Hidden Blessings Read online

  They got up to greet her, squealing.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you!” Lisa said.

  “It’s been way too long!” Audrey added.

  Maybe it was the head scarf or the slowness of her gait or perhaps they just knew, but their hugs were soft, as if handling a porcelain doll.

  “I’ve missed you guys!” Kendra said, joining them at the table.

  It was weird. The first thing she noticed about people now was hair. And Lisa and Audrey had lots of it, full and beautiful. The next thing Kendra noticed was energy. They had lots of that too.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been here since June and haven’t called anybody,” Lisa said. She seemed to catch herself. “Not that you weren’t preoccupied.”

  “Definitely a little busy,” Kendra said with a smile. “It’s been a whirlwind really. I haven’t had time to do ordinary life things like catch up with friends.”

  “I saw it with my sister,” Audrey said. “Cancer supersedes everything.” She eyed Kendra sympathetically. “Ken, I was so shocked when I heard. I mean, you’re thirty-two.”

  Kendra had figured she would run into someone she knew at the hospital eventually, and it had happened last week when she saw another high school friend. She’d gotten an influx of calls since then.

  “And what’s it called again,” Audrey asked, “the type of breast cancer you have?”

  “Inflammatory breast cancer,” Kendra said.

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Lisa said. “How did you even learn you had it?”

  Kendra explained what she saw in the bathtub and how she researched it online, followed by the doctor visits.

  “So this is a breast cancer where there might not be a lump?” Audrey asked.

  “That’s right,” Kendra said. “There might be redness, a pitted-orange appearance, swelling. And for some reason, it affects a lot of women in their thirties.”

  “Oh my gosh.” Lisa spoke in a hushed tone, as if contemplating it all.

  Audrey was shaking her head. “It’s so hard to believe. And are they really saying . . . it’s terminal?”

  “That’s the nature of the disease, yes,” Kendra said. “Some people live long with it, and by long, that could be five years.”

  “Five years?” Lisa said. “That’s not long at all.”

  “Or it could be two or three,” Kendra said. “Ultimately, it’s in God’s hands.”

  “Oh, Ken, it’s almost too much to fathom,” Lisa said.

  “Ladies, how are we doing this lovely afternoon?”

  The three of them looked at the server, and his question hung in the air for a moment.

  “We’re doing just great,” Lisa said, smiling big, which made them release the heaviness.

  Once they’d placed their orders and the server had left, Kendra said, “I’m determined that this lunch is one thing cancer won’t supersede. Let’s talk about you girls. What have you been up to?” She looked at Lisa. “You’re still at the bank, right?”

  “Yep, two blocks over,” Lisa said. “Still in mortgage lending.”

  “What about Brady?” Kendra asked. “How’s he doing?”

  “Brady’s good,” Lisa said. “Packed on a few pounds since high school, so you probably wouldn’t recognize him.”

  Kendra smiled. “I can’t even picture Brady bigger.”

  “Ah, here you go.” Lisa pulled out her phone and showed a picture of the two of them. “I tell him it just means there’s more to love.”

  “Brings back memories of the high school sweethearts,” Kendra said. “And Brady’s looking stylish in that suit.” She turned to Audrey. “And you, Miss Mom, I’m ready to gush all over again at your news.”

  “I almost feel bad talking about it,” Audrey said.

  “Don’t be,” Kendra said. “You’re pregnant with your first baby, and I want to celebrate that with you. Life is so precious.”

  “It really is,” Audrey said. “We saw the sonogram for the first time two weeks ago, and I cried when I saw his teeny-weeny toes.”

  “I did, too,” Lisa said, “with both kids. I’m such a sentimental nut.”

  Kendra shooed away the sadness. She truly did want to celebrate the gift of life and being a mom, even if she might never experience it.

  The server set their salads before them and freshened their waters. Kendra said a silent prayer as her friends dug in.

  “So, wait”—Lisa lifted Kendra’s hand—“are you still wearing the ring from your ex-fiancé?”

  “I gave Derek his ring back the day we broke up,” Kendra said. They’d talked about him briefly on the phone. “This is a very new ring,” she said, smiling. “This week new.”

  They both gasped. “You’re engaged again?” Lisa said. “No way!”

  “How did that happen?” Audrey asked.

  Kendra tossed the dressing in her spinach salad. “The way it happened was just . . . so unexpected . . . He’s really been there for me since I returned.”

  “Well, who is it?” Lisa asked. “Do we know him?”

  Kendra felt a little something inside. She almost wanted to say no and move on. But it wouldn’t be true.

  “You might remember him,” Kendra said. “His name is Lance Alexander.”

  The brows of both furrowed. “Where would we know him from?”

  “He went to high school with us, briefly.”

  It registered with Lisa first. “Not the guy who got in that fight—”

  “And broke Mr. Magnetti’s nose?” Audrey finished it for her. “And didn’t I hear he was locked up for a while?”

  Lisa looked at Audrey. “Seriously?” She turned to Kendra. “And you’re engaged to him? What’s up with that?”

  “What do you mean, ‘what’s up with that’?”

  “Well, to be honest,” Lisa said, “I wouldn’t think of him as your type. Derek, that was your type—successful attorney. But—”

  “You see where my ‘type’ got me.” Kendra’s arm was shaking, and not from the illness but because she was getting upset. “What you know about Lance took place almost two decades ago. He’s a man of God now. A youth pastor. And he loves me and treats me in a way that Derek isn’t even capable of.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “I didn’t mean to offend. Who knows what decisions I might make if I were in your situation.”

  Kendra paused her fork. “So my engagement to Lance can be excused because of my illness?”

  The server approached. “Ladies, your entrees will be out momentarily. Are you still working on your salads?”

  Kendra sat back. “I’m done, thank you.”

  The other two indicated the same, and the server cleared away their plates, refreshing their waters before leaving. All three seemed to need a sip.

  “Ken, I’m sorry,” Lisa said again, setting her glass down. “What I meant was . . . if I were in your situation, I’m sure I wouldn’t be tied to what I would normally do. And that’s a good thing, obviously. Life sometimes forces us to think outside the box.”

  Kendra had to smile. “That’s actually been the mantra around the house, thinking outside the box.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, you guys, for getting in a huff. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d be surprised and asking questions too. It’s just, I love Lance more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I hadn’t realized I was so protective of him.”

  “Protect your man, girl.” Audrey smiled. “He’s got to be special to stand with you through all of this. And shoot, as I think about it, I’m sure none of us at this table would want to be judged based on our behavior in high school.”

  “Nooo,” the others chorused, back to laughter.

  The server returned with their entrees and began doling them out.

  Kendra thought about Lance, how much he’d been there for her. She could never thank him enough. She slipped her phone from her purse and texted him.

  I’M TAKING YOUR PIC WHEN I GET HOME.

  Seconds later he replied. WHY?
<
br />   She smiled as she typed. YOU’RE MY “GOD’S GOODNESS” OF THE DAY.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  KENDRA AND LANCE WALKED INTO THE MAIN OFFICE OF THE local elementary school, looking like harried parents.

  The front desk secretary acknowledged them. “May I help you?”

  “We’re here to pick up Brooklyn Patterson,” Kendra said. “Her mom said to come here.”

  “Yes, Ms. Patterson did call to let us know you were coming.” The secretary pulled out a piece of paper. “May I see a form of ID, please?”

  They dug out their driver’s licenses and showed them.

  “Very good,” the woman said. “Please have a seat. Brooklyn is still in with the principal.”

  Kendra looked at Lance as they nestled into the hard plastic chairs. “I still can’t believe Brookie got in a fight.”

  “The report was that she started it,” Lance said. “That’s why she’s suspended.”

  “Give me a break. Why would they suspend third graders anyway?”

  Lance gave her a look. “So they don’t grow up to be fighting in high school.”

  The principal’s door opened and Brooklyn trudged out, peeping up at them and then dropping her head back down. Her thick curls were in a loose ponytail with lots of flyaway hairs, and her cute shorts had streaks of dirt on them.

  Behind her, the principal extended her hand. “I’m Mrs. Downes,” she said.

  “I remember you.” Kendra smiled, shaking her hand. “You taught second grade when I was here.”

  “Tell me your name,” Mrs. Downes said.

  “Kendra Woods.”

  “Why, yes,” the principal said, smiling as well. “I remember you and, later, your brother.” It seemed to register. “And I understand your connection to Brooklyn as well.”

  Kendra nodded. “She’s my sister. Her mother asked if we could come get her, since she’s at a conference in Illinois today.”

  “I’ve already discussed Brooklyn’s behavior with her mom.” Mrs. Downes gave the little girl a pointed glance. “So I’ll leave it to her to tell you two about it if she wants.” She looked at Brooklyn again. “I’ll see you on Friday, Brooklyn. Think about what we discussed.”

  Brooklyn stared at her sneakers. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kendra signed her out on a clipboard, and they left the building for the five-minute walk to the Woodses’ home.

  Brooklyn got a little skip in her step. “What’re you doing walking up here, Kendra?”

  Kendra tweaked Brooklyn’s nose. “Coming to get you. I couldn’t believe you were fighting, so I had to come see for myself.”

  Brooklyn kept walking.

  “Well?” Kendra said.

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you gonna tell us what happened?” Kendra asked.

  “Do I have to?”

  “I’d certainly like you to,” Kendra said. “I told Lance I don’t care what they said. You couldn’t have started it.”

  Brooklyn turned, eyes narrowed. “I kicked that Sarah Bowman in the leg, and I’d do it again.”

  “Brooklyn! What did she do?”

  “She said my mom is a whore and I’m a bastard.”

  Kendra gasped, turning to Lance. “And they suspended Brookie?” she whispered.

  “Probably zero tolerance for physical assault,” Lance said.

  “What’s a whore, anyway?” Brooklyn asked.

  “Um . . .” Kendra looked at Lance again. “Sweetie, it’s a bad word that kids shouldn’t use.”

  “I already knew what a bastard was.”

  “What do you think it means, Brooklyn?”

  “It means your daddy doesn’t love you. That’s what Sarah said.”

  “That’s not what it means,” Kendra said, “and there’s no way Sarah would know that anyway, is there?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Brooklyn, kids just say mean things sometimes, and sadly, they usually get it from their parents. As hard as it is, you have to learn to ignore them.”

  Brooklyn turned up their street. “All I know is, if she says it again, I’m kicking her again.”

  Kendra gave Lance a look. She couldn’t half blame her.

  Brooklyn turned up the walkway. “When does my mom get back?”

  “Later this evening,” Kendra said.

  “During Bible study?”

  Kendra shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I’ll ask everybody to pray I don’t get in trouble.”

  Brooklyn wasn’t kidding. After the meal, when everyone had gathered in the living room, she took to the floor with Lance’s permission.

  “Could everyone please pray I don’t get on punishment—”

  “Brooklyn,” Lance said, “you have to take your finger out of your mouth and speak up if you want people to hear you.”

  Brooklyn put her arm down and looked around at the faces. There were fourteen people in the room.

  “Okay.” She shook out her hands and took a breath. And cleared her throat. “Could you please pray I don’t get on punishment . . . for fighting at school . . .” She took another breath. “Because Sarah Bowman called my mom a whore and me a bastard and I kicked her and then she kicked me and we were rolling on the ground and I got suspended.”

  Kendra’s eyes widened along with Lance’s. Those little details had been omitted earlier. The others in the room had wide eyes at the name-calling.

  Brooklyn looked at Lance. “And that’s it . . . I think.”

  Lance glanced around the room. “Would you all mind if we prayed for Brooklyn before we start the study?”

  The adults quickly affirmed his suggestion, and they circled up and joined hands.

  “Lord, we pray Ellen has mercy on Brooklyn,” Trey said, “taking into account the words that started it, words that hurt Brooklyn’s feelings. I pray You would shield Ellen and Brooklyn from words like that. And I pray You would be their peace and their joy.”

  “Lord, we lift up Ellen to You,” Cyd said, “praying You give her wisdom as to how to respond to her daughter in this situation, and how to respond to those who treat them in hurtful ways. I pray, Lord”—she took her time—“that You would use trying situations like this to draw Ellen and Brooklyn to Yourself. May they know how strong Your love is for them.”

  “I don’t usually pray out loud, but . . .” Molly was standing next to Kendra. “Jesus, the name that girl called Ellen probably fit me more, but You saved me anyway. Can You save Ellen too? Oh, and praying no punishment for Brookie.”

  Brooklyn grinned.

  When they were done, Brooklyn sat on the sofa with Kendra for the lesson and fell asleep partway through. She was still curled up there when Ellen arrived, passing others in the entryway as they departed. Ellen looked slightly confused by the hugs she got from a couple of them.

  “Thank you for picking Brooklyn up and taking care of her.” Ellen looked worn, her eyes drained. “I didn’t know I’d be getting back this late.”

  “It was no problem at all,” Kendra said. “As you can see, she’s tuckered out.”

  “I still can’t believe she got suspended for fighting.”

  “Well, you know what instigated it, right?”

  “Mrs. Downes said the girl was name-calling, and Brooklyn hauled off and kicked her.” Ellen ran her hands through her hair. “I’ve told Brooklyn a thousand times, names can’t hurt you . . . just let it roll off.”

  “To be honest, Ellen,” Kendra said, “it would be hard for me to let it roll off if someone called my mom a whore and me a bastard.”

  “That’s . . . that’s what the girl said to Brooklyn?”

  Kendra nodded.

  “Did she mention the girl’s name?”

  “Sarah something.”

  “Bowman?”

  “That’s it.” Kendra said, “You know her?”

  “Her mother works at the university.” Ellen stared vaguely. “So now . . . now this crap is filtering down to the elementary school? Now my daughter has to fight on the play
ground to defend her mother?”

  Kendra didn’t know what to say.

  Brooklyn stirred and, when she glimpsed her mother, sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  Ellen pulled her to a hug. “Honey, let’s get ready to go.”

  “Mom . . .” Brooklyn looked up at her. “Sorry I got suspended.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, after you get some rest,” Ellen said. “And we’re especially going to talk about how to handle people in a proper way when they say rude things.”

  “Okay . . . but am I on punishment? Like, will you tell me I can’t come play over here?”

  Kendra’s heart melted. Was that the punishment Brooklyn most feared?

  Ellen rubbed her back. “I would never put you on that kind of punishment, Brooklyn.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Brooklyn said. “And, Mom?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I hate being a bastard. And I hate my daddy.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  THE AFTERNOON SCENE NEARLY RESEMBLED THE NEW ORLEANS service project Lance had been part of a few years back. People pitching in, repairing, cleaning, painting. Part of his charge from Mr. Woods had been to take care of the house. And when he moved in, he’d seen lots of wear and tear, much of which—Trey now readily admitted—was collateral damage from parties. But Kendra’s care had taken precedence. Now, with Mr. Woods set to return on Saturday, Lance wanted to get it spruced up for him. But he was no handyman, so he’d sounded the call for help.

  “How’s it going, guys?” He passed two friends from Living Word who were patching drywall in the hallway off the entryway. Wall damage there and in the lower level had been the biggest issue.

  “It looked like somebody put a fist through the wall, if you can believe that,” one of them said.

  “Oh, I can believe it,” Lance said.

  The guy backhanded sweat from his brow. “We’ll be done with our part today, but it needs to dry. Then the painters can get to work on it.”

  “Sounds great.” Lance patted them on the back. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.” He turned and watched another guy replacing pieces of cracked tile in the entryway. “Yours too, Mike. You guys are awesome.”