Read Under a Summer Sky Online
Authors: Nan Rossiter
Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life
A
s the congregation closed their hymnals, Laney felt jostling in the pew beside her. She looked over to see her two middle sons trying to gain possession of the only stubby pencil in the rack. She gave them a wilting look, and Ben let go, but Seth, looking vindicated and pleased, proceeded to draw on his program. She sighed. E and Gabe were both working, leaving her with only three to shepherd, but even so, two of the three couldn’t seem to behave. In fact, they were acting like two-year-olds!
Noah finished reading a passage from the New Testament about the last supper, and then invited the congregation to join him in prayer. Everyone bowed their heads, except Laney, who was lost in her own thoughts.
Noah had been quiet all day, and she looked up to watch him, standing behind the pulpit with his head bowed. His blond hair had started to come in darker underneath, and it was showing signs of silver in his sideburns. She listened to the sincerity in his solemn voice as he prayed, on behalf of the congregation, for forgiveness.
“Amen,” he said finally, looking up. He shuffled some papers and took a sip of water.
“Recently,” he began, “I came across a story about a young mother who was tucking her six-year-old son into bed, and as she did, she asked him, ‘Do you know what it means to be a Christian?’ The boy looked up at her, and with all the innocence of a child, answered, ‘Of course. You look at the cross, you think about what Jesus did, and then you become one of God’s guys.’ In that little fellow’s mind, it couldn’t have been simpler.
“Oftentimes, though, being one of ‘God’s guys’ means stepping out of one’s comfort zone, crossing that boundary, and sharing a bit of oneself. Today is one of those times . . .”
Laney’s heart pounded. Was her husband’s sermon going to be reflective of the personal struggles they’d experienced over the last few days? Was he going to talk about trust and honesty? Surely, these subjects had been foremost on his mind as he wrote his sermon this week. She looked in her bulletin for the title of the sermon. It said “The Last Time.”
Noah looked up and smiled. “Of late, I’ve found myself wondering about the passage of time. In fact, for weeks now, I’ve been wondering where spring went. Woefully, we humans overschedule our lives . . . and the lives of our families. Our days become filled with activities, and the weeks and months become a blur, until finally, we pause, shake our heads, and wonder, ‘Where did the time go?’ ”
As he spoke, Laney became captivated by his words, and her racing heart slowed.
“It is a blessing that we humans are, for the most part, blissfully unaware when some task or daily ritual occurs for the very last time. When our boys were younger, we read countless books together at bedtime. Fortunately, we still have one little one who enjoys listening to stories, although he’s growing up much too fast.” Noah looked at Asher as he said this, and Asher grinned and blushed. Hearing their father’s reference to their little brother, Ben sat up from his slouch and stopped scowling, and Seth looked up from his drawing. “But all our boys have had their favorites:
Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel
,
The Biggest Bear
,
Tractor Mac
,
Rugby and Rosie
, and the perennial classic,
Goodnight Moon
. We know some of these books by heart, and I can still smell that sweet little boy scent and see their little index fingers pointing to the mouse on each page.” He paused. “But . . . when was it? When was the moment when we closed
Goodnight Moon
for the last time? If I had known it was the last time, I probably would’ve cried.
“Reading books before bed was only part of the nighttime ritual in our house, because reading was always followed by ‘running hugs.’ Laney and I would sit on the floor at the far end of our bedroom, safely clear of furniture, and brace ourselves while pajama-clad bundles of energy stood at the other end . . . waiting. Then, laughing and giggling all the way, the boys would run full tilt
at
us . . . into our arms and push us right over onto the floor in a hug.” He smiled wistfully. “Now, even Asher is too big to give us a running hug—because one of us might get hurt!” Everyone laughed when he said this.
“Every night . . . night after night . . . reading . . . running hugs . . . and flying like airplanes into bed—I remember it all as if it were yesterday.” His voice was choked with emotion, and Laney felt tears welling up in her eyes. “But then, a night must’ve come . . . when I wasn’t paying attention . . . when we didn’t do it. What night was it? It’s a good thing I didn’t realize, at the time, that it was the
last
time . . . because it would have broken my heart.” He paused.
“But God’s grace is with us every step of the way. As each chapter of our lives ends, as every door closes, He is standing right there. Whether we are innocently unaware of the preciousness of a moment or if we are all too well aware that it is the last time, God is with us.
“Anyone who has ever sold a home knows the keen sadness of walking through empty rooms one last time, gazing at the familiar way the sunlight falls through a window and realizing that it will still shine through even after we are no longer there to see it; or we picture the Christmas tree that always glittered festively in the corner and remember all the happy memories that were made beneath it; and then we turn to look in a different corner—where our favorite chair was and the side table where we kept our Bible—and we think of the many whispered prayers we prayed while sitting there. We move from room to room, and we can almost hear the laughter and the lovely voices, and we wonder how we can bear to leave such a sacred place.
“But with tears in our eyes, we eventually close the door for the last time; and God is there, waiting for us, waiting to ease our pain and guide us.
“There are also times when we have no way of knowing that the moment at hand is the last time. We see images of military families that are facing separation. Through tearful eyes they hug and whisper good-bye, and we imagine their silent prayer, ‘Dear God, don’t let this be the last time....’ Or sometimes, it is our turn to face the mortality of a loved one. We linger at their bedside after being beside them all day. We hold tightly to their hand; we are so weary. And we know we must go home, but we continue to hold on, wanting to never let go. And we silently pray, ‘Please don’t let this be the last time.’
“God is here most of all.
“Today’s New Testament passage tells us about one of the last moments that Jesus shares with his disciples. He is well aware that it’s the last time he will have supper with them, and even though they don’t seem to fully understand what is about to happen, Jesus reassures them that he will always be with them. He tells them, ‘I will not leave you desolate; I will come to you. Yet a little while, and the world will see me no more, but you will see me; because I live, you will live also.’ His words are enough to sustain them but he continues, ‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.’ These timeless words of reassurance that Jesus gave his twelve disciples so long ago are still the cherished words that we, as God’s guys, have the honor of carrying in our hearts today.
“So this morning we’ve paused to reflect on the treasured moments that make up our days. And now, as we leave this sacred place and rush back to our hectic lives, perhaps we will remember to notice each moment . . . each of the ordinary, simple, mundane moments that make up our lives. We can never have them back, so we must try to squeeze in as many running hugs as we can. And as each chapter of our lives comes to a close, we must also remember that God is there at every turn . . . waiting to ease our way.
“In closing, there’s a country song that is known—in our house—to make my eyes mist over. But don’t worry, I’m not going to sing it.” He smiled as he said this, and everyone laughed.
“It’s called, ‘Remember When,’ and throughout the song, the singer reminisces about the different stages of life until he finally gets to the part about getting older and turning gray and the kids moving away; but he goes on to sing that they won’t be sad. They’ll just be thankful for all the good times.”
Noah looked up. “So no matter how busy I am today, or how tired I am tonight, my boys and I are going to sit together . . . because we have a book to read . . . and maybe it won’t even be the last time.”
Laney looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes, and he looked back at her . . . and smiled.
“H
urry up, Ash,” Laney called up the stairs, “or you’re going to miss the bus.”
“Mom, can’t you drive me? It’s the last day, and everyone’s gonna have water guns. I’m gonna get soaked.”
“No, hon. I need to be at school early,” she called back as she rinsed the breakfast dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “Besides, you need to give Mr. Anderson his gift.” The phone started ringing, and Laney dried her hands and hurried to answer it. “Hello?” she said, wondering who could be calling so early.
Asher appeared at the bottom of the stairs dragging his backpack. He saw his mom on the phone and frowned. Then he went over to the counter, peered inside his lunch pack, zipped it up, and pushed it into his backpack. “Mom, we gotta go,” he whispered, but Laney didn’t hear him.
“Yes. Hi, Dr. Jamison,” she said.
Overhearing his mom’s greeting, Asher groaned and plopped down on the floor next to Halle. “Maybe I’ll get a ride after all,” he whispered softly, and Halle thumped her tail and climbed on his lap. He stroked her soft ears, watched the second hand on the kitchen clock ticking steadily, and listened to his mom’s side of the conversation. “Yes . . . yes . . . it was?” Long pause. “Okay . . . yes . . . mm-hmm.” Long pause. “I understand . . . I will . . . okay.” Long pause. “Thank you so much, Dr. Jamison. Yes, you too . . . enjoy the summer.”
She hung the phone back up and leaned against the doorway.
“That phone call took four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” Asher announced cheerfully.
Laney quickly brushed away her tears and turned around.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” he asked in alarm, scrambling to his feet. “Why are you crying?”
Laney pulled him into her arms. “Nothing’s wrong, honey. Nothing’s wrong,” she whispered. “Everything’s okay.”
Asher pulled back and searched her face. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’m happy.”
He looked puzzled. “I don’t think I’ve ever cried because I was happy.”
“Someday, you might, sweetie, someday you might.”
Asher wasn’t so sure, and then he frowned. “I think I missed the bus.”
“That’s okay, I’ll drive you,” Laney said with a smile. Suddenly, there was no problem on earth that was insurmountable. She was going to live. She was going to see her boys grow up, and that was all that mattered.
Asher looked at his mom curiously. Something was different. Something had changed. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was almost as if she looked prettier. He smiled. “Good,” he said, reaching for his backpack. “Now I won’t get wet.”
As they got in the car he asked, “How come I can’t bring a water gun?”
“Because kids aren’t supposed to bring toy guns to school.”
“They do anyway.”
“Well,
we
try to stick to the rules,” she said, looking at him in her rearview mirror.
“Seth says, ‘Rules are meant to be broken.’ ”
“Well, Seth is testing the waters.”
Asher didn’t reply right away, and Laney looked in her mirror. He was looking out the window with his brow furrowed into a frown, and she could see his wheels spinning. “Does that mean he’s sticking his big toe in the water to see how cold it is?”
Laney laughed. “Sort of. But he’s also seeing how much he can get away with. It’s not easy, at his age, to have three big brothers and still be cool.”
“I have four big brothers, and I don’t think it’s hard.”
“That’s cuz you’re just naturally a cool dude.”
Asher grinned and Laney went on. “So who do you think you’re gonna get next year?”
“I hope I get Mrs. Delpha,” he said. “She’s nice. She always waves to me when I walk by.”
“Well, I hope you’re happy . . . no matter who you get. They’re all good teachers.”
“I know.”
Laney pulled into the driveway in front of his school, and Asher unstrapped his seat belt. He climbed out, and she came around to give him a hug. “Last time this year!”
“I know,” he said, giving her a hug. Then they gave each other double fives and kissed each other’s palms—a trick they’d learned from the little raccoon in the children’s book,
The Kissing Hand
. That way, later, if one was missing the other, they could press their palm against their cheek and feel the kiss.
“Keep the faith,” Laney said, hugging him again.
“Fight the good fight,” Ash replied with a grin.
“I can do all things through Christ, which strengthens me.”
“Inch by inch, it’s a cinch.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too!”
Asher turned to go, but then stopped. “Mom, do you still do that with E?”
Laney nodded. “Sometimes.”
“Good . . . because I want to do it forever.”
He waved and hurried inside. She watched him go. “I want to do it forever too,” she said softly.
“I
t’s going to be really nice to have two more girls in the family,” Laney said as she and Maddie crossed the Sagamore Bridge back onto the Cape.
Maddie nodded. “It will be, especially since we already have more than our share of testosterone.”
Laney laughed. “I know. We definitely don’t have to worry about carrying on the family name.”
“For generations to come!” Maddie added with a smile. She looked out the window at the boats drifting along the canal. “Beryl is such a sweetheart, and it’ll be nice for Charlotte to have a mom too. I wouldn’t be surprised if Beth has been pulling some strings up in heaven.”
“It’s funny you should say that,” Laney said. “Because I heard Rumer telling Beryl that their mom has been pulling some strings too—to bring Micah back into her life.”
“Well, that’s proof right there. Women do run heaven!”
Laney laughed. “You know, I bet you’re right.” They were both quiet for a while. Then Laney looked over. “What happened to Beryl’s mom?”
“She had Alzheimer’s—which is the most devastating disease. When she was first diagnosed, Beryl moved back home to look after her. But eventually it became too much. Mia wandered off on a couple of occasions, and Beryl couldn’t find her. So it reached a point where it just wasn’t safe, and finally, even though it broke her heart, she had to move her into a nursing home.”
“Where were Rumer and Isak?”
“When this was all happening, Rumer was living in Montana and Isak was in California. Ironically, they both ended up moving back east after their mom passed away. Rumer’s husband Will—who’s in construction—had been out of work when they lived here, so they’d moved to Montana, but the only job he could find was working for a company that makes prefab houses, and he didn’t like it. But then, at the funeral reception, he was offered a job as construction foreman, and they moved back. They’re living in the family’s old farmhouse and fixing it up at the same time. And Isak’s husband, Matt, is a heart surgeon. They moved back east because his mom lives in Rhode Island. She’s getting older too, and he didn’t want the same kind of burden to fall on his sister.”
“Do they have kids?”
Maddie nodded. “Rumer and Will have a son, Rand. He’s around twelve . . . or thirteen by now, and Isak and Matt have a son and a daughter. Tommy—who’s named after his grandfather—just graduated from Stanford, and Meghan is a junior at Columbia. That was another reason they moved back East—because Meghan is out here. I think they’re all coming to the wedding, so you’ll get to meet them. By the way, have they come up with a final head count yet?”
Laney laughed. “Nooo . . . nowhere close, but I’m not gonna worry about it. What will be, will be.” She paused. “You mentioned Tommy’s grandfather. Do you mean Beryl’s dad?”
“Yes, Tom Graham was killed when he was just twenty-six years old. He and Mia had gone out to dinner to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary, and on their way home they were hit by a drunk driver. Their pickup truck was pushed down an embankment, and Tom was thrown from it, and Mia, who was almost full term, went into labor. Beryl was born the same night her father died.”
“That’s awful,” Laney said softly.
Maddie nodded. “And Mia was left to raise those three little girls all by herself.”
“Well, she did a wonderful job. They’re all amazing women.”
“Mia was amazing too, and Beryl is just like her in every way. You’ve often commented that Noah looks like Asa, but Beryl and Mia were even more alike. I know Beryl wishes her mom had lived to see her get married.” She paused thoughtfully. “There is someone else she might invite—although I doubt he’d come. After Tom died, Mia fell in love with a famous artist. He lives in North Conway. Beryl and her sisters only recently found out about him. They were going through their mom’s house, and they found a memoir she’d written and some portraits he’d painted of her. They were very provocative!”
“Noo!”
Maddie nodded. “Yup, and then, to their surprise, he came to Mia’s funeral. He’s in his seventies, but he seems much older—maybe it’s because he uses a cane—and I honestly don’t know if he’d make the trip.”
Laney nodded. “Micah and Beryl asked me if I’d be willing to make my peach cobbler.”
“Are you going to?”
“I said I would,” Laney said with a nod, “although I don’t know where I’m going to get the peaches.”
“You could always drive down to Pacey’s Peaches and Pecans,” Maddie suggested.
“You don’t know how much I’d love to do that. Asher has never been to the farm, and I’d love to take him, but how can I possibly leave for a week when there’s going to be a wedding at my house? There’s still so much to do.”
“You could let Noah worry about that,” Maddie said. “After all, he’s the one who said yes.”
Laney smiled. “That’s true, but I’m still afraid it won’t get done, and then I’ll come home to an even bigger mess.”
Maddie looked over. “Aren’t you the one who said, ‘What will be, will be’?”
Laney laughed. “I guess I am.”