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Authors: Brenda Bevan Remmes

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BOOK: The Quaker Café
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“Why do you think that is, Richard?” Liz asked.

“I don’t know. Perhaps the beauty of life eclipses the trauma of birth. Do you dwell on the pain you experienced when you delivered your babies?”

“Actually, I don’t,” Liz said.

“I’ve never had that experience,” Maggie said. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I haven’t either,” said Richard, “but the day I stood in the delivery room and saw my babies born… that day I believed in miracles.”

“Me, too,” Liz added. “It’s unbelievable.”

“Each of those little forms emerged into this world out of darkness into light, completely dependent that someone would be there to protect and nourish them
. I guess that’s what I believe about death. We don’t know what’s on the other side, but we go with trust and faith that there will be loving arms, so to speak, to nourish and protect us as we pass from one life into the next.”

“And you believe that the miracle after death eclipses the process that takes place when we’re dying?” Maggie asked.

“That’s what I believe,” Richard said.


Walking in the light. Standing in the light,”
Liz said. “Very Quakerly.”

Silence rested over the room for a period before Maggie said, “My problem is that I need more time
. I still have things to do.”

“Well, perhaps this is God’s way of helping you prioritize your tasks?  Maybe something that was at the bottom of your list needs to be shifted to the top,” Richard said.

“Could be,” Maggie said. “I’m just so very tired. Do you think there is a reprieve?”

“God repeatedly offers us reprieves,” Richard said
. “The problem is we always expect to be given one more.”

Chapter Thirty

 

 

Liz knew that the check-in at the hotel in Charleston would send shock waves through Grandma Hoole, but she didn’t know how to prevent the inevitable. Chase promised he had prepared his mother for what to expect, but he had been unusually quiet and distant the past week. Liz could feel the strain on their relationship. The stress was beginning to show on everyone.

They drove two cars to Charleston
. Grandpa drove with Liz and Evan. Grandma was in the car with Chase and Nicholas. Everyone arrived tired after the eight hour trip.

“Chase,” Grandma protested as
a valet swooped in to retrieve the luggage from both cars and disappeared with the keys, “I can carry my own luggage. This is not necessary.”

“I’ll get it, Mom,” Chase said as he fished out a roll of ones and fives to peel off for tips. “Everybody’s got to make a living.”

A doorman ushered the family into the lobby and Chase, Grandpa, and the boys went up to the front desk. Nicholas and Evan were both wide-eyed as they surveyed the opulence of the surroundings. It was surely a step up from the Hampton Inn, where they stayed on their trips to St. Paul. Meanwhile, Grandma Hoole breathed into Liz’s ear non-stop. “This is ridiculous. We can stay someplace much less expensive than this. There is no need to spend all this money for a bed. Grandpa and I will go stay at Sophie’s.”

“Grandma, please just try to enjoy it
. You know Sophie and Jack are in the middle of renovations at their house. Everyone is staying here and this puts you where the buses will pick you up for the rehearsal party at the beach. Besides, the reception after the wedding is here in their ballroom. It’s just a block’s walk from here to the church.”

“I don’t know,” she protested
. “We’ll pay our share of this.”

“No you won’t
. It’s a gift. Please accept it and just have a good time.”

“Will your mother and father be staying here also?” she asked.

Liz knew their presence wouldn’t necessarily line up in the plus column.

“My mom and dad will be here, and Adam gets in tonight
. It keeps us all together.”

Grandma
Hoole stared critically at the elaborate crystal chandelier and eyed the lavish floral arrangements on the pedestals in the foyer before she sat down on a leather high-back settee. “Your boys will start to think everyone has weddings like this. You didn’t do all of this for Adam’s wedding.”

“We did what Adam and Heather wanted for their wedding,” Liz said patiently
. She knew the comparison was inevitable. “They wanted a Quaker wedding in Cedar Branch. Nat and Lexa have chosen something different.”

Chase returned with two room keys and pointed everyone in the direction of the elevators
. “Adam isn’t here yet, but Nat has already checked in and left a note that he is out at the beach house with Frogbelly and the others. They are getting the cooker set up and the pig is on ice.”

“On ice where?” Evan asked
. His Tar Heel T-shirt had suffered from a stain of ketchup and French fries at lunch. Liz knew she’d need to wash it out to dry overnight.

“In the bath tub out at Folly Beach,” Chase said.

“They put a pig on ice in a bathtub?” Evan raised his voice in alarm as he fiddled nervously with the latch on a case of matchbox cars. “Why did they do that?”

Nicholas chided his brother, “H
e’s dead.”

“They’ve got a dead pig in a bathtub?”  Evan look horrified
. “Who killed him?”

“Let’s not get into this right now,” Liz said, fearful that Nicholas might be relishing the opportunity to describe the pig’s fate to his little brother
. It was a topic he would have already analyzed and probably questioned to death on the drive down in the other car. “Let’s get into the rooms, and we’ll explain later.”

At Grandpa and Grandma’s room Chase slid the key card into the door and showed Grandpa how it worked.

“Where’s our suitcase?” Grandma Hoole said as Chase stepped back so she could enter.

“They’re sending it up, Mom,” Chase said.

She walked in and surveyed the king-size bed, side bar, desk, and gold satin curtains that stretched across one entire wall at the end of the room. “Good heavens, how many people will share our bed with us tonight?”

Chase smiled
. “Just you and Dad.”

“I’ll never find him.”

“Reach out your hand and I’ll be there,” Grandpa reassured her and then waved a hand to shoo everyone out. “We’ll be fine. It’s late and it’s been a long drive. You go on now, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Remember,” Liz said
. “I have to go to the airport to pick up my mother and father at ten. Then I’ll come right back here to get you, Grandma, for the bridesmaid’s luncheon.”

“We’ll be just fine
. You do what you have to do. Don’t worry about us.” Grandpa closed the door behind them as he spoke.

*****

Nat and Adam entered their parents’ room the next morning in a fanfare of shouts, as they jousted with Nicholas and Evan. As the two younger boys climbed over their older brothers, Chase gave Adam a hug and asked about Heather. Liz was at the ironing board removing the remaining dampness from Evan’s not-completely-dry T-shirt.

“She’s doing great
. Everything’s on schedule.” He eyed his mother’s head. “Nice haircut.”

“You like it?” Liz asked hopefully.

“Well, I had been warned,” he said with a genuine smile and rubbed the top of her head.

“You boys need something to eat?” Chase asked, to which there was a resounding
yes
.

Liz watched as they headed down the hall in a gaggle
. These were the moments she knew Chase loved the most. He pushed the elevator button. The doors opened and they disappeared. She wanted more than ever to be with them. Instead, Liz was headed to the airport.

*****

Liz’s father, James Reynolds, had retired as a chemistry professor at Macalester College in St. Paul, in 1985, and successfully transferred his skills into consultancy work with a prominent pharmaceutical company. Still in good health with marketable expertise and no children underfoot or student papers to grade, he had never been happier.

Her mother, Barbara, had retired as Director at the University of Minnesota School of Nursing, where she
’d run her staff with precision. After twenty-five years in health care, Barbara remained on everyone’s A-list as a favored board member. If she accepted, she could raise money like nobody’s business.

James kept his busy schedule; Barbara kept hers
. If they didn’t get around to an evening together for several days, no one complained. Liz felt fortunate to have parents who were healthy, active and happy.  

Liz and Chase dutifully made an ann
ual trip each year to visit her folks in St. Paul. Otherwise, Liz’s family remained focused on the Hooles.

Parking around the airport was horrendous, but Liz found a place in time to be waiting at the gate for her parents to disembark
. Her father came first with a briefcase and a tote bag filled with files and books. He had a tendency to put on weight, but his wife kept him on a tight regimen of fresh vegetables and fish. He preferred a Wendy’s burger with a chocolate frosty when on his own.

Barbara followed several steps behind him
. She was petite, immaculately dressed in a travel suit that showed no wrinkles. Her dark brown hair was coiffed in a fashionable bob. Liz looked nothing like her. She was her daddy’s girl; curly copper hair, round, and juggling life on a daily basis.

“Daddy,” Liz walked up to him, gave him a peck on the cheek and took his carry-on from his hand
. He stared at her without speaking before her mother joined them.

  “Elizabeth Reynolds
Hoole, what in God’s name have you done to your hair?” she asked.

“I cut it, Mom
. How was the flight?”

“Well, obviously you cut it, but why on earth?”

Liz started to walk in the direction of the baggage claim. “I did it to support a friend who has cancer.”

“You couldn’t wait until after the wedding?”

“I could, but I didn’t.”

Liz’
s mother kept step beside her now with no hopes of letting up. Her father dropped back, apparently not yet convinced this other woman could possibly be his daughter.

“I assume you bought a wig,” Barbara said.

“No, I haven’t done that.”

“Well, you must
. You won’t walk down the aisle tomorrow like that.”

“Mom, no one’s interested in me
. I’m not the bride.”

“Oh, they’re interested
. They’ll be checking out the groom’s blood-line. What did Chase say?”

“He said I looked like Ben Kingsley.”

“Well, he’s right.”

Her mother talked about nothing else all the way back to the hotel
. They pulled into the hotel entrance behind a large Budweiser delivery truck. Liz told the valet that they would only be a few minutes.

“Mom,
we’re supposed to be at the bridesmaids’ luncheon in thirty minutes. Liz hit the elevator button. “Dad, you’re on your own.” 

As Liz scrambled back to her room to refresh her make-up,
she noticed the message light on the phone receiver. She dialed Grandpa’s room and Grandma Hoole answered the phone.

“I’m back from the airport
. We’ll leave for the luncheon in about twenty minutes. Meet me downstairs.”

“Yes, dear,” Grandma said.

Liz could hear Grandpa in the background. Grandma Hoole spoke to him over the phone. “It was the wrong room, Nathan. Why would a beer truck call for you, of all people?”


Euphrasia, give me the phone,” Liz heard Grandpa say.

“Liz, they called me a few minutes ago from the front desk
. It seems there’s a delivery truck out front with two kegs of beer for Nathan Hoole. Do you know anything about that?”

“Oh, Grandpa, I’m sure that’s supposed to be delivered out at the beach
. I’ll run down and take care of it,” Liz said.

A tall slender man with a wisp of hair and a rather caustic voice approached Liz at the front desk when she inquired about the beer truck
. “Madame,” he said, “I need to speak to you a moment.”

Liz glanced between him and the entrance, where she saw the rear view of a burly man in a B
udweiser uniform go out the front door.

“That man,”
she said, a bit frantically, “I need to stop that man.”

“Ma
dame,” the concierge remained insistent. Liz paused long enough to see that he had
manager
on his name tag. “While we don’t object to guests taking a brown bag to their rooms, kegs are quite unacceptable.”

Liz could see the Budweiser man climbing into his truck and she called
desperately to the door man, “Stop that truck. Don’t let that beer truck leave.”

Several people in the front lobby stopped what they were doing to look in her
direction, and the manager, appearing flustered, followed her patiently, as one might trail a small child misbehaving in public.

BOOK: The Quaker Café
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