Lakeside Reunion

“Hello?”

“Oh, Lindsey. Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called. The Andersons called and asked if they could come in a day earlier, so I was making up their room.” Rita, her assistant manager at the inn, sounded out of breath.

“Where’s Amanda?”

“She called off. Her daughter has strep. Poor thing. I called in Cheryl and Lynn to help for the rest of the afternoon. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“None at all. Sorry to leave you with one more thing to deal with. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Don’t think about that for a single minute. We’ll manage. Your mama needs you. Have they discharged her yet?”

Lindsey shouldered the cell phone and straightened the magazines on the table. She told Rita about her mother’s surgery.

“Gracious sakes, Lindsey. Don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing. Paul and I will take care of everything. Stay with your mother and help her to get better.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Rita. I’d be so lost without you. Don’t forget the Topliffs are arriving later this afternoon. Mrs. Topliff is allergic to flowers, so be sure to switch out the fresh flowers with silk ones from the supply closet. Ask Paul to fill the birdfeeders with that new sunflower mix I bought last week.” A beep sounded in her ear. “My cell phone is about to die and the charger is in my office. Is there any possible way you could call Tony at the garage and find out about my car? Depending on what’s happening with Mom, I may be able to swap cars this evening if my convertible is done. Call Mom’s house and leave a message, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, not at all, doll. I’ll do it right awa—” The rest of Rita’s words were cut off as the phone died. Lindsey tossed it into her purse.

She strode to the window that overlooked the parking garage. Kicking off her pumps, she dug her toes into the nubs of the industrial-grade berber carpet. How long before she could take that hot bath, put on warm pajamas and crawl into bed for about twelve straight hours of sleep?

Scalloped clouds crowded out the September sun. What there was of it. As the afternoon wore on, rain had returned and assaulted the sidewalks with a raging force. Rivulets raced down the pane and bounced off the window ledge. Lightning slashed the sky like an impatient sword as thunder echoed between the buildings, rattling glass and brick.

Lindsey closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Come on already. She needed some news. Any news.

Someone tugged on her skirt. “Lindsey?”

She turned. A woman sitting in a wheelchair smiled at her.

Lindsey dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the woman’s bony shoulders. “Aunt Claire! When did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago. I met Mom and Dad in the hall and chatted with them for a few minutes. I would’ve been here sooner, but work was crazy today.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you own the trendiest boutique in Shelby Lake. Loved the pictures you emailed. And the fab website. Not bad for being open a year.”

“Yes, I’ve been blessed. Enough about me. How are you doing? Honestly.”

Lindsey tucked her feet under her and shrugged. “Tired of waiting.”

“I know, hon.” Aunt Claire reached for Lindsey’s hand. “Waiting is the toughest part. I’m sure there will be news soon. In the meantime, keep praying. Your mom’s in God’s hands.”

“Right.”

Aunt Claire laughed. “Could you be any less convincing?”

“Dad was in God’s hands, remember?”

Aunt Claire smiled and finger-combed Lindsey’s hair behind her ear. “When I lost Ben to that drunk driver and learned I’d never walk again, I hated God. He took my fiancé. Bound me to a life as a cripple. I wanted nothing to do with Him. In fact, I threatened your grandma that if she prayed over me one more time, I was moving out.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But you’ve been preaching to me for years that God is in control. What changed?”

“Twenty-five years of prayer. But it wasn’t always that way. When I first learned I’d never walk again, I had to attend therapy sessions to learn how to use my upper body. I met a woman—Kathy Armstrong. She lost both legs to infection. She wheeled over to me, invited herself to my pity party and told me something I’ll never forget for the rest of my life.”

“What’s that?”

“She looked at my lifeless legs, back to where hers used to be and quietly whispered, ‘At least you can wear shoes.’”

“Reality check is the worst guest at a pity party, isn’t it?” Here Lindsey was feeling sorry for herself while Mom was in surgery, her aunt in a wheelchair and that lady went through life without legs. Oh, yeah, and now Stephen’s son may have broken his arm. Great reality check.

“Yeah, I realized how fortunate I was to be alive. Little by little, those tough times drew me closer to God. It was no walk in the park, mind you, but He softened my heart. I realized others had it worse. I could move my hands and arms, so I put them to use.”

“Your sewing.”

Aunt Claire nodded. “Faith and trust, hon.”

“It’s not easy.”

“Oh, girl, no one said life was easy. Give it time.”

“Time. The healer of all wounds.”

Grandma and Granddad returned to the surgical lounge. They stood in the doorway talking to a silver-haired man. Maybe he was the doctor with news. Lindsey’s heart picked up speed. Until she realized how he was dressed—jeans, a light blue polo shirt and a distressed leather jacket. Not exactly surgical garb.

“Aunt Claire, who’s that guy talking to Grandma and Granddad? He doesn’t look like a doctor.”

“That’s Max, silly.”

“Max who?”

“What do you mean, ‘Max who?’”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

Aunt Claire stared at her as if she had just announced she was going to perform her own lobotomy. “Oh, honey.” She lowered her gaze and twisted the diamond ring on her right hand. “I didn’t realize Grace hadn’t told you about him.”

“Tell me what?” Judging by Aunt Claire’s expression and tone, Lindsey knew—beyond a shadow of doubt—she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.

“Max has been courting your mom for the past six months.”

“Courting?” A dull throb pounded behind Lindsey’s eyes. She massaged her forehead. “She’s been dating him for six months? And never told me? Unbelievable.”

Really, Mom? Not a single “By the way, I met someone.”

“I’m sorry.”