Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The sizzle of pancake batter hitting the buttered griddle was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. It was the sound of being useful.
I hummed “Amazing Grace” under my breath, flipping a golden-brown disc with a practiced flick of my wrist. Nothing in this world settled me like having someone to cook for. Taking care of people was what I did best. It was the thing that made me feel most like myself.
The hardest days of my life had been after Harold had died, when for the first time ever, I’d had no one to care for.
Rattling around that house with only myself to feed, which felt like no reason to live at all.
Then came the widows to brighten up my life, and then Axel to dote on and the dude ranch every summer where I had dozens of hungry campers looking forward to whatever came out of my kitchen, and I got to feel useful again.
“Are those... pancakes I smell?” Sylvie emerged from the sleeping quarters first, tying her robe closed as she approached.
“They sure are, sweetie. Ready in a jiff!”
She slid into the booth, and I put a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.
“You’re a saint, Doris. You know that?”
Marge emerged next, rubbing her eyes. Her hair stood up on one side like a cockatoo’s crest. “What is this magical smell pulling me out of my sleep like a cartoon dog following one of those scent trails?”
I slipped a cup of coffee into her hands, and her eyes sparked to life. “Coffee and pancakes. I couldn’t find any bacon, and I was too scared to try to walk to the store alone in a strange town, so it’s just pancakes. Sorry.”
She took a sip of the coffee and exhaled a long ahhh. “The only thing you need to be sorry for is not living with me full time to make breakfast every morning. Roxie has many wonderful qualities. Cooking is not one of them.”
My heart warmed at the kind words. I loved taking care of people. Lived for it.
And I would take such good care of Alice.
I’d already narrowed down the soups to the ones I thought Alice would like best. A good chicken and wild rice. A French onion if she was feeling up to something rich. The tomato bisque with the fresh basil she’d once complimented when I’d brought it to a Wilder Widows meeting.
And I would knit her a blanket. A proper one, thick and soft, something she could pull around herself on the hard days. I’d already been turning over the colors in my mind—Alice liked jewel tones, deep greens and burgundy, nothing too “girly” like pastels.
And a hat.
I’d knit her a cap too. Just in case she needed chemo and lost her hair.
The thought of Alice bald arrived quietly, without warning, like a cold hand on the back of my neck. Alice, who in all the years I'd known her had never once had a single hair out of place. Alice, who treated her appearance as seriously as other people treated their careers or religion.
The thought of her losing her hair, of the horror I knew she would feel looking in the mirror at the reflection staring back at her…
My gaze drifted out the window at the Kentucky skyline, and I swallowed down a lump the size of a yarn ball.
I straightened up. Slapping on a smile as I turned back to the pancakes and flipped them just in time before they burned.
No crying.
Alice had asked for one thing, and I would give it to her. I would keep it together if it killed me. Which, knowing how terrible I was at keeping things together, it very well might.
Alice appeared last, somehow her hair neat and tidy. She looked at the pancakes and then at me. “Wow. Those look amazing.”
I grinned widely, flipping two onto a plate for her. “Sit down. I’ll get you a coffee too.”
I topped her up and made sure everyone had a full plate before I joined them.
We ate together, quieter in the mornings than when we’d eat lunch or dinner, everyone slowly coming back to life.
Last night we’d stayed out late drinking after karaoke, and I knew they could use a little quiet time while they found their bearings.
“Okay,” I said when they all looked fairly human again. “I have an announcement.”
“If it’s that there’s more coffee, I’m all ears,” Marge said.
I refilled Marge’s coffee and set the pot back. “I’ve found our destination for today. My captain’s wish.”
Three faces looked up.
“I did research last night while you were all asleep, and I found something absolutely incredible. It’s only forty-five minutes from here. We are going to see…”—I paused for effect—“Noah’s Ark!”
A beat of silence.
“The waterpark?” Marge scrunched up her face. “Isn’t that up in Wisconsin? Because I’m not driving north, Doris, I will tell you that right now. We have a schedule to keep if we’re making it to Mardi Gras on time—”
“Not the waterpark! Noah’s actual Ark! Or, well, a full-scale replica built to the exact dimensions in the Bible. It’s over five hundred feet long! There’s a Creation Museum, and we can walk through the history of the biblical world!”
My heart soared with excitement, but the silence that met me was heavy enough to sink a ship. Heck, maybe even Noah’s Ark.
“Church, Doris?” Marge groaned, dropping her fork. “That’s your big captain’s wish? You’re taking us on a Sunday school field trip?”
“It isn’t church!” I defended, my face heating up. “It’s... it’s an architectural marvel! And yes, it’s educational, but you’ll be amazed. I promise!”
“It sounds like church,” Sylvie said gently.
“It is not church!” I pressed my hands flat on the table. “I am the captain, and this is my wish, and we are going. You’ll see. You will be absolutely blown away. I promise.”
“At least it’s not the world’s largest yarn ball.” Alice lifted an eyebrow. “It could be worse.”
“It’s her turn to be captain,” Sylvie said gently, sensing my hurt. “We promised to support the captain’s picks.”
“Fine, we’ll go to church.” Marge held out her empty plate of pancakes. “But only if I get seconds. I’m gonna need my strength.”
My joy erupted through my grin. “Really? You’ll do it?”
Alice held her coffee cup with both hands, taking a long sip, followed by a sigh. “Fine. We’ll do it, Captain.”
I squealed with excitement, hurrying over to flip more pancakes onto Marge’s plate and fill up Alice’s coffee.
After we’d all dressed and gotten ready, we hit the road, Bertha bumping us down the freeway to my wish in Williamstown. The drive was short, but the anticipation in my chest was enormous. After we parked, we strolled through the parking lot, Marge looking around, unimpressed.
“I don’t see any boat, Doris. Is it a model museum? Is it in a shoebox?”
“We have to take a shuttle bus,” I explained. “That’s what it said on the Ark Encounter website.”
We found the crowd of families and church groups waiting at the tour bus stop and gathered in behind them. Then a short bus ride later, with Alice grumbling the whole time about the indignity of public transportation, we rounded the final bend, and the Ark came into view.
My jaw dropped as I stared at the marvel, and even Marge went slack-jawed. It was gargantuan—a wooden titan rising out of the greenery, looking like it had just settled after the flood.
“Oh my God,” Marge breathed. “Holy crap, that thing is massive.”
“Language, Marge,” I whispered, glancing at the people around us, hoping they hadn’t heard, though admittedly, I was thrilled by her awe.
We hopped off the bus, and Marge immediately scurried over to a large map.
Her eyes bugged out, and she turned to face me, wagging her finger while she grinned. “Doris! You sneak! You made us think this was some boring church lecture, but look! There’s ziplining! And a petting zoo!”
“What?” Sylvie squished in beside her. “Oh my gosh! There is fun stuff! This looks so cool!”
Alice pushed up next to them, a snort passing through her nose as she pointed at a picture of a kangaroo in the zoo section. “Oh, look, Marge. A kangaroo. Are you going to finish this stretch of the journey with another black eye?”
“Hey! It was a misunderstanding!” Marge barked. “Me and that kangaroo… we had a connection.”
“A connection of its fist and your eye.” Alice smirked.
“Just stay away from the kangaroo, Marge. Please.” Sylvie patted her on the back. “We promised Roxie we’d bring you back in better shape this time.” Then she pointed to another area on the map. “Look! They have camel rides. I’ve always wanted to see what the view is like from up there.”
“I’m not getting on a smelly camel, but the sun is out,” Alice mused, adjusting her sunglasses.
“I wouldn’t mind sitting in the sun while I watch you ladies ride.
Or, if this goes how I expect, you all will do something stupid to offend the camel, get run away with, and end up in the ER in a body cast you’ll need to wear the rest of the journey. ”
Marge looked at her, then at Sylvie. “Why are you staring at me when you say that? Sylvie’s the one who wants to ride the camel.”
Alice lowered her sunglasses, answering Marge with nothing but one arched eyebrow.
Marge shrugged. “Okay, fine. I wanna ride the camel too. But it’s not going to go badly.”
“Mmmhmm.” Alice slipped her sunglasses back into place.
Marge checked her watch. “Okay, we have about three hours if we want to make our miles today. Let’s hit the ziplines first, then the camels. Then I’m going to go find the zoo and see if this kangaroo and I can be better pals than the last one.”
My heart sank. The tour of the Ark—the actual point of the trip—took at least two hours. If they did the “fun stuff,” they’d miss the tour. They’d miss the chance to experience the glory of the plan.
My secret plan.
“Wait,” I said, my voice small but firm.
They all turned to look at me.
“Um, the tour of the Ark takes at least two hours. Three if we’re being thorough, so I don’t know if we’ll have time for all the…
” I stopped myself before I said “fun stuff,” because touring the Ark would be fun.
Well, at least, it would be for me, and I hoped for them too.
“I’m the captain. And I picked the tour.
We’re going inside the ark first. If we have time, we can do some other stuff. ”
“Doris, come on,” Marge groaned. “It’s a beautiful day! Why go wander around inside a giant wooden box when we can be out here in the fresh air? We’ve been cooped up all winter and now cooped up in the RV.”
“Because it’s important.” My hand instinctively went to the rosary under my shirt.
Ever since Alice had given us her terrible diagnosis, I had been praying my rosary anytime I had a quiet moment.
Like it was my only tether in this terrible storm.
With how often I reached up and touched it anytime I suppressed my tears and fears, it would likely be worn to nothing by the time Alice started treatment.
“Doris.” Alice sighed a long, weary sound. “Cancer is already trying to kill me. Please don’t bore me to death before it gets the chance.”
It was a joke. I knew it was a joke. Alice used humor the way I used prayer—to get through the things that were too big to face directly.
But the word death landed in my chest like a mule kick, and before I could stop it, the tears came. Just a few, fast and hot, before I could blink them away.
Dang it, Doris. No tears!
“Oh, Doris—” Sylvie was beside me immediately, her hand on my arm.
“I’m fine.” I pressed my lips together. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize—” Sylvie spun toward Alice and Marge and gave them a look that could have curdled milk. “You need to apologize. Both of you. You’re both being thoughtless to Doris today.”
Alice pressed her mouth flat, looking briefly at the sky like she needed a moment to summon patience. Then she turned to me. “I’m sorry. That was unkind. I didn’t mean it.”
“I’m sorry,” Marge muttered, looking at her boots. “I didn’t mean it was boring. I just... I like ziplines.”
Alice stepped over and slung an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go see this Ark you’re so excited to show us. We’ll go in the boat. We’ll see the animals two by two. We’ll have fun.”
“You really want to see it?” I sniffled, wiping my eyes with the hem of my cardigan.
“We do,” Sylvie answered for them. “It does sound incredible. Why don’t you lead the way?”
“Okay.” I straightened my Viking helmet, lifting my chin as I sniffled away the last of my tears. “Follow me.”
As I led them toward the Ark, I closed my eyes and prayed.
Please, Lord. Let them see it. Let them feel something. Let them emerge from the Ark as believers.
I wasn’t afraid of death. I knew where I was going. But the thought of Alice—vibrant, stubborn, beautiful Alice—dying...
I closed my eyes against the image.
And dying without being a believer. Dying without being able to step through Heaven’s pearly gates…
It was more than I could bear.
Please, Lord, I whispered as we stepped into the shadows of the Ark. Just fill her up the way you fill me. She’s going to need you in the battle ahead. But until then, I’ll keep praying for the both of us.
I looked at the other widows walking beside her, the other nonbelievers.
I’ll pray hard enough for us all.