20

 

 

“Hi, Mom! I’m home.”

At the upbeat greeting, Karen wiped her hands on a dish towel and hurried toward the foyer. Kristen must have had fun with her father on her two-day visit to St. Louis—a mini vacation no doubt enhanced by Stephanie’s absence.

To her surprise, Michael had followed Kristen in.

“I can take that, Dad. I’m fully mobile again.” She shook her cast-free leg as she relieved him of her overnight bag. “Thanks again.” Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek.

“I’ll call you soon, sweetie, and we’ll schedule another visit.” He gave her a longer-than-usual hug.

“Cool.” She bounded over to Karen and planted a quick kiss on her cheek too. “Anything new?”

“Erin and Steven called this morning. They said they couldn’t get you on your cell.”

“The battery died. I forgot to recharge it last night.”

“Well, they both sounded anxious to talk with you. I left the messages in your room. Do you want some dinner?”

“Nope. We got a burger. See you later, Dad.” With a quick wave, she almost skipped down the hall.

“I’d say she enjoyed her visit.” Karen watched her until she disappeared.

“She’s a bundle of energy, no question about that. I’m worn out.”

Turning back, she gave him a more thorough scrutiny. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and grooves of weariness radiated from their corners. He’d lost weight too. His custom-tailored clothes, always impeccably fitted, hung too loose on his frame.

His breakup with Stephanie must be taking a significant toll.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “How about having that cup of coffee we never got around to on my last visit?”

“I don’t see the point. We finished that discussion.”

“This is a different subject—and it affects Kristen.”

At his solemn tone, Karen frowned. “I have to be at church in less than an hour for a meeting.”

“This won’t take long.”

A tête-à-tête with her ex hadn’t been on her agenda, but if it involved Kristen…

“I’ll put the pot on.”

“Not here. Let’s run down to the diner. You can go to church from there. I’d rather discuss this in private.” He motioned toward Kristen’s room.

A flutter of unease rippled through her. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s talk about it over coffee.”

Much as she wanted to press, based on the firm set of his jaw that would be fruitless.

“I’ll meet you there.”

In the ten minutes it took to gather up her purse, run a brush through her hair, and drive to the diner, her concern escalated. What could Michael have to tell her that affected Kristen? Her daughter had been happy and carefree after she arrived home—but had some aspect of the father-daughter visit gone awry?

As she joined him and slid into the opposite side of the booth, she got straight to business. “What’s this all about, Michael?”

“I had some bad news about a week ago.” He pushed a mug of steaming coffee toward her. “I’m strug­gling with how to tell Kristen and wondering if we should do it together.”

“What kind of news?”

“I have pancreatic cancer. Advanced and inoperable.”

She stared at him, seconds ticking by in silence while she wrestled with his news, the buzz of conversation in the diner receding into the background.

Michael was dying?

It didn’t compute.

“Is this...confirmed?”

“I got a second opinion.”

Mind reeling, she tried to absorb his announcement. “I’m sorry.” Even as she uttered the platitude, it sounded lame.

“Yeah. Me too.” He gave a brief, mirthless laugh. “So much for all those hours I spent at the gym, trying to stay healthy.” He blotted up a drop of coffee with his napkin. “But my main concern is Kristen.”

Kristen.

Karen’s stomach bottomed out. “She’ll be devastated.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first. See how you thought we should handle telling her.”

“I…I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

“It can’t wait too long, Karen. They’re only giving me six months. At best.”

Sweet mercy.

“Are you…are they certain?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no treatment?”

“Nothing that will extend my life by any appreciable amount. I’ll stay independent for as long as I can, but I expect at the end I’ll have to go to a hospice.”

Hospice.

Michael.

Another disconnect. With his strict diet and exercise regimen, she’d expected him to live into his eighties, as his own father had.

“That prognosis brings me to a favor I’d like to ask. I don’t want an answer tonight. Pray for guidance, if you want to, but please don’t say no until you think about it.” He took a sip of coffee. Some of it sloshed out, and using both hands to steady the mug he set it carefully back on the table.

“I’ll cut to the chase. Aside from a distant cousin in California, I have no real family to help me get through this, as you know. So I need someone to see that everything is done properly after I’m no longer able to make decisions on my own. Someone with solid values, who can temper compassion with practicality.” He paused. “Someone like you.”

She gaped at him.

After all that had happened between them, he’d ask her to take on a chore like this, with its myriad responsibilities and demands?

What was he thinking?

Yet...how often had she talked about the importance of compassion to Kristen? Wouldn’t assisting the father her daugh­ter loved through his challenges demonstrate a practical application of that virtue? Help her get through what was sure to be a pro­found trauma?

“As I said, I don’t expect an answer tonight.” Michael leaned forward. “All I ask is that you consider it. Please.”

She wrapped her hands around her mug, letting the warmth seep into her cold fingers. “I can do that. Give me a few days.”

The tension in his features slackened. “Thank you.” He slid his mug aside and rested his hands on the table. “I also want you to know I’ve been thinking about our last conversation—and about our marriage. Everything you said was true. I was the one who had a good thing. I’m sorry I never treated you as a partner. I’m also sorry I mocked your religion. In all honesty, I wish I had your faith. It must be comforting to believe there’s a higher power in control and a greater purpose than we can often discern to the events of our lives. I realize it’s too little, too late, but I want you to know I’m truly sorry for all my mistakes.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll be in touch no later than the weekend.”

“Thank you.” He took a final sip of his coffee and picked up the check. “You have to get to church. Go ahead. I’ll flag the waitress down.”

With a nod, Karen slid from the booth and exited the diner.

Reeling.

Michael was dying—and he wanted her to be there for him through all the minutia of his disease...and his death.

Selfish or not, her inclination was to refuse.

But she had to think about Kristen. While the divorce had been hard on her, Michael had remained part of her life. This separation would be final—and the foundations of Kristen’s world would once again be shaken. Regardless of her personal feelings, she had to weigh the effect of her choice on her daughter.

Because despite what she’d told Scott about learning to factor her own interests into decisions, this time Kristen came first.

 

* * *

 

Karen kept the news about Michael to herself until her Saturday coffee date with Val—and after she shared it, her sister appeared as stunned as she had been.

“But he’s only...what? Fifty-one? That’s too young to die. I may not be Michael’s biggest fan, but this is rotten.”

“I know.” The coffee grinder behind the counter echoed the churning in her stomach.

“Does Kristen know yet?”

“No. Michael and I talked on Thursday night about how to tell her. We decided to think about it for a few days.”

“It’ll be tough, no matter how you do it.”

“Tough” was a perfect description for her next revelation too—but she had to talk it through with someone. “He also asked me for a favor.”

“He isn’t pushing you to get back together, is he?” Val’s eyes narrowed. “Sort of a dying man’s wish and all that?”

“Not in the sense you mean—but he’s alone, and he asked me to take care of his affairs after he...after he can’t do it for himself anymore.”

Val expelled a breath. “He’s got nerve, I’ll give him that.”

“Believe it or not…I’m thinking of say­ing yes.”

Her sister stared at her. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“But…why would you do this? After how he treated you, you don’t owe him a thing.”

“No, but Kristen loves him, and the next few months will be difficult for her. It might help if I put my animosity aside and give her an example of Christian love and charity in action. Let her know I’ve accepted her father’s apology and forgiven him.”

“Have you?”

“I’ve accepted his apology. I haven’t quite reached the forgiveness stage yet—but I’ll get there.”

For a few seconds, Val studied her. Then she lifted her hands, palms up. “All I can say is you’re a far better person than I would be in the same circumstances.”

“What would you do?”

“Tell the bum to take a hike.”

“Gee. Don’t hold anything back. Tell me how you really feel.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be heartless, but he doesn’t deserve your compassion—or the sacrifices you’ll have to make.”

“We didn’t either, when the Lord came to offer us salvation and redemption. He did it out of selfless love. That’s the example I’m trying to follow.”

“A hard argument to counter.” Val leaned closer. “Listen, do what you have to do—and don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. Talk to Reverend Richards about it, if you think that will help. He strikes me as a man who’d offer sound counsel.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” She sipped her drink. “And while we’re on a church-related topic…I’m glad you decided to come to services with us.”

Val gave a dismissive wave. “I don’t have anything else to do on Sunday mornings.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Her sister swiped at a stray drop of caramel on the table. “There might be one or two others.”

Karen leaned back and pretended to mull that over. “David’s in the congregation. Could he be one of them?”

“That wouldn’t be a very noble reason to go to church, would it?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Uh-huh.”

Karen grinned. “Well, whatever the reason—or reasons—I know God is glad you’ve rejoined the fold.”

“I’ll probably return to my old ways once I’m back in Chicago.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You may be surprised. Your visit to Washington could have a longer-lasting impact than you think.”

A tiny beat of silence passed between them before Val picked up her drink and redirected the conversation to their mother’s progress, but it was charged with some taut emotion Karen couldn’t identify.

What was going on with her sister?

Margaret’s illness may have been the catalyst for the return of the prodigal daughter, but was there more to Val’s homecoming? After all, she’d disappeared on several occasions without explanation and returned shaken. Cut off discussions about her love life. Began attending church again.

Why?

Karen hadn’t a clue.

And unless their growing friendship took a quantum leap in the next couple of weeks, Val would return to Chicago leaving that mystery unsolved.

 

* * *

 

Beads of sweat formed on Karen’s forehead as she crossed the lawn toward the church offices, and she swiped them away with her fingertips. This was ridiculous. At seven o’clock in the evening, with the sun already dipping behind the tall trees, the temperature shouldn’t still be hovering somewhere between bake and broil.

A tiny warm breeze wafted past as she approached the door to the reception area. Better—but not much.

It was going to be a long, hot August.

To her surprise, the door opened and Rev­erend Richards lifted a hand in greeting. “I spotted you crossing the lawn. Seeking refuge from the heat?”

“Returning the proof of the flier for the benefit. We have to get this printed and distributed to the participating churches ASAP.” She waved a manila envelope at him.

“I appreciate your willingness to brave this scorcher on behalf of the benefit. Come in.”

She entered and set it on the receptionist’s desk. “I didn’t expect to find anyone here on a Saturday night. I was going to drop it through the mail slot.”

“I’m putting a few finishing touches on tomorrow’s sermon—and in the interest of full disclosure, the ladies’ guild is meeting at our house tonight.”

“Aha. I’m not the only refugee.”

“Guilty as charged. How’s your mom doing?”

“Improving every day.”

“And Kristen?”

Recalling Val’s suggestion from earlier in the day, she frowned.

“You look like a woman with a heavy subject on her mind. Could you use a friendly ear?”

“You have a sermon to polish.”

“It’s probably as polished as it’s going to get.”

“Well…if you’re sure you have a few minutes.”

He motioned her in. “The ladies’ guild meeting won’t be over for two hours. I’m not venturing home until the place clears out.”

“In that case...” She took a seat in his adjacent office. “It’s about Michael.”

He claimed the chair beside her. “More issues?”

“Not the kind we’ve discussed in the past.” Thank goodness she’d sought his guidance in the months leading up to her separation. Since he was fully briefed, she could launch straight into the latest chapter, including Michael’s apology and his request.

After she finished, the minister leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “It sounds like you’ve already given this a great deal of thought.”

“I have—and I’ve prayed too. I realize his repentance may be driven by the fact that he needs me, but I have a sense his remorse is real. My conscience is prodding me to take the high road and be charitable for Kristen’s sake, if nothing else, but I’d like a second opinion.”

“If you’ve already spoken to God, you don’t need me.”

“Your voice is easier to hear.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “You aren’t the first to tell me that, and I agree it can be difficult to discern God’s voice—even for ministers.” His manner grew more serious. “But you’ve taken all the appropriate steps. You’ve prayed, given the request careful deliberation, and come to a decision that feels appropriate. I can’t do anything for you that you haven’t already done, except to say I admire your generous spirit and compassion, and that I think the Lord would be pleased by such an unselfish example of the charity and brotherly love he preached.”

The knot in Karen’s stomach loosened. “Thank you.”

“Shall we join our hearts in prayer for a moment?”

“I’d like that.”

He bowed his head, and she followed his lead. “Lord, we ask you to guide your daughter as she embarks on a difficult journey. Give her grace and strength in the months ahead. Grant her wisdom and sound judgment as she deals with hard decisions, and give her abundant blessings as she seeks to follow the example you set when you came to save—and to serve. Amen.” After a moment of silence, the minister unclasped his hands. “God go with you. I’ll keep you in my prayers.”

“I appreciate that.”

And as she exited moments later to find the sky had transitioned from blue to gray, she suspected she would need every prayer said on her behalf in the weeks to come.