The Healing Quilt (14 page)

As dinnertime approached, Mike started feeling kind of shaky again. After returning from the quilt class, he’d spent the afternoon working in the yard and hadn’t taken time to eat lunch. A few times he’d had to stop when fatigue overtook him.

“Big mistake for not eating sooner,” Mike muttered, reaching for a jar of peanut butter from the refrigerator. Since he didn’t have the energy to cook anything tonight, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would have to suffice. It was something he could make quickly and get into his stomach, which was growling loudly.

Mike got out the bread and slathered peanut butter on one piece and jelly on the other. Then he poured himself a glass of milk and took a seat at the table. He’d just taken his first bite, when the telephone rang.

“Oh great,” he mumbled. “It’s probably some irritating advertising call. Those always seem to come in around dinnertime.” Mike was tempted to ignore it, but on the chance that it might be his wife, he left the table and went to check the caller ID. Sure enough, it was Phyllis.

“Hi, hon,” he said, mouth still full of sandwich.

“Did I catch you in the middle of supper?” Phyllis asked.

“Not so much.” He moved back to the table and took a drink of milk. “Just having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“That’s all you’re eating for supper?”

“Yeah, but it fills the hole.” Mike took another drink and gulped it down, looking out the window toward the bay.

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like your usual self tonight.”

“Naw, I’m fine. Just tired is all. Guess I overdid it doing yard work today.” Mike reached for the sandwich and took a bite. His shakiness had subsided some, but he still felt kind of weak. No way was he going to tell Phyllis that, though. She’d be torn between coming home to look after him and taking care of her sister.

“How’d the quilt class go today?” she asked.

“Fine. How’s Penny doing?”

“Okay, but she’s not ready to be on her own yet. She really appreciates me being here, especially with the snowstorm we’re having right now. I think it’s a blizzard, actually.” Phyllis paused briefly. “I’m glad Penny has a generator. So many people here are without power, but Penny’s prepared for something like this.” She laughed lightly. “My big sis always did have a good head on her shoulders.”

“I hope you two stay put and don’t go anywhere. You’re not used to driving in the snow—especially with someone else’s vehicle,” Mike said with concern. “Sure wish I was there with you right now.”

“We’re managing okay. The weather station’s been warning people about this blizzard for a few days, so I went out and got some extra groceries the other day,” Phyllis said. “Penny doesn’t live far from the store, and I truly think everyone goes there just for the bread and milk. There was hardly any left in the store when I got there. Anyhow, Mike, I’m glad I thought to bring along some warmer clothes for this trip.” She laughed. “I’d feel like a Popsicle if I’d only brought shorts and sandals.”

“Guess people prepare for a snowstorm a little differently than when we get ready for a hurricane. At least up north, they don’t have to board up the house or move inland,” Mike said.

“You’re right about that. It’s sort of exciting to see all this snow, but at the same time, I really miss you and can’t wait to get home. I’m starting to forget what that warm sunshine feels like, and I sure miss smelling the ocean breeze.”

“I’ll take our warm winters over those frigid ones any day.” Mike grabbed a napkin and swiped at the sweat on his forehead. Even though he’d eaten half the sandwich, he still didn’t feel right. His skin felt clammy. Now, along with everything else, the area around his mouth tingled a bit.
What in the world is going on with me?
Mike wondered. What he really wanted to do was head to the living room and lie down on the couch.

“Mike, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, what was that?”

“I was wondering if you’ve heard anything about your boat yet.”

“Nope, nothing recently, but the last time I checked I was told it would be a few more weeks.” He took a seat at the table.

“I’ll let you go so you can finish your sandwich. I’ll call again in a few days.”

Mike said good-bye to Phyllis and grabbed the other half of his sandwich.
Maybe come Monday morning I will call the doctor
, he decided.
It doesn’t make sense the way I’ve been feeling today, and I really would like to know if there’s something seriously wrong
.

“How’d your day go, sweetie?” Kyle asked as he and Erika sat at the kitchen table, eating the pepperoni pizza he’d brought home for supper. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but it was quick and easy. Besides, it was Erika’s favorite kind of pizza.

“My day was the same as usual,” she mumbled around a piece. “How was yours?”

“Exhausting.” He reached for his glass of water. “Never had so many emergencies all in one day.”

“Accidents or kids who are sick?” she asked.

“Both.”

Erika grunted. “Life stinks, and folks just need to get used to it. I’d hate to be a doctor and see people hurting all the time.”

I watch you hurting
, he thought.
Sometimes that’s worse than anything I see at the hospital, Erika. I’d give anything if I could give you back the ability to walk
.

“How’d the quilt class go today?” Kyle asked, feeling the need to change the subject before he gave in to the blame game again.

“Well, it wasn’t quite as boring as the week before.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“A gecko got into the Millers’ house and gave a couple of people a merry chase.” Erika reached for her glass of lemonade. “Oh, and one of the women had to drop out of the class to take care of her sister who has a broken leg, so her husband took her place.”

“That was nice of him.”

Erika wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think he really wanted to be there, and he especially wasn’t having fun when he almost passed out.”

Kyle’s eyebrows lifted. “What brought that about?”

Erika shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he seemed to feel better after he ate some of Emma’s coffee cake. I told him I thought he should see a doctor, ’cause he could have low blood sugar.”

“That’s possible, but of course, it could have been something else causing his symptoms. I’m glad you suggested he see a doctor, though. That was good thinking on your part.”

“I’m not stupid, Dad.”

His face heated. “Never said you were. Why do you always have to get so defensive, Erika?”

“I’m not. And why do you always treat me like a baby?”

Because you act like one sometimes
. Of course, Kyle didn’t voice his thoughts. Erika would have really gotten defensive.

“Let’s not argue,” Kyle said, reaching for another slice of pizza. “I don’t have the energy to spar with you tonight.”

Her lips compressed, but she made no comment. Kyle was beginning to think he would never get through to his daughter. He could only hope and pray that someone else could.

As B.J. sat on the porch of the bungalow he’d rented, watching the waves lap against the shore, he reflected on the debilitating fatigue he often felt, and wondered if his cancer had worsened. He remembered his doctor back home telling him that if he wasn’t going to continue his treatments, then he needed to get his affairs in order and try to enjoy whatever time he had left.

And that’s just what I’m doing
, B.J. thought. Since he’d come to Sarasota, he’d developed a more positive outlook than when he’d been diagnosed with cancer. Maybe it was because the warm sunshine felt so good. Or it could be a renewed interest in his artwork since he’d begun taking the quilting classes. Either way, B.J. was living life the way he wanted, and by learning how to quilt, he hoped to hand down something special to his granddaughter when he left this old earth.

B.J.’s thoughts turned to his friend Sam Murphy, whom he’d met at the oncologist’s office during one of his appointments. He’d talked to Sam on the phone last night and learned that Sam’s cancer was getting worse. Sam sounded as though he’d given up when he told B.J. that his doctor had said he probably had about three or four months to live.

“Why do well-meaning doctors think they have to tell their patients how long it will be till they kick off?” B.J. muttered after taking a sip of his iced tea. He just wanted to live each day to the fullest, and not think about what lay ahead. After all, everyone had to die sometime—some sooner than others.

B.J. pulled out his hanky and blotted a splotch of tea that had dribbled out of his glass and landed on the front of his shirt.
If God wanted us to know the exact day of our death, He would have had it written on our birth certificate or something
.

A seagull screeched overhead—
reep, reep, reep
—and B.J. lifted his gaze upward, watching as the noisy bird flittered around, chasing another gull. When the gulls flew out above the water, B.J.’s thoughts turned to his friend again.

Sam had mentioned how supportive his family had been since hearing of his diagnosis. He said he didn’t think he could make it without their encouragement. Sam’s daughter had even told him that being there to help him was the least she could do for all the sacrifices he’d made during her childhood. She counted it a privilege to be there for him.

It might be a privilege for Sam’s daughter
, B.J, thought,
but maybe she’s not as busy as my daughters are. They both have their own lives to live, and there is no way I’m going to get in the way of that. I don’t want anyone feeling obligated to take care of me
.

He reached for his glass and took one final drink.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and die in my sleep; then I won’t have to worry about this any longer. That would solve the nasty little problem for everyone
.

N
oreen yawned and pulled the pillow over her head, hoping to drown out the sound of the neighbor’s yappy dog. But the terrier kept barking, and the pillow did little to diffuse the irritating sound. Ever since her neighbor had purchased the puppy last week, Noreen had begun to lose sleep. That dog’s yipping had probably scared every bird away, too.

Despite Noreen’s irritation, she felt sorry for the mutt. It was a cute little pup, not much bigger than a rabbit. Didn’t those neighbors know they shouldn’t leave an animal that young alone in the yard? What if it found a way under the fence and ventured off their property? If the dog got out, it could get hit by a car or someone might steal it. Worse yet, what if an alligator got it? Noreen shivered, remembering the Millers’ incident with the gator.

I may have to approach those people if their dog continues to bark and whine all the time
, Noreen told herself. She didn’t know the middle-aged couple on that side of her house very well, but she hoped they were reasonable people and would see the importance of keeping their puppy safe, even if they weren’t concerned about the dog’s barking.

With an exasperated sigh, she threw the covers aside and crawled out of bed. Stopping in front of her dresser to look at herself in the mirror, she frowned. Today was Tuesday, and it had been three days since she’d colored her hair. In spite of several washings, it was still just as dark as it had been on Saturday.

Self-conscious about the way she looked Noreen had skipped church Sunday morning and remained in her house all day yesterday, too. She certainly couldn’t keep hiding from the world, however. Noreen liked to keep busy and enjoyed her freedom to go someplace whenever she felt like it.

Unless I plan to stay here indefinitely, guess I’d better find an appropriate hat or scarf to cover my head
.

Noreen thought about Emma Miller and the stiff white head covering she wore.
If I had a hat like that to wear, I could sprinkle a little cornstarch in the front of my hair, to resemble the gray that used to be there, and no one would be any the wiser
.

She chuckled, her dour mood briefly dispelled as she pictured what she would look like wearing an Amish woman’s hat.
I’d have to find an Amish dress to wear, too, or I’d really look ridiculous
.