Last Call (29 page)

Finally it’s Rosamond’s turn. The program leader calmly explains that if she believes in herself she won’t get burned. Rosamond hesitates just long enough to cross herself and mouth a short prayer before walking hurriedly onto the steaming coals. She determines that if she makes it safely across she’ll never doubt her faith again.

When all three have completed the trial-by-fire Hayden seems pleased with the results of his experiment. “Do you see now? It’s all science! If you put your hands in a four-hundred-degree oven do they get burned? No! And if you touch a cake in that oven you do’an’ get burned either. But if you touch the
metal
, whoa! Because that’s what conducts the heat.” He points to the fire walk. “Meanwhile, those coals do’an’ conduct as much heat as a cupcake.”

But Rosamond only stares at Hayden as if he’s being completely ridiculous. “The reason I didn’t get burned was because of the strength of my belief, just like the man in charge explained. You should have listened to him instead of running off like a madman.”

“Oh, that’s just a bunch of malarkey to pump the agents up to sell more insurance,” Hayden mutters with his trademark cynicism.

But Rosamond is adamant. “ ‘With man this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.’ The Gospel of Matthew 19:26.”

Hayden quickly retorts, “ ‘The most common of all follies is to believe passionately in the palpably not true. It is the chief occupation of mankind.’ The gospel of H. L. Mencken.”

Rosamond counters, “ ‘In God have I put my trust: I will not be afraid what man can do unto me.’ Psalms 56:11.”

He throws up his hands in exasperation. “Well, if you still believe in God then
why ever
did you leave the convent?”

“I don’t wish to discuss it.” Rosamond sits down to put on her sandals. Fueled by envy, she wonders if now isn’t the moment to take Diana’s advice and just admit to Hayden how she feels. Only she cannot find the words or the courage to tell Hayden that the divine has become elusive. Just as she cannot complain to Him that love on earth is proving to be equally fraught and mysterious. And worse, now she’d furthered her slide down the slippery slope of sin by adding envy to the fast-growing list.

“So, Joey,” asks Hayden, “what do
you
think of the fire walk? Science or God?”

“I think it’s
really
cool,” Joey says as he inspects the bottom of his right foot. “But either science or God gave me a blister.”

“That’s just because you do’an’ have any calluses yet. You only get those from living.”

chapter forty-seven

T
he next morning Rosamond hears a loud noise coming from the kitchen that sounds like an explosion, quickly followed by a woman’s cry. She rushes downstairs to find Diana apparently covered in blood, along with the walls, counter, and floor. Meanwhile, the ceiling fan continues to fleck bits of red around the room and onto their hair and faces. Just as Rosamond is about to scream she sees the top of the juice machine on the floor, floating in a pool of chopped beets and sliced papaya.

Diana is so startled and mortified by the mess that she sounds as if she’s in shock when like an automaton she states, “Beets are supposed to be excellent for detoxifying the liver. And papaya is good for lowering blood sugar.”

When Rosamond realizes that her friend is unhurt and that it’s bright red juice and not blood everywhere she begins to laugh.

Diana looks around at the spectacular mess, as if a kindergarten class had gone through with spray paint, and also concludes there’s nothing to do but laugh. The women use paper towels to start mopping up the mess. However, it soon becomes clear that the walls and ceiling are permanently stained and will have to be repainted.

Once they get most of the juice off the floor Diana goes upstairs to change out of her stained bathrobe and Rosamond continues to wipe down the sink, table, and countertops. Hayden pops his head in for a cup of coffee and lets out a low whistle when he sees the red-splattered walls and ceiling. “Jaysus, it looks as if ye slaughtered sheep in here. Did I miss some sort of a sacrifice?”

Rosamond hands him a mug of coffee. “It’s just beets and papaya. Now don’t make a big fuss. Diana feels embarrassed enough as it is. Go herd your ducks and by the time you get back breakfast will be ready.”

When Diana returns she asks about the insurance convention and Rosamond is careful not to make any mention of Joey having joined them. Rosamond heard Diana come in long after they’d all gone to bed.

“You didn’t by any chance use the opportunity to tell Dad that you like him, did you?” asks Diana.

“Shhh!” says Rosamond and looks through the archway to see if anyone is coming. She hastily changes the subject. “Tell me about
your
date.”

“What can I say?” Diana raises her arms above her head as if to suggest that there was divine intervention. “Hank is a
completely
different person. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was taking dating lessons.” She laughs at the absurdity of this idea.

“Is that so?” says Rosamond. The surprise in her voice makes it clear that Hayden has done a good job of keeping his behind-the-scenes activities from both women. Though Rosamond wishes that Diana wasn’t joking and someone truly did offer dating lessons. She’d be the first one to sign up.

“We were standing outside his apartment and when he asked me up, I said, ‘I’d go upstairs with you, honest I would, but I’m at the end of my period.’ ” Diana takes the mixing bowl from Rosamond and demonstrates how to crush the lumps against the side of the metal bowl with the back of the wooden spoon. “You have to break these or the waffles will be lumpy.” She hands the bowl back to Rosamond. “And you’ll never believe what he said.”

Far from worrying about believing what Hank said, Rosamond is so stunned that Diana is talking about going up to a man’s apartment on the second date that she drops the wooden spoon into the waffle mix and has to clean it off in the sink.

But Diana doesn’t notice her friend’s discomfort and excitedly continues, “He ran his fingers up and down the small of my back and it felt soooo good and said, ‘Oh, well, if you feel okay then why don’t we just get a towel?’ ”

“You’re kidding?” says Rosamond. “So then what did
you
say?”

“I was astonished. I mean, it’s what you wish men would say, even if they don’t really mean it, but of course they rarely do.” Her face beams with pleasure. “So I said, ‘Are you sure? I’d understand if you . . . ’ but he stopped me, put his hands on my shoulders, looked directly into my eyes and said, ‘Diana, your cycle represents the life force within us, one of the greatest miracles of all.’ ”

“Really?” says Rosamond, with obvious interest in the details. “And then what happened?”

“It was incredible. Next we—”

“I smell my favorite blueberry waffles!” Hayden strides into the kitchen tossing a baseball back and forth with Joey, who is wearing a baseball uniform and has his catcher’s mitt on his left hand.

Diana shields her face with the bowl containing freshly cut cantaloupe, plum tomatoes, and crushed macadamia nuts, another recipe from her latest trip to the health food store. “Don’t throw that thing in the house. You’ll kill somebody.”

“Looks like somebody already died,” says Hayden. “I’ve been meaning to paint the kitchen anyway.” He gives Diana a big kiss on the cheek to prove he’s not angry and then nods toward the dark red splotches on the walls. “Though it would appear you’ve started without me.”

“Cool!” says Joey. “It’s like a crime scene.”

“These waffles don’t look very good.” Rosamond appears worried as she oversees the waffle iron.

“The first two are always terrible, don’t ask me why,” explains Diana. “Just throw them away.”

“Now what were you lassies just giggling about in here?” asks Hayden while ignoring Diana’s pleas to stop tossing the baseball.

“None of your business,” Diana replies and grabs the ball in midair. Then she runs her fingers through Joey’s hair to inspect for signs of recent shampooing. “Joey, you’re going to get head lice if you don’t wash your hair. Now how many times do I have to remind you before it actually happens?”

“Eighteen to twenty,” Joey replies matter-of-factly.

Diana twists his hair so that his head is forced to turn and face her. “Don’t be a smart aleck.”

“Ouch.” He manages to slip out from under her. “I’m
not
. I counted. Eighteen to twenty is the average number of times you remind me between hair washings.”

Before Diana can continue to argue Hayden rescues his grandson. “Do’an’ think I didn’t hear what time you came in last night,” he teases her. “Honestly, I believe you’re a bad influence on the boy.”

“We watched
Dracula
,” says Joey.

“
Dad,
will you stop showing Joey horror films. He’s been sleeping with the light on!”

“Rosie’s the one who looks like she didn’t catch a wink,” observes Hayden, the playfulness now dropping from his voice. As cavalier as Hayden is about disregarding his own illness, he doesn’t seem to want to afford Rosamond the same consideration.

“Now that you mention it, you look more exhausted than Dad,” Diana concurs. “Don’t you feel well?”

“To be honest, I didn’t sleep much. I kept having strange dreams and then waking up.”

“Those horror movies are bad for your health, I’m convinced of it,” Diana says in typical motherly fashion. “I was just reading a book by that natural healing doctor who is always on TV and—”

“I didn’t watch the movie,” says Rosamond. “I felt so tired that I turned in right after we got home. But I couldn’t fall asleep for several hours.”

“You should have come down and watched
Dracula
,” says Joey. “I vant to suck your blood!” He raises his arms and bares his teeth in imitation of a vampire.

“The Reverend Mother always says that if you can’t sleep then lie in bed and count your blessings.”

Hayden catches Joey’s eye and they have to stifle a laugh. Sometimes Rosamond sounds just like one of the spinster primary school teachers from Hayden’s youth.

“Are you in any sort of pain?” Diana demands to know. She removes her yellow dish gloves and places her hand with the built-in thermometer up to Rosamond’s forehead.

“I’ve been feeling all right, better really . . .”

“A person with The Lung Cancer is like a dog,” Hayden chimes in.

“Beg your pardon?” asks Diana.

“They tend to linger. People with The Liver Cancer are like alley cats—fine one night and then poof.” He snaps his fingers. “Next day as stiff as a board.”

“Dad!”
Diana exclaims sharply and then turns to Rosamond. “Is it being too presumptuous if I suggest you see a doctor? At the very least maybe he can give you something to sleep . . .”

“Sleeping pills?” shouts Hayden. “Why, I have enough Nembutal to knock out an entire—”

“No, thanks. I’m sure it will pass,” says Rosamond. “I’ve had strange dreams before.”

“Last week I had nightmares about giant snakes,” offers Joey.

“That’s because Grandpa let you watch
Anaconda
,” says Diana.

“This time it was really just a dream . . . about a beach,” continues Rosamond.

“Did you see
Jaws
?” asks Joey. “I had nightmares about man-eating sharks after that one.”

Diana’s eyes become wide and round until she’s competing with her favorite actress, Bette Davis. She turns to Hayden with a look that says, “You let him watch
Jaws
? I’m going to kill you before any cancer does!”

But Rosamond doesn’t notice this visual exchange. “No, Joey. There weren’t any sharks in this dream. Though there’s an ocean. I wake up on a deserted beach—it’s very beautiful, with turquoise water and a pale blue sky and shimmering white sand. And there are signs of others—picnic baskets, umbrellas, red-and-white-striped towels. Only they’ve all gone and I’m alone waiting for them to come back . . .”

“I believe in dreams,” Hayden firmly states.

“You don’t believe in
anything
,” scoffs Diana.

“That’s not true,” he corrects her while secretly pouring the prune juice into the sink as soon as she turns around to take the milk out of the refrigerator. “I believe in sin.”

Rosamond appears surprised. “You do not!”

“Yup. Only one though, Zephaniah 1:12.”

“This is too much,” says Rosamond. “You expect me to believe that you’ve read the Bible. And on top of that, you believe in just
one
sin.”

“Of course I’ve read the Bible,” says Hayden. “You get stuck on Kodiak Island for three weeks without electricity after selling liability insurance to a logging company and that’s about all there is to do. Unless you happen to like hunting caribou, which I don’t.”

“You don’t know Jesus from Adam,” says Diana.

“Adam Smith happens to be a famous Scottish economist. So he and Jesus were both in the business of teachin’ people how to save,” Hayden shoots back at her. “Anyway, I believe in the sin of complacency—of not acting upon your convictions. And I believe that dreams are your convictions rising to the surface from your subconscious.”

“Then you’ve fooled me twice,” says Rosamond. “I’d never have imagined that you, of all people, had ever opened a Bible. And if I knew that you had, then I would have assumed your favorite line was in Genesis, where Abram says to Lot, ‘If you go to the left, I’ll go to the right; if you go to the right, I’ll go to the left.’ ”

“Ha ha!” says Hayden. “I was attempting to be
see-rious
. You know, lead me not into temptation. I can find my own way just fine, thank you.”

“Dad, serious?” exclaims Diana. “It must really be getting near the end.”

“Aha! You finally did it!” Hayden claps his hands. “You made a joke about me dyin’! We’re goin’ to have to ice skate to the museum today since I’m pretty sure that hell just froze over!” Hayden jumps up and practically does a jig, but a sharp jab of pain in his gut quickly stops him and he doubles over. Rosamond helps him to sit back down.

After determining that he’s all right Diana resumes the argument. “Dad, watch your language! And I
did not
make a joke.”