Nine

Josie dusted a corner of the knick-knack table in the living room. She turned to another surface, but there was nothing to dust. Every surface had been wiped and scrubbed for days.

Her heart sank, and she lowered herself to the couch. They’d only been home a week, but she felt odd. Mark went to school. While she wouldn’t want his homework—he had a crazy amount as an engineering student—she would like the direction he had. And Kat lived life with an energy that left Josie longing for a fraction of it. Even Carolynn, her best friend, seemed to have moved on with a verve that left Josie wondering if her presence had mattered when she lived in Dayton.

Everyone seemed fine without her.

Why couldn’t she say the same?

Enough moping. She pulled on shoes, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door. The June sun beat down on her, and she wished she’d grabbed a hat to shade her eyes. Instead of going back upstairs to get one, she waved at Mr. Duncan as he swept the sidewalk in front of the store. With a quick glance for traffic, she ran up McMillan Street toward the library. When she reached it a few minutes later, she hesitated. Why had she come? She didn’t need any books, since the few she had needed to be read.

“Come in, dear.” She must have hesitated at the door too long since Miss Adelaide had come to her. “I hoped I’d see you today.”

“You did?”

“Wanted to talk to you about something. In out of the sunshine first. Can’t leave the desk too long, you know.” Miss Adelaide shooed her inside, returned to her seat, and smiled in satisfaction. “There now.”

“How can I help you?” Josie leaned against the desk.

“I’ll be taking a vacation this summer, and I need someone to mind the branch.” Miss Adelaide focused on Josie, while Josie’s mind rushed in confusion. Why tell her this? “My favorite niece is expecting her first child. There’s no way that event can happen without me. There’s just one problem.”

“There is?”

“Yes. Who will mind the library? The young lady who sometimes fills in for me has left town herself for the summer. And the student who works in the evenings isn’t interested in working from nine to nine all summer.”

“Surely someone from one of the other branches will step in.”

Miss Adelaide’s lips curved down. “They could. But they never come here. They don’t have a clue where things are or how we like them done.”

“Don’t all the branches use the Dewey system?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it, Josie. No need to get impertinent.”

Josie struggled to keep her face placid. No need to add to Miss Adelaide’s indignation. “So why tell me?”

“Why, you will take my place while I’m gone.” Miss Adelaide said the words as if they were clear to anyone with any sense.

“Me? I have no training.”

“Maybe. But you love books, you know the library, and you’re my choice.” Standing with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face, Miss Adelaide looked like she believed she could force her will.

Josie sighed. “We’ll have a little girl joining us in the next month. I don’t know that I can care for her and do something like this.”

“Bring her with you.”

“I don’t know that it’s that simple. I’m sure she’ll want to do other things.” And what would Art think?

“Well, you’re my choice. Talk to your husband and let me know if you can do it in the next week.”

Almost against her will, Josie nodded. Miss Adelaide might be small, but she had a forceful personality. “Let me look for a book.”

Miss Adelaide turned to help a patron without giving Josie another look. As Josie wandered the stacks, the idea grew on her. It could be a nice outlet for a few weeks. And surely Cassandra would like the library. What girl wouldn’t?

The evening passed slowly. Josie left supper warming in the oven as she waited for Art. The clock hands moved around its face while she waited. She picked up several books but couldn’t escape into any. By the time he made it home after nine, she couldn’t talk to him about anything. If she didn’t know better, she’d say there was smoke clinging to him. But he didn’t smoke.

He’d scarfed down his dinner, then settled on the couch with a paper.

“What kept you late tonight?”

He didn’t even look up. “A project, then out with a couple guys afterward.”

“I missed you.”

“They’ve been after me for months, so I thought now would be a decent time before Cassandra arrives.” The paper slid down so that she could see his face. “I assumed it would be okay.”

Josie nodded. “It’s fine. I just wondered.”

❧

Later the next morning, Doris slipped into the apartment, bringing the sweet smell of muffins with her.

Josie smiled when she saw the basket on Doris’s arm. “You must think I never eat.”

“You are on the thin side.” She patted Josie as she brushed by. “I hope Art likes you that way. Scott likes me with a little more padding.” Doris worked around the kitchen as if it was her own. “I’ve got Bible study in an hour. You should come.”

Josie tensed. “I won’t have anything in common with anyone.”

“You don’t know that. You bemoan not having friends here, but I don’t see you do anything about it.” Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “Time to quit whining and act. Besides, you won’t have any of these muffins unless you join me.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Teasing you with the scent and getting your coffee ready. You don’t have much time.”

Josie considered fighting Doris, but one look convinced her the only outcome was to give in with grace. “All right. When do I need to be ready?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Doris stated matter-of-factly as if it was the most natural thing in the world to walk into someone’s home and demand they do something.

Josie shook her head and hurried to her room.

An hour later, she followed Doris into the fellowship room of the church. Several knots of women gathered around the outskirts of the room or in chairs. While she and Art had attended a few Sundays with the Duncans, Josie didn’t know any of the women. Several glanced their way, but Doris led her to the coffee table. Setting her basket on the table, she pulled back the towel. The women quickly gathered.

“Are those your famous cinnamon muffins, Doris?” A tall redhead slipped between them.

“Yes they are, Rita. Would you like one?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d like more, but will have one.” She patted her tummy. “Still working on the baby.”

Josie considered her, then shook her head. “You look wonderful.”

“Tell that to Joey.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s been a year, and I have a couple pounds left. As long as Doris keeps bringing her treats, I think they’ll be permanent residents.” She winked at Doris. “Not that I mind.” She took a bite of the muffin, bliss settling on her face. “Yes, ma’am, these are delectable.” She startled. “Good heavens, I’m being a terrible hostess. My name’s Rita Brown. You are. . . ?” Rita extended a slender hand to Josie.

“Josephine Wilson, but my friends call me Josie.”

“Josie it is.” A woman stood up across the room and clapped her hands. Rita leaned close. “That’s the signal. Subtle, isn’t it?”

Josie stifled a giggle with her hand. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. But as the women discussed 1 Samuel 1, she reevaluated. Many of the women were Doris’s age or older. In all likelihood equally sweet, but not people she immediately connected with. She didn’t want a grandma telling her what to do. She wanted a friend who would laugh and cry with her. But many of the younger women were mothers with small children. Even though she enjoyed Rita, pain pierced her heart each time she saw Rita’s little girl. By now, her own stomach would have been firmly rounded, and no one would question her state.

It didn’t help that the scripture focused on Hannah and her desperate pleas for a child. Josie wondered if she’d ever understand why God allowed the things He did. Why could some women so easily have children, while others remained barren and desperately longing for a babe? Still other children suffered from illness or died at young ages.

She must have sighed out loud, for Rita patted her hand. She leaned close. “You all right, Josie?”

Josie sniffed and nodded. Doris leaned across Josie toward Rita. “This is a hard topic for the girl.”

The leader sent pointed looks their way, but Doris and Rita continued to talk over Josie. Josie shrugged an apology to the woman. It wasn’t her fault that the lesson hit so close to her heart. Or that her neighbors had decided now was the time to discuss her. She elbowed Doris and frowned.

Doris winked at her and went back to talking about Josie as if she weren’t there.

Josie tried to ignore them, but a thought kept flashing through her mind. What if Doris had insisted she come today because of the topic? What if she’d decided Josie needed more than a new forum to meet people? A swirl of emotions played through her at the thought she’d been manipulated. She tried to pull her thoughts back to the passage, but each time she did, another pang went through her.

A woman across the circle wiped moisture from her face. What caused her tears? Had she lost a child, or was she unable to have one? Josie felt pressure build in her nose as she imagined the woman’s story. Pain welled up, and she forced back tears that weren’t focused on her own loss.

This was crazy! She had enough to handle without adding another’s pain to her own. She should get up and leave. Let Doris explain for her. Instead, she pushed her chair back and read the passage.

Hannah had begged for children, longed for them, made vows to God to obtain them. And God eventually heard her. Then He allowed her to have Samuel. The praises overflowed from her heart.

Josie had not longed for children with such a passion. Until she had lost this child, it had been a distant idea, something that would occur in the future. As the conversation swirled around her, she lowered her head.

Father, help me seek Your face in the midst of this. I don’t want to forget this life I lost, but I also don’t want to linger in the grief. Help me move forward. Bring me to a place that I can rejoice in You again. Not because of what You might give me. Not to entice You to grant my requests. But praise You because of who You are.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as peace filled her heart. For a moment, it seemed God had come down and danced over her. She soaked in His presence, desperate to memorize it. She didn’t know how long it would last, but she wanted to capture the feeling for the hard days that would come.

God hadn’t forgotten her.