The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Caught (11 page)

No response. He jerked his duffle bag out of the backseat.

“Oh. The meeting. I'm sorry, Denny.What happened? ”

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about. But if you've gotta go . . .”

Argh!
I did have to go. But I wanted to stay and hear what happened. Unless— “Denny, come with me. We can talk in the car. I promise we won't stay long at the Smiths, but it'd be a chance to see Mark for a few minutes too. I know he'd rather see you than just me.”

Denny was silent a long moment. I knew he didn't want to get back in the car after a long day.
Plus
a meeting with the principal. Maybe I should forget the salad, phone Nony, and tell her to go with the leftovers.

“OK.” Denny walked around to the other side of the car. “But you drive.”

I hopped in the driver's seat before he could change his mind. Decided to skip the bread. No way was I going to ask Denny to wait ten minutes in the car while I stood in line at Dominick's. “So. Tell me about your meeting.” I glanced sideways at him as we waited at a red light. “Bad news? ” I steeled myself.

“No.”

“No? Then what—? ” A car horn blared behind me. The light had turned green. “Don't be so impatient, buddy,” I muttered. We crossed Howard Street and headed north into Evanston.Within a few blocks, we were passing a rash of new condos going up.

“Good news, actually . . . I think.”

“Denny Baxter!” I felt like slugging him. “For somebody with good news, you're acting like your dog just got run over!
What
good news? ”

“Turns out the AD quit. Resigned. He's already gone. Kinda funny. They didn't say why.” He frowned, as if rolling the information over in his mind.

Huh?
I opened my mouth to say,
“That's it? ”
But Denny started up again. “The district offered me the position of athletic director for West Rogers High. They'd like me to start ASAP.”

My mind did a spin. “Denny!
Athletic director?
That's wonderful! ”

“Yeah, guess so. I hardly know what to think.”

“You
guess
so! It's awesome! They knew your talents were being wasted as an assistant coach. Wow. A big pay increase, right? ”

He snorted. “Don't know about
big
. This is still public high school. But, yeah, definitely an increase.To tell you the truth, Jodi, I don't know how I feel about it. The job I'd really love is head coach. But . . . AD? That's mainly administrative. I wouldn't be out there coaching. I'd be hiring and firing, wrestling with schedules, dealing with conflicts. What I like is working with the kids. Coaching.”

“Oh, Denny.” I hardly knew what to say.We drove in silence as Chicago Avenue merged into Sheridan Road along Northwestern University. I finally put on my left-turn blinker at Lincoln and pulled up in front of the Sisulu-Smith's ivy-encrusted home in the middle of the block. I shut off the engine.y insides danced with excitement, but I tried to sound sympathetic. “Look.We can talk about it some more after we drop off this food. But I just want you to know—I'm really proud of you, Denny.”

I didn't dare say more. But what I was
thinking
was, maybe this was God's ‘ram in the bush' if my job got sacrificed on the altar of budget cuts.

NONY TOOK THE SALAD with a warm hug. “Thank you, Jodi. The meals help a lot.” I followed her into the kitchen while Denny dropped into the front room where Mark was parked in a recliner.

“Hey, man,” I heard Denny say. “What's with the double eye patches? You're taking this pirate thing too far.”

Bad joke, Denny.
But I grabbed Nony's arm. “What's happening, Nony? Why does Mark have both eyes patched? I thought . . .”

She sighed. “I'm sorry, Jodi. I should have called somebody, let Yada Yada know. Asked you to pray. But it's just so . . . crazy sometimes.”

“But what happened? ”

She set the plastic bowl in the center of the square wooden table in the kitchen and got out five stoneware plates. Her usually sculpted hair was hidden beneath a black silk head wrap, matching a pair of wide-legged, silky black pants. “Mark's doctor referred him to an eye specialist at the University of Illinois. I took him today; we were down there almost four hours.” Her lip trembled. “They did a dozen different tests, but . . . the ophthalmologist doubts that they can save his left eye. He has major retinal detachment and . . . lots of hemorrhage from the beating. They did some laser staples today—oh, Jodi. It was so painful. I could hardly bear to watch.”

I took the flatware from her hand and set the table. “But why are both eyes bandaged? I thought the right one—”

“It's all right. But the doctor bandaged both eyes to keep the left one totally still. He's supposed to stay immobile for the next five days, which on top of everything else . . .” Her voice broke.

“Oh, Nony.” I wrapped her in a hug and let her cry for a few minutes.

She sniffed, grabbed a tissue, and wiped her face. “We'll be all right. It's hardest on Mark, because he's more aware now. But he can't see, and he's not supposed to move.”

“Hard on you too.” I got glasses from the cupboard and filled them with ice and water from the dispenser in the door of the top of the-line refrigerator. “You end up having to be his eyes, his hands and feet, his link to the world. Right? ”

She looked at me gratefully. “Exactly.” The front door opened, and I heard Marcus and Michael tromp noisily into the house. “Oh, there's Hoshi and the boys. She took them to the park.”

“That's OK.We've really got to go. I've got hungry kids at home too. Oh.” I grimaced sheepishly. “I meant to bring some crusty bread to go with that salad, but . . . it's a long story. Sorry.”

She took the cover off the bowl and smiled. “Looks fabulous. We'll be fine.”

I stopped into the living room. Denny was leaning forward, elbows on his knees in a straight-back chair, talking to Mark. I gave Mark a hug. “Sorry to take Denny away, Mark. Did he tell you his good news? ”

“What good news? ” Mark's speech was still slow, a little slurred.

Denny cut his eyes at me, then turned back to Mark. “Well, don't know yet if it's good news. Got offered the AD job at West Rogers High.Total surprise.”

Mark seemed to digest this. Then a grin slowly lit up his battered face. “Athletic director? ” He held out his hand, searching for Denny's. The two men's hands met in a street grip. “Awesome, man. Congrats.”

“JODI, PLEASE,” Denny said when we got back in the car. “Don't tell a lot of people about this job offer yet, OK? I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I need to think about it.
We
need to pray about it.”

“I'm sorry.” Was I? I wanted to get on the phone and tell Yada Yada the good news. Tell my folks, tell Denny's folks—yeah, the Senior Baxters would be happy.
“About time,”
his father would say. But I needed to respect Denny's process. “Just . . . talk to me, Denny. Let me in on what you're thinking, OK? ”

“I will.”

But he didn't. Not much, anyway, for the next few days. “Wish I could talk to Mark,” he said. “I mean,
really
talk to him about it. I need a brother who can give me some advice. But I don't know if he's up for that kind of thing yet.”

That hurt.What was I? Chopped liver?

Wait a minute, Jodi. You've got a whole circle of sisters you talk to, talk with, pray with. Don't deny that kind of input and support for Denny.
OK. I decided not to be offended. “What about Peter Douglass? Or Pastor Clark? You'll see both of them at the men's breakfast on Saturday.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. Maybe so.”

The weekend rolled around. Third Saturday in July. Josh took off early, catching the el to Jesus People. JPUSA was refurbishing the emergency shelter the group managed for homeless women with children and needed all the volunteer help they could get. I dropped off Denny at Uptown so I could have the car, then called Ruth. In one way, it felt like a reckless thing to do.What if all that stuff I'd found on the Internet came popping out of my mouth? On the other hand, I really wanted to stay close to Ruth during this pregnancy. She was going to need all the support she could get.

“Ruth! It's Jodi.What are you doing this morning? Can I take you out for coffee or something? ”

She groaned right in my ear. “Coffee, schmoffee. The smell still makes me want to puke. But you can take me shopping.Will Ben take me? No. He says to buy baby furniture is foolishness right now. So what, I said. Then he says—”

I laughed. “Shopping would be great, Ruth. I'll pick you up at ten.”

SHOPPING FOR BABY FURNITURE with Ruth was dizzying. And exhausting.We started out at Lazar's Juvenile Furniture on Lincoln Avenue, with a swing through Target's collection, then ended up at Golf Mill Shopping Center, gawking at cribs, bassinettes, and car seats at J. C. Penney. At her command, a harried sales clerk took apart an amazing contraption that was a stroller, infant carrier, and car seat all in one and put it together again to show her how it worked; then rolled her eyes when Ruth didn't buy. “
Nudnik,”
Ruth huffed as she propelled me to the next store. “We have to compare quality and prices at other stores, don't we? ”

“Only the best for the new grandchild, right? ” gloated a greedy male clerk as we hunted for price tags on matching oak furniture.

Ruth nailed him with a look. “We want your opinion,we'll ask.” Chastened, he backed up and tried to fade into the next display, the same furniture in cherry. “So. How much for just the crib? ” Ruth hollered after him.

I pulled Ruth toward the infant clothes. Onesies and booties would be safe.

“Do you know the sex of the baby? ” a young female clerk tried pleasantly as Ruth held up a blue outfit, then a pink outfit.

“What is this, an I.Q. test? ” Ruth shot back. “I'll take one of each.”

This was getting ridiculous. “No, she won't. Here.” I handed the clerk the same outfit in mint green. “Pay up, Ruth, then let's find a place to sit down before your feet fall off.” Or mine.

We found the food court in the mall and gave in to the temptation of a magnificently huge, gooey cinnamon bun, which Ruth sawed in half with a plastic knife. Coffee for me,milk for Ruth. She blathered on about baby this and baby that, due near Christmas, wouldn't that be fun—then suddenly she stopped in midchew.

“I have to find the restroom. Right now.”

She headed toward the sign for Women so fast I lost sight of her by the time I grabbed her bulgy purse and her purchases. “Ruth? ” I called to the row of stalls. “Are you OK? ”

No answer. Then a stall door swung open and Ruth came out, her eyes terrified, her face pale beneath the frowsy dark hair.

“Jodi. Drive me to the hospital. I'm . . . spotting.”

10

S
hould have called an ambulance. I didn't have a clue where the closest hospital was! But Ruth said “Golf Road and Gross Pointe” through gritted teeth, so I headed that way and ended up at Rush North Shore Medical Center. Pulled right up to the emergency room entrance, ran in, and gasped, “Pregnant . . . bleeding . . . ” Two orderlies immediately ran out with a wheelchair. They seemed momentarily confused when they saw Ruth, but they gently lifted her out of the car, into the chair, and whisked her away.

I parked and called Ben. Then I called home and left a message on the answering machine, all the while praying,
Oh God, Oh God, don't let anything happen to Ruth or her baby.
Ben showed up in twenty minutes, groused, “I'm the husband,” and they let him into the inner sanctum. I saw the intake nurse and the receptionist lift their eyebrows at each other, then follow him with their eyes as his white wavy hair and slight stoop disappeared beyond the double doors.

Yeah, well, guess it wasn't every day a pregnant woman came in whose husband looked like he qualified for Social Security.

Ben came out half an hour later. “They're going to keep her overnight for observation. She told me to tell you to go home.”

“But what about the baby? Did she . . . miscarry? ”

Ben shook his head, his face a big frown. As he turned away, I heard him mumble, “Better if she had. Better to lose the baby this way . . .”

I W0AS STILL STEAMING WHEN I GOT HOME.

“Ben Garfield makes me
so mad
, Denny. I mean, he practically said he wished Ruth would have a miscarriage! That is so . . . so . . .” I couldn't think of a word terrible enough. Not one I dared say aloud, anyway. “That man is so selfish. Just doesn't want to be bothered with a baby.”

Denny looked at me sideways.We were sitting on the back porch swing munching tuna sandwiches and washing them down with iced tea, while I tried to catch him up on what had happened that morning. “Take it easy on Ben, Jodi. Seems to me like you freaked a couple of weeks ago when I mentioned us having another kid.”

“That's not fair.” I stuck out my lip. “We were talking hypothetical. Ben and Ruth have an actual muffin in the oven.”

Denny dropped it. We finished our sandwiches, idly pushing the swing back and forth. After a while, he said, “Wonder what Ben meant by ‘better to lose the baby
this
way'? ”

I didn't have a clue. Come to think of it, it was a strange thing to say. I decided to change the subject. “You guys have a good time at the men's breakfast? ”

“Yeah. Nobody showed up from New Morning, though. I was kind of disappointed, but as it turned out, it was for the best.”

“What do you mean? ”

Denny drained the last of his iced tea. “Well, Pastor Clark brought up the fact that we've maxed out our space at Uptown. Sometimes we even run out of chairs, and people have to stand.”