Healing Grace (26 page)

“Hey, I keep telling you. It’s really you doing me the favor. You stuck by me, helped me. Listened to me, too.” Grace butted Shelby with her shoulder as they walked along. “Friends like us—it’s mutual.”

“Don’t you miss your friends from Tennessee? I know you still keep in touch with some of them.”

“A little. Lena, well, she’s the Shelby of Woodside.” Grace grinned. “I keep in touch with her, of course. In fact, she’s coming to visit for Thanksgiving this year so you’ll have a chance to meet her.”

“What did you do—I mean, can I ask you about, well, about what you did with—”

“Sean? My son? You mean, did I keep working after I had him?”

“Yeah. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. It’s getting easier to talk about him. I guess since you know about him, too. Well, I did keep on working as much as I could, usually only till two or three in the afternoon, though. I had been working as a midwife, which I loved. But I gave it up, due to the unpredictability of our schedules. I couldn’t just leave in the middle of the night any more, with him to think about. My parents…” She swallowed and stopped, her throat tight. “I had my parents there. They helped a lot. So did Jonathan’s parents.”

Wafts of memory whirled around her. Shelby stayed silent.

“I really had it all back then, or thought I did,” Grace mused.

“Sounds like it. Would you have been different, done things differently if you’d, well, if you knew what was going to happen?”

“How do you love them more? Wish they were back? Spend more minutes with them holding them close or watching them sleep? You can’t. You can’t ever get that back. But I make sure that those memories stay with me. Most importantly, I know with all my being that I will be with them again”— she gestured all around them—“when all of this doesn’t matter anymore.”

They nodded and greeted Mrs. Ten Boldt, who stood outside her shop soaking up the last sunny warm days of fall. Grace smiled and remembered the woman’s help when she had been so new in town she had not had a change of clothes.

Back at Shelby’s, Grace lifted the baby out of the stroller to take her inside. Once Alyssa had settled in for her nap, and they each had a cup of steaming tea, Shelby pounced on Grace. “How can you forgive them like nothing happened?”

Grace looked at her glass, swirling the tea. “You’re forgetting that nothing really ever happened,” she said, finally.

“How can you say that? They spread rumors, lies, about you. Accused you of hurting their children, and for heaven’s sakes, of killing that old mountain woman, not to mention starting a petition to get you fired.”

“Sticks and stones…”

“It wasn’t a childish prank. Slander is a criminal offense.”

“What would that prove? Forgiveness is personal. They may have thought I hurt them and if they thought it, didn’t I actually do it? That’s how they felt and we can’t dismiss that. Even if I did nothing wrong, they thought I did. It’s subjective. It doesn’t matter that an investigation of clinic records turned up nothing. At least it was done, so they can’t whisper about that. Practicing any kind of medicine is like depending on how the mad king feels from day to day. Some days you do everything exactly the way he wants and other days, well, there’s nothing that can make him happy. People in general act like that. Rumors and lies a person can get over—especially when they’re unsubstantiated. They didn’t make me leave town or run away, which, believe me, I was tempted to do.”

Grace took a sip of her drink. “I have to go along with their mood and act pleasantly. The forgiving will take a little longer in my heart,” she admitted. But it was not like what she’d deserved in Woodside, after Jonathan. She hadn’t deserved their vitriol this time; had no need to forgive herself for doing nothing wrong. Still, the feeling festered.

* * * *

In the evening, Grace fixed dinner for Ted and Eddy. Afterward, Eddy was allowed to watch one of his videos on her computer while she and Ted sat outside, no need to fill the quiet spaces. On the front porch swing, she relaxed in Ted’s embrace. Fall had nipped the edges of the trees and sent them huddling for warmth. She watched the interplay of their entwined hands. His skin felt dry and cool. Their fingers caught and caressed each other.

Patient care had resumed to a more normal level at the clinic. Greg had said little about the problems, telling her not to worry, that he’d handle things. He’d never cut back her hours, though she went home more than once when there was nothing for her to do. She no longer felt too tired to think, although she knew she hesitated way too much before making a decision at work or when answering one of Eddy’s interminable questions.

The flash of healing touch never returned after she’d healed Tanya. Had God left her? Was she no longer following his good and perfect will after what had happened with Jilly? She doubted herself and her courses of treatment more and more. What could bring it back?

Maybe in this good and peaceful moment she could call upon the gift for Ted. She released his hand. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She inhaled and closed her eyes, remembering the accusation in Jimmy’s eyes when he’d seen her after treating Tanya. She reached around Ted and slipped her hands up under his shirt to carefully nudge along his spine.

Now, Lord? Can I use your power to heal this man?

She felt nothing but his flesh. No heat, no spark of energy, only the familiar bumps and ridges of the vertebrae through his skin. Hurt and afraid, she opened her eyes, the fragment of mystery broken.

Ted pulled back to look at her. “Something you want?”

She shook her head. “No. Just…checking.”

He laughed and nuzzled her neck, threading his hands through her hair. “Hmm, you smell so good. What were you doing?”

Heaving a sigh, she tugged his face away. “I wondered if I could feel it.”

“Feel it? You mean, what’s wrong? It’s not in my spine, the doctor said.” He took her hand and put his lips against her palm. “I didn’t mind, you know. That’s about the only thing that works.”

She leaned toward his mouth and let their lips touch, teasing, questioning, exploring. It would be so easy to give in. Back down, girl. You have no right.

“You made me wonder something,” Ted said.

“Wonder? What about?”

“What it’s like, you know, when you’re truly in love. I realize I never had that before.”

“You were married, Ted.”

“Not in the right way. Not like you and Jonathan.”

Grace went silent. What could she say?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking like that.”

“No. You shouldn’t.” She twisted in his arms so she could rest her head on Ted’s shoulder and still feel the rumble of his voice under her cheek.

“Don’t you ever wish we—”

She put her hand up over his mouth. “I just showed up one day, bought your house, and helped you out when you needed it. I don’t want to talk about anything else.”

Ted pulled her hand away. “What if I asked you—”

The screen door creaked and bounced twice when Eddy poured out of the house like a glass of spilled milk. “Will somebody listen to me? I hafta read my story out loud. Mrs. Webb says it’s important homework. She gives us a checkmark when we do it. Then you sign this paper.”

Grace sat up and slid away from Ted to make room for him on the swing. Eddy snuggled up onto the seat. He leaned against his father, eyes dark and solemn with impossibly long lashes.

“Who will sign my paper? Mrs. Webb says for my mom or dad to sign it.”

It seemed important to Eddy that they talk over this business of signing before reading.

“I will,” Ted said immediately.

“But Daddy, I want Grace to sign it.” He leaned over and stage whispered to his father, “I wished she was my mama, you remember, at my birthday cake. I asked God about it in Sunday School, too. Then she can sign.”

Grace went very still. A tremble started in her elbows and worked upward. She tried not to look at Ted but could not turn away from the sight of gleaming moisture gathering in his eyes. In slow motion she watched his lips part and heard his words.

“That…well, Eddy. We love Grace very much. But she can’t…” He looked helpless.

Grace turned away and bit the inside of her cheek.

“Eddy, you know I won’t always be here for you, remember? We talked about it. And Uncle Randy will take care of you then. You have your own room and everything and won’t have to move. Kaye will always be here, and…”

Ted choked and gathered his son tight, his tears streaming into the boy’s hair.

Eddy turned demonic. He hit back, beating his little fists on his father’s side and back and arm. “I want Grace! I don’t want Kaye! I don’t want Unca Randy!”

Pent-up confusion and helplessness fueled a rage that only the very young can know. His cries were barely short of hysterical and he gasped. “Grace! Grace! I want Grace!”

She reached for Eddy, angry and so sad that she felt her heart creaking. Eddy clung so tightly that she could not take a deep breath. Why were the only emotions she was allowed despair and pain?
She turned away from Ted, who huddled on the swing. Eddy swung his legs tightly around Grace and rocked hard, almost pulling her over in his wild grief. She walked unsteadily to the other edge of the porch, where she leaned him on the railing and clung to him. “Shh, shh,” she whispered, “it will be all right.”

It was the classic mother’s lie. Nothing would ever be all right for this little boy. She rocked to the side so she could look at Ted who sat, forehead on his arms, hands clenched in his hair, rocking in his own agony.

“Why, God? Please, let me do something,” she prayed to her silent Lord. “Don’t deny me the gift now. It’s not fair that you asked this of me—to watch helplessly. You let me help others recover from their ailments—wasn’t I doing what you wanted? Why are this man and his child so unimportant that you don’t help them? Or is it me, Lord? Are you punishing me because I hesitated to obey when I first came here? Are you punishing everyone around me to make me suffer? It’s not fair!”

* * * *

Randy, alarmed at the shriek from next door, came hustling across the yard. He stood, silent, at the foot of the steps, his hands and jaws clenched. His prayers joined Grace’s.

“What do I live for? What do you want from me? What can I do so that you will spare my brother? I will gladly give you myself.”

* * * *

Eddy’s sobs gradually calmed. Grace continued to pray, trying to regulate her breathing. “When will it be? When will you let me know when you’ll let me work the gift you bestowed upon me? When he’s dead and gone? Why did you bring me here, put this in my face, and then deny me, Lord?”

* * * *

“It’s not time yet.” Randy heard the voice and looked heavenward.

* * * *

“It’s not time yet. Peace.” Grace heard the whisper and breathed it in.

* * * *

“Shhh. Be still.” Ted had never heard the wind sound so much like a voice speaking to him. Shhh…shhh, Eddy. Be still, my son. I love you.

* * * *

Randy appeared at the clinic one afternoon when Grace’s shift was over. He held his hat in his hands, twisting it around and around while he waited for her to finish logging her reports.

“I hoped to talk to you privately. Can you—would you mind going for a little drive with me if you have time now? I promise we’ll be back before school is out.”

“Sure, Randy.” She checked out and walked with him to his vehicle. Randy drove to the edge of East Bay to the turnout at the Lake Michigan shore. This time of day they had the little space to themselves. Randy let down his window before turning off the engine. They listened to the waves and gulls for a few minutes in companionable silence.

“I heard from Jimmy today,” Randy said.

“Oh? How is he?”

“He sounded good. Says he liked your package. Thanks for thinking of him, Grace.”

“You’re welcome. He’s a fine young man.”

“You did more for him in an hour than I did his whole life.”

“Randy, I don’t think so. This can’t be the reason you wanted to talk to me.”

Randy fiddled with the keys. “I found myself judging you awhile back. I guess I’ve been doing it ever since you came to town, when you never deserved that from me. I’ve always had that tendency, to put people I meet in a particular box, and it hasn’t done anyone around me any good. Certainly not my son. It’s been good this summer, getting to know him in a way I never took the chance to before. You’ve been helpful in that regard.”

Grace laid her head against the comfortable seat and closed her eyes.

“The thing is, I know you have some sort of special thing you can do with people’s hurts and I even know that it’s because of the kind of faith you have.” He tapped the steering wheel in helpless gesture. “When I think of how I accused you of not being a church-going woman at first…”

“You also accused me of being unfaithful to your brother. What do you want, Randy?”

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can stay in East Bay. It doesn’t matter how sorry everyone is. The damage is done. I don’t trust myself.”

“But Ted—can’t you help him?” Randy asked. “Can’t you do anything for him, like you did for Jimmy? Or Tanya? They told me, you know, in Woodside, that you helped people there. They were afraid when you left that things would change, that no one could get better again.”

He looked at his hands clasped tightly before him. “This one man, he said that when your boy and your husband died, they were afraid that you would be angry with them, that you wouldn’t be able to help them anymore. But you helped people when you came here, didn’t you? Even when you didn’t like me?”

The plaintive note in Randy’s voice convulsed Grace’s heart into an angry lump. She brought her elbows up over her ears. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t think I can.” Grace leaned over and let the tears flow. “God doesn’t hear me these days.” When she felt more in control she took his proffered handkerchief and rubbed her eyes and nose.

“I hadn’t cried for so long, not since I, well, before I lost my husband.”

“Maybe I don’t really know… No, that’s not right.” He shook his head. “I hope I never know what it feels like to go through what you have over the last few years, Grace. I also want you to know that Kaye and I are getting married after Thanksgiving.”