Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [82]
I noticed my Bible still on the coffee table with Sherry’s newspaper markers sticking out. Feeling bad that I had ignored it so far, especially in light of Sherry’s recent loss, I grabbed it and flipped open to a marker and read the sentence underlined in purple. “I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn’t like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid.”
I’d heard this verse before. In fact, I think there had been a time when I had even believed it. “Peace of mind and heart,” I repeated aloud. That did sound wonderful, but impossible, too. Just the same, I copied this verse down on a scrap of paper and taped it to my refrigerator, which now had three messages posted there. The one about not being anxious but praying, from Marcus Palmer, the rehab counselor. And one from Jack in the laundry room. And now one from Sherry. I glanced at Jack’s message again and suddenly felt a chill go through me.
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” It hadn’t made much sense to me before, but now I wondered if it had really been meant for Sherry. Matthew had been one of those sunny children who seemed like a gift. And now he was gone. Gone. And suddenly I realized that Geoffrey might’ve been a jerk to come like this today, but he had been right about one thing. It was time for me to be strong for Sherry. Maybe I couldn’t do this for myself, but I thought I could do it for her. “Give me strength, Lord,” I prayed as I picked up the phone.
I wasn’t really surprised to get their answering machine, and although I hate leaving messages, I braced myself and did the best I could. “Sherry and Rod, I am completely devastated by your news. My heart goes out to you guys, and I am really praying for you. If there is anything—I mean anything—I can do to help out, please feel free to call. Really, I mean it. I may have been a mess yesterday, Sherry, but I am here for you today—”
“Glennis,” came a raspy voice as someone picked up.
“Oh, Sherry,” I cried. “You’re there. Oh, I wish I could just give you a big hug and—”
“Can you come over?” she asked. “Rod had to go take care of some… some things, and I’m alone.”
“Of course.” I looked down at my hideous sweats. “I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life. I leaped in and out of the shower, managed to put on a somewhat decent outfit, and got down to the parking lot in about seven minutes flat. I combed my hair and then, ignoring the pale gray roots already in need of a touch-up, put on some lip gloss at the stoplight. And I was at Sherry’s house in less than twenty minutes. Even so, I felt nervous as I walked up to her door. What could I possibly say to make things better?
I tapped quietly on the door, then let myself in. The drapes were still drawn, probably just as they had been when the Lexingtons got the horrible news early this morning. Even so, they lent an uncharacteristic somber tone to Sherry’s otherwise cheerful country-style home.
“Sherry?” I called tentatively as I tiptoed through their living room. Sherry’s house always had a genuine, lived-in feeling. Not messy by any means, but comfortable, as if the occupants really enjoyed being here. I knew this house by heart and suspected Sherry was in the master bedroom. I went down the hallway, keeping my gaze away from the family photos that lined the wall. I knew it would break me into pieces to look into Matthew’s sweet nine-year-old face smiling from a Little League photo. I called her name again.
“In here.”
I found her on her bed, her face blotchy and eyes swollen. She had on jeans and a sweater, but her hair was uncombed and her face void of makeup. I went straight to her and put my arms around her. “I’m so sorry, Sherry. So, so sorry.”
“I know,” she sobbed.
And then the two of us just held on to each other and cried. I knew there were no words to soften the pain that had sliced