A Time to Dance/A Time to Embrace (79 page)

Kade laughed. “Give him time, buddy. First he has to get his legs strong enough to move them.”

They were discussing the process of muscle atrophy, when Nicole and Matt came tearing around the corner. “Is it true?” Nicole grabbed Abby’s hands. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears.

“My parents told me the operation was a success. They’re taking a turn with Haley, but we had to come up and ask for ourselves. Is that really what the doctor said?” Matt blurted out.

Abby grinned and the feeling seemed to come from the depths of her soul. “To quote the man, he said your father will beat people at footraces before summer hits.”

“Yes!”
Nicole flew into Matt’s arms, and then moved around the room, hugging Abby and her brothers. “I knew it was going to be a day of miracles. I just
knew
it.”

As her children began talking all at once, laughing and smiling, filled with a hope they hadn’t had before, Abby felt the nervous energy come over her again. Not because she was worried or anxious, but because there was something she had to do. Something no amount of pacing would satisfy.

“I’ll be right back.” Abby stood and headed down the hallway.

“Wait.” Nicole called after her. “Where’re you going?”

Abby only grinned, this time bigger than before.

“That’s not fair. I want to see him, too.”

“Me first. If he’s awake, I’ll come get the rest of you.” Abby sent them a look that said they better not follow her. Then she practically ran toward John’s room to do the one thing she’d wanted to do since his operation began.

Walk up to him, kiss him on the lips, and challenge him to a June footrace.

She slowed her pace as she neared his room. She didn’t want to wake him if he was asleep. He was probably exhausted, and definitely still sedated. There were no sounds coming from his bed as she leaned her head inside the room, and then crept up alongside him.

“John, you did it, baby!” Her voice was a tender whisper, the kind she hoped he could hear in his dreams.

For a while he stayed still, but then he let out a weak moan. His neck was stabilized, so he couldn’t turn his head. But his eyes began to move beneath the lids. After a few seconds he blinked, and Abby saw panic fill his expression.

“Honey, it’s okay. The surgery’s over.”

He shifted his eyes toward her voice. The moment he saw her, the panic faded. “Hi.”

She ran her fingers over his arm and bent down, kissing him on his forehead. “Hi.”

“How long’ve I been here?” He winced, straining against the neck brace.

“Not long. An hour maybe.”

The fog of medication seemed to clear, and his look became more intense. “Tell me, Abby . . . did it work?”

“Oh, honey, yes!” A single laugh escaped Abby’s mouth, and she smothered it with her hand. She couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in her eyes. “It worked perfectly. Dr. Furin says your leg reflexes are all normal.”

“So . . .” He swallowed hard, and she could hear how dry his mouth was. “So . . . I’ll be able to walk again?”

Abby nodded. “Try, John. Try to move your legs.”

His head was strapped to the bed, but he stared down the length of his body. Abby watched as both his legs trembled beneath the sheets. If it had been any other time, if he hadn’t just come out of surgery, Abby would have thought the movement an involuntary shivering.

But not this time.

John met her eyes again. “Did you see that?”

“Yes!” She brought her face close to his, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. “Did you feel it?”

“I did.”

Abby stood again and this time she saw something she hadn’t seen since John had been injured. He was crying. Not the way their sons had cried earlier, but in a quiet way that didn’t seem like crying at all. Rather, it looked as though John had sprung a leak on either side of his face.

She kissed one of his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears. “It’s a miracle, John.”

He sniffed and laughed at the same time. “How long before I can walk?”

“The doctor said you’d be winning footraces by summer.” She kissed him again. “But I told the guy he was crazy. I’m a faster runner. I’d beat you. No contest.”

“Oh, yeah?” John’s voice was tired again, and a sleepy smile drifted across his face. “Is that a challenge?”

“Absolutely.” She giggled, anxious for the days and weeks to pass. Desperate to see him fully recovered.

“Okay, you’re on.” His lids grew heavy and finally closed altogether. “June it is.”

Abby stepped back and leaned against the wall. “Goodnight, John.”

He was already asleep, the smile still on his face. She knew the others were waiting for a chance to see him, but she couldn’t tear herself away, couldn’t stop staring at him, reminding herself that it had really happened. The surgery had fixed John’s legs!

She closed her eyes and lifted her face toward heaven.

God . . . thank You doesn’t come close to telling You how I feel. First
Haley . . . now John. You are so good, God. No matter what happens, there
You are. Giving us peace . . . teaching us how to love . . . restoring us to a
life bursting with hope. Thank You, God.

She remembered some of the verses that had pulled her through the dark days of John’s paralysis:
“In this world you will have trouble. But
take heart! I have overcome the world”
. . .
“Lean not on your own understanding,
in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your
paths straight . . .”

Abby marveled at the promises. God had definitely delivered—and long before John’s successful surgery.

A dozen moments flashed in her mind. The day when John would take his first steps, the morning when he could finally come home, the time when he would first push little Haley in her stroller . . . the moment when he would run again.

And on some far-off June afternoon, the time when they would line up along one end of their backyard and race to the other. Of all the athletic feats John had accomplished, that single run would be the greatest of his life.

Thirty

A
S MOVEMENT WENT, I T WASN’T MUCH.

They had to gather close around John’s bed, their faces inches from his covered legs, just to see it. But Abby couldn’t have been happier if John had jumped on top of the bed and danced a jig on the hospital sheets.

“See—” John pointed to his legs—“watch, I’ll do it again.”

Kade and Sean and Nicole and Matt closed in and stared at John’s legs. His left knee rose half an inch, then his right, followed by the faintest rustling of all ten toes beneath the blankets. “It’s amazing, Dad.” Nicole took his hand. “You and Haley . . . on the same day. Only God could’ve worked that out.”

It was Wednesday night, three days after the surgery, and Dr. Furin’s reports had been nothing but glowing. John had surface and muscular sensation in nearly all sections of his lower extremities. The skin on the back of his calves was still somewhat numb, but the doctor wasn’t worried. Rarely, in the few incidents where spinal cord injuries had been reversed, did complete sensation return just days after surgery.

“You’re an exceptional case,” Dr. Furin told him earlier that day. “You must have taken my advice.”

John winked at the doctor. “Absolutely.” He pointed to the full-page ad hanging on his hospital wall. “Most of Marion was praying for me.”

Abby stepped back and let the kids ooh and aah over John’s ability to move his legs. Everything about the past few days had been unforgettable. Seeing John that first day, watching their kids’ faces when they were able to see for themselves that, yes, John had feeling in his legs once again.

And especially handing him the newspaper ad.

She’d given it to him the morning after the surgery, and at first he’d had as much trouble as Abby trying to make sense of it. Then he read the headline and the copy beneath it and stared at her, unable to speak.

“They love you, John.” She shrugged, her voice tight. “I guess they always did.”

“So they were . . .” He looked at the list of hundreds of names. “They were all praying for me?”

Abby nodded. “Apparently Kade told some of the guys on the team that Dr. Furin wanted everyone praying.” She smiled. “A few of them took the order literally and began getting signatures. Anyone who would promise to pray, anyone who wanted to thank you for what you’ve done for that school, got their name on the list.”

John had stared at it for a long time, scanning the names. “It’s unbelievable.”

“Not just that, but you had our prayers and those of Jo and Denny.”

A chuckle worked its way through John’s stiff neck and slid through his teeth. “Jo’s someone I’d always want praying for me.”

“She doesn’t so much ask God, as she demands. Almost like she already knows it’s going to work out, so let’s get it worked out already.”

“Exactly.”

In the days since his surgery, they had shared many precious hours. So far only family had been in to see him. Family and Jake Daniels. Nothing could’ve kept the boy away. Abby guessed he’d be back again later that night. But now John was ready for other visitors as well.

John was feeling so good that Abby had given the green light to several people who wanted to come by. Already three players and their parents had stopped in, and now the kids were here. John never got tired of moving his legs on command—even a little. The atmosphere was as festive as Christmas Day.

“Hey, Dad. How come you can’t lift your knees up or get out of bed yet?” Sean ran a finger over John’s knee, staring at it. “I thought your legs were better.”

“Dork.” Kade elbowed his younger brother. “His leg muscles are gone. I told you, remember? He doesn’t have any strength. He’ll have to work to get them moving again.”

John grinned at the exchange. “Yep, your dad’s about as weak as little Haley.”

Abby looked at Nicole. “How’s she doing, sweetheart?”

“Wonderful. I get to hold her whenever I want.” Nicole looked better than she had since she’d had the baby. Happy, content, and well-rested. “She weighs three pounds and she’s gaining a few ounces every day. Her breathing is normal and she has no cerebral palsy from the early delivery.” Nicole clasped Matt’s hand. “She could come home in just three weeks if everything goes well.”

The hospital door opened and Jo and Denny walked in. Jo was carrying a big wrapped box with a giant fish balloon floating from it. The fish read, “What a Catch!” Jo smiled big as she handed it to John.

He stared at it and bit his lip. “Thanks, Jo . . . Denny. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Ain’t that the best balloon you ever saw?” Jo looked straight up at the green-and-gold mylar fish dancing above John’s bed. “Denny told me it wasn’t appropriate for a get-well gift, but I think it works.” She looked at John, her face earnest. “See, once you’re up and runnin’ around again, you’ll wanna get out in that boat of yours and do some fishin’. At least that’s what I’d wanna do. And the minute you’re back behind the rod, I know it in my bones you’ll catch the fish of your life. So, see, the balloon works. ‘What a Catch!’”

Abby and the others struggled to keep from laughing.

Denny rolled his eyes and shook his head in Jo’s direction. “The woman’s delusional.”

Jo spun around and gave Denny a light kick in the shins. “I am
not.”
She turned back to John. “It works another way, too. When you’re up and feeling better, those strappin’ sons o’ yours will have you on the football field in no time. Now I know your legs might take a bit gettin’ used to, but not that arm you got.” Jo brought her hand up and back behind her head, like she was about to throw a ball. “There you’ll be, winding back, throwing for all you’re worth . . . and one of these here boys will catch the ball. And you’ll say—”

“What a catch!” John winked at Denny. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

John was able to sit up now, and he positioned himself a little higher on the bed. He still wore the neck brace, and would for several weeks. But it didn’t keep him from enjoying the celebration. He slid the paper off the gift box, opened it, and pulled out a pair of well-worn Nikes.

They were dirty, with barely any sole left, and two large holes near the tips.

“Okay.” Jo motioned to the old shoes. “Let me explain.”

A few giggles rose from Sean and Kade, but Jo waved her finger at them. “Hey, there . . . don’t laugh. There’s a story behind them shoes.”

“Here we go.” Denny shook his head. “I told her to give you flowers or candy like a normal person, but . . . well, you know.”

“Stop.” Jo snapped her fingers. She looked at Abby, then back to John. Abby could only guess what sort of story she was about to tell. “I hear tell you and Abby’s gonna have a footrace sometime this June.” She flashed a quick glance at Abby. “Ain’t that so?”

Abby lowered her chin, doing her best to keep a serious face. “It is.”

“Okay, then.” She looked at John again. “I got the idea the other day when I was lookin’ at your feet. I said to myself, ‘Jo . . . why those feet look almost the same size as my Denny’s feet.’” She cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered the next part. “Denny has big feet for a small man.”

“Thank you, honey.”

“You’re welcome.” Jo smiled and resumed the story. “So I started thinkin’ about the time when Denny had the darndest run o’ great fishin’ days. I mean one day he’d catch three prize babies and the next he’d catch four. Went like that for weeks on end. And these—” she snatched the old shoes from John’s hands and held them up for everyone to admire—“these were the shoes Denny wore back then.” Her head jerked in a quick nod. “Saved ’em all these years in case we ever needed a pair of lucky shoes.”

“So . . .” John reached for the shoes again and grinned at them. “You want me to wear these when I race Abby. Is that it?”

“O’ course.” She shook her head and shot a look at Abby and Nicole. “Men aren’t the quickest study, are they?”

Abby opened her mouth to answer, but Jo beat her to it. “Okay, everyone, listen up. Denny and I got an announcement.”

Abby and Nicole exchanged a quick giggle, before covering their mouths and giving Jo their attention again.