Seasons Under Heaven (20 page)

Cathy’s lunch with Steve was fraught with tension. Her children hadn’t embarrassed her yet, but she fully expected their disrespect to manifest itself at any moment.

They were halfway through the meal when Annie fulfilled that expectation. “Mom, can Rick run me home? Allen’s coming to get me, and we’re going out to the lake.”

Cathy didn’t look up as she cut her steak. “No, Annie. I’ll get you home after we eat.”

“But I’m finished.”

“Well, I’m not,” Rick said. “Besides, I’m not running you anywhere.”

“Mom, make him,” she whined. “Allen will be there soon. It’s rude to make him wait.”

“It’s rude to whine at the table,” Rick shot back. “So shut up, will you?”

Cathy shot Steve an apologetic look. He seemed a little embarrassed. Keeping her voice calm, Cathy leaned toward her
children. “Could we refrain from the whining
and
the bickering?” she asked.

“I’m not whining,” Annie said through gritted teeth. “I’m just telling you that I need to go. You don’t need me on your date.”

Mortified, Cathy glanced at Steve again. He was busy cutting Tracy’s meat and acting as if he hadn’t heard. But judging from the sudden hush, Cathy realized that even the people at the next table had heard. “Annie, unless you change your tone and lower your voice, you won’t be going anywhere today. Now close your mouth and wait until we’re finished.”

“Fine.” Annie threw her napkin on the table and slid her chair back. “I’ll just call him and tell him to pick me up here!”

Cathy stared at her as her face turned scarlet. “You can call him, all right, and tell him that you won’t be leaving the house today because you couldn’t control your mouth.” She picked up her purse and dug for some coins. “In fact, I’ll pay for the call.”

“Mom! You can’t do that!”

“Watch me,” Cathy said.

Furiously, Annie stormed from the table.

Cathy wanted to cry. “Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“No problem,” he said, but she could see on his face that it was a big problem.

It grew bigger when Annie didn’t come back to the table. By the time they’d finished the meal and returned to the car, she realized that Annie had left.

“Ten bucks says Allen picked her up,” Rick wagered.

Cathy tried to keep her rage contained as Steve paid the bill.

As the kids got into the cars, Steve lingered behind. “You all right?” he asked.

She thought of lying, but realized he’d see right through her. “No, actually. I’m not. I’ve got to get a grip on her. I’m just so sorry she ruined our lunch.”

“She didn’t ruin it,” he said. “It was still nice.”

“Be honest,” she said. “It was the most expensive fiasco you’ve ever experienced.”

“Not true,” he maintained. He glanced into his truck at Tracy. “Well, I’d better get Tracy home. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

She knew better than that. “Yeah. See you later.”

When they had pulled out of the parking lot, Cathy looked over at Rick. “Well, that was a nightmare.”

“Not my fault,” Rick said. “Annie was the brat. In fact, if you don’t ground her up one side and down the other, there’s just no justice.”

Cathy drove in silence until they got home. She hurried into the house. Annie wasn’t home. Her church clothes were puddled on the floor of her room where she’d stepped out of them, so Cathy knew she hadn’t been kidnapped at the restaurant.

“She went to the lake, Mom,” Mark said. “She does whatever she wants to.”

“Rick? Mark?” Both boys looked at her.

“Yeah?”

“Leave the parenting to me, thank you. I’ll be in my room. Let me know if your sister comes home.”

Then she marched to her room and slammed the door behind her. Throwing herself on the bed, she wondered where she’d gone wrong.

School started the last week of August, and Brenda came home from the hospital early that first morning to get the kids ready. They were nervous and full of questions about what was going to happen. She had already done what she could to make the transition to public school easier on them, arranging for Leah and Rachel to be put in the same classroom and for Daniel to be placed in several of Mark Flaherty’s classes. Knowing that none of the three would be totally alone gave her some peace of mind.

She tried to sound excited as she packed their lunches. “Won’t this be great? Instead of listening to me all day, you’ll get to hear other teachers. And all those new friends you’ll make…”

The kids were quiet. “What if people make fun of us because we’ve never been to school before?” Rachel asked.

“They won’t. And if they do, when they see how smart you are, they’ll stop.”

“Mom, can’t we wait until Joseph comes home and you can homeschool again? We’ll work hard to catch up.”

“I promise, when things have settled down, we’ll start back. But just in case this takes longer than I think, I want you learning. It’ll be a good experience. Trust me.”

As she drove her kids to their respective schools and made sure they got through the paperwork of registration, she hoped she hadn’t asked them to trust her in vain.

With every day that passed, Brenda tried to assure herself that they were one day closer to getting a heart for Joseph. But it was a thin, fragile slice of hope, for Joseph was declining daily. He spent much of the time sleeping, and twice his blood pressure slipped so low that she thought they were going to lose him.

The only color left in his complexion was the sickly gray of his freckles. He didn’t get up anymore, even to go to the bathroom, so they had inserted a catheter. Monitoring his urination made them aware that his kidneys were beginning to lose their function, too.

The doctors moved Joseph into cardiac intensive care but allowed Brenda to stay with him, since she was able to take some of the burden off the nurses, who had other patients to watch. At night, David would sit with Joseph while Brenda visited with her other children in the waiting room. Taking their cue from their mother, they tried to paint a happy face on their stories about school, but Brenda could see that this crisis had taken its toll.

The fact that they were close to selling the house didn’t help her spirits, either. One couple had looked at it three times and had assured David that they would be back in touch soon. In all, he had shown the house at least a dozen times. The pressure that put on the kids to keep it spotless was almost cruel, but she knew there was no way around it.

In her despair, she turned to God for comfort, but found herself praying incessantly for the heart that would save her son. God seemed to be saying “no,” and she couldn’t understand it.

One Monday morning, Dr. Robinson came into Joseph’s area and asked her to get in touch with David because he needed
to meet with both of them. As she called her husband, her heart deflated.

When Harry and Sylvia came to sit with them during their meeting with Dr. Robinson, Brenda knew that this was going to be the prepare-yourselves speech. She leaned on David as they went in, and trembled as they sat down. Sylvia sat on the other side of her, holding her hand.

“Brenda, David,” Dr. Robinson began in a soft, gentle, apologetic tone. “I know it doesn’t surprise you to know that Joseph is declining. You saw his blood pressure this morning. You know about his kidney function. We’ve done as much as we can, and we’re going to keep doing it. If his kidneys don’t rebound by tomorrow, we’re going to put him on dialysis. Even as we speak, we’re adjusting his medications. We’re doing everything we can to keep him alive.”

“But?” David prompted, waiting for what seemed inevitable.

“But…” The doctor glanced at Harry, who looked very tired, as if he, too, had been losing sleep over Joseph. “But we may not succeed. We’re hoping to get a heart in time. Joseph’s at the top of the list. We could get a match at any time. But if we don’t…I’m afraid there may not be much more we can do for him.”

Brenda wilted against David.

“But that Heart Mate was a bridge,” David insisted. “It was supposed to keep him alive…until…”

“It has its limitations,” Dr. Robinson said. “Most of the time, we have good luck with it. But in Joseph’s case—”

“The dialysis,” Brenda cut in. “Won’t it help? Won’t it get the poisons out of his body and make his heart work better?”

“It will filter out some of the toxins,” Harry said. “And it might make him feel better, for a time.”

“Then we can keep doing it,” she said. “Just as much as we need to.” She looked at David, who still looked stunned. “I don’t care about the cost. We’re selling the house. We can sell our furniture, our cars…anything. If the dialysis can make him feel better, and keep him alive…”

“It’s his heart,” Dr. Robinson cut in gently. “That’s the main problem. His heart may not make it.”

Brenda doubled over, covering her face with both hands as she wept into them. Sylvia embraced her and began to weep with her. David sat as still as a statue, staring at the air.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Robinson said. “I don’t want you to give up hope. But I’ve found that it makes it easier when the parents know what to expect. When they have time to prepare themselves.”

“I can’t prepare myself for this,” David whispered in a thick, broken voice. “I’ll never be prepared.”

“We’re still praying for a heart,” Sylvia told them. “It’s not over yet. God still hears. His timing is perfect.”

Brenda didn’t voice the questions swirling in her mind: Why was God waiting when Joseph was so sick? Why was someone so young and bright and innocent so close to death? She tried to remember the last time she’d had a prayer answered, but it seemed so long ago. All of her prayers lately had been about Joseph—or David. None of those prayers had been answered, and now her heart demanded to know why. How long would it take for God to save Joseph?

“How long?” David asked, still wooden. “If he doesn’t get a heart, how long has he got?”

Brenda looked up, trying to read the exhaustion and dread on the doctor’s face. “A few days at the most,” he said.

“
A few days?
” She collapsed into Sylvia’s arms again, then pulled away and turned to her husband. “Oh, David.” He opened his arms to her and held her as she cried, but he was so rigid, so quiet, that she feared what might be going through his mind.

It had to be even worse than what was going through hers. Anger, confusion, despair—what were they going to do with all these feelings?

When they got back to Joseph’s room in ICU, there was no change. David wanted to stay with him, so Brenda went out to the waiting room, where Sylvia was waiting.

“How is he?” Sylvia asked.

“Terrible,” she said. “Asleep.”

“No. I meant David.”

Brenda shook her head and sat down next to her friend. “David is…stone cold and silent. I can see the anger brewing inside. I think that, for the first time, David
wants
to believe in God—so he can lash out at Him.” She met Sylvia’s eyes. “I understand that feeling, Sylvia. I’ve been doing a little lashing on my own. Why won’t God answer this prayer? Why won’t He heal my baby?”

“He will, Brenda. One way or another, He will.” She breathed a deep sigh. “I’ve asked Him the same questions myself over the last few weeks,” she said. “When I’ve been out trying to raise money for Joseph. I’ve asked, ‘Why won’t You send the money they need? Why does it all have to be so hard? Why can’t just part of this turn out right, to encourage them?’”

“I appreciate all you’ve done,” Brenda said, wiping her eyes. “I know that your efforts, and Cathy’s and Tory’s, are going to make such a difference. I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you.”

“Thank you, but that’s not what I was getting at,” Sylvia said. “Brenda, when I’ve prayed those things, the Lord has reminded me that things
are
working out. Let’s not forget the answered prayers, the blessings…”

Brenda closed her eyes and tried to think of what those blessings were. “Blessings. Let’s see…”

“How about Dr. Robinson? Hasn’t he been a good doctor?”

“Yes. And Harry. He’s been a huge blessing. And so have you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“What else?”

“The time with Joseph. Every minute. When he’s been awake, we’ve talked and played games…I’ve never
had
time alone with Joseph. He’s always had three siblings competing for his time. It’s been good.”

“Anything else?”

Brenda thought for a moment, then a sad smile stole across her face. “You know what this reminds me of? A few months ago, the day of Joseph’s birthday party, when he collapsed for the first time, we sat in the doctor’s office and played a game.
He had to pretend he had a million dollars and spend every cent. The things he came up with were so sweet.”

Sylvia’s eyes lit up. “Then pretend you can have a million blessings—anything you want. What would they be? Just think of the snapshots of those blessings.”

“A heart for Joseph,” she said without thinking. “One that works.” She paused. “Snapshots. Joseph on his bicycle. Joseph hugging the dog. A family portrait when the kids are grown—all four of them, not just three.” Her gaze lowered, and she tried to think of more. “But if he dies, those snapshots will be so different.”

“What will they be?” Sylvia asked, taking her hands and making her look at her. “Not the loss, the sorrow—what’s the blessing?”

Brenda paused, forcing her mind by sheer power of will to see her situation from a different angle. “Reunion,” she said finally. “In heaven. When I get there, and Joseph comes running, with Jesus right behind him. And the love he’s brought to our lives, that you can’t put in a snapshot, but it’s there, in our family. It won’t ever die. That will be one of the blessings.”

“And the friends who’ve been praying for you and loving you,” Sylvia said. “Hasn’t that meant something?”

“Yes,” Brenda said. “It has. I just…I want them to see that God does still answer prayer.”

“Don’t you think He does?”

She wasn’t sure. “It’s just like I’ve told you before. I want this to be answered a certain way. But I know God may have another plan. And I don’t want Joseph to suffer. I want to put him into God’s hands. I just don’t know how.” She broke down, and Sylvia hugged her again. “Pray for me, Sylvia. Pray that I’ll be able to lay Joseph in God’s arms, and trust Him to do the perfect thing. Even if it hurts me. Even if it hurts all of us. Right now, I feel like if I lose my focus, Joseph will die. If I close my eyes and sleep, he’ll slip away. If I go downstairs to eat, he won’t be there when I get back.” She got to her feet. “Even now, it makes me crazy sitting out here, knowing that he could breathe his last breath.
I feel like his living depends on something I can do. But in my heart, I know better. Pray that I’ll trust God about Joseph, Sylvia. Pray that I’ll have enough faith to let go.”

“I have been all along, sweetheart,” Sylvia said. “And I think that prayer is being answered as we speak.”