ago.”
“That’s a lifetime.”
“Not in our family,” Andrea murmured. She opened her eyes again. She was only a year away from turning fifty-eight herself. “Neither Mother nor Daddy celebrated their fifty-eighth birthdays, not to mention Kathleen or Sandra.” Kathleen had died a week shy of her thirty-fifth birthday. Sandra had been fifty-one.
Andrea cleared her throat. “As short as each of their lives were, I think they all understood something that has eluded Miss Huxbaugh all these years.”
Madge cocked her head. “Such as?”
“They knew how to forgive others, as well as themselves.” Andrea recalled the sermon their pastor had given a few weeks back. “Reverend Staggart said forgiveness stems from faith and the blessings we get from forgiving others is like a warm shawl. It wraps around our hearts to heal the hurts, ease the pain of disappointment and douse the flames of anger.”
A silence rested between them. Then Madge finally spoke. “Speaking of shawls, that reminds me of something I need to talk to you about, but…that can wait.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Can you forgive me for telling Jenny about your cancer? I didn’t mean to interfere or break your confidence, but I just…I just needed to see someone and talk. Russell is still away.…”
Andrea reached over and gave one of Madge’s earrings a gentle tug. “You’re already forgiven. And I have a present for you to prove it.”
Sniffling, Madge looked up, her eyes shining with anticipation. “You do? You have a present for me?”
Andrea leaned to one side and retrieved the soggy package from her skirt pocket. She handed Madge the gift, but did not let go. “Before you open it, you have to make me two promises.”
Madge hesitated. “What kind of promises?”
“First, don’t get offended. Second, you have to promise you’ll wear it every time you’re supposed to take me for my treatments.”
Madge rolled her eyes. “I have a watch, Andrea. I have several, as a matter of fact. Just because I was late one time, one time, taking Sandra for her chemo doesn’t mean I’ll be late again.” She rotated her wrist, and the sunlight danced on the amethysts and diamonds surrounding her gold watch. “This has a brand-new battery and it works perfectly fine.”
Andrea let go of the present. “Not like this one. Go ahead. Open it.”
Madge peeled back the water-soaked wrapping and opened the box. Her eyes widened. “It’s wild! Wherever did you find one the exact color of my convertible?”
“It was easier than you might think.” Chuckling, Andrea pointed to one of the silver buttons on the side of the watch. “Push that one. It’s an alarm. On the days I have to go for chemo, you have to promise me you’ll set it. When it goes off, you’re not allowed to turn it off until you get to my house to pick me up. That way you’ll be on time.”
“I promise.” Madge pushed the button, and the tune began to play.
Andrea held her breath, hoping Madge would appreciate the melody. If not, well, forgiveness was not a one-way street.
Madge’s eyes widened. Her lips curled into a smile that stretched to a grin. When Jenny and the girls returned, Madge gave them a demonstration and they all joined in to sing along as they marched to the picnic table for dinner. “I’m late. I’m late. For a very important date. No time to say hello. Goodbye! I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.”
Forgiveness reigned. Joy abounded.
Alleluia!
Chapter Seven
T he following day, running late after a settlement that nearly did not happen, Andrea waited for the light, crossed the avenue and hurried to meet Madge for lunch. If someday she were to write a book about the ups and downs of real estate, today’s settlement would have to be in the first chapter.
Both buyer and seller had arrived on time at the title company where Andrea and the other principals were waiting in the conference room, ready to proceed, but only the buyer’s wife had come inside. In near panic, she told them her husband was still in their car, suffering from a full-blown panic attack. It had taken Andrea and the couple’s attorney over an hour to calm the man and convince him that buying a home, even for the first time, was eventful, but not threatening. Though the settlement had proceeded smoothly from that point on, Andrea was way behind schedule. If her luck held, Madge would be running late, too.
The moment she entered The Diner and saw Madge in the corner booth, Andrea knew that luck had abandoned her. Madge had already ordered; lunch was on the table. Andrea braced herself for a well-deserved reprimand and slid into the seat across from her sister. “I’m sorry. You wouldn’t believe why I got delayed. I tried to call you. How come your cell phone wasn’t on?”
Grinning, Madge held up her arm, rotated her wrist and flashed her new purple wristwatch. “I had my alarm set so I wouldn’t be late for our lunch date, and I turned off my cell phone so I wouldn’t get distracted. Maybe I should get a watch for you.”
Andrea grimaced.
“I ordered the grilled chicken and walnut salad with low-fat raspberry vinaigrette dressing on the side for you, too,” Madge went on.
Andrea glanced down at her lunch. So much for the BLT, fries and coleslaw she had intended to order, despite the doctor’s advice about the advantages of a low-fat diet. She managed a smile before she squeezed three slices of lemon into her tea and added half an envelope of sweetener. She took one sip, paused and glared over the rim of her glass at her sister.
“It’s caffeine-free. You’ll get a taste for it. It’s better for you, so don’t argue,” Madge said righteously.
Andrea sighed, set down the tea and flagged the closest waitress, who happened to be Caroline, and handed over the glass of tea. “Would you mind terribly…?”
“One regular iced tea it is,” Caroline said, and winked at Madge. “I warned you she’d taste the difference.” She glanced at Andrea. “I’ll bring you a double. Since you’re such a great fan of salads, I’ll bring you a take-home container, too. You should box up half the salad before you add any dressing. Stays fresher, and it won’t get soggy,” she instructed before she left.
“You should eat the whole thing now,” Madge suggested as she cut the chicken strips in her salad into bite-size pieces. “You probably didn’t bother to fix anything for breakfast, and I doubt you’ll take the time to make anything substantial for dinner. The least you can do is eat healthy and well at lunch. Honestly—”
“Since when did you get appointed my personal dietician?” Andrea interrupted, shaking her head and drizzling dressing on a corner of her salad. “You can drive me to the doctor’s office. You can handle my insurance and tend my gardens. But my diet is off-limits.”
Madge laid down her fork. “Somebody has to watch out for you. Eating right is…well, it’s part of recovery. Sandra let me—”
Andrea cut off her words by laying her hand on top of Madge’s. “I know she did. I know you did everything to help Sandra. In fact, you probably helped her more than the rest of us combined.”
Nodding,
