A Test of Faith (8 page)

He knew she wasn’t happy with the way she was. He’d told her over and over she was still beautiful, still desirable. And she was. One of those teasing, playful smiles from her, and his heart rapid-beat almost out of his chest. Still…

He looked out over the vast ocean, watching the waves rise and fall, break and recede on the shore. He listened to the solid pounding of the surf, loving the rhythm, the steady cadence that reminded him all was as it should be. If only he had that confidence with Annie, that she really was doing her best to take care of herself.

When she knew what the diabetes was doing to her, what was at risk, why did she still insist on eating things she shouldn’t? It was as though the very things that could kill her called to her, wooing her, drawing her to embrace them even as they destroyed her body. It scared him. He didn’t want to lose her.

He didn’t say much about it, though. It hurt her too deeply when he seemed to be criticizing her.

“Hey, you lazy bum!”

The saucy challenge pulled him from his thoughts. Anne and Faith stood waving at him on top of one of the craggy rocks they’d been scaling. “What?”

“Why don’t you come up here with us, you handsome devil?”

The breezed tossed Anne’s curls and filled her cheeks with a rosy blush. Even from this distance, he could see the joy on her face. She’d told him tale after tale of her childhood, being a Girl Scout, following trail after trail with the surefootedness of a mountain goat.

“I was born to hike,” she’d said once.

Looking at her now, he believed it.

“How about a walk on the beach, instead?” He looked toward the surf. “I’m guessing there’s a sand dollar or two waiting for us.”

“I get the first one!” Faith followed this declaration by scrambling down from the rock and running along the trail. “Race you!”

Annie was on her daughter’s heels, and their laughter
floated around Jared, filling his ears and his soul.

Yes, this had been a good idea. And if he had to work nights and weekends to pay for it, he didn’t care. All that mattered was his Annie was happy again.

Hours later, they pulled their lunch from the picnic basket, spreading a virtual feast out on the table before them. Their walk along the beach had yielded two sand dollars—one of which was whole and still had the seven “angels” inside it—a pocketful of rocks that Faith had found particularly beautiful, and a tiny dried-up starfish. These treasures were lined along the raised rock wall behind their table, drying in the sun.

“Look, Daddy! Look at the gulls!”

Jared turned to watch Faith rip pieces of bread apart and toss them in the air, where waiting gulls swooped down and caught them with aerobatic ease.

“Greedy things. They’re going to be too fat to fly soon.”

He grinned at Anne’s laughing comment. “They’re not near as greedy as the squirrels.” He nodded toward the bushes covering the ground all around them.

Annie tossed a piece of bread toward the nearest bush, and three squirrels jumped out.

The gulls and the squirrels along with the picnic area that overlooked the beach were what made Harris Beach Jared’s favorite day-trip location. The heavy brush covering the ground was alive with squirrels. They were careful enough not to come too close, but still provided ample entertainment as they begged for morsels of food. Faith called Harris Beach “Squirrel Beach,” and Jared couldn’t argue with her.

Anne came to slide her arms around his waist. “Thanks for suggesting this. It was a great idea.”

He folded her into his embrace. Though they’d been married nearly twenty years, she never ceased to bring a smile to his face—and his heart. “That’s the only kind of ideas I have.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Great ones.”

“Like marrying me, of course.”

His grin widened. “Of course. Though you could hardly resist me, handsome man that I am.”

Anne’s laughter bubbled. “Oh yeah, that was it. I was so
captivated by tall, lanky guys with big ears.”

“Who sat off in corners, singing to themselves. I know, I know.” Jared gave her a swat on the behind.

“Daddy’s spanking Mommy!”

At Faith’s gleeful giggles, Anne pulled away, her cheeks reddening. “Faith, shhh!” She looked around. “People will stare.”

Jared laughed and pulled Faith into a bear hug. “Yeah, squirt. Don’t you know I want to keep your mommy all to my lanky self?”

Faith giggled even harder. “What’s
lanky
mean, Daddy?”

“Tall and skinny.”

The crease in Faith’s forehead made both Jared and Anne laugh. “I used to be skinny, sweetie. When I was younger.” He pulled a muscleman pose. “Now I’m all filled out.”

“Now you’re
just
right.” Faith grabbed one bicep and pushed off of the table to dangle from it.

Jared kept his arm flexed. For all that she was seven now, she was so slim and light that he didn’t have to strain to hold her in the air. “You think so?”

Faith nodded, clearly sincere.

“Come on, you monkey.” Anne caught Faith and lifted her to the bench of the table. “Time to eat.”

The three of them sat and held hands.

“Do you want to pray, Faith?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

They all bowed their heads, and Faith kicked her heels against the picnic bench, starting her prayer in slow, thoughtful words. “Thank You, dear God, for this day. Thank You for this food.” Then, as though thinking up things to be thankful for had fueled her excitement, the rest of the prayer poured out on one breath: “Thank You for the gulls and the squirrels and the sand dollars and Mommy and Daddy and the squirrels and the starfish and the rocks and the ocean and the flowers and the squirrels and the pretty rocks and … and …”

Jared wasn’t sure how he managed to hold back his laughter, but he did. He peeked out of one eye and saw his little girl chewing her lip, thinking hard so she didn’t forget anything.

“Amen?” Anne suggested.

Faith nodded. “Amen!” She let go of their hands and grabbed up a sandwich. “Yum, Mommy! You cook good.”

“Yeah, Mom.” Jared bit into a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. “You cook good.”

“Keep it up and that’s all I’ll cook for the next week.” But the grin on his wife’s face belied the threat, and Jared just smacked his lips.

“Jared!” Anne almost choked on her laughter.

He shrugged. “I’m savoring every luscious bite.” He caught her hand and tugged her close for a peanut-buttery kiss. She buried her face in his neck for a moment, and he realized he’d only been half kidding.

He was savoring something. Every precious moment of this day. Every smile from his wife and daughter. Every tinkle of laughter that rose on the wind. And the sweetness of these things fed his soul, filling him to overflowing.

Yes, it was a good day. A blessed day. And he’d never, ever forget it.

Sunlight streamed in the kitchen window, dancing across the room to caress Anne’s face as she sat at the table, lancet at the ready.

She steeled herself for the prick, grimacing as the tiny needle did its work. Darn her sugars! They’d behaved so well while they were at the coast. She let herself believe they were finally getting under control. But since they came home, she was right back where she’d been before their wonderful getaway.

Out of control.

Amazing how much ground one could lose in seven years. She thought often about how pleased the doctor had been with her during her pregnancy. Lately, anytime she saw him, he looked at her with that grave expression.

Well, what was she supposed to do? It was as though her body was on strike. Nothing she did seemed to help.

She squeezed a drop of blood onto the test strip, then counted off the sixty-second wait. If only she could figure out why her sugars had suddenly gone out of control, fluctuating from sky-high to basement-low. She was feeling the effects of it, too. Sluggish one day, irritable and jumpy the next. It was enough to dread getting out of bed in the mornings.

Even her doctor couldn’t explain it. After her last bout of dangerously low sugars, he’d given her a thorough checkup, then shrugged. “Diabetes is a disease with a mind of its own sometimes.”

Anne’s teeth clenched at the memory. A lot of help that was. No wonder they called it
practicing
medicine.

Of course, though he couldn’t explain or cure the problem, he could add to it. Which he did by telling her to check her blood more often.

So now she got to prick her poor fingers to within an inch of their little lives.

“Mommy?”

Anne turned from the sink where she’d gone to wash the drop of blood from the test strip so she could read it. Faith stood there, worry evident in every angle of her seven-year-old face.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Anne tried to split her focus between Faith and reading the test strip. If she didn’t read it now, she’d have to prick another finger for more blood.

The color showed up. Darn! She’d have to adjust her dose of insulin again.

She tossed the strip in the trash and knelt so she was on eye level with her daughter. Faith’s lower lip trembled. “Mommy … does it hurt?”

Anne brushed back her daughter’s soft, auburn hair. “Does what hurt?”

The little girl’s glance shot to the table, where Anne’s needle waited. Understanding dawned. She held her hand out to Faith, bringing her into the circle of her arms.

“Let me show you something.” Anne took the cap off the needle and held it so Faith could see it, fighting a smile when her little girl leaned away from the offending device. “See? It’s a
really, really thin needle. I don’t even feel it when it goes in.”

Faith leaned forward, her somber face intent. “Really?”

Anne nodded. “Really.” She slid Faith to the floor, showing her how she filled the needle with insulin. Faith watched, eyes round, but when Anne was ready to give herself the shot, Faith put her hand on Anne’s arm.

“Wait, Mommy.”

“It’s okay, honey—”

Faith shook her head. “Not yet.” She moved to lean against Anne’s leg. “I wanna pray first.”

Anne looked down at her daughter.
Oh, Faith … my precious girl
. “Okay, sweetie.”

“Fold your hands and close your eyes, Mommy, like when we pray at bedtime or when you pray for me when I get hurt.”

Anne obeyed, bending her head until her forehead touched against Faith’s.

“Dear God—” Faith’s sweet voice was full of trust—“help Mommy. Help the shot not hurt. Amen.”

“Amen,” Anne echoed around the emotion clogging her throat. She met Faith’s solemn gaze. “Now?”

Faith nodded, and Anne gave herself the shot, then held the syringe up. “See? The needle’s so thin I don’t even bleed.”

Faith’s mouth opened in a little
O
. “It really doesn’t hurt?”

Anne knelt beside her. “Not even a little.”

When Faith’s small hand took hold of hers and lifted the bruised fingers, Anne held back a grimace.

“I bet
that
hurts, huh?”

She wouldn’t lie to her daughter, no matter how much she wanted to. “Yes, honey, that does hurt.”

Faith kissed each of her mother’s sore fingers. Then she let go of Anne’s hand, and a smile lit her sweet face. “All better?”

Anne caught her in a hug. “Better than better—” she rested her cheek against her daughter’s head—“the very best of all.”

On the
Hard Path

“As he scattered it across his field
,
some seed fell on … the hard path.…
Then the evil one comes and snatches
the seed away from their hearts.”

M
ATTHEW
13: 4, 19

seven

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SEPTEMBER DAY, THE KIND OF
day where the wind caressed your cheeks while the fall sun splayed its warmth across your shoulders.

It never ceased to amaze Anne how warm this time of year could be in the Rogue Valley. The scorching heat of August—when temperatures averaging mid- to high-nineties could climb as high as 115!—had only recently started to cool to the mid-eighties. The days were growing shorter, bit by bit. And early morning held a slight bite of cool that, though it never lasted past 9 A.M., was nonetheless a solid reminder that winter was coming.