Linda and her mother were to be waiting for them at the gate. Sheila could feel her heart thumping against her ribcage, and she squeezed Hank’s hand.
“Everything’ll be all right,” he said, glancing at her. “Don’t worry.”
She swallowed. Forcing herself to brighten, she joked, “At least I’m starting to feel my legs again, so I can run if I have to.”
Seconds later they were out of the tunnel and headed into the mob sitting and standing around the gate area. Sheila peered through the throng, trying to find her mother and sister.
“See ’em anywhere?” Hank asked.
“Not yet.” Sheila suddenly felt light-headed and took a deep breath. “If we just keep walking, they’ll—”
“Shelly! Over here!”
Mom! Sheila twisted her head to her left. There stood her mother, just outside the waiting area, wearing a blue short-sleeved cotton blouse and matching cropped pants, waving wildly. Beside her stood Gary, a tentative smile on his face, and beside him stood April, looking toward Sheila with apprehensive eyes.
But where’s Linda? She glanced at the people filling the space surrounding her mother and siblings, but her youngest sister was nowhere in sight. Maybe she’d gone to the bathroom. Sheila could only hope she hadn’t had another change of heart.
She glanced up at Hank, realizing her knees had turned to rubber. Hank squeezed her hand and released it, silently encouraging her to go over and greet her family.
Sheila dropped the handle of her wheeled carry-on as her emotions reawakened with a jolt. Both hands free now, she realized they were shaking. She felt more nervous than a pig in a butcher shop, as Hank would say. As she approached the trio, she instinctively reached out for her mother first. She held Sheila tightly for a long moment, as if afraid of losing her if she let go. When she finally did, Gary gave her a bear hug, then turned her toward April.
She smiled a nervous smile, but stood with her arms folded across her chest. For an uncomfortable moment, Sheila believed April might have been dragged there against her will.
“So,” April finally began, “is that your fiancé?”
“Yeah, that’s my Hank.”
“He’s kind of cute.”
“He’s very cute, thank you very much.”
At that point, their mother poked April’s arm. “Go ahead, baby, it’s all right.”
April let her arms drop to her side. “Can you ever forgive me for treating you like I did?”
Sheila stepped forward and hugged her like she used to when they were much younger, when April would hurt herself and Sheila would reach out to comfort her. Within seconds, both women were crying like babies, and all the pain built up over the last five years melted away.
If only it would be so easy with— “Where’s Linda?” Sheila asked, glancing around again. “I thought she was going to be here.”
Her mother, Gary and April all exchanged guilty glances, and looked away.
“Mom?” Sheila began, her heart plummeting. She had a feeling she knew what had happened.
“Um, honey, it’s not what you think.” Evelyn Carson reached out to touch her eldest daughter’s arm. “Linda’s not feeling well. She decided to meet you at home.”
“Mom. . . .” Gary’s tone held a warning, but he said no more when April elbowed his side.
Something was wrong, but Sheila could see they had some sort of agreement to keep quiet about it. Only the feeling of Hank’s strong arm wrapping around her shoulders kept her from exploding with frustration. She decided to play along, introducing Hank to each family member and keeping the conversation light as she and Hank rode home with her mother. At the beginning of the drive, Evelyn bombarded them with questions. That in itself would have been enough to make Sheila suspicious, since her mother believed in letting information come out in the normal course of conversation, as opposed to pestering people with questions. The tone she used confirmed to Sheila that she was definitely hiding something. It oozed with a syrupy cheerfulness Sheila had never heard in her voice.
About halfway through the drive, Evelyn became more and more reticent, until she was saying nothing by the time they reached the Rochester city limits. Sheila didn’t know whether to be worried or relieved.
Her mother spoke again after pulling into her driveway.
“Before you get out,” she said as Sheila reached for the door handle, “there’s something you need to know.”
Sheila turned to her mother, surprised to see tears filling her eyes.
“Your sister has leukemia.”
The words thrust through her like a sharp blade. Too stunned to move, Sheila stared at her mother as she explained the situation. Linda had been diagnosed eight months ago, had originally had a good prognosis, was now being cared for by a professional from hospice.
Hospice?
Evelyn stopped abruptly, studying her daughter’s face for comprehension.
Sheila’s mind whirled, but she understood. Her voice was raspy as she asked the only question she could articulate. “How long does she have?”
Not even Hank’s hand on her shoulder could console her this time.
“About a month. Maybe two.”
Another realization hit her, and anger joined the hurricane of emotions storming through her soul. “Nobody told me. Why didn’t anybody tell me? I have a right to know. She’s my sister, for God’s sake! She may hate my guts, but she’s my sister.”
Now, Hank had his arm around her and was pulling her to him. Evelyn had no answer as Sheila burst into tears, burying her face into Hank’s shoulder. Ten minutes passed before she deemed herself together enough to go inside and face Linda.
She lay under a sheet in what used to be her mother’s bedroom, breathing rapid, shallow breaths. An I. V. bag stood beside the bed, and Sheila wondered if it was doing any good. Linda’s body had shrunk to a skeletal-like state. Combined with the extreme paleness of her face, Linda appeared to be one of those living-dead creatures seen in a Freddy Kruger movie.
Swallowing a gasp, Sheila fought to keep her legs steady. Since Hank was in the living room, he was not there to hold her up.
Evelyn went over to the bed and gently shook Linda’s bony shoulder. “Linda, your sister’s here to see you.”
Linda’s eyes slowly opened. “Who? April?”
“Sheila.”
“You told her.” Her voice, though tired, clearly conveyed an accusation.
“But you—” Sheila was going to finish, “e-mailed me,” but stopped as the truth of the situation hit her like a sledgehammer.
Linda had never e-mailed her.
Her own mother had deceived her. Manipulated her. The whole trip had been a waste of time. She pivoted toward the door, swallowing a mouthful of bile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here.” After taking just two steps, however, her mother yanked on her arm with brute force. Sheila thought she was going to pull it out of its socket.
“No.” Evelyn’s eyes flashed anger. “This ends here and now. Nobody leaves this room until you two have kissed and made up. You understand? Nobody.”
To make her point, she dropped Sheila’s arm, stomped to the door and slammed it shut. She then folded her arms and stood in front of it, glowering at her daughters. “Now, stop being selfish and stubborn and scared this instant, and talk to each other.”
Sheila rubbed her sore shoulder, dumbfounded by the outburst. When she finally recovered enough to speak, Linda beat her to the punch.
“Mom read me Peter’s letter.” Each syllable sagged with weariness. “And she asked me if I forgave you.” She paused to catch her breath. “I told her I needed time. It was a shock, you know, like hearing from a ghost.”
Sheila made a cautious move toward the bed. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“I even thought you might have made it up.”
“I was afraid you would.” Sheila was now at Linda’s bedside, and sat down in the chair next to it.
“But you would never do any
thing like that.” Her lips began to quiver. “I might. I’m a horrible person.” She began to sob. “Peter never said he forgave me. And it was my fault. I’m the one who insisted—”
“It was nobody’s fault.” Sheila picked up Linda’s hand, awash in pity at the pathetic sight of her sister’s gaunt face contorted with grief. “It was an accident. Plain and simple. I’ve been through all the if-only’s about it, and the only thing it’s brought me is more torment and guilt. I’ve had to accept the fact that God doesn’t want us dwelling on the past, but to receive His forgiveness about it and move on.” She paused to wipe her own eyes. “Believe me, it hasn’t been easy.”
Linda hiccupped a couple of times, then took a deep breath. “But do you think,” she asked in a childish voice, “Peter ever forgave me?”
Sheila glanced up at her mother, who had moved away from the door and was gazing at Linda with a wrinkled brow. Then she looked back at her sister. “Did you ever tell Peter you asked me to go?”
Linda shook her head.
“Mom, did you?”
“Of course not.”
Sheila turned back to Linda. “I never did either. And nobody else knew.”
Linda burst into tears again, and Evelyn rushed to the other side of the bed and began caressing her hair. “Shhh, child, you’re not helping yourself.”
Several minutes passed before Linda composed herself enough to be able to speak. “God, Sheila,” she whispered, “I’ve been so awful. I hated you because I thought Peter hated me.”
So that was it. Although Peter had only openly expressed anger toward Sheila, he had cut off their whole family, and Linda must have taken it personally. And she didn’t want to be the only one suffering. The revelation should have infuriated Sheila, tempted her to spout revilings, made her want to never see her sister again. But instead, Sheila felt a peace settle over her, a peace more profound than she had ever known.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
Sheila knelt by the bed and gazed into Linda’s eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I can. And I do.”
CHAPTER 28
“Nervous?”
“Nah.” Hank’s sweaty palms belied his answer. “Okay, a little.”
Pastor Bill leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his back. “Ah-ha.”
The two men were seated in Pastor Scott’s office just before the wedding ceremony was scheduled to begin. For once, Hank was early, having arrived at the church at the same time as his pastor.
Hank grinned. “Okay, a lot.” He leaned forward, his shirt collar tugging at his neck. “What did you do on your wedding day to keep from sweating through your suit coat?”
“Alternated deep breaths with shallow, rapid ones.”
“Isn’t that Lamaze?”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
Hank joined Pastor Bill in his belly-shaking expression of mirth. When he paused to breathe, he realized he felt calmer than he had in the last twenty-four hours. Last night at dinner it was all he could do to keep his food down, and fought constantly to keep his mind on the conversations going on around him.
He grew serious. “Pastor Bill, I want you to know how much I appreciate. . .everything.”
Pastor Bill reached out to accept Hank’s handshake. “You’re welcome.” He glanced at his watch. “Well, we’d best be finding our seats, don’t you think?”
Hank had easily agreed when Sheila had asked him to let her pastor officiate the ceremony at what had been her church home. Pastor Bill and his wife were there as honored guests.
“You know the drill better than I do.” Hank stood up along with his pastor, whose height he exceeded by about five inches. They headed for the church sanctuary, and as they approached its doors, Hank’s parents entered the building.
His mother addressed him first. “Are you okay, Son?”
“Finer than the fur on a goose’s belly.”
He embraced her, then his father, who stared at him for several moments with a sober expression. Hank, sensing that he was about to give some profound fatherly advice, or quote a verse from the Bible, stood patiently, waiting for Randall to speak.
Finally, he said, “Geese don’t got no fur. They got feathers.”
“Don’t have any,” Brenda began in protest to Randall’s deliberate disregard for the rules of proper speech. It was drowned out, however, by the hearty laughter of the three men as Randall took her arm and resumed their walk into the sanctuary.
* * *
A thrill of joy overwhelmed Sheila as she walked down the aisle toward the altar, her arm linked in Gary’s. She had never seen him cry until the day she asked him to take their deceased father’s place and give her away at the wedding. She had maintained her composure, having shed enough tears in the last couple of months to fill a small ocean.
Wearing a simple ankle-length white dress and white sandals, Sheila smiled at all the eyes that turned to watch her make the life-changing journey. Several pairs belonged to immediate and extended family members from the North, happy to sacrifice the price of a plane ticket to attend the happy event. Although Linda had begun gaining weight in the two weeks since the two sisters reconciled, so reported their mother, she was still too ill to travel, and sent her best wishes and a gift.
To Sheila’s left she spotted Margaret, whose gaze held years of secret confidences and loving support. She and Daniel had flown in early the afternoon before from a summer vacation in the Northeast, and she and Sheila shooed away their husband and husband-to-be so they could linger over a cup of tea in one of the small airport cafés. They reminisced, counting the blessings and miracles in their lives, then spoke of future hopes and dreams. Sheila found herself asking all sorts of first-time bride questions, and the two were still engaged in deep conversation when the men returned two hours later reminding them of their dinner date with family and friends.
Sheila’s eyes then met Rosa Manriquez’, who sat in the next row. She had assured Sheila that she wouldn’t give up trying to start a more wholesome life, and now sent her a trembling smile full of unspoken gratitude. Sheila sent up yet another silent prayer on Rosa’s behalf, begging Jesus to reveal Himself to her.
Beside her sat her brother Miguel. She had felt awkward about inviting him, but Hank had encouraged her when they went over their impromptu guest list. After all, the groom-to-be reminded her, if it weren’t for him, the little girl who helped bring them together would have never been born.
She looked at the other side of the aisle, where her mother and April sat. Her mother dabbed at her eyes with a tissue while her sister beamed at her, as if the years of bitterness had never existed. Sheila smiled back, ignoring the pang in her heart that accompanied the thought that she could not stay in the country and make up for all the lost time.
After a sweeping glance at the rest of her family, she found the courage to look back at the row of chairs where Rosa sat. This time, however, she focused on the small girl whose face had once been a cruel reminder of Sheila’s ill-timed trip to the grocery store, in a car she wished she’d never bought. Now Sheila could look at Diana with love rather than fear and self-loathing, because she had released the ghost that she had initially identified with her quiet, somber student. Now Sheila saw Diana for who she was—a child gifted with vision that saw beyond the circumstances and into people’s heart.
She had never told Diana about the accident, about her eerie resemblance to Lorena. She was too young. Maybe one day when the time was right and Diana was at a place in her life where she needed to hear about the wonderful and often inexplicable workings of God, Sheila would tell her to what great extent the Lord had used her in her teacher’s life.
But I’ll probably never see her again. Sheila swallowed a lump in her throat to force back a rising tide of emotion. She decided she’d better concentrate on the task at hand.
Turning her face forward, she felt her heart leap in her chest. Not ten feet away stood the man who had helped her overcome h
er biggest obstacles, smiling at her with eyes that emanated love. The ten feet suddenly seemed like ten miles as she paced toward him at a snail’s speed. All the other people in the church melted away, and Sheila constrained herself from bursting forward and throwing herself into his arms.
Nothing in her past mattered. The future lay before her, bright with God’s blessing and hope.
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If this story has inspired you, given you a warm fuzzy, or otherwise helped you in a positive way, then you will probably like to continue on with the series. You can buy the entire series in a box set format. By doing so, you will save nearly half of the cost of purchasing each novel individually. It is available today at a great discount price.
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Now, for a peek at the next inspirational romance novel in this series, the first chapter of Guns And Rosa…
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The irony of her situation did not escape Rosa Manriquez. She had just left a wedding reception in north Fort Worth for a newlywed couple headed straight back to Zimbabwe to do missionary work, perhaps indefinitely. Rosa, on the other hand, was headed for her job as a topless dancer in a Dallas adult night club.
If she could go back ten years and make a different choice, she would. But now, she was stuck there. At least, until she started looking too old for the part. At thirty-five years of age, she was hoping that time may be coming up soon.
She turned up the air conditioning in her blue 1988 Camaro as she entered highway 183. With her past, she was an unlikely candidate for marriage. She would not let a man who would be good enough to marry, hook himself to her for life. It would not be fair to him. But if by some miracle she ever did marry, she decided she would not do it in the heat of the summer. At least her friends, Sheila and Hank Johnson, would be returning to the southern part of Africa, which was now – in late August, 1998 – in the winter season.
The traffic in front of her was practically standing still. She put on her brakes, eyeing the rearview mirror carefully as she did so to make sure the car behind her was slowing down, too. Not that she could do anything to keep an idiot driver from rear-ending her, but she didn’t need an accident on top of this slow-down. Her boss, Eddie E., did not like it when his girls were late.