“It’s long distance, I’m afraid. I’d be happy to pay the charges. You could let me know—”
“Nonsense,” Grace countered. “One phone call isn’t going to make a bit of difference to our bill.”
“Thank you.” Still wearing her coat, Mary Jo went over to the wall phone, then remembered that Linc’s number was programmed into her cell. Speed dial made it unnecessary to memorize numbers these days, she thought ruefully.
She’d have to go back to the apartment a second time. Well, there was no help for that, either. “I’ll need to get my cell phone,” she said.
“I can have Cliff get it for you,” Grace offered. “I’m not sure you should be climbing those stairs too often.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Mary Jo assured her. She walked across the yard, grateful the snow had tapered off, and back up the steep flight of stairs, pausing as she had before to inhale deeply and calm her racing heart. Taking another breath, she went in search of her cell.
On the off chance the phone might work in a different location, Mary Jo stood on the Hardings’ porch and tried again. And again she received the same message. No coverage.
Cell phone in hand, she returned to the kitchen.
“I’ll make the call as quickly as I can,” she told Grace, lifting the receiver off the hook.
“You talk as long as you need,” Grace told her. “And here, let me take your coat.”
She found Linc’s contact information in her cell phone’s directory and dialed his number. After a few seconds, the call connected and went straight to voice mail. Linc, it appeared, had decided to turn off his cell. Mary Jo wasn’t sure what to make of that. Maybe he didn’t
“My brother has his cell off,” Mary Jo said with a defeated shrug.
“He might be in a no coverage zone,” Grace explained. “We don’t get good reception here at the ranch, although I do almost everywhere else in Kitsap County. Is it worth trying his house?”
Mary Jo doubted it, but she punched in the numbers. As she’d expected, no answer there, either. Her oldest brother’s deep voice came on, reciting the phone number. Then, in his usual peremptory fashion, he said, “We’re not here. Leave a message.” Mary Jo closed her eyes.
“It’s me,” she said shakily, half afraid Linc would break in and start yelling at her. Grace had stepped out of the kitchen to give her privacy, a courtesy she appreciated.
“I’m in Cedar Cove,” she continued. “I’ll be home sometime Christmas Day after I speak to David’s parents. Probably later in the evening. Please don’t try to find me. I’m with…friends. Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.” With that she replaced the receiver.
She saw that Grace had moved into the dining room, setting the table. “Thank you,” Mary Jo told her.
“You’re very welcome. Is your soup still hot?”
Mary Jo had forgotten about that. “I’ll check.”
“If not, let me know and I’ll reheat it in the microwave.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she murmured. Even if it was stone-cold, she wouldn’t have said so, not after everything Grace had done for her.
But as Mary Jo tried her first spoonful, she realized the temperature was perfect. She finished the entire bowl, then ate all the crackers and drank her tea. As she brought her dishes to the sink, Grace returned to the kitchen. “My daughters will be here at six,” she said, glancing at the clock. “And my daughter-in-law and her family should be back soon. We’re having dinner together and then we’re leaving for the Christmas Eve service at our church.”
“How nice.” Mary Jo had missed attending church. She and her brothers just seemed to stop going after her parents’ funeral. She still went occasionally but hadn’t in quite a while, and her brothers didn’t go at all.
“Would you like to join us?”
The invitation was so genuine that for a moment Mary Jo seriously considered it. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?” Grace pressed. “We’d love to have you.”
“Thank you,” Mary Jo said again, “but I should probably stay quiet and rest, like the EMT suggested.”
Grace nodded. “Yes, you should take his advice, although we’d love it if you’d at least join us for dinner.”
The invitation moved her so much that Mary Jo felt tears spring to her eyes. Not only had Grace and her husband taken her into their home, they wanted to include her in their holiday celebration.
“I can’t believe you’d want me here with your family,” she said, struggling to get the words out.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Grace asked. She seemed astonished by the comment. “You’re our guest.”
“But it’s Christmas and you’ll have your…your family here.” She found it difficult to speak.
“Yes, and they’ll be delighted to meet you.”
“But this isn’t a time for strangers.”
“Now, just a minute,” Grace said. “Don’t you remember the original Christmas story?”
“Of course I do.” Mary Jo had heard it all her life.
