Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series (24 page)

Bobbi folded her hands and pressed her lips into a tight, thin line. Nobody was going to change her mind on this one. Rita pushed away from the table and got a cup from the cabinet, buying herself some time to think.

The conversation couldn’t be about Bobbi. She was far too prepared to fight that battle. Rita had to shift the focus to get Bobbi to soften up, to drop her guard, to listen to reason. Shift to what, though?

On the windowsill by the sink sat a salt and pepper shaker set, a little black kitten for the pepper and a white kitten for the salt. The shakers belonged to their mother and sat on their kitchen table when they were growing up. Of course. Mama.

“
Do you remember what it was like with Mama? When she got sick?”

Bobbi relaxed and let a deep breath go. “I can remember looking up the word ‘cancer’ in the dictionary. The big dictionary by the telephone table. And I remember ‘canary’ was on the same page.” She dropped her eyes and picked at the placemat again. “One of the definitions said something about evil that spreads. I couldn’t understand how Mama could have evil inside her.”

“
She was livid that she had been diagnosed with cancer.” Rita emptied the pot of coffee into her cup. “She had things to do and girls to raise.” She rinsed out the coffee pot and turned it upside down in the dish drainer. “She said God might have given her cancer, but she didn’t have to take it. She fought it with everything she had.”

“
Didn’t she go to Chicago a couple of times?”

Rita nodded and took her seat again. “She heard about a doctor up there who had tried something new, and had some success. She lived at the library. She read everything, every bit of research. She changed her diet, took vitamins. Anything that held the slightest promise, she was all over it.” Rita shook her head. “She and Daddy went to Mass every morning, and oh, how they prayed. Mrs. Robbins, who lived across the street—”

“
With that hateful little dog.”

Rita smiled not just from the memory of the yapping dog. Bobbi was engaged. “Mrs. Robbins brought over some oil and anointed Mama, and then prayed over her, in tongues. Without a doubt the weirdest thing I ever saw, but Mama wasn’t gonna discount anything. Everything was worth a shot.”

“
See, I never knew all that was going on. By the time they told me . . . she . . . the fight was over.” Bobbi stared past Rita, maybe at the little kittens on the windowsill. “She threw up a lot, didn’t she?”

“
All the time. She was so weak, and then she was in so much pain. At the end, it had spread to her liver. She barely knew where she was the day we got married, she was on so much morphine.” Rita took a long drink from her coffee, struggling with her own memories. “She begged Gavin to marry me before she died. Honestly, I don’t think he was quite ready yet, but how could he deny a dying woman’s last wish?”

“
Always a gentleman.” Bobbi’s shoulders relaxed, and her voice had softened. Maybe she was listening.

“
Baby, please, I’m begging you . . . You can treat this now, and next year, it’ll be a distant memory. This is a terrible way to die. I’ve seen it. Don’t make me go through it again. This is my worst nightmare.”

“
You’d be surprised how much worse your worst nightmare can get.”

“
Is that what you think God is doing? Showing you what a nightmare really is?”

“
I don’t know what God is doing.”

“
Waiting.”

“
Waiting? For what?”

“
For you to give up.”

“
I’m already there,” Bobbi said.

“
No, I think you’re in a battle for control. You think not treating your cancer puts you back in the driver’s seat. You had no say with Brad or with Shannon, and you’ve finally found something you think you can control.”

“
This doesn’t feel like control, I promise. It feels like insanity.”

“
God’s not the author of that.” Rita leaned back in her chair. It was time to leave Bobbi alone and let her digest the conversation, let her remember. “I could quote a lot of Bible verses to you, but you know them. You know what you should do, and you know what’s waiting on the other side of this dark time. If I could bring you out of this I would, but only you can do that.” She stood and pushed in her chair, waiting for a response that never came. “I’m going to throw in some laundry.”

* * *

Chuck pulled out of the church parking lot and headed for home. He couldn’t remember any of the songs or the announcements and the sermon was a blur. At least he hadn’t fallen asleep in the service. Glen pulled him aside afterwards to ask about Bobbi, and Chuck told him about the visit to the lake.

“
Stop trying to fix this on your own,” Glen said. “Shannon told you this was all your fault, and you haven’t gotten over it. Bobbi’s not getting better, you think it’s your fault and it’s killing you. I can see it on your face.”

He couldn’t argue with Glen. He felt guilty leaving Bobbi just for the morning. The verses Glen scribbled on the business card he carried in his shirt pocket would likely add to that guilt. Maybe he’d wait until tomorrow to look them up.

He pushed open the front door and took a quick glance at the empty study. He strode back to the kitchen where Rita stood over a large pot on the stove. “Where’s Bobbi? What happened?”

“
She said she was going to take a nap.” She put a lid on the pot and turned the heat down.

“
You check on her?”

“
Not in the last three minutes. I think we can trust her.”

He sighed. “I’m overreacting, I know.”

“
No, you’re not.” She pulled the coffee pot off the warmer. “I made her some fresh coffee. You want a cup?”

“
No thanks. Is that chili?”

“
That’s what you had to work with.”

“
It’s better than my skills could produce, I’m sure.” Chuck collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. Rita poured a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. “Did she talk to you any?” he asked.

“
I did most of the talking, but she seemed to listen. Especially when we talked about Mama.”

“
That’s good. Listening is a major step.”

Rita sipped the coffee, hedging.

“
What? Is it about me?”

“
She feels abandoned . . .”

“
How . . . ?”

Rita raised a hand. “By God, not you.” Her eyes began to tear up. “If it weren’t for you, she’d already be dead.” She wiped her eyes and stared into her cup. “I told her that her decision was an attempt to regain control. She had no power to stop Brad’s death or to stop Shannon from leaving, so at least she’s going to have a say about her own life and death. She didn’t answer me, so maybe I hit on something.”

Chuck nodded. Could there be some hope?

“
You know, talking about Mama . . . The thoughts of Bobbi going through that . . .” She shook her head slowly.

“
She’ll go for treatment. She has to.”

“
I promised my mother that I would take care of her, and the last time I saw Daddy, that’s all he wanted to talk about.”

“
She’s an adult now. You’re not responsible for her anymore.”

She smiled slightly. “I guess you expect me to believe you don’t feel responsible for her, either.”

“
I’m her husband,” Chuck said, returning the smile. “That’s different.”

“
Of course it is.” She glanced up at the clock. “I’d better go. Gavin needs to eat.”

“
Take him some of the chili.”

She shook her head. “You may need it this week.” She rinsed out her coffee cup and put it in the dishwasher, then Chuck followed her to the front door. Before she opened the door, she stopped and faced him. “I want you to know . . . I don’t believe there’s anyone on earth who loves Bobbi like you do.” She hugged him gently and turned the door handle. “We pray for you as much as for Bobbi. Call me if you need me tomorrow.”

Chuck watched her drive away, then closed the front door. Rita understood. He did love Bobbi more than anyone ever had. She earned permission to discuss cancer treatment with Bobbi by connecting with her, not dictating to her. He’d do it Rita’s way.

He heard a rustle behind him and turned to find Bobbi coming down the stairs. “Hey,” he said, reaching for Bobbi’s hand. “Were you able to rest?”

She hesitated, frowned, then took his hand. “I slept a little.”

“
Rita made some chili for lunch.”

“
Maybe later.”

Chuck frowned and nodded. The wall between them remained just as high and just as impenetrable.

She shifted and blinked, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll, uh, I’ll sit with you while you eat.”

“
That would be great,” Chuck said, and he led her back to the kitchen. She let him take her hand, and she was going to sit with him. Rita worked a miracle. Did he dare hope for more from her? “You want tea?”

“
Just a glass of water.”

Chuck quickly got everything together and sat at the kitchen table with her. “Would you bless the food?” She couldn’t refuse to say table grace. That would make her look like a hardened, hopeless case.

“
I’m not eating.”

“
I know. But would you? Please?”

Bobbi shifted in her chair, and without ever looking up at him, she mumbled, “Sure, okay.” She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, thank You for this food. Thank You for Rita and for her care of us, and thank You for Chuck. In Jesus’ name, amen.” Chuck smiled at her as he started to eat. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. A good start. And he made the short list.

After taking a few bites in silence, he opted to push his luck. “Glen asked if he could stop by and see you.”

“
What’d you tell him?”

“
I said it would make you mad.”

“
Great. I hate to imagine what Glen thinks about me now.”

“
But I was right.”

“
And that matters, doesn’t it?”

He pushed the spoon deep in the bowl and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “If you want to bait me, or criticize me, to vent whatever you’ve stored up, have at it. I’ll even fight back if that makes you feel better.”

“
Chuck—”

“
No, I want to hear what you’re thinking, what you’re wrestling with. I promise I won’t try to change your mind, or talk you out of anything.”

“
You won’t lecture me?”

“
Promise.”

“
What did Rita tell you?”

“
Not much. Just that you talked some about your mother.”

“
She didn’t tell you I was a control freak?”

“
She mentioned her theory.”

“
She’s wrong.”

“
Okay.” Determined not to push her, he reached for his spoon.

“
You think I don’t pray? That I’m not listening to anything from anybody? I heard everything you said yesterday.”

God, please . . . give us that breakthrough . . .

She fixed her eyes on her glass and wiped the condensation away with her thumb. “Last night . . . while you were gone . . . I sat there in the study. And I replayed every word you said. Every word I said.” She took a long drink from her water.

He knew she was stalling, so he leaned back in his chair, trying to appear relaxed, nonthreatening, whatever it took to keep her talking.

“
And I got the phone. I held it in my hands and I begged God to let Shannon call.” She raised her eyes to his. “I prayed that if I was wrong . . . If He’d let Shannon call . . . I’d be at the doctor’s first thing Monday morning.”

“
And she didn’t call.”

She shook her head slowly. “What am I supposed to think, Chuck? What’s He trying to tell me?”

“
Bobbi, that’s the reason you need to talk to Glen. He could give you an answer.”

“
I don’t want to talk to Glen. I want to talk to you.”

He had to fight back the impulse to take her in his arms. She wanted to talk. To him. Hallelujah! He pushed the chili to the side and folded his hands on the table in front of him, faking calm reserve the best he could. “I, uh, I don’t know how much help I can be.”

She almost smiled. “You’ve been more help than you know. Just letting me say . . . all those things. Being strong enough to hear them. I can’t tell you how much . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she twisted the water glass on the place mat. “He’s through with me.”

Chuck wanted to shoot back, “No He’s not! That’s ridiculous!” Instead he nodded. “Do you feel like God’s giving you permission not to treat your cancer? That He’s okay with that?”

“
I asked Him to tell me otherwise, and He didn’t.”

“
Would you change your mind if He said something different?”

“
If?”

“
When.”

“
We’ll see.”

* * *

“
How’s Mom?” Joel asked as soon as his father opened the front door, skipping the hello.

“
I’m guardedly optimistic.” He stepped aside to let Joel in. “She talked to Rita a little bit, then she sat with me while I ate lunch.”

“
She’ll get there.” Joel nodded. “You look tired. You should find a football game to sleep through.”