Hope Springs (16 page)

“I did, but you know . . . not that big a deal.” Becca wasn't sure what to say. “I know you've had great experiences at that diner. Ever blog about it?”

Sara Ann looked confused. “Blog?”

“Oh, it's . . . it's sort of posting your thoughts or journaling in your own web space online, and people can comment and dialogue with you.”

“I'd need a computer? Nah.” She shrugged again. “Been fine without it this long.”

“Really? I don't know what I'd do without my computer.”

“Hmph.” Stephanie had walked up in time to overhear her last comment. “I'm doing my best to find out while I'm here,” she said. “Don't know why I'd become such a Facebook addict. I didn't like those folk when I was
in
middle school and high school. Why am I keeping up with them now?”

“Oh, hey, let's make another announcement,” Sara Ann said.

Becca and Stephanie looked at one another as Sara Ann waved her hands.

“Can I get everybody's attention for a minute?” Sara Ann put an arm around Stephanie. “I want y'all to meet our newest employee at the Main Street Diner!”

Janelle pumped her fist with a big “Woot! Woot!”

Stephanie looked like she was trying to duck out of sight. When she saw the attention still on her, she said, “Well, I wouldn't say I'm exactly an
employee
. I'm barely even a temp. Just helping out a little here and there while I'm in Hope Springs when I'm not needed here.”

“And we'll take all the ‘little here and there' we can get,” Sara Ann said.

“So if you're able,” Janelle further announced, “head on over to the diner for breakfast tomorrow morning. That's Stephanie's big debut.”

Stephanie gave Janelle a thin smile. “Thanks so much for that, cousin.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Saturday, January 9

J
anelle wasn't sure she could handle this. She'd heard Grandma Geri vomiting in the middle of the night again, which wasn't itself alarming—Grandma had told her not to run to the bathroom every time she “upchucked”—but when it continued over a few minutes, she got up to check. Grandma Geri was slumped over the toilet, sweat beaded on her forehead. Janelle took her temperature, and when it read 103, she remembered the oncologist's words: never ignore a temperature; an infection could be life threatening. She called Dr. Reynolds, and he instructed her to take her grandmother to the hospital right away.

The next few hours were a blur as the hospital fast-tracked Grandma Geri to emergency treatment—X-ray, blood tests, and various drips of antibiotics and other drugs. Turned out she had a chest infection, and her white blood cell count was too low so she had to be admitted.

Somewhere in that blur it hit Janelle that she might be in over her head. While she sat at the hospital, there were four young children sleeping at the house—her own two and Claire and Dee, who had stayed for a sleepover Friday night. Thankfully, Libby had stayed as well, since Stephanie was starting at the diner this morning. But Stephanie would be gone in three weeks anyway, and Libby had her own life in Raleigh. The reality was that Grandma Geri could have an emergency any day of the week, any time of night, for months to come. How could she stand ready to help when she had her own children to look after as well? She couldn't leave them alone in the house.

From the hospital Janelle called Aunt Gladys, who had already planned to spend the day with Grandma Geri, and waited there until she arrived. Now she stared at the countryside as she drove back to Hope Springs, wondering about this other problem she had—what to do today with the kids. Tiffany couldn't be happier, having two playmates to pal around with. But Daniel was another story. His first week of school hadn't gone well. He said nobody liked him, not the teacher or the kids. Janelle had talked to the teacher herself, and the woman seemed great. Daniel just seemed to be having a rough time adjusting, which was showing itself in other ways. He said he wanted his dad, and if anything could break Janelle's heart, that was it . . . because there was nothing she could do about it.

She drove through Hope Springs as the town slowly came alive. Approaching Main Street, she slowed. She hadn't been to the diner in years. As much food as her family cooked up, there was never a need. But a cup of coffee and a few quiet minutes sounded appealing. The kids were likely still asleep. And she'd get to see how Stephanie was faring.

Janelle felt a hint of a smile for the first time this morning. Hearing Stephanie grapple with her “boot camp curveball” had been more than amusing.

Adjacent to the diner was a small parking lot, which was full, so Janelle parked on the street, noting a benefit of small-town living—no meter to feed. A bell tinkled at the opening of the door and the inviting aroma of bacon, eggs, and toast surrounded her. The place was bustling, people seated at booths and tables, servers offering refills of coffee. Should she wait for someone to seat her? She didn't see a sign anywhere. But moments later, Sara Ann appeared from the back.

“Hey! Treat seeing you here.” She smiled. “Coming to peek at Stephanie?” She carried a stack of menus that she deposited by the podium near the door.

“Can't say it was the motivation, but a definite side benefit.” Janelle glanced around to find her. “She surviving?”

“Totally,” Sara Ann said. “She must be back in the kitchen, but I'll take you to her section.”

She glanced out the window. A woman in her seventies at least was slowly making her way inside. Sara Ann darted to the door and opened it. “Morning, Mrs. Honeycutt. How are you?”

“Arthritis is giving me a little trouble this morning, but I'm better than I deserve.” She kept moving toward the dining room.

“She has a regular table?”

“Same one for years. She and her husband used to come every Saturday morning. He passed away four years ago, and she's kept the tradition.”

“Oh, wow.” Janelle looked around. “I bet you know a lot of these people's stories.”

Sara Ann stared out at the customers. “Like you wouldn't believe.” She led Janelle to a small booth. “So if Stephanie wasn't your motivation, what was?”

“Had to rush Grandma Geri to the hospital early this morning.” Janelle slid into the booth with a sigh. “Feeling overwhelmed by everything, I guess. Thought I'd get some coffee, take a breather.”

“Absolutely. Be right back with a pot. Cream?”

“Thanks.”

Sara Ann returned quickly and poured hot coffee into a porcelain mug. She placed a mini pitcher of cream on the table, then reached into her apron and pulled out a small Bible. She handed it to her. “Psalm 121.”

Janelle's eyebrows knit lightly as she took it. “Okay.”

Sara Ann moved on, tending to other customers. Janelle added cream and sugar to her coffee, stirred, and took a sip. Then she opened the pocket Bible to Psalm 121.

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;

From where shall my help come?

My help comes from the L
ORD
,

Who made heaven and earth.

She paused right there, staring at the words she'd read. She knew that. She knew her help came from the Lord. She'd said before the first chemo treatment that this would be a time for prayer as never before. But that hadn't been her focus this morning.

She held the mug with both hands, taking a long sip, pondering. Wasn't God the One who'd put it in her heart to help Grandma Geri? If He made heaven and earth, could He not provide what she needed to help her care for the kids as well? He'd already provided Stephanie this month, which was tremendous.

“I hope you don't want anything but coffee, 'cause they got me hopping like a bunny rabbit on steroids this morning.”

Janelle looked up, and her stomach buckled.

“And if you laugh, I'm on the first thing smoking back to St. Louis.”

“Why . . . would I laugh?” She bit her lip as she gave her cousin the once-over. “I think the Main Street Diner apron is very becoming. Totally love your hair in that bun thing.” Janelle reached into her purse. “I've got to get a picture and text it to Cyd.”

Stephanie's eyes narrowed. “I wish you would.” She turned and hightailed it to her next table as Sara Ann stopped to top off Janelle's mug.

Janelle looked up at her. “What's your deal, Sara Ann?”

Sara Ann set the coffeepot on the table. “What do you mean?”

“You carry a Bible in your apron. You knew exactly what I needed. And watching the way you interact with people around here . . . you're interesting.”

Sara Ann laughed. “I hope that's a good thing.”

“Oh, I think you're awesome. There just seems to be so much beneath the surface with you.” Janelle stared at her, trying to understand what was stirring in her heart. “Do you have a minute?”

“Only a super quick one.” Sara Ann slid into the booth across from her.

“Then I'll be super quick.” Janelle took another sip of her coffee. “Before David died, I went to this women's Bible study at my church, and I loved it. But everything fell off afterward.”

“I can imagine. That was a really hard thing to go through, Janelle.”

Janelle nodded, but didn't want to linger there. “Todd's message at the funeral inspired me to look at my life and my relationship with God and make some changes. I want what I used to have, a love of the Bible, and studying, sharing, and praying with other women.” She paused to drink her coffee. “I talked to Travis last night and he said New Jerusalem has a Bible study Wednesday nights, but it's for everybody. That's great . . .”

“But . . .”

“I like the dynamic with all women. And I'm thinking it might be nice to take it outside of the church building, draw all kinds of women.”

“Wow.”

“And I'd love for you to lead it.”

“What?” Sara Ann looked genuinely shocked. “No.”

“Why not? I think you'd be perfect.”

“Perfect? I don't lead stuff. I barely graduated high school. The perfect person is Becca. That's what she does.”

Janelle nodded. “She was the first person I thought of and I talked to her last night too. But understandably she said she's got too much going on.” She added quickly, “But I honestly think you'd be great. I don't know why, I just do.”

Sara Ann moved out of the booth. “Not gonna happen. I read the Bible for me. Who knows if I'm even understanding it right?”

Janelle gave her a look.

“I'm not kidding.” She was earnest as she stood by Janelle's side of the booth. “I don't even make it to church on Sunday because of work. Frankly, I'm not getting why you'd ask me.”

“Because I've listened to you and I've seen your heart. And you sure knew what psalm I needed.” She paused. “I'm not asking you to give a sermon. Just lead us as we study together.”

Sara Ann watched the hostess seat a family at one of her tables.

“Gotta go,” she said. “But answer's no. Nobody'd show up anyway.” She started toward another table.

Janelle looked over her shoulder. “What if one person showed up?”

Sara Ann paused, looked back at her. “Who?”

“Me.”

“Oh, Janelle . . .”

“Seriously, if I show up with my Bible, can we have a Bible study, the two of us? It would help just to have that kind of accountability.”

“Here? How?”

“What time do you open?”

“Six.”

“Do you get a midmorning break?”

“Around ten.”

“How about next Saturday at ten then? We'll do it one time, see how it goes.”

Sara Ann gave her a look that said her arm was being twisted. “How can I say no if you want an accountability partner?”

“Accountability partner?” Stephanie had been walking past, and she backed up when she heard the words. “Had one all my life. My sister. Now I hear her voice in my head. I don't recommend it.” She kept going.

Janelle looked at Sara Ann. “I think I need to work on two of us showing up.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

K
ory smiled at the sight of the girls trooping over to the Dillon home in a straight line, knees high, arms swinging in time, with Becca at the lead. He got out of his car, and when Dee caught sight of him, she fell out of step.

“Daddy, it's still
morning
. You didn't have to come so early.”

Becca waved with a sympathetic smile. “Good morning, Kory.”

Kory came closer. “Morning, Becca.” He looked into the bright faces. “Good morning, girls. What're you up to?”

“We're gonna help clear out Dad's old room,” Claire said, “because it's gonna be mine now.”