The Christmas Table (Christmas Hope #10) - Donna VanLiere Page 0,38

a sense of fun when they’re Robert and Kate’s age. When she gets home, she takes off the costume and makeup and jumps in the car with Travis for the drive to Drake County. On arriving at what she hopes is Bud’s home, Lauren rings the doorbell. There is no answer. She looks at the address at the side of the door again, making sure they are at the right place. She rings the doorbell again and waits. “I should have asked Robert if there was a phone number for Bud.”

Travis tries to peer through the small window at the top of the door to see if he can spot anyone inside. Lauren looks at the door that isn’t opening. “I guess I should leave a note?” He nods and she walks to the car for some paper. “All I have is a napkin!”

“It works,” Travis says.

She thinks for a moment and writes, Dear Bud, I hope you are the farmer who used to sell milk. I am trying to track someone down who used to be a customer of yours, and I’m hoping you can help. She writes her phone number and her name and opens the storm door, letting it close against the note, leaving half of it sticking out. “Now the waiting game begins,” she says.

“That’s a horrible game,” Travis says, walking to the car. “In the same category as the quiet game. Moms must have made up both those games.”

She glares at him as she opens the passenger-side door. “I have a great idea, why don’t you play the quiet game on the drive home?”

“See!” Travis says, sliding behind the wheel. “It’s always the mom who suggests these awful games.” Lauren giggles as he turns around in the driveway and heads for home.

TWENTY-TWO

November 1972

John tries to concentrate on making the third table leg. He never dreamed this project would take so long but knows that if he had more time in the shop, it would be nearly complete by now. He pushes the wood through the table saw and can hear the doctor’s words in his head over the noise of the saw. “A setback.” That’s what Dr. Levy said a few days ago. Joan thought it was a virus at first. Her mom had been sick and there was word, as they’re often is, that there was “something going around.” But according to the doctor, this had nothing to do with any virus. “We found more cancer,” Dr. Levy said. “You’ll need another surgery to remove more of the lung.” What little air there was in Joan’s lung exhaled in despair. “I know this is a tremendous setback, Joan, but we need to remove it.” Joan’s eyes filled with tears. Not another surgery. Not this close to Thanksgiving and Christmas. John grabbed her hand and looked at the doctor. “But I can’t perform the surgery until you get your weight up.” Joan glanced up at him. “You need to eat high-calorie, high-protein meals. Think cream, butter, steak, chicken, turkey, eggs, half-and-half, sour cream, cheese, olive oil,” he said. “Do you cook?”

Joan tried to smile. “I’ve been learning, but all this has…”

“She does cook,” John said. “She’s a great cook.”

“Good. Eat lots of veggies, especially tomatoes, carrots, onions, and garlic,” Dr. Levy said. “Eat plenty of apples. Put some blueberries and walnuts on yogurt.”

Joan’s face looked sick. “The very thought of all those…”

Dr. Levy nodded in understanding. “I know. But you need to gain weight.”

“How much?” Joan asked.

“At least eight pounds. More would be best.”

“We’ll stop by the grocery on the way home,” John said, concerned.

Joan looked at him. “I am eating, Dr. Levy. It just seems that no matter what I eat, it doesn’t stick to me.”

Dr. Levy leaned against his desk. “The cancer cells are fighting hard against you, Joan. You need to fight against them harder. Can you do it?”

“She’s the Wrecking Ball,” John said, looking at the doctor and trying to make Joan smile.

“She’s what?”

“The Wrecking Ball, Champion of 1972. She will jab and punch and kick cancer’s butt!”

“Kicking’s against the rules,” Joan said, correcting him.

“If you’re fighting cancer,” Dr. Levy said, playing along, “you use whatever method of defense you have.”

For a reason he can’t describe, John shuts off the saw, turns off the lights in the shop, and walks back inside the house. He senses that something isn’t right and enters the kitchen from the garage. The lights are off, the kitchen is dark, and he finds Joan lying on