Who Is My Shelter? (43 page)

Jodi looked shocked, then she burst out laughing. “The Baby Baxters? Is that what you call Josh and Edesa?”

“Oops. Did I say that?” Now I was laughing. “Uh, that's what Precious calls them. Guess it kinda stuck.
Anyway
. . .” I took another sip of weak coffee, made a face, and set it aside. “I don't want to talk about Shawanda. You probably know what's going on with Philip, since he was staying at your house before he left for Virginia—”

Jodi nodded. “Pretty much. He and Denny talked a couple more times last week, and I know he decided to sell out his share of the business and pay off the debts and everything. It's amazing. But Denny kind of hinted that Philip's had a couple of serious talks with you, right?” She raised an eyebrow. “Anything you want to tell me?”

I brought out the two notes Philip had written to me, trying to fill her in on the roller coaster of emotions I'd been through that week. We talked a long time, so long that Denny finally gave P.J. and Paul a ride back to the House of Hope along with Josh, Edesa, and Gracie, while Jodi and I ended up at The Coffee Cup for a couple of lattes and oversize cranberry-nut muffins so I could also bring her up to date on the drama going on with Lucy and her long-lost family.

“It's a miracle, Jodi! Think about it. Philip meets Will his last day in the hospital, Philip agrees to mentor Will in some of his classes, Will casually mentions his grandmother is looking for her long-lost sister—who turns out to be Lucy Tucker, of all people! After sixty-plus years! But Lucy's being weird about it. Almost as if she didn't want to be found. Or doesn't want to give up her independence— or
something
.”

“Well, like you said earlier, maybe she's just in shock.”

I shook my head. “I don't know, Jodi. Lucy's the most stubborn woman I've ever met.”

She snorted. “Except maybe Estelle. You know she gave Harry his ring back.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh yeah. And I noticed they didn't even sit together in church this morning. How silly is that? They're crazy about each other! But Estelle's got this notion in her head that it's either Harry or Leroy.”

Jodi shook her head, glanced at her watch, and sighed. “I know we better go, but if you've got a few more minutes, Gabby, I think we should pray. Let's put the whole kaboddle in God's lap and let Him sort it out!”

After dropping Jodi off at her house, I thought, Should've told
Jodi about Lee too
. I still needed to return his call. Just thinking about all the tangled relationships in my life was a recipe for a sure-fire headache—but after my long talk and prayer time with Jodi, I felt more at peace than I had all week.

Shawanda was at my door Sunday evening, all penitent, begging for another chance. I told her breaking the rule about no men at night was a serious matter and I had to talk to Mabel Turner about whether she'd disqualified herself for housing at House of Hope. She ran upstairs in tears and slammed the door. For two seconds my resolve to be “fair but firm” wavered and I almost followed her, wanting to say,
Okay, okay, we'll give you another chance
—which we might, but I made myself close my door and stick to my guns about talking to Mabel before I did anything. Besides, it wouldn't hurt for Shawanda to feel a little holy fear for a while.

Philip called while I was making supper and I was the one who answered the phone. “Oh, good, you're home tonight,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you too.”

I tensed a little. “Well, how's it going? Have you talked with your dad and uncle about a new business plan?”

“Not yet. Dad set up a meeting with Uncle Matt tomorrow morning. Not sure how long I can stay here at the house with the folks, though—it's kind of tense with my mother. She got all bent out of shape when I returned the money she'd given me. She's also mad that I sold out my half of the business to Fenchel, even though I explained it was the only way to get the lawsuits and the debt monkey off my back. She can't understand that, told me she could've bailed me out and I'd still have the business.”

I bit my lip, determined not to say anything. But Marlene Fairbanks's response didn't surprise me one iota. Then it just slipped out. “Proud of you for sticking to your guns, Philip. Time to move out of the nest.”

“Ouch. That's what I was trying to do by moving to Chicago. Thought it was Dad wanting to run my life, because Mom championed the move, you know. Don't know why it took me so long to realize
why
she was always taking my side against Dad— almost like divide and conquer. I got out from under Dad's thumb, but she still had her hooks in me. Always wanting to throw me a safety net.” He chuckled in my ear. “Wish you could've seen her face when I gave her money back—with interest. It wasn't pretty.”

I couldn't help it. I laughed aloud. “Oh dear. I better let you talk to the boys before I get myself in trouble . . . P.J.! Paul! It's your dad!”

“Gabby, wait. There's something else I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I scrunched the phone under my ear and resumed work on the chicken wraps I'd been making with leftover chicken and large flour tortillas. Paul poked his head into the kitchen, but I waved him away again.

“I went to church this morning.”

I nearly dropped the phone. “You—what? Went to church? Where?”

“Same one we used to attend from time to time. Briarwood Lutheran. But it seemed . . . different this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the boys probably told you I went to SouledOut that Sunday you were out of town and I was staying at your place. They wanted to go, so—”

“Yeah, they told me. I was glad you took them. But you didn't say anything about it, and you didn't come last Sunday when you were staying with the Baxters. So I figured it probably wasn't your thing.”

“Well, SouledOut was certainly different than anything I was used to. A bit loud. But I could see why the boys liked it—and why
you
like it. Everybody was so into it—the singing, everything. Not an audience with performers up front doing the religious stuff, but everybody participating. Like it was the greatest thing to spend Sunday morning with God and each other. I've thought about it several times since then—and this morning I just decided to go to church. Not sure exactly why . . . okay, it was partly to get out of this house since my mother is barely speaking to me. But—”

I could hear several clicks in my ear. Another call coming through.

“Gabby? Do you need to get that call?”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the caller ID.

Lee Boyer
.

chapter 41

I felt torn. Lee was going to think I was avoiding him! But . . . no, this was important. “It's all right,” I told Philip. “I can call them back. You were saying?”

“Okay. Anyway, the pastor's sermon was really good. Something about how we are created in God's image, but that image has been broken by sin and evil in the world, and it's our job to let God heal the brokenness and rediscover God's image in our lives—His qualities, His character, stuff like that.”

I had stopped rolling up the chicken wraps, astonished to hear Philip talking like this. “It does sound like a good sermon.”

“Yeah. Kind of hit me between the eyes. A lot of things in my life feel broken right now—our marriage primarily, but a lot of other stuff too. But the pastor said God wants to restore the stamp of His image on our lives. Gave me some hope that maybe it's not too late for me. To get things right, I mean.”

A long silence hung in the air. Coming from Philip, what he was saying sounded like a foreign language. At the same time, it reminded me of the strong sense I'd had not long ago, that it was God holding my broken heart together.

“Gabby? You still there?”

I found my voice. “Yes . . . yes, still here. Just thinking about what you said. I don't think it's ever too late, Philip. Not from God's point of view, anyway. But that brokenness you mentioned? That's not something we can fix on our own. Gotta let God do it. It's the only way.”

I called Lee back later that evening. Had to apologize several times for not getting back to him. Told him I'd spent Friday evening hunting for Lucy . . . Saturday overseeing a reunion between the streetwise old lady and her long-lost family . . . not to mention another tenant moving out and Shawanda already breaking the house rules. “It's just been a hectic weekend, Lee.” And that was without saying anything about the major moves in Philip's life that affected me and the boys.

“Okay. I understand, I guess. Just feels as if there's a lot going on in your life I only find out about after the fact. I would've been glad to help you look for Lucy when she went missing. Just call me, Gabby! I'm here for you, you know.”

“I know, Lee. I appreciate it.”

He wanted to set a date to see each other next weekend, but I hesitated. There was so much up in the air! Not knowing when—or if—Philip would return from Virginia. What it would mean if Lucy accepted the invitation to go live with her sister. Estelle maybe moving into an apartment with her son. Work on the newly empty apartment. Next weekend already felt like a zoo.

Not to mention the real question. Should I even be seeing Lee right now?

Wimp that I was, I put him off, telling him I'd know better what my weekend would look like later in the week, but I could tell he wasn't a happy camper.

Monday turned out to be another dreary, rainy, chilly November day—but at least the weather upped the odds that Lucy would still be at Manna House when I showed up for work. Will had said he would try to bring his grandmother again after his Monday classes. I met with Mabel first thing, bringing her up to date on the whole amazing story of Maggie Tucker Simple finding her long-lost sister by a series of almost miraculous clues pointing to our own Lucy.

Mabel's smile grew with the story. “That's God, Gabby. Has to be God.”

“Yeah, but I'm sure God knows that was the easy part. Convincing Lucy to accept her sister's invitation to come live with her—
that's
going to be the hard part.” We both laughed in agreement. “Okay, change of subject?”

I told her about Shawanda and her nighttime visitor. Good ol' Mabel. She said I ought to talk to Celia Jones and get
her
advice about whether this infraction was a deal-breaker, or whether the situation called for grace and a second chance. After all, she said, Celia was closer to Shawanda's situation than any of us, even though she'd been away that night. I was impressed that the director of the shelter was willing to defer to the advice of one of our “clients.” But that was Mabel. Treated our residents as individuals who just happened to be homeless, not a class of down-and-out women who had nothing to offer.

Paul stuck his head into my office after school to say the rain had stopped and he was taking Dandy for a walk around the block—and by the way, Will and his grandmother were upstairs in Shepherd's Fold talking to Lucy. Curious, I followed Paul and Dandy up to the main level as they headed for the front door. But Maggie and Lucy actually seemed to be talking to each other on the far side of the big room—or at least Lucy seemed to be listening as Maggie and Will talked to her, grunting and nodding from time to time. So I turned around and went back to my office—and when I got there, I closed the door and actually got down on my knees by my desk chair.

“Jesus,” I murmured aloud, “like they say at SouledOut, You've brought us too far to leave us now! Soften Lucy's heart, Lord. Help her to see
You
are the one who brought Maggie and Will to Chicago, to find her after all these years so she wouldn't be alone and out on the street in her final years.” Remembering how Jodi often prayed, I added, “Thank You, Lord, for everything You've done so far, and for everything You're
going
to do!”

I managed to catch Celia that evening as she came in the front door with groceries and asked if I could talk to her privately. After listening to the tale of Shawanda's nighttime visitor, the middle-aged grandmother pursed her lips and was quiet for a few minutes, as if digesting the information and trying to decide which options were healthy choices or empty calories.

Finally she spoke. “Shawanda's kind of at a crossroads. If we send her packing, not sure what would happen to her. She might not have the motivation to clean up her life and learn how to be a responsible mom. If she stays, well, we still have some influence on her, bringing some order into her mothering and personal life.” She smiled. “Was just reading the gospel of Luke where Jesus and His disciples were going through a Samaritan town, and the townspeople weren't very hospitable to the travelers. The disciples asked Jesus if they could call down fire from heaven and wipe them out!”

“Really?” My eyes widened. “I don't remember that.”