From the Heart (Sandy Cove Series Book 5) Page 8
“Stop apologizing, Mom. I’m glad to help.” Sheila quickly made up the bed, placed Joan’s suitcase on it, and began unpacking. “What would you like to wear today?” she asked as she started carrying clothes into the closet.
Joan pointed out some clothes, and Sheila helped her change into them. “Maybe tonight you can help me with a little sponge bath before bed,” Joan said.
“I’d be happy to. You just let me know what you need, okay?” she replied, gently giving her a hug. “I’m going to the market this morning after I get dressed, so make a list of whatever you need or want.”
After Sheila left the room, Joan sank down onto the bed and prayed. Thank You, Lord, for our sweet, sweet daughter and for how much she helps me. Please don’t let me become a burden to her. Help my arm to heal quickly so that I can take care of myself. And, Lord, would you please tell Phil I love him and miss him?
She stood up, walked into the bathroom, and began the task of brushing her teeth and hair with her left hand.
The days melted into weeks, and the weeks blended into each other as Joan rested and healed. She enjoyed Sheila’s company and felt much less lonely than she had in Mariposa.
She learned to navigate life with a cast and sling, and tried her best not to make demands on her daughter’s time, relishing the love she could see developing and blossoming between Sheila and Rick. The joy on her daughter’s face almost made up for the sorrow in her own heart over the loss of her precious Phil.
But she still thought of him numerous times throughout each day, and missed his cheerful countenance, his confident faith, and his zest for life. It seemed as if a decade of extra years had been added to her age by his absence. Although she’d marveled at the idea of being great grandparents when they’d shared that role together, now she truly felt the part.
“Grief is a funny thing,” she said one day as she and her granddaughter, Michelle, were enjoying a cup of tea together after a long day. “It hits like huge waves in the sea, one after the other, at first. Then the waves are a little less frequent until eventually a whole day may pass without one hitting. But when it does, each wave is nearly as intense as the first. And they can come at the most unexpected times.”
“You’re right. I’d never thought of it that way,” Michelle replied. “But that’s how I felt after Dad died. And now I feel the same since Grandpa passed away.”
Joan looked at her and felt such love and gratitude for a young, busy mother and teacher, who would make time for an old lady like her. “You are such a treasure to me,” she said, reaching out and squeezing Michelle’s hand.
“I love you, Grandma. And I’m so very glad you chose to come live in Sandy Cove.”
Joan thought about what she’d seen of the Shoreline Manor complex. It wasn’t her home in Mariposa. That was certain. But the grounds looked well kept and attractive, and the apartments were modern and in relatively new condition. Somehow she’d find a way to feel at home there. She must. Now that she’d spent the past couple of months here, she knew she needed to be close to family. There was no going back to Mariposa.
Sheila and Rick offered to go back there after Christmas. They would sort through the things Joan hadn’t gotten around to before her fall. They even offered to host an estate sale for the extra furniture and household items she wouldn’t need or be able to use in her new place.
Joan was reluctant to sell the house, so they decided to have the church help them find a family to rent it for a year or two. It seemed like the perfect solution, and she really hoped the renters would be a young a family who would enjoy the property and build some of their own memories, just like she and Phil had as they brought up their daughter.
“Oh, Phil,” she said one night, as she was getting ready for bed, “I sure am going to miss you during the holidays. Sometimes I look up at the clouds and wonder if you really are there, in that great cloud of witnesses, cheering me on.” She smiled and sighed, then climbed into bed and hugged his pillow in her arms, a practice she’d begun when he’d been in the hospital bed in the front room. It was one of the things that helped her feel close to him even now.
Thanksgiving was rushing up in only one more week. And then Christmas. Her first Christmas without Phil.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sheila and Rick had just returned from an evening out doing some early Christmas shopping. Joan was asleep in her room, so they sat quietly in the living room enjoying just being alone together.
“I’ve been thinking about your father,” Rick said, his arm draped over her shoulder as his fingertips caressed her shoulder.
“Really? Me, too.”
“Remember what Pastor Ben said at his memorial service?”
She turned to look at him. “Which part?”
“About living life fully with no regrets, and the importance of realizing that none of us is guaranteed tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Yeah. So true.”
He shifted his body, pulling his arm away and turning to face her. Then he took her hands in his. “I really care about you, Sheila.”
“I care about you, too,” she replied.
He looked her in the eye and added, “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve fallen in love with you. And I don’t want us to miss any of whatever time we might have.”
She studied his face.
“I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I can’t imagine ever feeling this way about anyone else. In all my years as a bachelor,” he paused and gazed at her for a moment, “I never thought I’d ever find someone like you.”
“Oh, Rick,” Sheila began. But he put his finger over her lips.
“Let me finish,” he said. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Although I’m not the man your father was, I’d like the chance to make the rest of your life happy and fulfilling. If you’ll let me, that is.”
She studied his face. “Dr. Chambers, are you proposing to me?” she asked, her heart racing.
Looking down at their interlaced fingers and then back up into her eyes, he replied, “Let’s just say, hypothetically speaking, that I am. Proposing, I mean. What would your answer be?”
She leaned over and kissed him, an unmistakable love communicated without words. “I think you’d have a pretty good chance,” she said.
His lips found hers again, and their kiss stirred profound tenderness and passion. “Be my wife, Sheila Ackerman,” he whispered.
“It would be my pleasure,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
Thanksgiving arrived with a blustery, cool, but surprisingly clear day. After several weeks of rain, the sunshine and blue skies were a welcome relief. To top it off, Joan’s cast was removed the week before and she was thoroughly enjoying being able to use her right arm and hand again.
Michelle was hosting the Thanksgiving family celebration, and all were invited, including their good friends, Pastor Ben Johnson, Ben’s wife Kelly, and their five children—Luke, Lucy, Logan, and the twins, Liam and Lily. Even Michelle’s brother, Tim, and his girlfriend, Traci were making the trek up from Southern California to join the gathering. And, of course, Sheila’s beau, Rick, said he wouldn’t miss the big day.
Joan had offered to make her traditional yam casserole and pumpkin pies, so she was up early, working busily in the kitchen.
“Those pies smell delicious,” Sheila said, as she came in to fix some breakfast. “You always were the queen of desserts, Mom. Especially the holiday pies.”
Joan smiled as she lifted the second one from the oven and placed it on a rack on the counter. “Your father would sit in the kitchen all day, hoping for a chance to snag a slice. ‘I just want to give it the taste test,’ he’d say.”
“Yeah. Dad was always big on sweets,” Sheila replied, and then added, “Anything I can help with?”
“You can open the cans of yams and drain them if you’d like. But maybe you want to eat something yourself, first. I left some oatmeal on the stove for you.”
“You’ve really
been cooking up a storm, Mom.” She lifted the lid of the pan and scooped some oatmeal into a bowl. “From scratch, as usual,” she observed.
“Is there any other way?” Joan replied with a wink. “Those instant packets are for the birds. This will put some meat on your bones.”
Sheila laughed. “I don’t really want any more meat on them,” she said, patting her hip. “There’s plenty of padding here to last a lifetime.”
“Nonsense. You’ve still got a cute figure. I’ve seen how that man of yours looks at you,” Joan said as she pulled a quart of milk out of the fridge and handed it to her daughter. “Want some nuts and berries on that?”
“No thanks. Better save my calories for the feast.”
After eating her oatmeal, Sheila began working by her side, helping to mash the yams, add the marshmallows and brown sugar, pat the mixture into balls, and roll them in cornflake crumbs before placing them into the baking pan. As the two ladies chatted about past Thanksgivings, Joan noticed a special sparkle in her daughter’s eyes.
And she found a little thankful joy creeping into her heart.
Rick picked them up at two o’clock, and soon the ladies were busy in the kitchen with Michelle and Kelly as the men retreated to the family room to watch football. Tim and Traci pulled in an hour later, and Michelle welcomed Traci into the female proceedings while Tim collapsed on the floor in front of the television.
Michelle and Steve’s son, Caleb, and Ben and Kelly’s son, Logan, and their twins were enjoying the sunny day out in the back yard. Caleb had his remote control car racing around the patio with Logan’s. Luke, age fourteen, was part of the male bonding group in the family room, while Lucy helped Michelle and Steve’s daughter, Madison, decorate and set the tables and put out the name cards.
Joan loved being surrounded by family and friends. But she also felt a little out of place without Phil trailing her around and sneaking bites or contributing to the banter about the game. With so many young people gathered together, it was easy to feel old.
“Are you okay, Grandma?” Michelle asked, draping her arm over her shoulder.
Joan looked up into her granddaughter’s eyes and smiled. “Sure, honey. Just feeling my age a little.” As Madison came into the kitchen for the silverware, Joan flashed back to another Thanksgiving, many years back, when Sheila had been that age. Both Joan and Phil’s parents had come for the holiday, and she’d been so nervous cooking for all of them.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Phil had said. “Everything you touch in the kitchen turns into a culinary delight.”
“Oh, pshaw,” she’d replied, as she scooted him out of the room to go visit. But his confidence had rubbed off on her, and she’d been able to enjoy what would have otherwise been a very stressful evening.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Sheila said, pulling Joan back to the moment.
“You sound just like your father,” she replied, giving Sheila’s cheek a little pinch. “I was just taking a quick stroll down memory lane. But I’m back now, so let’s finish up in here and help Michelle serve this feast.”
As they all sat down around the table, Steve reached out his hands, just like Phil used to do, and they formed a connected circle. “Ben, would you ask a blessing on the food?”
“I’d be honored.” As they bowed their heads, Ben thanked God for each person present and for the delicious food they were about to eat. “And we ask, Lord, that You would give Phil a hug for us and tell him how much we all miss him.”
Joan looked up, tears of gratitude glistening in her eyes. Clearly, she was not the only one thinking about her dear husband tonight.
The food was scrumptious, and she found herself eating more than she had in quite a while. After they all stuffed themselves, Michelle passed around a basket with slips of paper and pencils. She instructed them to write something they were thankful for, sign their names, and put the papers back in the same basket.
“I’m going to save these papers, roll them up like tiny scrolls and tie red and green ribbons around them. They’ll help decorate our Christmas tree, and then I’ll keep them in a safe place until next Thanksgiving when I’ll give them back to you,” she said.
Everyone went to work, including the children. Kelly suggested the twins draw a picture of what they were thankful for, and they busily went to work. Other than Caleb asking Logan how to spell a few words, the room was quiet as pencils scratched out a myriad of blessings.
Next, Michelle asked them to each share what they had written. One by one, they stood and revealed what they were most thankful for. Afterward, she turned to Joan and said, “Grandma, would you do us the honor of praying a short prayer of thanks for these many blessings? Yours and Grandpa’s examples of gratefulness have provided such a special legacy for us.”
Joan was moved to tears. She carefully stood to her feet, using the table to help support her trembling legs. As she freely allowed her tears to flow, she prayed a heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving for the many ways God had blessed and provided for her loved ones gathered here. By the end, many others seated at the table had their hearts stirred, and Joan noticed some other eyes that were no longer dry.
They were all about to get up and go into the living room, when Sheila stopped them. Clearing her throat, she reached her left hand under the table to Rick, who’d pulled something out of his pocket. Then she said, “Rick and I have a little announcement to make.”
Joan instantly knew. But she said nothing as her heart rose into her throat one more time.
Sheila glanced lovingly over at Rick.
“What Sheila’s trying to say,” he began, “is that she’s accepted my request to become my wife.”
Joan’s daughter pulled her hand out from under the table and held it up for all to see. A beautiful platinum and diamond ring rested securely on her finger.
Joy swept over Joan as she gazed at her daughter’s radiant smile. “This is the best news of the evening,” she said. And everyone agreed.
That night as she got into bed, Joan reached over and picked up the brochure for Shoreline Manor on the nightstand. “I have a feeling I’ll be moving here soon,” she said to herself, as she looked at the pictures again before turning out the light.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next few weeks were a flurry of events as wedding plans competed with Christmas shopping, gift wrapping, and decorating Sheila’s house. Joan knew Sheila had her hands full, and she hated to add to the demands on her daughter’s time, but she really wanted to do some Christmas shopping herself.
“Would you mind taking me out for a couple of hours this afternoon?” she asked one morning.
“Of course not, Mom. Where would you like to go?”
“To a few little shops in town. I want to look for some gifts.”
Sheila smiled at her. “You know you don’t need to buy any Christmas gifts, right? Just having you with us is a gift itself.”
“Nonsense. I have a little money put aside for this, and I’d order things through my catalogs, but I’m just not sure they would get here in time.”
“Okay. Well let’s make an afternoon of it. I’ve been wanting to discuss the wedding with you anyway. We could go out to lunch, and then run your errands.”
“Thanks, dear. That sounds great.” Joan’s spirits lifted as she thought about a lunch date with her daughter. And maybe planning a wedding would be just what she needed to get her mind off of Phil.
A new teahouse had opened in town, and it was decked out for Christmas with beautiful white lights, poinsettias, and a variety of small pine trees with old-fashioned ornaments and garlands. “This will be my treat,” Sheila told her as they took their seats in a cozy corner by the fireplace.
After ordering some pumpkin soup, tea sandwiches, and scones, they sat back and sipped their cinnamon-flavored brew. The sound of string instruments playing Christmas tunes in the background combined with the crackling fire to create a cozy atmosphere for their midday meal.
“This is l
ovely, Sheila. I’m glad you discovered this place,” she said to her daughter.
“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been wanting to give it a try since it opened last month,” she replied.
“So tell me about your wedding plans. Have you set a date?”
“Well, actually, yes. We have,” Sheila began. “You remember the message by Ben at Dad’s memorial service—about living life to the fullest don’t you?”
Joan nodded. Images of Phil raced into her mind as she recalled him also talking about that when he’d told her he didn’t want to spend the last few weeks or months of his life steeped in chemotherapy. Forcing her attention back to her daughter, she said, “Your father always felt that way, too.”
Sheila reached over and squeezed her hand as if realizing how difficult this time must be for her. “Ben’s message really impacted Rick and me, Mom. We want to get married soon, and we’ve decided New Year’s Eve would be a great anniversary to celebrate together each year.”
Joan tried to imagine what it must be like for her daughter to be so in love at this later stage of life. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, dear. I’m so very happy for you two.”
“We’re thinking a simple ceremony conducted by Ben at the Chapel by the Sea. It would be a family-only event with a dinner reception at the Cliffhanger Restaurant.”
“How can I help?” Joan asked.
“There really isn’t anything I can think of right now.”
“Well, at least let me buy you a new dress for the occasion.”
Sheila smiled. “That’s very generous of you, Mom. But I was thinking I could wear the dress I wore to Michelle’s wedding. It still fits and I’ve never had an opportunity to wear anything that dressy since then.”