Abide With Me (20 page)

She closed the door behind her. If she and Doris were going to really make a good team, then she needed to be totally frank about her medical condition and the time off she would be taking for her checkups and monthly treatments. She did not want to broadcast the news, only share it with someone whose help she might need and who had earned her trust.

W
ith Doris handling the office, Andrea walked the tray back to The Diner, which was almost empty at midafternoon. She covered a yawn as she walked. After little sleep last night and a hectic morning, she had every intention to get in a good nap this afternoon. She had even thought about skipping the meeting for the Shawl Ministry. She still hadn’t mastered knitting, but Jane Huxbaugh depended on her for a ride home so she had little choice and settled on getting to bed early tonight, very early.

When she got to The Diner, Caroline was at the cash register. She took the tray but refused to take Andrea’s money for the beverages. “My treat. I insist. Consider it a celebration gift,” she teased with a twinkle in her eye.

Andrea groaned. If Caroline said one word about cele
brating Andrea’s first date in years, she just might cry. She was that tired.

Caroline took one look at Andrea and laughed. “Don’t get all defensive. We’re celebrating the fact that you crossed the avenue safely this time. The last time you were here, you got run over by a skateboarder, remember?”

“Only too well. Yes, I suppose I should celebrate that,” she admitted with relief.

“You thought I was going to mention your date, didn’t you?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“Well, I won’t say a word about it, but I did hear a lot. I guess you’re not interested in knowing what I heard, though. Too bad.”

Andrea let out a sigh. “Go ahead. After seeing half the town last night while I was waiting for Bill to pick up his orders, I had a strong suspicion we’d become the hot topic of conversation today.”

“Actually, I think you’re ahead. I’d say it’s about sixty-forty right now. Maybe a little better than that.”

Andrea lowered her voice. “Sixty-forty for what?”

“A second date, of course. Now I’m a God-fearing, churchgoing woman, like you are. I don’t bet, and I don’t gamble, even if some folks at the senior center do. But if I were a gambling woman and I wanted to add a few dollars to the pot they’ve got started, I’d put my money on you. That man doesn’t stand a chance…not if you decide to set your cap for him.”

“We had a date. One date. Let’s let it go at that,” Andrea countered. The very idea that some of the seniors had started a pool and were gambling on whether or not An
drea would have a second date with Bill did not sit well at all, especially knowing she already had that second date set for Monday night. She changed the subject. “Doris said you wanted to tell me something about the meeting for the Shawl Ministry this afternoon?”

“Right. You usually take Miss Huxbaugh home, don’t you?”

“Usually. Why?”

Caroline looked around as if making sure no one could overhear and leaned forward over the counter. “She didn’t want anyone to know, but she had her doctor call the thrift shop where she volunteers. Of course, by now, most everyone knows, but I don’t want to be the one who gets blamed for spreading the news, but for all it’s worth, I thought you should know so you wouldn’t be caught by surprise at the meeting this afternoon.” She paused and looked around again before continuing. “She’s had a stroke. They transferred her to the coronary care unit last night. Word is she won’t be there very long, either. She’s had a bad heart for years, and the stroke only made matters worse. I thought maybe you’d want to visit her while there’s still time. She’s got no family and what friends she did have…She won’t even let the pastor come. She made the doctor call him and tell him.”

“I understand,” Andrea whispered. She hardly considered Jane Huxbaugh to be a friend, and she doubted Miss Huxbaugh felt otherwise. Even so, Andrea did not want anyone to spend their last days on this earth alone, even someone as thoroughly miserable as Miss Huxbaugh had been for the past fifty years.

“Thanks for telling me. Do you know what hospital she’s in?”

“Tilton Medical Center.”

Andrea nodded.

“Just don’t tell her I told you,” Caroline requested. “If she surprises everyone and does recover, I don’t want her charging in her and yelling at me. It upsets the customers.”

“No, I’ll make sure I don’t. Thanks again,” Andrea whispered. She returned to her office and replayed her conversation with Caroline in her mind. She did not blame Caroline or anyone else for being afraid of Jane Huxbaugh. The woman had had one nasty attitude for years. She had been abrupt with Andrea on more than one occasion, but never outright mean.

Andrea felt no obligation as either the woman’s real estate agent or as her friend, which she was not, to visit her in the hospital. With all that was going on in Andrea’s personal and business life, she certainly had a perfect excuse now to go home and get the sleep she needed.

Except for her obligation as a child of God to comfort one of the children He would soon call home. Andrea remembered the vigil that she and her sisters had kept for Sandra, as well as the vigils for Kathleen and Mother and Daddy. None of Andrea’s loved ones had been alone in their last hours…and she could not let Jane Huxbaugh pass alone, either.

She went back to the office and explained to Doris that she’d be leaving for the hospital immediately.

Regardless of location or size or the wealth of the patients, there’s a distinctive smell in every hospital. It’s not the scent of disinfectant, disease or medical lotions. It’s the subtle blend of hope and fear, despair and optimism, as
some patients fight to live just a little longer while others pray for death to come.

Andrea hated hospitals. Maybe hated was too strong a word. She was trying not to hate anything these days, anyway. Hospitals made her feel…uncomfortable. Too many memories, too many times when she would have to rush to the hospital in the middle of the night or leave hours or days later, with yet one less family member here on earth.

When she arrived at the hospital, she went straight to the main visitors’ desk and signed in. She checked her watch to write down the time. It was one-fifteen.

The elderly woman behind the desk put down her magazine and checked the sign-in log, saw Jane Huxbaugh listed as the patient being visited and Andrea’s relationship listed as friend and shook her head. “Sorry. No visitors. Just got that written down in the book so I don’t have to look it up.”

“Doctor’s orders or the patient’s?” Andrea asked.

“The patient’s orders. Don’t blame me. I’m just a volunteer, and even if you wanted to visit, you couldn’t. It’s immediate family only in the coronary-care unit, and she doesn’t have any family. I wrote that in the book, too.”

Andrea dismissed the gentle reprimand, but she did not have to feign disappointment. “Oh, dear. That’s a problem, isn’t it?”

“Not for me,” the volunteer receptionist quipped, and turned her attention back to her magazine.

Andrea did not know whether to ask to see someone else in charge or to try to see if she could get the woman to bend the rules. She did know she was not leaving, not without see
ing Miss Huxbaugh. When Andrea noticed the old silver cross pinned on the woman’s sweater, she decided to try persuasion. “I wonder if you might be able to help me,” she murmured.

“Not unless there’s another patient you want to visit,” the woman replied without taking her eyes from the article she was reading.

“No, but it’s very important for me to see Miss Huxbaugh. I could lie and say I was her daughter. I could even get very insistent and demand to see someone higher in authority,” Andrea suggested. “I’d rather just tell you the truth and let you decide if you want to help me or not.”

The woman raised her eyes and looked at Andrea. “Considerin’ most folks would start yellin’ or makin’ a real fuss, that might be a refreshin’ change. Go ahead. Make your case, not that it’ll matter much. It just might be more interestin’ than this magazine.”

Andrea nodded. “Miss Huxbaugh is dying, and she’s going to die alone unless you let me visit her. I’ve lost four members of my family, and not one of them died alone. But Miss Huxbaugh doesn’t have any family. I just came because too many people die alone, that’s all.”

“But you’re not related to her?”

“Only through faith.”

The woman’s gnarled fingers gently caressed the old silver cross for a moment, before she handed Andrea a turquoise pass. “There’s a chapel you might want to visit. Go down the hall and take the second left, not the first one. If you take the first one, you’ll be in the east wing. You don’t want to go into the east wing because if you do, you’ll pass right by the coronary-care unit and you can’t go anywhere
near there because Miss Huxbaugh isn’t takin’ any visitors. Now if you do make a wrong turn and somehow end up where you’re not supposed to be and Miss Huxbaugh starts yellin’, you hightail it outta there and explain you got lost goin’ to the chapel. Understand?”

Andrea returned the woman’s wink with one of her own. “Perfectly.”

“Good. Now all I need for you to do is put your name and telephone number on this here slip of paper.” She handed Andrea a pen and a piece of memo paper.

Without asking why, Andrea did as she was told and handed both back.

The old woman tucked the paper under the sleeve of her sweater. “I’m eighty-one years old come October. Got no family. I might need to call you up if I get real sick. That okay with you?”

Andrea’s heart trembled. “You call me anytime. Day or night,” she whispered, and started toward the hall. She took the first left, found the coronary-care unit without a single person to challenge her and slipped into the dim cubicle, where she found Miss Huxbaugh lying in bed, as expected. She was connected to a heart monitor and an IV, which probably carried some nutrition as well as medication.

Andrea approached the bed quietly. Miss Huxbaugh was resting peacefully with her eyes closed. If the stroke had weakened any of her muscles, they weren’t the ones in her face. She just looked very old and frail, quite the opposite of her personality. Her breathing was slow and shallow; Andrea had to listen very hard to hear it. She carried a chair to the side of the bed and sat down.

After bowing her head, she said “The Lord’s Prayer” silently. As she prayed, she placed her hand on top of Miss Huxbaugh’s right hand, so very pale and cool to the touch. When a nurse suddenly appeared to check the IV bag, she wrote down something on the chart and smiled. “I didn’t realize she’d changed her mind about visitors. I’m glad you’re here. Even though she’s sleeping right now, she’s still lucid at times. The stroke hasn’t affected her speech, so you may get to talk to her, though she’s very weak. She doesn’t have much longer.”

Andrea swallowed the lump in her throat. “How much time—”

“Maybe till morning, but probably not that long. Under the circumstances, you can stay as long as you like. I can bring an extra pillow for you, or maybe a blanket? It gets a little chilly at night.”

“No. Thank you. I’ll be fine.”

“Ring the buzzer if you need anything, or when the time comes,” the nurse whispered before she left, closing the curtains around the bed and giving Andrea and Miss Huxbaugh a little privacy.

Andrea rested her forehead against the side of the bed and dozed off and on between prayers for what seemed an eternity. Once or twice, she thought she felt Miss Huxbaugh stir, but when she checked, the woman’s eyes were still closed and she was still asleep. Andrea woke with a start when she heard a cart rumbling past the cubicle. She checked her watch. It was almost midnight.

The noise, however, had disturbed Miss Huxbaugh. She opened her eyes. When she saw Andrea, her eyes widened and filled with panic. With her right hand, she yanked on Andrea’s sleeve. “Closer. Come…closer.”

Andrea rose and leaned her face toward the woman’s face.

“Get my keys…from my pocketbook.”

“Your keys? You want me to get your keys from your pocketbook?”

“Hurry.”

Andrea knew better, but she searched under the bed and the small metal chest of drawers anyway. Valuables and personal items were always stored away when patients were admitted to a hospital. “I’m sorry. They must have everything locked up for you for safekeeping. Your pocketbook isn’t even here.”

Miss Huxbaugh closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she tugged on Andrea’s hand until she had bent down closer to the woman’s face. “Under a rock…in my garden…by the front door. There’s a key…hidden there.”

Andrea leaned even closer. The woman’s voice was so low now she could barely hear her.

“Take it. Go inside. Under…under the bed, there are…boxes filled with…letters.”

“I understand,” Andrea whispered. “What do you want me to do with the letters?”

Tears streamed down Miss Huxbaugh’s face. “Burn them. Don’t…just throw away. Burn them. Please…burn them for me. Don’t let…don’t let anyone read them after…I’m gone.”

“I will. I promise,” Andrea crooned.

“Good girl. Good…girl…good…”

Miss Huxbaugh closed her eyes and drew in one last breath before she passed from this world to the next. Her hand slipped down to the bed. Andrea put the old wom
an’s arm beneath the covers, but she remained where she was at the side of the bed and closed her own eyes.

There had been times in Andrea’s life when she had felt close to God, but there had been other times when she had felt His very presence.

Times like now.

She had experienced the same feeling each time she had witnessed the passing of a loved one. First, Kathleen, then Daddy and Mother and, finally, Sandra. When they had passed, their sickrooms had filled with such holiness and inspired such awe, Andrea had felt as though she had been witnessing one of life’s greatest wonders: the reunion of a soul with the Creator.

She filled with awe. She felt the holy presence of God. And she prayed for the soul of Miss Jane Huxbaugh.
May she finally find the joy in heaven she had never found in her journey here on earth.