Author's ramblings: School is a bear, you guys! AngieBaby and I have both
been SO busy! We're very sorry for making you wait and wait for our next
installment. Please bear with us! Anyway, here's chapter 11.
Please see the disclaimer in chapter 3. "TBAA" isn't ours!
Chapter 11 (by AJ)
By now, it was early afternoon. Tess said her farewells to her "angel babies," promising to return soon. Monica thought she might check in on Estelle. And Andrew decided he ought to take a quick shower before his interview. The hot water felt wonderful and helped relax away some of the tension and nervousness he had about the meeting with his hopefully-future employer. After drying off, Andrew pulled on a tee-shirt and boxer shorts, hung his towels up to dry, and wiped the mirror clean of fog. Looking in the glass, Andrew combed through his wet hair, then ran a hand over his face. He needed to shave. As an angel, Andrew had never had to worry about shaving. Now, he wasn't sure he knew what to do. Pulling out his toiletries kit - which Tess had carefully, knowingly, and amusingly packed - Andrew found a razor and a can of shaving cream.
"All right," he said to himself, "this can't be that hard. I put the shaving cream on my face." As Andrew filled the sink with a puddle of water, he read the directions on the can. He shook the container, popped the cap off, and pushed the button on the nozzle. To his delight, a pile of musky foam filled his hand. "Simple enough," Andrew mused, covering his whiskers with the foam. The next step included the razor.
"Where do I start?" Andrew asked himself. He picked up the razor and decided to begin just below his left sideburn. A few swipes of the blade later, Andrew had cleared a smooth path along his cheek. "I can do this. No problem!" he boasted aloud. Monica giggled from her place just outside the bathroom door. This, she had to see. Silently, Monica cracked the door open and peeked inside. Andrew noticed nothing. He had finished an entire cheek without a single cut! He thought he might take his chances on his neck now.
"Ouch! Ooh!" Andrew exclaimed as his first stroke with the razor against his neck slit the skin. Promptly, blood trickled out. For a second, Andrew was surprised and dazed by the blood streaming from his own human veins. Monica had no momentary paralysis; she jumped right into action.
"Oh, Andy!" She burst through the bathroom door and hurried to snag a tissue with which to stop Andrew's bleeding. Andrew was startled by Monica's unexpected entry, but instantly glad for her presence. She pressed the tissue to Andrew's cut, inducing a clot to form.
"So? No problem?" Monica teased as the blood stopped flowing out. Andrew blinked away his astonishment. He laughed.
"Do you want me to help you?" Monica offered.
"Since when did you become a master at shaving faces?" Andrew chuckled.
"I didn't see you do a very good job," Monica replied.
"Hey!" Andrew feigned being insulted, "I was doing a perfectly fine job until.until I got to my neck." He paused, the image of his own blood oozing out of his own skin still lingering in his mind's eye. Monica would never hurt him. "All right," Andrew relented. "You want to try?" He handed her his shaving razor.
"I'll be careful, I promise," Monica vowed, accepting the tool and dipping it in the basin of water. She climbed up on the countertop and knelt in front of Andrew, assessing his fine-featured face. True to her word, Monica smoothed Andrew's face without putting upon him even a single cut. She then took a washcloth, soaked it in warm water, and tenderly wiped away the remaining shaving foam.
"There. All done," Monica announced, caressing Andrew's cheek with the back of her hand. "And I did a good job, if I do say so myself."
Andrew ran his hand over his face and pretended to scrutinize his features in the mirror. Then he grinned broadly and leaned in to peck Monica on the cheek. "Well, Moni, if I don't get this construction job, you can work in a barbershop. On second thought, I think I'd be too jealous. I'd rather have you as my personal keeper."
"I get to keep you? I can live with that," Monica replied coyly.
**********
As if on cue ("as if"?) Tess pulled her red caddie up to the curb as Andrew stepped off the porch. He had been wondering how on Earth he was going to get to the Martin Brothers' headquarters, but he should have known that the Good Lord would take care of him. Tess honked the horn and called, "Get in, Angel Baby! You've got a job to apply for!"
Tess decided to make some small talk on the drive. "What do Monica and Estelle have planned for the afternoon?"
"They were making lunch when I left," Andrew replied. He was more nervous now than he had been since finding that ad.
"You mean to tell me you're going on an interview on an empty stomach?" Tess scolded.
"Oh, Tess, I don't think I could eat anything," Andrew moaned.
"Now listen here, Angel Boy," Tess admonished, "You don't have a thing to worry about on this interview. You're intelligent and articulate, and you have more life experience than everyone else they'll interview combined. You just be yourself; everything will be just fine."
Andrew took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He and Tess practiced what he might say during the interview for the rest of the ride; soon, Tess parked in front of a construction site where a makeshift sidewalk led to a trailer marked "Office."
"Site office," Andrew reasoned, "I suppose they like to interview people on the working grounds."
"That makes sense Angel Baby," Tess soothed, knowing that Andrew was only talking to calm his nerves. She paused. "Don't you think you ought to go in?"
"Yes. Yes, here I go," Andrew climbed out of the car and shut the door with resolve.
"Now you'll be just fine, Baby. I don't know how long your interview will take, but St. Mary's Hospital is six blocks south of here," Tess gestured in the southerly direction. "That's where I'm working. Fifth floor. Come there and find me when you're done."
"All right Tess. Thanks," Andrew replied, "The next time I see you, I'll be an employed man."
"Now that's the way to think. Break a leg in there, Angel Boy," Tess encouraged. She waited until Andrew entered the makeshift office before uttering a quick prayer and driving away.
**********
Taking a deep breath, Andrew knocked on the door to the office and, when a voice beckoned, opened the door and stepped inside.
"Hello. Can I help you?" the woman behind a mahogany desk asked as she rose from her seat.
"Hi. I'm Andrew.Andrew Jones. I read an ad in the paper that said you're looking for workers?" Andrew stepped up to the desk to take the woman's outstretched hand.
"We certainly are," the woman shook Andrew's hand, smiling warmly. "I'm Elizabeth Martin. My husband and his brother are the "Martin Brothers" you read about. Please, sit down. I'm in charge of personnel, so you'll do your interview with me. Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, but thank you." Andrew took the seat Elizabeth motioned him into. Andrew was a good judge of character, and, even after that short exchange, surmised that Elizabeth was a pleasant, easy-going woman.
"Just want to get this over with, huh?" Elizabeth teased knowingly. "Most people are nervous on interviews, but don't worry; I won't bite."
Andrew laughed and relaxed visibly. After all, he had been on interviews before, and he was good with people. Tess was right; he'd be just fine.
"Do you have a resume?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oh. No, I don't. I didn't know I needed one," Andrew blushed. Then he chuckled in his embarrassment, "I suppose that's common sense, but I didn't even think about it."
Elizabeth shrugged, "Well, it's always a good idea to bring a resume to a job interview, but you're not the first person to come without one. It's partially our fault; we don't explicitly say in our ad to "bring a resume." You know how legally-minded everyone is these days; if it's not in writing, it's not law." She smiled good-naturedly. "I'll just have you fill out this job application then." She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a folder from which she drew a thin packet of paper. Handing the paper - the job application - a clipboard and a pen to Andrew, she continued: "Why don't you take one of those chairs by the window; I know I'd be self- conscious if someone watched me fill something out."
"Thanks," Andrew replied with a sheepish grin. He took the materials to a chair near the office windows and filled the application out as best he could. He had so many more jobs than he could fit into the "previous experience" section, so he wrote in his most recent five. When he'd put down as much information as he could fit into the application, he reported, "I'm done here. Are you ready for me?"
"Of course. Come on back over and sit down again," Elizabeth replied with a smile at Andrew.
Andrew did as directed, handing his application to the woman across the desk from him. Elizabeth scrutinized it, nodding as her eyes moved across the words. "You've had some very interesting jobs," she noted when she was finished. "What makes you want to get into construction?"
Andrew was ready for this one, and he spoke from the heart. "I've spent time as a builder before - it wasn't one of my most recent jobs, so I didn't put it down in the application - but I loved it. The thought of constructing a home or a fire station or a hospital always excited me and drove me to work harder even when I was exhausted. I love to help people, and putting up buildings that people need is, I think, one of the most important jobs someone can have."
Elizabeth grinned widely, quite pleased. Something told her that Andrew was the man she'd been looking to add to her employee team. "I think that's the most enlightened answer I've ever heard. You've got yourself a job, Mr. Jones. Do you have time now to fill out the payroll paperwork? You can start working tomorrow."
"Thank you so much," Andrew gushed, reaching across the desk to shake Elizabeth's hand. She chuckled at his earnestness, and was sure then that she had made a good hire. They spent the next half-hour filling out employment papers. After a final handshake, Andrew promised to see Elizabeth the next morning at 7:30 sharp. As he left the office, Andrew offered a prayer of thanks to the Father and began his walk to the hospital to find Tess. On the way, Andrew passed a bus station and picked up a bus schedule. To his fortune, he found that a bus had a pick up stop just a few blocks from Estelle's house. He could get off right there at the station, not far at all from the work site. Another prayer of gratitude got Andrew all the way to St. Mary's.
**********
Monica was washing the dishes. She and Estelle had just made cookies, and Estelle was taking a new batch out of the oven.
"Mmmm, Estelle! They smell wonderful," Monica complimented. Estelle had done most of the preparation work; a good thing, because Monica could ruin even cookies. These were for Christmas, and Monica had delighted in decorating them. When this batch was cool enough, she would get to frost and sprinkle them too. Though it was still summertime, Estelle liked to get a head-start on her Christmas baking. The kids *always* came for the holidays.
"They look wonderful too. You've done a terrific job with the decorations," Estelle replied. She wished she sounded cheerier, but she had been fighting a backache all day. She set the full baking sheet on the counter and began to lift the warm cookies off it. One by one, she placed the cookies on a piece of waxed paper where they would cool until Monica could decorate them.
As Estelle set the last cookie on the paper, Monica set the last dish in the drying rack. There would be a few more dishes to do when the pair was done baking, but the majority of the clean-up was finished.
"I think I'm going to sit down for a minute, Monica," Estelle announced, pulling a chair from the kitchen table and resting in it.
"Are you all right?" Monica was instantly concerned. She sat in the chair next to Estelle.
"Just a backache, dear." Estelle tried to smile. Monica regarded her with unease.
"Maybe you ought to rest?" Monica suggested.
"What does it look like I'm doing right now?" Estelle teased, though her heart wasn't in it.
"I meant, maybe you ought to-" Monica was cut off by Estelle's gasp. "Monica! Oh my gosh! I can't." Estelle's face paled as she realized that her legs had gone numb.
"Estelle? What is it? What's wrong?" Monica was out of her seat and kneeling at Estelle's side instantaneously.
"I can't feel my legs! Monica!" Estelle was in a state of near-panic. Monica had been researching MS, and she knew that it affected the nerves. Sometimes, attacks would bring on numbness. She didn't know, however, how to remedy the problem. She felt the need to act quickly.
"Take a deep breath, Estelle," Monica soothed, fighting her own rising fears. She took Estelle's trembling hand. "I'm going to call 911."
Monica rode with Estelle in the ambulance to St. Mary's hospital, holding Estelle's hand the entire way and talking to her, trying to keep the older woman calm. At the hospital, Estelle was whisked up to neurology and her doctors were paged. Despite Estelle's pleas, Monica had to remain in the waiting room because she "wasn't family." Collapsing on the couch in the otherwise-deserted neurology waiting room, Monica cried. She couldn't imagine losing the feeling in her legs. How frightened Estelle must be!
"It's all right Baby," a bourbon voice whispered in Monica's ear.
"Tess!" Monica looked up to find Tess sitting next to her. She couldn't help it; Monica threw her arms around her mentor.
"I know you're worried, but you did the right thing by bringing Estelle here. She's in good hands," Tess soothed. "But dry those tears, Angel Girl. You've got work to do."
"I have?" Monica sniffled, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Tess handed her.
"Don't you think you ought to make a few phone calls?" prompted Tess.
"David and Marcie! Oh, Tess, they have to come now!" Monica exclaimed.
"Well, they don't *have* to, Baby, but I have a strong feeling that they will," Tess replied.
"Who will do what?" a voice called from the doorway.
"Andrew!" Monica found herself relieved now that both of her best friends were there.
"Monica? What are you doing here?" Andrew was surprised. "Oh no! What happened?" He sat down on the couch beside Monica.
"Estelle is here, Andrew. She said she couldn't feel her legs." Tears formed in Monica's eyes again. Andrew took her hand.
"MS affects the nerves; sometimes people with MS lose feeling in parts of their bodies," Tess offered, though Andrew hadn't asked. He had learned a few things about MS since living with Estelle too.
"Will she be all right?" Andrew inquired.
"Her doctors are with her now. We don't know anything yet," Tess answered.
"Has anyone called Marcie and David?" Andrew squeezed Monica's hand. She was biting her lower lip.
"You read my mind, Angel Boy." Tess smiled maternally.
"C'mon, Moni. You feel up to making a phone call?" Andrew whispered. Monica nodded.
**********
Marcie had just finished giving a St. Bernard puppy his check-up when the call came from Monica. Her heart hit the floor. In a blur, she asked her husband, Evan, to take the rest of her appointments that day; she had to hurry to her mother. Evan readily agreed, promising also to pick the girls up from daycare. He would be waiting by the phone for her to call the second she had any news. He kissed her, told her he loved her, and let her fly out the door of their veterinary office. Marcie was in the car and on the road before she allowed herself to think about Mom.
David was in his machine shed when the phone rang. He had finally repaired the feed bunk, and hoped beyond hope that the auger wouldn't jam again. He was actually in a pretty good mood until Andrew told him that his mother was in the hospital. David's stomach turned to ice, and rushed out to the field where his wife, MaryAnne, was baling hay. She and David hurried home where David showered in record time. MaryAnne would be alone for milking and chores that night, but Alexander always tried to be a big help. He would be home from school soon. MaryAnne didn't mind working alone; she worried about Estelle. With a kiss and a promise to phone as soon as he had any news, David hopped in the car and was on the road before he really let Mom sink into his thoughts.
Marcie couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks as she maneuvered the highways. She called her mother every week, mailed her pictures the girls drew, but had rarely gone to spend time with her since her dad had died. The house just feels so empty without Dad, and it's too hard to watch Mom get older, especially since MS is taking its toll on Mom, Marcie had reasoned. Now, she found that she was actually jealous of Mom's new tenants. Monica and Andrew were there for Mom, and Marcie hadn't been. She wanted to hate Andrew and Monica, but couldn't. It was her own fault for not visiting, for not being there. Marcie hated herself for her selfishness.
David wanted to cry. He hadn't gone to see his mother much since Dad died. Oh, sure, he phoned her every week, sent her copies of Alexander's schoolwork, but he didn't talk to his Mom in person very often. He reasoned that the farm kept him too busy to visit. He loved his job, and the farm had been handed down to him from his parents in the first place. Now, though, in the moment of crisis, David knew that the farm had just been an excuse. He would easily have been able to take off a Sunday afternoon now and then to drive with his family to see Mom. After all, he had good friends who would milk the cows for him if he needed them to; he'd done it for them before. Farmers rely on each other, he'd told MaryAnne more than once. But it was easier to not watch MS take its toll on his mother. It was easier to stay away. Now, Mom needed him and he hadn't been there. David hated himself for his selfishness.
**********
Just as God planned it, as Marcie parked her car in St. Mary's lot, a blue car pulled up hastily right beside her. Obviously, someone was in as big of a hurry as she was. Something told her to watch the person get out of the car next to her.
"David?!" Marcie exclaimed as a familiar head popped up from the driver's side of the blue vehicle.
David turned to the sound of his name. "Marcie!" He found himself caught up in his sister's hug before he even closed his car door. Hugging Marcie back, David realized how long it had been since he'd seen his sister.
"We've been fools, Marce," David lamented.
"We've been worse than that, Davy," Marcie sighed. "Let's go see Mom. We've got some apologies to give."
Together, the twins found their way to their mother's room. Andrew was sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair; Monica sat in an equally- uncomfortable chair beside him. Tess, still on duty, was making sure Estelle ate supper.
"Tess, dear, I'm feeling much better. This hospital food might set me back," Estelle teased.
"Well, I'm not leaving 'til you've eaten every last bite," Tess threatened good-naturedly.
"If that means we can keep you in here, then I'm not hungry." Estelle winked at Monica and Andrew. Tess rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.
Estelle's eyes grew big as she noticed two figures standing in the doorway. "As I live and breathe."
"Mom?" Marcie rushed into the room but stopped mid-pounce at Estelle's bedside. Marcie wanted to hug her mother, but was afraid she'd hurt her mom.
"Marcie. David." Estelle's eyes filled with tears and she held out her arms to her babies. This time, Marcie didn't hesitate. She sat down on the edge of the bed and fell into her mother's arms, sobbing. Like a little boy, David hurried around to the other side of the bed and joined in the embrace.
"I think this is our cue to leave," Tess whispered to Monica and Andrew.
"But Estelle didn't eat-" Monica began, but Andrew covered her mouth with his hand and led her to the door.
"Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry! *We're* so sorry," Marcie gushed. She sat up, fumbled for a tissue.
"We've been terrible, Mom. Ungrateful. Neglectful. Selfish. We're sorry," David continued.
"We caught your doctor on the way up here," Marcie interrupted. "She said you collapsed. You had a bad MS attack and your legs went numb? How do you feel now?"
"The attack is over; my legs are fine," Estelle assured her daughter. "But my MS is increasing in intensity. This is just the beginning."
David and Marcie exchanged a guilty glance.
"Mom," David began, "We've avoided you. Not because we don't love you, but because."
"Because we were afraid," Marcie admitted, taking the words out of David's mouth. "We were afraid to lose you too, like we lost Dad. And."
"And it would hurt more if we let ourselves stay close to you, physically and emotionally," David followed. "It was stupid and childish and."
"And a rotten excuse. Can you ever forgive us?" Marcie finished.
"Oh, Marcie. David," Estelle took a hand of each of her children. "I know how much it hurts to see a loved one fail. We watched your father do it. I understand why you stayed away."
"That's just like you, Mom, to explain away our bad behavior," Marcie sighed. "What's worse is that it took a crisis to make us realize what we've done. We've ignored you and deprived our children of seeing their grandmother."
"Not to mention depriving ourselves of seeing our mother," added David. "We're sorry, Mom. You needed us and we weren't there." David ran a hand through his hair. His guilt ate away at him, as Marcie's did to her.
"You're here now," Estelle noted. "It's not too late. There's nothing in the world I want more than to have my family together again." She squeezed her David and Marcie's hands. "The past is the past. We start over now."
"I wish you wouldn't let us off the hook this easily," David whispered.
"What do you want me to do, Davy?" Estelle smiled in the way mothers do. "You're my babies. I love you."
"We love you too, Mom. Even if we haven't shown it lately," Marcie replied. David nodded enthusiastically.
"Starting now, we're going to be a part of each others' lives again," David vowed. "I know I can get my neighbors to milk the cows on Sunday nights. We need to get together *in person* *at least* once a week, Mom. And MaryAnne and I want you to come stay with us at the farm. Often. If we can't leave it, we'll bring you to us."
"And we want to see you a lot too, Mom," Marcie said, speaking for her own family. "Davy, you're carrying on the family farm, and I know it's so hard to get away. Farming is a 24-hour-a-day, seven-day-a-week job; I remember growing up there. Evan and I are fortunate enough to be able to change locations; we've been thinking of moving our practice to the city. Build a house with our office on the first floor. There's no better time than now, and no better city than this one."
Estelle was grinning from ear-to-ear. "We'll be a family again," she sighed happily. "All of us." She yawned.
"You're tired, Mom. You need to rest. Sleep. We're not going anywhere," Marcie promised.
"I might close my eyes for a little while," Estelle admitted. "I love you."
"We love you too, Mom," David said.
Please see the disclaimer in chapter 3. "TBAA" isn't ours!
Chapter 11 (by AJ)
By now, it was early afternoon. Tess said her farewells to her "angel babies," promising to return soon. Monica thought she might check in on Estelle. And Andrew decided he ought to take a quick shower before his interview. The hot water felt wonderful and helped relax away some of the tension and nervousness he had about the meeting with his hopefully-future employer. After drying off, Andrew pulled on a tee-shirt and boxer shorts, hung his towels up to dry, and wiped the mirror clean of fog. Looking in the glass, Andrew combed through his wet hair, then ran a hand over his face. He needed to shave. As an angel, Andrew had never had to worry about shaving. Now, he wasn't sure he knew what to do. Pulling out his toiletries kit - which Tess had carefully, knowingly, and amusingly packed - Andrew found a razor and a can of shaving cream.
"All right," he said to himself, "this can't be that hard. I put the shaving cream on my face." As Andrew filled the sink with a puddle of water, he read the directions on the can. He shook the container, popped the cap off, and pushed the button on the nozzle. To his delight, a pile of musky foam filled his hand. "Simple enough," Andrew mused, covering his whiskers with the foam. The next step included the razor.
"Where do I start?" Andrew asked himself. He picked up the razor and decided to begin just below his left sideburn. A few swipes of the blade later, Andrew had cleared a smooth path along his cheek. "I can do this. No problem!" he boasted aloud. Monica giggled from her place just outside the bathroom door. This, she had to see. Silently, Monica cracked the door open and peeked inside. Andrew noticed nothing. He had finished an entire cheek without a single cut! He thought he might take his chances on his neck now.
"Ouch! Ooh!" Andrew exclaimed as his first stroke with the razor against his neck slit the skin. Promptly, blood trickled out. For a second, Andrew was surprised and dazed by the blood streaming from his own human veins. Monica had no momentary paralysis; she jumped right into action.
"Oh, Andy!" She burst through the bathroom door and hurried to snag a tissue with which to stop Andrew's bleeding. Andrew was startled by Monica's unexpected entry, but instantly glad for her presence. She pressed the tissue to Andrew's cut, inducing a clot to form.
"So? No problem?" Monica teased as the blood stopped flowing out. Andrew blinked away his astonishment. He laughed.
"Do you want me to help you?" Monica offered.
"Since when did you become a master at shaving faces?" Andrew chuckled.
"I didn't see you do a very good job," Monica replied.
"Hey!" Andrew feigned being insulted, "I was doing a perfectly fine job until.until I got to my neck." He paused, the image of his own blood oozing out of his own skin still lingering in his mind's eye. Monica would never hurt him. "All right," Andrew relented. "You want to try?" He handed her his shaving razor.
"I'll be careful, I promise," Monica vowed, accepting the tool and dipping it in the basin of water. She climbed up on the countertop and knelt in front of Andrew, assessing his fine-featured face. True to her word, Monica smoothed Andrew's face without putting upon him even a single cut. She then took a washcloth, soaked it in warm water, and tenderly wiped away the remaining shaving foam.
"There. All done," Monica announced, caressing Andrew's cheek with the back of her hand. "And I did a good job, if I do say so myself."
Andrew ran his hand over his face and pretended to scrutinize his features in the mirror. Then he grinned broadly and leaned in to peck Monica on the cheek. "Well, Moni, if I don't get this construction job, you can work in a barbershop. On second thought, I think I'd be too jealous. I'd rather have you as my personal keeper."
"I get to keep you? I can live with that," Monica replied coyly.
**********
As if on cue ("as if"?) Tess pulled her red caddie up to the curb as Andrew stepped off the porch. He had been wondering how on Earth he was going to get to the Martin Brothers' headquarters, but he should have known that the Good Lord would take care of him. Tess honked the horn and called, "Get in, Angel Baby! You've got a job to apply for!"
Tess decided to make some small talk on the drive. "What do Monica and Estelle have planned for the afternoon?"
"They were making lunch when I left," Andrew replied. He was more nervous now than he had been since finding that ad.
"You mean to tell me you're going on an interview on an empty stomach?" Tess scolded.
"Oh, Tess, I don't think I could eat anything," Andrew moaned.
"Now listen here, Angel Boy," Tess admonished, "You don't have a thing to worry about on this interview. You're intelligent and articulate, and you have more life experience than everyone else they'll interview combined. You just be yourself; everything will be just fine."
Andrew took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He and Tess practiced what he might say during the interview for the rest of the ride; soon, Tess parked in front of a construction site where a makeshift sidewalk led to a trailer marked "Office."
"Site office," Andrew reasoned, "I suppose they like to interview people on the working grounds."
"That makes sense Angel Baby," Tess soothed, knowing that Andrew was only talking to calm his nerves. She paused. "Don't you think you ought to go in?"
"Yes. Yes, here I go," Andrew climbed out of the car and shut the door with resolve.
"Now you'll be just fine, Baby. I don't know how long your interview will take, but St. Mary's Hospital is six blocks south of here," Tess gestured in the southerly direction. "That's where I'm working. Fifth floor. Come there and find me when you're done."
"All right Tess. Thanks," Andrew replied, "The next time I see you, I'll be an employed man."
"Now that's the way to think. Break a leg in there, Angel Boy," Tess encouraged. She waited until Andrew entered the makeshift office before uttering a quick prayer and driving away.
**********
Taking a deep breath, Andrew knocked on the door to the office and, when a voice beckoned, opened the door and stepped inside.
"Hello. Can I help you?" the woman behind a mahogany desk asked as she rose from her seat.
"Hi. I'm Andrew.Andrew Jones. I read an ad in the paper that said you're looking for workers?" Andrew stepped up to the desk to take the woman's outstretched hand.
"We certainly are," the woman shook Andrew's hand, smiling warmly. "I'm Elizabeth Martin. My husband and his brother are the "Martin Brothers" you read about. Please, sit down. I'm in charge of personnel, so you'll do your interview with me. Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, but thank you." Andrew took the seat Elizabeth motioned him into. Andrew was a good judge of character, and, even after that short exchange, surmised that Elizabeth was a pleasant, easy-going woman.
"Just want to get this over with, huh?" Elizabeth teased knowingly. "Most people are nervous on interviews, but don't worry; I won't bite."
Andrew laughed and relaxed visibly. After all, he had been on interviews before, and he was good with people. Tess was right; he'd be just fine.
"Do you have a resume?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oh. No, I don't. I didn't know I needed one," Andrew blushed. Then he chuckled in his embarrassment, "I suppose that's common sense, but I didn't even think about it."
Elizabeth shrugged, "Well, it's always a good idea to bring a resume to a job interview, but you're not the first person to come without one. It's partially our fault; we don't explicitly say in our ad to "bring a resume." You know how legally-minded everyone is these days; if it's not in writing, it's not law." She smiled good-naturedly. "I'll just have you fill out this job application then." She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a folder from which she drew a thin packet of paper. Handing the paper - the job application - a clipboard and a pen to Andrew, she continued: "Why don't you take one of those chairs by the window; I know I'd be self- conscious if someone watched me fill something out."
"Thanks," Andrew replied with a sheepish grin. He took the materials to a chair near the office windows and filled the application out as best he could. He had so many more jobs than he could fit into the "previous experience" section, so he wrote in his most recent five. When he'd put down as much information as he could fit into the application, he reported, "I'm done here. Are you ready for me?"
"Of course. Come on back over and sit down again," Elizabeth replied with a smile at Andrew.
Andrew did as directed, handing his application to the woman across the desk from him. Elizabeth scrutinized it, nodding as her eyes moved across the words. "You've had some very interesting jobs," she noted when she was finished. "What makes you want to get into construction?"
Andrew was ready for this one, and he spoke from the heart. "I've spent time as a builder before - it wasn't one of my most recent jobs, so I didn't put it down in the application - but I loved it. The thought of constructing a home or a fire station or a hospital always excited me and drove me to work harder even when I was exhausted. I love to help people, and putting up buildings that people need is, I think, one of the most important jobs someone can have."
Elizabeth grinned widely, quite pleased. Something told her that Andrew was the man she'd been looking to add to her employee team. "I think that's the most enlightened answer I've ever heard. You've got yourself a job, Mr. Jones. Do you have time now to fill out the payroll paperwork? You can start working tomorrow."
"Thank you so much," Andrew gushed, reaching across the desk to shake Elizabeth's hand. She chuckled at his earnestness, and was sure then that she had made a good hire. They spent the next half-hour filling out employment papers. After a final handshake, Andrew promised to see Elizabeth the next morning at 7:30 sharp. As he left the office, Andrew offered a prayer of thanks to the Father and began his walk to the hospital to find Tess. On the way, Andrew passed a bus station and picked up a bus schedule. To his fortune, he found that a bus had a pick up stop just a few blocks from Estelle's house. He could get off right there at the station, not far at all from the work site. Another prayer of gratitude got Andrew all the way to St. Mary's.
**********
Monica was washing the dishes. She and Estelle had just made cookies, and Estelle was taking a new batch out of the oven.
"Mmmm, Estelle! They smell wonderful," Monica complimented. Estelle had done most of the preparation work; a good thing, because Monica could ruin even cookies. These were for Christmas, and Monica had delighted in decorating them. When this batch was cool enough, she would get to frost and sprinkle them too. Though it was still summertime, Estelle liked to get a head-start on her Christmas baking. The kids *always* came for the holidays.
"They look wonderful too. You've done a terrific job with the decorations," Estelle replied. She wished she sounded cheerier, but she had been fighting a backache all day. She set the full baking sheet on the counter and began to lift the warm cookies off it. One by one, she placed the cookies on a piece of waxed paper where they would cool until Monica could decorate them.
As Estelle set the last cookie on the paper, Monica set the last dish in the drying rack. There would be a few more dishes to do when the pair was done baking, but the majority of the clean-up was finished.
"I think I'm going to sit down for a minute, Monica," Estelle announced, pulling a chair from the kitchen table and resting in it.
"Are you all right?" Monica was instantly concerned. She sat in the chair next to Estelle.
"Just a backache, dear." Estelle tried to smile. Monica regarded her with unease.
"Maybe you ought to rest?" Monica suggested.
"What does it look like I'm doing right now?" Estelle teased, though her heart wasn't in it.
"I meant, maybe you ought to-" Monica was cut off by Estelle's gasp. "Monica! Oh my gosh! I can't." Estelle's face paled as she realized that her legs had gone numb.
"Estelle? What is it? What's wrong?" Monica was out of her seat and kneeling at Estelle's side instantaneously.
"I can't feel my legs! Monica!" Estelle was in a state of near-panic. Monica had been researching MS, and she knew that it affected the nerves. Sometimes, attacks would bring on numbness. She didn't know, however, how to remedy the problem. She felt the need to act quickly.
"Take a deep breath, Estelle," Monica soothed, fighting her own rising fears. She took Estelle's trembling hand. "I'm going to call 911."
Monica rode with Estelle in the ambulance to St. Mary's hospital, holding Estelle's hand the entire way and talking to her, trying to keep the older woman calm. At the hospital, Estelle was whisked up to neurology and her doctors were paged. Despite Estelle's pleas, Monica had to remain in the waiting room because she "wasn't family." Collapsing on the couch in the otherwise-deserted neurology waiting room, Monica cried. She couldn't imagine losing the feeling in her legs. How frightened Estelle must be!
"It's all right Baby," a bourbon voice whispered in Monica's ear.
"Tess!" Monica looked up to find Tess sitting next to her. She couldn't help it; Monica threw her arms around her mentor.
"I know you're worried, but you did the right thing by bringing Estelle here. She's in good hands," Tess soothed. "But dry those tears, Angel Girl. You've got work to do."
"I have?" Monica sniffled, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Tess handed her.
"Don't you think you ought to make a few phone calls?" prompted Tess.
"David and Marcie! Oh, Tess, they have to come now!" Monica exclaimed.
"Well, they don't *have* to, Baby, but I have a strong feeling that they will," Tess replied.
"Who will do what?" a voice called from the doorway.
"Andrew!" Monica found herself relieved now that both of her best friends were there.
"Monica? What are you doing here?" Andrew was surprised. "Oh no! What happened?" He sat down on the couch beside Monica.
"Estelle is here, Andrew. She said she couldn't feel her legs." Tears formed in Monica's eyes again. Andrew took her hand.
"MS affects the nerves; sometimes people with MS lose feeling in parts of their bodies," Tess offered, though Andrew hadn't asked. He had learned a few things about MS since living with Estelle too.
"Will she be all right?" Andrew inquired.
"Her doctors are with her now. We don't know anything yet," Tess answered.
"Has anyone called Marcie and David?" Andrew squeezed Monica's hand. She was biting her lower lip.
"You read my mind, Angel Boy." Tess smiled maternally.
"C'mon, Moni. You feel up to making a phone call?" Andrew whispered. Monica nodded.
**********
Marcie had just finished giving a St. Bernard puppy his check-up when the call came from Monica. Her heart hit the floor. In a blur, she asked her husband, Evan, to take the rest of her appointments that day; she had to hurry to her mother. Evan readily agreed, promising also to pick the girls up from daycare. He would be waiting by the phone for her to call the second she had any news. He kissed her, told her he loved her, and let her fly out the door of their veterinary office. Marcie was in the car and on the road before she allowed herself to think about Mom.
David was in his machine shed when the phone rang. He had finally repaired the feed bunk, and hoped beyond hope that the auger wouldn't jam again. He was actually in a pretty good mood until Andrew told him that his mother was in the hospital. David's stomach turned to ice, and rushed out to the field where his wife, MaryAnne, was baling hay. She and David hurried home where David showered in record time. MaryAnne would be alone for milking and chores that night, but Alexander always tried to be a big help. He would be home from school soon. MaryAnne didn't mind working alone; she worried about Estelle. With a kiss and a promise to phone as soon as he had any news, David hopped in the car and was on the road before he really let Mom sink into his thoughts.
Marcie couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks as she maneuvered the highways. She called her mother every week, mailed her pictures the girls drew, but had rarely gone to spend time with her since her dad had died. The house just feels so empty without Dad, and it's too hard to watch Mom get older, especially since MS is taking its toll on Mom, Marcie had reasoned. Now, she found that she was actually jealous of Mom's new tenants. Monica and Andrew were there for Mom, and Marcie hadn't been. She wanted to hate Andrew and Monica, but couldn't. It was her own fault for not visiting, for not being there. Marcie hated herself for her selfishness.
David wanted to cry. He hadn't gone to see his mother much since Dad died. Oh, sure, he phoned her every week, sent her copies of Alexander's schoolwork, but he didn't talk to his Mom in person very often. He reasoned that the farm kept him too busy to visit. He loved his job, and the farm had been handed down to him from his parents in the first place. Now, though, in the moment of crisis, David knew that the farm had just been an excuse. He would easily have been able to take off a Sunday afternoon now and then to drive with his family to see Mom. After all, he had good friends who would milk the cows for him if he needed them to; he'd done it for them before. Farmers rely on each other, he'd told MaryAnne more than once. But it was easier to not watch MS take its toll on his mother. It was easier to stay away. Now, Mom needed him and he hadn't been there. David hated himself for his selfishness.
**********
Just as God planned it, as Marcie parked her car in St. Mary's lot, a blue car pulled up hastily right beside her. Obviously, someone was in as big of a hurry as she was. Something told her to watch the person get out of the car next to her.
"David?!" Marcie exclaimed as a familiar head popped up from the driver's side of the blue vehicle.
David turned to the sound of his name. "Marcie!" He found himself caught up in his sister's hug before he even closed his car door. Hugging Marcie back, David realized how long it had been since he'd seen his sister.
"We've been fools, Marce," David lamented.
"We've been worse than that, Davy," Marcie sighed. "Let's go see Mom. We've got some apologies to give."
Together, the twins found their way to their mother's room. Andrew was sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair; Monica sat in an equally- uncomfortable chair beside him. Tess, still on duty, was making sure Estelle ate supper.
"Tess, dear, I'm feeling much better. This hospital food might set me back," Estelle teased.
"Well, I'm not leaving 'til you've eaten every last bite," Tess threatened good-naturedly.
"If that means we can keep you in here, then I'm not hungry." Estelle winked at Monica and Andrew. Tess rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.
Estelle's eyes grew big as she noticed two figures standing in the doorway. "As I live and breathe."
"Mom?" Marcie rushed into the room but stopped mid-pounce at Estelle's bedside. Marcie wanted to hug her mother, but was afraid she'd hurt her mom.
"Marcie. David." Estelle's eyes filled with tears and she held out her arms to her babies. This time, Marcie didn't hesitate. She sat down on the edge of the bed and fell into her mother's arms, sobbing. Like a little boy, David hurried around to the other side of the bed and joined in the embrace.
"I think this is our cue to leave," Tess whispered to Monica and Andrew.
"But Estelle didn't eat-" Monica began, but Andrew covered her mouth with his hand and led her to the door.
"Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry! *We're* so sorry," Marcie gushed. She sat up, fumbled for a tissue.
"We've been terrible, Mom. Ungrateful. Neglectful. Selfish. We're sorry," David continued.
"We caught your doctor on the way up here," Marcie interrupted. "She said you collapsed. You had a bad MS attack and your legs went numb? How do you feel now?"
"The attack is over; my legs are fine," Estelle assured her daughter. "But my MS is increasing in intensity. This is just the beginning."
David and Marcie exchanged a guilty glance.
"Mom," David began, "We've avoided you. Not because we don't love you, but because."
"Because we were afraid," Marcie admitted, taking the words out of David's mouth. "We were afraid to lose you too, like we lost Dad. And."
"And it would hurt more if we let ourselves stay close to you, physically and emotionally," David followed. "It was stupid and childish and."
"And a rotten excuse. Can you ever forgive us?" Marcie finished.
"Oh, Marcie. David," Estelle took a hand of each of her children. "I know how much it hurts to see a loved one fail. We watched your father do it. I understand why you stayed away."
"That's just like you, Mom, to explain away our bad behavior," Marcie sighed. "What's worse is that it took a crisis to make us realize what we've done. We've ignored you and deprived our children of seeing their grandmother."
"Not to mention depriving ourselves of seeing our mother," added David. "We're sorry, Mom. You needed us and we weren't there." David ran a hand through his hair. His guilt ate away at him, as Marcie's did to her.
"You're here now," Estelle noted. "It's not too late. There's nothing in the world I want more than to have my family together again." She squeezed her David and Marcie's hands. "The past is the past. We start over now."
"I wish you wouldn't let us off the hook this easily," David whispered.
"What do you want me to do, Davy?" Estelle smiled in the way mothers do. "You're my babies. I love you."
"We love you too, Mom. Even if we haven't shown it lately," Marcie replied. David nodded enthusiastically.
"Starting now, we're going to be a part of each others' lives again," David vowed. "I know I can get my neighbors to milk the cows on Sunday nights. We need to get together *in person* *at least* once a week, Mom. And MaryAnne and I want you to come stay with us at the farm. Often. If we can't leave it, we'll bring you to us."
"And we want to see you a lot too, Mom," Marcie said, speaking for her own family. "Davy, you're carrying on the family farm, and I know it's so hard to get away. Farming is a 24-hour-a-day, seven-day-a-week job; I remember growing up there. Evan and I are fortunate enough to be able to change locations; we've been thinking of moving our practice to the city. Build a house with our office on the first floor. There's no better time than now, and no better city than this one."
Estelle was grinning from ear-to-ear. "We'll be a family again," she sighed happily. "All of us." She yawned.
"You're tired, Mom. You need to rest. Sleep. We're not going anywhere," Marcie promised.
"I might close my eyes for a little while," Estelle admitted. "I love you."
"We love you too, Mom," David said.