The Healing Quilt (46 page)

Teza took her hats to the hall mirror and tried them all on again. “What a wonderful idea. I thought I'd go buy a wig but maybe not. These are”—she held her palms against her cheeks—“just too much. Thank you all.”

“You are most welcome.” Elaine sat back down from giving Teza a hug and turned to Beth. “Hats are something you could sew. Let the oncology department know so they could send their clients to you. You could have some on display and take orders.” She stopped. “You did tell your husband about the business idea.”

Beth nodded. “And he thought it would be a good thing. This would make it even better.”

“If you'd like to put them on consignment at the hospital gift shop, I'm sure that could be arranged too.”

“Thank you.” Beth reached down in her bag and brought up business cards. “Garth helped me with these last night.” She passed them both directions. “And everyone take two at least.” She tipped her head in Elaine's direction. “She said to do it that way, remember?”

Needles flew for a time as they teased Sue about sewing a fidi wardrobe for Kelly, discussed plans for Labor Day, talked about the progress on all the other programs for earning money for the mam-mogram unit and other news about town.

When they'd finished lunch, Beth stood in front of Kit's family picture wall and, to Kit, asked, “When will Mark be home again?”

Kit felt as though she'd been jabbed with an ice pick, the pain slicing straight to her heart. “1… I dont know.”

“What does he do?”

“He's a computer consultant for a firm out of Tacoma.” Kit looked to Sue for help, but she half shrugged, half shook her head. No help there. And Teza looked about done in.

“Shame you can't travel with him.” Beth followed the others over to the waiting frame.

Kit looked up in time to catch a laser gaze from Elaine.
Please, ignore her.

“Your husband did some consulting for the hospital a couple of years ago, didn't he?” Elaine glanced up from her stitching.

Kit nodded.

“Shame he can't get more work locally.”

“It is. Mark is so good at what he does, but then he's good at fixing or building most anything.” Teza smiled at Kit. “He built the most perfect window boxes. I planted annuals in them and sold them as fast as we could put them out.”

“I have two. Change the plants each year. I love them, hanging on the railing around my deck.” Sue blinked and squinted to thread the needle. “I think they're making the eyes even smaller on these things.”

“I could use some planter boxes like that.” Elaine looked back to Kit. “You think he would build me some?”

Kit took a deep breath. “If I had any idea when Mark was coming home, I'd tell him, but I don't. He's been gone since January, and I really don't even know exactly where he is.”

“Sad man on the run from God?”

“Well put, Elsie Mae. Most likely from God and all the things here he said he could no longer handle.”

“Like grieving for Amber?” Beth spoke softly.

“And all the memories here. You can't really get away from them, but then I don't want to.”

“You mean to say he left you all by yourself to grieve alone?” Elaine's question was rhetorical. “And you want him to come back?”

Kit nodded.

“I say send him packing. Ship him his things, and if and when he grows up, he can ask to begin all over again.” Elaine glared at her needle rocking in the quilt layers to form another stitch. “The nerve of him. So many of them do that to us, leave us alone to take care of all the stuff that comes along. It's just not fair. Why do
you…we
put up with it?”

“You, too?” Elsie Mae raised an eyebrow.

“No. I mean, I— We were talking about Mark.” Elaine let her hands fall in her lap. “Well, George has never left home. He's just married to the hospital.”

“And would you throw him out?” Elsie Mae raised an eyebrow.

“The thought has crossed my mind at times.”

“Mine, too, but then I think, give him time to come to his senses or work through the grief or whatever he needs.” Kit sighed. “My marriage vows said for better or worse, in sickness and in health. We've had some of each…”

“But you had them together—up until now?” Elsie Mae nodded, the small kind of nod that encouraged Kit to dig deeper into her thoughts, memories where she so often feared to venture.

“Pretty much. I mean he was gone when Ryan broke his arm and through some of Amber's treatments, but he can't handle needles and… ”

“And they call us the weaker sex.” Elaine threw herself back in her chair, arms dangling, eyes glaring at the ceiling. A chuckle that leaped the spaces between them made it around the frame.

“So,” Elsie Mae continued, “does Mark know about Teza?”

“Yes, we e-mail and he calls sometimes. He talks with Ryan and Jennifer. He sent me flowers with a card.”

“And you know there's no one else in his life?” Elaine leaned on one elbow and stroked her chin between thumb and forefinger.

Kit closed her
eyes
against the ice pick again. “I hope not.”

“But it has crossed your mind.”

“Hasn't it yours when George is late coming home and leaves again on an emergency and…” Kit banked the fire before it flared beyond control.
Why is she pushing me like this?

“And yes, I've thought ofthat. But in a town this small, I'd have to be awfully dumb not to find out about it. And if he did have an affair, he'd be in the divorce court faster than he could don surgical scrubs.”

“Maybe I needed some breathing room too. How could I help Mark when I was bleeding all over the place?”
The tears that erupted for no reason or at any reason. Sleepless nights. Anger that would flare at some of the stupidest things.
“It's been two years now, and while I've adjusted somewhat, I…” Kit grabbed for a tissue and blew her nose.

“You need the other half of yourself holding you up.” Elsie Mae stood and came around behind Kit. “Lord in heaven, Kit here is hurting so bad.”

“That's part of it!” She hunched her shoulders forward as if to get away from the calming hands. “Why do I want to pray to a God who took my daughter? He could have healed her, but he didn't. I've been asking why for two years now, and it still makes no sense whatsoever.”

Beth knelt on the floor and put her arms around Kits waist. “You've helped us, now let us help you.”

“I never thought my life would be like this, ripped up, torn apart. And yet, no matter how far or fast I try to run away, I know God is there. But sometimes I hate him for what he didn't do. What kind of a Christian am I to hate God?”

“Funny who he brought to this group.” Elsie Mae looked to each of the women as she thought out loud. “Beth who couldn't forgive herself, and here's you who can't forgive God. And if I'm reading her right, Elaine can't forgive folks around her.”

“Why should I forgive her, she's the one who's done all the rotten things?” Elaine glared at Elsie Mae as though she was dropping stitches as she sewed.

“The letters,” Beth whispered. “Please write the letters. I know it helps.”

“Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us all.” Teza laid her hands on Beth's shoulder, and Sue, from the other side, laid hers on Elaine so that all of them were connected. “Heavenly Father, you know what we need, and we praise you for answering our heart cries. We thank you that you can heal us, that you never let us go, that you love us beyond time and measure. For your son's sake, have mercy on us all, O gracious Lord. Amen.”

Several of them murmured amens and, wiping
eyes
, they sat back down at the quilt frame.

I give up again, Lord. I can't fight anymore. Tonight I will write those Utters so that I can tell Beth I did it. Right now, please get me through this.
Kit glanced up to see Elaine watching her.
So you got prayed for too. Won'T hurt, you know.
Instead of saying what she thought or running off to hide, which sounded like an extremely good idea, she nodded slightly and returned to the rhythm of rocking the needle in, pulling it and the thread through, rocking again, stitch by tiny stitch. No matter what was going on with the stitchers, the quilt had to be finished.

Bleary-eyed from the tears of the night before, Kit fumbled with the coffee maker. On a morning like this, instant coffee would be helpful. It just might wake her up enough to make real coffee.

“Are you all right, Mom?” Ryan padded into the kitchen, Missy dancing along with him. Since he'd been home, the basset had taken to sleeping in his room. He scratched his chest and yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

“I will be. Coffee by IV would help.”

“You look like heck.”

“Thank you so very much. Just what I needed to hear.” She braced herself on the counter, wishing the water would hurry and drip through the grounds she'd finally managed to get into the filter.

“You want me to take Aunt Teza to her treatment? I'll be out there anyway.”

“Come to think of it, I thought you were going to stay out there last night.”

“I was, but since we ended up going to the late movie, I didn't want to wake her coming in.” When Kit glanced at him, he held up a hand. “Don't worry, I called her and told her I'd see her this morning.”

“Sorry.” From day one she'd drummed into her children's heads the importance of calling to let people know of any change of plans. Good to know something took. Now if she'd only accomplished as much with their father. He'd not even responded to her last two e-mails, but then who was counting? Other than she?

The machine beeped, and Kit grabbed the pot to fill two mugs. Drips from the filter sizzled on the hot plate.

“Bit of a rush, eh?” Ryan grinned at her over the lip of his mug, while inhaling the steam. “Sure beats campus coffee. This year I'm buying a coffee maker for my room.”

“There's an older one out in the garage you're welcome to take. It's smaller than this one.”

“Thanks. Since when did you start drinking so much coffee?”

Since I spent half the nights crying and needed something to get me going in the morning
Otherwise the thought of staying in bed might have became a reality.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?” She turned to him.

“Where did you go?”

“What?”

“Just now. You checked out. Where did you go?”

“Slow reflexes.”
Liar. Too bad, I'm not going to tell him things like that. He'll worry and than not necessary.
“Are you serious about taking Teza to her appointment? Wouldn't she rather you were out in her garden?”

“I can do both. You could go back to bed for a while.”

“I look that bad, huh?” The coffee was beginning to revive her. Kit ambled over to the sliding glass door and looked out over the backyard where dew glistened in the pearlized light. The sun had yet to come over the trees and set the diamonds on fire. Missy's tracks through the dew-bent grass broadcast exactly where she'd been, and her yip announced that it was time to feed the dog. Kit heard Ryan pouring dry food into the dog dish. She opened the door, and a meadowlark welcomed the sun from the lower backyard. A dog barked two yards over, and Missy darted outside to listen better. She turned back when Ryan opened the screen door to set her dish on the deck.

“Think after I bring Aunt Teza back here, I'll go get Thomas. He and Missy can play out at the farm.”

“He's a good worker. He can help you too.”

“Really?”

“He pitted apricots with me, pulled weeds, planted radish and lettuce seeds. He likes gardening.”

“He likes being with you. Shame about his mother.” Ryan plunked two pieces of bread in the toaster.

“What about her?”

“She left them a couple of years ago. They don't hear from her very often.”

“How did you find that out?”

“I asked.”

“I didn't think it was my place to ask.”

Ryan retrieved the milk carton from the fridge and poured it on his cereal. “Guy talk, Mom. No matter how good a ballplayer you are, you aint a guy.”

“Gee, thanks for telling me.” She lifted the toast out, buttered it, and took half of one slice.

“Hey, that's mine.”

“Not anymore.” Coffee mug and toast in hand, Kit headed back upstairs. Back to bed. No, she was too wide awake now. How could she best use the gift of a couple of extra hours? She stuck the last bite of toast in her mouth, set her cup down on the table by the rocker and picked up her Bible along with the tablet she'd written the letter on the night before. Once ensconced in the wing-back rocker, she laid the Bible in her lap and began to read the letter.

Dear God
,

This seems so foolish, since you already know what all has happened, and yet I promised, so here goes. Remember all those times I begged and pleaded and cried to you to heal Amber? I chimed every promise you wrote in your book, I did everything I could, and yet you let her die. I am so angry at you for that, I can't even think straight half the time. I want to scream at you and hit you and throw things. You let me down when you promised youd be therefor me always. God! How I hate you! I tried to run away, I shut you out, I quit going to church because it just hurts too much. My heart has such a hole in it that I dont think it will ever heal. Why, God, why? You dont need Amber like I do. And no, I dont want her here to suffer but to be all well again. I want to see her graduate from college. I want to hug her and hugh with her. I want to go out to lunch and talk on the phone with her. Father, her hugh is so infectious. I hve her so, and she's not here. I can't stand this. And Mark is gone, and you haven t fixed that either. Where are you now when I need you? I want to wake up in the morning to find this has all been a bad dream and I can go on with my life, the life I used to have, BC
—
before cancer. You know how much I hate that disease? In not fair. Amber did nothing wrong to have had that. She didnt smoke or drink or do drugs. She was a good kid, becoming a wonderful woman. And you dont need her like I do.