's neck. The grass felt cool on her bare feet and invited her to sit. But DJ and Gran continued on to the redwood gazebo Robert had built for Lindy on the far side of the lawn.

“My, this place is so different since Robert got going on it.” Gran leaned over to smell a coral-colored rose. “When I think back to all the work you and I did on the yard at our other house …” She smiled at her granddaughter. “You've always been such a good helper.”

“I like working in the yard with you. Mom is trying, but it isn't the same. You know so much about all the flowers and she's just learning, I guess. Besides, here the gardener does a lot of the work and she kind of supervises.”

“Makes a difference. But then, you don't have much time to dig in the dirt anymore.” Gran settled back on the flowered cushions, propping one behind her back. “Ah, now, this is the life. I've always wanted a gazebo.”

“So tell GJ and he'll make you one.”

“I know.” A gentle smile teased the corner of her mouth. “He spoils me something awful.”

DJ arranged a nest out of a couple of cushions at her grandmother's feet and made herself comfortable. Laughter from the game players sounded far away. General nickered from his paddock, and Queenie's toenails clicked across the flooring. She sighed as she joined DJ on the cushions.

DJ waited, still not sure if she wanted to hear this or not.

Gran set her coffee mug on the railing and used that hand to stroke DJ's hair. After a peaceful pause, she began. “You were only two and such a busy little person, we could hardly keep up with you. I was at work—that was before I got to stay home and illustrate full time. Lindy had gone back to finish school, and Grandpa was taking care of you. He was on swing shift then, so he could be at home with you. We didn't use day care very often. The three of us took turns making sure you were cared for.”

DJ swallowed. “So …” She cleared her throat. “So then what happened?”

“It's so long ago, I have to think hard to remember all the things.” Gran took a sip of her coffee and set the mug back down.

“Anyway, since you were down for a nap, Grandpa had a fire going out in the backyard to burn some brush. He had gone behind the garage for something and was just coming back. Somehow you had gotten out of your crib, opened the door, and toddled out to the fire. Who knows why, maybe because of the bright colors, but you grabbed a piece of burning wood. He said you let out a scream that could have wakened the dead. Grandpa rushed over, grabbed you up, and stuck your hand in a bucket of water he'd kept by the fire. Then he took you to the urgent care center not far from our house.”

Gran shook her head. “He couldn't forgive himself. The next night he had the heart attack and died before the ambulance could get there.”

“So you're saying I killed my grandfather.”

“Darla Jean Randall, that is not what I'm saying at all! Your getting burned was an accident, pure and simple, and had nothing to do with his heart attack. Besides, it wasn't your fault he couldn't forgive himself.” Gran leaned forward and tilted DJ's chin up with one finger. “That reaction is exactly why I've hesitated to tell you the story before now. You have a tendency to think everything that goes wrong is your fault.”

“But could something like that cause a person to have a heart attack?”

Gran kept on shaking her head. “DJ, when God says it's time for someone to go home to heaven, there is nothing we can do to stop that. Even if the paramedics had gotten there sooner, it wouldn't have helped. His heart just quit. The heart trouble had to have been building for some time—we just didn't know it.”

DJ stared at the scar in her hand. “And that's what makes me turn into a zombie when I see fire? I mean, it wasn't like the end of the world or anything.”

“The human mind is a mystery. A doctor I asked about it said that the pain of the burn, the fire, and your grandfather being so upset probably all combined to affect you this way since you were so little. But I know that God can heal minds as well as burns, so we will keep praying.”

“I guess.” DJ kept her thoughts to herself.
How come He hasn't done anything so far? We've been praying
. “You s'pose the voice I hear screaming is really me back when it happened?”

“I wouldn't be at all surprised.”

DJ leaned her head on Gran's knee and relaxed under her grandmother's ministering fingers.

“Darla Jean, darlin', listen to me and listen carefully.” Gran leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees.

DJ turned so she could see her grandmother's face.

“God's timing isn't our timing, and He isn't there to give us everything we ask for right when we ask. He
will
heal you, inside and out, in
His
time. Our job is to be faithful in prayer and thank Him for all He has done and will do. Do you understand?” She cupped DJ's cheeks in her gentle hands.

DJ nodded. “I guess. But it's hard to keep praying for something when nothing happens.”

“I know, but that's how faith grows. Like a muscle, it has to stretch with use and get stronger. God is in the faith-stretching business so we can become the people He wants us to be.”

DJ could feel the sigh start down about her toenails and work its way up. “But it's so hard.”

Gran chuckled. “I know, darlin', I know.”

I wish I knew what it would take to get over this
, DJ thought later.
I just wish I knew
.

Chapter • 3

“Thanking God for something that hasn't happened yet feels dumb.” DJ continued their discussion from the evening before on Wednesday morning.

Gran chuckled and turned her blinker on for the turn into the Diablo Valley College parking lot. Their final pottery class started in fifteen minutes.

“I'm sure He has already put things into motion for you. You just can't see the results yet. One of my favorite verses says something like ‘Before you call, I will answer.' ”

“Huh?” One eyebrow quirked toward her hairline.

“I've seen it happen many times. I will ask for something, but for me to receive what I'd asked for, He had to have started the process long before. Like for you now with Herndon. How old is Herndon?”

“Twelve.”

“And how long has Jackie had him?”

“Five, six years, somewhere in there.”

“See what I mean?”

DJ nibbled on her bottom lip. “How can He do that?”

Gran shrugged. “He's God, that's how.”

“But …”

“But what?” Gran swung the car into a parking slot and turned off the motor. She turned her head to watch her granddaughter.

DJ studied the ragged cuticle on her right thumb. Normally she would want to chew it off, but this time she wasn't even tempted. She looked from her thumb to her grandmother. “I didn't want to chew it.” She held up her thumb. “Gran, I didn't want to chew it!” Her voice rose along with the words.

“And how long ago did we start praying for you to quit chewing your fingernails?”

“I don't know. A long time—last fall I think.” DJ continued shaking her head, all the while staring at her thumb. “You have any hand lotion?”

“Um-hum. And a bitty scissors that can snip that skin off so it doesn't tear further.” Gran dug in her purse and brought out both things.

DJ cut off the skin and handed the scissors back. “You have a hammer in there, too?”

Gran raised one eyebrow. “No, why?”

DJ tossed the now closed tube of hand lotion back to her and grinned. “Just checking. I was beginning to think you carried everything in there.” She pointed to the straw tote taking up most of the seat between them.

“Smart aleck.” But the smile on Gran's face said far more to DJ than the words. Together they walked up the concrete walk, around the corner of the building, and up the stairs.

“I hope that vase I did for Mom turns out as nice as I see it in my head.”

“The form was lovely. Mr. Charles told you that himself.”

“I know, but sometimes the glazes do funny things.”

All the students were gathered around the pieces that had been through the latest firing. Mr. Charles, the instructor, was making comments about each piece. He pointed out both flaws and good points, keeping people laughing while he spoke.

When he got to DJ's two pieces, he held up the vase. “Now, this is the first piece that DJ was able to get above flat or slightly rounded. Not for lack of trying, mind you.”

Everyone groaned along with DJ.

“However, she did make some nice flat platters, if you recall.”

One of them had blown up in the kiln, so DJ shook her head.

“But this one is lovely.” He turned it carefully so everyone could see, using his finger to trace the pattern she'd cut into the damp clay. “And the glaze turned out well, too. Only a bit of bubbling here at the bottom but not something that detracts too much from the piece. Good job, DJ.”

Next he picked up Gran's bowl. When he held it up, everyone could see the slight sag on one side. “More work on the wheel will overcome this, but the coloring is good. It should be, considering this lady makes her living as an illustrator of children's books. There is real art in this family's gene pool.”