eyes to hold back the tears. In the last several months he has tried to be strong for Joan and his family in every way, but fear spreads across his chest.
Tears fall over his face and he swipes them away. “Don’t!” he says to himself. He picks up one of the pieces of wood for the tabletop and examines it. He needs to glue these pieces together. Another tear falls, and John brushes his shoulder against his cheek. “Stop it!” he yells. “Stop!” He throws the tape measure, pencils, and clamps from atop the workbench across the room and slides to the floor. “I’m trying to believe,” he whispers. “She’s my world. I’ve loved only her. She’s the only one.” A knock at the door startles him, and John hurries to his feet. Who would knock? Joan, Alice, or the kids would march right in. He uses the tail of his shirt to wipe his face and hears another knock. He walks to the door and opens it to a man he’s never seen before.
“John?” The man is in his late sixties or early seventies, with thinning brownish gray hair and glasses. “When I knocked on your front door, your mother-in-law told me you were out here. I’m Ed Grassle from church. I was told about your wife and wondered if I could come visit with you. Is that okay?”
John feels a lump in his throat and nods. “Sure. Come on in.” He leads Ed into the workshop and points at a metal stool. “You’re welcome to sit there.”
“Maybe in a minute,” Ed says, noticing the pieces of wood on the workbench. “Are you making a table? Beautiful wood. Black walnut.”
John nods. “Yeah. I started it a few months ago. You know it’s black walnut?”
Ed picks up one of the table legs. “I’ve been dabbling for years. This is beautiful work. You’re very talented.” John smiles. Ed holds the leg higher, examining it.
“I don’t know about that. I spend a lot of time just standing here and staring at the wood, it seems.”
Ed smiles. “Then you’re a craftsman through and through!” He holds the table leg closer to him and runs his hand up and down it. “Have you ever thought about a piece of wood? Or even a tree, for that matter?”
John looks at him, surprised. “Yeah, I have!”
“Amazing, right? No lab can come up with a tree.”
“Or a seed,” John adds.
“Or a seed,” Ed says, agreeing. He sets the table leg down and looks at John. “There’s a lot we can’t do, isn’t there.” He doesn’t say it as a question, but rather as more of a statement. Ed knows his place in the universe. “John, when I heard about your wife, I wanted you to know that you’re not alone.” John bites the inside of his mouth, nodding. “I know you must be awfully scared right now and wondering about what will happen.” A tear falls down John’s cheek, and he brushes it away. There are people who make you feel instantly at ease and immediately cared for because their words, the way they slip their hands into their pockets, even the way they walk let you know that the only place they want to be right now is with you. This is Ed to John. “You don’t know me, but I’ll do anything for you and your family. My wife and I both will. We don’t want you or your family to feel alone, John.” The fear, pain, hurt, stress, and anxiety rush to John’s chest, and he wraps his arms around Ed. Ed claps him on the back just like the good father that John imagines him to be, and he stands quietly, letting John cry.
November 2012
Gloria’s house is decorated with a mixture of Christmas swags, bulbs, stars, and Nativity sets, with pink, yellow, blue, and green balloons and streamers strung across the ceiling and doorways. Gloria looks around her living room and sighs. “If they came here today, House Beautiful would be so confused that they’d never feature me in their magazine.”
“I don’t think that would be the only reason,” Miriam says before clapping her hands together. “All right! Put these cards over there on the gift table. They’re for each person to write down some baby advice.” Gloria reaches for a pen from the cup on the table and writes: Don’t listen to Miriam before folding it and setting it inside the basket. “What did you write, Gloria?” Miriam says, her voice dripping