Joan begins adding more ingredients to the stuffing. “John says it to me as in ‘today’s the day God is healing you of cancer.’”
Alice stops peeling and looks up at both of them. “Really?” For as long as Alice has known John, there hasn’t been a smack of God talk or about religion or spirituality of any kind from him or Joan, and this surprises her.
“Yeah,” Joan says, stopping her work. “What do you think about that?”
Alice is quiet, trying to keep tears from forming, but they rim her eyes anyway. She looks at Joan, smiling. “I think that today’s the day!”
November 2012
Lauren is carrying Christmas decorations out of the storage room when her cell phone rings in her pocket. The children are outside, waiting in the pickup line with most of the volunteers. She reaches for her phone, answering it. “Hello.”
“Is this Lauren?”
It is a woman’s voice that Lauren doesn’t recognize. “Yes.”
“This is Kathy Waters. You left a note on my father-in-law Bud’s door.”
“Right!” Lauren says, bubbling with excitement as she reaches with one hand for another small box of decorations.
“I wanted to let you know that he’s been in Arizona, visiting his brother, but while he was there Bud became ill and his trip home is delayed until he’s better. He hasn’t seen your note. Can I help you?”
Lauren continues to pull decorations from the shelves. “I don’t know. This is going to sound crazy, but I found a lot of recipes inside a table that I bought, and some of the recipes mention buying milk from Bud. I’m hoping he can remember who these recipes belong to because I don’t think their owner meant to give them away with the table.”
“Huh,” Kathy says. “I don’t know if he’d be able to remember someone or not. My father-in-law is elderly and not in the best physical shape anymore. He sold the farm years ago. My husband flew out this morning to be with him in Arizona. When we’re able to bring him home, I will tell him to call you.”
“Thanks,” Lauren says. “And I hope your father-in-law gets better soon.”
“Thanks! I do, too.”
Lauren hangs up and realizes she has done everything that she can do to find the owner of the recipes. She hates to think that someone has lost them forever, but there’s nothing more she can do. She is opening the boxes of the decorations when Gloria, Miriam, Dalton, Heddy, Amy, Stacy, and Andrea finish with afternoon pickup and step back inside. “Same areas as last year, Gloria?” Lauren asks.
“Whatever you think best,” Gloria says.
Each box is marked with the location where the decorations were used last year: front window, entry doors and check-in, bulbs for tree, tutoring room, reading center, Gloria’s office, etc. “All right!” Lauren says. “Grab a box and decorate a section. Dalton, can you get the tree out of the storage room and carry it to the front entry? We’ll have the kids make decorations this week for the tree, but here’s a box of bulbs for it.”
Gloria reaches for a box. “Come on. We can get this done in thirty minutes or so. Many hands make light work!”
Miriam scoffs. “Hurry up, everyone, before Gloria pelts us with more of her Southern phrases.”
Gloria walks across the big room to the reading center. “That’s not southern, Miriam.”
Miriam picks up a box for the front windows. “If it’s not British, it’s Southern. Everything American sounds the same to me.”
“And everything British sounds goofy,” Gloria says, opening a box. “Tiggety who! What does that even mean?”
Miriam pulls decorations from the box in a huff. “It’s tickety-boo, Gloria, and I can assure you that things are not tickety-boo right now.” Gloria laughs and hands her a reindeer decoration for the front window ledge.
Lauren loads a classic Christmas CD into the player and turns it up, drowning out Gloria and Miriam. “Christmas spirit, people!” She puts on an elf hat and wraps tinsel around her neck as she decorates Gloria’s office. When she finishes, she walks into the entryway, where Miriam is putting up the final evergreen swags across the wall at the top of the doors. Dalton, Heddy, Gloria, Andrea, and Amy are putting their empty boxes back into the storage room as Lauren turns on the switch for the lights draped over each doorway. “Woo-hoo!” she says, looking at the room. “Just a little Christmas cheer does wonders for a room! Come on! Let’s take a picture.” They squeeze in together in front of the reindeer cutouts on the wall and smile as Lauren takes a selfie. She raises her arm to take another one but stops, clutching her stomach, bending over.
“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, next to her.
“What is it, babe?” Gloria asks, putting her hand on Lauren’s back.
Lauren stands up straight. “I don’t know. That was more than a kick. It—” She doubles over again and Dalton steps to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“We need to get you to the doctor,” Andrea says.
“I really think I’m fine. Agh!” Lauren says, groaning in pain.
“You’re clearly not fine,” Miriam says.
“I’ll get my car,” Andrea says, running for the front doors.
“I’ll get your bag out of your locker,” Gloria says to Lauren. Lauren groans in pain again, and Miriam helps Dalton get her through the doors and to Andrea’s car. Gloria opens Lauren’s locker and reaches for her bag, hanging inside. She notices something in the top cubby of the locker, but there isn’t time to think about it. It will have to wait until later. She hurries the bag outside and gets into the backseat with Miriam. “We’ll call as soon as we hear something,” she says, waving to Dalton and Heddy.
TWENTY-FOUR
November 1972
Since Thanksgiving, Alice has been living with Joan and John. When Joan has enough strength, she helps Alice in the kitchen; when she is unable, Alice takes food on a tray to her inside the bedroom or in the living room. “We have to make sure Mommy gains weight,” she says to Gigi and Christopher, setting a tray down on Joan’s lap with a plate filled with a chicken salad sandwich and a cup of butternut squash soup.
“You still want her to get fat?” Gigi says, sitting on the sofa next to Joan.
Alice smiles. “The doctor wants her to gain weight.”
“Dear God, please make Mommy fat,” Gigi says into the air as she bounces off the sofa to play with the LEGO bricks that are strewn across the floor with Christopher.
Joan is quiet as she looks at the food. “Mom, I…”
Alice sits down next to her. “Just a few bites? Please?”
“I just don’t think I can right now. I want to, but…”
“You only took one bite of toast this morning.” Alice puts her hand on top of Joan’s. “Can you try? You’re so close, Joan. You can have the surgery and…”
“And then what?” Joan is looking at her mom without tears or fear or any worry. “Another surgery?”
“Maybe,” Alice says, her voice a mixture of understanding and hope. “Maybe, Joan. We don’t know. I know it’s a bad day, but this meal could turn it around,” she says, smiling.