“Knock knock.” Stephanie interrupted Josh at work.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
“Given everything, yeah. Things are okay. I brought lunch.” She held up a white paper sack. A grease line traced the bottom of the bag. In her other hand, she carried a drink carrier with two white Styrofoam cups.
“From The Garage?” Josh asked.
“The burgers Liz never lets us eat.”
“No chance those are chocolate milkshakes?” Josh pointed toward the drink carrier.
“What else would they be?”
Josh closed the folder he had been looking at and moved it out of the way. “Let me grab a few paper towels from the break room.” Walking down to the break room and back took him less than a minute. “Grabbed plates, too.” He raised them in the air and then separated them and set them in front of Stephanie.
She pulled the fries out first, then the burgers. She wadded up the bag and tossed it in his trash can. “Three points.”
“Not a chance, that was only worth two.”
The brother and sister laughed together. Josh started unwrapping his cheeseburger.
“Can I pray before we eat?”
“Ah, sure,” Josh said.
“Dear God, thank you for this meal that I get to share with my brother today. You see all this family has endured over the past couple of months. Please be our comfort and our strength, our ever-present help in times of trouble. Help Liz, Lord. She’s struggling. And please bless these greasy burgers. In Jesus’ precious name we pray, amen.”
“Amen.”
Josh held up his unwrapped burger and took a hearty bite. Stephanie watched him for a moment, then unwrapped her burger. She took a more reserved bite than her older brother. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Josh said offhandedly. He took another bite of his burger.
“Fine? Two months ago, you lost your son. Your wife found him, and she hasn’t been the same since. But you’re fine. None of it has even phased you?” Stephanie set her burger down and wiped her hands.
“What do you want me to say?”
“How are you really?”
“You know how we were talking about counseling the other night, after dinner?”
“I remember.”
“I’ve been seeing a counselor. I knew there was no other way to get through this. And Liz has been so mean lately.”
“Did something else happen?”
“Last night, before bed. I was trying to talk to her.” He hung his head and shook it. He set the burger on the plate and wiped his hands with a paper towel.
“What happened?”
“I think she blames me, Stephanie. She kept saying I should have been around more, for her and for the boys.”
“That doesn’t make what Colby did your fault. Surely she knows that.”
“I don’t think so. I already blame myself, but to hear my wife blame me? I don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe she just needs time. She knows this isn’t your fault.”
“Maybe it is my fault.”
“Don’t talk like that, Josh. This isn’t your fault. Colby was hurting and alone and he thought there was no other way to escape the pain he was feeling. I’ve been reading about suicide, and so many reasons why it happens. I wonder if Colby felt like a burden, and the best way, in his mind, to remove the burden for good was…”
Josh leaned back in his chair and gazed toward the painting on the wall. While his eyes were turned toward the colorful mountain range, he wasn’t really seeing the artwork. “He wasn’t a burden.”
“I know. But he lost that job, then his apartment, then he was stuck back at home.”
“He’d been drinking.”
“How do you know?”
“I found the bottles in his room. They were hidden.”
“Liz said you weren’t letting anyone go in there.”
“I don’t know what else they will find. I threw the bottles out. But if he was hiding his drinking, what else might he have been hiding? Drugs? Porn? I don’t want Liz or Tyler to find anything like that.”
“Does your counselor know what you found?”
“Yeah, yeah I told him.”
“That’s good. I’m worried about you, Josh. You don’t have to pretend to be happy and cheerful all the time.”
“What else am I supposed to do, Steph? I don’t want to come to work. I don’t want to leave Liz home alone all day. And even worse, I don’t want to be around her right now. Everything I do, think, or say is a raging war within me.”
“Liz has a counseling appointment with a guy I know today. I told her I was paying, and she was going.”
“We can afford counseling. It’s not a money issue,” Josh said.
“I know. I just thought she might feel more obligated to show up if it was my money on the line.”
“You’re too good to us.”
“I wish I could do more. I wish this hadn’t happened.”
“Me too.”
Silence settled gently between the brother and sister as they both munched on their burgers and fries. Stephanie unwrapped a wide, round straw and plunged it through the opening of the lid, into her thick chocolate milkshake.
“I’m worried because Liz never wants to get out of bed, let alone go do anything,” Stephanie said.
“That’s why I won’t agree to sell Dusty. At least twice a week I come up with an excuse and make Liz go feed her.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t want a horse. I don’t know the first thing about horses. But Liz needs some reason to get up and move around and see the sunshine. She’s actually brushing Dusty and petting her now. She is so terrified of horses. I had no idea.”
“Had she ever been around horses before?” Stephanie asked.
“No, never. But I just didn’t know she would be so afraid.”
“I’d probably be afraid too. They are huge. And aren’t they dangerous?”
Josh lifted his left shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure some of them are. Dusty is quiet though. Colby picked a special horse. I hope Liz keeps it up. Maybe she can start riding or something. It will give her something to do.”
“Liz said you want to learn to ride.”
“I considered it. I guess I still might, but it was just the best thing I could think of. I had a nagging feeling I should make sure we kept Dusty.”
“The Holy Spirit.” Stephanie hummed softly and smiled.
“I wish I had your faith.”
“Faith as small as a mustard seed… You know, at least you had your work to come back to.”
“It’s been a lifesaver. Something I can wrap my head around while everything else is chaos.”
“Have you thought about suggesting that Liz find a job? Just something to do. I know you don’t need the money.”
“She’s been a stay-at-home mom and wife all these years. I want her to be there for Tyler and I don’t want to shell-shock her. She would think it was about the money. Or worse, what if she thought I didn’t want to take care of her anymore? Nothing would be further from the truth. No, I don’t think a job is a good idea.”
Stephanie’s phone rang in her pocket. Josh gestured for her to check it and he took a drink of his milkshake. The thick, cold chocolate resisted climbing the straw, but he managed to get a mouthful.
“She didn’t show up?”
“Oh, her phone is going to voicemail?”
“Please charge my card for the session anyway. I’ll talk to her.”
“Thanks Carl. Have a good afternoon.”
Stephanie ended the call and dropped her phone back into her pocket.
“I take it Liz didn’t go to that counseling appointment?” Josh questioned.
“She did not.”
“Should you try to call her?”
Stephanie nodded and pulled her phone back out of her pocket. She dialed Liz, but just like Carl said over the phone, it went straight to voicemail.
“I think I should drive over to the house and check on her,” Stephanie said.
“I would appreciate that.” Josh crumpled up his burger wrapper and paper towels and then dropped them into his trash can. “Call me if anything is wrong.”
“Of course, I will.”
Between interruptions from traffic, Stephanie prayed on her way to Josh and Liz’s house. She prayed fervently that God would protect Liz and intervene if she was considering hurting herself. She asked Him to be evident to Liz, with her, comforting to her, and to give her peace that surpassed all understanding. Even knowing that pleading wasn’t necessary to move the heart of God, she found herself begging, pleading, and crying.
Liz’s car was parked in the driveway in its usual spot, but Tyler’s car was still gone. Parking her car along the curb in front of the house, she jogged up the driveway and pushed down on the lever to unlatch the door, but the handle only wiggled a little bit. As her fingers trembled, she fumbled with her keys to unlock the door to let herself in.
“Liz?” Stephanie called out as she came through the front door. No response. The house was eerily quiet. All the lights were off and there were no sounds aside from the soft hum of the refrigerator. The hair along Stephanie’s arms pricked up as little bumps rose on her skin. She shivered and pleaded with God under her breath.
The door to Liz and Josh’s room was cracked open just a sliver. She pushed on it.
“Liz?” she whispered into the darkness. “Liz? She said again as she neared the bed. She fumbled for the bedside lamp and clicked it on. Hiding under the covers, as she had been for weeks now, was Stephanie’s best friend. She tugged the blankets back and shook Liz gently.
“Wake up sleepy head.”
“I don’t want to wake up,” Liz whined.
“Let’s have a cup of tea.”
“I don’t want tea.”
“Get up, we are having tea and going for a walk.”
“I really don’t feel up to it today.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. Come along now.”
Stephanie curled her fingers around Liz’s wrist and tugged her upright. Liz patted her hair down, failing to conceal the dirty, knotted mess atop her head.
“You need a shower.” Stephanie tugged her onto her feet and walked her over to the bathroom. “You shower and I’ll make tea. Dress for a walk. We’re going to do a lap around the neighborhood.”
“I already told you that I’m not up for that,” Liz muttered.
Stephanie pointed into the bathroom and sent Liz toward the shower. Then she gathered dirty clothes from the bedroom floor and made her way toward the kitchen. The laundry room was situated just off the kitchen, between the kitchen and the garage. The washer was empty and the clothes in the dryer were the clothes Stephanie cycled the last time she had been over. She filled the washer with detergent and clothes and started the machine.
Back in the kitchen, Stephanie washed out the teapot, filled it with water, and set it on the stove to boil. Selecting two tulsi tea bags from the cupboard, she opened their paper wrappers and inhaled their earthy aroma. With the bags hanging out in mugs, waiting for boiling water, she got out the honey and the cream. She checked the pantry for snacks and found a can of peaches in heavy syrup.
“Dessert,” she said.
She split the can into two bowls, and she stuck a fork in each bowl. The kettle began to whistle, and the water running for Liz’s shower stopped rushing through the pipes. The kitchen became rather quiet when Stephanie removed the kettle from the burner.
Stephanie poured boiling water into the mugs with the tea bags and set the kettle in the middle of the stove to cool. Liz came out with her hair wrapped up in a towel, wearing soft capri shorts and a plain t-shirt.
“Want me to braid your hair before we go for our walk?” Stephanie asked.
“No, I’ve got it.”
Stephanie pulled her teabag up out of the steaming water, then dunked it back in. She repeated this three or four times and then did the same to Liz’s teabag.
“I read that doing that damages the tea and herbs in the bag and ruins the flavor or something,” Liz said.
“The British do it,” Stephanie replied with a who knows look and a shrug.
“How do you know the British do that to their tea?” Liz narrowed her gaze.
“I have my ways.”
“Not everything on the Internet is true.”
“That’s true.”
“Come do your tea the way you like,” Stephanie said.
They squeezed the water from their teabags, tossed them in the trash under the kitchen sink, and added honey and cream to their piping hot mugs. Stephanie added more honey, less cream. Liz added more cream, less honey.
“Peaches?” Stephanie pushed one of the bowls over to Liz and then leaned her hip against the counter. She ate one of the dripping, sweet peaches over the bowl. She was stuffed with the burger and milkshake, but she dared not say a word. Liz hated greasy burger joints and railed on about how places like that were killing everyone. Despite Liz’s opinion, Josh and Stephanie had, through the years, snuck off together for greasy burgers. It was their little secret.
Liz ate two of the peach quarters in her bowl. Setting her bowl on the counter, she curled her hands around her mug and drew the warm cup up to her chest. She inhaled the sweet steam from above the mug and a glimmer of peace softened the hard lines on her face.
“Carl called. He said you didn’t call or show up for your appointment. I was really worried about you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Liz asked.
“To check on you, yes.”
“I just forgot, Stephanie.”
“Which isn’t like you. It’s on the big weekly calendar. We’ve all been trying to keep it updated for you. We suck at it, just so you know. Color coding and understanding that calendar is your job. The rest of us are a mess when it comes to being when and where and where and when.”
“It’s just a calendar. Anyone can keep track of writing their appointments down and keeping a schedule,” Liz said.
“Sure, anybody can. But you are actually good at it.”
“I’m sorry I missed the appointment you set up. I just don’t think I want to go that route right now.”
“Okay,” Stephanie conceded.
“A walk does sound nice. I kind of miss our morning jogs.”
“We can start again as soon as you’re ready.”
“It’s been two months since I did any jogging. It may take a couple weeks to get my body back into it,” Liz said.
“Mine too,” Stephanie agreed.