Summer Shadows (10 page)

“I thank you for providing such a relaxing ending to what was
a very stressful day. But now—do you remember the old ads on TV? Mother, I’d rather do it myself?”

He nodded.

She looked up the steps and took a deep breath. “Me too.” Slowly she took herself upstairs. He waited to be certain she made it all right, then went inside. He had to agree with her; it had been an unexpectedly good evening.

He was floored when she came back down and drove away at eleven o’clock.

C
ELIA FITZMEYER
looked at her sleeping daughter as she lay in her hospital bed, looked at the red brush burns and deep blue bruises, at the pink fiberglass cast on her right arm. A single tear breached the dam of her lower lid and slid down her face. She swiped at it and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. She couldn’t stop the tremble in her lips no matter how hard she pressed them together.

So close!

Karlee lay relaxed, her arm in the cast resting on the white hospital blanket, her scraped face slightly turned in to her pillow.

So close!

Celia forced herself to take deep, quiet breaths and turned her face to the window. The last thing she wanted was to frighten eight-year-old Jessica again.

“Mommy, it’s okay. She’s going to be all right.” A small arm slid over Celia’s shoulders, and a gentle hand patted her back. “The doctor said so.”

Celia nodded and turned to Jess who stood beside her chair. The girl’s light brown hair hung straight to the center of her back and was riddled with enough knots to give both of them a headache tomorrow when it was time to brush them out. Celia kissed her older daughter’s cheek.

“I know she’ll be fine, sweetie. She’s just so little, and every once in a while it hits me how close we came to losing her.” She rested her head on Jess’s fragile shoulder and drew comfort as Jess leaned her head to rest on Celia’s hair.

“I love you, Jess,” she whispered, her voice catching.

“I love you, Mommy. And I love Karlee.”

Jess’s voice broke on her sister’s name, and she began to cry in great, gasping sobs that came from deep in her chest. Celia wrapped her arms around her older daughter and pulled her into her lap.

“Shush, baby. Shush. You mustn’t cry. It’s like you said. Karlee’s going to be fine.”

“I kn-kn-know,” Jess hiccupped. She wrapped her arms around Celia’s waist and burrowed her face in Celia’s breast. Her slim shoulders were tense, and Celia could feel her distress.

She made little circles on Jess’s back, remembering to be easy with the pressure. Jess wasn’t a client at the spa looking for a deep massage. “Isn’t it funny how we sometimes feel worse when the emergency is over? You’d think we’d feel better.”

Jess took a deep, jagged breath. “I yelled at her last night, Mommy. I told her she was a baby, and I didn’t want her around me ever again.”

Celia smiled sadly. Poor Jess, awash in guilt. How Celia understood. “You didn’t mean it, honey.”

“I did then.”

“You thought you did then, but you didn’t really. You’re too wonderful a girl to ever want anything bad to happen to a person, especially your sister.”

Jess sighed. “She gets in my things all the time and messes up my Barbies. I hate it when she does that, but I know it’s because she’s little. She’s only four.”

“She loves your Barbies.”

“She has her own.”

Celia heard the proprietary steel in Jess’s voice. Apparently guilt went only so far. “But she can’t make her dolls as pretty as you make yours.”

Jess nodded. “Of course she can’t. I’m eight.” And that said it all. “I had all my Barbies dressed up for a fashion show. I fixed their
hair with barrettes and bows and flowers and everything, and they were wearing their best clothes.” She turned in Celia’s arms until she was looking at her sleeping sister.
“She
combed all their hair.”

Celia bit back her grin. She’d seen Karlee’s idea of combing a doll’s hair many times. Halloween fright wigs looked good in comparison.

“She gets into your things and plays with them because they’re yours, and she wants to be like you. She thinks you’re wonderful.”

“I’m terrible,” Jess whispered, renewed tears in her voice.

“No, honey, not at all. People get mad at each other all the time. What makes us a loving family is that we don’t stay mad. We forgive each other, and we love each other.”

Jess was silent for a minute, thinking about her mother’s words. “Is that why Daddy left?”

Celia blinked. “What?” Had this new catastrophe somehow brought the old one to Jess’s mind? She hadn’t talked about Eddie for months.

“Did Daddy leave because he stayed mad?” Jess’s voice was small and desperate. “Did he stay mad at something I did?”

Celia hugged her daughter and kissed her on the top of her head. Had the girl been carrying this worry and guilt inside for years and only now had the courage to voice it? “Daddy stayed mad all right, sweetie, but not at anything you did.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“But he told me I was stupid and couldn’t do anything right.”

Celia wished Eddie were here right now so she could scorch him with her X-ray vision. Saying such a thing to a child, any child, but especially to your own daughter, was criminal. What had she ever seen in that thoughtless—She stopped and took a deep breath. She counted to ten, reminding herself that not only didn’t she say words like that anymore; she didn’t even think them.

“He was wrong about you, Jess.” Celia put as much authority in her voice as she could. “You are very smart, and you did not do anything that made him leave.” Except maybe be alive, Celia thought. But then, the same could be said of her.

“Then was he mad at something Karlee did?”

“No, not at all.” Celia stared at the wall over Jess’s head and forced out what was regrettably a lie. “He loved you girls both very much.”

Jess was silent, and Celia knew she wasn’t buying it. She couldn’t blame the little girl. Eddie had made it clear that he resented his daughters. Of course he resented the whole world, but that didn’t ease a daughter’s pain when her daddy told her he didn’t like her.

“Then was he mad at you?” Jess asked in a small voice.

Celia sighed. How much of Eddie’s ranting and raving had Jess heard? “Mad at me?” If only it were that simple. “It’s very sad, honey, but Daddy got mad at everything and everybody. Me. His boss. His parents. Life. Everything except you and Karlee.”

Jess sat up and blinked at Celia. Her mouth was a little round O of astonishment. “Was he even mad at God?”

Celia looked at her daughter’s huge, brown eyes, so like her father’s down to the gold flecks that swam in the irises and the thick lashes that shadowed them. This older daughter of his had his wonderful facial features miniaturized and feminized, and Celia had no doubt that she would one day be a stunner, just like Eddie.

But please, God, not his deceitful heart. Not his duplicity and weaknesses
.

Even thinking about Eddie saddened her, not as much because of the loss of her marriage as because without a backward look, he threw away the very best and didn’t even realize it. “He’s mad even at God,” Celia agreed.

“That’s sad, Mommy.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Because God loves him. And so does Jesus.”

Celia and Jessica sat in silence for a few minutes. They had been in Karlee’s hospital room for several hours now, watching, weeping, thanking God. There was no extended family to come see them, to surround them with love and concern. There were just the three of them, interrupted once in a while by the nurse who came in to check Karlee for potential concussion.

“I’d like to talk to the doctor who cared for Karlee,” Celia had told the nurse several hours ago. There were questions to ask and answers to get.

“Of course you do,” she had answered. “The orthopedist who
set Karlee’s arm is gone for the weekend, but Dr. Schofield will be in later tonight. He’ll have Karlee’s complete file and will answer any questions you have.”

Celia thought of the very handsome pediatrician they had visited soon after their move to Seaside to sign up the girls as his patients. Money might be tight, but the girls would never suffer medically if Celia had anything to say about it, and her boss had given Dr. Schofield high marks indeed. “He comes in on a Friday night?”

“He frequently comes in late at night.” The nurse’s voice was reverent. “He cares about his patients.”

A knock at the door made Celia turn her head in surprise. “Come in.” Maybe Dr. Schofield was here already.

No, it was Paul Trevelyan, the young pastor of Seaside Chapel. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that read Seaside Beach Patrol across the chest.

“Pastor Paul.” Celia knew her jaw must be hanging open. She set Jess down and scrambled to her feet to shake his hand. “How did you know we were here?”

“I have my sources,” he said, smiling. He walked to the side of the bed and looked down at Karlee. “How is she?”

“She’s a bit banged up and has a broken arm, but the angels must have been working overtime protecting her.” Her voice broke, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. “She’ll be fine in no time.”

He nodded. “I’m so glad.” He reached out and ran a gentle hand over Karlee’s hair.

Celia smiled. It felt good to have another adult concerned about Karlee, rejoicing that she would be all right. Sometimes, in spite of the girls, she felt so very lonely.

She and the girls had moved to Seaside almost two months ago, and they had gone to Seaside Chapel since the first Sunday. All three of them liked the warm atmosphere and the informality of a shore resort church combined with a sincere reverence for the God they were worshiping. As an added bonus, the girls loved their Bible school teachers too.

But that Pastor Paul had come to the hospital for them—well, it was almost more than she could take in. People didn’t do nice things for her.

“She’s four, isn’t she?” Pastor Paul asked Jess.

“Last week,” Jess answered. “Tuesday. When Mommy came home from work, we had a party with hats and streamers and a cake and all.”

“Sounds like you had fun,” the pastor said. “When’s your birthday?”

Jess made a face. “Not until December.”

He nodded with understanding. “It’s not too close to Christmas, is it?”

“It’s December 2. It’s early enough that I get presents both times.”

He winked. “Good.” He turned his attention to Celia. “I wanted to let you know that you’re not alone even though you’re new in town. Karlee’s name has been put on the church prayer list, and even now she’s being prayed for.”

Tears rose in Celia’s eyes again, but these were tears of gratitude. She’d felt so alone for so long that it was almost beyond understanding that people cared. When Pastor Paul laid his hand on Karlee’s forehead and prayed for her rapid recovery, Celia had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing aloud.
Thank You, God. Thank You, God
.

When the pastor left after a ten-minute visit, Jess climbed back onto Celia’s lap. “He’s nice.”

“Mmm. Very nice.”

“I’m glad we go to his church.”

“Me too. Now why don’t you close those beautiful brown eyes of yours and get some sleep? Tomorrow I imagine Karlee’s going to hate lying in bed, and you’re going to have to help me entertain her.”

“I can entertain her alone when you go to work,” Jess said. “There’s adults here to watch over us.”

“I’m not going to work, honey.”

Jess straightened and looked into her mother’s face. “Did Pinky give you the day off?”

“Not exactly.” In fact Saturday was one of their busiest days at the spa. “But I can’t leave Karlee. The doctor’ll probably tell us she can go home, and we’ve got to be ready to pick her up when we get the word.”

Jess nodded, but she looked apprehensive. Celia hated that their financial situation was so precarious that her children worried. She sighed. She couldn’t afford to lose this job at Seaside Spa. It was literally a matter of the family’s survival. But what could she do? Her baby needed her.

Celia kissed the tip of Jess’s nose. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll work it out. God will work it out.”

Please, God, don’t let that be a lie. I need You
.

Jess looked unconvinced, but she settled back in Celia’s arms. Celia felt her relax, and soon a gentle snuffling indicated the child slept. Celia laid her head against the back of the chair, no longer able to keep herself from the anxiety that had been pressing on her. Sometimes she felt like the soft half of a piece of Velcro, and worry was the prickly piece that glommed on and stuck tight. She wanted to trust the Lord, but worrying was so much easier!

What would Pinky say when she didn’t come to work tomorrow? She was still in her three-month probationary period, though she knew her boss liked her work. And so she should. Celia was one of the best massage therapists going. She’d graduated from school at the top of her class in spite of all the chaos in her life. She had good hands and a sixth sense about her work. Clients requested her more than any other of Pinky’s therapists.

But a boss didn’t care how good you were if you didn’t come to work.

Once again the guilt of being a working mother with long hours cut at her. If she’d been home, Karlee wouldn’t have been going to the store. She wouldn’t have been at that intersection, crossing that street, getting hit by that car.

But she hadn’t been home. She’s been at the spa working on a man who had wrenched his back trying to surf. That a man as out of shape as he was had expected to stand on a surfboard still stunned her. She didn’t quite know why she was so surprised. Men did all kinds of foolish things in the name of sport. One of her jobs was to try to put them back together, or at the very least, relieve some of their pain.

So she’d been pummeling the sore muscles of an overweight, out of shape, middle-aged man while her baby got hit by a car.

She took a deep breath, a difficult thing to do with the heavy weight pressing on her conscience. It didn’t matter how much she told herself she had no choice—and she didn’t; she knew she didn’t—she still hated leaving Jess and Karlee with a baby-sitter. This one had proven so undependable. The foolish woman had let a four-year-old go to the store alone.