Mother of Prevention (20 page)

I laughed. “I’ll bet I can guess who chose the menu.”

She grinned. “Nothing like a well-balanced meal.”

The girls ran to tell Harry that Mazi was home and she was all right. I followed Madge out to the kitchen and watched her put napkins and condiments on the table.

“I need to apologize. I was too self-centered to notice anything strange about Mazi’s behavior, but you did. I’m sorry I didn’t trust your instincts.”

Madge put plates on the table. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve never been around anyone who is addicted. You wouldn’t have known the symptoms if you tripped over them.”

I shook my head. “That’s no excuse. You noticed right away.”

She looked out the kitchen window, not answering. I wondered what I had said wrong.

“Madge? Are you all right?”

She turned to face me. “I wasn’t always a pillar of faith, Kate. I recognized an addiction because I had the same problem once. Hers wasn’t the addiction I suffered, but it was an addiction, and I certainly knew the symptoms.”

My mouth dropped. Madge? The leader of the Women’s Missionary Union, a dozen committees under her belt, president of the kitchen committee?

“That’s right. But alcohol, Scotch, was my addiction. I should have caught the difference between alcohol addiction and pills in Mazi’s behavior. I knew something was wrong, but I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

“Oh, Madge. I never dreamed. Neil never mentioned—”

“Neil never knew. It was long ago and at a time in my life where I didn’t know up from down. I was young, on my own and fell into the wrong crowd. I met Harry and he introduced me to God. I’ve never gone back to my former lifestyle, but that’s only through grace.”

I smiled. “You’ll be glad to know Mazi has now met God, too.”

Madge broke into a smile. “Wonderful news. I’m so glad.”

“Yeah, me, too.” I picked up a carrot stick and nibbled on it. “I’ve really enjoyed having you here.”

She grinned. “I know I’ve gotten on your nerves. I tend to do that, but I’ve always appreciated you as a daughter-in-law. I never want to lose you, Kate. I hope you know that.”

I swallowed. Never in this life had I ever expected to hear her admit that. “You won’t lose me, Madge. I’m family. You have me for better or for worse.”

“Even when you remarry?”

“I’m not going to remarry.”

“You will—and you should. Neil would want you to be happy. Just don’t forget me and Harry. We love you, too.”

I was so touched by her admission I was speechless.

She reached down and moved the saltshaker a few inches, looking at me sideways. “I cleaned the garage.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it before I said, “That’s nice. I’m sure it needed it.”

She laughed. “Almost bit your tongue on that one, didn’t you?”

I dredged up a weak smile. “Well, you didn’t have to do that. I wanted you to relax and have fun, not spend all your time cleaning up my messes.”

She placed a platter of chicken strips on the table. “Tell you what, Kate. If you ever give it up here and move back to Oklahoma, just give us a call. Your mother and I can have you packed and moved in a day. I’ll say this for Kay—she’s one pain in the neck, but she’s a hard worker.”

After lunch the girls carried the pictures they had colored across the hedge to Mazi’s. I tagged along, carrying a plate of leftover chicken and corn dogs. Only traces of fog remained.

Madge and Harry were off sightseeing with someone they had met at church. I knew they would soon be going home. Life would be back to normal, and I’d be glad, but I realized I would miss them.

Mazi opened the door and made a big fuss over the girls and their paintings. She posted the colorful drawings on the refrigerator door using ladybug magnets. Even Kelli was satisfied with the showing.

The girls hovered over Mazi, as if they, too, realized how close we had come to losing her. I wanted to ask if Warren had called, but I was afraid to. It would hurt her to admit he hadn’t cared enough to check in.

I wanted to wring his neck.

The doorbell rang in the middle of all the confusion and Mazi insisted on answering.

“I’m not an invalid.” She bit into a corn dog and set off for the foyer. A moment later I heard a man’s voice. When I went to look, I could barely see the newcomer for the enormous bouquet he held in his hand.

“Oh! Oh, my!” Both hands covered Mazi’s mouth, her eyes as round as baseballs. “For me. Warren?”

Warren edged his way inside, and I cleared a place on the walnut table in the foyer so he could set the vase down. The house was starting to look like a funeral parlor. Straightening, he grinned. “There you go. I bought the biggest bouquet the florist had.” He set his suitcase down and took off his hat. “Nothing but the best for you, Mazi.”

“Oh, my. I
see
you did. Warren! They’re lovely.”

Well. I learned right then and there love comes in varying sizes. Some flashy and showy, others in quiet desperation. When all is said and done there is no pat explanation of love.

Mazi’s husband turned several shades of pink. He reached out and took her hand. “You’re looking good, Mazi. Healthy as a May hedge in bloom.”

She tittered. Honestly. Tittered.

“Why, thank you, Warren. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

I gathered the girls and they said goodbye and gave Mazi a final hug. I reached out and touched her arm. I knew the Hollingsworths needed time alone. Warren had come through by the skin of his teeth.
Thank you, God.

“You’ll call if you need me, okay?”

“Sure.” She squeezed my shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not alone anymore.”

“You mean Warren’s here.”

“Him, too.”

I thought that was a good healthy admission that Mazi was on the right track. She’d be a powerful warrior. A powerful witness for the love of God.

She watched from her doorway as we crossed the hedge, and I turned for one last wave before going inside the house. The girls, having eaten grease for lunch, settled for vegetable soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. Madge and Harry
phoned to say they were going to be late. I’d given them a key so they could let themselves in.

The house settled down for the night. I sat by my bedroom window looking out on the quiet streets. I wasn’t afraid anymore. The fear, doubt and confusion that had been my steady companion the past few months was gone. And I knew to whom I owed the thanks.

I thought back over the events leading to this moment. I’d changed in ways I’d never thought possible. All my life I’d been a worrywart, afraid of everything. Afraid of life itself. Even worse, I’d been turning my daughters into miniature, frightened replicas of myself. I shook my head, thinking of the damage I could have done to them if I’d continued that sort of irrational behavior.

The move to California had been good for me in many ways. I’d been pushed out of my comfort zone. Forced to make decisions, to do things the old Kate couldn’t have done. I’d failed occasionally. My thoughts turned to the night I’d sat in the empty church wallowing in defeat. I’d let Madge cause me to doubt myself, to doubt what I’d accomplished.

Sitting beside Mazi’s hospital bed had forced me to realize that life is a series of wins and losses. But through it all God is there, lifting us up, carrying us over the rough spots. I knew now whether we lived in California or in Oklahoma we would be all right because God would be with us.

I could do all things through Christ.

I thought of California, land of opportunity. I’d come, I’d seen, I’d survived. And now I wanted to go home.

Slipping to my knees, I allowed tears to fall for what I hoped would be a finale to my folly.

“Dear God. I am so sorry. I know I was wrong, and I’m asking You to forgive me. I’ve tried to do it on my own and I couldn’t. Now I’m through being in charge.

“If I die in a plane crash, or if You do call me to serve in Africa or Bosnia, or any other of the one hundred and one
different things I’ve worried about, I accept Your will because, Father, I do not want to live out of Your will. I only ask that if it happens, You won’t leave me alone.”

And in the still small voice I’ve silently heard so many times, the answer echoed back to me.

My dear child. When have I ever left you alone?

O
ne of my favorite things has been and remains to be watching an airplane take off—that I’m still on the ground goes without saying. When Neil and I first married, we’d pack a picnic lunch and drive to a dirt road close to the airport. On a sunny day we’d spread an old army blanket over the hood of his pickup, and we’d lie like sunning lizards, staring up into the wild blue. The roar of the powerful engines would seep through our bones. Jets lifted off half a mile from our vantage point, and we watched the big aircraft climb and climb until there would be nothing left but a thin vapor trail, way way up.

The girls and I had said our goodbyes to Madge and Harry earlier.

“Kate, honey, don’t let Kelli stay out after dark.” Madge shook her head. “There’s a lot of crazies running around.”

Kelli’s eyes rounded. “Is a crazy person going to get me?”

I drew my daughter under my protective wing. “No, honey. Maws is being goofy.”

Kelli eyed her grandmother, and Madge caved. “Well, of course your mother isn’t going to let anything happen to you.” She leaned closer and gave me another hug.

“Come on, Madge. The security line’s past the door.”

“Hold your britches, Harry. I’m coming. I’m coming already.” Madge gave me a devious wink. “The old coot.”

“I heard that.”

She’d nudged Harry to move up in line. “Get moving. I’m right behind you.”

So now the girls and I were parked on an access road, lying on the hood of my car. The aircraft carrying my in-laws back home was nothing more than a tiny speck of vapor trail.

The girls and I had watched in silence.

Kelli heaved a deep sigh. “I’ll miss Maws and Paws, but I’m glad it’s just us again.” She snuggled closer and took my hand. “Just us family.”

“Mmm, me too, honey. Me, too.” I’d miss Madge and Harry, too. With them around, and Kelli and Kris, I’d always had a little piece of Neil remaining. And the house was never quiet when they were here, and never cleaner. Madge had organized every drawer, closet and cabinet, and I’d pit the sparkling-clean interior of my deep freeze up against any woman’s in the Bay Area.

Planes systematically took off and soared. We could feel the powerful engines even at this distance, and I relished the familiarity. I lay on top of the hood, eyes closed. It all seemed to fall into place now.

The house was half paid off.

I was slowly but surely coming to grips with the fact that Neil was gone—the best part of my life, but not the only part.

And someday, God willing, my life with the girls would take on new dimensions. With the sun warming my face, I thought
about the poignantly sweet verse in Ecclesiastes. “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.”

A time to plant

And a time to pluck what is planted;

A time to kill

And a time to heal;

A time to break down

And a time to build up;

A time to weep

And a time to laugh.

“A time to mourn, and a time to dance…”

Lying here, with the warm sun on my face, I was filled with an overpowering sense of God’s miraculous love.

What I did from this day forward would depend on my choices. I could remain here and adjust or I could go back to Oklahoma, back to deal with old memories in familiar surroundings. Basically, the world was mine once more. I prayed God would give me wisdom and understanding, to do His will and nothing less.

Good or bad, I think I finally had my head screwed on straight.

“Just put it down over here,” Mazi called to a man loading the moving van.

I paused, taking a second hitch at a heavily loaded cardboard box I was carrying. The van had arrived a little before six this morning; all but the last remaining household items were loaded. I’d listed the house last week, and already we had two interested buyers.

Kelli came out of the house carrying Sailor in his cage. Kris had her arms full of CDs as she herded her younger sister and the cage into the car.

Mazi paused, pillaging a clean tissue out of her jeans pocket and dabbing her eyes. She’d been blubbering nonstop since early this morning.

I set the heavy box on the van tailgate and turned to comfort her. Moving day was never easy.

“Ah, come on, Maz. You promised you wouldn’t cry.”

“I know.” She blew her nose. “I lied. God forgive me.”

Last night we’d hardly slept. We’d sat up drinking diet sodas and talking long into the night. Mazi was driving to Oklahoma with me and the girls, and helping us to get settled in an apartment until I could buy a house. The cramped situation was only temporary. Two houses in our old neighborhood were for sale; one I had admired and loved for years. It was larger than the one Neil and I had previously owned, with lots of closets and storage space. The girls would be back in their old school. Life seemed to be going pretty smoothly right now.

“Have you talked to Warren about moving?”

Nodding, Mazi summoned a weak smile. “He finally admitted that he left me alone too much, and this morning, before he kissed me goodbye, he told me if that second house in your old neighborhood hasn’t sold, he’d take a look at it.”

Well, maybe I’d be wrong about Warren, the coldhearted mackerel; the possibility was entirely valid. I’d been known to be wrong a lot lately. If he’d move Mazi to Oklahoma, I’d forgive him for the years of neglect.

And maybe he knew Mazi would do the same.

Having her in Oklahoma would be the best of both worlds. My eardrum was healing nicely, and the doctor said in another month I could return to teaching and travel. Flying no longer scared me. I’d discovered there are worse things in life than death. Mazi would be living three doors away, looking after the girls when I was away. No box elder hedge to step over, no swaying ground beneath our feet. No smell of rotting garbage.
There’d be nothing to separate me and my best friend but Okie sidewalks.

“Then why are you crying?” I demanded. This was a happy day!

“Because.” Her face corkscrewed and she started bawling. “I’m so
happy!
”

“Goofus.” I hugged her and headed back to the house for my purse and keys. The girls had loaded Sailor’s cage into the car and were anxiously tooting the horn. Postcards of Cliff House, Chinatown and Fisherman’s Wharf were tightly packed away, lovely memories of our time in San Francisco.

I took a minute to wander back through the empty rooms. The house was a good home, even though it needed repairs. Oddly enough, this parting didn’t feel the same as when I’d left the house that Neil and I had shared. Of course, nothing felt the same, but then, it wasn’t supposed to.

New life.

New beginnings.

I reached for my purse and then slipped on my sunglasses. Just before I closed and locked the door, I stuck my head into the foyer and whispered, “I’ll pray that the right person buys you, that you will be a home to some lucky family, not merely a house.”

Minutes later Mazi piled into the passenger seat and fastened her belt. “What have I forgotten? I know I’m forgetting something.”

“You took the cats to the kennel?”

“Yes—yes. Shut the windows and turned off the coffeepot. Set the security alarm.”

“Then we’re set.”

She heaved a happy sigh. “You’re right. We’re set.”

I slid behind the wheel and waited to follow behind the large moving van. The cross-country trip would take the better part of three days, but nobody, even Kris and Kelli, minded. The Madisons were going home.

As I pulled away from the curb, I glanced back in the rearview mirror, watching the ivy-covered cottage with its charming porch boxes gradually recede. No, nobody minded leaving.

Personally I think all of us were anxious to see what God had up His sleeve next.