Home to You (20 page)

He found he liked being here with her and felt as if this was where he should have always been—by her side, together, doing things like this.

She, finally, with great care, accepted the pole.

“Good girl.” He smiled.

She scowled at him. “Don’t be patronizing.”

“Am I?” he asked innocently.

She chuckled and her eyes sparkled. “If you aren’t nice, I might just hook you again.”

His eyes darkened as her words took on an entirely different meaning to him. “I think it’s too late to worry about that.”

Curiously, she tilted her head in query and studied his face.

He continued, “You’ve already hooked me for good.”

Realizing what he meant, she dropped her gaze, her lashes hiding her reaction.

The sound of the occasional car zooming past on the nearby highway, dotted with the singing birds and the ever-constant wind, faded as Dakota stepped forward.

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He rested his hand over hers where she gripped the fishing pole. “Are you hooked, too, Meghan?”

She, at length, lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes held vulnerability and longing.

Dakota continued, “Because, if you aren’t, I plan to keep casting my line until I land you.”

“Dakota,” she began. Her lips trembled as she hesitated.

He decided he’d said enough. Leaning forward, inch by inch, so she could object if she didn’t want him to, he waited until his lips were a breath from hers. “And I
am
going to catch you eventually, Meghan O’Halleran.”

His lips touched hers. It was gentle, a taste of promise as they caressed hers. And then finally her lips softened and returned the kiss.

He leaned in and deepened it before pulling back.

The sounds of cars, along with the birdsong were still there, but as far as he was concerned, the entire world had just changed.

It was no longer quite as dull, empty or busy because he had Meghan in it. And more than just having Meghan in it, he realized something more. He was in love with Meghan O’Halleran and could easily spend the rest of his life with her.

In her eyes confusion warred with fulfillment.

He saw it and felt a slight twinge of guilt. He could wait, he realized, while she solved the war raging in her.

So, quietly, gently, he said, “But we’ll take this at your pace, sweet Meghan.”

Then he turned back to the pond. “Now, let’s go back to lesson two, casting your line.” They spent the rest of the day doing just that.

Chapter Sixteen

Meghan sat restlessly at Dr. Viglio’s office. Nervously she crossed her legs and clutched her purse. She hated doctors.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” Carolyne said from beside her. She set the magazine aside and reached for Meghan’s hand. “Trust God.”

Meghan nodded. “I’m trying.”

But it was more than the appointment that had Meghan squirming. She still couldn’t get over the kiss from yesterday. Every time she thought about it, her lips tin-gled.

When she’d found out she had MS, she had vowed not to love anyone. She couldn’t. She was afraid that she would end up destroying everyone around her, just like her grandmother had. Embittered and angry, her grandmother had done her dead-level best to make sure no one else survived her anger. And now the church was angry that Dakota was spending so much time away from them.

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She was terrified of that and yet, what had everyone been telling her? Trust God. He is in control.

Could she do that?

“Ms. O’Halleran?”

Meghan glanced up. A nurse in white stood at the door, a chart in her hand. Turning to Carolyne, Meghan asked, “Would you mind coming with me?”

“Of course not.” Carolyne stood.

Meghan stood as well. Silently, she followed the nurse back into the room, pausing to be weighed—she had gained one pound—and get her blood pressure taken—it was a bit low.

In the room, she seated herself on the table and waited. Memories of the last time she was in such a room flooded her.

“Are you okay, dear?” Carolyne asked. She sat down in a nearby chair and studied Meghan.

“Last time…” She shuddered. “I only remember being told I had to have tests and then going to them. The pinging and grinding of the MRI, the needle in my spine, the tubes of blood…” She shook her head. “And then I was brought back into a room like this and the nurse wouldn’t tell me what was going on—she told me it could be anything and not to worry, that the doctor would talk to me.”

How she remembered that visit. It rang in her mind again and again. The utter fear when the nurse had said it could be
anything.
Anything! Cancer? Was she dying?

Whom would she tell? Who would care?

In that split moment her life had boiled down to utter terror. Who would miss her if she died?

No one.

Her friends at work? They weren’t real friends, not
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the type that you confided in. Their main goal in life was to climb the corporate ladder.

Family?

She had no family.

She was utterly, completely, alone and sitting in a room just like this, awaiting horrible news.

But she’d had no idea just how horrible that news was going to be.

“Hello, Meghan. I’m Dr. Viglio.”

Meghan was jerked out of the past by the friendly voice of the man who had just entered.

Short, no bigger than Carolyne’s five foot one inch, he had a broad smile and gentle eyes.

She felt immediately at ease, or as at ease as she could be inside a doctor’s office. She shook his hand.

He shook Carolyne’s hand, as well.

“So you have multiple sclerosis.” He opened her chart to read.

Meghan shrugged.

“Well, that’s what it says here. By the way, I took the liberty of calling the last doctor who saw you and got a verbal report.”

He pulled up a small round rolling chair and sat down. The nurse stood silently behind him, like a toy soldier, at his beck and call.

He dropped the chart on the counter and then rested his hands on his knees. “So tell me, how do you feel about that?”

She blinked. He couldn’t be serious.

When he didn’t say anything, she realized he was.

“How do I feel?” She laughed nervously. What could she say? “Scared.”

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He only nodded.

What did he want from her? “Upset,” she added.

When he didn’t say anything, she frowned. “Angry.”

He nodded again. “Sounds normal to me.”

Her face flushed. “What do you mean
normal?
I have a terrible disease that will probably put me in a wheelchair. That is
not
normal. I mean, I don’t want to believe that, but I
know
that’s what happens!”

Her eyes widened and she realized she had just yelled at this nice old man.

He smiled. “Why do you think that?”

She looked from him to the nurse and back.

“Well…it’s true. That’s what happens to people with MS.”

The doctor’s eyes twinkled and he glanced sideways up at his nurse. “Is that what happened to you, Darlene?”

The nurse shook her head.

She looked from Darlene to the doctor and back. “I don’t understand.”

Darlene smiled. “Sweetie, I’ve had multiple sclerosis for fifteen years now.”

Meghan studied the woman. She stood straight next to the doctor, her smile at the same time both gentle and understanding. Meghan felt tears burn her eyes. “But you look—normal,” she finished weakly. “You can’t have MS.”

The nurse moved to sit down next to the doctor on another stool. “Define
normal
for me.”

Meghan felt as if she was on a ride that was out of control. This was surreal. What was going on? “You’re standing, without a cane, walking, smiling…”

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Darlene nodded. “That I am. But I’ve been hospital-ized twice with some severe attacks and used a walker for about a month once during one of those attacks. I sit more than I stand. However, I still hold down a job, still do many things myself, though I don’t give shots anymore.”

The doctor chuckled. “Her right hand has some weakness in it and I suggested she let the newer girls do the injections.”

Meghan shook her head. The first strange ray of hope touched her heart.

“Who have you known, Meghan, that had MS?”

“My grandmother,” Meghan whispered.

The doctor’s smile faded. Gravely, he nodded. “That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

Mutely, she acknowledged that he was right.

“Twenty years ago, even ten years ago, research hadn’t made the strides it has today. Most people within five to ten years went from the type of MS you have, which is called relapsing-remitting, into secondary progressive. Many ended up in wheelchairs and a few were bedridden. I’m not belittling the severity of MS, but did you know that MS is the most common neurological disorder among women your age?”

She shook her head.

“And we have all kinds of drugs that can slow the effects of the disease. Darlene has been on two different drugs. She is going into her sixteenth year now and you see how well she’s doing.”

Meghan felt the tears release and trickle down her cheeks. The ray of hope blossomed.

“I won’t lie to you, Meghan. No one knows which
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way the disease is going to go in each individual. A rule of thumb is to watch the first five years of your disease to get an idea of how severe it’s going to be. My rule is, just live each day to the fullest, following one simple rule. If you feel like doing it, go for it, otherwise rest.”

He pulled out a small hammer and stood. “I’m going to test your reflexes, have you walk for me, and judge just where you are on the disability scale. Then we’re going to test your memory and talk about medication.”

Meghan could only nod.

She glanced over at Carolyne and saw Carolyne beaming with excitement.

“Do you think I could work in a shelter?”

The doctor tested one knee and then her ankle before moving to the next one. “I don’t know. Do you like that type of work?”

She couldn’t take in all he was saying. “I want to help Carolyne when she opens one.”

He shrugged as he pulled out a pin. “I’m going to touch you on different areas of your arms and legs. Nod when you feel it.”

She nodded each time he poked her.

“Now stand up and I’ll show you what I want you to do when you walk.”

She stood. “What about fatigue?” she asked as she did as he told her. She found she stumbled once and was a bit off balance, but other than that, she did well, she thought.

“That’s the most common symptom. Take it easy when you feel tired. And don’t get overheated. Heat re-Cheryl Wolverton

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ally bothers most patients. We also have some different medications that can help that.”

She nodded. She did get overheated sometimes. But medicines to help it?

He took her elbow and helped her back over to the table. “You’re actually doing very well. Right now I’d say you only have a minor disability. We want to keep it that way.”

He handed her a pamphlet he’d filled out that was en-titled
EDSS, The Scale of Disability
and then wrote some information in the chart.

“I’m going to send you home with some more pamphlets on the medications. I want you to read them, and we’ll contact some different places about getting these meds paid for. We’ll get in touch with you as soon as we hear something. But I really think you should consider one of the four medications listed in these pamphlets. Make an appointment, and we’ll see you in a week.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

He paused. “Of course. And if you leave here and have questions, you can always call me. So, what is it you want to ask?”

Meghan wanted to make sure she understood the doctor. “So you don’t think this disease will affect my emotions and cause me to—change—do you?”

The doctor frowned. “That’s actually a very good question, Meghan. In some cases, the disease can affect your emotions. Many MS patients go on antidepress-ants because some of these meds will cause depres-sion. Some have to go on them because of the parts of
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the brain the MS affects. And some simply can’t handle the prognosis and retreat from reality and need help coping. But there are others who are never affected that way and never have emotional problems.”

Relief flooded her. It meant she wouldn’t necessarily be like her grandmother after all.

Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Check out up front,” he said kindly and was gone.

The nurse handed her some tissues and then exited the room. Meghan covered her eyes with a tissue as fresh tears fell.

She heard Carolyne get up and come over to her. Carolyne’s arms slipped around her. And she just held her.

Meghan whispered, “In some ways I feel like I’ve received a fresh lease on life.” She laughed and then shuddered.

“In many ways you have, sweetheart. I remember your grandmother, and I know how afraid you were you’d turn out like her. But your grandmother wasn’t a Christian, Meghan. She didn’t have hope like you do.

You don’t have to face another empty, lonely day, because you know there is Someone there to face it with you.”

Meghan nodded. She sat back and wiped her eyes.

“I think that has already helped me so much. God, I mean. Knowing that He cares. I don’t understand why this has happened though.”

Carolyne shrugged. “Sometimes God has to get us down on our backs for us to look up. You found Him because of this disease.”

Meghan blinked. “I did, didn’t I?”

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Carolyne nodded. “And you never know, God might just heal you or this disease could go into remission and you won’t have another attack for years.”

She nodded.

“But even if it doesn’t,” Carolyne continued, “and you do end up in a wheelchair like your grandmother, you still have that joy that you found when you gave your heart to Jesus Christ.”