Mother's Promise (19 page)

“I would have to go to Tallahassee?” Alarm bells went off as Rachel imagined how Justin might take the news of her having to leave.

“Just for the testing and evaluation.” He frowned. “Can you folks ride on an airplane?”

“Yes.”

“Then we can make arrangements for you to fly up there, go through the process, and be back the same day.”

“And after this evaluation?”

“My guess is that they will require you to perform a certain number of hours of long-term as well as crisis therapy hopefully under my direct supervision, but barring that they will send someone to supervise and observe. There will no doubt be some classes, but I think we can arrange for you to do the course work online. You have a computer?”

“Only the laptop here.”

“Fine. You can use that at home on your days off.” He made some figures on a scratch pad and then beamed at her. “The way I see it, you will finish your probationary period at about the same time you become fully certified, right after the New Year. How does that sound?”

A little overwhelming
, Rachel wanted to admit. “And what if the people in Tallahassee have other ideas? How do you know—?”

Paul chuckled. “Sometimes, Rachel, it's not how you know—it's
who
you know.”

Within days Paul had arranged the trip to the state capital. Because she would not get back to Sarasota until well after dark, Justin would spend the night with Hester and John, but she had promised him that she would tell him all about the airplane ride no matter how late she got back.

On the return flight, Rachel could not help feeling hopeful. Her interview with the certification board had gone well. There were courses she would need to complete, but the good news was that she could do most of the work online or attend a class right in Sarasota. The person she had spoken to had indicated that he saw no problem with the state awarding her a provisional license. With that she could work—with supervision—while she completed the other requirements for certification.

“Paul Cox will be an excellent mentor for you during this time,” the state employee had said.

Rachel held on to those words as the airplane engines droned and she marveled at the sensation of flying above a field of clouds that looked like marshmallows. Silently, she thanked God for the many blessings He had sent her way over this last month. Then remembering James counseling her that “it never hurts to ask” when she had hesitated to pray for another chance to bring a child to term, she decided to ask for one more blessing.

“Please guide me in the ways that will allow Justin to find his way in this new life we've started,” she murmured, and then she closed her eyes as the airplane began its descent.

“Justin can't wait to hear all about your trip,” Hester announced after she'd picked Rachel up at the airport. “I've got supper waiting. I'll bet you barely ate all day.”

It was true. She'd been too nervous about the plane trip and the meetings in Tallahassee to take more than a couple of bites of toast for her breakfast. Lunch had been a sandwich from a vending machine in the state office building, and supper had been a tiny bag of miniature pretzels and a cup of hot tea on the plane.

“I am a little hungry,” she admitted. “But it's not so late. Justin and I can go home after all and—”

“After you have a decent meal,” Hester said as she waited for the traffic light to change.

Rachel knew better than to argue and, besides, it would be nice to talk about everything that had happened that day. “It feels like I've been gone for a week,” she admitted.

Hester smiled and then focused all of her attention on the road. After they'd gone past the bridge that led to the islands that separated the bay from the Gulf of Mexico, they passed the gigantic statue of the sailor kissing the nurse based on the famous photograph from the victory celebration at the end of World War II.

“Still kissing,” Hester murmured.

Rachel smiled. “Do you think the real sailor and nurse ever got together?”

“Oh, you are such a romantic,” Hester teased, but then her smile faded. “Do you think you'll ever—I mean it's been what? Nearly two years?”

“Ja.” In some ways the time seemed such a brief period, Justin aging from ten years old to twelve. On the other hand the almost two years that had passed since James's death seemed much longer. Rachel supposed that Hester's question was perfectly normal, but she wasn't ready to think about the idea that she might ever love another man the way she had loved James.

“How are your friends doing? The couple that lost their child?” she said instead.

Hester clutched the steering wheel a little tighter and shook her head. “It's a mess. Emma and Jeannie were never just sisters. They've always been best friends as well. But now with one child dead and the other in jail—now when they need each other the most, they barely speak.”

“I'm so sorry for them and for you, having to struggle with how best to help them.”

“You know me—Little Miss Fix-It, as John sometimes calls me. But this I can't fix. I can't even ease their pain a little bit.” Her shoulders sagged with weariness. “I thought I understood grief. I mean, all those years watching my mother get sicker and sicker …”

Hester's mother had died of Lou Gehrig's disease a few years before she met John. Hester had been her mother's caregiver for five long years. Rachel could only imagine how awful it had been for her, a trained nurse, standing helplessly by and watching a loved one struggle without being able to offer any help beyond compassion and comfort.

But the car accident that had ripped apart the lives of Hester's friends was a very different kind of grieving. “I imagine that they are all struggling with the suddenness of their loss—and they are fighting their anger as well.”

“That's it exactly. It was all so senseless, and yet it has happened and how are they supposed to get through it? Even if Emma's daughter doesn't go to jail, how is she going to live with what happened?” She glanced over at Rachel. “I mean, you must have felt some of that when James died—so sudden and senseless.”

“Ja. We all struggled to find forgiveness. I think Justin may be struggling still. It's very hard for the children.”

“So how did you get through it?”

“Just after I lost my job with the school system I heard about a program called VORP. It stands for Victim Offender Reconciliation Program. It was all about victims of a crime or accident finding a way to forgive the offender.”

“I can't even think how you would begin to do that,” Hester said.

“I'll admit that it took me awhile to come to the point where I wanted any part of facing the young man who was driving his car with a blood alcohol content three times the legal limit.”

“You had to be so angry.”

“I was furious,” Rachel admitted. “In a blink of an eye that young man had changed our lives forever and all for what? Because he didn't think? Because the last person to see him didn't take his car keys and prevent him from driving? It was done, and we had to find our way. Our way has always been forgiveness.”

As they made the rest of the drive to Hester's place, Rachel told her about the program—how she and Justin and others from their extended family had met with the young man. How they had learned that he was a husband and father who had recently lost his job. “Something he and I had in common,” Rachel said. And most of all she spoke of how with the help of a trained mediator they were able to create a sort of contract so the man could make amends. “Get help with his drinking problem. Go back to school. Speak out to other young people to help them see the consequences of his action.”

“VORP,” Hester said softly to herself as she turned onto the lane leading to the farmhouse. “Rachel, I hate to ask, but would you be willing to meet my friend Jeannie—she's the one whose daughter was killed—and tell her about this?”

“Of course. Anything I can do that might help.” The lights from the farmhouse streaked the yard as Hester drove past the packinghouse and other outbuildings. She parked beside the main house and tooted the horn.

Rachel couldn't stifle a yelp of pure pleasure when she saw Justin come bounding down the porch steps. She got out of the car and held open her arms, and her son came to her.

“How was it?” he asked. “Were you scared? Was it bumpy and stuff?”

“It was like riding on a cloud,” she told him as they walked back to the house arm in arm. “Did you miss me?”

Justin ducked his head. “I had school, and you were only gone for the day.”

“So you didn't miss me?” she teased.

He looked up at her then and grinned. “Maybe a little,” he admitted.

She ruffled his hair. “I don't know about you, but I am starving,” she said.

“Zeke's here,” Justin said. “He's been playing his guitar and showing me some chords.”

Inside, Zeke Shepherd was sitting on the rag rug that lined the hardwood floor in the living room strumming his guitar.

Such a small thing, Rachel thought. A little music always brings such pleasure.

“Showtime,” Zeke said and handed Justin the instrument.

“Supper time first,” Hester instructed, “and then if you guys finish every bite of your vegetables, it will be showtime.”

Justin grinned at Zeke, and Rachel couldn't help but think that the prayer she'd said on the plane had been answered. Maybe they were going to be all right—both of them.

It was the music that had attracted Darcy to the room in the first place. She'd been making her weekly tour of the building, checking to be sure that the housekeeping staff was doing their job to the standards she had set for them and that those on the nursing staff were tending to patients and staying on top of their reports.

Oh, she knew how the word of her tour spread from department to department and wing to wing as she made her rounds. Well, if people lived in fear of her visits, then they probably weren't doing their job. She had made it plain from day one that she would accept no excuses and that she expected people to take responsibility if anything was amiss—and fix it.

She had almost completed her tour and had a list of infractions that was disturbingly long when she heard the music. A couple of nursing assistants were standing in the doorway of the activity room. They scurried back to work when they saw Darcy coming.

She sighed. She wasn't a total ogre, after all. Needing a break, Darcy put her phone on vibrate and smiled as she heard the voices of the children raised in the ever-inspiring chorus of “This Land Is My Land.”

But when she reached the entrance to the activity room she could not believe what she was seeing. Malcolm Shepherd's homeless brother was sitting in the middle of the floor with a dozen patients gathered around him. He was playing his guitar and appeared to be leading the children in a sing-along. Beside him Rachel Kaufmann was nodding and smiling as she encouraged the children to clap their hands on cue and join in on the chorus.

He might be the brother of the president of the hospital's board—and technically Darcy's boss—but this was unconscionable. The man lived on the streets. She glanced from Zeke to Rachel and waited for Paul's assistant to meet her gaze.

When finally she did, Darcy motioned that she needed to speak with her right away.

“I'll be right back,” Darcy heard Rachel tell Zeke and the children as soon as the song ended. There was a slight pause, and then Zeke started strumming a new tune.

“Who knows this one?” he asked.

Rachel was smiling when she reached the doorway.

Darcy was not.

“Was this your idea?” she demanded in a hushed tone meant for Rachel's ears only.

“You mean Zeke and the music?”

“Of course I mean Zeke. What were you thinking? The man is homeless. Do you have any idea what kind of disease and germs he could be carrying?”