Of life.
Pastor Schmitz visited that afternoon. "We don't know why we suffer," he told Allison and Marshall gently. "Even Jesus said,'Father, take this cup from Me.' Suffering, and being with others who are suffering, is part of what it means to be human."
Allison nodded, but the word suffering seemed inadequate to describe the aching void inside her.
That evening Marshall brought her a bowl of potato and leek soup he had spent all afternoon simmering. She managed to swallow one spoonful, two, but then her throat closed, and she set the tray aside. He took it without comment and was back twenty minutes later. "There's someone here to see you," he said.
It was not even 6 p. M., but completely dark outside. How Allison longed for spring! She shook her head. "Marshall, I don't feel up to seeing anyone." Her physical strength was coming back, but her emotions were numb.
"I think you might make an exception." Before she could protest again, he opened the door a little wider. "Go on," he urged someone. "It's okay. Um, estd bien." Then a tiny figure slipped through.
Estella. Something in Allison cracked open at the sight of her grin.
A young Hispanic woman who shared the same plump cheeks and dark eyes as Estella stood in the doorway, smiling shyly. "Gracias," she said. "Thank you for helping my daughter."
Estella toddled over to Allison. One soft hand patted her cheek. "Hola," she said in a high, piping voice.
Looking at Estella's perfection, Allison felt the tears come again. But this time, they left her feeling cleansed.
The next day, Allison boxed up the few baby things she had allowed herself to buy. A tan, soft, plush rattle shaped like Paddington Bear. A pair of Robeez booties made of red corduroy. She had bought a couple of maternity suits, modeling them with the pregnancy-shaped pillow the shop offered, and those, too, went into the box. Pushing away the memory of how she had grinned with delight and amazement at the dressing room mirror, Allison carried the box down to the basement. It was surprisingly light.
She spent the afternoon paging through her Bible, finally finding comfort in the book of Lamentations:
"I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is. So I say,'My splendor is gone and all that I had hoped from the LORD:
I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD'S great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail."
As the afternoon drew to a close, she started when the doorbell rang. Allison opened the door to find Cassidy and Nicole on her front step. They hugged her, a little awkwardly, and then Cassidy ran back to the car and returned with a basket of food from Elephants Delicatessen. There was a still-warm roasted chicken, green grapes, Italian cheese, salami, almonds, olives, and a fresh-baked baguette. And, of course, a huge chocolate brownie.
"We figured if you couldn't come out to dinner, dinner should come to you," Cassidy said, grinning.
Tears sprang to Allison's eyes. It seemed like anything and everything could make her cry. But it was better than being numb. "Oh, you guys, this is so thoughtful."
"I can't take any credit," Nicole said. "It was all Cass's idea."
Allison didn't let her expression change, but she thought it was the first time she had heard Nicole call Cassidy by her nickname. She sent up a quick prayer of thanks. Things were shifting among the three women. Cassidy was facing her problems, Nicole seemed to be opening up a sliver, and Allison had allowed her friends to see that she, too, was vulnerable. Even gathering in her home was a new step.
When Marshall came home twenty minutes later, there were hugs all around. Then he said, "I'm going to catch up on some work in my office." He put a little bit of everything from the basket--except for the brownie, which he knew was off-limits--on a plate.
Allison shot him a grateful smile. She waited until the door to his office was closed before she said to Cassidy,"I'm not the only one who's been going through things. How's it going getting off the Somulex?"
Cassidy bit her lip. "It's been hard. First I had to tell my primary doctor that I had been going to two other doctors. He called that `drug-seeking behavior,' which made me kind of angry until I realized he was right. Anyway, he's slowly tapering me off. I won't lie to you. I miss the way I used to sleep back when I first took one pill and it would just knock me out for the night. Now when I try to sleep, my skin itches and my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest.
"But the alternative? I'm sure that would have been worse. So thank you, guys. This is going to sound all sappy and everything, but lately I've been realizing I can always count on you." She turned to Nicole. "Nicole even took me to my first couple of meetings."