Healing Grace (27 page)

Tears welled again and Grace turned her head away. “I’m so glad for both of you,” she said. “I apologize for this crying jag. I’m happy for you. You know Ted tried to set us up.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that lasted all of two seconds, didn’t it?” He cleared his throat. “The thing is, we don’t want you to leave, Grace. Not Kaye, or me, or Eddy.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head and sniffed.

“It will be so hard for Eddy after, well, afterward. The other night was a small sample of what he’ll—we’ll all go through, after…”

“My whole life is like some big sacrifice. I’m just supposed to go and watch people I love die slow painful deaths. What about me?” She shoved the car door open and strode to the railing surrounding the overlook.

She paced along the shore for several minutes, her jacket billowing around her in the breeze, her hair flying all over her face and shoulders. She had not had it cut since she moved to Michigan. It was longer than she was used to, falling down between her shoulder blades. The gulls squawked above, turning in aimless circles hoping to spot a speck of dinner that hadn’t been there on the last pass. Cold, steely waves broke and foamed white, inward toward the shore. The breeze blew chill fingers under her jacket and up her sleeves. She glanced over her shoulder at the car to see Randy watching through the windshield. She turned to climb back in beside him.

They said nothing at all as Randy returned her to the clinic parking lot to pick up her car.

Grace’s cell phone rang from its cradle on her nightstand. She rolled over and automatically flipped it open in the dark. She squinted at the too bright display. Shelby? “Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m so sorry, Grace. I didn’t know what else to do. I know I can’t just call for antibiotics anymore, but she’s so little. I don’t know what to do to take away her pain.”

“And yours, too, right?” Grace rolled over to look at her alarm clock’s illuminated green dial. Two-thirty in the morning. Yeah, morning.

She yawned. Shelby’s little girl wailed in the background. “Davy’s away, fishing, isn’t he? Okay, I’ll be right over. You can make a washcloth warm by soaking it in hot water, but only hot enough that you can hold it comfortably in your hand for several seconds, and hold it against her ear. You probably know about that. Sometimes it helps or at least distracts them a little. I’ll get dressed and come over, okay? Hang on.”

She realized she was repeating herself and hoped that Shelby wouldn’t notice.

After pulling on some jeans and a shirt, she shoved her feet into tennies, grabbed a windbreaker, and headed out to her car, brushing feebly at her head. The brisk air woke her up a little more and she looked up at the brilliant diamond night sky. There must have hardly been any moonlight to interfere with the starshine. She almost hated to put on her headlights as she drove.

Shelby met her at the door. Alyssa bounced in her baby seat on the living room floor, flapping her arms and throwing her little body backward against the restraints with all her might. Her little face was puckered and red and her hair was sweaty ringlets.

“What’s her temp?” Grace asked first.

“Oh! How could I…? Um, give me a moment.”

Shelby was so flustered that Grace pushed her down on the couch. “Never mind. I know where it is. Hang out, relax.”

“She’s so little,” her friend said helplessly. “I just, I just—how much baby pain medicine can I give her? She had a few drops already but she screams so hard she throws up.”

Grace came back into the living room in time to hear the last part of the lament. “If she’s throwing up, she’ll become dehydrated. Are you giving her water, too? Here, let’s check your temp.” Grace picked up the baby and slid the strip inside the baby’s gown under her arm, holding her firmly a few seconds for the sensitive tape to register the temperature.

Alyssa’s mom paced nearby. “How high is it? Should we take her to Bay Bridge?”

“She’s sweaty. The fever isn’t very high. I don’t think we need to take her anywhere at this point.”

“Oh. Well, sweating is good, isn’t it?”

Grace had no doubt Shelby knew all about children’s temperatures and was simply exhausted and panicked. She’d sometimes felt the same with Sean, although she’d had Jonathan for back up.

She drew a lukewarm bath for the baby and took her into the bathroom, ordering Shelby to lie down on the couch and close her eyes for a little.

The water distracted Alyssa enough for Grace to encourage her to take some baby drops of medicine and keep them down. A couple of hours later both mother and daughter were relaxed enough that Grace felt comfortable leaving them again.

“Call me any time yet tonight if you need anything,” she whispered on her way out. “But definitely check in with me tomorrow and let me know how she is, okay?”

She left them cuddled on the sofa under Shelby’s favorite granny square afghan.

* * * *

Later in the afternoon Grace and Ted sprawled on a blanket in her backyard. Meager fall sunlight made it pleasant enough to be outside with a couple of sweatshirts for warmth. Eddy played with his basketball and hoop, two curious kittens prancing around exploring whenever Eddy dropped the ball.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I saw you leave,” Ted remarked.

“Oh? Checking up on me?” She laughed. “Shelby called. You know Davy’s gone.”

“Yeah. We usually go fishing. Another thing I miss.”

Grace studied his expression, wondering if he meant now, or forever. She yawned. “Alyssa had an earache, and I only went for moral support.”

Ted turned on his side. He bent his elbow and made a fist to rest his cheek on.

“I’m sure she was glad to see you.” He touched her hand.

“She was. That’s what friends are for, or so I’ve been told.”

“Ah, I wondered about that—what we’re here for, that is.”

Grace felt muzzy-headed with missing sleep and couldn’t tell if he was making idle talk or if he really wanted an answer. “I think we’re here for each other. To cherish each other and help each other be brave when things get rough.”

He gripped her hand with convulsive strength but turned his face away. “I’m not brave, Grace. Sometimes I’m so afraid.” He spoke so quietly that she had to lean in close to catch it.

“Afraid of what?”

“I guess of dying. Of being so lonely without Eddy and you and Randy… How can anyone bear it?”

She took a deep breath, debating whether to keep their conversation light or delve deeper. “What do you think will happen?”

“I’m not sure.” He moved uncomfortably as his leg spasmed. He sat up and kneaded the taut muscle above his shin. His expression softened when he looked at his son.

“That it might hurt.” He shivered. “Is that what happened to you? That you couldn’t bear it, alone, after your husband died? Is that why you ran?”

Grace touched his cheek. He had shaved that morning, and his skin was still smooth. How much more alone would she feel without this man? Why had she run in the first place, anyway?

“In a way, Jonathan left me long before he died. When he—we—both knew that nothing could be done to preserve his life, it seemed like he…turned off.” She looked at him carefully to see if he understood. He nodded.

“You see, I was afraid, too,” she said. “Afraid they would hate me, think I didn’t try hard enough to help him and blame me for his death. Everyone loved him.”

“Did they act like that? Like…like some of them did, here? Say anything?”

She shook her head. To buy time, she plucked a few blades of grass and rolled them between her fingers. The moist scent of sweet summer lulled her, though the crackle of dried, dead leaves whispered around her. Summer was over. “No. How I reacted to what happened was all in my own head. I think I needed to learn more about who
I
was. I only knew the parts that everyone else claimed. Daughter, wife, mother, PA. I ran away so I could figure out what part of me was the most important. I still don’t know.”

Ted set his hand on hers again. “I know. And it isn’t what you are to everyone. It’s who you are inside that’s important. To me, and to Eddy. That’s what I treasure most. That’s what I want to hold on to forever.”

“Forever only starts when our life on earth is over.”

“Maybe.” Ted rolled onto his back, keeping her hand close to his chest, so that she had to lean across him to talk. It put her in a vulnerable position, and maybe Ted needed her to feel that way.

She wouldn’t let him stop her. “Remember when we talked at the beach at Petoskey? You’ve been running away from this conversation. Maybe it’s time to stop running.”

“Okay. Tell me.”

“We each have something we’re born with that makes us unique beings. We all bring something special into the mix of humanity, and when it’s gone, there’s a gap.”

“You mean, when I’m gone, someone might notice.”

“Death is temporary. Your soul, Ted, is what goes on, not your beat-up body. You have the head-knowledge of faith as so many people do, but the hardest thing now is letting go of your misconceptions. To believe the impossible—that there is an afterlife, heaven, is—well, difficult.”

Ted jerked her closer.

Grace resisted him for one last try at his soul. “Our miserable little lives are such a flash in the pan compared to what’s real.”

“What’s real?”

“None of this means anything compared to the promise of heaven, of having all our tears wiped away. That’s a sure thing.”

“How can you know that? And heaven always sounds boring.” He tugged her the rest of the way so that she flopped across his torso. He put a hand behind her neck and pressed his lips against hers ungently, nipping. “Does heaven have that?”

“Something better.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up and he squeezed her shoulder.

“Better than that, too.”

He let his head fall back. “Hmm. Do you really believe this stuff? I mean, I’m not sure even Righteous Randy has that part down—about knowing for sure.”

“I do know it. And I believe it with all my heart. I’d like to be with you again in heaven.”

“What about Jonathan? Will he be there?”

“I’m pretty sure he will.”

“Then what about us?”

Grace twisted her lips. “What about Jilly?”

“I’m pretty sure she won’t be there,” Ted said, tongue in cheek.

“Ted!”

He laughed and fended off her smack at his chest.

“I can tell you there’s no more tears, no jealousy, no pain in heaven,” she said.

“I’d like to spend eternity with you, Grace. And with Eddy, and Randy, and Mom and Dad, and Sean…but I’ll have to think about Jonathan.”

He was back in playful mode. He sat up. Grace pushed him over again. “You!”

He closed his eyes against the sun. “It would be nice. I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too long. Promise,” she demanded, leaning across his face so that her head shielded his eyes.

“Cross my heart,” Ted said, feebly attempting the gesture.

Grace caught his hand and held it tight.

“And hope to live,” they said in tandem.

* * * *

Shelby called Grace at suppertime—from Bay Bridge Hospital.

“Honestly, everything was fine until she woke up from a nap this afternoon. I was going to call you,” she said miserably, “but I was so tired, too, and I fell asleep when she did. Her cries were different when she woke up and I just panicked.”

“Oh, Shelby. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure it’s not your fault, or anything,” Shelby whispered into the phone.

Grace pressed the instrument closer to her head in order to hear.

“I hesitated to call even now. I knew you’d feel bad and there isn’t anything we can do. Her fever went high and they have… they have…” Shelby’s voice faltered. “They’re giving her IV antibiotics. She’s strapped d-down.”

“Oh, honey. Did you get hold of Davy?”

“Yes. He’s on his way back now.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“No, Grace, please. Don’t come, okay? I’ll call you later.”

Grace pressed the button that terminated the connection, more stunned that Shelby did not want her company until Davy arrived, than hurt that her friend thought she might have hurt Alyssa the night before.

She brushed at her face, surprised her cheeks were damp. This episode was the last straw. Her career in medicine was definitely over. There was only one more thing to do. She grabbed her handbag and car keys and drove over to the clinic.

Grace ignored the four patients in the waiting room and Nancy at reception and marched past them all down the hallway into Greg’s office. She slammed the door and sat down blindly in front of the computer terminal at his desk. Setting her purse on the floor, she gave the mouse a little shake to bring the screen back up from Greg’s screensaver of Jamaican beaches. Hesitating only a moment, she rapidly clicked out a terse resignation letter, double checked for embarrassing typos, printed it off, and signed it with a flourish. She tossed it toward Greg’s desk where it breezed back and forth on its way down to the red blotter. As she watched it flutter, the doctor strode into the room. He snatched the paper up just before it settled, barely giving it a glance before tearing it to shreds.

Grace watched him, thoroughly irked. “That doesn’t change anything. I should have resigned months ago when…when the garbage talk started,” she hissed.

Greg’s face remained impassive. He said nothing. For whatever reason, his silence made her more upset. He sat on the edge of his desk, swinging his foot, and calmly watched her composure unravel. He smiled a little, which threw her into a fury. She raised her purse over her head and dashed it to the floor and began looking around for something else to throw.

Greg handed her his Gray’s Anatomy. She had to take it in both hands as the volume was so large. By the time she recovered from its weight, her anger changed to frustration. She hefted the familiar book. Pages of illustrations flashed behind her eyes, memories crept out of her determination to learn all she could before even graduating from high school.

She plopped into Greg’s guest chair with the book on her lap and let her head fall forward.