The Beach House (45 page)

Amen
.

The images of prancing toddlers were gone.

But that nice feeling lingered. It grew into a peace unlike anything Jo had ever experienced. She climbed into bed, almost asleep before she laid her head on the pillow.

I prayed. I really did
.

What is it about this beach house
?

Andie awoke with a start. The bedroom was middle-of-the-night dark. Except for the rhythmic swish of ocean, everything was quiet.

It must have been the chocolate. Until dessert that evening, she hadn’t eaten sugar for some days. Her body was simply reacting—

Like a black fury out of nowhere, her conversation with Paul the previous morning rushed at her. It whirled, a funnel cloud inside of her, stirring up fear and anxiety.
You have a week to end it and make an appointment with a marriage counselor. I’m spending another six days out here
.

What had she done?

She had drawn a line in the sand and dared him to cross it.

The sinking sensation was not an unfamiliar one. If she’d been standing, she would have had to sit down as the loss of feeling crept through her limbs.

Paul would not cross that line. He was not on his way to California on a red-eye flight. He would remain on his own side and do as he pleased and drag her back across because that was where he needed her.

She would go because they shared two sons and a home and church and friends. How could she jeopardize all of that? If she didn’t go back, what irreparable damage would she inflict upon Jadon and Zach? What would people think? How would she pay bills? Keep up the house?

Marriage was for as long as they both should live. For better, for worse.

Panic bubbled in her chest and cut off air to her lungs. She gasped. Sheer terror roared, a dragon flinging itself about the small room. She couldn’t breathe.

“Lord Jesus!” she cried aloud.

Instant calm enveloped her, as if a door had been shut against a raging thunderstorm. Peace filled the room. She struggled for a breath. And then all was quiet.

Was He that near? That real?

She climbed from the bed, went down on her knees, and bowed her head on the quilt.

“I am terrified by myself,” she whispered. “Are You here? Will You take care of me?”

Her eyes were closed but a scene developed before her, not exactly within her imagination but somewhere beyond it, in some undefined territory between dream and reality.

She was on the beach, walking along the ocean’s edge. Cool water tickled her feet and ankles. Salty humid air filled her nostrils. Someone moved along beside her, a taller, masculine presence. She could not see a face, but the arm brushing against her left one felt solid as a rock.

She could not hear a voice but, without aid of an eardrum, words imprinted themselves upon her mind. “Andie, I am so fond of you. There is nothing to fear. I will always take care of you.”

As if a curtain dropped, the scene vanished. Her left arm tingled, nerve endings remembering a touch.

Joy engulfed her then. Unspeakable, uncontainable, incomparable.

Laughter and grateful tears spilled from her.

Molly gave up trying to convince Jo she was going stir-crazy lying in bed. Instead she simply changed into a T-shirt and sweat pants and carried her pillow out to the front room couch.

“Jo, it’s no worse than last night. I’m okay.” She settled down on the cushions and tried to set her face into a compliant expression.

Jo loomed over her. “Don’t you dare move until I get back.”

Molly held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Andie nudged Jo aside with her elbow and handed Molly a cup of tea with a neat array of saltines on the saucer. “Go get her some real breakfast. The eggs are gone and we only have a few crackers left.”

Molly smiled. “Thanks, Andie. How were the waves?”

“Super.” She sat on the edge of the couch at Molly’s feet. Her hair was still wet from her early morning swim. “How I wish there were an ocean in Wisconsin!”

Char entered from the hallway, her eyes at half-mast. “How I wish there were coffee in San Diego. Is there?”

Andie laughed. “I didn’t expect you up already! But the pot is ready to go.”

“I didn’t want to miss any of our last full day together.” She moved to the kitchen counter and flipped on the coffeemaker.

Molly exchanged a smile with Andie.

Jo said, “Char, do you want a breakfast burrito? I’m going to Kono’s.”

She wrinkled her nose and headed for the loveseat.

“Okay, nothing for you just yet.”

Molly said, “You won’t forget Jimmy Mack?”

“I will deliver breakfast to him only if you promise not to move off of that couch.”

“I already promised.”

“You said ‘Scout’s honor.’ We were never Scouts.”

“What a stickler! I think I’m glad you weren’t around for my other pregnancies, Dr. Josephine.” Molly caught sight of Jo’s shoulders sagging and dropped her mocking tone. “I wasn’t serious.”

“I know.”

“I promise not to move.”

“Okay.”

Andie cleared her throat. “I’d like to say something.”

Molly laughed. “Andie, your face is lit up like a Christmas tree.”

Her grin stretched even wider. “The most amazing thing happened last night. I got all fearful again, all anxious and mousey sometime in the middle of the night. Just woke up with it. But I prayed. And I sensed—you won’t believe this! But it really happened. I sensed Jesus was with me, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I’m going to be all right whether Paul changes or not.”

Molly thrust a hand in the air. “Amen!”

From the other couch Char warbled a subdued version of her rebel cry. “As I live and breathe! Me too!”

Molly laughed. “You too what?”

“I prayed last night, and then I talked to Savannah and then I figured out—no, I didn’t figure anything out. I just knew Cam loves us and God will take care of us. No matter what.”

“Amen again,” Molly said, more quietly because a feeling of awe was filling her. Both Char and Andie had prayed! And they both felt a new peace.

Jo turned abruptly and walked to the door. Molly knew she was eager to go. She wore shorts and athletic shoes, planning to jog to Kono’s. She had missed her routine exercise all week.

But Molly knew she also felt left out of the conversation. Her heart ached for Jo. What could she say?

Hand on the screen door latch, Jo turned. “Egg and black bean for you two?”

“Yes, please,” Andie said.

She didn’t wait for Molly’s reply but walked out the door. It fell shut behind her.

Dear Lord
—

The door reopened and Jo stepped back inside. “Well, okay. I guess I’m supposed to tell you. I had my own come-to-Jesus meeting.” She raised a hand and closed her eyes. “I mean no disrespect, Lord.”

Tears sprang to Molly’s eyes.

Jo walked across the room. “I confessed everything. Old and new stuff. I told Him I really want to see my baby girl. I told Him if He keeps your baby safe, Moll, I’ll work in that clinic.” She sat on the edge of the coffee table. “I’ll take care of every poor pregnant woman in San Diego County. Of course, that was an exaggeration, but I will try my hardest.” She sounded breathless.

“And?” Molly prompted. There was more in Jo’s eyes.

She gulped. “I didn’t hear voices, but…I came up with an idea. The thing is, my life needs a major overhaul. The only place I can figure out where to begin is with you, Moll.”

“With me?”

“I mean I want to just hang with you for a while. As in for months. As in I want to deliver this baby. As in I don’t want you flying home tomorrow. I want you to come home with me.” She glanced at Andie. “And Andie. Then, when you’re ready—that is, when I’m ready to let you go—I’ll pay the flight change fee. But I’d rather drive you home to Oregon.”

Jo rushed her words together. “We could probably leave in a few days, be there by Friday. And then I want to stay and rent a place to live until Joseph-slash-Josephine arrives in April. I want to figure out what to do with my future—like I mean, honestly, can I live in an old one-bedroom apartment, work in a clinic, and not charge an arm and a leg above public aid payments? I just hope He doesn’t send me to Africa!” She drew in a deep breath. “Moll, the bottom line is I need to watch how you live in the grays. Is that too much to ask?”

Molly wasn’t precisely sure what Jo had asked, but she heard rumblings of a newborn faith and of a desire to see it change her life. She smiled. “No, it’s not too much to ask.”

Jo brushed impatiently at her eyes. “I think I even want to invite Julian and Zeke over for dinner.” She shrugged.

Molly grinned with Char and Andie as they all nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

Andie said, “Oh, Jo! What an adventure for you! I want to come. Can I come? Just till next week? I could fly home from Oregon. I’d love to see where you live, Molly. What do you think? I can help you drive.” She opened her mouth into an O and her brows rose up her forehead. “Me, driving in California! Yikes!”

Jo hiccupped a tearful laugh. “Yes! Spunky Andie lives! Of course you can come with us.”

Andie turned to Char. “How about you?”

“Thank you, sugar. We haven’t had a road trip in ever so long. It would be such fun, but…” She smiled. “The thing is, Cam called already today. Isn’t that the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard? The man who hasn’t called me in fifteen years wakes me up today because he can’t wait to talk to me!” The smile went crooked. “And, well, he got the business loan approved—
this morning
. He was on his way to sign the lease for the restaurant space. If I don’t get home tomorrow, he’ll be choosing wallpaper without me. His decorating skills are not something you would envy.”

Andie said, “Oh, dear. Talk about yikes. Are you okay?”

Char’s smile disintegrated. “I will be. I think I need a group hug. Maybe even one more cry fest?”

Molly set her teacup on the end table and held out her arms. Andie scooted along the couch and grasped one of her hands. Char bustled over from the chair and sat next to Molly on the couch, taking her other hand.

Jo slid to the floor beside them and caught the two available hands, closing the circle. “What is it about this beach house, anyway?”

September 27, One Year Later

San Diego, California

Dr. Josephine Zambruski studied the five-by-seven framed photograph displayed on her desk and smiled. The picture always made her smile. How could she help but grin at that awful reddish-orange so-called Southern California beach house? In front of it, she, Molly, Char, and Andie stood, caught in the middle of a belly laugh. Her friends’ faces were a sure guarantee of a smile. The memory of their week in the house a year ago would forever produce a rush of joy.

They had waited until the last morning, right before Char left for the airport, to pose for the “official” reunion snapshot. Char had snagged Julian, that odd duck who lived next door, as he walked by and shoved the camera into his hands. He said something about cheese in his Sean Connery accent, Andie mimicked him, and that was all it took. They clung to each other to keep from rolling on the patio’s flagstones.

Andie was at her spunkiest, wearing a black wet suit, damp hair springing all directions. Char wore the huge earrings Jo had given her, a genuine smile—not the pert one—and a colorful hip outfit that only an attractive diminutive Georgia peach could get away with. Molly, dear Molly, always comfortable in her own skin, wore a T-shirt and shorts and an open-mouth grin that made her laugh nearly audible. Peace reigned in her face even as her body threatened to reject the tiny new life which had barely begun to live.

Although Jo herself smiled in the photo, she appeared in shock with eyes too wide and bright. Of course she was in shock. By then she had more or less decided to sell out, move to a dinky apartment, work in an underprivileged, crime-infested neighborhood, right after spending six months of R & R in, of all places, rainy Oregon with a pastor’s family.

Jo’s office door opened and stopped just short of bumping one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Rearrangement wasn’t possible in the cramped space. She had learned to make do.

The receptionist, a widow and gem of a grandmotherly type, poked her head inside. “Dr. Jo, there’s a man on the phone who wants to make an appointment for his pregnant wife after eight o’clock some night next week. I said we don’t do that, but he said, quote, ‘You tell Sister Jo this is Brother Zeke.’”

Jo laughed. “They’re pregnant?” She clapped her hands. “Yes, Ginny, by all means make the appointment for whenever they need it. I owe that man a lot.”

“Okay. You’re the boss.”

“Thanks. Hey, isn’t it after five? Please go home.”

The woman smiled. “Like I have something better to do on a Saturday night? When are you going home?”

Jo glanced down at an open file on her desk and the stack of folders beside it. “Uh…soon.”