Loving Tenderness (8 page)

Philip stood frozen in place as the doctor turned and left.

Andrew stared at his brother in disbelief. “What happened?”

“She reacted to the anesthesia and stopped breathing.”

Andrew didn’t understand, but it wasn’t time to ply his brother with questions. He rested his hand on Philip’s shoulder.

Philip continued without question. “During an emergency they have to use general anesthesia and that has a risk factor. She went into respiratory arrest.”

Respiratory arrest.
The words cut through Andrew’s heart and his defenses. Without thought, Andrew drew his brother into his arms and embraced him. Philip pressed his face against Andrew’s neck and sobbed
while tears rolled from Andrew’s eyes and joined Philip’s.

“Heavenly Father,” Andrew whispered through his sorrow, “be with Jemma and hold her in Your healing hand. You can make all things right, and with You, nothing is impossible. Lord, we understand Your will. Your needs are first in our lives, but Father, please remember Ellie and their new son…” A son. The word hadn’t sunk in until now. “…their new son who needs a mother so badly, and Philip who wants his wife by his side.”

“Thank you,” Philip murmured as he pulled back and withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his eyes, then blew his nose and grasped Andrew’s hand. “It’s good to have you here. This means more to me than anything.”

Andrew’s thoughts spiraled.
This means more to me than anything.
Could Philip forget? How could he forgive the years Andrew had been away? The time he’d avoided coming home for their father’s funeral? Squandering the family money? But the sincerity in Philip’s eyes quelled the negative thoughts running through Andrew’s mind. “It means more than you know for me to be here, Philip. I love you and Jemma. I’ve probably never said that before.”

“You didn’t have to,” Philip said. He finally moved from the hallway and returned to the waiting room, but this time he found a chair and sank into it.

Andrew sat beside him, wishing he could think of something to say, but nothing seemed worthwhile except the prayer he’d sent heavenward.

Hannah rose in his thoughts. He needed to call her, but more than the call, Andrew realized that Hannah had become a primary part of his life. Since he’d found her
and JJ on the highway, their lives had begun to intertwine, and Andrew clung to the warm feeling.

Friendship. His jaw tightened.
Friendship
had become too weak a word.
Relationship
didn’t seem strong enough. What were they? His pulse picked up speed as he pondered the reality that swept over him. He could no longer dismiss the growing feelings, the emotion that he’d tried to avoid and the longing he’d fought to quell.

P
ropped on her elbow, Hannah clung to the bedroom phone receiver, feeling the worry in Andrew’s early-morning call. Though she’d only met Jemma for a moment, she’d heard so many nice things about her, and she knew Jemma was esteemed in the community. She and Philip were strong Christians who didn’t deserve such sadness.

She never understood sorrow, except she knew it happened for God’s purpose, a purpose she would never understand until she met the Lord face to face.

Andrew’s tired voice had dragged through the phone line. He’d called her last evening and again this morning. Anxious to see him, Hannah had offered him breakfast, and he’d agreed to stop by. Needing to get up and make the meal she’d promised, Hannah slipped her feet from beneath the sheet.

The Memorial Day holiday provided Hannah a day to relax. She tiptoed to her son’s room, and JJ’s silence attested to the fact that he was still sleeping. Hannah reveled in the luxury of stepping into the shower in silence and letting the warm water wash over her tired, tense
body while her prayer rose to heaven. “I’m tired of fighting you, Lord,” she said aloud, “and I’m sure You’re tired of my struggle. Help me to hold on to Your promises, and to learn that You know what’s best for us all.”

The words left her, yet she asked herself what good could come from Jemma losing her life to bring a new child into the world. It all seemed so unfair, so unbelievably horrible. The ulcer, Hannah suspected racked her belly, and she swallowed the gnawing sensation that had surged through her the past month.

She dressed quickly, checked on JJ again, then strode to the kitchen to prepare coffee. While the maker gurgled and dripped liquid into the pot, she pulled eggs and sausage from the refrigerator.

Andrew deserved a home-cooked breakfast. He’d spent the night with Philip and had seen the sun rise with no change in Jemma’s condition as she clung to life. Tears bubbled in Hannah’s eyes, and she brushed them away with the back of her hand, amazed she felt so much sorrow for a family she barely knew. Yet she knew Andrew, and she was certain his brother and family were as kind and caring as he was.

With the bacon sputtering in the pan, Hannah whisked the eggs, added milk and some diced onions she’d had leftover from the pasta salad she’d made for the picnic, then she poured the mixture into the frying pan. As the pungent odors filled the room, nausea rose in Hannah’s throat. She gagged at the smell, snapped off the burners and darted into the bathroom.

While she hung her head over the basin, longing to stop the horrible sensation, she heard the doorbell ring. She rinsed her mouth and hurried to the door, trying to cover the next wave of nausea surging over her.

“You look tired,” she said as Andrew came into the room. “I’m so sorry for—”

He grasped her shoulders, his eyes glazed with exhaustion. “I know. It’s been awful.” He drew her closer and rested his head against her hair. “Thanks for letting me come by. I needed to talk with someone who’d understand how I feel. I tried to be strong for Philip.”

His touch swept over her while his weary body trembled. Hannah did understand. She wished she comprehended her own ailment as well. The thought of having something seriously wrong herself had only been brushed aside by Jemma’s battle to live.

She drew back, and Andrew’s whiskers brushed against her cheek. “Come into the kitchen,” she said, not wanting to let him go. The closeness felt so good and right. “I’ve probably burned everything.”

He followed her, and with relief, she saw that turning off the burners had saved the food. She popped two pieces of bread into the toaster, poured Andrew’s coffee, then went to the hallway door to listen.

“I should wake JJ. He’s slept late today. If I don’t wake him now, he won’t sleep tonight.”

“I don’t want to mess up your routine,” Andrew said.

She faltered, then returned to the table. “Today’s a holiday. I suppose you forgot that.”

He nodded, sadness covering his features.

“I’m glad you came. I’m happy I can do something for you.” She dished up his eggs and sausage, then handed him the plate. When the toast popped, she dropped in two more pieces of bread and pushed down the lever. When she turned around, Andrew’s head was bowed, and she assumed he was praying.

“Here,” she said, handing him a piece of toast when he’d lifted his head. “I’ll have another for you in a second.”

She took the other piece, sank into a chair and bit into the toast, hoping to hold back her sick feeling. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, not wanting to alarm him.

Andrew looked at her a moment, his gaze searching hers, then lowered his fork and told her in detail the trials of the previous evening and the bad news Philip had received in the morning.

“Please tell me there’s hope?” Hannah said. “I’ve prayed for her. I want to know what else I can do.”

Andrew’s gaze deepened with tenderness. “Thanks. Prayer is the answer. Even the doctor said that’s the only thing that will get her through.”

The prognosis sounded hopeless, but Hannah crammed the fear back into her mind. “We’ll pray continually then. Jesus said ask and you will receive. We have to trust His promises.”

Andrew slid his hand across the table to hers resting beside her unused coffee cup. He caressed her fingers and brushed her arm with a gentle touch. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

Her hopes rose. “About Jemma and Philip?”

“Partly, but about me, too, and what this all means.”

His gaze captured hers, and she felt her pulse jump at the look in his eyes. She didn’t speak, eager to hear what he meant.

“I’ve been unable to show love to my brother for many years, and last night I held him in my arms while we both cried. Jemma’s illness is horrifying, but it has
one positive effect.” He paused and added, “It brought Philip and me closer together and allowed me to show my love for him.”

Hannah turned her hand palm up and grasped his fingers in hers, giving them a squeeze to let him know she understood.

“Mommy.”

JJ’s call interrupted Hannah’s thoughts. She rose and headed toward the hallway, but JJ met her at the kitchen doorway, his pajamas twisted and his hair rumpled from his pillow. A sleepy look filled his eyes.

When he saw Andrew, a puzzled look spread over his face, and he dug his fists into his eyes as if trying to make sure what he saw was real.

“Hi, JJ,” Andrew said, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he stood beside him. “Want some breakfast?”

JJ nodded. “Did you come over to eat?”

Andrew chuckled, and the sound spread over Hannah like sunshine. “I invited him over because he was at the hospital all night with his brother.”

“You have a brother?” JJ asked, sliding onto the chair.

Andrew nodded. “Just one brother. You saw him yesterday. He’s Ellie’s father.”

JJ thought a moment. “I remember. I wish I had a brother.”

His words caught Hannah by surprise. JJ had never mentioned wanting a sibling, and in her predicament, Hannah never expected she would have another child. She started to say her thoughts aloud, but faltered. This wasn’t the time to talk about babies.

Instead, Hannah dished some egg onto a plate and pushed the lone piece of cold toast back into the toaster to reheat. “Here’s your breakfast, JJ.”

He didn’t look at the food but eyed Andrew. “Will you stay and play with me?”

This time Andrew laughed out loud and ruffled her son’s hair. “I have to go to work, JJ. We can play later.”

“Okay,” JJ said.

“Work?” Hannah asked.

“The resort is open on holidays. I have to take care of a few things, then I want to go back to the hospital.”

“But what about sleep?” His tired face filled her with sadness.

He only shrugged and took a drink of coffee. “Sleep’s not important today. Family is.”

Hannah let the words flood through her.
Family is important.

JJ finished his breakfast, at least as much as he would eat, and Andrew lingered over his coffee, then pushed his chair back and rose. “I need to get to Bay Breeze. I know everyone’s worried there.”

“I’m glad you stopped by. I worry about you.”

He stepped closer and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’re a wonderful woman, Hannah. Thanks so much for the breakfast and for your prayers.”

Her body trembled as she felt him draw her closer. His arms wrapped around her back and pressed her against his chest. She felt small beside him, and his manly scent awakened her senses.

Before he drew back, he pressed his lips against her cheek. “Thank you for being you.” He turned and with a wave vanished through the kitchen doorway.

Hannah clung to the chair back, relishing the softness of his lips on her face and the feel of his warm arms encircling her.

The following Sunday, Hannah looked out the front window for Andrew. He’d asked her to attend worship, and she’d accepted. Her willing agreement surprised her. She’d been away from her faith so long, but with Jemma hanging on through her serious illness and Hannah’s own trials, life had taken a new meaning and so had God.

When she saw Andrew’s sedan pull into the driveway, Hannah grabbed her handbag. “Ready, JJ?”

JJ ambled into the room, a pout evident on his face. “Why do we have to go to church? I won’t have anything to do.”

Repentance gripped Hannah. When she’d been young, she’d had an opportunity to know Jesus through her neighbors, but her son had been cheated because she hadn’t given him the opportunity to learn. “They have kids’ church, JJ. It’s fun. You’ll do crafts and play.” And learn about Jesus, she thought to herself, not wanting to confuse him.

“Will Andrew play, too?”

Andrew. The child’s thoughts were so focused on Andrew’s presence in their lives. Her heart ached. “Andrew will go to the big people’s church with me, but maybe after church we can do something fun. I’ll see, okay?”

The doorbell rang in unison with JJ’s “Okay.” He dragged his feet to the door, but seeing Andrew he perked up. “Can we do something fun after church?”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, aghast at her son’s bold request. She leaned closer to Andrew’s ear. “He’s not real excited about going to church.”

“We’ll go out for lunch, JJ. To one of those fast-food places where they have tunnels and slides.”

“Yippee,” JJ sang as they headed to the car.

“Don’t worry about it,” Andrew said, putting his arm around Hannah’s shoulder. “I wanted to talk with you anyway.”

“About Jemma? Is she worse?”

“She’s still hanging in there. The more time that passes the better the prognosis, the doctor said. Keep the prayers flying.”

“I have.”

“I wanted to talk with you about…me.”

“You?” Her heart tumbled to her shoes.

“You’ll understand, but later, okay?”

She nodded, trying to look unaffected by his words. Had he decided he’d been spending too much time with her? Might he confess he’d met someone else?

They settled into the car with JJ buckled into the back seat and headed for church, both deep in their own thoughts. Hannah sensed that something weighed heavily on Andrew’s mind. She saw his tense grip on the steering wheel, his shoulders rigid. The more time that passed without him talking, the more bewildered she became. If he wanted to say goodbye, she wished he’d done it long ago.

In the church parking lot, Hannah stepped into the summer sun, then reached for the back door to help JJ, but Andrew had hurried around the car and taken over. As her son slid to the ground, Andrew grasped Hannah’s hand and walked beside her toward the church’s side entrance.

Andrew located the proper classroom for JJ, and once her son seemed comfortable, they headed into the church foyer. Beyond the wide arch, the worship area stretched before them already filled with people. Hannah scanned the worshipers, recognizing a few.

As they moved down the aisle, Andrew stopped to answer questions about Jemma’s progress and to greet people he knew. He introduced Hannah to those she hadn’t met at the picnic until he finally halted and motioned her into a row.

Hannah sat and looked through the church bulletin while her thoughts lingered on Andrew’s earlier comment. What did he want to talk about later? The old fear teased her newfound confidence. Her life had been different from Andrew’s, and looking around at the well-dressed congregation only shook her assurance further.

The organ began, and the congregation rose to sing. A reader stepped to the podium, and the Bible verses marched through her mind—some familiar, some not. She tried to concentrate on the sermon, but her thoughts wandered, and not until prayer time, when the pastor asked for continued prayer for Jemma and Philip did she truly tune in to the service.

She could only imagine Philip’s anxiety, and she longed to be confident that God would make all things right, but she’d prayed years ago and things hadn’t gotten any better. Hannah wanted so badly to trust the Lord. Though skepticism nudged at her, she prayed, hoping, longing to have the Lord answer the united prayer of the people who now asked for Jemma’s healing.

The service ended, and outside in the sunlight, JJ bounded toward them from the side door. “Let’s go to the restaurant,” he said, dangling something in his hand.

“What’s that,” Hannah asked, pointing to the item that fluttered on the breeze.

“It’s fruits.”

“Fruits?” She reached down and lifted the paper cre
ation he’d made. She turned it over, and saw a banana with the word
peace
printed along the curve.

“Fruits of the Spirit,” Andrew said. “I learned the verse in Sunday school and never forgot it. Galatians 5:22-23. The fruits of the spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” He captured JJ’s shoulder and drew him closer. “And your fruit is peace. That’s something we all need.”

“Even you?” JJ asked, looking up at him with hero worship that sent Hannah’s heart spiraling.

Andrew grinned. “Even me.”

“And me,” Hannah said, admitting she’d been so far from peace lately she didn’t know if she’d recognize it.