Healing Grace (15 page)

“Had to?”

“Yes. Had to. It was Doctor Evans, from the clinic. They were pretty cozy. He acted like, well, like… I don’t know, not exactly boss-like.”

“Boss-like?”

“Isn’t he gay?”

Shelby laughed.

Ted lowered himself to a chair and stared at the floor. “I just assumed that Grace and Eddy and I…you know. We were so perfect together.”

“Like a family?” Shelby pushed the granny squares away.

“A guy can dream. Look at you! I remember when we…Jilly…I mean—”

“Eddy’s a doll. You got the best part. Never forget that.”

“Yeah. Cripes. Here I am, complaining. How’s it going with you, anyway? Things okay with the baby?”

“Oh, sure. Third time’s the charm.”

“Are you scared?”

“Well, I was for a while, you know. But since Grace checks on me,” her voice dropped, “and prays, I know this time things will be all right.”

“I need her, too.”

“Calm down, Ted. Give her time, okay? If it’s meant to be, it will work out. Don’t push it. I think Grace and the doc were both at Matty and Harold’s yesterday, weren’t they? He probably only stopped in for a few minutes. Everyone knows you have to tread lightly around your boss. If I’m not mistaken, you and Randy had company yourself, didn’t you?”

“So?”

“So, I didn’t hear her getting all bent out of shape because Kaye and Tanya spent the day with you. Why didn’t you ask Grace to come over?”

Ted felt the heat cross his scalp and ears, burn his cheeks. “I forgot. I thought I had, or at least I thought she’d know she was supposed to come. What a dope! When she didn’t come, Randy went over to check and she was gone. I can’t believe it.”

“Sometimes a girl needs to be invited.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And for the record, Ted. I don’t think there’s much wrong with you.”

He raised his left brow and squinted. “Much?”

“I don’t think a swelled head would help you anymore.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Shelby patted her tummy. “You asked. So, no cane?”

He stood and turned in a circle. “No cane.”

* * * *

Alyssa Ann Brouwer arrived on January 27. On St. Valentine’s Day Grace held the tiny, squirming girl on her lap. Shelby sat on her sofa, worn out from walking her bundle of joy.

“If she’s not gagging at nursing, she has a rash. She’s got Davy’s sensitive skin, poor girl. Two and a half weeks old and diaper rash you wouldn’t believe. I’ve tried four different brands of diapers, no diaper at all, powders, salves…”

Shelby’s tears came close to matching her daughter’s.

Grace cuddled Alyssa close, then held her out to peer into her navy blue eyes. “Yeah, girl? What’s with that, huh?” She spoke to Alyssa’s mom without taking her eyes off the baby. “You want me to take a look?”

“Oh, would you? I simply can’t run to the doctor with one more complaint.”

“Sure. Come on, little love.” Grace took the baby down the hall to the bathroom and set her on the padded, railed countertop. Alyssa kicked her little legs when they were unsnapped from the terry suit.

Grace hissed when she saw the bright red skin and chafed patches. “Ooh, yeah, baby. That’s one sore bottom. How could you do this to yourself? Hmm, and what can we do about it?” She loosely re-wrapped the infant and took her back out to her mother where she immediately began to cry again.

“I have something in the car that might help. I’ll be back in a second, I promise.” Grace patted Alyssa’s head and hurried out.

She brought in a jar of her homemade salve, mostly of aloe and vitamin D. It wasn’t a cure, but a great prop. Props were necessary when she needed a good explanation for what she was about to do.

Back in the bathroom with the baby once more, she warmed up a scoop of the stuff in her bare hand and began to smooth the ointment on the little girl’s red bottom, making sure her fingers and palms soothed over the skin first. Alyssa burbled with satisfaction as the healing began.

When the little tingle prickled quickly across her own bottom, she jumped. Just as quickly, the sensation was gone.

“Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes heavenward. Alyssa’s skin became less irritated with her touch and the homemade ointment. A new diaper fastened, and they were ready to return to the living room.

“Here we are,” Grace announced, but did not surrender the baby to her mother yet. It just felt too good to hold a tiny one so close. She and Alyssa exchanged wide-eyed expressions.

“You’ve done this before,” Shelby stated.

“Yup, lots of times.”

“I mean, for yourself.”

Grace went still, keeping eye contact with Alyssa. “Mother’s instinct, then?”

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Why not? The healing touch had returned; maybe it was time to share more of her story. But how much? Cuddling Alyssa against her heart, Grace leaned back in the rocker and closed her eyes briefly. Where to start?

“Jonathan and I…wanted to wait a while, you know, to get settled and that before we, well, had a family.” Alyssa took longer and longer blinks. She made little sucking noises against the side of Grace’s neck, and rubbed her nose at the collar of her sweater, drawing up her little terry-covered rump.

“We were married for five years before we felt ready. Med school, and all that. Jonathan did his pediatric internship while I worked since my degree didn’t take as long.” Grace rubbed the baby’s back and pulled a blanket around her. “It took another two years before we realized that things weren’t working out. Then a few more months before we figured what those things were. We were advised on, um, adjusting our, ah, strategy, and it worked—eventually. We had Sean.”

Inhaling Alyssa’s sweet baby scent, she whispered, “He was beautiful—perfect.”

“What happened?”

Her long, shaky breath sighed out slowly. The quaking started in her toes. “He died. With my parents. They took him for a long weekend on our anniversary to give us some time alone. He was sixteen months old.” Her smile wobbled. “Amazing the damage a semi can do to a Continental.”

Silent tears streamed down Shelby’s cheeks.

“It was an accident. We accepted that. It’s not easy, it never will be. But it’s done. We forgave. It was quick and they didn’t have time to suffer. Reverend Edwards said they went to a better place. We had to believe that. We do believe that.” Grace closed her eyes. “We’ll be together again.”

“Ted doesn’t know, does he?”

“We haven’t discussed it.”

“Oh, Grace. I knew there was something else besides Jonathan to make you so sad about Christmas. It must be hard on you, taking care of Eddy. Practically your whole family gone in one fell swoop. How can you stand it?” Shelby poked at her eyes with the edge of cloth diaper hanging over her left shoulder.

“I have to. Maybe Sean would have been something like him. I’ve come to love Eddy. He’s such a sweetheart. He’s been put through a lot. If there is any kind of normality to look for in a weird situation, the least I can do is attempt to provide it. I moved into his house. I’m not trying to take the place of his mother, but he’s welcome in his old house. Someone should be there to meet him after school, make sure he eats well and has time to play like a little boy.”

“What about the little boy’s father?”

Grace hunched and shrugged. “I don’t know.” She leaned back and sighed. “I ran so fast. You know, I left—no I ran away,” —she changed her first thought— “right during Jonathan’s funeral.”

“I didn’t know that. You said he got cancer. That was…after Sean? How awful. No one should have her whole family gone like that. What made you come here to East Bay?”

“It seemed like the right thing at the time. I woke up one morning in that little motel on the beach and here I was.” Grace glanced at her friend again. “I think you know what I mean when I say it was one of God’s little whispers.” She rocked back, staring at the turned-off television set. An African violet plant bloomed pale pink on top of it. “I can’t possibly think about anyone else. I never want to go through anything like that. Ever again. It’s too much to risk.” She cleared her throat.

“I think you should know that people saw Doctor Evans’s car at your place on Christmas. There may be talk,” Shelby told her.

“People will always find something to talk about. Anyway, who told you that?”

“Oh, it’s not important.”

Through narrowed eyes she watched Shelby pick at a thread from the baby blanket hanging on the arm of her chair before answering.

“Yeah, people will always find something to talk about. Alyssa seems pretty settled. Thanks to you and your magic.”

“Never that, girlfriend. Only miracle.”

Tony Vander Groot’s blood-curdling scream made Grace’s fingers twitch.

“What in the world? Tony—what’s the matter?” She withdrew the needle from his arm and pressed cotton against the entrance wound. She then pulled the arm straight up with her other gloved hand.

“It hurts!”

Matty came through the curtain at his shout.

“Tch!” The nurse reached past her to the cotton pad which had bled through. Grace withdrew her hand, perplexed and worried.

“Get me another one!” Matty commanded.

Greg, mouth pursed and arms folded, joined them.

It took nearly five minutes of pressing firmly against Tony’s inner arm and positioning him on an examining bed when his eyes rolled back before they brought the matter under control. Tony had rained down vociferous protests until his near-faint quieted him.

“It was a routine draw!” Grace hissed when they had Tony lying down, an ice pack on his inner elbow and Mrs. Vander Groot soothing his forehead, glaring at them. Greg had vanished into an examining room with his next case.

“We talk later.” Matty’s forehead resembled a roadmap as she padded out of the exam room.

* * * *

“I’ve done this a thousand times, Greg. I can’t tell you what went wrong.”

Grace, Greg, and Matty sat around the desk in his office after lunch.

“There was nothing unusual about the site, Doctor,” said Matty.

Grace smiled her thanks.

“This kind of incident has never happened to her since she’s been here. Even a through and through wouldn’t cause such distress. She is so gentle and careful. And you know the young ones ask for her. Perhaps young Master Vander Groot wriggled. That would explain much.”

Greg picked at the remains of his lunch. He swiveled to look out of the window at the trees leafing out and the lawn greening up nicely.

The women waited patiently while he twiddled his fingers, and then brushed back his hair. He turned back and smiled at Matty. “Thank you. Why don’t you go check on the afternoon schedule, okay?”

Matty, obviously not used to being dismissed, frowned and left the room.

“Grace, did you make up a new batch of salve for arthritis lately?”

“No.”

“Granny B was admitted to the hospital this morning with a blistering rash.”

“And you think I’m to blame.”

“We have to consider the possibility. It was pretty ugly, sore. The fact that Elvira consented to go to the hospital is an indication of how serious it is. I saw her on rounds this morning.”

Grace looked down at her lap, clutching the arms of her chair, thinking back. Had she done anything differently the last time she made up the salve? The recipe was always the same. She was extra careful, despite what she had told Ted once about not following recipes for food. She pushed herself upright and began pacing. “After the Tony thing this morning, I don’t know what to say any more. I suppose she could be reacting to the salve after all this time. It happens.”

“Let’s get a jar of the same thing you’re using on her to the lab, okay? And we’ll call this blood draw incident a routine complication for now.”

She stopped behind her chair and pulled her white jacket onto her shoulders.

“And, Grace? Let me watch you for a while, okay? Until we’re sure these are isolated—ah, matters.”

Stunned, she nodded. Unsure whether she was to see patients alone that afternoon, she left Greg to finish his late lunch while she went to check the schedule.

Matters, hmm? No one had ever questioned her practice in the past. No one. What was going on?

* * * *

Grace held the letter up to the sunlight in her kitchen. She let it fall back on the table.

A year had passed—an entire year since that shocking day in Woodside at Jonathan’s gravesite. A letter from Reverend Mayor Jeremiah Edwards invited Grace to a memorial service and plaque dedication at the cemetery in Woodside in honor of Jonathan, their son, Sean, and her parents. “Jonathan Runyon was a respected pediatrician, town leader, and naturally is dearly missed,” the Reverend wrote on official letterhead.

She smiled at the phrasing—so pompous. “Yes, I did know that about my husband.”

“Your parents also, Mrs. Runyon, were a great loss as fine educators in our community. We would be honored with your presence on…”

Grace got up and took the letter with her into the living room along with her cup of tea. She had splurged on a couple of nice bookcases, a pretty little lamp, and a new easy chair in olive suede. Memories of Tennessee were fading. Woodside was another lifetime; an echo. Their home had felt empty after the loss of Sean, emptier still as she and Jonathan spent the last month of his life in hospice. The house threatened to suck her into nothing when there was no one left but her. She couldn’t face returning there after the funeral. That was one of the reasons she had simply run away.

The late spring snow was melting, making the snowman she and Eddy had made look as though it was curtsying. Michigan was more home. What was missing? Ah, yes. There he was. The subject of her thoughts came limping up the walk.

The good health Ted had gained over fall and winter seemed to be regressing. It was hard to see that he had resorted to the crutch again as his leg more often than not caused him to stumble. He could no longer grasp things well with the left hand. Letter forgotten, she went to greet Ted at the door and invited him to sit.

“Eddy’s at the Robertson boy’s birthday party.”