The Healing Quilt (38 page)

Two hundred fifty dollars later, Garth started the engine and backed out of the parking space without a word. He checked both directions and pulled onto the street, accelerating, eyes straight ahead.

Beth kept sneaking glances at him. Was he angry? Of course he was. Angry at her? Angry at himself? At someone else? Trying to act as if this were an everyday occurrence? Most likely all of the above. She leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. If he wanted her to ask the questions, he'd be waiting a long, long time. Right now an “I'm sorry” or “thank you” would go a long way. Instead he kept on driving. She knew Garth well enough to recognize his silence. He'd talk when he wouldn't explode.

When they turned into the driveway, she decided she'd better prepare him. “Garth, I had to break a window in the front door because I locked the keys in the house.”

“Wonderful.” The sarcasm grated on the one nerve she had left. He stopped the car and turned off the ignition before turning to her. “But that's the least of our worries.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this could go to court.”

“Who threw the rock?”

“How did you know about that?” Garth asked.

“Officer Benson. Did you know she's a member of our church?”

“Yes. Several people on the police force are members.”

“So who threw the rock?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea. All our people knew how important it was to keep the peace. I know they are all innocent. This makes no sense at all.”

Beth looked down to her feet, almost expecting to see the muck sucking at her shoes.

“What if it was someone who wanted you to get in trouble?”

Garth stared at her. “Like framed?”

“Yes.”

Garth stared out the windshield. “Well, I'll be…” He turned to look at her. “You could be right.”

“Are you hungry?” She knew the question to be inane, but she didn't want to hear what Garth was going to say next. Court meant lawyers, and lawyers meant money and time, large sums of each. Neither of which they had. Publicity for the cause was good, notoriety was not.

“Sure.” He looked out where the western sky was pinking after a desultory sunset. “You want to go out?
⁵
‘

“No.”
Not when were going to have to come up with who knows how much money. Not that we can squeeze much more out of our budget anyway.
She opened her car door and got out. Now he would see the glass mess. If she'd known how long she was going to be sitting at the jail, just waiting, she would have swept up the glass before she left.

When the broken glass crunched under their soles, Garth clenched his jaw and shook his head, not looking at her as she scurried to get the broom and dust pan.

That night after a dinner of grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, she left Garth working in his study and returned to her quilt hoop. When the phone rang a bit later, she kept on stitching, knowing that Garth would pick it up in the study.

“For you,” he said, poking his head out the door.

“Oh. Who is it?”

“Shawna. She sounds even more hyper than normal.”

“Garth.” She playfully smacked him on the shoulder and went back into their bedroom to pick up the phone. At least he was talking again.

“So what's up?” she asked after the greetings.

“You'll never guess.”

“Just tell me. I'm not into guessing games tonight.”

“Are you sitting down?”

“On the bed.” I m pregnant.

Beth swallowed and forced her voice to sound natural. “How wonderful. Shawna, I am so happy for you. When is the baby due?”
Put some life into your voice or she's going to be hurt.

“Well, I waited three months before telling anyone this time. Just couldn't go through having to tell them again we'd lost the baby.”

“I know.” She and Shawna had held each other up through hard times in the conception field. Then, when she and Garth made it through the danger time with their baby, they all rejoiced. Until he died.

“This time the doctor says we are out of the woods, and I'm about done with the all-day sickness, so I just had to tell you.”

“So you're due in January?”

“Right on. Late January. Oh, Beth, I can't wait.”

Beth could hear the tears in her friend's voice and forced back the ones in her own. “I really am so happy for you. Garth and I will be praying for you and the baby. You take it easy now, you hear? Do exactly what the doctor tells you.”

“Yes, Mother Beth. Oh, I wish you were here. It's so hard when your best friend is light-years away.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So now that I've told you my news, what is happening there?”

“Well, I just bailed Garth out of jail.”
If I keep the news on other stuff
_y
maybe I won't have to tell her about the depression.

“Jail? What did he do, rob a bank to give money to the poor?”

“No, he is not Robin Hood, no matter what he thinks. He was picketing an abortion clinic, and some idiot threw a rock through a window. A couple of people were injured by flying glass, so it was deemed a riot and they all got tossed in jail.”

“And you had to go bail him out?”

“Right.”

“Aw, Beth, I bet you were upset.”

“That's putting it mildly.”
And I still am. I am embarrassed, angry, and resentful about the money going to pay bail rather than bilk.

“What are you going to do for money?”

“I don't know. Maybe I'll have to get a job.” Beth twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

“But Garth doesn't want you working outside your home.”

“I know, but perhaps that option went the way of the abortion clinic.”

“Maybe your church will help pay for it.”

“I don't know.”

She did know the next night when Garth came home from a meeting with the elders and deacons. She didn't need to ask. One look at the thunder cloud on Garth's face, and she knew the answer.

“They unilaterally reprimanded me for meddling in things not becoming a pastor of the Jefferson City Community Church. As if sticking up for the rights of the unborn was not the duty of every Christian walking this earth. They don't tolerate murder in the streets, but murder in the clinic is permissible.”

“Most likely they feel that way because it is legal.”

“So is drinking, but we don't encourage it.”

Don't bark at me. This isnt my fault.

“They knew when they hired me that I am an antiabortion activist. I did nothing to hide that, and I thought they agreed with me.”

“They most likely do in a more reserved way.”

“Yeah, as long as it costs them nothing. They don't want to get involved. Christians in name only. Say the right words but no money to back up the mouth.”

Beth watched her husband wear a path in the carpet. What would he say if or when he found out that his wife had done exactly what he was fighting so persistently and with such dedication?

“So what are we going to do for money to pay bills and buy gro-ceriesr

“I dont know, but I'm sure God does.” He stopped and stared out the window. “Guess we better hope our garden produces real well.”

Or I get a job. Perhaps I should hang out my shingle as a seamstress. That is one thing I do extremely well. How would I go about advertising? Or maybe my husband is going to have to stuff his pride in his pocket and ht his wife get a real job. I didnt train and work as a dental assistant for nothing. Besides, in not like I have a baby to care for.

The calendar never lies.

Kit stared at the calendar. Tezas first radiation treatment and Ryan coming home, both on the same day—the day after tomorrow. No word yet from Mark as to his plans.
Lord, I wonder how long I'll be abk to stand this.

But at least they were e-mailing fairly regularly.

She thought back to the evening before. She'd been looking for more information for Aunt Teza when an instant message beeped onto the screen. It was Mark, the first time he'd done such a thing, the closest thing to a telephone conversation they'd had in a while. She'd replied immediately.

“Hey, how are you?” She clicked “send” and watched the red letters appear in the box.

“Good. Hows Teza?”

“Ready to start treatment.”

“Had there been any doubt?”

Had there ever. “She wanted to research all her options.”

“Options?”

“You know, like diet, supplements, treatments in Mexico, all kinds of stuff.”

“So what is she going to do?”

“Everything. All that she can manage.”

“How bad is it?”

How I wish I knew.
“Radiation and chemo are never easy.”

“Sorry, I know that. Why did she wait so long?”

“No symptoms. At least that's what she says.”

“Tell her I love her.”

“You tell her. She's online frequently.” She typed in Teza's e-mail address. She waited awhile until another blue line appeared.

“You mentioned something before about getting a job. Anything there?”

Why? Do you want me to get a job?
“No, I've not had time to follow up on that.”
Do I need to think about supporting my selfi

“Well, I need to go. I've got work to do. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Love, me.” She waited for a response but none came. No chance to ask the questions that multiplied like a virus. She signed off the Internet, her enthusiasm for research gone with the blink of a cursor. She propped her chin on her hands and stared at the picture of Mark pinned to the bulletin board. He and Ryan, fishing poles and two small trout dangling on a line between them. There hadn't been enough for dinner for the three of them, so she'd fried them for Ryan's breakfast the next day.

They looked so much alike, same roundish faces, brown hair with a lick of curl. Mark's had receded noticeably, but with their hats on that hadn't shown. But they both had cleft chins, a male Cooper trait. They flashed goofy grins over the fish, all for her benefit she knew. She'd often told friends how the Coopers were the only people who had a salmon that had grown a full twelve inches or more after going in the freezer.