Learning (12 page)

Nausea welled inside Ashley and she wondered if she might
get sick right here in the car. She needed air, lots of air. Because this couldn’t be happening to them … not after how long and hard they’d worked to get to this point. And worse … it wasn’t just the situation they were facing, but the way Landon was handling it. He had always been strong for her, always been ready to tackle whatever came their way. But this time it was like he had become someone else, a different person. She didn’t know if he was angry or afraid or both, but she couldn’t take another minute of it.

“Listen,” she raised her voice, but managed to keep a slight hold on her control. “I don’t know what lies ahead for us, and neither do you. But I know this …” She was shaking. She turned and pressed her back against the side door, keeping as much distance as she could between them. “I know … I can’t live another day with … with your attitude, Landon. You’re the one who told me I couldn’t stop living just because you were sick, and now —”

She had more to say, about the kids and how they were picking up on his mood and how tragic it would be if Devin stopped thinking they were always happy whenever they were together. But her voice caught, and a rush of tears took her by surprise.

“Ash …” For the first time in a week, the mask of anger or indifference that had made up Landon’s face cracked.

“I can’t do this, Landon.” She began crying so hard she wasn’t sure he could understand her. “I’m scared too. But we can’t shut each other out.” She waved to the place where he was sitting. “I watched you earlier and all I could think was, ‘Who is this guy? And what … what happened to the man I married?’”

Grief flooded Landon’s face, and without waiting another moment he checked the rearview mirror, glanced over his shoulder, and then pulled the car into the parking lot of an abandoned gas station. Landon killed the engine and turned to her. For a long time he said nothing, only hung his head like he was trying to gather his thoughts.

When he looked up there were tears in his eyes, tears for the
first time since his initial asthma attack … since his doctor first began to believe something might be seriously wrong. “I’m sorry …” His hands shook as he took hers. “I’ve … I’ve never felt like this, Ash. I’ve always … been strong for you.”

“I know …” A sob slipped from her throat. “That’s why I’m freaking out here … I know something’s wrong with your lungs, Landon. That kills me … of course it kills me.” She spread her fingers over her chest. “But I can’t go through this if something’s wrong with your heart too. If you stop … stop loving me.”

That was all she needed to say. Landon’s tears came harder, and he pulled her close, hugging her so hard she couldn’t move if she wanted to. “I’m sorry, Ash … I keep … I keep thinking I won’t be any good for you.”

“What?” She squirmed her way free and stared at him, shocked at his words. “Not good for what?”

“For working! Making a living for you and our kids. You can’t … you can’t count on me anymore. Have you thought about that?” His voice was loud with what sounded like anger, but Ashley knew better. Landon was afraid. Raging fires didn’t scare him. He could run into a burning building and never once flinch. But this? The idea of being useless to her? That made him afraid like nothing else had. It terrified him. Scared him to death about what the future held.

She felt the slightest calm cut its way through her sorrow. “Landon …” a few quiet sobs shook her body. “I could never … ever love you … more than I do right now.” She took his hands in hers and held them as tightly as she could. “I don’t love you … for what you can do for our family. For the money you make or … or the work you do.” She touched the place over her heart and then pressed her hand against his chest. “I love you for who you are … inside.”

Her sobs subsided and she reached for a tissue in the glove
box. “I just … I feel like you’ve been a stranger since you came home.” She sniffed and wiped her tears. “Like I don’t know you.”

The fight was gone from him. He slumped against his door and looked at her, just let his eyes get lost in hers for the longest time. “I don’t know how to do this … I … I don’t know how to be weak.”

“You’re not weak!” She leaned closer, imploring him, her voice ringing with passion. “You could never be weak to me.” With everything in her she prayed he could see how deeply she meant this. “You’re the strongest man I know, Landon Blake.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “You taught me how to love, remember?” She settled back in her seat. “The strength it took to do that? It’s still in you. It’ll always be there … no matter what happens with your lungs.”

The uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt and fear were emotions Ashley had rarely seen in her husband. But he adjusted their hands so he was in control, so his hands were holding hers, and he tightened his grip. “You mean that? You really do?”

“Of course.” She laughed, but it came out as another series of sobs. Her arms came around his neck and she held on, willing life into him, praying with every heartbeat that they might be handed a miracle today, that he wouldn’t have a fatal lung disease. When she drew back she searched his eyes, and a smile lifted her lips ever so slightly. “Devin told the whole family, remember? You’re the strongest man in the world.”

He smiled, and again tears gathered in his eyes. “I’ve been such a jerk. To you … to the kids.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ash. I just … I didn’t know how to handle it …” He waited, gathering control of his tears, his emotions. With the shoulder of his navy short-sleeved shirt he wiped his face and breathed deep. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her the way he used to look at her. Before he fell sick. “I love you, Ashley … I don’t want to lose you. We have to pray.”

“I am.” She ran her hand alongside his face and gently she leaned in and kissed him. “I’ll give you a lung myself, if that’s what it takes. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

“I won’t hide my feelings from you … never again.” He kissed her this time, and the moment lasted longer than either of them expected. Long enough that their tears mixed together and she could taste them on her lips. His intensity told her that whatever way he’d given up, he was back in the fight, ready to trust God for whatever the next few hours … or the rest of their lives might bring.

With that certainty, he wiped his face once more and she did the same, and they continued their drive to Indianapolis. They drove in silence, but they held hands the entire way, and Ashley could sense a dramatic change in him. Landon was back. At least he seemed that way for now. After today, there was no telling how the diagnosis might affect him.

The doctor’s office was at the top of a ten-story medical building, and they waited nearly an hour before he could see them. He entered the room with a rush of activity, apologizing for being late and explaining that a procedure had taken longer than he’d expected. He looked at Ashley. “You must be Mrs. Blake?”

Ashley sat stiffly in a chair in the corner of the room. “Yes.” She wondered if the man realized what was at stake today. He probably performed electromyography tests all day long. Every time much was on the line, no doubt. But today’s diagnosis was a matter of life or death. She held her purse tightly against her stomach and waited.

The doctor turned to Landon and explained the test process — nothing new, just what they’d heard before. The needles, the placement, the machine that would determine the disease level of the muscles. “The needles look pretty lethal, but they won’t hurt. They’re so fine they make very little impact.”

Please, God, please … we need a miracle.

I am with you, daughter. I have loved you with an everlasting love.

Ashley felt her anxiety ease.
Still, God, we need more than Your love today … let the doctors be wrong … let Landon’s muscles be fine … please …

The doctor began positioning the needles. From his place on the examination table, Landon looked at her and again relief flooded her being. Because this was Landon looking at her, not some shell of the man she’d married. Whatever the results, they would have each other. However long that might be.

It took less than five minutes for the doctor to get the needles into several dozen locations on Landon’s arms and legs. If he had polymyositis in his lungs it would show up in his other muscles. The doctor checked over each needle, making sure of its placement.

Landon looked like a human pincushion. But his eyes told her he was no longer afraid … he wasn’t anything but hers. Hers and His.
Here we go …
Ashley held her breath. The next minute would determine Landon’s health from this point on, for the rest of their days.
Please, God … be with us…. Thank You for being with us.

“Alright, looks like we’re ready.” The doctor stepped back and crossed the room to the machine. He pushed a series of buttons and then flicked a small lever.

Ashley had no idea what to listen for. Her dad had explained that the series of beats in a diseased muscle would be different depending on the disease. She only knew that after a minute of listening, the doctor would have the final diagnosis. But for some strange reason the room was silent.

She slid to the edge of her chair, her eyes on the machine and then the doctor and back again.
What’s going on?
she wanted to ask. But she couldn’t speak or breathe or move or do anything but wait.
Please, God … please … not Landon.

“Funny,” the doctor adjusted his glasses and squinted down at the machine. “It’s working.” He checked his paperwork again, and once more looked over the needles sticking out from all over Landon’s body. “Let’s try it again.” He ran through the series of buttons once more, and again flipped the switch.

They all waited, but again the only sound in the room was silence. Ashley exhaled.

Was it possible that this …

Was the silence proof that he might be …

She couldn’t finish her questions, couldn’t ask them or imagine them. The doctor tried a third time, running through the routine exactly as he had before. Again the room screamed with silence. Finally he flipped off the machine and extracted each needle from Landon’s arms and legs.

A minute passed, a minute that felt like an hour or a week, even. But finally when he’d removed every last needle, the doctor shook his head. “Your muscles are absolutely fine.” He smiled big, the thrill of this diagnosis both sincere and complete. “That sound you heard … that beautiful sound of silence? It means you don’t have polymyositis, Mr. Blake. Absolutely not.”

Shouts of joy went off inside Ashley, and she wondered if she could hold herself together on the chair.
Thank You, God! It’s a miracle. You gave us a miracle! Landon isn’t going to die from this … he has more to do here still. Thank You, Father.

The doctor was going on about how rare it was for a person to have polymyositis in the lungs, but that the diagnosis would’ve been grim indeed. “I’d say you dodged a bullet.” He gave Landon a hand and helped him sit up.

“It’s a miracle.” Ashley couldn’t stop herself. She hated the idea of chalking this moment up to some random gift of fate. “We prayed, doctor. Every other test showed he might have the disease.”

“Very well,” the man smiled at her — not quite believing the idea, but not wanting to come against it either. “A miracle it is.”

Landon’s expression was frozen, as if he still couldn’t believe what the doctor had said. “If I don’t have it, then … does that … does it mean I’m going to be fine? That … that I can return to work?”

Ashley felt her elation take a dive. Did he have to ask about that now, when they had so much to celebrate? Her dad had already told her that even if Landon didn’t have polymyositis, he had something wrong with his lungs. She wondered if this doctor was aware of that.

The man looked at Landon’s chart, at the notes that had obviously been handed to him from Landon’s other doctors. “From what I can tell, you’re on a permanent disability from fighting fires.” He looked up. “Is that what you’ve been told?”

Ashley closed her eyes and felt her stomach drop to her knees.
Dear God,… not now. Please … it’s so much for him to deal with. Help him, Lord.

Of all the verses that might flash in her mind, Ashley was certain this was the only one that could’ve breathed hope into her once again:

I know the plans I have for Landon, daughter … plans to give him a hope and a future.

God still had plans for Landon here on earth — definitely. But across the room the doctor was assuring Landon that since he didn’t have polymyositis, he definitely had some form of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.

“COPD, it’s called.” His expression was more matter-of-fact than regretful. “You can most likely return to work, but it’ll be at a desk, Mr. Blake. One fire like the last one you were in and you might not make it out.”

The reality made Ashley dizzy. Landon might not have a fatal disease, but his career was dead. He would never fight fires again.
Ashley felt the oxygen leave the room, felt an oppression squeeze in around them. They thanked the doctor, and Landon dressed again. This time he didn’t put up a cool front, or pretend not to care. As they walked to the car, he slipped his arm around her waist and leaned on her, drawing strength from her.

When they reached the van she saw that his tears were back — the man she had only seen cry a handful of times in her entire life was crying for the second time today. Sure he was going to live — and for that he was certainly grateful. But Landon was a firefighter. It was the job he felt born to do, the job he loved. But with today’s appointment, something he had only dreaded was confirmed true.

His days of fighting fires were over.

Ashey offered to drive, but Landon shook his head. The look in his eyes was clear. He couldn’t fight fires, but he could drive her home. At least that. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She remembered what Jenny Flanigan had told her earlier that day. When God’s people couldn’t take another step, He was there to carry them. The truth soothed the broken places in her heart and soul, and as they pulled out of the parking lot, Ashley was convinced of one thing: If she could’ve looked back at their path from the medical building to the van, she wouldn’t have seen two sets of footprints leading to their van.