Mother of Prevention Read online

  Faith, I heard an inner voice whisper. You should try a dose, Kate.

  For over twenty minutes—which seemed more like twenty hours—we rode out the severe instability. Then gradually, mercifully, I felt the plane start to climb. The rocking lessened and then eventually leveled off. Now it felt as if we were traveling down an incredibly rocky road—like being in a boat and hitting rough water—but the nose of the plane held steady.

  My grip on the seat arm started to relax; my muscles throbbed from the exertion. Faith. I heard Neil’s voice in my mind. What good is faith if you don’t practice it?

  What good, indeed? I glanced at my panic-stricken daughters and thought, Kate Madison, what are you doing? By instilling constant fear in their young minds, they’ll never fly or take any risks when they grow up. And if they never take risks they’ll miss out on the best parts of their lives. Paris. Hawaii. Scotland. You couldn’t drive to those adventures.

  I had to stop this. I had to portray a more positive attitude. I made myself smile, and told the girls that turbulence was just a part of flying, nothing to worry about in the least.

  I wasn’t sure they believed me; I don’t know if I believed myself. But I was tired of constant worry.

  An hour later the aircraft touched safely down in Oklahoma City and screamed down the runway.

  We were home. And we were safe. I pointed this out to the girls.

  I think they still didn’t believe me.

  We arrived back at the house weary and disappointed. The girls headed straight for their bedrooms. Mom and Dad got in only a few brief questions before I headed up the stairs.

  “How was the flight?”

  “Awful. I thought we were going down twice.”

  Mom tssked. “Kate, you’re always so dramatic.”

  I didn’t want to argue. I believed God was trying to tell me to swear off flying. This time I was going to listen.

  I dragged my bag up the stairway.

  “Oh, Kate?”

  “Yeah, Mom.”

  “There’s a message on the machine for you. It’s from some Realtor.”

  “The rental agency?” I paused. Now what? Had the apartment been leased after all? There had been some confusion, but the lady had clearly said the apartment that Kelli and Kris wanted would be vacated by the twenty-ninth.

  “From whom?”

  “Some man by the name of Gray. Mitchell, I believe he said.”

  I turned and peered over the railing. “Gray Mitchell? What’s the message?”

  Mom pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Let’s see—oh, yes. He said to tell you congratulations. You got the house, and not to worry. He’d called on a friend for a personal favor and you have a closing date and date of possession. One week from yesterday, if that’s what you want.”

  I sank down on the steps, my legs too weak to hold me. The words beat a tattoo in my heart. You got the house.

  It was as if God had spoken.

  Chapter 9

  It was the day before we had to load up everything we owned and move all the way across country to California. I picked up the kids at school and drove home. What was I, a transplanted Okie, going to do in California? Well, for starters I was going to have to make our first Christmas without Neil a good one, for Kris’s and Kelli’s sakes. I had to admit God had thrown me a curve on the house, but I still wasn’t prepared to admit that I’d been the one to step away, not Him.

  I would begin a new life, and I would have to do it in a new house where everything was still packed in boxes. Right now I couldn’t even remember which box held the Christmas tree.

  “Mom? Are we going to open presents tonight?” Kelli asked, her face screwed up in anticipation.

  “Only the ones from Grandma and Papa. They want to see you open your gifts. The rest we’ll open on Christmas morning in our new home.”

  Kelli already knew the answer, mainly because she asked the same question on an average of five times every day. It seemed as if her grief for Neil had solidified around an anxiety that they might not have a good Christmas. It wasn’t that Kelli was greedy. Usually she wasn’t all that concerned about gifts. I thought it must be a security thing. Christmas was supposed to come, therefore in a world where nothing else was working out the way it should, Kelli wanted Christmas to be the same as it always had been. I could identify with that.

  Kris sighed. “Are Grandma and Papa going to move with us?”

  “No.” I felt an involuntary shiver. I love my parents to pieces—I just like a little distance between us. “Did you think they would?”

  Kris shook her head. “I just wondered.”

  I didn’t want to pursue that line of thought any further. I loved my mother, of course I did. It was just that Mom could be so overwhelming sometimes. Maybe Kris was feeling overwhelmed. I knew I was.

  I sat in my driveway missing the decorations we usually put up. Even if I had been in the mood this year, which I wasn’t, it was too early. And since we were moving tomorrow, it would have been foolish to put up decorations and take them down a few days later, but still I missed the lights, the electric candles, the crèche we always displayed in the picture window in the living room.

  Neil always made a ceremony out of putting up the crèche. He would read the story from the Bible, and at the proper times the girls would arrange the figurines. Like everything else, the crèche was packed away. Maybe next year we could get back to the well-loved tradition. I doubted if I could have gotten through it this year without dissolving in a puddle of tears. Oh, Neil! I missed him more with every passing day.

  The girls had already run into the house, and I followed slowly, realizing this was the last night I would spend here. The Himeses were anxious to move in. Loretta Himes had already been over twice to measure for drapes, and the second time she was accompanied by carpet and appliance salesmen. She was going to get the new stove. I felt as if I had sold a piece of my heart.

  The house smelled of turkey and sage and cherry pies. A nice homey smell. Mom was in the kitchen, dressed in black pants and a black chiffon top with flowing sleeves and a glittery pattern of iridescent swirls lighting the somber fabric. Not exactly the perfect garb for cooking, but at least it was festive. I felt like a drab little wren in my tan pants, cream sweater and tweed jacket, but then I had never been as flamboyant as Mom.

  “What can I do?”

  Mom waved her hand. “Nothing. I’ve got it all ready. You go wash up. Frank can help me get the food on the table.”

  Dad stuck his head around the door. “See, you can’t get by without me.”

  Mom cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “It might be fun to try. You sure weren’t much help with the Thanksgiving crowd.”

  “Fun! Everything has to be fun.” Dad picked up the turkey. “How much fun do you think it is for the turkey? Ever think about that? And if you hadn’t invited half the state for our pre-Thanksgiving dinner I wouldn’t have been so nuts!” With the last words he raised his voice and mocked Mom so perfectly, even she had to laugh.

  Mom shook her head. “Just carve the thing. We’re ready to eat.”

  We gathered around the table, and I tried not to think of the one family member who should have been here doing the carving and leading the family in the Christmas dinner blessing. I would have preferred to skip this celebration, but my parents had insisted we observe tradition, albeit early.

  Mom nodded. “Frank, say the blessing.”

  “I carved the turkey.”

  “Don’t be cute. Say the blessing.”

  He stretched his lips in a phony smile and wiggled his eyebrows. “You think I’m cute?”

  Kelli giggled and Mom batted her eyelashes. “Not as cute as Tom Cruise. Say the blessing.”

  I shook my head, looking at them, Mom with her strawberry-blond hair fluffed out around her face in a halo, Dad tall and lanky, bald and acting goofy. They were trying to give the girls a Christmas send-off. I loved them. They were a special gift from God…as long as I didn’t h
ave to live in the same state with them.

  We had a hurried breakfast the next morning before the moving van arrived. Kelli had lost her shoes. Sailor was having a nervous breakdown, running from room to room barking, and Kris was on the phone calling everyone she knew to say goodbye.

  Mom was busy telling the moving men how to do their job; they didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to her. Dad helped me load the car. I stood for a minute looking up at our house, remembering the good times and blinking back tears.

  He reached over and put his arms around me. “Don’t cry, kid. It’s just a house. What goes on in the house is what makes it a home. You’ll build a home in California.”

  “It won’t be the same.”

  “Nothing is ever the same.”

  I smiled up at him. “Why, Dad. That’s profound. Are you turning into a sage?”

  “Either that or I’m quoting your mother. Is that all you want to take in the car?”

  “I guess so. I have to leave room for the girls and the dog.”

  “In that case, I’d better go find your mother before they seal her in a box and load her in the van to get rid of her.”

  I laughed and followed him back to the house. An hour later we said goodbye in the driveway, and my parents got in their car and left for Kansas. The girls and I drove away, following the moving van.

  “California, here we come,” I sang, trying to sound cheerful for the girls’ sake.

  “I’m not going to like California,” Kelli said.

  “How do you know you won’t?”

  “I’ve made up my mind not to like it,” she said, a trifle smugly. “I don’t have to like it if I don’t want to.”

  Kris rolled her eyes. “You sound just like Grandma.”

  Amen, I thought, but I said, “Give it a chance, girls. There are a lot of fun things to do in California. You’ll see. We can go to the beach. And, oh…lots of things.”

  Deep down, I felt like Kelli. I wasn’t going to like California. I had already made up my mind. I kept my eyes on the moving van, afraid if I lost sight of it I might lose sight of my new life. Not in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined I would be driving to San Francisco with everything I owned, two disgruntled girls and a dog that wanted to go to the bathroom at every rest stop.

  Three days later we arrived in San Francisco in the middle of a citywide garbage strike. Plastic bags overflowed garbage bins and the odor reminded me of the time Neil had unplugged the freezer during a lightning storm and forgotten to plug it back in. We had hauled out tons of rotten food. Multiply that by an entire city and it didn’t smell like Chanel No 5.

  Kelli wrinkled her nose. “California stinks.”

  I ignored her. The van stopped in front of our house, and three hours later drove away. I looked around at the furniture and the boxes to be unpacked. I felt like sitting down and crying. A knock on the door interrupted my brewing pity party.

  I answered to find a short, chubby woman dressed in blue-and-black-checked cropped pants, a blue sweater and blue leather mules. The stylist in me didn’t miss her cute brown bob. Her brown eyes twinkled with fun and her smile had enough wattage to light up all of San Francisco.

  “I’m your neighbor Mazi Hollingsworth. I just wanted to stop in and say welcome to the neighborhood!”

  She extended a plate of Christmas cookies, the cutout kind shaped like trees and angels and wreaths. There was even a Santa Claus decorated with red sugar. The kind of cookies I always planned to make and could never find the time.

  I took the plate of goodies and ushered our visitor inside. “Sorry the place is such a mess. I’d offer you a cup of coffee, but I haven’t found the pot yet.”

  Mazi laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come back some other time for coffee. So, how do you like San Francisco?”

  “I haven’t had time to see much of it.” I set the tray on the table and pulled out a chair. “You’re my neighbor on which side?”

  “Left side,” Mazi said. “Handy enough to be a pest.”

  I couldn’t see this warm, friendly person being a pest. Somehow the day seemed brighter since she had arrived. “You’re the first neighbor I’ve met.” I looked around at the cluttered room with boxes of things to be put away. “This is only the second time I’ve ever moved. And I sure don’t plan on doing it again anytime soon.”

  Mazi grinned. “I’m a navy brat. I’ve moved more times than I can count.”

  “Are you married?” Kris asked.

  I frowned at her. Hadn’t I taught her not to ask personal questions?

  Mazi laughed. “Yes, I have a husband. He’s not home much. He’s a pharmaceutical salesman, so he travels. In fact, he’s gone more than he’s here.”

  “Do you have kids?” Kelli sneaked a cookie shaped like a star and bit off one of the points.

  “No. I do have three cats, though. Persians.”

  Kelli bit off another point. “I like dogs.”

  Yep, my mother incarnate. I gave Kelli a look intended to convey my disapproval, which she completely ignored. “Don’t you girls have something to do?”

  “No.” Kris took an angel and bit off its head.

  Mazi laughed. “I don’t mind. We’re going to be close neighbors and before long we’ll know quite a bit about each other. I love kids.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad you came over, Mazi. I was feeling sorry for myself before you came.”

  Having a friendly neighbor would go a long way toward my new adjustment. By the time Mazi went home we were on the way toward a solid friendship.

  I woke from a sound sleep with the impression someone was shaking my bed. I jerked to a sitting position, staring around the room. The pictures on the wall swung back and forth. The house vibrated. The girls ran down the hall toward my bedroom, their bare feet slapping against the floorboards.

  Earthquake! I leaped from the bed and met them in the doorway. We clung together as Sailor galloped down the hall to join us. I could feel him quivering against my legs. The tremor lasted only a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. I had fled Oklahoma for this? What were a few dust storms and a couple of tornadoes compared to an earthquake?

  I wanted to go home.

  When the motion stopped, I led the girls to the kitchen and turned on the light. One look at their white faces and I knew I had to put my own fear aside and comfort them.

  “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” I couldn’t believe I had said something so silly. Evidently they couldn’t, either

  Kelli stared at me in disbelief. “Fun?”

  Kris shook her head. “Mom! That was an earthquake.”

  “Well, yes, it was, wasn’t it? Our first.”

  Like our first case of the plague? Had I lost my mind? I searched for something half-intelligent to say. “At least we didn’t have to go next door to the basement like we did in tornado season in Oklahoma.”

  Had I made a mistake bringing my children out here to California where the ground could open up and swallow them?

  My cell phone rang and I punched the on button. “Hello?”

  “Kate? This is Mazi. Are you and the girls all right?”

  “We’re fine.” I heard the unease in my voice.

  “Sure you are.” Mazi’s cheerful voice came over the line. “It was a baby tremor. Nothing to worry about. You’ll get used to them.”

  “If you say so.” If she was trying to comfort me, she was definitely choosing the wrong words. My house shaking like a bowl of jelly wasn’t anything I wanted to get used to. “I was just getting ready to fix the girls some hot chocolate.”

  “That’s the ticket. Hot chocolate will cure a lot of ills. No matter what the problem, chocolate helps.” Mazi laughed, a rich, warm chuckle. “What do you think contributed to my excess baggage?”

  “Silly—you’re the perfect size.” I laughed. “I’m buying a box of the best chocolates tomorrow. The next time I have a quake I’ll sit on my bed and eat them.”

  “That’s the sp
irit. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up the phone and looked at the girls, who had calmed down. “What say we skip the hot chocolate and get back to bed? Tomorrow we’ll put up the tree and place the presents around it. Make it look more like Christmas. Okay?”

  They agreed, and surprisingly I didn’t have any trouble going back to sleep.

  Sunday dawned warm and clear. After a thorough search we managed to find the tree and the decorations. I strung the lights on the tree and the girls hung the ornaments. When they were finished I found the star and placed it on top. That had been Neil’s job immediately after Thanksgiving. Now it was mine.

  “Are we going to open our gifts Christmas Eve?” Kelli asked.

  “Do you want to, or would you rather wait until morning?” I stood back to admire our handiwork. The tree looked lovely.

  My daughter thought about it. “Morning, I guess.”

  “Okay, then let’s set out the candles.” I unpacked the electric candles and the girls placed them in the windows, where they glowed like a bit of the home we had left behind.

  Kris stepped back to look at the result. “Where is the crèche?”

  “It’s here somewhere. I know we packed it.” I had a sudden inspiration. “I know what. How about inviting Mazi to come over tonight and we can have a party? I’ll fix dips and snacks. Does that sound like fun?”

  It had been so long since we’d had fun.

  Kelli’s expression brightened. “Can we go over and ask her? I mean me and Kris?”

  I nodded. “Do you want to make an invitation?”

  Kris smiled. “Sure. I know which box has the crayons and paper in it.”

  I left them designing the invitation and set about trying to put my kitchen in order. Soon I had the dishes unpacked and arranged in the freshly washed cabinets. I made out the grocery list while the girls walked next door with Mazi’s invitation. They returned with the news that she would be delighted to attend our party.

  At seven o’clock that night, Mazi showed up dressed in black stretch pants, which were definitely stretched to full capacity, and a black sweater decorated with a sequined picture of Santa Claus surrounded by tiny Christmas lights that flashed on and off. I looked down at my jeans and navy blue sweatshirt. I might have to update my wardrobe. Surely they wore jeans out here.