7. Valerie

The words blurred in front of her eyes, so Valerie adjusted her reading glasses and brought the Bible closer to her face, determined to read and make sense and find…whatever it was she was supposed to find in this book.

Peace. Comfort. Answers. Hope, she supposed. Something a woman in her situation so desperately needed.

Which at this hour would include coffee, but she didn't want to go downstairs until Chase was gone, and she could still hear Raina and her friend talking and laughing in the kitchen.

She cleared her throat to read out loud, which she'd heard was supposed to make this whole business sink in.

"‘He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me.'" She closed her eyes and listened to the echo of the words.

What did that mean? God rescued someone—whoever wrote Psalm 18, she imagined—but was she supposed to think about that guy or herself? Would God rescue her from her powerful enemy? The one that was going kill her…in less than six months.

Not unless the doctor called and said, "Whoops. We made a mistake. You're going to be fine."

If that happened, she'd believe this book.

"But I do believe it," she said quickly, looking up as if God was listening to her. And, if she believed the book, He was listening to her. Honestly, sometimes this whole religion thing was a vicious cycle.

"It's just hard," she added in a whisper. "Hard to believe You can rescue me, but if You can't, I don't want to go to the…other place."

So, she better start reading.

Looking at the page, she tried to concentrate. But, truth be told, she liked the New Testament so much more. She'd read a lot of that part of the Bible since the diagnosis, and she found it to be a decent story with good characters.

She'd even said the words out loud that Jesus was her savior, and that was what she had to do, right? Say them and believe them and then she'd go to heaven…in less than six months.

She didn't know yet, but she didn't have a whole lot of time to figure it out. And she'd decided when she moved that she should read this whole book, including the Old Testament, which, if she was being real, was dull as dirt.

Except for the Psalms, which she'd been trying to read every single day. But after she finished them, she'd have to read the whole dang thing—

Whoops. Was dang bad? She looked up again at the ceiling in the tiny bedroom. "Really sorry," she whispered.

The only response was more laughter from the kitchen, and a soft squawk that sounded more like Lily than Charlie. Val made her own little whimper of frustration, because she wanted to go down there, get coffee, breakfast, and baby time, but she didn't want to intrude.

And that's what she was—a big, fat intruder.

At least she wasn't being booted out. Had Raina meant it when she said Val could move down to that much bigger room? She hoped so, but it didn't matter. She'd stay in this tiny bedroom and sleep on a couch and quietly die here if she had to.

And, apparently, she had to.

Sighing, she looked back down at the page in front of her, scanning the words to find her place.

The Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.

The pastor she'd met with in New Jersey had told her to look at two or three words and pray on them.

Okay. Spacious place. Rescue. Delight.

"Well, that's a complete waste of time," she muttered. God wasn't going to rescue Val or put her in a spacious place, because she'd never once delighted Him. She barely knew He existed, other than to use His name when she was mad about something. She didn't care about God until she heard those three ugly words…

Inoperable brain tumor.

She slammed the book shut in anger, hoping that wasn't a sin—but not really caring at that moment—and placed it on the desk that served as an end table in this, the most spare of spare rooms.

She'd gone running to God with her problems, but evidently He couldn't operate any more than the surgeons could.

She'd tried to tell her kids but before she could get the words out, she sensed Eileen would get mad at her for throwing yet another problem into her busy, busy life. And Jack? How could she tell him? He couldn't rush her out the door fast enough, with his little floozy kicking it shut on Val's way out.

Not literally, but she could sense just how much they didn't want Val around, so why would she bother slathering on some guilt with the news that she was going to kick the proverbial bucket…in less than six months.

She had to stop thinking about it!

But how could she? She didn't have anyone to talk to about it because no one knew.

Including Raina, who probably would care even less than Val's actual kids. And who could blame her?

Val had never been nice to her daughter-in-law in the past, making no bones of the fact that it was Raina's ambition and work ethic that cost her three pregnancies. But of all the "relatives" in her life, who was the one who said she could stay?

Raina.

How was that for irony?

"Oh, you're awake, Val. Good morning."

Val could see Raina walking toward her down the hall, looking happy and not at all tired, even though she'd heard her up with the babies at least three times last night. She wasn't the well-put-together woman who'd been married to Jack and running their business, but she was attractive.

She still had a few pounds to lose to get back to the svelte woman she'd been, and she didn't seem to wear makeup anymore, but her dark hair was shiny and her blue eyes bright.

In some ways, even sleep-deprived and raising twin babies, Raina looked better than Jack these days.

"Are you packed and ready to move?" Raina asked, leaning against the door jamb. "Chase is completely out of the guest room, and we've got clean sheets, fresh towels, and a view that will…well…" She peered past Val to the window that faced the driveway. "It beats the heck out of this one."

"I don't have a lot of stuff," Val said, pushing up from the sofa bed, a little embarrassed that she hadn't made it yet. "Just my suitcase, which I haven't even unpacked."

"Perfect. Just close it up and Chase will bring it down for you. His hotel is going to deliver a full-size bed today." She frowned and looked around the room. "It'll be tight, but he said he doesn't care."

"Will he even sleep in it?" Val asked, and almost immediately regretted the question. Mostly because Raina looked more surprised than secretive.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "He sleeps here whenever he isn't traveling."

In the past, Val would have made a snide remark that implied she wasn't born yesterday, but she slid her gaze to that leatherbound book she'd just been reading. A snide remark wouldn't delight anybody.

"Oh, okay," she said instead.

"We're just friends," Raina added.

"So you've said." Val turned to gather up a few things, sorry the conversation had taken this turn. Raina had been nothing but nice and she deserved that in return. "I'll just take some things down now and come back for the rest."

With a quick smile, she scooped up the Bible so Raina didn't notice it and think it was strange, then grabbed her handbag and glasses. "I'm going to get a coffee."

"Wonderful. I'm going to strip these sheets."

"Oh, Raina, don't do that—"

"It's fine, Val. Have your coffee and feel free to check out the guest room. You're going to love it."

She sighed, regarding her former daughter-in-law, suddenly wondering what demon got ahold of Jack to make him cheat on this woman and leave her—and twin babies.

She should say something. She should do something that would…delight that Lord who could rescue her.

"You've been very kind, Raina," she said stiffly, the words catching in her throat.

"Of course, Val. No problem." She picked up a pillow and started tugging it out of the case. "Chase is the one giving up space and a view, so feel free to thank him."

"But you're the one opening your home," Val said. "And I…" She cleared her throat, feeling the warm rush of blood to her cheeks. "I haven't always been so nice to you, have I?"

"Val." Raina looked over the pillow at her, her blue eyes softening. "All in the past," she said. "I'm glad you get to spend some time with your grandbabies. Be careful, or Chase will have them calling you Nonna."

She didn't know how to react to that, taken aback by the forgive-and-forget attitude. It was like Raina had read that book more than Val had.

"Well, thank you," she repeated as she stepped out. "I'm very grateful."

Proud of her very slight change for the better, she navigated the stairs and turned the corner into a sunny kitchen where two infant carrier seats were on the table, and a man she barely knew stood sentry over them.

"Good morning," she said.

"Oh, hey, Val. Come see your grandbabies," he said, gesturing her over. "Lily is downright spunky today, and Charlie is sleepy. It's like they switched personalities overnight. Good thing they're not identical or I'd worry we switched babies, too."

She stood next to him and gazed at their wee bodies and faces, smiling, because…how could you look at them and do anything else?

"Not identical, but both beautiful," she said on a sigh.

"You know what else is beautiful?" he asked. "The view from your new room. Come on, I'll do the hand-off."

She followed him, feeling like it was time to be nice again, as much as that never really came naturally to her.

"This is really kind of you, Chase," she said. "I appreciate you moving."

"Not a problem," he assured her. "I work all day, right on the water, and I see enough of this ocean. Now you can enjoy it."

He swept into the sizeable bedroom and walked to the wall of sliding glass doors, flipping the blinds to show a stunning vista of sand, water, and sky.

"Oh, my. That's…wow." She smiled the same way she did looking at the babies. Then she turned, taking in the king-size bed, a writing desk and dresser, and the private ensuite bathroom. "This is wonderful."

"Great. Enjoy it. Oh, I hear a baby. 'Scuse me."

As he walked out, she pressed the Bible she held to her chest, trying to take in the beauty of the room where she would live…and die in less than six months.

But she didn't want to think about that now. She wanted to bask in the glow of her lovely interactions, proud that she hadn't made one snippy comment.

As she set the book on the dresser, she flipped it open to the page where the ribbon kept her place. Immediately, her eyes went to the line she'd read earlier.

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.

Well, what do you know? He did bring her to a spacious place.

"Val?" Raina stood in the doorway, holding something out. "You missed a call, and I thought it might be important."

Val walked to her and took the cell phone. "Thank you, Raina. I forgot…" She glanced at the screen and her voice trailed off.

Dr. Phillip Nystrom, Neurosurgery

"Oh, yes." She looked up and saw curiosity in Raina's expression and right then and there…she almost told her.

But she'd made a vow she wouldn't tell anyone until she had to. And if she hadn't told her own kids, she certainly wasn't going to confide in the woman her son divorced.

"I'll give you some privacy so you can return the call," Raina said when Val didn't add any kind of explanation. Well, why would she? Raina shouldn't be looking at Val's phone, anyway.

"Okay," she said with a tight smile. "Thanks."

Raina stepped out and closed the door, leaving Val to stare at the phone and wonder why this neurosurgeon who'd already told her there was nothing that could be done would call her.

Wait a second! Maybe…she really had delighted Him.

She sat down on the love seat by the sliders and stared at the phone, forgetting the coffee, the Bible, the beautiful surroundings. All she could do was…hope.

But twenty minutes later, she finally spoke to someone in Dr. Nystrom's office. He had no news, nothing changed, no miracles had occurred. They just needed a forwarding address for their files, since the last bill had come back as undeliverable.

Val's hope was smashed again, leaving her to wander around her spacious place, where she would lay her head one night and never wake up…in less than six months.