Authors: Lori Wick
Tags: #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Christian, #Family, #Fiction, #Christian Fiction, #Sisters, #INSPIRATIONAL ROMANCE, #General, #Religious
"Oh, Marrell, no."
"Yes. He's gone. Can you come? I need to see Shay. Can you bring her?"
"We'll leave right now."
"Okay. I'll see you."
By the time Oliver replaced the phone, Shay was behind him.
"Oliver?" Her voice was frightened.
He turned and stared at her. "That was Marrell. Paul is dead."
Shay's hand flew to her mouth.
"I have to go to her," she gasped.
"Yes. She wants you."
For a full minute, she couldn't think. She put toys in the diaper bag and then realized there were no diapers.
"Maybe I'd better go and let you come with the baby."
"No." Oliver was adamant. "I'll drive you."
As if in a cloud, they worked together to gather the baby's things and headed down to the car. Shay could hardly believe what they were doing. Her last thought as Oliver pulled from the curb was thankfulness that they'd never found a new house. The apartment was just a few minutes' drive from the base.
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Fourteen
Th
e sleeping pills were no help to Marrell becauseshe couldn't bring herself to take any. The girls
were still crying at 10:30, so Marrell had insisted
they each take a pill. Oliver and Shay were still at the house. The
girls had roomed together and given Delancey's room to Oliver,
Shay, and the baby.
From her place by the window, Marrell looked back at the bed. She had lain down for a while, but it felt too lonely and cold. She had such a headache and knew she needed a little something to eat. The bowl on the table had peaches and apples in it, and suddenly a peach with milk and sugar sounded good to her. Not bothering with her robe, she moved to the door. She stopped as soon as it was open. Someone was lying in the hall.
"Marrell?" It was Shay's voice.
"Are you sleeping there?"
"I thought you might need me."
"I'm going to the kitchen."
"Okay." Shay pushed to her feet, picked up her pillow, and followed her friend. "Do you want me to fix you something?"
"I'll get it." Marrell flicked on the light.
Shay sat at the kitchen table and studied her hands where they lay on the top. Marrell brought a knife, bowl, milk, and sugar over and then reached for the fruit bowl and a napkin. Shay watched her as she began to cut.
"Do you want something to drink with that?"
"Ice water sounds good."
Shay rose to get it without comment. Marrell ended up at the sink to rinse the juice from her hands, but she eventually sat back
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down and had a few bites of food. The milk was cold with the combination of sweet peaches, and she felt a little better.
"Do you know what my grandmother told me?" she asked her friend. "She started this study on heaven when she learned of the cancer, and she said there's no need for the sun in heaven. God's glory is that bright."
"And Paul's there."
"Yeah. Oh, Shay, I would never have survived this if he hadn't come to Christ. Think of the peace I have. I know where he is and that I'll see him again."
Shay's throat was too tight to let any words out. She listened to her friend sigh.
"I can't quite figure out what I'm going to do without him. I never thought about having to be on my own. I mean, he was in Germany just a year ago, but I knew he was coming back."
"Oliver and I will be here for you."
Marrell nodded. "Did he get the baby to sleep?"
"Yes. He emptied one of D.J.'s dresser drawers and put it on the floor. Jana thought she was in her crib and fell sound asleep."
Marrell played with her bowl of peaches, no longer hungry. She drank a bit of water, and Shay watched her eyes fill with tears.
"I don't think a week went by that he didn't tell me a new verse he had found." Her voice shook uncontrollably, but she went on. "He was so excited about his study in Romans." Tears made a steady path down her cheeks. "He was the most romantic man I've ever known, Shay. Just the other night he brushed my hair for an hour and then painted my toenails. Did you know he used to do that, paint my toenails?"
"I think the girls mentioned it one time."
"Oh, Shay, what am I going to do?"
Shay moved close, and they clung together and cried. Marrell didn't know when she had felt such pain. There had been no argument as to whether or not Oliver and Shay should stay; Marrell had only been relieved. Oliver had gone home to pick up a few things, and the girls had been glad to have the baby to distract them.
"I think I'm finally tired now," Marrell confessed, sitting back and wiping at her face.
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"Okay," Shay handed her a tissue. "I'll clean up in here you."
"Or you can leave it. I can get it in the morning." Shay didn't answer but said goodnight, waited for Marrelltoleave, and then quietly put the kitchen to rights. Her pillowwasin her hand as she put out the lights and headed back downthehall. Marrell's door was already shut, so she was unaware oftheway her friend once again lay down in the hall to be near her.
"Mrs. Bishop," Marrell spoke tentatively into the phone, "this is Marrell."
"Oh, Marrell." She sounded surprised. "How are you?"
"Mrs. Bishop, Paul is dead." Marrell knew no other way to say it. "There was an accident, and he died last night."
"Paul's dead," she heard the woman whisper.
"Yes. I'm so sorry."
The cry of anguish and suffering that came from the other end of the line brought Marrell's heart into her throat.
"I just got him back." The voice of Paul's mother rose to a wail. "How can God do this to us?"
Marrell's hand was on her mouth as she heard the phone being dropped and voices in the background. Her mother-in- law's screams could be heard as well as the voice of another person. Marrell was on the verge of hanging up when someone barked on the line.
"Hello, who is this?"
"It's Marrell Bishop," she said softly. "Is this Mr. Bishop?"
"Yes."
"Paul is dead." She was forced to say it again. "There was an accident on the base, and he died last night."
The silence was almost too much for Marrell's bruised heart.
"My boy is dead?"
"Yes." Marrell began to sob. "He died very quickly. There was no suffering. We haven't made arrangements yet, but I can call you again."
"Yes. All right."
Marrell didn't know what to say next. She could still hear Arlene Bishop in the background, her lament sounding inconsolable.
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"I'll let you go now, Mr. Bishop."
"Yes. All right."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Marrell put the phone down and sat with her head against the headboard. She didn't think anyone else was up; it was only nine o'clock in Florida. Marrell had finally fallen asleep around two but hadn't been able to make it past five-thirty. Her eyes felt gritty, and she wanted some coffee but let it go for now. Shifting around so the light would be right, she reached for her Bible.
"Are you awake?" Delancey whispered a little after six o'clock.
"Yes."
The younger girl breathed deeply, fighting tears. "It's all my fault, Mic. Dad's death is all my fault."
Mackenzie shifted around in the bed to look at her. Delancey was flat on her back, her eyes on the ceiling.
"That's not true."
"It is. Dad wanted me to believe for so long, and I wouldn't. This is God's punishment for me."
"Do you know what Dad would say if he heard that?"
Delancey hadn't thought of that, so she didn't answer.
"He would say God's not like that. I don't need Jesus the way Mom and Dad did, D.J., but they still love me. I know they do."
"What if we do need Jesus, Mackenzie? What if we do?"
"That's fine," her sister said. "You do what you need to, Delancey, but Dad loves you no matter what. Don't you forget that."
Delancey might have been comforted by those words if she'd had any idea what she was supposed to do, but she was at a painful loss. She rolled on her side and stared at the door, her mind registering only one thing:
My dad is gone.
Hundreds of mourners attended Colonel Paul Bishop's funeral on June 9, 1982. The service was held at their church, although the theme was military, and Marrell was overwhelmed by the support. The base relief group, along with dozens of church family members, came along to see to almost every need.
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Shay and Oliver had been at the house every day since the night Marrell had called them, but now the funeral was over. Marrell and the girls were alone.
"Why didn't Grandma and Grandpa Bishop come?" Delancey asked.
"I just don't think Grandpa Bishop can handle it, D.J. He cut himself off from your dad for so long, and then when he had a chance to have him again, he pushed him away. I'm sure his regret is huge."
"I think I hate him. How could anyone treat Dad that way?"
"Your dad hated him for a lot of years too, but he eventually learned there was no point in that."
For a time they ate in silence, but Marrell had things on her mind, and the girls had to hear them.
"We have to be off the base in 30 days," she plunged right in. "Oliver has checked on our old apartment building, and the woman is going to call him back. If she has room, you could stay in the same school district."
Delancey didn't think she ever wanted to go to school again, but she kept her mouth shut. When Mackenzie didn't reply either, Marrell went on.
"I want us to try and get back to that apartment building. I feel better about that than anything else. What do you think?"
"Why do we have to move so soon?" Mackenzie asked.
"SOP," Marrell shrugged, giving the military reply the girls had grown up with. Standard Operating Procedures. "I wish we could have longer, but in some ways that might be harder."
The girls thought about this for a silent moment.
"Has Colonel Barlowe gotten back to you yet about the other driver?"
"With something new, no. He was heavily intoxicated with no insurance at all."
"Are you angry with him, Mom?"
"No, I'm not. I'm not happy about it, but there is no use hating the man." Secretly Marrell thought about God's sovereignty. That perfect attribute was the only reason Marrell didn't hate anyone. Her husband was gone because it was God's time, not because a drunk had hit him. But right now that type of comment only upset the girls, so she let it go. Besides, there were other things she needed to bring up that were going to be upsetting enough.
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"I'm going to wait until we've moved," Marrell plunged in again, "but just as soon as we do that, I'm going to start looking for a job."
"Why so soon?" Mackenzie was clearly not happy.
"Because I want to leave as much of our savings intact as possible."
"You said Dad was insured."
"He was, but I want to leave that for big things. My getting a job is going to come sooner or later, Micki. We've got to face that. If you girls were already out of school, I probably wouldn't work for a long time, but this way I can provide for our monthly needs and leave the insurance money for your college education, special things, and unexpected large expenses. I spoke with Oliver about it, and he thought it a sound idea. Soon after the Fourth of July, I'm just going to start looking for a job. If nothing comes up, then we might have to dip into the insurance money, but like I said, I won't if I don't have to."
The girls were surprised speechless. Their mother was a constant presence in their lives. She cooked, ran them places in the car, cleaned the house, did the laundry, and loved them unconditionally. But their father had paid the bills and been the one to read the fine print when anything was in question. They never thought their mother stupid, but both found it surprising that she had given this much thought to the insurance money.
"Is it a lot of money, Mom?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"I don't want to tell you that right now. If people question you-and some are rude enough to do so-then you can honestly say you don't know."
The sisters looked at each other.
"We'll be fine," Marrell said softly. "I believe this with all my heart."
No one was hungry for any of the many desserts people had brought, not even Mackenzie for chocolate cake or brownies. The three did the dishes in near silence, and just as they were finishing, the phone rang. It was Oliver for Marrell.
"Hi," she said after she took the phone from Delancey's hand.
"Are you in the middle of dinner?"
"Just finished."
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"Good. I just got off the phone with your former landlady. She has an apartment opening up in August. It might turn out to be July, but she promised no later than August 1."