Strong (18 page)

Chapter 22

I've fallen into a comfortable routine over the last month.  I get up early most mornings to run. When I come back, Chase is usually awake and starting his day, studying at the computer or hitting the books.

He goes to therapy several times a week. He's still recovering from three weeks in the hospital, and Dr. Carbondale is also pushing him to find out if the surgery restored any more of his ability, so he's been working hard at therapy every day.

I take him to therapy on my days off. Some days are better than others. He hasn't regained all of his strength yet, and it's wearing on him. Even though Dr. Carbondale had told him his strength would gradually return, it's hard for him to keep encountering setbacks.

One afternoon, his therapist Elsie and I get into a conversation about running. We start to talk about some stretches that I can help Chase with, and some strengthening exercises as well. I mention that I do similar exercises before I run, and soon we delve into a deep discussion about running shoes and times and races.

I notice that Chase doesn't seem particularly pleased with the exchange, so I try to include him in the conversation by telling his therapist, “Chase used to be a runner, too.”

I turn toward him. “Maybe you'll run again some day. We could train together for a race.”

Elsie, however, doesn't seem too convinced. She suggests instead, “There are some really aerodynamic wheelchairs – maybe Kate can push you while she runs.” I'm sure she is trying to be helpful, but I widen my eyes in shock at her less-than-helpful suggestion, while Chase twists his mouth in an odd frown. I find it strange that she isn't more encouraging about Chase walking again.

“Or you could strengthen these babies to push yourself,” she smiles as she pats his biceps.

On the way back to Chase's house, I tell him, “I don't think she was serious about the wheelchair.”

He quietly says, “Yeah.”

Over the next few days, Chase becomes strangely withdrawn. I try to talk to him about wedding plans. My job. Anything. He doesn't bite, and I can't seem to shake him out of his funk.

I take the opportunity to talk to him as he's eating breakfast one morning, before he retreats back to his room to study or whatever he does in there.  I'm not convinced that he's been doing anything productive for the past several days.

“
Chase,” I begin.

He doesn't look up.

“Chase, we need to talk,” I insist.

“
About what?” He still doesn't look up. He's pushed away his plate and focuses intently on his coffee mug.

“
You,” I say. “Us.”

He takes a deep breath and blows it out all at once. “Yeah. I'm not sure what to say.” He pauses and then looks straight at me. “I don't think I'm ready to get married.”

I feel almost like I did when I thought Chase was dead – like I've been punched in the stomach and my breakfast is going to come back up. Tears sting my eyes as my ears start to ring. I never thought I would feel anything so painful again, but I think that this pain may be even more intense.  It's the pain of rejection.

“
What?” My voice squeaks.

“
I'm just trying to work through some stuff. It doesn't have anything to do with you,” he tells me in a matter-of-fact way.

“
You're talking about calling off
our wedding
, and you're telling me it doesn't have anything to do with 
me
?” The pitch of my voice is rising although I'm desperately trying to maintain control. “It has
everything
to do with me!”

“
Kate, it's not like that. I love you. We'll still get married. I've just got to get past some stuff first.”  His voice is so even that I feel like I want to slap him. How can he not have any emotion at all while he's telling me any of this? Has he turned off part of himself? This is not the Chase I know.

“
Why don't you talk to me?” I cry. “You know you can trust me with anything. I want to help you.”

I take his dishes to the sink and start washing frantically. My back is turned toward him, but I know he can hear me sobbing.
Why won't he talk??

Finally I hear his voice. It's almost a whisper. “I can't talk to you because it
is
about you.”

A new wave of nausea hits me. Was he lying to me a minute ago?  He just said it wasn't about me, but now he's saying it is about me.

“You just said it
wasn't
about me. Which is it, Chase?!” I demand.

What if he doesn't love me anymore? Did he lie to me about that, too?

He is trying to figure out how to break it to me without breaking me.

He doesn't respond. I can tell by his face that he's processing several conflicting emotions.

I swallow hard. “Fine,” I say quietly, hoping I can staunch the flow of tears until I get to my room.  “I will pack my things.” I shakily make my way toward the stairs, biting my lip until I can taste blood.

“
Katie,” he whispers.

I turn back toward him.

“I still love you. Please stay.” He doesn't look at me, but I nod anyway and head to my room. 

I can't make sense of what just happened, but I spend hours crying.

I dial Scarlett's number. “Can you come over?” My voice trembles. I sound like a little girl. Scarlett can tell something is very wrong.

“
I'll be there in five minutes,” she says. I'm glad she lives just down the street.

I wait at the door until she comes up the walk. I open the door and lead her quickly to my room where I dissolve in yet another round of tears. She puts her arm around me and I weep on her shoulder.

I find control once again and spill the events of the past few hours.

Scarlett's eyes grow wide with shock. “Really? That doesn't sound like Chase at all.”

“I know,” I lament. “Ever since I took him to therapy a few days ago, he has completely shut down. It's so weird.”

“
Did something happen at therapy that might have upset him?” She presses.

“
I was talking with the therapist about running. She made some stupid comment about me pushing Chase in a wheelchair if he wanted to run with me. She wasn't very encouraging. I found it pretty insensitive, actually.”

Scarlett's eyebrows crease into a frown. “He loved running, Kate. I mean, he
lived
for running. I'm sure it was a challenge to let go of all of his other sports, but when he had to stop running probably felt like a part of him was dying.”

“
I hate that he can't run with me. It's my release and I wish we could share it.”

Scarlett offers to talk to Chase.

I nod. “Thank you, Scarlett. I'm glad we're friends.”

She envelopes me in another hug. “It will be okay,” she assures me. “Chase is in love with you and that will never change
.
Whatever he's working through, it's something he has to work through with God helping him. Just pray for him. And let me pray for you.”

She gently puts her arm around my shoulders and confidently prays, “Lord, our God, I pray for Chase. I pray that you would give him grace for whatever he is going through right now. Please comfort Kate as she's hurting. Give her an understanding heart and forgiveness for Chase. Most of all, give her your peace in her heart. In Jesus' Name, Amen.”

“Thank you, Scarlett.” I hope that one day I will have the confidence that Scarlett has, that God hears and answers my prayers.

I start packing a small overnight bag. I decide that I will take tomorrow off from work and head back to Eagle Canyon for a long weekend to give Chase some space and give my head a chance to clear.  I need to take care of some wedding plans there, but now I don't even know how to proceed. Maybe I need to cancel everything.

When I go back downstairs, I don't see Chase. He must be in his room. I knock on his door and carefully inch the door open. 

His eyes meet mine, but he is still stoic.

“I'm going to go home for the weekend,” I tell him. “I took tomorrow off, but I will be back on Sunday night. I have to work Monday.”

I kiss him on the forehead and walk out swiftly, before he has a chance to say anything.

I text Fiona:
Coming home 4 weekend. Tell Mom & Dad. Be home around 7.
I take a deep breath and start my truck. I can't cry while I'm driving. I will wait until I get home.

If I have any tears left.

Chapter 23

After a dinner of my mom's best comfort food, I tell my family what happened.  I am fully expecting my parents – or at least my mom – to say, “I told you so.” But they don't. They just listen. They let me cry. They listen some more.

Fiona sleeps next to me in my bed. I'm thankful to be home. Even though I'm thoroughly exhausted, I can't fall asleep right away. I know I should pray. I should be asking God to help me. But I don't know how. It was one thing to find strength for Chase when he was in a coma. It's another thing to find strength to battle feelings of hurt, anger, rejection.

I have to say something to start the conversation, right?

God, please help me.
I'm mostly mouthing out the words because I don't want to wake Fiona. I stop there. I'm not sure what else to say. But even with those words, I feel a warmth in my heart. I know I'm turning in the right direction.

I start to think about the married couples I know, especially the ones who have been married for a long time. What makes it work?

My aunt Linda and uncle Daniel come to mind. They survived the worst offense to any marriage. Uncle Daniel had an affair. They almost divorced. I was too young to really understand what was happening, but my aunt Linda lived with us for several months during that time. She and I grew very close, and she told me, much later, about everything she and Uncle Daniel went through. They went to marriage counseling, but they also grew immensely in their faith during that time. Now, all I know is that they are the most happily married couple I've ever met. I'm sure it wasn't easy for them. There must have been a lot of forgiveness involved.

They moved from Eagle Canyon several years ago to be closer to Uncle Daniel's family in California. I miss Aunt Linda like crazy.  Everything with Chase has happened so fast that I haven't told her much about him. I've sent her a few Facebook messages, and that's it. Maybe I should call her.

Then I think of my parents. Have they always been happy? I can remember small fights now and then, but they always respected each other. I assume that the most difficult period in their marriage was when my mom went through a deep depression when I was in middle school. I didn't realize until I was older that my mother had battled depression. She was so withdrawn and angry during that time. Kind of like Chase had been yesterday. I'm sure that took a toll on my parents' marriage. I wonder how they got through it.

With a sigh I realize that no one is perfect. Not even my wonderfully handsome, sweet, kind fiance is perfect. I know that he makes me stronger. But Chase can't be my only source of strength.

I will have to find my strength in the One who has no weakness.

I close my eyes and finally feel peaceful enough to fall asleep. The last words in my mind are,
Please, God, help me to be strong.  And please help Chase
.

I decide in the morning that I will not focus on any wedding planning – or canceling – this weekend. I will just enjoy being home. Being me. Letting my family spoil me.

My mom suggests we go out for lunch. There aren't many tourists right now, so Eagle Canyon is a little quieter than it was at the holidays. My mom pulls in at the diner.

This is going to be torture
, I think, remembering my outing with Chase the second time we met. I don't say anything.

My mom must have a special instinct for such things because she quickly suggests, “There's a new little pizza place on Main Street...”

I just nod and breathe a sigh of relief.

As soon as we order lunch, I ask my mom nervously, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.”

“
Was it hard on your marriage when you were depressed?”

A thoughtful look fills her eyes. She eventually starts with, “Marriage
isn't
easy, Katherine. Any couple that has been married for longer than a few years will tell you that. It requires work and self-sacrifice.”

I raise my eyebrows as I wait for her to answer the rest of my question.

“Of course, it was hard on our marriage. It took Dad a long time to figure out that I wasn't mad at him. It took
me
a long time to figure that out, too. Depression is like that – I felt so angry and discouraged and I tried to come up with a reason why. I started to blame Dad and all the circumstances in my life.”

“
Do you think Chase is depressed?” I ask.

“
He could be,” she agrees. “Most people go through some kind of depression in their lives. He has been through so much in such a short amount of time. So have you.”

I swallow my pride and admit to her, “I can see why you wanted us to slow down.”

“This is good practice for you and Chase,” my mom says. “A successful relationship isn't about making yourself happy. It's about making the other person happy, putting their needs before your own, standing by them no matter what.”

My throat tightens. I want to be there for Chase. But what if he doesn't want me anymore?

“I behaved terribly sometimes and I treated Dad so poorly, I couldn't believe he didn't just walk out,” she smiles an embarrassed smile. “He just told me that he loved me every. single. day.”

No wonder I love my dad so much. He's so solid. So committed. So loving.

She finishes by saying, “You have find other people to rely on in addition to each other – friends and family. If you only rely on each other, you will both burn out really fast.”

I know that I have the support to remain loyal to Chase, for whatever he's going through. It still doesn't feel good, but I know I'm doing the right thing. Some day, Chase will have to love me through something difficult.

I have a remarkably good time with my mom. It shouldn't surprise me, but maybe this is the beginning of me truly beginning to act like an adult. I appreciate our conversation. I also can't believe I've managed to let Chase out of my mind for a few hours.

The rest of the weekend is spent watching movies, running, and even playing video games with my little brother.  It turns out to be the perfect break.

Late on Saturday afternoon, my mom needs a few things for dinner, so I offer to run to the grocery store.  While I'm perusing the dairy section for whipping cream, I hear a familiar voice, “Katherine?” It's the German-accented pronunciation of my name, coming from Oma. I turn to face her just as Chelsea comes around the corner with a grocery cart.

“
Kate!” She exclaims. “I didn't know you were here.”

I try to muster my most genuine smile and receive her hug and Oma's peck on the cheek. “I'm surprised to see you, too,” I tell Chelsea.

“Oh, yeah. I just came to visit Oma for the weekend. We decided to stay at the cabin,” Chelsea informs me. “Where's Chase?”

As much as I try, I can't hide my injury. My face displays it clear as day.

“What happened?” Chelsea asks, gravely concerned. I'm grateful that Oma has already moved ahead of us to continue shopping. I don't know how she would take the news.

I stifle my tears and tell her bluntly, “Chase is having second thoughts.”

“What???” She practically screams. “No way! Chase loves you, Kate. What on earth is going on?”

I'm not sure what to say, so I just repeat what he told me. “He said he's not ready to get married, that's all. So, I'm just trying to give him some space.”

Chelsea is clearly as bewildered as I am. She squeezes me tight for a long moment. It would normally make me feel awkward to be hugging someone in the grocery store, but I'm comforted by the woman who will hopefully still be my sister-in-law soon.

“
I'm sorry, Kate. This must be terrible for you, but I
know
Chase. There's no way he's letting you go. Just hang in there, okay?” Chelsea's words hearten me considerably.

I tell her that I will call her later in the week.

“Say good-bye to Oma for me,” I tell her as we part. I hope it won't be good-bye forever.

After church on Sunday morning, I ask my parents for one last bit of advice before I leave. Neither one of them jumps right in. Soon my dad says, “Give him some time.”

It's not really the groundbreaking counsel I was hoping for, but it's a start.

“
He said he still loves you. You have no reason not to believe him.” I agree with his reasoning, but I didn't see it in Chase's eyes, even though I heard the words from his mouth.

“
What should I do about the wedding?”

My mother advises me to wait a week. If Chase doesn't make any decisions, we will have to postpone. At least. The thought makes me sick after all the planning I've done in such a short amount of time. Luckily, our locations will be fairly easy to re-book if we have to.

What about invitations? They're ready to go out. They're even stamped. I decide to go with my mom's advice and wait one week. One week. That's all the time I can afford.
It's a good thing that my mom and Mrs. Nichols had sent out some simple
save the date
postcards while Chase was still in the hospital.

My parents kiss and hug me profusely before I leave to return to Madison.

“Don't worry, honey,” my father says soothingly.  “Everything will work out.”

I give a small nod and pray that he's right.

On the drive home, I pray. “God, please help me to love Chase no matter what. You told me to trust You. Please help me. And please help Chase.”

I let myself into the Nichols' house and silently make my way up the stairs. I hope that no one hears me, although I really should let them know I'm back. I sit down on my bed – Chase's bed – and force myself to be calm. I take a few minutes to freshen up and then I look for Chase.

Instead I find his mom.

“
Kate!” She hugs me. “I hope you had a lovely weekend at home. Did you get a lot done?”

I flash her a puzzled look.
She must think I was planning for the wedding while I was back home. Does she not know that Chase is having second thoughts?

“
Um, yeah.” It's the safest answer I can give.

“
Dinner will be ready in about half an hour,” she informs me.

“
Would you like any help?” I offer.

“
No, dear, just get yourself settled.” She pats my shoulder and bustles off to the kitchen.

I find Chase in his room again. He doesn't look up when I enter, but when I greet him with a shy
hello,
he looks startled.

“
Hi, Katie.”

I move over and kiss him on the forehead. I've never felt uncomfortable around Chase until now.

“I just wanted to let you know I'm home,” I tell him and leave just as silently as I came. I wish he would have just bounced back over the weekend, but obviously he's still working through
whatever it is.

Dinner is painfully quiet, but Mr. and Mrs. Nichols don't notice anything different between Chase and me; or at least, they don't let on if they do.

Monday morning is excruciating. I go out to run. I go to work. I come home and help with dinner.  I don't make any more wedding plans.

On Tuesday, my day off, I avoid Chase all together. I make a few phone calls, I run some errands, but mostly, I stay in my room, trying to distract myself.