Author's Note: Thank you, everyone, for continuing to read!
Trigger Warning: Suicidal ideation.
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June 20, 1977
Mike stepped into the room where Beth lay sleeping. In a way he was glad she was asleep because he wasn't quite ready to face her. On the one hand, he was happy he had his memory back, but on the other hand, he was staggered by reality. In one fell swoop he had lost his house, his job (as he knew it, anyway), his mother, and basically his way of life. Not to mention the effects of the quake on his friends' lives. That was a lot for a guy to process. He quietly took a seat next to Beth's bed and just watched her sleep. He would never tell her, but he always loved to watch his wife sleep. She was beautiful no matter what, but never more than when she was relaxed and sleeping.
Right now, though, she was sleeping fitfully. Her hands clenched themselves in fists and she muttered in French. And then suddenly she woke up gasping. "Non!"
Mike frowned. French was always a bad sign. He wasn't surprised when she woke up. He was ready and he reached for her. "It's okay, Bethy! I'm here!" He stroked her hair gently.
It took a moment for Beth's eyes to focus. She grasped Mike's hand and held it tight. "You know me? You really know me?"
He smiled. "I do, love. I'm okay now. I have my memories back."
Beth's eyes flooded with tears. "You know about Mom?"
He nodded, his throat tightening, tears pricking his eyes. For a moment he couldn't speak, so he didn't try. He simply hugged Beth, breathing in her familiar scent and letting her comfort wash over him.
"I was afraid I'd lost you too," Beth said, nestling close to him. She rested an ear close to his chest. "I had nightmares about it. And there's the house and everything else. It's beyond belief."
Mike stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. "I know, honey. We'll figure everything out. The boys are going to be okay. Pops is with us. It could have been a lot worse." Tears fell of their own accord. His words were brave, but his heart was breaking.
"I know. Pops told me about Mom. Dr. Early says he has the flu now." She winced. "I'm so sorry I gave it to him. He wore himself out, trying to take care of us all while you were sick." Her hand went to the sling on his arm. "Oh, honey. How bad is it?"
Mike sighed, then straightened up, wiping his eyes. "Banged up my shoulder a bit when I was stuck in the elevator. Tore some ligaments that may need surgery, but it could've been worse."
A wry smile twisted her lips. "We're a real pair, aren't we? I need surgery too, to set my right leg."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Well then, darlin', you can take care of me, and I'll take care of you! And together we'll take care of the boys. How's that grab you?"
She nodded. "I haven't seen the boys yet. Dr. Brackett said maybe today I could sit up in a wheelchair and go to their room."
"They'll love to see you. They miss you."
Beth hadn't let go of Mike's hand yet. She clung to it as if it were the secret to staying afloat instead of drowning.
Mike didn't mind her clinging to him. He had missed this closeness. "Beth, I'm not sure what will happen with work. Station 51 collapsed in the quake, and they aren't replacing her. Cap says they're putting in a whole new station. No more 51's."
"I'm sorry, Mike. I know how much 51's means to you. And Big Red. But maybe…" Her voice trailed off.
Mike looked crestfallen at the mention of his baby, which had been wrecked. But he was interested in what Beth was thinking. "What, babe?"
"After the twins were born, you talked about studying arson investigation. Maybe it's a good time to do that. The department might even subsidize it."
He tilted his head to one side, thinking. "That's not a bad idea. Let me think about it. Maybe it is time for a change." He hugged her closer. How I love you, Bethy!
"Mike, honey?"
"Hmmm?"
"Would you find out when I can go see the boys? We could go up together, if they'll let me get in a chair." She rubbed her thumb along his ear and neck. "I need to see them."
He pulled his thoughts away from places they definitely didn't need to be headed and sighed. "Okay. I'll go track down a nurse and a wheelchair."
"Thanks. But first…" She moved her hand to the back of his head and pulled him close. "It's been way too long since —" She pressed her lips against his in a deep and prolonged kiss.
Mike eagerly returned the kiss, grateful she was on the same wavelength he was, but he wisely ended the gesture before either of them got too carried away. It was hard, but he knew they would have plenty of time later. They were both slightly breathless, and he grinned wickedly, waggling his eyebrows. "NOW I'll get the nurse… but I may need a doctor myself after that kiss!" He winked at her and laughed as she blushed. He dodged her swat as he headed out the door.
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Beth was in her chair. A nurse was on hand to push her since Mike couldn't with his arm in the sling. But Mike was in a panic. He paced the corridor, his hands trembling. To get Beth to the boys' room, they had to take an elevator. Beth said it was OK for him to take the stairs, but he couldn't risk her being stuck in the elevator without him. Could he? What kind of husband would do that? The very thought of stepping into an elevator now set his spine crawling and made his stomach turn flips.
"Mike, honey, you're pale as a ghost." Beth squeezed his hand. "You can walk up. Really, it's OK."
Mike stared at Beth, uncertain what to do. What if there were an aftershock while Beth was in the elevator? No. He couldn't risk it. He looked at the nurse. "You can wheel her to the stairs, and then I'll carry her up. I don't care if it hurts my shoulder. I can do it." The stubborn set to his jaw told everyone he had made up his mind.
"No, Mr. Stoker! Dr. Early would have my head!" Tina Mossley protested.
"If I have to, I will carry her from here, Nurse Mossley. I refuse to risk her getting stuck on an elevator. Is that clear?" Mike's voice was the same one he used on the job when he needed to. Authoritative and brooking no nonsense.
"Michael, no." Beth could be just as stubborn as her husband. She frowned, her eyebrows arching in frustration.
"Beth, you are not going on that elevator. I can carry you up. That's the way it is." Mike was feeling more desperate than ever. The elevator had become a monster to him.
Where Dixie appeared from, no one could say. But suddenly she was there. "Michael Theodore Stoker, what are you thinking?" she snapped. "We haven't had an aftershock for days. The danger of another one is very low by this point."
Mike turned on Dixie. "But that elevator could get stuck and even you can't guarantee it won't. No matter what you say." He glowered at her, his chin set.
"I can't guarantee the world won't end in the next half an hour." Dixie squeezed Mike's arm. "But that isn't going to stop me from living. You need to face your fear, not run from it."
Her comment had the opposite effect she'd likely been hoping for. Mike simply stalked off. He tossed back over his shoulder, "Take her to see the boys." And then he disappeared around the corner.
Unfortunately, Dr. Early was coming down the corridor. He met Mike's eyes and frowned. Usually mild-mannered, when Joe Early was angry, everyone knew it. "Mike, you need to get back to your room. Now."
Mike's eyes blazed. He couldn't really say what had triggered him, but something was prodding him, and he needed to be alone right now. "No, Doc. Leave me alone." And he strode past the startled doctor, intent on finding somewhere he could figure out what was happening inside him.
Fortunately, Mike's anger dissipated as he walked the corridors, and he realized just what he had done and how unreasonable he had been. But he still felt his fears were legitimate. Elevators were dangerous. At least for him. Slowly, he made his way back where he'd left Beth and Dixie. Dixie was still standing in the corridor with Beth. Mike knew he was in trouble with them, and he couldn't ignore them. So, he just walked up and faced them, staring at them. He wasn't sure what to say, so he waited for one of them to speak first.
"Have you come to your senses, Mike?" Dixie asked. The sharp edge to her voice cut deep.
"I guess so. But I am not getting on an elevator right now."
"Honey, that's ok with me. But I am. I want to see the boys." Beth reached to clasp his fingers. Her soft touch soothed him.
"I'm sorry I yelled at all of you." Mike ducked his head. "I know I have to figure this out."
"Maybe a few sessions with Dr. Robinson would be a good idea," Dr. Early said from behind him. "He can help you work through your feelings."
Mike sighed. A session with the fire department shrink was not high on his list of fun things to do. "Yeah, maybe. But right now, we've gotta see the boys. That's the most important thing." He leaned over and kissed Beth lightly.
"When you're done, you'll go back to your own room, right Mike?" Dr. Early said, one eyebrow quirking upward.
Mike nodded. "Yessir."
"Good." Early nodded to Dixie. "I'm leaving you in charge here, Dix. I've got rounds to finish." And then he strode away down the hall.
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Beth watched as Mike headed for the stairwell. In a minute, the elevator doors opened, and Dixie wheeled her in. She wished Mike had come with them, but she understood his anxiety and wouldn't push him. At least, not yet. Upstairs, they met him at the door to the boys' room.
"See, honey?" Beth wrapped her fingers around his hand and pulled it to her lips to kiss it. "We got up here just fine in the elevator. No problems at all."
"Good." He motioned for them to hang back, then swung open the door and stepped inside. Beth smiled as she listened to him greet the twins. "Surprise!"
"Dad!" That was Ian's voice. Her sons sounded a lot alike, but Beth could always tell them apart. Ian was a little quieter than Jake, more serious, less boyish. "Pops told us you were sick! And now he's sick too."
Mike didn't answer right away. Beth imagined he was hugging his sons in spite of his injury. "Hey," he finally said, "Pops will be better soon, boys. And guess who else has come to see you?
"Who?" That was Jake. His voice was lively, excited, full of the joy of life in spite of everything they'd been through. "Is it Mom? Dr. Brackett said she might come today!"
That was their cue. Dixie pushed Beth's chair into the room. Mike was smiling at them. Even solemn Ian was grinning.
"Mom!" the boys shouted. Beth blinked back tears and stretched her arms wide. Dixie wheeled her close so that she could hug them both.
Jake got up and wrapped his good arm around his mother. "Mama, I missed you."
"Oh, I missed you too." She reached to wrap Ian in her arms. Their hugs were a wonderful balm for her sorrows. "And you too, Buddy."
Ian kissed her. "Gramma said to tell you she loves you."
She brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Oh, Honey. Did you dream about her?"
He shrugged, suddenly quiet. "I don't think it was a dream," he said softly.
Beth eyed Mike as Ian described what he had seen. When he mentioned Harriet DeSoto, a chill went up her spine. "Roy's mom? Really?"
Mike nodded, but he didn't break into Ian's narrative.
"But she was happy, Mom. And so was Gramma. They said to tell you they're happy." His lower lip stuck out and a tear crept down his cheek. "I wanted to stay with them. But Aslan wouldn't let me."
Tears burned in Beth's eyes. Thank you, God. Thank you for sending him back to us. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw tears dripping down Mike's cheeks. We couldn't have borne it if we'd lost Ian too!
"He said I still have work to do here," Ian explained. "And… and I think I understand now. I'm gonna be a priest when I grow up, and I'm gonna help people."
Beth kissed her son on the head. "Ian, sweetheart, I know it was hard to leave that beautiful place, but I'm so glad you did. We all would've been lost without you."
Mike put his good arm around Ian. "I love you son. I love both of you so much. And I know I don't say it very often."
"You say it plenty," Ian replied. "Just not always in words." He smiled at his dad. "I'm sorry I fought with you about the Atari. And… I'm sorry I didn't clean my room like you said, Mom."
Mike smiled. "Hey, it's okay." His rueful expression told Beth he still felt bad about what had happened downstairs. "Even dads do things they're sorry for sometimes. Right, Mom?"
Beth smiled through her tears. "Right. And so do moms." She searched Ian's eyes and saw a deep need there. She knew he'd cleaned by pushing everything under his bed — she'd done the same thing plenty when she was his age, and she'd never apologized for it. Now he needed her to accept his apology. "Ian, honey, you're forgiven. I love you forever, no matter what."
Ian sighed and leaned back against his pillows. "Thanks. I'm real tired. I want to sleep. Dad, did you talk to Uncle Roy about what I saw yet?"
"I haven't seen him yet. Maybe you should tell him yourself? He might appreciate a first-hand description."
Ian blinked. "Yeah. Nurse Dixie, can I do that after I sleep?"
"Let me check with your doctor." Dixie gave him a soft smile. Her voice was quiet. Beth imagined they all felt quiet and thoughtful after hearing Ian's story. "Tomorrow might be best." She turned to Mike. "All right, mister. Time for you to get back to your room. And this time, stay there. Clara and Didi don't need any more aggravation from you."
Mike grinned sheepishly. "Yes, Nurse Needles. I'm going!"
Dixie whacked him on his good shoulder. "Go on. Kiss your wife and boys and get out of here and stop calling me that!"
Both boys were giggling. "Nurse Needles," Jake repeated. "I like that!"
Ian nodded gleefully. "Me too!" It did Beth's heart good to see the boy's seriousness drop away for a minute.
Mike shrugged and grinned at Dixie. "Sorry. Looks like I started something."
Dixie growled and pointed at the door. "Get. Out."
Beth bit back a smile and darted her eyes towards the door. Mike took the cue. If her husband knew anything, it was when to retreat.
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Chet was working on another drawing when Dr. Brackett came into his room.
The doctor watched him work for a few minutes, nodding appreciatively from time to time. "You've got real talent, Chet. Somehow I didn't peg you for the artistic type."
Chet shrugged. "Buried it for a long time. Kinda had it bullied outta me as a kid."
"Well, whatever brought it back, it's good timing. You're looking a lot better." He moved the swivel table. "You can work on that more in a minute. Right now, I need to examine you."
Chet put down the charcoal pencil and leaned back, ready for more poking and prodding. Truth was, since Kitty had come into his life, he was feeling better.
"Your last blood test shows that your cardiac contusion is getting better. You're not quite out of the woods yet, but you're moving in the right direction." Brackett continued his exam, listening to Chet's heart and writing in his chart. "So, I hear you and Nurse McIntire are becoming an item."
Chet pulled out the drawing he'd made of Kitty and showed it to the doctor. He smiled. "You could say that."
"You know we discourage our nurses from entering into relationships with their patients, Chet."
Chet frowned. "She's the best medicine I've had around here. But if her being my nurse means I can't spend other time with her, then take her off my case, Doc."
Brackett's cheek twitched. "I already have. She's no longer your nurse. And I'm prescribing plenty of time with her. That young lady has done you a world of good."
"I know. That's why I'm gonna marry her."
"Well, I hope I get an invitation to the wedding." Brackett chuckled. "After all, I'm the one who assigned her to you in the beginning, so I'm responsible for the two of you meeting."
Chet lowered his voice suddenly, his glance sliding to the door to make sure no one was coming in. He could make off-color jokes with the best of them, but right now he had a serious concern to address, and he wanted it to be just between him and his doctor. "Doc, I have a question. Will I be able to be a real husband to her? You know what I mean."
Brackett pulled up a chair and sat down. "Chet, you have nothing to worry about. As you know, firefighting isn't going to be an option for you anymore. But as for the other…" He raised an eyebrow. "You'll be just fine."
Chet sighed in relief. "Okay then."
Brackett raised a finger. "But not until you've recovered. Got that? You wait until you're cleared."
Chet looked amused. "Well, yeah. I mean, heck, I haven't even asked her out on an official date yet, Doc!" Then he shrugged. "And… well… I get the idea she's the sort who wants to wait till marriage for anything like that."
Brackett's eyes twinkled. "And you'd be wise to respect that. In any case, I think you'll be our guest for another week. After that, you'll be recuperating at home for a while. Did your building survive the quake?"
"Yeah, my apartment is fine, but my family wants me to move in with them for a while at first, just till I get back on my feet."
"That's a good idea." Brackett nodded. "Now, get back to that drawing. Maybe I'll buy it from you when you're done."
"As long as you don't let Dixie know I sold it to you."
The doctor coughed. "Oh, I don't think Nurse Needles would object to her picture hanging on my wall. You've captured an amazing likeness there."
Chet tipped his head quizzically and was soon let in on Mike's joke. Oh, was Stoker gonna be a dead man!
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It was early evening. Julia Frazier stared at the telephone. Four days had passed, and she'd heard nothing from Jim. Nothing from JoAnne. The house was quiet. Too quiet. She missed the noise of the children scurrying about the place. Would she ever hear it again? She had spent the day in her nightgown and bathrobe. Getting dressed was too much trouble.
Roy wasn't so bad. She knew that. She'd always known that. But he was Harriet's son, and Julia couldn't stand Harriet. They'd been best friends once, until Harriet had won the heart of the man Julia loved.
Julia had settled for Jim Frazier, though she'd never loved him. Not the way he loved her. He'd been a good husband over the years, a good father to their girls. She had to admit that. Now that he was gone, she could confess to feeling a certain affection for him. Was it love? She wasn't sure. Sometimes she thought she wasn't capable of love. Such feelings had died with R.C.'s rejection.
She picked up the phone and dialed JoAnne's number. Out of order. No way to reach them. Julia's stomach growled. She hung up and went to the refrigerator. She stared at the contents. Nothing inside appealed to her. Instead of real food, she grabbed a can of Tab. Then she put it back in the fridge and got one of Jim's Coca Colas. What was the point in avoiding calories now? She grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry and carried them to the sofa.
She set the TV on a mind-numbing soap opera. Before the show was halfway through, she dozed off. When the phone rang, it startled her awake. She jumped. The bag of chips went flying.
"Mom?" It was Eileen, her younger daughter. The good daughter who had married an acceptable man, meaning a man with no connection to Harriet.
A man like me. Uptight, cold, negative. Julia pushed the unwelcome thought away. She wasn't that bad, was she? "Eileen, dear."
"Mom, I just talked with Daddy. Are you OK?" Eileen's warm concern wrapped around Julia's heart. This daughter, at least, still loved her.
Julia blinked back tears. She wasn't OK. She knew that. But she couldn't reveal any weakness. Her voice couldn't waver, or Eileen would hear it and know. She would guess about the bottle of sleeping pills Julia kept in the pocket of her bathrobe. Every time those pills rattled, they called out for her to swallow every last one. "I'm all right. A little lonely, I guess."
"Mom, I'm sorry. Please help me understand. What do you have against Roy?" Eileen's tone hardened. She had always defended JoAnne's affection for the man. "He's one of the good guys. I wish Drake were more like him. And now…" Her voice trailed off.
"What now?" Julia snapped. Irritation was building inside her, eating a hole in her gut. Why did everyone have to question her decisions? Why couldn't they just understand?
"He was badly injured, Mom. And his mother died in the quake and his house —"
"Harriet died?" Julia's heart skipped a beat. Her stomach clenched. Years of guilt and regret over that lost friendship suddenly broke out of the dark place she'd kept it locked away all these years. She couldn't help the waver in her voice this time.
"Yes." Eileen's voice wobbled. "Roy and Jo are devastated."
Julia fingered the bottle of sleeping pills. If she took them now, JoAnne wouldn't miss her. Not the way she missed Harriet. All the affection she should have had for her own mother, she'd transferred to Roy's. And it's my own fault. Julia tried pushing that thought away, but it just kept running through her mind again and again.
"Mom, please explain it to me. Dad said you and Harriet used to be friends. I want to understand." Eileen's tone had softened again. She was pleading. "I need to understand."
Suddenly afraid that she risked losing this daughter too, Julia decided to tell her everything. "Harriet and I were best friends," she confessed. "We met in high school and went to nursing school together. When World War 2 started, we signed up to serve in a medical unit." She shuddered. The memories were hard. "A soldier came through with minor injuries. Royal Christopher Asbury. Harriet and I both fell in love with him. He chose Harriet over me. It destroyed our friendship. When word came that he'd been killed in battle, I considered forgiving her." Julia let out a deep, shuddering sigh. "But within days, his best friend proposed to her. R.C.'s last thoughts had been of Harriet. He'd made Daniel DeSoto promise to take care of her. She was pregnant at the time. Maybe she could have hidden it a while longer, but I was so angry, I reported her. The Army discharged her. She went home with Daniel, who'd lost an arm. I was left with nothing."
"Mother, that's not true and you know it." The edge in Eileen's voice scared Julia. You met Daddy there. You came home and married him. You had us and the farm and a good life."
"And now I'm left with nothing again." Suddenly, Julia couldn't stop the tears. She'd always prided herself on her ability to keep her emotions hidden. But she'd never felt so alone.
"Mom, are you crying?" Again, the warm concern. This time it rankled.
Julia stuck her hand in the bathrobe pocket and wrapped it around the bottle of pills. "Goodbye, Eileen. I love you." She hung up the phone. Within seconds, it was ringing again. Julia ignored it.
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"Mom! You gotta come see!" JoAnne had been resting while Emily watched the kids. She was exhausted. But Chris sounded so excited, she got off the guest-room bed and hurried down the stairs. Dad was sitting in Cap's recliner, but he had set his newspaper aside and was leaning forward cheering for D.J. The little guy, meanwhile, was wobbling backward and forward on all fours. Megan held a colorful toy just out of his reach — a dog on wheels with a short pull-string. Mama DeSoto had bought it for him that last day. Jo shuddered. If only Mama were here to see this. Jo sucked in a deep breath. Surely Mama could see. Surely she was looking down on her youngest grandchild right now and cheering just as happily as Dad was. I just wish Mom would love D.J. like Mama did.
Suddenly it happened. D.J. put one hand in front of the other and moved his legs at the same time. "He's crawling!" Jo gasped. Megan backed up, wiggling the toy in front of him. The dog's ears and tail jiggled. D.J. crawled a whole foot before sitting up and lunging forward to grab at the toy's pull string. He grinned as he pulled the dog into a hug. "Goggie!"
Jo blinked back tears. "I wish Roy could have seen that," she said softly. "At least he'll love hearing about it." She checked her wristwatch. "Em, are you OK with the kids staying here? I told Roy I'd have dinner with him."
"No problem. It's nice having the noise of kids in the house again. It's too quiet with our brood away at camp."
"Thanks." JoAnne walked across the room and wrapped Emily Stanley in a hug. "You've been wonderful, opening up your home and everything. We really appreciate it."
"You're family, Jo. You always will be." Emily patted her shoulder. "Go on. Roy will be glad to hear about D.J.'s latest triumph. We'll see you later."
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Julia wandered through the house. There was a shoebox in her bedroom. Upstairs, in the closet, sitting on a top shelf out of sight. She needed it now. She couldn't carry out her plan until she'd looked through it. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach it. Jim wasn't here to get it down for her.
She lifted the lid. Inside was a stack of envelopes. Letters from Harriet. She'd never opened one of them, but still they kept coming. How her former friend had kept track of her addresses even before JoAnne and Roy met in grade school, Julia couldn't know. But she had. And she'd written faithfully. A new letter every month, not to mention Christmas cards and birthday cards.
Julia found the earliest letter. This one had reached her when she was still in Sicily. She broke the seal on the envelope. She expected anger. Indignation. She deserved no less. What she found instead made her stomach twist and turn.
Dear Julia,
I miss you. I hope you're doing all right. I know you turned me in because you were angry, but it was for the best. Danny says life is often that way. Things may look bad, but they turn out all right when we pray and trust God with them. Sometimes I have nightmares about the things I saw in the war. Danny does too. We got a dog and he's a big help. You are always in my prayers. I hope you get home safely, and I look forward to the day we can be friends again.
Love, Harriet.
Julia stuffed the letter back in the envelope. Danny DeSoto sounded a lot like Pastor Blanke in the little Lutheran church the Fraziers sometimes attended in Leoti. Julia moaned. She couldn't show her face there now. Not after her bitterness had driven away her husband and her daughter.
For the next two hours, she opened one letter after another, always expecting angry words to come pouring out of Harriet's pen. But they never did. Harriet talked about Roy's birth and watching him grow up. She talked about the day Roy told her he loved JoAnne and then the discovery that JoAnne was Julia's daughter. She wrote about losing her husband when Roy was in high school and how her son abandoned his faith because he was so angry about the loss. He doesn't know Danny wasn't his birth father. I've never spoken to anyone about R.C. I don't know how to tell him. And Danny loved him as much as if Roy were his own. I put Danny's name on the birth certificate. Still, someday Roy should know. R.C. would have loved him so much. Whenever Roy smiles, I see his father's eyes dancing. They are so alike.
Harriet's later letters talked a lot about JoAnne. That was after Jo left home and moved in with Roy's mother, right after news came that Roy was missing in action and presumed dead. I've told her that the bond between mother and daughter is lifelong, that she needs to try to work things out with you. She's not ready yet, but she's praying for you. She goes to church with me every Sunday. Your daughter loves you, Julia. She'll remember it before long. And she did. After Roy had escaped and recovered from his ordeal in a POW camp, JoAnne pleaded with her mother to attend the wedding. Julia refused to go, but Jim went and gave his little girl away. Jo brought her children to visit occasionally and spent time with her mother, even though Julia tried relentlessly to convince her to leave Roy.
Every letter held open the hope of reconciliation and the promise of forgiveness. Every letter was signed, "Love, Harriet." Some of the letters talked about God. When Roy was still missing in action, she wrote, Pastor Seals has taught me so much about God's heart. I miss my son. I want him back. But whether he is alive or dead, I can trust God with him. Roy may have abandoned his faith, but that doesn't mean God has abandoned him. God loves Roy, and one day Roy will remember it. And Julia, God loves you. He wants to take away your bitterness and replace it with joy. He wants to restore the relationship between you and JoAnne. And I believe he wants to restore our friendship, that someday he will. Someday, when you are ready.
Tears streamed down Julia's cheeks. "I'm ready now, God. But Harriet's gone. It's too late." Her hand went into the pocket of her bathrobe again. The pill bottle was still there. She wrapped her fingers around it. Release was there. An end. Freedom. But at what cost? She would never be able to tell JoAnne and Jim and Roy that she was sorry. She would never see her grandchildren again. She was even starting to think she might warm up to D.J. if she had the chance. And Harriet had written about joy. Julia wanted to know what that felt like.
She placed the letters back in the box, closed the lid, and left it on the bedside table. Then she pulled out the bottle of pills and stared at them for a long moment. She still heard them calling her. You don't deserve forgiveness, they whispered. You're worthless. She shuddered. "No," she said weakly. She covered her ears. "Harriet said God loves me. He wants to give me joy." Finally, she turned on her heel and ran to the bathroom just down the hall. She twisted off the cap of the pill bottle, then emptied it into the toilet. With a sense of deep satisfaction, she pressed the handle and watched them disappear.
After that, she went down to the kitchen and found the church directory. She hoped Pastor Blanke wasn't sleeping. Even if he was, he often told his parishioners if they needed him, to call any time, day or night. Jim had always praised the man's compassion. Until just now, Julia had thought that trait a weakness. Now she realized how much her own hard heart needed it. When Mrs. Blanke answered, Julia didn't try to hide the tremor in her voice. "Hello, Mira? This is Julia Frazier. Um… is Pastor Blanke there?"