Rejoice (16 page)

And the girls?

He wasn’t sure about Hayley, because with any kind of luck she would probably forget he ever existed, forget she ever had a father who let her wander out to a backyard pool by herself. But Maddie would certainly grow up knowing what it felt like to live without a father.

The fact should’ve made him sad, as though he’d failed somehow. Instead he felt nothing but inevitability, an understanding of what his own father had gone through because sometimes marriages died. And when that happened, kids simply had to find a way to understand.

He gazed at the letter one more time. His belief system was much different back then. Fate or karma? Cosmic twists? Reincarnation? How immature he’d been to believe in any of that. Not a stitch of evidence existed for those beliefs. They were nothing but romantic meanderings, wishful thinking.

Long before Hayley was born he’d stopped believing anything of the sort. Life and everything about life could be explained by science. Scientific method or scientific discovery or scientific theory. One of the three.

Then, after September 11, he’d agreed to go to church with Brooke, and the strangest thing happened. The idea of God—one God, the creator of Earth and everything in it—began to make sense. Certain scientific discoveries or unexplainable phenomena were proof that God existed, after all. Creation, a great flood, a crucified Christ brought back to life, an empty tomb. All of it had suddenly seemed real, more real than a lifetime of textbooks and scientific ideas. Pastor Mark’s sermons spoke to his heart and for a while, life had meaning and purpose that went beyond careers and relationships.

But at the same time, something began to die in his marriage. Peter huffed. That’s what he got for going to church and believing in God. Not that faith caused them to grow apart, but it sure hadn’t helped.

Peter returned the letter to the top of the stack and put the lid back on the box. Nothing good could come from reliving the way he’d felt about Brooke all those years ago. In every way he could imagine, she’d been a different person back then. The letters told him that much. But they told him something else, something sad and unavoidable.

He was a different person, too.

Chapter Sixteen

By the middle of December Ashley still hadn’t seen a doctor. Luke’s wedding was coming up fast, and then the holidays. Waiting a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt. Besides, doctors wouldn’t schedule new patients this late in the year. Not when they weren’t showing symptoms, and Ashley wasn’t.

Other than the way she missed Landon, she felt fine.

It was Monday afternoon, just before three o’clock, and Ashley was at her parents’ house finishing a painting. Kari was back to modeling part-time, now that Ryan’s football team was out of the play-offs, but today she and their mother had taken Jessie, Cole, and Maddie to lunch and the indoor play park so Ashley could work in the Baxters’ upstairs guest room.

The day was cold, a few inches of snow on the ground and more expected that evening. Ashley loved the way winter made her feel; something about the cold weather drew her family together and made the Baxter house practically glow with warmth and love. The atmosphere was perfect for painting.

The picture she was working on was a combination of recent images that had touched her heart. The foreground showed the back of a small boy decked out in a firefighter costume. The child was holding hands with an older woman, who from the back looked a great deal like Irvel. The two were standing on the sidewalk in front of a country fire station, an American flag flying from a pole outside.

The little boy was saluting.

Ashley studied it, the way the sky came to life and made the flag more pronounced. It was good . . . very good. Landon would’ve loved it. She bit her lip and thought about him. Where was he and what was he doing? Was he busier now, training for the new position?

And did he ever think of her?

She let her eyes move down the painting to the quaint firehouse. Funny how so much of her art reflected Landon and his line of work. As if even the core of her creativity could do nothing but be inspired by him, even now when their lives were finally headed in different directions.

Something about the lawn in front of the firehouse wasn’t quite right, and Ashley picked up her smallest paintbrush. She mixed pale yellow with a summery green color and added a few selective wisps to the grass. There. She sat back and studied it.

“Perfect.” She whispered the word, and then she did the thing she’d taken to doing now that she was painting again. She hung her head, closed her eyes, and spoke the words out loud. “God, thank you for letting me paint. Use this piece, this work, to soften hearts for you.”

When she opened her eyes, she stared at the painting a little longer and knew for sure. This one had to go to the gallery. After getting the results of her blood test earlier in the fall, she had decided not to continue exhibiting her work in New York. Instead, she’d taken a few of her pieces over to the best-known local art shop, the one near the university. The owner had been thrilled.

“I can see why they sold so well in Manhattan.” The woman was in her forties, her shop a fixture in Bloomington for the past decade. “I’d love to sell your paintings.”

“I won’t be working full-time, but if you’re willing, I’d like a place to showcase my work. Even if it’s only one piece a month.”

The woman had agreed, and now Ashley thought the piece she’d just finished would be the first one she’d take in. The shop was small, nothing like the intense, high-stakes, leather-and-mahogany storefront in New York City. Piece of My Art, it was called. And it was comfortable for Ashley’s new, slower pace.

She heard a car in the driveway and smiled. They were home, and she could almost feel Cole’s arms around her neck. They came through the garage door, and Ashley heard Cole announce that he was going to find his mommy.

“Where’s my best mommy? Here I come!”

Ashley smiled. She and Cole were so much closer now; something else for which Landon would always deserve credit. Her son burst into the room and stopped when he saw her easel. Ever since he was a toddler, he’d known not to run up to her if she was painting.

“Still coloring, Mom?” He was bundled in a sweatshirt, turtleneck, and blue jeans.

“Nope. All finished.” She set her paintbrush on her tray, wiped her hands on her apron, and climbed down off the high-backed stool. When she was a few feet from the easel she held out her hands and he ran to her, jumping into her arms. “How was the play park?”

“So fun, Mommy. Me and Maddie raced on the slides.” His cheeks were ruddy, his dark blond hair matted and sweaty from playing so hard. “That’s the bestest place. Even baby Jessie had fun with the other babies.”

“Good.” Ashley gave him a quick kiss on his forehead. He tasted salty, and she breathed in the smell of him, a mix of faint shampoo and buttered popcorn. “Sounds like me and you have to go soon.”

“Maybe tomorrow!” Cole’s eyes lit up, and he slid back to the floor.

“Maybe.” She took his hand. Her brushes needed cleaning, but they could wait a few minutes. “Let’s go talk to Grandma and Aunt Kari.”

They bounded down the stairs together. Ashley found her mother and sister talking in quiet tones in the kitchen. Her mother was dabbing at her eyes. Ashley stopped short of them and looked down at her young son. “Uh . . . Cole, why don’t you go upstairs and play in the toy room.”

“Okay.” He ran past the sofa, where Jessie was lying asleep, still bundled in her jacket. He stopped short and spun around. “Hey, Grandma, can I play with the Lincoln Logs?”

“Yes, Cole.”

Ashley made eye contact with her son. “Just clean up whatever you take out.”

“All right.” Cole flashed her a grin and he was off, bounding back up the stairs, oblivious to the drama playing out in the kitchen.

Ashley looked at her mother and stifled a deep sigh as she approached her. Since Hayley’s accident, her mother still hadn’t rebounded. Not to the cheerful, upbeat person she’d been before.

“Hey . . .” She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Cole says you had a great time.”

Kari turned and leaned against the kitchen counter. She had her hand on their mother’s shoulder. “The kids were great.”

“Good.” Ashley shifted her gaze to her mother. “What’s wrong?”

Their mother gave a quick shake of her head and bit her lip. She held up a single hand, as if to say she couldn’t explain just yet. “I’m sorry.”

Kari took over. “We stopped by Brooke’s house on the way home to drop off Maddie.”

“Is everything okay with Hayley?” Ashley felt her heart drop a notch. Hayley had gone home a few days ago to be with Brooke and Maddie.

“Yes.” Kari looked at their mother’s shoulder. “It was just hard. It’s one thing seeing Hayley in a hospital bed. Any progress looks good there. But seeing her strapped to a wheelchair . . .”

Their mother reached for a tissue and used it to dab her eyes. “She’s doing so well. But still . . . I can’t imagine the day when she’ll ride that pink bike in the garage.”

“That’s why we have to pray.” Ashley took another step closer and looked from her mother to her sister and back again. “God’s going to heal her, Mom. I know it.”

Their mother nodded. “That’s not all.” She sniffed and her red, swollen eyes met Ashley’s. “Peter’s moved out. I think I hoped it wasn’t really going to happen. Like maybe Peter was only feeling guilty about Hayley, and that when he found out she was coming home, he might change his mind.”

“And now Brooke isn’t sure if she’s going to Luke’s wedding.” Kari made a sad face in Ashley’s direction. “Mom didn’t cry until she got in the car. I think it was hard for her, pretending to be strong for Brooke.”

“Mom . . .” This time Ashley came up along the other side of their mother and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” Mom managed a weak smile. “I pray all the time for Brooke, and I know God hears me. One of these days everything will work out, and life will make sense.” She hung her head for a moment. “All my life I’ve taught you kids to look for the joy, look for the reason to be happy despite your circumstances. And now . . .” Her voice cracked as she looked up again.

Ashley finished for her. “Now you need us to tell you, right?”

“I guess.”

Ashley met Kari’s eyes, and the two exchanged a look that said they were up to the task. If their mother needed them, they’d be there for her. The same way she’d always been strong for them through every twist and turn in their growing-up years.

“I think this calls for a cup of tea.” Ashley turned and snatched the kettle from the stove top. She filled it with water, turned on the burner, and pulled three of her mother’s delicate china cups from the antique hutch that stood between the kitchen and dining room. “Remember what you used to say?”

Mom couldn’t resist a single short laugh. “Nothing in the world that God and a good cup of tea can’t fix.”

“That’s it.” Kari walked her to the table, and a few minutes later they were talking about Luke’s wedding, doing just what their mother had always taught them.

Look for the good in any situation.

Even one as grim as Brooke’s.

Chapter Seventeen

After a week of putting it off, Ashley and Cole went to visit Brooke and the girls. From the moment they pulled up out front, the visit was difficult. How could it be anything else? Everywhere Ashley looked she could picture her blonde niece, skipping across the grass, playing duck-duck-goose with Maddie and Cole, keeping up in footraces.

The memories inside Brooke and Peter’s home would be just as painful. Ashley held Cole’s hand as they made their way up the walk, but halfway there she stopped and touched her fingertips beneath Cole’s chin. “Don’t forget what we talked about.”

“Okay.” Cole lowered his eyebrows and gave her a serious nod. “Hayley’s still not better even though she’s home.”

“Right.” Ashley was tired, not quite up to the visit. “And she can’t run and play like before. Not until—” she drew a slow breath and found her voice again—“not until she’s better.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Brooke opened the door then, and Ashley was struck by the look on her face. It was peace, perfect peace. Anguish and sorrow and pain, yes. But overriding all of the devastation she’d suffered that season was a peace that shone from the center of her being. “Hi, guys.” She opened the door wider. “Thanks for coming.”

Ashley’s eyes met Brooke’s and held for a moment. They’d talked about this, about how Cole would react since this was the first time he’d seen Hayley since her accident. Now they could only watch it play out.

Cole hugged Brooke and looked past her toward the dining room. “Where’s Maddie?”

“Upstairs.” Brooke roughed up Cole’s bangs and grinned at him. “She’s waiting for you.”

Cole ran his tongue over his lips and shifted his weight from one small tennis-shoed foot to another. “Can I say hi to Hayley first, Aunt Brooke?”

“Yes, honey. She’s at the table. She’s just about to have applesauce.” Brooke stooped down, her hands spread out above her knees. “Come with me, okay?”

Knots formed in Ashley’s stomach, and she hugged herself to ward off the horrible feeling. “Sure, Cole. Let’s go say hi.”

Cole reached back for Ashley’s hand. “Together, okay, Mommy?”

Again Ashley and Brooke exchanged a glance. Cole understood something had changed; he must have. Otherwise he would have run ahead to find Hayley, the way he’d done a hundred times before.

The three of them went to the dining room, and Cole stood back for a moment, clinging to Ashley’s hand, his chin on his chest as he peered at Hayley. She was strapped to a small wheelchair, her head angled sharply to one side. Ashley followed Cole’s gaze as he looked at her hands, hanging small and limp against the wheelchair arms, and as his eyes lifted to her mouth, which hung open.

“I think she’s hungry.” Cole looked at Brooke.

“It’s okay.” Brooke’s eyes glistened some. “She can eat after you say hi.”

One finger at a time, Cole released his hold on Ashley’s hand, and with nervous steps he walked the few feet separating them until he stood in front of Hayley’s wheelchair. Ashley studied her niece, the way her eyes followed Cole. She seemed to notice him. Yes, but there wasn’t a glimmer of recognition. Ashley tapped Cole’s shoulder and nudged him forward, her tone soft so it wouldn’t startle Hayley. “Talk to her, honey. She sees you.”

Cole looked at Ashley over his shoulder. “What do I say?”

His question tore at her heart, and she could only wonder how it made Brooke feel. Ashley gave a quick look at her older sister and searched for the right words. “Pretend she’s healthy, Cole.” Again her voice was a quiet whisper. “That’s the best way to talk to her.”

Cole nodded and pulled himself up a bit taller than before. Then he turned and leaned closer to Hayley. “I’m glad you’re back home, Hayley. I missed you when you were gone.”

A noise gurgled up from Hayley’s throat, and her mouth lifted into a smile.

“Cole! See.” Brooke gave him a half hug from behind. “She likes when you talk to her.”

Ashley was thinking the same thing. Cole looked back at Brooke. “Is it okay if I touch her?”

“Yes, honey.” Brooke brought her fingers to her mouth and hung her head for a moment. “Please, Cole. Go ahead and touch her.”

Hayley was moving her head now, turning it in that slow robotic way from one side of the chair to the other. From past experience, Ashley knew she was about to cry. But the moment Cole reached out and set his fingers on top of Hayley’s hand, she grew still.

“Hayley, can I tell you something?”

The little girl lifted her eyes to Cole’s, and for a moment she looked almost well again.

Cole swallowed big. “I talked to Jesus about you, Hayley.” He worked his fingers around hers and held her hand, the way he’d done so often before her accident, she the little cousin, he the big-brother type. “I asked Jesus to make you better so we can run races again, okay?”

The corners of Hayley’s mouth lifted again, and she uttered a short sound that could’ve passed for a laugh.

“’emember, Hayley?” Cole stuck his thumbs in his ears and waved his fingers at her. It was something he’d seen Helen do at Sunset Hills Adult Care Home, the sign the old woman made to show that one or more of the people at the table with her had perhaps lost their mind. Cole thought the gesture was hysterical. When he’d showed it to Hayley and Maddie a few months ago at the Lake Monroe picnic, both girls had fallen to the ground laughing.

Now, Hayley watched Cole with a look that was more intent than before. When her eyes lifted to see his waving fingers and his thumbs stuck in his ears, she began to laugh. Not a normal laugh, by any means. But a laugh that was more genuine, more like Hayley than anything Ashley had heard since the accident. She glanced at Brooke and knew. Her sister had seen it, too. Something about Cole’s communication was taking Hayley to a cognitive level she hadn’t so far reached.

Encouraged by Hayley’s laughter, Cole kept waving his fingers and making a face, and this time he also pumped his legs and made a goofy circle around Hayley. Once more Hayley reacted, the tone of her laughter changing, becoming more natural with every passing second.

Finally Cole stopped, breathless and grinning. He went to Hayley’s side, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Hayley.”

Her eyes found him, and this time Ashley was sure. Hayley knew him, remembered him. Even through the fog of brain damage the bond between the two was intact. Hayley made a throaty sound, almost as if she wanted to answer him.

Cole patted her on the head and gave her a smile as genuine as it was sweet. “I’m glad you’re okay, Hayley. I’ll come back later and we can play more.”

With that, he flashed a grin at Ashley and Brooke, his hesitancy forgotten, his childlike assessment of his cousin all that the moment needed. Never mind that she wasn’t the same child she’d once been; never mind the distance she had to cover in order to find her way back to that place. The way Cole saw it, if Hayley could laugh at his jokes, she was just fine.

When they could no longer hear his feet pattering up the stairs toward Maddie’s room, Ashley sat across from Hayley, and Brooke, beside her.

Brooke looked at her and lifted her shoulders. Tears filled her eyes, but rather than cry she let loose a laugh that released the tension. “Okay, then.” She dabbed at the wetness on her cheeks. “When he kissed her, I thought I was going to lose it.”

“Me, too.” Ashley sniffed. “I’m glad I brought him.”

“That’s why she’s home.” Brooke drew a long breath and shifted her eyes to Hayley. “So things can start feeling normal again.”

Snow was falling outside, and a vanilla candle burned on the kitchen counter. Brooke began to spoon-feed applesauce to Hayley. “She isn’t stiff anymore; did you notice?” Now that they were sitting across from each other, Ashley could see that Brooke’s eyes looked tired, the lines around her eyes more pronounced than before. But there was no denying the hope in her voice.

“Yes.” Ashley looked at her niece, the way her mouth hung to one side, how her head rested motionless against the back of the wheelchair. The way to feel comfortable around this new Hayley was to never picture the way she’d looked before the accident. Only then could the situation seem positive. “She doesn’t seem like she’s in pain.”

“It’s the medication.” Brooke dipped the spoon into the applesauce and held a small amount near Hayley’s mouth. “They’ve found the right mix of muscle relaxants and antiseizure drugs. It’s been wonderful, really.”

Ashley crossed her legs and managed a smile.
Wonderful?
Wonderful would be the day Hayley could jump down from the wheelchair and run upstairs
with
Cole. The day she could stick her thumbs in her ears and wave her fingers right back at him. But that wasn’t what Brooke needed to hear. “I’m glad, Brooke.” Ashley reached across the table and squeezed Brooke’s fingers. “She’s making strides for sure.”

Brooke nodded and moved the spoon closer to Hayley’s lips. As Hayley felt it, she bobbled her head ever so slightly toward the spoon and opened her mouth wider than before. Brooke eased the spoon past her lips and used the roof of Hayley’s mouth to brush the applesauce off the spoon. Ashley watched the process, aching at how painfully slow it was.

God, she’s in there somewhere. Heal her, Lord . . . please.

A verse flashed in Ashley’s mind, one Pastor Mark had shared with them that past Sunday:
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, to him be glory forever and ever, amen.

Yes, amen, God. That’s exactly what I know you’ll do with Hayley. Immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine.
A sense of peace washed over Ashley’s heart. She could do nothing but believe it was true, that God would continue healing Hayley the same way he continued to work on all of those who loved him.

“Look!” Brooke’s tone was shrill and upbeat. “She’s swallowing, Ash. She’s really doing it. Do you know how huge that is?”

“Wow!” Ashley watched her little niece, the way she made slow smacks with her mouth until the applesauce slid off her tongue down her throat. “Can she drink yet?”

“This morning she took the smallest sip from one of her old sippy cups.” Brooke looked at Hayley, and Ashley was struck by the love in her sister’s eyes. A love stronger than anything she’d shown before the accident. “I’d say she’s at the developmental stage of about a four-month-old.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Ashley was sad again. Glancing up, she could see the kitchen and with it another dozen memories of Hayley jumping up onto the counter to grab a cup for water or running in and snatching two cookies before Brooke could stop her. Hayley had been a sunbeam of light and little-girl laughter, but now . . .

Ashley blinked and the memories disappeared.
God, help me focus . . . help me be positive for all of us.

Brooke set the spoon back in the applesauce and dabbed a napkin at the corners of Hayley’s mouth. She was going on about how great the situation was. “ . . . and her doctors say we should keep seeing improvements for the first two years. Some drowning victims make giant strides, and others make very minimal advancement.” She looked at Ashley again. “But after Hayley got her vision back . . . anything’s possible, Ash. Really. She’s relearning a month of behavior every week to ten days.”

The conversation fell quiet for the most part, Brooke intent on helping Hayley finish at least half the jar of applesauce. When she was done feeding her, Brooke cleaned the child’s nose tube and reinserted it. Ashley could only watch for small moments at a time.

Next, Brooke went to the refrigerator, pulled out a bag of medicine vials, complete with attached clean needles. Expertly, Brooke transferred two vials of medicine into a small tube taped to Hayley’s lower arm.

Ashley marveled at her sister’s ability. She was as gentle and patient as anyone Ashley had ever seen. All while remarking occasionally about how well Hayley looked or how far she’d come or how she was making more sounds lately, trying to remember how to talk.

“You’re trying, aren’t you, Hayley girl?” Brooke nuzzled her nose against Hayley’s.

In return, Hayley made her slow laughing sound.

“That’s right, baby. Mommy knows you want to talk.”

Ashley looked on, amazed. How much her older sister had changed in the past two years. Watching Brooke work with Hayley, seeing in person the light in her sister’s expression, the hope in her voice, Ashley was struck by a thought. Here, before her eyes, was something good that had come out of the disaster of September 11. If it hadn’t been for that awful day, Brooke never would’ve felt driven to come to church, to learn more about God, and eventually to develop a personal relationship with him.

A silent shudder made its way through Ashley. How awful, how desperate the situation with Hayley would’ve been without the hope and joy Christ brought to the picture.

When Brooke was finished, she unstrapped Hayley from the chair, cradled her in her arms, and motioned at Ashley. “Let’s sit in the living room.”

Ashley followed, mesmerized at the way Hayley’s eyes stayed locked on her mother’s face while the two of them sat in an oversized leather recliner. The moment they were situated, Brooke began working Hayley’s right foot, flexing it first up and then out in a series of gentle moves that were obviously a part of some physical-therapy program.

Brooke smiled at Ashley. “What do you hear about Luke and Reagan’s wedding?”

Ashley angled her head, her eyes locked on her sister’s. “Mostly that you’re thinking about staying home.”

“I probably should.” The light in Brooke’s eyes dimmed some. “I won’t have Peter to help me with the girls, and with Hayley, well . . . it might be too much.”

“Can she . . .” Ashley hesitated. She hated asking too many questions about Hayley, in case she hit on an area that might be hard for Brooke. “Can she travel? Is it okay for her?”

“Definitely.” Brooke released Hayley’s foot and began working the left one. “She’s very stable. I would have to keep her in a car seat on the plane, but she’s completely mobile. Anything I do for her here—her meds, her therapy, her feeding tube—all of it can be done somewhere else.” Brooke looked down and cooed at Hayley. “Right, sweetie? You could hit the road anytime, huh?”