"I brought along something I thought might help,” Paul said, handing the worn book to Madge. "It was Barbara’s, and she read it often. I’d like you to have it, and pray you find the same solace Barbara did in the psalms.”
Madge lovingly ran her gnarled hand over the top of the leather-bound book. "Psalms and Proverbs.”
"The words were a comfort to her, especially on the nights she couldn’t sleep.”
"What a beautiful thing, to bring us your own saintly wife’s book,” Bernard said. He reached inside his back pocket, brought out a wrinkled white handkerchief, and blew his large nose. Paul thought that the older man’s eyes shone with unshed tears.
"I’ll treasure this little book and be sure it’s returned to you when the time comes.”
Paul drank from his mug. He had nothing to offer these godly people, but Barbara had reached out from the grave and lent him a hand when he needed it.
"Now tell us about Joe,” Madge said after taking one small sip of her tea. The mug wobbled as if it were too heavy for her to lift. Bernard gently removed it from her hand and set it aside.
"I came to ask about you,” Paul said, barely able to watch the tender way in which these two cared for each other.
"Joe will be home from college soon now, won’t he?”
"Soon.” Paul was eager for his son’s arrival. Joe’s homecoming was the one bright spot in Paul’s holiday. The two would be together, and it would almost be as it had been in years past when Barbara was alive.
His son was a subject he found easy to discuss. He told the Bartellis about Joe’s classes. As he finished speaking, he realized Madge had fallen asleep, and he dropped his voice.
"Bless you, Reverend,” Bernard said, his face revealing his gratitude. "I swear this is the first time Madge’s slept in nearly two days.”
"How are you holding up?” Paul asked the older man.
Bernard’s gaze skittered away from Paul, and he seemed uncomfortable with the question. "I’m not the one suffering.”
"But in many ways Madge’s cancer is as demanding on you.”
"I don’t mind taking care of her,” he said, and his voice was stiff with pride. "I do a better job than those people in the hospital. At least when I touch her, I do it with love. To those doctors and nurses Madge is just another old woman. To me she’s the woman I fell in love with and married all those years ago.”
"What about your children? Are they coming home for Christmas?”
Bernard set his mug back on the tray, being careful not to make the least bit of sound for fear of disturbing his wife’s precious rest. "No. They’re spread out all over the country, and we don’t want them risking the drive or taking on the expense of a plane trip.” He lowered his head and focused on his folded hands. "The doctors told me they weren’t sure how much longer Madge would last. Maybe six months more, but it could be over as soon as three. The children will want to be here then.”
"Of course.” Paul glanced at his watch. "Perhaps it would be best if I left now.”
Bernard nodded. "I can’t thank you enough for stopping by.”
"I’ll come again,” Paul promised. "Possibly in a couple of days.”
"We’d both appreciate that.” Bernard stood slowly, seeming to have some trouble. "We don’t mean to be a burden to you.”
"You’re never that.” Bernard and Madge had unselfishly volunteered their efforts over the years. Now it was Paul’s turn to return a small portion of all they’d given him and his family.
Paul left, and not wanting to cook himself something for dinner, he stopped off at a fast-food restaurant and ordered something quick, easy, and tasteless.
When he arrived at the house, the first thing he noticed was that the kitchen lights were on. Had be been careless and left them on that morning? He really did need to be more attentive to details.
Letting himself in by the back door, he tossed the grease-smeared white bag on the kitchen table and hung up his sweater.
"Dad?”
Paul’s heart raced with excitement. "Joe? Is that you?
"Dad!” His son rushed into the kitchen and hugged him excitedly. "Dad, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
A lovely blue-eyed young woman stood across the kitchen. Joe crossed to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. "Dad, I’d like you to meet Annie,” he said, smiling brightly at his father. "I’ve asked her to be my wife.”
It shouldn’t have surprised Joy Palmer that Ted Griffin was romantically involved. He was tall, dark, and good-looking, and her heart raced like a stock car every time she laid eyes on him.
She did admit to a certain curiosity about the type of woman he’d date, so she did what she generally did when he came around. She watched and waited and made sure she had an unobstructed view of him.
His girlfriend was sophisticated and beautiful, Joy noted, but she didn’t study the woman long. No need to give herself a bigger complex than the one she already had. Catherine’s grandson was a hunk. It made sense that he’d date a woman who qualified as a beauty queen.
Catherine had been so anxious about this meeting and had wanted to make a good impression. Joy hoped everything had gone well.
Just before dinner, when Joy was preparing to leave for the day, she found Catherine sitting in the library. An unopened book was balanced on her lap.
"Well, Catherine,” Joy said, standing in the doorway, "You’re certainly looking pensive.”