The Heart of Memory (8 page)

Nick knocked on Shaun’s door at five o’clock. Shaun felt the tremble start in his hands as he waved him in. He began to clean up the mess of papers on his desk to give them something to do for a moment. “Hey, Nick, take a seat.”

Nick sat just in time to catch the container of pens that teetered off the back edge of Shaun’s desk when it was pushed by a mound of paper. “Didn’t get a chance to ask you today, how’s Savannah?”

“Ah — still hanging in there. Thanks for asking,” he said with a terse smile. Why did Nick have to be such a nice guy? “Nick, I — I’m going to just get right down to it, and I hope you’ll forgive me for not giving you a little more warning. With Savannah and all, I’ve been a bit distracted, but I knew I had to get on with this.” He cleared his throat, clutched his trembling hands out of sight in his lap. “You’re the accountant, so you know that our budget is tight, and this economy is struggling.” Nick nodded along with him, a politely curious look on his face. “You haven’t been here long, and I know I never went over with you the trends in giving this organization has seen since its inception ten years ago, but I’m confident, unfortunately, that the resource and book purchases are going to continue to decrease as our economy continues to struggle. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I’m a stock-market-playing kind of guy, and I make it my job to know what the market is doing so I know how to best invest and sell. Everything is pointing to things getting much worse before they get any better.”

Nick cocked his head. “Really? I thought things were already starting to get better.”

Shaun shook his head. “No. It looks that way on the surface, but the foundation of the market is cracking. Point being, we as a ministry need to start planning now, while we’re still in the black and not in crisis mode. We need to prepare for the day our giving and sales drop off so we can stay afloat. I’ve been trying to think of ways we can tighten our belts here, start stashing more into our savings, and one of the ways I can help make that happen is by taking on more responsibilities. One of the jobs I’m qualified to do here is the accounting.”

Understanding dawned in Nick’s eyes. “Ah … I see.”

“You’ve done an excellent job in the short time you’ve been here, Nick, and I can’t tell you how awful I feel letting you go. But we’ll give you a month’s severance and a glowing recommendation, which I hope will get you back into the job force somewhere soon.” Shaun slid a confidentiality notice across the now-cleared desk, then held out a pen to Nick. “I’ll stay late; you can take whatever time you need to clean out your desk.”

Nick’s expression clouded as he took the pen. “Oh, so — today?”

Shaun held his gaze steady. “I’m afraid so.”

Nick studied the confidentiality notice for a moment, then opened his mouth as though to speak, but quickly shut it again and signed. “I’m sorry I won’t get to see Savannah before I leave. Please let her know Christy and I are praying for her.”

“Christy?”

“My girlfriend.”

Dang it.
“Oh. Well, thank you, to you and Christy, and I will definitely let Savannah know.” He stood and shook Nick’s hand before he left, then waited for the door to close and Nick to disappear from view before vomiting his lunch into the trash.

T
HREE DAYS LATER, THE LAPTOP
and the book both lay forgotten on the table beside her bed. She spent most of her time sleeping now, partly to escape the pain that was worsening in her torso, but mostly because she simply couldn’t stay awake.

Her mind was having a heyday, however, playing out in dreams all the things she couldn’t do in reality. This time it was a marathon. She’d never run a marathon before, never even had the inclination, but here she was, flying past the cheering crowds that lined the street in some nameless city. They were shouting her name in unison, urging her on; she could see the ribbon stretched across the lanes in the distance.
Van. Van. Van.

“Van? Van? Hey, babe, it’s me. Wake up.”

The scene faded away as Savannah came back to consciousness in slow motion, her senses awakening one at a time. She opened her eyes and saw not only Shaun, but the cardiologist as well. Neither knew how to keep their thoughts off their faces.

She smiled at Shaun and lifted a finger in greeting. “Hey.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Shaun kissed her forehead. “Hey, babe. I’m sorry to wake you up, but Dr. Wells wanted to talk to us; I knew you’d want to hear everything firsthand.”

She nodded, then raised her brows at the doctor whose lousy poker face made her aching heart sink. “Your face … gives you away.”

He gave her a faint smile. “One of these days I’ll have to take an acting class.” He held her file, which had grown thick in the five days since she’d been admitted, but didn’t look through it like he usually did as he spoke. “I wish I had better news—or at least an explanation. But I don’t. Your body just isn’t responding like we’d expected to the medications. Your ejection fraction is still dropping; the last reading was 18%. For it to get back up to 60% now would be a miracle; I’ve never seen a recovery that major. We think it’s time for a transfer to University Hospital up in Aurora.”

Savannah felt Shaun’s hand tighten around hers. The sound of his breathing changed; she knew he was fighting back tears. She tried to squeeze back and hoped he could feel her feeble attempt.

“They’re very experienced there; you’ll be in excellent hands. They’ve got more resources for this kind of illness than we do; and if you need a transplant, they can get you on the list and handle the surgery. Your nurse will be in with the transfer paperwork shortly; once we get that done we’ll get you into an ambulance and they’ll take you up.” He looked to Shaun, then Savannah. “Do you have any questions?”

Questions?
Savannah wanted to laugh. Of course she had questions. But she didn’t have the mental strength to line them all up. She looked up to Shaun. Shaun coughed then said with a strangled voice, “What are the chances … I mean, how long will it be before she gets a new heart?”

“They’ll be able to give you that kind of information in Aurora.”

“Will a new heart fix everything?”

The doctor’s face brightened. “It should, yes. That’s the source of all the trouble right now. If we get that fixed, you should be good as new, barring any rejection complications. I don’t know the stats on that, either — another question Aurora can help you with. But they’ll go over all that with you when you get there.”

Dr. Wells took Savannah’s hand. “I’m sorry things are working out this way, Savannah. You’ve been a pleasure to work with. Come back and visit us when you’re back to your old self.” He nodded to them both, then left.

Shaun sank into the chair beside her. “It’s not like we didn’t see it coming. But having it all official …” He coughed again, his way of covering for his breaking voice. She squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed back, which made her smile. “Okay, time for the really awkward conversation.” He looked up from his lap, but still not into her eyes. “It’s been ten years since we looked at our will, Savannah. We should do that … soon.”

She blinked at him. “Seriously? Don’t jinx things!”

“I’m not jinxing them; I just want to make sure we’re prepared. It’s the Boy Scout in me. Our life now is nothing like it was a decade ago; we need to account for that, make sure everything is covered. Think of it this way—if we do it, we won’t need it, right? It’s a law of nature. You prepare for the worst so that the worst doesn’t happen.”

She turned her head away, her gaze going to the unremarkable view beyond her second-floor window. She knew in her heart he was right, but still, the thought of making those kinds of preparations … actually, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she should probably make some other preparations as well. Just in case.

“Memorial service, too. So we don’t need it.”

“Oh, Van.” Shaun’s voice cracked. She took his hand as tears came to her own eyes. She didn’t have the strength to fight them back, or to even cry them out. They slipped down her cheeks, and she conjured the image of her dream, her body bounding through the street, her hair long—though she’d had it short for years — flowing behind her. She imagined handing the dream to God as she prayed, flat-out begging that this not be the end.

CHAPTER 5

S
HAUN POPPED ANOTHER PRETZEL IN HIS MOUTH AS HE SAT AT
the red light. They were stale, but washed down with water they weren’t too bad. He’d found them that morning in the back of the pantry, a forgotten snack from the Fourth of July picnic he and Jessie had thrown while Savannah had been on tour. Lately he’d been skipping both breakfast and lunch, but he’d worked up an appetite helping Jessie pack up her car that morning. She’d been torn on whether or not to go back to campus, but he’d insisted she leave, since they had no idea when a heart might become available. “No use sitting around here,” he’d said. “Might as well go and keep yourself busy.”

He hadn’t admitted how jealous he was that she had somewhere to go, an excuse for not going up to the hospital every day to do nothing but read and watch TV while Savannah wasted away on the bed beside him. It was depressing, to be honest. Depressing and scary. When she was awake—which wasn’t often — she was confident God wasn’t ready to take her yet. He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear God had told her that himself. He could see in her eyes that she had changed, had tapped back into that connection with him that Shaun had never really had. He was a little jealous.

The drive from A&A’s office, where he spent the mornings, to the hospital in Aurora took nearly an hour and a half. Savannah tried to talk him into getting a hotel room and working remotely, but he couldn’t bear to spend the money — though the gas wasn’t all that much cheaper. Instead, he did everything he needed to do in the mornings, foregoing business and staff meetings since he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, and then went to the hospital in the afternoon to wait for good news.

He was late today, however. He’d left work at lunch, like always, then had headed for home to scrape together some lunch from what was left in the fridge and pantry. He’d been slowed by a funeral procession that crossed in front of him at a stoplight, and the view of the hearse was like a kick to the solar plexus.

He’d been doing pretty well up until then. He had so much else to worry about—the medical bills, the fact that they had no savings, the email threats he was getting—that he’d been able to effectively lose himself in those issues and not confront the fact that his wife was dying. But as the gray car slid past him, his fear of losing Savannah and the pain he’d been burying erupted to the surface. As the slow parade of cars drove through the intersection, he choked out sobs that shook his whole body and left his throat raw.

The uncorking of his emotions sent him into a tailspin. He couldn’t get a grip. A life without Savannah … it was unfathomable. No one could ever love him like Savannah did. And no one in the world was like her. No one made him laugh so hard or love so much. Everything he did was for her, and he liked it that way. And after twenty-two years of marriage, he still thought she was as sexy and beautiful as she’d been when they’d met in college. Without her, the capstone of his world was gone. Everything would crumble to dust.

Once home, he stood in the shower and prayed aloud in the steam, alternately begging God for Savannah’s life and railing at him for the mess he found himself in. When the water went cold, he forced himself to dress and find food, though all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a week. He just had too much to face, too much to worry over and try to solve. Too much he could do nothing about. The thought of escape was bliss, though what form of escape he was unable to let himself ponder. Too many details and he might actually attempt it.

Back at the hospital he pulled into the parking lot and checked his reflection in the rear view mirror. The shower had removed the outward traces of his breakdown, but he wondered if the ever-perceptive Savannah would see it in his eyes.

He let himself daydream, as he crossed the blacktop to the hospital doors, about what it would be like when they finally got The Call. How hope would bring the light back to Savannah’s weary face, how he would be fully consumed — for the meantime, anyway — by the fact that his wife would soon be back to normal. He hadn’t thought much about what that day would be like. It actually made him smile.

The one problem was that the good news they were hoping for would soon be irrelevant. With her condition declining at this rate, Savannah would eventually be too sick to withstand the stresses of the surgery. It was a race against time now, a race he didn’t usually acknowledge because the reality of it was too much to shoulder. He knew Savannah was convinced a heart would come in time, but God sure was cutting it close.

He was halfway to the elevator when his phone
dinged
to alert him of an incoming email. He tapped a button, then glanced at the screen and nearly choked on a pretzel.
No, no, no …

He slumped against the wall and stared at his inbox, his stomach roiling with anxiety. He didn’t want to open the email, but he was afraid not to. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he muttered through clenched teeth. Did this woman not pay any attention to the news? Savannah’s story had been all over the local media this past week; certainly she knew what he was dealing with.

Unless that’s the point— she knows she has me over a barrel.

He shook his head and exited the email program, then pocketed the phone. It didn’t matter either way; he couldn’t do anything about it now.

Savannah was actually awake when he arrived. He thought she looked a little better—not much, but a little — but it might have just been wishful thinking. “Hey, babe, sorry I’m late,” he said, then kissed her forehead as he prayed she didn’t see the worry in his face. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Jessie gone?”

“Left this morning, yes — but she made me promise to call her if we wanted her to come. She almost didn’t go, but I made her.” Savannah nodded her approval. “Can I do anything for you?”

She shook her head. “Gonna sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll be here until tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, and sleep seemed to take her immediately. He was jealous of that, too. Half his night was spent staring at the ceiling.

Shaun reached into the bag where he’d stashed his book, sack dinner, and the mail from the last three days. He removed the latter, all rubber-banded together thanks to a conscientious Jessie. It had been piling up on the counter because he hadn’t had the energy to go through it, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. Might as well go through it now while Savannah slept.

He threw out the sales flyers and business ads, then wasted some time thumbing through the Christian ministry magazine that came every month. He couldn’t concentrate on the articles, though he tried; really he just didn’t want to look at what was inside the envelopes that looked like bills. He looked at every article and even read the classifieds in the back before returning it to the bag and drawing a fortifying breath.
It’s just mail, it can’t kill you.
At least not directly.

A new insurance card for the car. The gas bill—lower than usual. So far this wasn’t too bad.

An envelope from their health insurance company. His shoulders sagged. He felt defeated already.

He slowly ripped it open and pulled out the pages. Eight of them in all, filled front and back with a mess of confusing tables and codes and procedure names he couldn’t decipher. The last page ended with a total due to each provider. Their combined total had five digits before the decimal.

His vision began to swim. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so devastated if he hadn’t gotten that email first. But now …

“Babe?”

Savannah’s voice startled him, despite how quiet it was. He sniffed, tried to blink away the tears standing in his eyes. “Hey, I thought you were sleeping.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, babe. I’m fine.” He gave her a smile, but she shook her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, seriously. I’m just … tired. I’m sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to.”

She lifted a hand and he took it in his own. Her eyes were bright despite the rest of her face looking so drawn. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will. I believe you.”

“Believe God.”

He hated that his gut reaction was one of cynicism. “I do, babe. You’re going to be fine. Everything is going to work out, I know.”

She smiled and her eyes drifted shut. He waited until her hand was limp in his, then lowered it back to the bed.

He wanted so badly to believe what he’d said. He wanted to trust that God had a plan that involved Savannah recovering and Shaun winning the lottery, or discovering buried treasure behind the trees in their backyard, or anything that would allow him to finally get out from under the crushing financial struggle that was sucking both him and their bank account dry. But all he felt was despair, and no amount of praying seemed to help.

J
ESSIE FELT LIKE A POSTER CHILD FOR MURPHY’S LAW.

She’d been back on campus for less than 24 hours, and it had been one lousy break after another. For obvious reasons Shaun hadn’t been able to help her move in, so she’d been stuck moving her belongings herself. That in and of itself wouldn’t have been too bad, but because so many others were vying for the moving carts and the elevators were so packed, it had taken her way longer than she’d had time for, given all the details that still needed to be dealt with for the freshman dinner. Then she’d made the mistake of stacking too much on the cart once she got one, and a bump in the sidewalk had sent her desktop computer crashing to the pavement. The accidental damage insurance would take care of it; but she’d have to find time to file the claim—and until that was all sorted she was without her music or internet or email.

With so much time taken up with moving in, she’d had no time to start getting her room in order before having to abandon it for the dinner prep. That meant she had no idea where the shoes were that matched the outfit she’d planned on wearing that night, or where her bathroom caddy was so she could shower before the evening’s event. And apparently she had “customer service representative” tattooed on her forehead, because any time she ventured outside her room she got stopped by a freshman or parent asking her questions she had no idea how to answer. The resident advisor still hadn’t arrived, and as one of the few upperclassmen in the dorm, she was like a beacon to all the new students who were trying to figure out how to get their beds de-bunked or their computers set up to the internet.

And as if all that weren’t enough to stress her out, her mother was going to die and no one wanted to admit it.

Savannah’s decline since her admittance to the hospital had been frighteningly quick. Jessie had gone back to say goodbye the day before, and her mother had been so weak she could barely hold a conversation. It had only been a handful of days since Jessie had brought Savannah’s laptop to the hospital in the Springs. It was hard to believe someone could deteriorate that fast. It was harder to believe they’d then be able to recover.

And yet Shaun — and Savannah herself — seemed convinced that she would. Jessie wanted to believe them, and to have the same faith they did, but she was unable to muster the confidence they seemed to share. So she checked her phone obsessively to make sure she hadn’t missed a text or call, and found herself unable to concentrate on anything for long before her thoughts turned to funeral plans and wondering how she’d handle the grief once the inevitable occurred.

Jessie shook the dark thoughts from her head and consulted her checklist.
Tablecloths — check. Centerpieces — check. Decorations …
She looked around the gym for the box Adam was to have dropped off. She didn’t see it. She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted him, then checked the next item on the list.
Sundae bar items.
She groaned aloud. She’d forgotten to confirm the sundae bar with The Sweet Shoppe.

Their contact info wasn’t in her phone or on her checklist. Berating herself with mumbled insults, she dropped the checklist on a nearby table and headed for her dorm room.

On the sidewalk outside her dorm’s front door stood a new student and her parents. Tears glistened on all their faces, and she ducked her head in embarrassment when they engaged in a family hug that brought a lump to her throat. As she passed them she overheard the father praying aloud and saw the girl’s head resting on her mother’s shoulder.

Nothing like when I moved in.
Savannah had spent more time talking to people who recognized her from her books and speaking tours than she had with helping Jessie move in. Granted she was less than an hour from home and they all knew they’d see each other often, but not even the milestone of beginning college had created a soft spot in Savannah’s heart. After her boxes had been moved in they’d gone to dinner, where Savannah had dominated the conversation with unsolicited advice about time management and not-so-subtle hints at the kinds of classes she thought Jessie should take.

When the time had come for her parents to leave, she’d gotten a giant hug from Shaun—who also pressed a wad of cash into her hand — and a peck on the cheek from Savannah when she took a break from the list she’d been dictating of activities she thought Jessie should check into. It would have been different if Jessie could have written off the behavior as her mother’s attempt to control her emotions over the thought of her baby girl growing up and moving on in life, but she’d known Savannah too well to even pretend that was the reason. It had been just another example of Savannah wanting to steer Jessie the way she thought she should go, and not taking into account the fact that Jessie had no interest in writing for the school newspaper or trying to join the honor society.