And the Shofar Blew (22 page)

When Eunice came to bed late that night, Paul pulled her into his arms and apologized again. Everything seemed right between them—more right than it had been in months—until she awakened in the morning and found herself alone in bed. She sat up quickly, and was relieved to see Paul’s suit, slacks, and shirts on hangers in the closet and his suitcase in the corner next to hers. The clock on the bedside table said seven.

Pushing back the comforter, she slipped her feet into her slippers. Pulling on her pink chenille robe, she went to check on Timmy in the upstairs guest room. On the way past the den, she saw Lois, dressed in black slacks, a white blouse, and a hip-length purple sweater, closing up the sofa bed. “I thought I should get up before Paul or Tim knew I was sleeping in here.”

The master bedroom door was closed.

“Paul and Dad must be in the kitchen having coffee.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then Paul’s probably out for a run.”

“So he’s still jogging.”

“Not as often as he’d like.”

Lois smiled. “He lettered in track in high school. He won so many sprints a scout came to talk with him about training for the Olympics.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“God called him into the ministry.”

The kitchen was full of Southern California sunshine. Lois had decorated in blue, white, and yellow. Eunice sat at the breakfast bar while Lois ground coffee beans, poured the fresh grounds into a filter, and slipped the holder into place on the coffeemaker. “What was bothering Paul last night?” She poured in the water. “He did so well at the banquet.”

Eunice shrugged. She didn’t want to say anything about Paul. “Dad must be enjoying his first day of retirement. He doesn’t usually sleep in.”

“He’s up and gone just like Paul. I closed the door to the master bedroom because I haven’t had the chance to make the bed yet.” Lois gave her a dry smile. “He went out to play golf at Lakeside.”

“Oh. Well, maybe Paul is with him.”

“No,” Lois said, looking out the kitchen window. “He’s just coming in now.”

The front door opened and closed. Paul came into the kitchen in sweatpants and a sleeveless T-shirt, his sandy hair dark with sweat. “Good morning, ladies!” He kissed Eunice and then kissed his mother’s cheek. Opening the refrigerator, he took out the orange juice, found a glass, and filled it. Still puffing, he raised it in salute. “Cheers!” He emptied it and put the glass in the sink.

Lois tossed him a kitchen towel. “Before you sweat all over my clean kitchen floor.”

He wiped his face and draped the towel around his neck. “Where’s Dad?”

“He . . . had to go out this morning.” Lois shot Eunice a look of warning.

“I was hoping to take him out to lunch. When’s he getting home?”

“I don’t think he’s going to be home until late this afternoon, Paul.” Lois set up cups and saucers. “Which means you can go with Eunice and Timmy and me to Griffith Park and the zoo.”

“Oh, joy.” He held both ends of the towel. “What’s Dad’s pager number?”

“He didn’t take his pager with him.”

Eunice saw that Lois had no intention of telling Paul that his father was playing golf. “I’d better take a shower,” Eunice said. Maybe if she was out of the kitchen, Lois could talk to Paul.

“Let me get mine first.” Paul headed for the door. “I need a shower more than you do.”

She sat on the stool again, depressed. Sooner or later, Paul was going to find out where his father was and be hurt that he hadn’t been invited.

Lois poured Eunice some coffee. “If Paul comes with us, he’ll have a good time and he won’t be around to see his father stroll in with his golf clubs. I think David is avoiding the moment when Paul asks him why he retired.”

More excuses.

Lois took a container of half-and-half from the refrigerator, filled the little cream pitcher, and placed it carefully on the counter beside the sugar bowl. “I’m glad last night is behind me.”

“It was a very beautiful program.”

Lois’s face softened. “Yes, it was. The leadership managed to kill gossip before it started. A few people left the church, but they did so quietly.” She poured a cup of coffee for herself and sat down. She added cream and sugar and stirred slowly. “Last night went a long way toward making the transition easier on the congregation.”

“Are you going to be all right, Mom?”

“Actually, I’m doing better than I expected.”

“In the den?”

She smiled sardonically. “My sciatica is acting up.”

That would be the story Paul would hear if he asked why his mother wasn’t sleeping with his father.

Paul went with them to Griffith Park. Timmy stayed with his father, drinking in every word Paul told him about the various animals, while Lois and Eunice hung back and talked.

“Everything has been handled quietly,” Lois said, “which is best for the church. The last thing I want is to cause disunity in the body, not to mention the disillusionment to some of the newer members. David is sorry about everything, of course.”

Was he repentant, or just sorry that his ministry had come to an end? Eunice wanted to ask, but didn’t want to cause Lois any more hurt.

Her mother-in-law had prepared a picnic lunch. They found a quiet place in the shade near an expanse of lawn. Lois had also thought to bring along two gloves and a baseball. The smaller one looked well used; the larger, new. Eunice couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Paul play catch with their son. She relished every moment of it. “Hold the glove up, Tim,” Paul called to their son. “That’s it! Good catch, Son!” Tim beamed.

The day was almost perfect until they pulled up in front of the house. The garage door was open and Paul’s father was lifting his golf clubs out of the trunk. “He
had
to go out, you said.” Paul jammed on the parking brake. “Nice try, Mom.”

Lois leaned forward in the backseat and put her hand on his shoulder. “We had a very nice day, Paul.”

Paul took the keys from the ignition. “I’m heading back to Centerville tomorrow morning.”

“I thought we were going to Disneyland,” Tim said from the backseat.

“Another time, Son.”

“But Dad . . . ”

“I have more important things to do than go to an amusement park!”

Eunice turned in the front seat and forced a smile. “You know your father wouldn’t break a promise to you, Tim. He has to go back, but we don’t. You and me and Grandma will head for Anaheim tomorrow morning, and spend the entire day at Disneyland. We’ll rest a day and then go to Universal Studios.”

“Cool!” Tim bounded out of the car and headed for the house. Lois got out and followed him.

Paul glared at Eunice. “What about school?”

“Tim’s teacher knows he won’t be back until Monday.”

“I suppose I’m supposed to drive back down here and pick you two up on Friday.”

“Don’t put yourself out, Paul. We can always ride a Greyhound bus home.”

“Suit yourself.” Paul shoved the door open, got out, slammed it, and strode up the walkway.

Eunice sat in the car for a moment, watching her father-in-law polish his Ping golf clubs before she got out and followed her husband into the house.

Samuel leaned his weight into the edger as he trimmed the last foot of grass from along the pathway to the front steps. He swept the blades of grass into a dustpan, dumped them into the green recycling bin in the garage, and hung up the broom and edger. He was tired, but he felt good. He loved the smell of freshly cut grass.

In deference to Abby, he took off his shoes and left them next to the step before entering the house through the garage. He could smell banana bread baking. Abby wasn’t in the kitchen. Samuel headed for the door to the backyard, but the timer pinged. He turned off the oven. Picking up the pot holders, he opened the oven and pulled out two loaves of banana bread and set them on the cooling rack.

Abby wasn’t in the backyard. He came back inside. “Abby?” He found her sitting on the bedroom floor, fighting for breath, her back against the edge of their bed.

“Abby! Honey, what’s wrong?” He gathered her in his arms, trying to slip his arm beneath her knees.

“No!” She gasped, her lips blue. “Don’t lift me.”

“I’m calling the doctor. Don’t move!” He scrambled for the phone, knocking it off the side table onto the floor. He righted it and punched in 911. As soon as he gave the dispatcher the information she needed, he hung up and knelt beside Abby. Drawing her into his arms, he held her tenderly. “Hang on, honey. They’re on their way. Hang on. Hang on.”

He could hear sirens in the distance. Easing Abby back onto the floor, he grabbed the bedpost and pulled himself up. Wincing against the pain in his knees, he hurried along the hallway, opened the front door, and went out just as the paramedics pulled up. “In here.” He beckoned them and hurried back inside and down the hall. “Abby. They’re here, honey. They’re on their way in. Hang on, honey.” He was fighting tears.

“The bread.”

“It’s on the counter, sweetheart. I turned the oven off. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re going to be fine. You’ll be fine.” He took her hand and felt her squeeze his weakly.

“Calm down, Samuel, or we’ll have to call another ambulance.” Her forehead was beaded with perspiration. He kissed it and held her close, unable to say anything past the lump in his throat.
Don’t take her from me,
Lord. Please don’t take her. Not yet
.

When the paramedics entered with their equipment, there was no room for him. He stood back, watching as they took her vitals, talked to a doctor, started an IV drip, and lifted her gently to the gurney. “I’m going with her.” Samuel followed them down the hall and out the front door. Millie Bruester was waiting at the front gate, asking him what she could do to help. “Lock up the house, would you, please?” The paramedics were lifting the gurney into the ambulance, and Abby was lifting her hand. “I’ve got to go.”

“Don’t worry about anything, Samuel. Just go. Go!”

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. When they arrived, the paramedics wheeled Abby into the emergency room, where a doctor met them and was apprised of her vitals as they wheeled her through double doors. Samuel tried to follow, but a nurse intercepted him. “I need some information, sir. You need to fill out these forms.”

“But my wife—”

“Dr. Hayes is with her, sir. He’s an excellent doctor. She couldn’t be in better hands.” She held out the clipboard with the forms. “I’ll be at the registration counter when you’re finished.”

A few minutes later, he held the clipboard out to her. “Is there a telephone I can use?”

Smiling, she took it back and nodded toward his right. “The telephones are at the end of the waiting room between the rest rooms.”

Pay phones! He dug in his pocket. It was empty. He reached into his back pocket and remembered he had left his wallet on top of his dresser in the organizer his daughter had given him. What need did he have for his wallet while mowing the lawn?

Lord, Lord . . .

“Samuel.” He saw Eunice hurrying toward him, Tim right on her heels.

“I thought you two were in Southern California.”

“We returned about an hour ago. I was just unpacking when Millie called. We came right away. How is she?”

“They won’t tell me. She’s with the doctor.” His voice cracked. Eunice wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. He put his arm around Timmy’s shoulders and pulled him in close. They all wept together.

“Don’t give up, Samuel.” Eunice rubbed his back and began to pray aloud as naturally as she took in air. Timmy pressed closer, and Samuel held on tighter as Eunice asked Jesus to be with them, to heal Abby’s body, to give them strength and patience. When she finished, the three of them remained in the embrace.

“I was going to call my daughter, but I haven’t even got a dime in my pocket and I forgot my wallet.”

Eunice reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out her change purse. “You forgot something else, too, Samuel.” She smiled up at him through her tears.

“What?”

“Your shoes.”