Authors: Francine Rivers
Tags: #FICTION / Christian / General, #FICTION / General
“I’ve got a business to run. I have a family to take care of. I’m not some snot-nosed rich kid going through college on a trust fund!”
Corban felt the heat rush into his face.
“Yeah!” George sounded positively smug. “I know all about you. Sociology major. Big paper to write. Did you think I wouldn’t want to find out the whole story on some guy who just shows up one day to
help
a little old lady out of the kindness of his heart? I hired someone to find out about you.”
Wrath melted into shame. “You could’ve asked me. What did you think? I was after Leota’s massive estate? She lives from one Social Security check to another while her daughter lives in Blackhawk and her son—”
“Get out of here!” George bellowed. “Or I’ll throw you out!”
The staff at the nurses’ station looked at each other. “Do you think we should do something?” a candy striper said to one of the nurses. The
medical technician stood in the supply room listening to the heated conversation. He shook his head.
“You stay out of it. I’ve already paged the doctor and a chaplain.”
“Someone in there is going to need a doctor. They sound like they’re going to start a fistfight.”
“It won’t be the first time,” another nurse said. “Everyone trying to do what they think is right, no one wanting to take responsibility, and the poor old lady caught in the middle.”
“I don’t think that’s what’s going on,” another staff member said. “The granddaughter
wants
to take care of her.”
“Get real. Did you see the girl? She can’t be more than eighteen. Still wet behind the ears and she’s supposed to have that kind of responsibility?”
“Maybe if she had some help,” a nurse said, writing notes on a chart.
“From what I hear, the patient and her daughter have been estranged for years, and the son isn’t close to her either,” said another, going into the medicine cabinet.
“It sounds like they care.”
“Oh, they care all right. Put her away and let the state pay the bills. That’ll leave something for them when—”
“What an awful thing to say.”
“How do you know so much?” The other nurse slipped the chart back into its file.
“All you have to do is listen!”
“It’s not our business what they think. Our job is to take care of the patient.”
A chaplain walked by, heading for the waiting room.
“That poor little old lady.”
“The granddaughter wants to take care of her,” the candy striper said again.
“Doesn’t sound like she’ll get help from anyone in that room.”
The head nurse picked up another chart. “Well, the patient won’t be here long.”
“Is she going to die?”
“We all die sometime, but I didn’t mean that. She could last a long time. You never know in these cases. They can surprise you. And miracles still happen. What I meant was we’re short on beds, and she’s going to
need long-term care. Dr. Patterson will have her moved into a convalescent hospital unless the family comes to some kind of agreement.”
“Doesn’t sound like they can agree on anything.”
“How sad.” The young candy striper shrugged.
“It’s better than the alternative.” The head nurse slipped the chart back into its place and went down the hall to check on a patient.
One of the nurses was checking over the med chart and the meds in their small paper cups. She glanced at the medical technician who was checking orders. “What do you think, Hiram?”
“I feel sorry for Mrs. Reinhardt.”
Hiram knew death could sometimes be an ally. He could hear the arguing going on in the waiting room. He’d listened to the nurses without adding his opinion. He’d drawn blood from Leota Reinhardt not more than an hour ago. It wouldn’t be hard to get his hands on the doctor’s report and see the prognosis.
He’d helped terminally ill patients before. Maybe he could help Leota Reinhardt, too.
Leota knew something was wrong the moment Annie came into her room. Though her granddaughter smiled cheerfully, Leota could see the puffiness around her eyes, the redness of them. She was pretending everything was going to be fine.
Annie took her hand. “I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can, Grandma.” Her mouth worked and she swallowed convulsively. “I’ll do whatever I have to . . .”
“They giving you trouble?”
“We’re just working out some details.”
Leota saw the pain in Annie’s eyes, the strain. She saw other things as well, things she hadn’t noticed over the past weeks of being in her granddaughter’s care. A pity she had to have a stroke to learn what it was like to have a loving daughter. Annie was everything Leota had hoped Eleanor would be. Kind, gentle, unselfish, honest, joyful. Eleanor had been such a sweet little girl, so eager to please. Circumstances had damaged her. Poor Eleanor had learned to lock away hurt by hiding inside herself. Maybe someone would be able to break through the walls and
shake her out of herself. Maybe then Eleanor would be the woman God intended her to be.
Whatever happens, God, don’t let them ruin Annie. Don’t let bitterness take root and choke out her faith. Lord, would You do that for me? Put a high hedge around my granddaughter. Make a wall. Put angels in the watchtowers. I’ve failed You. I wasn’t able to rear a child after Your own heart. How ironic that it was Eleanor who did it. No, that’s not right either. I mustn’t think that way. It was You. It was You all the time, Lord. It was You who made this miracle.
“Grandma?” Annie was searching her face.
Leota tried to concentrate. She mustn’t let her mind wander so much. “Don’t worry about me. Whatever happens, honey, you know who holds the cards.”
Annie’s eyes lightened, warmed, glowed. “I love you, Grandma. I love you so much.” A litany from her heart.
“I love you, too.” Leota couldn’t begin to tell Annie how much the past months had meant to her. So many barren, lonely years. And then the idyll. “Precious . . . precious . . .” She didn’t want to think about the storm coming.
Lord, I am too old and sick to dress myself for battle. You’ll have to put my armor on for me.
“The doctor said he’s given you something to help you rest, Grandma. I’ll come back in the morning.” Annie leaned down and kissed her. Someone was speaking to her from the doorway. Annie glanced up, nodded, and then looked down at her again. “I have to go now, Grandma. Hang on, please. Don’t go home to the Lord yet.”
George came in next. He didn’t say much, but Leota could feel the tension radiating from him. Anger held in check. Had she inconvenienced him again? What time was it? Maybe he was supposed to be at work instead of visiting her in the hospital. Jeanne approached. Why was there such a look of shame on her face? What was going on? George and Jeanne wished her a good night and left.
Then Eleanor and Fred came in.
My, it’s a regular family reunion. Everyone but the grandchildren.
Leota had never seen her daughter look so heartsick. Fred had his arm around her shoulders as she came closer. When Eleanor put her hand over her mother’s, emotions flooded Leota.
Oh, Lord, she is softening. Oh, Lord, Lord, it’s finally happening. It is.
Leota wept.
How long had it been since her daughter had touched her? The last thing Leota wanted to do was frighten her daughter away so soon, but she couldn’t seem to hold the flood back. Annie said it was the stroke. Emotions could no longer be restrained.
Eleanor’s face convulsed. She turned away slightly, but Fred was turning her back again, whispering encouragement. Before Eleanor could say anything, a nurse came into the room.
“I’m sorry, but the doctor said it’s best if Mrs. Reinhardt rests now. You can come back tomorrow morning and visit.”
Eleanor was in control again. Or so it seemed, until she looked down, her gaze barely brushing Leota’s. “Good night, Mama.”
Mama.
She hadn’t said that since she was a little girl.
Mama. Mama!
Leota remembered her little darling screaming after her as she was held tightly in Helene Reinhardt’s arms.
“Mama! Mama! Don’t go!”
Leota wanted to travel back in time. She reached out to her daughter, but Eleanor was already turning away.
Oh, God, give me a few more minutes with her.
Why couldn’t that nurse allow them another five minutes? Miracles happened in less time than that! Leota had seen Eleanor’s broken spirit. Was she contrite as well? She raised her hand weakly from the bed. “Ellie . . .”
It was Fred who noticed her. He leaned down and took her hand in his. “I’ll bring her back tomorrow morning, Leota. Keep the faith.” He kissed her hand like a gentleman, and then they were gone.
Annie unlocked her car. Corban was with her, and she could feel the anger radiating from him. He was still fuming over the scene in the waiting room. Listening to Uncle George rant and rave, she had wondered if she was wrong and he was right. Maybe she was being thoughtless and immature. Then she had seen Grandma Leota in that hospital bed. She couldn’t bear to let her live out the rest of her life in a convalescent home when it was within her power to take her home and care for her.
Lord, I know it won’t be easy. Father, I know I’m near exhaustion and I need more help. Jesus, help me do the things I need to do with wisdom. I can’t stand alone. Maybe some of what Uncle George said about me having a martyr complex is true. If so, get me out of that mode and make me discerning.
She’d call Maryann Carter and get a list of professionals who could help. She’d talk to the bank about a reverse mortgage or whatever was needed.
Corban took her arm. “Are you sure you’re all right to drive, Annie?”
“I’m fine, Corban. Thanks for supporting me through this.”
“It isn’t over, Annie.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going home. I’m going to pray and make some phone calls, and then I’m going to rest. Tomorrow morning I’m coming back and getting Grandma out of there.”
“What time?”
“Grandma usually sleeps until eight.”
“I’ll be here at seven forty-five. If we have to zip her up in a body bag to sneak her out, we’ll do it.”
Annie gave a broken laugh. “She’d be game for that, I’m sure. It would suit her sense of humor.” She took his hand in both of hers. “Thank you, Corban.” She saw something flicker in his eyes. With a sense of regret, she released him. She hadn’t meant to give him a wrong impression. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She slid into her car. He closed her door for her and stepped back as she buckled up and started the engine. Giving him a wave, she backed out of the parking space and headed toward the exit. When she pulled out of the lot, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Corban was still standing there, watching her.