Stardust Miracle (18 page)

If Jesus could come back from the dead, why not Marsh? After all, Marsh had a family. Fathers...the good ones...shouldn’t be taken from their children.

She reached the first floor and turned toward the puppy room. Moved one foot in front of the other.

But if Marsh weren’t the miracle...

She put her hand over her stomach – over her womb – stopped and looked at the ceiling. “Please,” she said. “Please.”

And then the animals called her, making squeaks, high-pitched barks and meows, and she went to take care of them.

Life went on, even after it seemed to stop.

As she let Goldie outside a moment later, the phone rang. She hurried over to it, looked at the caller’s name and backed away. It rang again, and she answered it this time because if she didn’t, it would disturb Sarah.

Chapter Twenty-seven

“How’s Sarah?” her father demanded, his voice gruff as if he were talking to an employee, letting her know he hadn’t forgiven her for defying him.

Today she didn’t care. 

She breathed in, her chest expanded. Not caring empowered her. “She’s in bed.” 

“You need to get her up to take care of her son. That’s what I did—”

“Cody’s at a sleepover at a neighbor’s. We thought it better to leave him there overnight. Sarah will tell him later this morning. If you don’t mind, I have things to do.”

She hung up because she realized she was getting angry in spite of the not caring thing. Maybe she was having delusions...seeing sparkles and ghosts. But he seemed to have forgotten that when her mother died, he’d left her to tell Sarah while he talked to everyone else but them.

Her hands shook and she took deep breaths. She didn’t want this drama today. Didn’t want the extra tension. If her father were a decent human, he’d stay away from her and Sarah.

After all, he’d stayed away emotionally most of their lives. Why ruin that record now?

She turned away. Whatever happened, she and Sarah would handle it when it came up. No need to invent catastrophes where there weren’t any. Nothing could be worse for Sarah than Marsh’s death.

Unless something happened to Cody.

But Cody was fine. Sarah still had her boy. And in four months, she would have another child.

The phone rang again. This time the name on the display was a neighbor’s. Becky wished she could leave it go to voice mail, but once again, she picked it up to avoid waking Sarah. She talked for a few moments, told the neighbor no arrangements were made yet, that Sarah was asleep. When she hung up, she barely took two steps from the phone before it rang again. And again and again and again.

The sixth call was from Linda Wegner. After that, there was one more concerned caller before the phone stopped ringing. No miracle there. For the first time, Becky appreciated Linda’s big mouth. Linda must have gotten the word out that Sarah wasn’t ready to talk.

Finally Becky had time to feed Goldie and the puppies. The puppies were being weaned, though they weren’t self-sufficient yet. Becky fed the kitten in the kitchen. The kitten was a few weeks older than the newborn puppies, and they had to keep her food from the puppies or they might eat it and get sick.

These animals were work.

After that, she was about to clean in the puppy room, but the black puppy nudged her ankle, letting her know it wanted to be cuddled.

“I’m spoiling you, aren’t I?” Ready for a break, Becky picked up the puppy and sat in the dining room chair, settling the puppy on her lap. She wanted to name it, but if she did that she’d end up keeping it. The only way that could happen would be if a miracle happened.

But if she could wish for a miracle...

She bent her back and kissed the puppy’s smooth head. “If there could be a miracle right now, this second, I’d wish Marsh would be here. Alive and well. Saying it was some kind of macabre joke. And if that won’t happen, I wish you could be changed into a human baby.”

The puppy licked her hand then wiggled, ready to go back to his playmates. Happy to be alive. Happy to be a puppy.

Becky laughed softly. For the moment fully relaxed, fully alive. Still sitting in the chair, she leaned forward and set him on the floor. Sitting back, she watched him run to the other puppies.

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to be human. I’d much rather be a puppy, too. I’d play, eat, drink, pee and poop all day. Lie in the sun and take walks. Then pee and poop again...and take another nap.”

The black dog was wrestling with one of his brothers. Another puppy was rolling on its back, all four paws dancing in the air. Two others were sleeping.

The kitten was on top of the dining room table. Already nimble. It would probably start leaping over the barrier soon.

A puppy started heaving. She grimaced. Any moment...

The other puppies all stopped what they were doing to watch.
Reality Puppy TV
.

Yep, there it came, out of the puppy’s mouth and onto the blanket. The dining room filling up with the sour scent.

She grimaced. “Another puppy bonus. You can throw up and someone else will clean up after you. In fact, you never have to clean anything.” Like Jim and her father, she thought, but didn’t want to dwell on that – though she wondered fleetingly who was cleaning up after Jim now. “Never have to pay bills. Or clean toilets. Or do taxes.”

“Or shave legs,” Sarah said from the hall. “I hate shaving my legs.”

“Then don’t.” Becky stood. “I didn’t hear you come down.”

“The dog was probably getting ready to puke then. Something about that pre-puking sound takes all our attention.”

“It’s because we know we have to clean it up.” Becky walked to the barrier and climbed over it.

“I’ll clean.” Sarah put her hand on Becky’s shoulder. “I’m okay now. As soon as I’m done, I’ll call Joy and tell her to bring Cody over.”

Becky took a good look at Sarah. Except for the reddened eyes and the bags beneath them, she looked almost normal. But her spark was gone. Her zest. As if she lost a chunk of her soul.

Or the love of her life.

“You call Joy,” Becky said. “I’ll clean.”

Sarah peered past her, at the puppies, her eyes unfocused, her mind far away. Then she gave a sad smile. “Neither of us needs to pick up the puppy puke. It’s taken care of.”

“Huh?” Becky whipped her head around and saw the puke was gone. “How did—”

“Goldie. Don’t look so disgusted.” Sarah climbed over the barrier into the puppy room, not clumsy despite her burgeoning tummy. “That’s what dogs do. I’m sorry your date was ruined last night.”

“Don’t apologize.” Becky held up her hand to stop the stubbornness that was making Sarah’s jaw stick out like their father’s. “Just don’t.”

Sarah gave a shaky laugh, her jawline now her own. A puppy barreled into her ankle and she leaned down, scooped it up then held it against her breast. The puppy craned its head up and licked her chin. She smiled down at the puppy before looking at Becky. “I was hoping you’d get lucky and now it didn’t happen.”

Becky put her head down and turned to the kitchen. “There should be something I can do. Just tell me.”

“No, there’s nothing— Ouch!”

Becky turned back and saw Sarah set the puppy back on the floor. Sarah straightened, a red mark on her chin – probably from the puppy’s teeth – but a smile dawning on her face. “You did it, didn’t you?”

Chapter Twenty-eight

The question stunned Becky. She couldn’t talk about
this
. It was tacky enough she’d done it with Trey only hours after Marsh’s death. But to confide the details to Sarah... She made a face and shook her head.

“You don’t want to talk about what Trey and I did.”

Sarah’s face tightened. Anguish seeped the color from her face, and she looked sick with desolation. “Don’t tiptoe around me. Just don’t.”

“Sarah, there’s just no way you’re ready for this now.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m ready for.” Sarah’s voice rose with the last word. The atmosphere in the hall between the kitchen and the dining room thickened.

“Honey, I just know that if I were you—”

“You’d what? Suddenly become Mother Teresa? Become untouchable? Sit atop a mountain and pray?”

“No, I don’t know what I’d want to do.”

“Then let me tell you,” Sarah said, her voice harsh and sharp at the same time. “I want to crawl into a grave with Marsh and hold his dead body. Is that what you want to hear?”

Becky kept herself from showing her revulsion, but couldn’t stop from pulling back. 

On Sarah’s face, she saw the flash of anger. “Don’t expect me to be
that
person.” Sarah spoke low, through her teeth. 

“What person?” Becky held out her hands. She didn’t want to make this worse for Sarah, but obviously that’s what she was doing. All her years as the counselor to her almost ex-husband’s parishioners were failing her now when it mattered most. 

“The kind who goes into a nun’s silence. I don’t have the luxury to shut down. I have a kid. I’m not going to be like Dad and ignore him.”

“Oh God, no.” Becky rocked forward on her toes then back on her heels.

“When Mom died...” Sarah stopped sniffing as tears coursed down her cheeks. “You kept going. You didn’t crawl into a closet and lock yourself in.”

Becky tried to talk but couldn’t. Tears got in her way. She swallowed them, but some escaped. In fact, a flood of them traveled down her cheeks, her chin, her throat, into the V-neckline of her top. 

“You’re my hero,” Sarah said.

Becky’s tears dripped faster. She hurried into the kitchen, toward the box of tissues next to the microwave. She grabbed a couple, blew her nose hard, then reached to grab another one. Her fingers collided with Sarah’s and she had to wait for Sarah to pull one away before taking another.

They both blew their noses gustily at the same time.

“I had to be there for you,” Becky said. “I cried myself to sleep at night for a long, long time.”

Sarah nodded. Not saying she’d do the same for Marsh. Not needing to say it.

“I still mourn Mom,” Becky continued, her voice rough. “I don’t think I ever got over it.”

“Because you didn’t mourn? Because you couldn’t?” 

Becky frowned. “I missed her because I loved her.” Her voice broke. “I still do.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over Marsh.” Sarah stared down at her hand with the thin gold wedding band. “I’ll be ninety years old and miss him.”

“Yeah.” Becky frowned at Sarah’s hand, too. And wished there was something she could do. Something that would help Sarah...

But Sarah had only asked one thing. She wanted to know what she and Trey did last night. And Becky had said ‘no.’ Thinking she knew everything. Just as her dad and Jim had thought when they told Becky how to live her life.

“Yes,” she said, lifting her gaze. “Yes, we did it.” 

Sarah’s head tilted up at Becky, two lines between her eyebrows as if she didn’t know what Becky was talking about.

Becky took three steps to the table and sat down. She needed something solid beneath her butt when she said this. “You asked if Trey and I did it. Yes, we did do it. We had sex.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped, her eyes widened. Trading sad for stunned. As if Becky had broken a water balloon on her head.

“I feel guilty about it,” Becky continued, “but it was after you went to bed with the sleeping pill.”

Sarah blinked. Her lips pressed together. Becky cringed inside. How to handle this was not in the chapter on counseling she’d read. Not that it said ‘Don’t talk about your sex life to a bereaved person’ in any of the books. It was just assumed that the counselor had more sense.

“I
knew
I shouldn’t have told you.” Becky started to get up.

A hand clapped onto her shoulder and pushed her back down. Sarah sat across from her. “I want to hear about it. All about it.”

“I’m not good at talking about sex.”

“Just answer me. He’s better than Jim, right?”

“Like I said before, Jim really liked getting blow jobs.” Becky made a face. “I’m thinking of sending Diana a thank you email.”

Sarah laughed outright. The kind of laugh where, if she had coffee in her mouth, it would’ve spewed out. “You should. I’d love to see it.”

“And maybe I should Cc the church members.”

Sarah gave a shriek of laughter, but it had an edge of hysteria. As if tears weren’t far away. “Jim is a selfish asshole. Let the whole world know.”

“I see that now.” Becky swallowed a lump in her throat. This conversation was bringing to life the hollow place inside her. But if it helped Sarah get through the day... “I don’t know why I stayed with him so long. They say the wife has to
know
all along, but I didn’t have a clue. I didn’t think he was that...well, passionate. I just knew there was something missing...”

“Decency?” Sarah suggested.

Becky shrugged. “On the surface Jim seems perfect. But it’s all just surface. Underneath that surface, he’s...”

“Rotten?” Sarah suggested.

“Inauthentic. I felt like an actor in a show he’d made up. Like I was living in a sitcom, pretending to be this perfect minister’s wife – only I wasn’t as good an actor as he was. That’s why so many of the congregation didn’t rally around me.”

“Fuck them.”

“They don’t want the truth. They want to believe in a
Leave It to Beaver
world that Jim and Dad represent. Even though there never was a real world like that. But I lived it with him.” She looked up at Sarah, astonished that Sarah was comforting her when it should’ve been the other way around. “I was purposefully blind. I didn’t want to see what he was.”

“You were indoctrinated to serve.” The sadness streamed back into Sarah’s face. The grief. “Daddy did that to you.”

Becky nodded, an ache clogging her throat. And her heart. But she knew her ache was tiny compared to the one in Sarah’s heart right now. Then Becky said out loud what she suspected Sarah had already thought. “I wish it were Jim instead of Marsh.”

Sarah’s face crumbled. “Or Daddy. I shouldn’t say that. I’m an awful daughter. I’m an awful person. I’m a bitch. A selfish bitch.”