Waiting for Daybreak (17 page)
Unless . . .
Monday evening after work, Paige sat on the bench in her mother’s garden, index cards in hand.
Matthew 17:20—“I tell you
the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to
this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing
will be impossible for you
.”
“Okay God, my faith may only be the size of a mustard seed, but You say that’s enough. Please, heal my mother.”
What did a mustard seed look like, anyway? She was pretty sure she remembered from past Sunday school lessons that they were quite small. Surely she had more faith than that; a mustard seed didn’t sound like much.
But . . . if that’s all it took, why weren’t more miracles happening today? Surely lots of people had a mustard seed of faith.
She looked at the grass, already turning green because of the unusual summer-like weather they were experiencing here in early April. New growth. New life. Would there be new life for her mother?
She hoped so.
Wait, there was a story somewhere about a man who didn’t have enough faith, and he asked Jesus for enough to help him. Right? Where was that?
She went back into the house, fired up the computer, and searched for what she needed. Ah yes! In Mark 9, the father brought his sick son, who had a convulsion right there in front of Jesus. The father asked Jesus if He could do anything to help.
“ ‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for him who
believes.”
Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me
overcome my unbelief!”
And Jesus healed the boy. Yeah, maybe this little sequence was a good one to write on a card, too. Paige decided to condense it to verse 24:
“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief !”
She wrote it on her index card and started back outside to continue her dialogue with God.
The phone rang as she slid the door open. She considered letting the machine answer, but what if it was her parents? “Hello.”
“Thought I’d drive up there and hang out with you next weekend. What do you say, you up for it?”
“Rachelle?”
“You have to ask?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Even for the ever-perky Rachelle, this voice was way too bright. “You can tell me what’s wrong right now and save yourself a five-hour drive.”
“Nothing’s wrong, and I love to drive. You know me—the need for speed, the wind in my face, all that.”
“Did I mention that the last two hours are on two-lane highways, frequented by slow-moving tractors? Did I mention we’re in the middle of a heat wave, with humidity that feels more like July than April?”
“Ick.” The line went quiet for a moment while Rachelle absorbed that little piece of news. “So that’s why I haven’t come to see you yet.” She twittered a laugh. “Well, slow-moving traffic is good, too. And as for the heat wave, it’s not like Atlanta’s any better, it’s supposed to be downright torrid here this week. No, I’m coming. I’ve been saying I was going to since you moved. It’s high time I check the place out, make sure you’re maintaining it to your parents’ standards, you know.”
“Will you please unload? I don’t want to spend the rest of the week worrying about what’s wrong.”
“Relax. There’s not a thing wrong with me. Just need a little girl fun, that’s all.”
Ah. Must be man trouble. This we can handle.
“Girl fun it is.”
“I’ll drive over Saturday morning. How about giving me directions to your pharmacy? I’ll come in there, check the place out, and get the keys to your house. I still make the best grilled burgers in the known free world, so I’ll have dinner ready when you get home.”
“All right, then. But when you come into the pharmacy, there’s something you need to keep in mind.”
“Such as?”
“Nobody here knows much, uh, about . . . my time in Georgia.”
“You’re kidding.” Her pitch broke sound barriers. She was most definitely uptight about something.
“Well, it’s not like I walk around looking for someone to tell about it, and no one’s ever asked. So . . . anyway. Just make sure you don’t say anything in front of anyone, okay?”
“Not exactly the kind of thing I would bring up in casual conversation. Still, are you telling me your boss doesn’t even know about it?”
“You know I really needed this job.”
Rachelle made a clicking sound with her tongue, a sure sign there was more to say. “Well, I’ll see you in a few days.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Paige refused to acknowledge the little pang of guilt that Rachelle’s questions had awakened in her. She’d done what she had to do, that’s all there was to it.
She hung up the phone and bounced onto the sofa. One of the lingering aftereffects of the whole Atlanta mess was the separation from her friends. The telephone and Internet were not the next best thing to being there, no matter what the commercials said. Whatever the problem that was bringing Rachelle to her, Paige couldn’t wait.
Tuesday morning, Clarissa sat working at the desk, desperately searching for a way out of this legal mess, when the pharmacy phone rang. She got up to go answer it, but Paige had already picked it up.
“Richardson Apothecary.” She turned her face toward the wall and spoke in a quiet voice. “Tony, hi.”
A blade sliced clear through Clarissa. What did Tony think he was doing? He said he’d come here just to make certain everything was okay for Clarissa, right? He was just checking up, that’s all. Besides that, he’d obviously been out Saturday night; he was definitely not calling here because he wanted to talk to Paige.
Cory came strutting through the door but stopped to hold it open for a little lady on her way out. He said something to her that had her twittering like a schoolgirl as she left the store. The boy knew how to charm, that much was sure.
Clarissa sashayed down to meet him, taking care to swing her hips just enough to draw his attention, but not enough to make it obvious what she was doing. She managed to intercept him just before the pharmacy counter. “Cory, what brings you here?”
“Oh, you know,” he looked toward Paige then back at Clarissa, “just checking in with you ladies.” He shifted on his feet just a little. “I, uh, need to talk to Paige.”
No, you really don’t.
“Really? She’s on the phone with my uncle Tony, is there any way I could help you?” She smiled and moved a step closer. “We haven’t had a chance to . . . talk in a while. How are things going with you?”
Cory looked over her head toward Paige, who leaned against the counter, her back to them. “Just fine. I’ve been really busy.” Paige’s soft laughter filtered through the air at just the right time. Cory’s eyes narrowed. Bull’s-eye.
Whatever else Tony might be doing, he was at least putting Cory in his place. “Do you want me to give her a message?”
“Um, nah. I guess not. I’ll just talk to her later.” He turned and walked away without a backward glance.
Clarissa went back up into the dispensing area and smiled at Paige as she hung up the phone. “Was that my uncle Tony calling you?”
A faint blush colored Paige’s cheeks. “I think he’s just bored.” She smiled in spite of her words.
“So, have you two been talking lately?” Nothing good could come of that.
“A little.”
“A little?” Clarissa intentionally put a teasing tone into her voice. Better to keep things light.
“He came by Saturday and we went to dinner.”
He did what?
This was not possible. No way would Tony do that to her. No wonder he’d been so secretive when they talked Saturday night. While she was getting served papers, he’d been out on the town with the person who was ruining her life. “Funny, I don’t remember hearing you mention that yesterday.”
“I . . . guess I didn’t.”
I guess not
. “You going out again?”
Paige shrugged. “I don’t know. He asked about this Saturday, but I’ve got a friend coming to town.”
“That’s too bad.” She knew the attempt at a light voice was failing.
“Did I just see Cory in here?”
Why don’t you rub that in my face now, too? You know he came
to see you.
“Yeah. He was just checking about some medicine.”
Paige looked from Clarissa to the door. “That’s odd. I just filled his mom’s stuff last week.”
“Who knows?”
The morning went on, busy but not overly so. A man arrived wearing a uniform and carrying a couple dozen pink roses. “Delivery for Paige Woodward.”
Paige walked over to the counter, feigning surprise.
What a
little fake. Tony probably told her he was sending them
.
“Thank you.” She walked back, carrying the humongous bouquet in her arms, grinning like a schoolgirl.
Clarissa flipped her hair over her shoulder and tried to look bored. “Tony’s going a little overboard. Look at those things, they must have cost a fortune.”
Paige pulled out the card, put a hand over her mouth, and pretended to stifle a gasp. “They’re not from Tony. They’re from Cory. He wants me to go to lunch with him.” She shook her head and looked at the flowers. “I wish he hadn’t done that.”
“What, you don’t like him?”
“I like him fine, but these cost a lot of money. All he had to do was ask.”
Clarissa watched Paige flounce over to the mirror and check her hair. She always pretended to be so innocent, but she knew exactly what she was doing.
The pharmacy line rang four times before Dawn realized Clarissa must be busy elsewhere and answered. “Richardson Apothecary, may I help you?”
“This is Carla at Dr. Micheel’s office. I need to call in a prescription.”
“Just one minute, please.” Dawn put the phone on hold and called to Clarissa. “It’s a doctor’s office, new prescription.”
Clarissa emerged from the back of the shelves, cell phone in hand. “So, take it. I’m in the middle of something.”
Was she joking? Dawn watched, waiting for the punch line. It didn’t come. “You told me I couldn’t take call-ins anymore, remember?”
“Just for today, I’ve changed my mind.” Clarissa put the cell back to her ear, then pulled it away. “Um, don’t take it in cursive, print it, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll double-check everything.”
Dawn picked up the phone. “Go ahead, I’m ready.” As she wrote the order for prednisone, ten milligrams, QD, a strange surge of power flowed through her. Clarissa thought enough of her to let her take a phoned prescription. She knew Paige was too uptight to trust her that much. At least Clarissa saw some value in her.
When Clarissa finally got off the phone, she walked over and picked up the prescription that Dawn had just written out. “That’s perfect. It’s even spelled correctly.” Clarissa started working on refills and said no more about it, but she hummed and smiled the whole time.
As soon as Paige returned from lunch, Clarissa reached into the drawer and pulled out her purse. “I’m going to lunch now.” She threw the purse over her shoulder, then pushed the prescription Dawn had taken as a call-in across the counter. “Paige, would you mind finishing this one for me? I’ve been too busy working on refills.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” Clarissa said and when she smiled, it was too big, too wide. Dawn didn’t know what was happening, but she was just glad not to be Paige right now.
On Friday, Paige could feel the bulge in her lab coat pocket, packed tight with a stack of index cards. She pulled out the pale lavender card at the top.
Jeremiah 32:17—Ah, Sovereign Lord,
you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and
outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you
. Nothing was too hard for Him, including getting her mother through this day. Today, more than any she could remember, she wanted so badly to be in Houston with her parents. If she walked out the door right now and started driving, she could be there by tomorrow.
“Can someone help me find the right cough medicine for my son?” A tired-looking woman of about thirty stood at the counter in a wrinkled T-shirt and pajama bottoms.
Paige went down to meet her. “Sure, I’ll help. Walk with me over to the cough and cold aisle, and tell me about your son.”
“We haven’t slept for three nights. The kid is hacking until all hours. I can’t take another night of this.” The woman rubbed her face with both hands. “Give me the strongest thing you’ve got.”
“Does he have a sore throat? A fever? Does his cough sound wheezy or barky?”
“No to all the above, just a constant hacking.”
“How old is he?”
“Seven.”
“Paige, call for you,” Clarissa called from behind the counter.
As Paige picked up a bottle of cough medicine and held it out to the woman, she could feel her fingers starting to sweat. She wanted to run behind the counter and grab the phone right now. Somehow, she forced herself to stay put. “Give him a teaspoonful of this every six hours. Give your doctor’s office a call if he doesn’t get better soon.”
“Thank you.”
Paige called, “You’re welcome” over her shoulder as she rushed toward the phone.
“At least it’s someone besides Tony this time.” Clarissa shrugged as Paige stepped back behind the counter to answer. Something in her voice sounded sad, but Paige didn’t have time right now.
Paige put the phone to her ear. “This is Paige.”
“Well, baby girl, today was a big day—” Her father’s voice broke, the squeaky intake of breath the only sign he was crying.
Paige waited quietly for him to gain control. She knew he hated to lose it like this. She counted out capsules for a refill that was waiting, glad to keep her hands busy while her mind screamed for news. Finally she whispered out the words, “Day zero, right?”
“It was so much more than that.” Again, he stopped speaking, but this time continued after a deep breath. “Today was her last radiation treatment, too.”
“Right. That’s a big thing to check off the list.”
“Even better than the day they stopped those tent treatments for her RSV. You know what they do in radiation when it’s a patient’s last treatment? The nurses have a bell they ring. You can hear it in the waiting room, so everyone out there knows that someone just finished up. When your mother came walking out the door, everyone in that entire waiting room clapped. I mean, there were people sitting out there missing all sorts of body parts, most of them hairless, and yet they still rejoiced for one of their own. . . .” Her father’s voice choked into silence. The sounds of quiet sobs came from the other end of the phone. It was the second time Paige had ever known him to cry. The first was the day her mother was diagnosed.