The Desire (21 page)

I
t was Friday morning, four days since Christina had her baby. Michele was as nervous as she could be. Today was the big day. Her first doctor appointment totally focused on their infertility problem. She had no idea what to expect. Allan was taking off work and was supposed to meet her there. She grabbed her purse and headed out to the garage.

After pushing the garage door button and turning on the car, she pulled her phone out of her purse to call Allan. He picked up after a few rings. “You remembered our doctor appointment, right?”

“I've already left the office.”

“Then you should get there before me,” she said. “Why don't you sign in for us?”

“Actually, you'll still get there before me.”

“Why? Your office is closer to the doctor's than our house.”

“It is, but I have a quick stop to make first.”

“Allan . . .”

“Don't worry. It'll be quick.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just a quick stop to Ray's house. Remember? Last night he called about that report.”

She didn't remember.

“The orphanage report, remember? The rest of the pledges came in from the other churches, so I updated the report.”

“I remember you saying something about it. But I thought Ray was going to Africa later next week.”

“He is.”

“So why does he need your report now? Couldn't you just send it to him as an email attachment?”

“He has some time this afternoon and wants to look it over before tomorrow. I think he's working on something he wants to share with the whole church this Sunday during the announcements. I did send it to him as an attachment, but he's working at home today trying to finish some chores before the Africa trip. He said his printer's broken.”

“But if you stop at Ray's, you guys will start talking, and you'll be late. The receptionist told me this doctor is very punctual. He doesn't like making patients wait in the waiting room.”

“I won't be late. I'll just drop it off and come right over. He can't talk anyway. He's going to be pressure cleaning his house. Don't worry.”

With the report resting in a manila folder on the passenger seat, Allan drove the familiar ten-minute ride to Ray's house. But when he turned onto Ray's street, he could see that something was wrong. Halfway down, a red fire truck with flashing lights blocked most of the road. Parked next to it was an ambulance, its emergency lights also flashing. A small crowd had gathered in a huddle on the sidewalk.

“What in the world?”

They seemed to be at Ray's house.

“Oh no.” He closed the distance slowly, keeping an eye out for Ray's neighbors. There wasn't any smoke or evidence of a fire. No police cars. He pulled up as close as he could, parked the car by the curb, and got out, leaving the report on the seat.

When he reached the crowd, it was now obvious; the emergency vehicles were parked at Ray's house. “Do you know what's going on?” he asked an elderly man.

“I think it's the guy who lives in that house. I'm not sure what happened to him. Some kind of accident.”

“I think he got electrocuted,” the woman next to him said. “See that big pressure sprayer over by the side of the house? Ray, that's the man who lives there, he was using that a little while ago. I saw him earlier when I walked my dog. Water and electricity don't mix.”

“Has anyone seen him?” Allan asked.

“I think they're over there working on him now,” the man said, “behind those bushes. I went over there, but they asked me to move back and give them some space.”

Allan didn't wait. He headed right for the bushes. As he stepped around them, he saw Ray wrapped in blankets from the waist down, being strapped to a gurney. His face was racked with pain. Allan rushed over. “Ray, what happened!”

Ray looked up. “I'm such an idiot. Fell off the ladder. Pretty sure I broke my legs.”

“Both of them?”

“Are you family?” the paramedic asked.

“Just good friends,” Allan said. “You think that's true?”

“Could be,” the paramedic said.

“One of them's definitely broken,” the other paramedic said. “Compound fracture. The other leg might be.”

“Oh Ray, I'm so sorry. Is Julie here?”

“No. She'd be worried sick if she saw this. She's out shopping with the kids. Thankfully, I had my phone in my pocket, so I called 911. What are you doing here?”

“I brought over the report with the new figures. Our call last night?”

“Oh yeah.” His face contorted with pain. “Man, this hurts.”

“We need to load him up.” The paramedic signaled for Allan to step back.

“You want me to call Julie, let her know what's going on?”

“She knows. I called her while I was waiting for help to arrive. She's going to meet me at the hospital.” The paramedic started pushing Ray toward the ambulance. “One thing you could do, though.”

“Anything,” Allan said.

“Could you follow us to the hospital, see where they take me? Then meet Julie in the waiting room and show her where I'm at.”

“Sure, Ray.”

“And maybe on the way, could you call the church office, so the secretary can let the guys on staff know what's going on? Obviously, I'm not gonna make it to church on Sunday.”

“Right, I'll call them. Don't worry about it.”

“We've gotta go,” the paramedic said.

They lifted him up and slid the gurney into the back of the ambulance. As the doors closed, Allan remembered the report. What should he do with it now? Then he realized, it didn't matter. Ray couldn't do anything with it. With a compound fracture, they'd probably have to do surgery. With both legs broken, he might have to be in a wheelchair for a while.

Then another realization hit as he ran back to his car. The Africa trip. Ray couldn't go to Africa now.

The ambulance drove by. Allan pulled his car right behind it.

M
ichele stepped out of the doctor's office and began walking toward her car in the parking lot. She was an emotional wreck.

First, there was the absolute annoyance and irritation at Allan as she waited alone in the waiting room, alternating between being worried sick that something had happened to him and angry that he had gotten distracted by something and had forgotten their appointment. Then, just as the nurse ushered her—alone—into the examination room, a quick text from Allan saying Ray had been in some kind of terrible accident and was being rushed to the emergency room.

She was relieved that Allan was okay but was now worried sick about Ray. She couldn't stay angry at Allan for missing their appointment over something like that. On the other hand, she hated having to meet the doctor alone, especially after hearing what her nurse had to say about her infertility situation.

As she opened her car door, Allan pulled up beside her. A look of dread was all over his face.

“I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you,” he said as he got out of the car.

“Me too.”

“I thought it would just take a minute to drop that report off.” He walked toward her.

She sighed. “I know it wasn't your fault.” They hugged. She felt like crying but held it in.

“It was awful, Michele. I've never seen a compound fracture before.”

She pulled back and looked into his face. “Allan, I don't really want to hear the details. You know how I am about things like that.”

“I know. I couldn't see very much anyway. He had a blanket wrapped around his legs. But the angle of his leg on the gurney—”

“Allan . . .”

“I'm sorry. I'll stop.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

“Eventually. But I'm pretty sure he'll need surgery on that leg. Julie's with him now. That's really why I was late. As they were putting Ray into the ambulance, he asked if I could meet her there at the ER, show her where he was. I didn't see how I could say no.”

“I don't either.” Poor Julie. What a horrible thing to have to go through. “Can we at least go to lunch together now, so I can fill you in on what the doctor said?”

A long pause.

“What's the matter?”

“I can't,” Allan said. “My boss called on the way over. A big client is complaining about something one of the other guys did, and he wants me to drive right over there and try to straighten it out.”

She sighed again. This day was going from bad to worse.

He hugged her again. “I'm so sorry, Michele. I really do
want to hear everything the doctor said. Can we talk about it over dinner?”

“I guess we'll have to.”

“Was the news mostly encouraging or discouraging?”

“Discouraging,” she said. “I'm not sure I heard anything encouraging.”

Michele had just arrived home. Allan had prayed with her before he'd driven to work, which helped for a little while. As she pushed the garage door button and got out of the car, she felt unsure if God had heard Allan's prayers. The feeling of gloom and discouragement had returned.

She walked through the garage and across the short sidewalk that led to the back of their townhome. As she unlocked the patio door, she heard the doorbell ring. Must be Jean, her sister-in-law. Michele had called her just after she and Allan had parted and invited her over for coffee. Maybe Jean could help her get unstuck from the pit she had fallen into.

She set her purse down on the counter and hurried to the front door. “Hey, Jean, thanks for coming over. Where are the kids?”

“Your mom said she wasn't doing anything for a couple of hours, so it's just me.”

Michele was glad. She loved Jean's kids, but it would be nice to talk without constant interruption. She closed the door behind her and walked toward the kitchen. “I thought we'd just use the Keurig, if that's okay. I put some fresh water in it this morning.” She pointed to a rectangular ceramic bowl filled with single-cup coffee containers. “Pick whichever one you like. The half-and-half and hazelnut creamer are in the
fridge. I'll be right back. I just want to change into something more comfortable.”

“Which coffee do you want?” Jean said. “In case you're not back when mine's done.”

Michele walked over and picked out the one she liked. “I won't be a minute.”

She came back to find Jean fixing her own coffee. She had just gotten Michele's started. “It's a little humid out there. Want to just sit in here?” Michele pointed toward the living room.

“Definitely. I walked over here, and I still feel pretty sticky. The A/C feels nice.” Jean picked out the chair she always sat in when she visited.

Michele walked her coffee over and sat across from her.

“So I take it the doctor visit didn't go too well.”

Michele sipped her coffee, shaking her head no.

“Did they find something wrong already?”

“No, it was nothing like that. I wish it was that easy. The problem is, it's very involved and complicated trying to diagnose this kind of thing. I just saw my new primary care doctor today, and she did a fairly basic exam. But from what she told me and what her nurse said before she came in, we've got a pretty long road ahead. And an expensive one. That's really the most discouraging thing I'm dealing with right now, the money.”

“But I thought you guys had insurance through Allan's work.”

“We do. Pretty good insurance, I thought.”

“But it won't cover this? All these infertility expenses?”

“It doesn't sound like it. I've gotta do a lot more checking, but it sounds like the insurance may only cover the diagnostic side, figuring out what's medically wrong with Allan or me. If it turns out something is, most of the time, the infertility
treatments themselves aren't covered. And they're not cheap. Most of the cost is out-of-pocket.”

Jean didn't say anything for a moment. “You poor thing.”

“She had some brochures to give me with a bunch of websites to look up. But I guess she's had enough patients come in with this problem, so she's looked into what they'd be facing. Apparently, there are a few work-arounds that might force the insurance companies to cover some of it. But she told me, we really needed to be setting lots of money aside if we're serious about this.”

“Like how much?”

Michele took another sip and set her coffee on the coffee table. “Thousands. Depending on what's wrong and how long it takes, could be tens of thousands.”

“Oh my gosh. I had no idea,” Jean said. “And adoption's even worse. A cousin of mine adopted a little girl, and they spent almost twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“This isn't working.”

“What isn't?”

“Having you over. You were supposed to cheer me up.”

“I'm sorry.” She shook her head. “I don't know what to say. I don't understand why people make having babies so expensive. And why insurance won't cover it.”

“Me neither.” And that was so frustrating to Michele. If she and Allan could get pregnant the old-fashioned way, the whole thing would be covered by insurance right off the bat. She wondered if she and Allan had missed God completely when they turned Christina down. “It almost looks like a closing door at this point.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Jean said. “Don't give up yet.”

“I'm not giving up. I just don't know what to do or what to tell Allan when he gets home.”

“Did the doctor give you any ideas?”

“She did, for now. The insurance will still cover the first part, all the tests Allan and I need to take. So we'll start there. I guess it will help some to know what the problem is. If we do get that far. But it sounds like sometimes, you don't even know after you run all the tests. We could go through all this and still come up empty-handed, not sure what the problem is.” The look on Jean's face wasn't helping. If anything, Michele had just ruined her day with all this.

Neither one said anything for a few moments.

“We'll just have to start praying more,” Jean finally said. “Being helpless isn't always a bad place to be.”

Being helpless.
That reminded Michele of something she'd read in the children's ministry notebook a few mornings ago. She set her coffee down, got up, and walked back into the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To get this.” She picked up the notebook. “Something you said reminded me of something I read in this a little while ago.” She brought it back to her chair and opened it up, then began scanning the first few pages.

“Is that the notebook Julie gave you for the children's ministry?”

“Yes. I just remembered something when you talked about being helpless, about it not being a bad place to be.” She read a few more paragraphs. “Here it is. Not in the lesson for the kids but in a section for the parents. The author says you can't really help your kids if you're not walking in the things you're trying to teach them. So he takes the first part of each lesson and talks to the parents. The whole premise of the book is that there are four basic beliefs every Christian needs to own, and that all of Christ's commands tie back to
one of these four beliefs. We talked about the middle two. Loving God and loving others.”

“So what's this one?” Jean asked.

“The first one, humility. Well, ‘Humble yourself.' That's how he puts it.” She found the paragraph and read it again. “He says humbling yourself means thinking of yourself as a helpless person, like a spiritual beggar who has nothing to give.”

“Feeling helpless is a kind of humility?” Jean said.

“In a way, it is. He's saying we can't fix ourselves or our situation. So we're supposed to come to God aware that we need him for everything. And if we ask for God's help with that attitude, he always will.” Just rereading the words began to stir something in Michele's heart.

“I like that,” Jean said. “And it definitely describes your situation right now.”

Michele closed the notebook. It definitely did. She was helpless. Her situation was helpless . . . and hopeless unless God intervened. But she also saw how proud she had been. It had never dawned on her that God might be resisting her for being so self-sufficient. “Maybe we should do something about this. Would you pray with me?”

“You mean right now?” Jean asked.

Michele nodded.

“Okay.” Jean leaned forward. They held hands and prayed, acknowledging how big this thing was. Too big for Michele to carry. The more she prayed, the lighter Michele felt. When they were done, she looked up at Jean and felt something else inside.

Hope.