Chapter 21
On Sunday morning, the golden sunlight shone through the sheer curtains hanging over the tall windows and woke Nell. After
going to the palm-leafed bathroom, she reached for her well-worn Bible in her bag next to the bed and slipped back under the
warm covers. As she read from the book of Job, she thought about her church family, the families in her Sunday school class,
who were so special to her, and sweet old Mrs. Conway, with her numerous costume bracelets that jingled like wind chimes in
Nell’s ear when she reached down to hug the petite lady. The bonds Nell had formed within Oglethorpe’s walls were treasures
she held close to her heart.
She missed being with her church family that morning, but that hadn’t always been the case.
As a child, she was forced to attend Sacred Heart Catholic Church every time the doors were open, so when she became an adult, she expressed her independence by sleeping in on Sunday mornings.
When she married Chip and was expected to attend church with him, she rebelled against it because it felt like an obligation once again.
Gradually, though, her mindset began to change.
Church soon became a place that held her accountable and nurtured her faith.
Nell started to realize that while one doesn’t need to be inside a building to be a Christian, attending church with others—imperfect people in need of guidance—certainly helps.
She wished Moira would come to this realization and return to Oglethorpe.
When she was done reading her Bible, Nell dressed in an oversize T-shirt and comfortable, stretchy leggings before grabbing
a small pink and white gift bag and heading downstairs. There she found Erin sitting alone in her Pearl Jam T-shirt and pajama
shorts at the breakfast table. Erin looked up from her cup of coffee and offered a faint smile.
“Good morning, friend,” Nell said while she poured her own mug from the pot that Erin had made. She sat with her at the round
wooden table and looked out the nook’s windows to the fog settling over the confluence of the Ogeechee and the stream. “How’d
you sleep?”
“Not very good, actually,” Erin said. “I don’t know how long I stayed awake. I just kept thinking. I couldn’t turn off my
mind. I felt like I do at night back at home. Restless.”
Nell carefully sipped the scalding liquid and replied, “I didn’t sleep well either.”
“Hearing everyone’s fears last night, I don’t know.” Erin drooped her shoulders beneath the faded T-shirt. “It all left me
unsettled. I wish we’d talked about what we’d written down. Cleared the air, you know?”
“I have been thinking a lot about you, Erin,” Nell said.
“What you talked about reminded me of something Jesus mentioned in the Sermon on the Mount. He said, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,’ and ‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.’ Basically, it’s about how those who realize they need help and stay humble, even when things get tough, are blessed by God and will eventually receive his kingdom.
Even though the poor and meek may not have had much to give Jesus when he walked the earth, that didn’t matter.
He just wanted their hearts, and that is still true today. ”
Erin blew the steam rising from her coffee mug. “I want to believe in the stuff you talk about, Nell—all the stuff you told
me by the pool yesterday and how God has done all these great things in your life—but like I said last night, I don’t want
to get my hopes up and then find out this religion stuff doesn’t work.”
Nell answered, “I don’t like the term religion because it can be associated with negativity and many attitudes that aren’t Christlike.
Instead of using the word religion, I like to say relationship.
That’s what I’ve told you about this weekend—my relationship with Jesus.
Unlike human relationships, Jesus is incapable
of letting us down. He is the one you can truly place your hope in because he embodies hope itself. I forget that sometimes,
but it’s the truth. He is our only source of hope.”
Erin was still a bit unsure, but she promised herself she would dig into this more and see whether what Nell was saying actually
held any truth.
“Let me tell you a little bit of the story about doubting Thomas,” Nell began.
While Nell and Erin refilled their coffee cups and continued talking at the kitchen table, CK and Gemma entered Moira’s room
to find her standing at the balcony door and looking out over the morning fog. She was dressed in black leggings and a white
jacket and neon running shoes, and her hair was in a messy ponytail.
“Happy birthday!” Gemma called out as they walked to Moira. CK chimed in with her birthday greeting. They hugged one another, and Moira apologized for being sweaty.
“I haven’t gone for a run all weekend. Figured I might as well start my fiftieth off right. It was good to get out there this
morning.”
“It’s easy to get up early when you haven’t been puking up pinot all night,” Gemma teased.
“Enough with the vomit jokes,” CK said as she took on her role as Gemma’s adviser. “Either get some new material or be a little
more sensitive.”
“She’ll never let me live this down, CK,” Moira replied, gesturing for her friends to sit in the plaid chairs of the bedroom’s
sitting nook, which overlooked the beautiful backyard and the river in the distance. “So how did you all sleep?”
Gemma shrugged and CK responded, “We both tossed and turned all night.”
“Those letters had us all tossing and turning, yeah?” Moira took a swig from her glass water bottle. Then she sat at the foot
of her bed across from them. Both cats quietly and stealthily appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and nuzzled against her
legs.
Gemma scooted back in her chair and said, “Keep those furry assassins over there.”
“Your letter.” CK looked at Moira. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”
Mo let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, my letter did end on a dramatic note, didn’t it? Very Meg Ryan–esque.” She thought of the last
line she had written, expressing her uncertainty about whether life was worth living. “I can’t deny that some days I wonder
if I’ll ever feel whole again, but I’m going to be okay. I’m not okay yet, but I will be. I promise.”
“You will be okay, Mo,” Gemma assured her.
“But you’ve got to reach out to us when you’re not.
” She pointed to herself and CK. “Please let us know if you’re having a hard time.
I know we’re both hours away, but we’re also just a call or text away.
We have leaned on each other for years, and we can’t stop now.
I’m sure I can come up with some dark humor for whatever you’re facing. ”
“I know,” Moira replied with a smile. “I just don’t want to burden you two.”
CK interjected, “There are no burdens between friends.”
“I’m glad to hear that, because I’ll probably be going through a nasty divorce soon, and I’m sure there will be times when
I call you screaming or crying or threatening to eat an entire lasagna on my own,” Gemma said.
“Why didn’t you call us screaming and crying and making dumb jokes sooner, Gemma?” Moira asked. “What you just told me about
reaching out to you applies to you reaching out to us too, doesn’t it?”
Gemma looked at her hands in her lap and said, “Just like you said, Mo. I didn’t want to bother anyone with it.”
“No more of that from any of us, okay? Iron sharpens iron, right? We have to tell each other what’s going on. We need each
other,” CK said. “And you have us, Mo, but you also need to connect with people here too. That’s why you should think about
going back to church. Let those people love and support you in ways that Gemma and I can’t. And what about Nell? I don’t know
the extent of what is going on between you two, but she’s a gem. You need each other.”
“I know.” Moira nodded in agreement, and then she let out a deep, buried sigh. “It’s been a good weekend.”
“Not for your couch,” Gemma said.
Moira and Celia Kate rolled their eyes and Moira said, “Thank you for coming. I’ve always been able to count on you two. I won’t take that for granted again.”
“You’re just lucky I didn’t have to hang drapes this weekend.” Gemma smirked.
“Oh my goodness.” Moira gasped and covered her face in embarrassment. “Last night while lying in bed I remembered what happened
between me and Tabitha. I guess writing all that other stuff down unlocked my subconscious or something.”
“Oh, what?” Gemma leaned in. “Did you throw up on her old curtains and she had to replace them?”
“In a way, I did,” Moira admitted, removing her hands from her flushed face. “A few months back, she sent me pictures of her
newly redecorated living room, and I had been drinking a bit too much when I saw them. You know what they say: a drunk man’s
words are a sober man’s thoughts.”
“Oh no, Mo. What did you say?” Celia Kate asked, biting her lip.
“I told her the new drapes looked like cigarettes. I mean, they were white on top and had a wide yellow trim at the bottom.
That’s why—that’s why she said she had to hang new ones this weekend.”
Gemma let out a loud, boisterous laugh and said, “I always liked that Tabitha. That’s good.”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of tacky,” CK said while holding out her hand for the cats to come to her, but they refused to leave
Moira’s ankles.
“Celia Kate, does your nose ever bleed from taking the high road all the time?” Gemma rolled her dark eyes.
The trio rose from their seats to go downstairs for breakfast, and Gemma paused mid-step and said, “Oh yeah. One more thing.
That birthday gift we gave you when we arrived on Friday?” She flinched. “It’s a bottle of wine.”
“We didn’t realize . . . well . . .” Celia Kate shrugged awkwardly.
“Just take it back home with y’all. One of Erin’s jobs tomorrow will be to clean out the bar.” The very thought of that made
Moira anxious, but she pushed the uneasy feeling aside and decided to deal with it later.
They left Moira’s room and walked down the staircase together, closely followed by the long-haired cats that playfully pranced
behind them. The house, although large and grand, felt cozy and welcoming, with the promise of a new day ahead.
When they entered the kitchen, they found Nell and Erin sitting at the table in a stream of sunlight, and the rich aroma of
freshly brewed coffee filled the air.
Nell and Erin greeted Moira by singing “Happy Birthday” and stood up from their chairs to give her hugs. Moira then went into
the pantry and grabbed a large white box of Antonio’s homemade breakfast pastries, with “Sunday Morning” scrawled in marker
across the top. She placed the box on the table, along with a jug of orange juice next to the coffee that Erin had already
prepared. They all commented on how Antonio’s chocolate-drizzled biscotti and sugar-dusted bomboloni were too beautiful to
eat.
“Mimosas were on the menu for breakfast this morning. Who am I kidding? Mimosas have been a part of my breakfast every day
for months.” She pinched off a piece of the fluffy Italian donut and placed it in her mouth. As she glanced around, she realized
that her house was stocked with the finest wines and liquors, items she had always considered to be signs of sophistication,
not dependency.
Moira looked at Nell and said, “I want to apologize to you. I have pushed you away and treated you unfairly because I felt like you were judging me. My anger came from my pride and my refusal to accept that I could be wrong. I have been playing the victim—the widow who deserves a drink now and then. That’s how it all started, and it snowballed from there.
You loved me enough to call me out multiple times, Nell.
You didn’t give up on me; you didn’t raise your voice when I raised mine at you, and you even showed up this weekend when you certainly didn’t have to.
You are a precious person, and I’m truly thankful for you. ”
Nell nodded in appreciation at the apology and said, “I got this for you.” She picked up the small pink and white bag that
was sitting near her tennis shoes on the hand-scraped hardwood floor.
“It’s a devotional specifically for widows. The title, Cry Out for the Widow, comes from Isaiah 1:17, where the people are instructed to plead with God on behalf of the widow. I haven’t pleaded with
God on your behalf the way I should have, and I owe you an apology for that.”
“That is a beautiful gift,” Celia Kate remarked. “I know I haven’t pleaded for you the way I should have either, Mo.”
Moira sniffed back tears. “Thank you, ladies, for your prayers. And thank you for this devotional, Nell. It’s exactly what
I need.” She examined the book with a floral cover in her hands.
“So Nell gave you a devotional and we gave you a twenty-five-ounce bottle of temptation. Yikes!” Gemma growled and popped
a bite of the sugary dough into her mouth while the group chuckled.
“At least they got you something, Moira. I want to apologize for coming empty-handed,” Erin said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she fidgeted with
the hem of her T-shirt. She looked down, unable to meet Moira’s eyes, her voice quiet. “I just didn’t have the extra cash
this month to—”
“Stop that,” Moira said, cutting her off. She reached out and placed her hand on top of Erin’s, which rested on the table. “There’s no need for that apology. Being here this weekend was the gift I needed.”
“We’ve talked, we’ve written letters, we’ve been open books, and now we all know each other’s problems, so what do we do about
it? I’m scared of this, and you’re scared of that, but what’s the solution?” Celia Kate asked, her tone vulnerable as she
wrapped her fingers around her warm ceramic mug.
“Pray,” Nell said firmly and with conviction. “Plead. For each other. For ourselves. There’s power when we share our burdens
with each other, but even more so when we share them with our God.”
“Nell, would you mind doing that over us now? Just . . . pray for us?” CK asked while the others silently nodded in agreement.
Without hesitation, they joined hands on top of the round table, fingers interlaced among the clutter of coffee cups, juice
glasses, and sweet Italian pastries. Nell began the prayer with heartfelt thanks for the precious time they were able to spend
together, for the bonds of their friendship, and even for their struggles. “Thank you for our trials, Lord,” she said, her
voice steady and soothing. “For it is through these challenges that we draw closer to each other and to you.”
As Nell continued to call on the God of the universe, she couldn’t stop the tears that fell from her green eyes, a release
of pent-up worries and anxieties. A warmth seemed to wrap around each woman like a comforting blanket. It was supernatural
how the room, which had been filled the night before with shared fears and sadness, was now bursting with a sense of hope,
joy, and peace.