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Page 1: │One  · Web viewPhil, don’t you and your camcorder need a break? Yeah, I think you do!” ... Amazingly, he had just dodged an oncoming car which served to avoid hitting him

Deborah [email protected]/484-832-6059

Saved by a Mystery

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PART I - First Chapter

“Have a good day!” Ronny shouted from below. “You do the same!” Marcia yelled. He knows! Throwing on a robe, Marcia heads downstairs, just in time to sneak a peek of Ronny’s Range Rover backing out of the driveway. “I’m strangling the person who opened their mouth!” Any other time, Marcia would stop to make herself a cup of coffee, but not this morning. No, on this occasion she needed to start writing, her form of venting, something Marcia adopted as her therapeutic and spiritual sessions with God. Now seated at her desk, Marcia retrieves the steno pad turning to a blank page, placing today’s date on the far left corner. And like every other time, Marcia takes a moment to pray, asking God to speak to her. “Lord, I hope you’re ready because I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

July 21, 2014

God, there’s no doubting Ronny knows. You did notice the look he gave me right before leaving? His devilish smile is a sure indicator. His saying, “I hope you’re not planning on throwing me a surprise birthday party,” tells me Ronny somehow found out. But, which leaked it? I told the loose-lips foursome, Mother Armstrong, Connie, Melinda and Stella not to open their mouths. But, did they listen? Probably not! Yes, God as you know, I did lie in response to Ronny’s question. However, I couldn’t just blurt out, “Yes, Honey, I’m throwing a birthday party for your sixtieth. Okay, I didn’t need to continue lying by telling him that I will be going into work later this morning. Nor, did I need to ask Alice to cover for me, telling him I’m in the field, if he calls. But, God this is an important day, and it requires creativity on all levels. Forgive me? Now on a real serious note, I need you to keep my mother and sister-in-law from plucking my nerves while we’re preparing food. I know you love them too, like I do, but they can be a handful. I know you remember those occasions we were at each other’s throat. Maybe I just need to remind them I’m the chief in the kitchen. Never mind. Lord, just have Your way. Amen.

Glancing at the clock, Marcia calculates another hour before Dolores’ arrival, allowing enough time to work on her appearance. However, her mother-in-law’s custom of ringing the doorbell five times followed by two rapid knocks signaled differently.

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“Seriously! I’m not ready!” Marcia fumes. Looking in the mirror, her hair still needed work, as well as her face. But she’ll just have to fix them both later. There was a more important matter waiting-her eager mother-in-law. “I’m coming!” Marcia shouts. “Here I am ready for duty!” Dolores enthusiastically greets. Whatever irritation Marcia felt over Dolores’ early arrival vanished at the sight of her draped in an apron and a tote bag stuffed with cooking essentials. “Yes, you are, and good morning,” Marcia said planting a kiss on her cheek. “I’m a little early. But, I’m just so excited!” “Me too! Come on in.”

“Now, I’m moving a little slower this morning, but I don’t want any discussion about it.” “Mother Armstrong, are you alright?” “Didn’t you hear me? It’s just these old bones of mine acting up. So, just wipe that concerned look from your face! I told Ronny the same thing when he called checking on me with his hundred questions. End of conversation,” Dolores said emphatically. Marcia knew better than to press the matter with the eighty-three-year old matriarch, a woman she considers more of a mother than an in-law. As much as she worried over Dolores’ well-being she nevertheless admired her mother-in-law’s independent spirit, one she guarded ferociously. “Okay Mother Armstrong, no more on that subject.” “Good! So what do you want me to do?” “Since we still have another hour or so before Connie arrives, I want you to march into the kitchen, sit down, and let me pour you a cup of your favorite tangerine flavored tea.” “So that’s what I smell! But are you sure that I can’t start doing something?” “Yes, I am.” “Okay, this old woman knows when to argue, and when to just be quiet.” “Good. I’ll warm up some banana bread to go with our tea.” “Sounds perfect! But would you mind first grabbing all those bags from my trunk? I just brought a few more things with me.” “What kind of stuff Mother Armstrong?” “Just a couple of things like my favorite pots and pans, that’s all.  I know you have more than enough of everything in your kitchen, but I’m just so use to cooking with my things.   I’ll just go in and start pouring our tea.” The supposed “couple of things” requiring two trips consists of two large pots and four small pans, along with two bags full of groceries.

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“I hope you don’t mind all that extra stuff. I thought it best to make sure we don’t run out.” “How thoughtful of you.” Hold my tongue Lord!

***

Seconds after the grandfather clock’s chime signaling the arrival of eleven o’clock came the piercing sound of a car horn seemingly stuck. “Connie’s here!” Marcia announced. “She needs to stop all that car honking craziness,” Dolores said annoyedly. Marcia didn’t respond to her mother-in-law’s “pot calling a kettle black” observation, a shared idiosyncrasy, both of which she’s learned to accept and even find humorous. “Hey Mom,” Connie greets. “One day your car horn is really going to get stuck.” “Yeah right. Hey Sis.” Marcia repeats the sisterly reference, one the two coined decades back while attending Michigan State as the only African American females in the college’s accounting program. “You missed out on some delicious banana bread,” Dolores announced. “I did!” “Mother Armstrong, you know we should have saved Connie a slice.” “No, we shouldn’t have!” Dolores’ response gave way to laughter, as well as Marcia’s ponderance over their disposition after several hours working in the kitchen with their strong personalities. Will we be laughing or throwing flour at each like we’ve done before. Lord, I think it’s a good time to start praying. “Mother Armstrong, Connie, in a little while we’re going to start working on Ronny’s meal,” Marcia said in a serious tone. “As much as we love each other, we’ve butt heads in the past and feelings have gotten hurt. But we’re not going to let it happen today. So, let’s grab hands and take it to the Almighty. Mother Armstrong, please go first.” “Oh thank You Lord for allowing us to see this important day, my eldest son’s birthday. We ask for Your presence; remove egos and anything preventing us women and those to come from working as a team. Amen.” “Yes Lord, let us work in harmony with one accord. Because it’s truly isn’t about us but about my brother Ronny, celebrating him. Keep us right Lord. In Jesus’ name. Amen.” “I’m in agreement for everything prayed. Keep us humble. There are no bosses in the kitchen other than You Lord. In these things we pray. Amen.”

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***

“I believe we operated like a well-oiled machine in that kitchen,” Connie announced now relaxing at the dining room table. “God answering prayer,” Marcia said, placing out the blueberry muffins she’d set aside for their much needed break. “Oh I hope you got some tea brewing,” Dolores speculated. “You know she does,” Connie assured. Marcia could hear the tiredness in her mother and sister-in-law’s voices. Quite understandable after nearly three hours of standing on their feet working in a kitchen feeling at times like a sauna. Nevertheless, there were no complaints, no egos ebbing for command. No, they were each too busy taking care of their meal assignment. Even the young volunteers, Ronny’s nieces and nephews, were focused on doing their part, regardless of how menial it appeared. “Come on sit down, Marcia Armstrong! You need to rest too.” Marcia could hear Dolores calling after her, as she’d disappeared into the living room inspecting once again the teenager’s decorations. Well done! “Okay, Mother Armstrong, I’m sitting,” Marcia said. “I just wanted to give the decorations one more look.” “Well did they change from the tenth time you checked them out?” Marcia didn’t say anything other than give her mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek. “So, Marcia do you think my brother sniffed out we’re planning a party for him?” “Possibly, since just this morning he asked me whether I was planning something for his sixtieth birthday. Of course I lied, and said no.” “My son, you can’t get anything pass him.” “Well, there is one thing for certain my brother’s going to be happy eating his favorite foods. You know he’s always complaining how you are starving him to death!” Connie teased. “Yeah, I hear it all the time, and I pay him no mind. I feed him what the cardiologist say he should eat. Ronny’s only get the green light because Dr. Chin gave me permission for his birthday. Tomorrow, he’s back to bread and water.” “I wished my dear Ronald had a Dr. Chin,” Dolores said solemnly.  “Maybe he’d be alive today.”  Marcia immediately regrets making mention of the cardiologist after detecting the sadness in her mother-in-law’s tone. Even after eight years, Ronald Armstrong Sr.’s passing is still painful to the woman whose marriage lasted nearly five decades. “I’m sorry I brought the subject up,” Marcia said attempting to console Dolores.

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“You said nothing wrong. After all the years, I should be better at handling it.” Watching Connie hug her mother, Marcia couldn’t help but ponder over Ronny’s condition and whether he follow in his father’s footsteps and become another fatality of heart disease. Thankfully, the sound of the teakettle broke the spirit of despair attempting to spoil the joyful anticipation of the occasion.      “Mother Armstrong, I think that means your tea is ready,” Marcia said hastily.  “Wonderful! I could use it right now,” Dolores said patting her eyes. “Well, I want to go on record as speculating that my niece Melinda is pregnant,” Connie announced. Marcia did not respond as she busied preparing Dolores’ tea. She wanted to shield any hint of knowing the truth after posing the same question to Melinda a week earlier after speculating over her daughter’s frequent tummy rubbing. Yes, she’s pregnant, but she made me swear not to tell anyone, wanting to announce it tonight during Ronny’s party. “No you’re wrong, Connie.  Trust me, if Melinda were pregnant she would have told me by now,” Marcia said emphatically.   “Most definitely she would have told her grandmamma!” Dolores blurted. “Okay, I’m wrong,” Connie sighed.  “Ted is always getting on me for analyzing things too much.”  Connie narrowly completed her thoughts before the grandfather clock’s chime, causing Marcia to inspect her watch. “My goodness, look at the time! It’s 3:30!” Marcia said jumping to her feet. “How did the time go by so fast?” “Daughter, what do you want us to do?” Marcia knew she must be acting anxious since Dolores rarely called her daughter other than as a form of comfort. I guess I need comforting. What’s wrong with you Marcia? Why are you feeling this way all of a sudden? “Well, we still need to change. I need to fix my hair, face. Connie and your car need moving, Ronny will know for sure something is going on if he sees them. People will start arriving soon.” “No problem. I’ll go move the cars,” Connie said heading for the door. “And bring in my change of clothes hanging in the car.” “Mother Armstrong, I don’t know why I’m so nervous this time around. I’ve coordinated other birthday parties for Ronny and never been like this,” Marcia said in an almost inaudible voice. “You’re still worried, because of his last attack,” Dolores comforted. “Then everything I said earlier about Ronald, Sr. brought it all to the surface.”

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Marcia didn’t answer, fearful she’ll ignite in tears over her mother-in-law’s accurate assessment. “Everything will be perfect tonight. You’ll see. It’ll be a night you’re remember for a long time. Trust me.”

***

Now a little after 11:00 p.m., Ronny and Marcia are sprawled across their bed, listening to the antiquated vacuum, after receiving a command from the cleaning crew to “go upstairs and relax.” “Hon, that thing has got to go,” Ronny uttered firmly.   “Why? I love the sound of a car backfiring right in our living room,” Marcia teased. “It still works after thirty-four years!” “I’m still amazed how I’ve been able to last for thirty-four years under your dictatorship.” “Oh really! I’ll remember your words the next time you want something!” Marcia said playfully. “You know I loved my party.” “Now be honest, were you surprised?”  “Nope.” “I thought you knew!” “But I did act surprised.”   “Yes, you did.  For a minute there, I thought your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets after hearing the word, ‘Surprise!’”    “I’d like to see your face with forty people shouting at you. Did you have make Phil follow me around videotaping my every step?” “Yes! One day, our grandchild will want to see the reaction on Pop-pop’s face after learning about his or her conception.” “See, I’m tearing up now.” “Well, just think how I felt the first time I heard it.”  “Are you saying you knew about this beforehand and didn’t say anything?” “Yes! And I wanted to tell you, but Melinda made me take an oath of secrecy. She wanted to give the news to her Daddy on his birthday. I couldn’t spoil that!” “Okay, I’ll let you off the hook.” “Ronny, do you know how long we’ve been waiting for a grandbaby?” “Too long, but finally God answered our prayers.” For the next few minutes, the two held each other tightly, oblivious to the shouts coming from downstairs signifying the cleaning crew’s departure. team.   They were too engulfed in the pleasure of their soon-to-be grandparents’ status. “Well Hon, get ready! I’m about to bring forth another answered prayer.” “Oh really?”

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“I’ve been tossing around the idea for quite some time, and now I think it’s time for me to retire from the restaurant.” At first, Marcia shrugged Ronny’s words off until detecting the seriousness in his face. Afterwards, she didn’t know whether to jump up and down on the bed “Hallelujah!” or panic. “Ronny, has something happened?” Possibly it may have been her worried expression which caused Ronny to kiss her forehead and whisper he was okay. Whatever the reason, Marcia knew she needed it.     “After hearing I’m going to be a Pop-pop, I knew the time is now.” Are you really certain this time Ronny? You’ve said this before. But Marcia didn’t ask for further confirmation. She didn’t want to ruin the moment. “I can tell you’re wondering whether I’m serious this time. I’ve already spoken to Bernard about it, and I’m going to be sitting down with the attorneys next week to take care of the legal end.”  “This time it’s for real!” “Yes, it is.” Feeling overjoyed, Marcia planted kisses throughout her husband’s face, as well as giving him a gigantic hug. “Well, if I knew this would be your reaction, I’d have retired a long time ago.” “I know it’s going to be a big adjustment stepping down from Eatin’ Good.”  Ronny said nothing, but Marcia could tell he was mulling over her statement.  “I’ve been working in that business for most of my life, even during college.” “I can still remember when I was on Spring Break, and I just wanted some of your parents’ delicious chicken. Bernard was on the cash register.  Dad and Mother Armstrong were in the back cooking.”  “Come on, you were there to check me out!”    “Wrong, for the hundredth time!” “Your best friend Stella says otherwise. She said you wanted to catch a glimpse of Denzel Washington’s look-alike.” “I’m done talking to you! Good night!”   Not long after, Marcia could hear Ronny clearing his voice, not just once, but in several successions.  Without even turning over, Marcia knew he wanted her attention.   “Yes, Honey, do you want something from me?”   “Oh, I just our 35thanniversary is coming up.” “In another six months from now.” “And I’ve been pondering over what gift I want.” “Oh really?” “Really.”

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“Can’t this conversation wait until tomorrow? I’m really quite sleepy.” “I believe some things should be taken care while they’re still fresh on one’s mind.” “Okay, Ronny please tell me quickly what you want for your anniversary gift.” “Something you promised me a several years ago.” “Alright Ronald Curtis Armstrong Jr., what promise did I make you several years ago?”   “Oh, I remember your words verbatim: ‘I swear to resume writing upon your retirement.’  Does that ring a bell?” Even drowsy, Marcia remembers saying those words. It took place after learning of Ronny’s unsatisfactory results from his cardiac exam. She tried again to get him to see how overseeing the restaurant continues to negatively impact his health. A theory Ronny vehemently disputed. However, Marcia demanded him to retire, promising to start back writing if he did so. “Yes, it rings a bell. But, do you have to bring it up now?” “I just want to make sure you don’t forget the debt you owe me.” “How could I possibly forget with a husband who will never allow me to! Can I go to sleep now?" “After you promise to start writing again." “You’re kidding right?” “Nope!” “I, Marcia Candice Armstrong do solemnly promise to resume writing again! Good night!” “Oh, there’s just one little adjustment; I want you to write me a story as my anniversary gift.” “You want what!" “Boy am I sleepy. Kiss, kiss.” Marcia could see the gigantic smile on Ronny’s face as he snuggled up bound for sleep, something she no longer felt like doing. Instead, her mind contemplated Ronny’s request, one Marcia knew will be continued tomorrow. Ronny must be crazy thinking I’m going to write him a story by our anniversary, with only six months. God, let it be known: I’m not doing it!

PART III - Chapter Nine

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Marcia once again rewound the video of Ronny’s birthday party, only to be interrupted by the sound of metal scraping metal. She heard the sound before, dismissing it by turning up the DVR’s speaker. But not this time. She wanted it to stop. Looking out the window, Marcia noticed her neighbor’s son having a problem with his snow blower. She reluctantly agreed to his parents' request for him to take care of the snow removal. Like so many other neighbors, they wanted to express sympathy for Ronny’s death. Trying to get the teenager’s attention, Marcia pounded on the bedroom window. She wanted him to stop and go home; however, the newly revived engine obscured her efforts. Returning to the bed, submerging herself underneath the blankets, Marcia hit the DVR’s play button. “I don’t know what to say, other than I am truly blessed to have a family who cares enough to celebrate my sixtieth birthday. The big six o, means I’m getting old, huh? It’s a rhetorical questions; I don’t want to see anyone agreeing, especially you Marcia. And speaking of my lovingly wife, didn’t I say not to throw me a birthday party? Of course you didn’t listen, as you never do. I guess this time, I’m glad you didn’t. Because this turned out as being one of the best birthday parties you’ve thrown for me. And it’s because I just found out I’ll be a Pop-pop soon! I’ll finally get to spoil a child rotten! Okay, I hear the chants for me to open my gifts. Phil, don’t you and your camcorder need a break? Yeah, I think you do!” Just like each other time, Marcia breaks out into a chuckle over the sight of Ronny shielding his face from Phil’s videotaping, then the sight of his being chased around the room by his four-year-old nephew. Yet it’s the sight of her and Ronny dancing to their wedding song, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” bringing Marcia to tears. “The first time, ever I saw your face. I felt the earth…” Marcia’s singing of the dearly loved tune made her miss the first of the four chimes of foyer’s grandfather clock. However, it the second one caused Marcia to take notice, recollecting her important engagement with Melinda. Jumping from the bed, Marcia turns off the DVR and glances at the clock, signifying little time remaining before her daughter’s arrival. “What’s wrong with you?” The questions stirs Marcia into action, as she grabs some clothes lying on the chair. “Marcia, don’t you know this day is important?” Other than a couple hasty conversations over the phone, it’s been weeks since the two spent time together. Marcia speculated their last get together as the culprit. Melinda felt her mother needed to start the healing process by donating her father’s clothes, something Marcia

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opposed. What begun as a simple disagreement escalated into a shouting match; one resulting in Marcia asking Melinda to leave. Looking in the mirror, Marcia knew her appearance would most likely be a conversation piece, but she didn’t care. A quick wash-up, a pat of her hair and a little lip balm will have to do. “You’ll just have to get angry.” However, she didn’t want another lecture from her daughter on how unkempt the downstairs looks, or another offer to come with Phil and clean. Something, Marcia had emphatically agreed to do herself. Now standing in the middle of the living room she felt somewhat embarrassed at the disarray coming from stacks of unopened mail, clutter and heavy dust accumulations. Not to mention the sight of the Christmas Tree, still untouched and the presents underneath it after nearly three months. But she just didn’t have the energy or the desire to care about gifts, not after losing her most important gift, Ronny. The view caused Marcia to feel overwhelmed and tired, much like the days after Ronny’s death. So she headed to her father’s favorite chair, undoubtedly her most favorite piece of furniture in the entire house, given as a wedding gift by her mother. Ronny often joked about its ability to put her asleep, and Marcia never disputed the chair’s power to make her feel at peace, safe and secure within its snug cushions. Now seated, Marcia felt the anxiety and tiredness leave along with concerns about the condition of the house. Sitting there, she allowed her mind to drift to the image of her father with his feet propped on a footstool, eyes closed and a faint smile. And like so many other times, Marcia soon nodded off, oblivious to the knock at the door. At first, Marcia perceived the tapping sound a dream. However, it became obvious, as the noise grew louder, it’s came from the front door. Becoming more lucid, Marcia recognized the sound now as a doorbell. Melinda’s here! Jumping up from the chair, she runs towards the foyer’s mirror, inspecting her appearance. “Hold on, I’m coming!” Marcia yelled. Her words were greeted with the emergence of Melinda, followed by Stella and Connie. “Hello, Mom. I decided to use my key. I’d been knocking for a while before ringing the doorbell. Are you okay?” “Yes, I’m okay.” What’s Stella and Connie doing here? “Hey there,” Stella greeting with a hug. “You had us worried that something had happened.” “Hello Sis,” Connie said with a kiss. “Mom, were you in the bathroom or something?” “Melinda, I thought we were going to spend the afternoon together just the two of us,” Marcia inquired. “I’m the culprit,” Stella said raising her hand. “I found out about you and Melinda’s lunch date and wanted to join.”

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“Likewise,” Connie echoed. “Mom, I didn’t think you would mind.” “It’s not about rather I mind or not. I just would like to know such things. I think I have that right.” “You know what, Marcia’s right. We should have asked if we could come over first,” Stella injected. “Stella, I don’t need you to defend me. I can do that perfectly on my own.” “I’m sorry, you’re right.” “Mom, everything looks nice.” “Yes, it does,” Connie repeated. Marcia didn’t know how much longer she could put up with their charade. Connie and Stella were here for specific reason, not a last minute visit. Why are you two here. “Well if you think it looks good in here now, you should have seen it last week,” Marcia said with a forced smirk. “A good one,” Stella responded with a chuckle. “I’ll have to remember it.” “So Mom, what have you been up to?” “Well, thanks to Stella’s big mouth, I don’t have to lie and make up some story about my job, since the cats out of the bag.” “I just thought that Melinda needed to know. We all care about you. So…” “So, it didn’t matter my telling you not to mention I’d been forced to take leave of absence because I didn’t want to upset Melinda, as she’s pregnant. What a best friend you are!” “Sis, we just want to make sure you’re okay. Stella, thought it best to share the news with us,” Connie injected. I’m really not feeling in the sisterly mood now. So, you can stop calling me Sister. By now, Marcia no longer wanted to hide her discontent over their tag teaming. She wanted to know the real reason for their visit, including Melinda’s. “Okay, I think it’s time the elephant in the room announce itself. From the minute you each walked in, I sensed something wrong going on. So spare me this little formality and let it out. What’s going on?” “Mom, you’re right. There is something we want to discuss with you,” Melinda said solemnly. “I’m all ears.” Stella retrieves from her purse a card, placing it in Marcia’s hand. “What’s this?” “Just look at it,” Stella directed. “Dr. Stanley Cole, grief therapist,” Marcia reads inspecting the item. “A week ago, the three of us including Mother Armstrong, went to see him on your behalf.” “You did what!”

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“Now just calm down, Sis,” Connie said. “We just briefly spoke about our losing Ronny and how it’s impacted you.” “No, you calm down! What gives each of you the right to go and discuss my business with some stranger?” “Mom, we just wanted to make sure he was legit before recommending him to you.” “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Marcia said now pacing the floor. “Marcia, why don’t we all just go to the dining room and sit down. I’ll make some coffee, and we can discuss this,” Stella said reaching for Marcia. “I don’t need you to make me any coffee. How dare each of you make me out to be some kind of lunatic to this man?” “Now that’s a bunch of foolish talking. Needing a therapist doesn’t make someone crazy,” Connie surmised. “No one thinks you’re crazy. You just need to talk over your pain,” Stella said. “Mom, we just want you to have someone to talk to, someone who understands why you’re acting like you are.” “Why I’m acting like I am!” Marcia yelled. “Have you forgotten that I buried the love of my life, your father! For God’s sake, I hope you never lose Phil, because then you'll understand.” Right after uttering those words, Marcia wished she could retrieve them. Instead, she just gave Melinda look of regret. “See, why you need counseling? Your anger is making you say erratic things like that,” Connie chimed in. “I wouldn’t said such things if you three hadn’t ganged up on me.” Marcia said trying to hold back tears. “It’s because we love you,” Stella pleaded. “Yes Mom we do.” “Why don’t you just go see him one time,” Connie reckoned. “Trust me Marcia, you will like him. He’s humorous,” Stella announced. “So what are you trying to do? Fix me up on a date?” Marcia questioned. “Of course no one is trying to fix you up on a date. I’m just trying to share how easy it would be to talk with him.” “Great! Then why don’t you talk to him Stella. Better yet, you date him! You will not only have a boyfriend, but someone to help keep your emotions in balance.” “I’m done!” Stella said throwing up her hands. “Melinda, I’ll be waiting in the car.” “I’ll join you Stella,” Connie said with exasperation.

***

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Marcia could hardly blame Melinda if she joined Connie and Stella, but her daughter didn’t budge. “Mom,” Melinda faintly called after her. Marcia knew she needed to make amends. She couldn’t jeopardize their relationship, especially now with the baby coming. More than any person, Marcia needed Melinda. “I’m sorry for those thoughtless words. I just couldn’t stop feeling angry at what you all did,” Marcia said reaching for Melinda’s hand. “Mom, that’s the problem. You’ve been so angry,” Melinda said solemnly. “What am I supposed to be? Happy? Cheerful? I lost my husband of thirty-four years!” “And I lost my Daddy. Mom have you forgotten this? I need to grieve too.” “Of course I haven’t forgotten, but it’s not the same,” Marcia responded almost inaudibly. Once again, Marcia could see the sting of her words through Melinda’s expression. Her intentions to seek forgiveness seemed for naught. “I guess I spoke out of turn again,” Marcia muttered. “It’s alright, because I understand.” “Right, since you think I’m crazy and in need of a head doctor,” Marcia said sarcastically. “Mom, I’m not going to argue with you, but I do have something to tell you,” Melinda announced. “If it has anything more to do with seeing a shrink then you can just keep it to yourself.” “Mom, I’ve been spotting.” Marcia felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach causing the room to spin and her losing composure. “Why am I just hearing about it now? Have you told the obstetrician?” “Mom, just calm down. I alerted my obstetrician,” Melinda reassured. “And what did she say.” “She stated that most likely it’s caused by stress from Daddy’s death.” “You need to take a leave of absence from your job, rest more,” Marcia said anxiously. “What I need is to avoid stressful situations as much as possible,” Melinda said solemnly. Marcia felt as if a lightbulb suddenly came on; like a jigsaw puzzle, the pieces were all there. Clarity arrived as to Melinda’s infrequent contacts, all of which to prevent complications with her pregnancy. I’m the complication. “So I’m the problem?” Marcia asked remorsefully.

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“Seeing you this way began affecting me.” Marcia allowed Melinda’s words to soak in. As painful as it was to hear that she was the source of potential harm for her grandbaby, it needed to be acknowledged. She could tell from Melinda’s expression she didn’t want to cause her pain. “Mom, you know how long it took for me to get pregnant. I just can’t jeopardize having a healthy baby. So if you refuse to go and see this therapist or someone else for that matter, then I won’t be coming around until after the baby’s born,” Melinda said sternly.

***

The chiming of the grandfather clock informed Marcia another hour is approaching. Just like the other chimes before, she did little to change her position in the wicker chair. Marcia still needed to allow herself to digest what had transpired earlier, specifically between her and Melinda. Learning about her daughter’s spotting and how she’s the cause needed much contemplating. Marcia just couldn’t wrap her head around it being anything other than a ploy to get her to see the therapist. Nevertheless, Marcia she accepted her daughter’s ultimatum to make an appointment with this Dr. Cole. She promised to do today. Now, staring at the card for this Dr. Stanley Cole, doubts started to surface. Why should I be made to see a shrink just to please my daughter? I’m not crazy. I don’t need to talk with anyone. I just need being left alone! But she couldn’t dismiss the thoughts consuming her mind: It’s the only way to get back with Melinda. She won’t see you otherwise. You need to spend time with you daughter. Do it! So with much reservation, Marcia dials the number listed on the card and is greeted by a female. “Yes, you can help me. I would like to make an appointment to see Dr. Stanley Cole, at his earliest convenience.”

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Final Chapter

Marcia decided on walking two blocks to get a ice cream cone after finishing up her therapy session. Perfect for a nice stroll! For early April, it felt more like the middle of May with temperatures hovering in the high 70’s. Look at the line. Even from a block away, Marcia could see a crowd forming around the ice cream car, one seemingly becoming larger as she got nearer. Positioning herself behind an older white male, Marcia counted herself to be the thirteenth in line. Is an Oreo fudge sundae worth a possible five minutes wait? Yes, it is! Noticing the writings on the back of the man’s T-shirt brought a smile. Step out of your comfort zone. You may end up never wanting to go back there again. How ironic. It had been the reason compelling Marcia to end her therapy, it began to feel like a comfort zone. So, at the conclusion of today’s session, Marcia announced the time had come. “I remember your telling me, ‘You’ll know when it’s time to end therapy,’ and I think it’s time now.” And much to her surprise, Stanley didn’t signal any disapproval. He instead applauded her for making the decision without any suggestion on his behalf. “Marcia, you’ve come a long way. While you’re still going through the grieving process, you’re doing it the right way.” After reminding her of his availability at anytime, Stanley presented Marcia with one final homework assignment, an ongoing one. “I don’t want you to stop at just completing Ronny’s story; I want you to keep on writing. God’s has many story to bring to life through you.”

***

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Now seated on the bench, several feet away from the playground, Marcia debated over purchasing another delicious Oreo fudge ice cream cone, one she consumed in record time. Instead, she chose to save room for the get together Melinda planned for later in the evening to celebrate her contract with Dominion Publishing. Ronny, I still can’t believe your dream is coming true for me. I’ll soon be a published writer, all because of you. God used you to make it happen. If only you could be here to enjoy this blessing with. Instantly, Marcia thought she heard a whisper, “I am with you.” Not here Marcia. Her eyes began to moisten with thoughts of Ronny, and it caused her to retrieve the pamphlet Stanley gave her. A compilation of thoughts he’d written about “grieving the right way.”

It’s okay if you find yourself crying over a familiar gesture if it reminds you of your loved one. Those are good tears. You’ve cried enough painful ones.

It’s okay if you still refer to your deceased loved one in the present term because he or she will forever be alive in your heart.

It’s okay if you have a hard time departing with everything that reminds you of the one you ache for. There will be plenty of time to say goodbye to those things later.

It’s okay if you continue cooking his or her favorite foods, leaving it at their place at the table. While you know he or she won’t be eating it, do it!

It’s okay if you find yourself enjoying life. Remember your loved one never wanted you to be sad when he or she was alive, so don’t think any differently because your loved one is gone.

Thank you Stanley. I needed those words. Returning the pamphlet to it’s former spot, Marcia saw the resignation letter addressed to Martin McLaughlin, one she plans on dropping at the post office later. Another comfort zone, Marcia decided to end, one became a large part of her life. But she needed to let go of it as well, in order to move into the next chapter of her life. The pastor wanted her to oversee a grief support group at the church, a ministry she’d thought necessary, even before Ronny’s

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death. And now, she’d truly be prepared to help others go through “grieve the right way.” Okay Marcia, I think it’s time we start moving along. We’ve several errands to run. And just as she collected her purse, preparing to get up, a dog headed directly into the street, dragging a lease alongside him. Marcia could sense the dog’s fear, as he paced back and forth. Dog you need to get out of street before you’re hit by a car. Amazingly, he had just dodged an oncoming car which served to avoid hitting him. I need to do something. However, Marcia’s determination to protect the dog became moot by the sound of a whistle, coming from the dog’s owner. “Come here Ralphie!” Instantly, the dog made haste towards the voice he knew all to well, something displayed by his tale wagging and the tongue licking of the man’s cheeks. Watching the man and dog walk away, Marcia reflected how she once felt lost and afraid for the future without Ronny. However, like this man, her Master came looking for her. Marcia knew she needed to record her thoughts, whereby retrieving from her purse the notepad, turning to an empty page. April 2, 2015 Sometimes we forget, as I did, because of anger and fear, God’s presence. How He’s just waiting to take us back. Thank You Lord for chasing after me, calling after me.

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