Under a Summer Sky, page 12
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen the weather.”
He added several logs to the cheerful fire crackling in the fireplace and then opened the wine. As she stirred in the spaghetti, he’d handed her a glass. “Well, if it does, you might have to put up with an overnight guest.”
“Well, I hope he brought his sleeping bag,” she’d teased.
In the warm, flickering candlight, Micah had tasted the famous sauce for the very first time. “Mmm,” he murmured, slurping his spaghetti. “What kind of meat is in it?”
Beryl opened her napkin. “Ground sirloin and sausage.”
“Wow,” he said softly.
Beryl sprinkled freshly grated Romano across her plate and then deftly twirled her fork into her spoon, neatly swirling a ladylike portion of angel hair around its prongs.
“You’re good,” Micah said, watching her and obviously impressed. “I never learned how to do that.”
“I can tell,” she’d said with a laugh.
He’d grinned, as Beryl took a sip of her wine.
After the kitchen was cleaned up, Micah had turned on the outside light to check on the snow and realized it was still very much a blizzard outside. He’d called his mom to tell her—as long as she didn’t mind looking after Charlotte—that he was probably going to stay over, and Maddie assured him she didn’t mind one bit. In fact, her granddaughter was already sound asleep.
Beryl and Micah had settled in front of the fire with the last of the wine. They’d watched the fire crackle cheerfully and listened to the fierce wind blowing snow against the windows outside, and they’d luxuriated in the warm comfort of being cozily inside together. Micah had pulled Beryl into his arms, gently laid her back on the rug in front of the fire, and they’d made love for the very first time. The next morning, he’d asked her to marry him.
“That was a fun night,” Beryl said with a smile.
“It was,” Micah agreed, laughing. “I will never forget that gravy. It was amazing.”
“Hey!” Beryl said, sounding wounded.
“Well, it was a mantrap,” he said, laughing and pulling her against him. “And as much fun as it would be to let you have your way with me now, we probably shouldn’t keep my parents waiting. But maybe I’ll let you later,” he added, kissing her softly.
“Mmm, that would be nice,” she murmured, feeling how aroused he was. “Let’s not forget the pie . . .”
23
As Laney buttoned her blouse, she glanced down at the area from which the biopsy had just been taken. “Maybe I should just have a double mastectomy like Angelina,” she mumbled, “then I won’t have to worry anymore.” She knew one thing: she was getting tired of buttoning her blouse after being prodded and examined. And she couldn’t wait until summer—when her attire would consist exclusively of T-shirts, tank tops, shorts, bathing suits, and an occasional sundress.
There was only one more week of school, but everyone considered it the longest week of the year—the time for learning had passed and the kids were ready for vacation. In fact, most were already mentally checked out, and Laney was ready to join them. She thought about the coming week’s schedule: Monday was Field Day, weather permitting; Tuesday was their class party; Wednesday was the all-school assembly with the ever-funny Bill Harley—an event her kids couldn’t wait for because they’d already memorized Bill’s silly song about the pea on his plate; and finally, Thursday would bring the always emotional and much anticipated Moving Up Day when all the kids brought in thank-you gifts and the sweet cards they’d made, hugged their old teachers good-bye, and then trooped down the hall, looking excitedly, and anxiously, for their new ones.
As Laney stepped out into the bright sunshine, she caught herself singing Asher’s favorite Bill Harley song, “You’re in Trouble,” and in spite of herself, she smiled—maybe she was taking life a little too seriously. She’d even woken up in the middle of the night, clenching her teeth, and now her jaw ached.
She climbed into her hot car, cranked the AC all the way up, and texted Noah to make sure all the boys were where they were supposed to be. She was on her way to the teachers’ party, and she’d only be able to relax if Noah had the home front under control. She was relieved when he wrote back almost immediately: ALL’S WELL—HAVE FUN!
Laney pulled open the door of The Lobster Claw Restaurant, humming the ringtone on Gabe’s phone. Somehow her creative son had figured out how to record the restaurant’s radio ad, and now, whenever his phone rang, the cheerful jingle filled the air. “The Cape in the summer is magic. The sun and the sea and the wind on the shore. These days were made for families. That’s what we’re here for.” She smiled. Gabe said he liked hearing the song when he was away at school because it reminded him of home, and besides, his classmates all thought it was a hoot.
“Are you with Eastham Elementary?” the hostess asked, looking up.
Laney nodded and then saw her best friend Mara—one of the other first-grade teachers—coming down the stairs. “Hey, Laney! I wasn’t sure if you were coming, but I saved you a seat. Dottie already has everyone rolling on the floor, and she’s only had one drink!”
Laney smiled as she followed Mara up the stairs to the Surfboat Room. “I’m going to miss Dottie so much.”
“Me too, but she deserves it.”
“I don’t know how she did it. I don’t think I’d last fifty years.”
All the teachers stood to give Laney a hug, and Dottie held her at arm’s length and searched her eyes. “How’d it go, dearie?” she asked gently.
Laney looked puzzled. “Fine?” she said uncertainly, looking over Dottie’s shoulder at Mara, who shrugged and tried to look equally puzzled.
As soon as Laney could break free from Dottie, she confronted Mara. “You’re the only one I told,” she said in a hushed voice.
“I’m sorry, Lane, but she asked me where you were,” Mara whispered remorsefully. “I didn’t realize it was a secret.”
“Mar, I haven’t even told Noah . . ..”
“Don’t worry, Lane, I’m sure Dottie won’t say anything.”
Just then, another first-grade teacher, Pam Travis, sat down across from them and smiled sympathetically at Laney. “Lane, I just want you to know, I’m keeping you in my prayers.”
Laney practically choked on her water. “Thanks, Pam,” she sputtered, “but there’s really nothing to pray about. Everything’s fine.” She gave Mara a wilting look.
“Well, that’s good,” Pam continued, “because one of my mom’s friends had to go for a biopsy, and she ended up with stage four. It was awful. She didn’t last six months.”
Laney blinked and wished she could go home.
Just then, a waitress came around, taking drink orders, and Mara ordered a Cape Codder. “Want one, Lane?”
But Laney shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m just going to have water.”
“Laney, I’m really sorry,” Mara said softly, her eyes glistening, which only made Laney feel worse.
“It’s okay, Mar, don’t worry about it.” Laney knew her friend meant well, and if she excused herself, Mara’s evening would be ruined too, so she stayed, but when her baked scallops came, she barely touched them.
Finally, it was time for Dottie to open her gifts—many of which had a retirement theme, including a whole stack of beach novels. “I love to read, but I’ve never had the time, so I’m looking forward to these. Especially this one!” She held up a paperback with a very muscular, very tan lifeguard on the cover, and all the ladies hooted.
“Oh, Dottie, you’re too much!” Shirley said, making everyone laugh all over again.
“They’re both too much,” Mara whispered, knowing Shirley, the other kindergarten teacher, would be retiring soon too.
Laney nodded and then sighed. “I think I’m going to head out. . . .”
“But we haven’t had dessert.”
“I’m not very hungry,” Laney said, giving her friend a hug and wishing everyone else a good night. As she left the room, their hushed voices followed her.
Laney looked up at the slate sky as she walked across the parking lot. Her heart felt just as heavy as those dark clouds looked, and she wished she hadn’t confided in her friend. Now she had to tell Noah—if he heard the news from someone else, he’d be crushed.
The air was ominously still as she got in her car, but by the time she pulled out onto Route 6, it had begun to stir, and as she turned onto Ocean View Drive, gusts of wind were thrashing the trees, sending leaves spiraling and spinning in front of her headlights. Finally, she pulled into their driveway, thankful that a tree limb hadn’t fallen on her car; almost immediately, she realized E’s car was gone, and she wondered where he was on this stormy night. She hurried toward the house, and lightning split the clouds; a second later, a huge clap of thunder exploded above her head. Almost tripping on the walkway, she saw a shadow of gray fly up under the shed roof, and she stopped to look. A glint of resolute and dutiful black eyes blinked at her; she looked in the nest and saw five tiny dark bundles of feathers. She backed away slowly, smiling, as the first fat drops of rain splashed her shoulders.
“I’m home,” she called, setting her things down. The house was oddly quiet, except for Mennie who struggled to his feet and padded over to greet her, his whole hind end wagging. “Hi there, old pie,” she whispered, kissing his snowy brow. “Where is everybody?” She looked down the hall and saw the light on in Noah’s study.
With Mennie at her heels, she walked quietly toward the light and leaned against the doorframe. “Hey,” she said softly.
Noah looked up in surprise. “Hey,” he said, taking off his glasses. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Probably ’cuz there’s a storm brewing.”
“I know. They said on the news we were going to get walloped, but hopefully it will cool things off a little.”
“I hope so.”
“How was the party?”
“Good.”
“What’d you have?”
“My usual,” she said with a smile.
“Scallops and Cape Codders?”
“Just scallops.”
Noah frowned. “No celebratory indulgences?”
“No.” She paused. “Where is everybody?”
“Asher and Halle are in bed.”
“Already?”
“Yup. He said he wasn’t hungry and then he went upstairs, and when I looked in on him, he was sound asleep.”
Laney frowned. “I hope he’s not coming down with something.”
“I hope not. And as for everyone else, Seth and Ben are on PlayStation, and Gabe is reading.”
“Where’s E?”
“Chloe came home, so he went to see her.”
“Did you ask him to try to be home at a decent time?”
“I did.”
Laney sat on the couch and picked up one of the pillows. “What happened here?” she asked, eyeing the stuffing coming out of the corner.
“I got hungry,” he said with a grin.
Laney rolled her eyes. “So do you think they’re getting too serious?”
“I don’t think they’re getting too serious. I think they are too serious.”
“They’re too young. . . .”
“And how old were we?”
Laney smiled. “We were too young too.”
“Well, he’s pretty smitten, just like I was. . . .”
“Was?” Laney asked.
Noah’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “And they’ve known each other forever. Besides, any girl who names a puppy Amen and is able to recite ‘Jabberwocky’ has something special going on.”
“I know. I’m just not ready for this. And I hope they’re being careful.”
“That’s all we can do,” he said, “hope and pray.” He sat down next to her. “So did Dottie like your gift?”
“She did,” Laney said, remembering Dottie’s happy surprise when she’d opened the gift cards from the first-grade teachers—it was for a spa weekend in Lenox. “I could use a gift like that,” she added wistfully.
Noah put his arm around her. “Well, maybe after you teach for fifty years, you’ll get one.”
“If I live that long . . .”
Noah frowned. “I’m just teasing.”
“I know,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Are you still stuck in worry mode?”
Laney nodded, and then shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure. . . .”
A shadow fell across Noah’s face as he watched her, and she took a deep breath. “Okay, so I had my mammogram last week, and then I had to go back for an ultrasound because the results were inconclusive because I have dense tissue,” she explained, purposely leaving out the word breast. “But that was inconclusive too . . . so today I had to go for a noninvasive proced—”
“A biopsy?” Noah asked in alarm.
Laney nodded, and Noah shook his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to worry. I wanted to be sure.”
“Lane, we’re in this together. . . .”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she tried to brush them away but they just kept coming. “I’m sorry, Noah.... I just want it to go away.”
Noah didn’t say anything. He just put his fist against his chin and stared at the light on his desk. Finally, he wiped his eyes with his thumb and fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Laney said again softly. “I should’ve told you.”
Noah turned to look at her, and she could see the pain in his eyes. “I asked you outright the other night . . . and you told me nothing was wrong.” He shook his head. “Lane, I want so badly to take you in my arms and tell you everything’s going to be okay. But now . . . I feel like you purposely kept this from me.” He looked away, wiping his eyes again. “I’m probably overreacting, but you know how I feel about this kind of thing. How many times have we drilled it into the boys’ heads?”
“I know. You hate it. But this isn’t like that. I wanted to tell you. . . . I even tried to tell you . . . but the words just wouldn’t come out.”
Noah stood up and walked over to his desk. “So when do you get the results?” he asked, sounding like she was the only one who would be getting the results.
“Next week, I guess,” Laney said, her heart aching.
Noah saved the sermon he’d been working on and closed his laptop. Then he turned off his desk light and leaned on the back of his chair, looking out into the darkness. Finally, he turned to her, his eyes still glistening. “Lane, if anything were to happen to you, I don’t know how I’d go on. Don’t you see? Everything that happens to you . . . happens to me.”
Laney bit her lip. “Honestly, Noah, I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“Well, thanks for looking out for me.”
“You know, if you think about it, you forget to tell me stuff all the time.”
“This is different, Lane. You didn’t forget. You purposely didn’t say anything.” He paused. “I’m heading up.”
“Okay,” Laney said sadly, feeling the sting of his words. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Laney listened to the thunder rumbling through the heavens and realized how much Noah was like her grandfather. A long-ago memory from her childhood slipped into her mind....
She must’ve been six or seven at the time, and she’d been standing on a chair, admiring her grandparents’ twenty-fifth anniversary plate. And then, because she couldn’t really see it that well, she decided to take it out of the china closet for a closer look . . . and just as she’d gotten it over her grandmother’s Hummel figurine of a little girl feeding chickens and ever so carefully through the door, it had somehow slipped from her hands, and Lyle, who was in the next room, ran in to see what happened. He found her sitting on the chair with her hands over her face, and the plate in a million pieces on the floor. In a worried, hushed voice, he told her to go hide in the barn and he would clean it up. An hour later, Gramp started looking for her; he called everyone—including Uncle Luke and all the neighbors—but Lyle never spoke up. Finally, Uncle Luke found her hiding in the loft of the barn, and somehow, later on, Gramp found out Lyle had known all along, and he ended up in more trouble than she was. She got a big hug from Gramp—even though the plate was broken—but Lyle had to sit on the porch the whole next day and think about what he’d done. She tried to tell Gramp it was all her fault—that Lyle had been protecting her—but Gramp wouldn’t hear it.
“That boy needs to learn to come out with it,” he said sternly, “no matter what the consequences.” Lyle did learn, and Laney would never forget the tears of relief that had streamed down his brown face when Gramp finally took him aside and talked to him . . . and hugged him too. There was no greater relief than being forgiven, and she knew in her heart that Noah would forgive her too . . . eventually.
Laney listened to the torrential rain spilling over the gutters, and then she heard an odd sound coming from the kitchen. She went to investigate and realized that one of the phoebes was frantically fluttering against the window. It was ten o’clock at night—how come she wasn’t tucked into her nest with her babies? Laney turned on the outside light, pushed open the screen door, and peered outside, wondering if she’d become disoriented. The bedraggled bird was perched on top of the railing, and it blinked at her and then flew to the back of the shed. Laney stepped out into the rain to make sure everything was okay, and although it was dark, she could see the nest. And now the phoebe was on the edge of it. “I wish I knew what was wrong,” she said, backing away. She hurried inside, and as she slipped off her wet shoes, she noticed Lucky curled up on the couch. He opened one eye and blinked at her.
Noah was snoring peacefully when she climbed into bed, and she listened to his steady breathing and wished she could fall asleep that easily. She’d often wondered, as she lay in bed at night, if her husband’s ability to fall asleep before his head hit the pillow was because he was so well versed at giving his problems over to God. She tried to give Him her problems too, but then she always pulled them back—lest they get away! On this night, she stared into the darkness, fretting about the odd behavior of the little bird and hoping E would get home safely. She also prayed she’d wake up to the smell of coffee and pancakes—a sure sign that Noah had forgiven her.
