Twenty-five
“So how goes life in the art department?” Harris asked Megan after school on Friday.
She retrieved her reusable lunch sack from the break-room fridge, then sighed. “One more week. Just one more week.”
“That bad, eh?”
She forced a smile. “No, it’s actually gotten a lot better. I did take your advice about music, and I even brought donut holes several times. But the kids are so antsy. It’s like they’re literally climbing the walls.” She shook her head at the memory of how she’d caught Jackson doing some kind of cartwheel on the cement wall in the art room. But she had not sent him to detention for it.
“Don’t take it personally. They’re always like this at the end of the year.”
“Well, next week, I plan to take the class outside. We’re going to sketch trees and whatever we can find on campus.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“Unless they decide to run away.”
He nodded. “And that could happen.”
“I figured.”
They were both heading out the door now. “So, how is that MIA boyfriend of yours? Any word from Africa?”
“The guys have sent messages via our church,” she admitted. “Not much information, really, but they’re alive and the well is coming along, and they seem to be making some good connections with the locals.”
Harris nodded, but with a knowing sort of look.
“Okay, you’re probably wondering what kind of a boyfriend goes halfway around the world and doesn’t even communicate with his girlfriend.”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“Marcus is a good guy.”
“Uh-huh.”
Megan was at a loss for words. She knew she was expected to say something like, “And I know our relationship is rock solid and when he comes home, we’ll still be together, yada yada yada, blah blah blah.” But she also knew that wasn’t really true. For all she knew, Marcus had moved on. Not only geographically, but romantically as well. Still, she wasn’t about to admit this to Harris.
“Have a good weekend,” she said as she turned down the hall toward the art room.
“You too,” he called out cheerfully. “And if you ever get lonely or need to talk, my number’s in the book.”
“Thanks,” she called back. Not that she would take him up on this offer. She was only being polite. Besides that, she had a full weekend planned, so full that she had begged out of the family reunion her mother was attending. Tomorrow her church was having a rummage sale to earn money for Zambia. And later that evening was Lelani’s big shower at the Mendezes’. As for Sunday, well, Megan planned to crash and prepare herself for her final week as a middle-school art teacher.
She went into the art room and looked around. Despite the crazy kids and the trials they had put her through (perhaps were still putting her through), Megan really liked this job. She especially liked it when she connected with a student, like today. when she’d complimented Morgan Franz on her charcoal sketch and then witnessed the quiet girl’s eyes spark happily. Suddenly they were engaged in a real conversation about light and shadow and how it was kind of like life.
“It’s all about contrasts,” Megan told her. “If we didn’t experience darkness, we might not appreciate light.”
“I suppose the dark times do make the light times seem brighter,” Morgan admitted.
“And everyone has to go through some kind of darkness at least once in a while,” Megan told her.
“Sometimes it seems like the darkness never ends.”
Megan nodded as she placed a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “I know exactly what you mean.”
And then there were students like wild-child Jackson, who had tried her patience again and again, but it seemed that his attitude toward her had changed ever so slightly. Maybe it was because she’d been trying to show her students that she cared, not just about their performances in class, but about their lives as well. That felt good.
She loaded the last of the ceramics into the kiln then turned it on to fire. By Monday these pots would be ready for their final glaze. She liked to think this wasn’t really the end of a very short career. But so far, no one had made mention of Megan being at Madison next fall. As far as she knew, Heather would return to teaching art and Megan would be job hunting. Still, she was trying to keep a positive outlook. And she was trying to trust God for her future, even though, as Morgan had said, the darkness seemed endless.
Megan swept up the pottery dust and dumped it into the garbage can, then turned off the lights. If she hurried, she could catch the next metro and make it home by five. Not that she had anything to look forward to particularly. As she gathered her bag, she remembered how she used to look forward to Friday nights and doing something with Marcus. Now those memories seemed as remote as Zambia.
As she rode the metro, Megan thought about Kendall’s idea to bring Nana back to Bloomberg Place. Megan’s first reaction had been to say no. But after giving it some thought, she looked forward to helping care for Mrs. Weis. She liked the old woman and could understand Kendall’s concern for her being shut away in the nursing home. If nothing else, it might make for an interesting summer. And it would buy Megan some time to figure out her life, which felt as if it was being turned completely upside down.
She remembered how life had been last June. Her father had just been diagnosed with cancer, and then, too quickly, he was gone. She felt a lump in her throat. It had only been a year. So much had happened since then, both good and bad. Yet, just this past spring, she had felt that her life was falling neatly into place, almost as if she finally had some kind of control. Now that seemed laughable. She thought of all the pieces of her life that were spinning farther and farther away.
Her mother’s house was on the market and would probably sell before summer ended. Her friends were getting married and leaving. Her boyfriend was quite likely not her boyfriend any more. She would soon be unemployed. And, unless this thing worked out with Kendall’s grandmother, Megan might just find herself homeless. Oh, she knew her mother would welcome her back, but that wasn’t the same as being on her own.
Megan didn’t particularly like the idea of having her little pity party on the metro, and yet it did seem a fairly good place to feel sorry for oneself. Until she looked around.
She saw others who seemed even more down and out than she was. There was a mother with two small children and a vacant, lonely expression in her eyes. And a man with his head hanging down, reeking of alcohol and hopelessness. Megan made an effort to smile at people like this. She had no idea if it made the slightest bit of difference in their world, but it helped her to feel better about hers. She was determined not to give in to despair. Instead, she would put her hope in God. Really, what else was there?
After getting off the metro, Megan always enjoyed walking the last few blocks toward Bloomberg Place. The walk helped to clear her head, and the weather had been spectacular lately. They were all hoping and praying that it would continue like this for next weekend’s weddings, both of which were planned for outdoors, although they had backup plans for rain since this was, after all, Oregon.
So far, things had fallen into place for Lelani and Gil’s wedding. Megan gave God the credit for most of this, since it seemed somewhat miraculous. Or maybe it was the result of keeping things simple. Kendall’s wedding, on the other hand, seemed to be all over the boards. Her mother changed her mind constantly and, as a result, the plans became layer upon layer of complication. Megan felt sorry for Kendall, but at the same time she was amazed at how Kendall seemed to go with the flow, keeping her focus on the fact that she and Killiki were going to live happily ever after. Megan sure hoped that would be the case.
But when she entered the house to find Kendall on her knees with her face buried in the cushions of the sectional and sobbing her heart out, Megan didn’t know what to think. She dropped her bag and ran over to Kendall’s side. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Kendall turned around and threw her arms around Megan and sobbed even harder.
“Is it Killiki?” Megan asked urgently. “Is he—”
“No,” Kendall cried. “Killiki is okay.”
“The baby?”
“No, not the baby.” Kendall pulled away now, wiping her wet face with her hands.
“What then?”
“Nana!”
“What happened?”
“She—she died!” Now Kendall started to cry even louder.
Megan wrapped her arms around Kendall again. “I’m sorry, Kendall. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her.”
Kendall cried for a while longer and then finally started to hiccup. “I—uh—I just feel so—uh—sad.”
“Let me get you some water.” Megan hopped up and hurried to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a box of tissues. “Here, drink this.” She waited as Kendall gulped down the water.
“Thanks.” Kendall took in long, ragged sigh. “I’m sorry to be such a basket case. But I just can’t believe it.”
Megan patted Kendall’s back in soothing way. “I understand.”
“I wanted to take her dress shopping to—tomorrow. I—called her nursing home to see—to see if she was better—she’d been sick. And they told me she died.” Kendall’s chin started to tremble. “Just like that.”
“That seems a bit harsh.”
She nodded. “So I called Dad. And he had already heard about it. But he—he didn’t even call me to tell me.”
“Maybe he didn’t understand that you and Nana were close, Kendall.”
She sniffed and Megan handed her a tissue. “But Dad acted like it wasn’t a big deal. He said she was old—that she’d had a good life—and that I shouldn’t let it spoil the wedding.” She was crying again. “But I wanted Nana to come to my wedding!”
“I know you did.” Megan sighed. “And maybe she will. You know. Maybe she’ll be watching from someplace else.”
“I don’t know.” Kendall wiped her eyes. “I don’t even think she was a Christian, Megan.”
Megan didn’t know what to say.
“What if she wasn’t?” Kendall looked intently at her.
“What if she was?” Megan said kindly.
“But how?” Kendall frowned. “She never went to church or anything.”
“A lot of people find God outside of a church. Didn’t you?”
Kendall nodded. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“There are some things we just have to trust God to take care of, Kendall. Things that are out of our control. This might be one of them.”
Kendall blew her nose loudly, then looked up with a hopeful expression. “Do you think it’s possible to pray in reverse?”
“Pray in reverse?”
“You know, pray backward. Instead of praying for something in the future, you pray for it in the past? Like could I pray for Nana to be okay with God now?”
Megan considered this. “Well, God isn’t limited to our earthly clocks and calendars, so it might be worth a try.”
“Will you pray for her too?”
Megan thought this sounded a little strange, not to mention childish, but then she remembered a Scripture where Jesus tells his disciples to have childlike faith. Maybe that was what Kendall had. “Sure,” she told her. “I’ll be happy to pray.”
“Right now?” Kendall asked eagerly.
“Why not?” Megan reached for Kendall’s hands and they both took turns praying “in reverse” for Nana to have come to faith before her life ended.
“Amen,” said Megan when it seemed their backward prayer had ended.
“Thank you so much!” Kendall hugged her again. “I still miss Nana, but I feel better. And now I better get over to Kate’s house. My dad mentioned they’re having some kind of a family meeting regarding Nana. Not that I was invited, but that’s not going to keep me from going.”
Megan laughed. “You know, I think you and your Nana had a lot in common, Kendall.”
“Really? How so?”
Megan considered her words carefully. No way did she want to insult Kendall or her deceased grandmother. “Well, you both have very resilient spirits. You’re both witty. And you both have style.”
Kendall stood a little straighter as she patted her tummy. “Thank you.”
Kendall had just left when Anna came home. Once again, she was carrying a large, elegant bouquet of roses. Only these were red.
“Are those for tomorrow night’s shower?” Megan asked curiously.
“No way.” Anna shook her head. “These are my roses.”
“Who sent them?”
“Edmond.”
Megan blinked. “Really?”
“But he didn’t send the yellow ones.” She set the bouquet on the dining room table. “Those were from Chelsea, a friend at work. I’d helped her with something.”
“Okay, I get that.” Megan studied Anna. “But Edmond sent these? I assume you know what red roses symbolize, right?”
Anna nodded with a big smile, then began to explain how Edmond had kidnapped her from her desk and taken her to lunch at a very nice restaurant, where he explained everything and apologized for hurting her, then swore that Lucy meant nothing to him.
“He said he wants us to start all over again.” She sighed. “Then these roses showed up at my desk this afternoon, and the card simply said, ‘To Anna with love, your Edmond.’”
“And how do you feel about all this?” Megan asked, although judging by Anna’s expression, she was over the moon.
“I told him that I’d like to start over too.” Anna beamed at her.
“That’s fabulous news. I’m really happy for you.”
“I’m still kind of in shock.”
“Kendall’s had a bit of a shock too.” Megan used this segue to break the news about Kendall’s grandmother.
“Oh, no!” Anna put her hand over her mouth. “Poor Kendall—and right before her wedding! How is she doing?”
Megan filled in more details, even mentioning the praying-in-reverse thing. “I wasn’t really sure, but it seemed like it couldn’t hurt. And Kendall felt better.”
“That’s kind of like lighting candles at church for people who’ve passed,” Anna said thoughtfully. “I think it makes perfect sense.”
Lelani and Emma came in, and Megan and Anna took turns sharing both the happy and sad news with them.
“Wow,” Lelani said as she sat Emma down on the floor to crawl around. “That’s overwhelming. I don’t know whether to celebrate or sob.”
“For now we should probably focus on Kendall,” Anna suggested. “Having a family member die just a week before your wedding—it won’t be easy.”
“What can we do to help her through this?” asked Lelani.
“Just be her friends and love her.” Megan felt Emma tugging on her shoelace and bent down to pick her up. “What could be better than that?”
“Nothing that I can think of,” said Lelani.
“I agree.” Anna nodded.
Megan felt exceedingly thankful for her friends, but she was also aware that the death of Kendall’s grandmother probably meant that she and Anna would each need to find other places to live at the end of the month. In fact, she suspected that the family meeting Kendall had just crashed was related to her grandmother’s estate, including the house on Bloomberg Place, which would probably be sold now for sure. Really, it seemed this was the end of an era. Change was roaring down the railroad track like a freight train, and there was no way Megan could stop it.
In her room, Megan flopped down on her bed and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and consciously pushed away her doubt and fear as she imagined herself lying in the hand of God … trusting him to care for her … believing that he could keep her safe … and that he would keep her from falling.