The Healing Place (9 page)

Again and again, she screamed until sobs racked her body and she had to pull over so she wouldn’t cause an accident.

Ogre!

Yes, that’s what she felt like inside. A horrid, ugly monster.

If Mark Williams could face a nasty divorce and the possibility of losing his daughter, why couldn’t she face tomorrow with a bit of dignity, warmth and compassion?

Oh, God, please help me! If You’re really there as Mark says You are, help me find my way. I’m so lonely. I’m so lost.

It was the first time she had prayed since the night Brian died. Sitting alone in her car, on the busy freeway as cars zipped past, she felt suddenly—

At peace.

A calm sensation enveloped her like a warm blanket. Maybe she imagined it. It couldn’t be real.

Her heart lightened and tears of joy poured down her cheeks. Somehow, she didn’t feel quite so lost or abandoned anymore. Deep inside, she knew Mark was right. She’d hidden herself from the Lord out of anger and hurt, but it didn’t change the truth.

God lived. He was there, loving and caring for her. Waiting for her to return to Him.

“What have I become?” she cried with remorse, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel.

Feeling wretched didn’t give her the right to make others miserable, too. When she remembered all the sharp words and curt reprimands she had thrown at her office staff over the past years, she wanted to hide in shame. Before Brian’s death, she had always been so kind and patient with others. Like that night at Mark’s house when she had taught Angie to make gravy. But now, she was an ogre.

Something must change.

Whatever happened next, she wanted to be kinder, more generous. That didn’t mean she would start dating, but maybe it was time to give Tom and Christy a day off. They’d earned it, even though they were smart-mouthed kids. And maybe she’d ask Darcy to start planning a summer barbecue for the office staff and their families. Maybe this year, they’d have a Christmas party. They’d never had one before. And why not?

Because laughter might crack The Ogre’s face.

They said laughter healed wounded hearts. Emma had laughed more the past few weeks since Mark and Angie had come into her life than she had in the past two years since Brian’s death.

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, feeling like a reformed Scrooge. A slightly hysterical giggle bubbled up inside her. What a fool she had been, hoarding the kindness in her heart like a shroud of death.

No, not Scrooge. Just an embittered woman who had lost her way. She didn’t like the person she had become.

Time for a change. Setting limits was okay. She could be nice without becoming close to others.

Or could she?

She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, then pulled her car back onto the freeway and drove home.

Somehow, Emma’s resolve made her stronger. With Sonja and Mark’s examples, she could stand to live again. To feel. To hope.

How ironic that the boy who had broken her heart in high school was mending it back together piece by piece.

She could repay him by trying to heal his precious daughter.

Emma clutched the steering wheel tight and mouthed another prayer.

Please, God, don’t let me fail this time.

“H
ere’s those reports you asked for, Doctor.”

Emma looked up and found Tom standing over her, holding a stack of manila folders jam-packed with papers.

Emma took the reports and set them on her desk. “Thank you.”

He turned to go.

“Um, Tom? I understand you’ve been hoping to take a week off this summer to go camping with your family.”

He paused beside the door, his ears reddening. “Yeah, but, I don’t really need to if—”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, Tom. You’ve worked hard and deserve a break. Why don’t you take two weeks? Just submit your request in writing to Sonja.”

Emma looked down at the manila folders and opened one of the reports, pretending to read it.

“Uh, thanks, Dr. Shields. Wow! I really appreciate it.”

Surprise and appreciation filled Tom’s voice. He left her office, pulling the door closed. Emma heard his unmistakable whoop of delight as he made a hasty retreat.

Joy speared Emma’s heart. She had almost forgotten the contentment it brought when she made other people happy. Perhaps there were additional changes she could make.

She reached for a notebook and pen, determined to start right away.

Mark led Angie into the main hallway of Emma’s office. It was seven-thirty in the morning and Angie was the first patient of the day.

Looking up, Mark saw Tom standing just inside the break room holding a coffee mug in one hand, a newspaper in the other. The door was slightly ajar. Though Mark couldn’t see her, he could hear Darcy’s voice as she spoke to Tom.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s sure different.”

The air smelled of the customary scent of antiseptic mingled with freshly brewed coffee. Though Emma didn’t drink coffee, she kept it on hand for her patients and employees.

“Yeah, she even gave me two weeks off to go camping with my family.”

“Well, she’s got me planning a barbecue for the office staff, their families and some of our patients at Fernandez Park in two weeks. And Sonja mentioned year-end bonuses for all the employees.”

Tom’s brows quirked at this news. “Bonuses? Wow!”

Quietly listening to this conversation, Mark shifted his weight and set Angie’s MRIs on the counter as he signed in on the clipboard kept by the front desk. Angie sidled closer to his leg, slipping her hand into his. She’d pulled her flowered hat low around her ears, self-conscious of her bald head.

Tom slapped the newspaper against his thigh. “I’ve worked here almost two years and we’ve never had an office party. Have you ever seen Dr. Shields like this?”

They were talking about Emma again. For some reason, it made Mark angry and defensive. He didn’t like them talking behind Emma’s back, and yet this was good news he heard.

“Nope.” Darcy looked pointedly toward Emma’s office door, which was closed. “What do you think made the difference?”

Tom laughed and wiped his hands down the front of his blue smock. “Maybe she’s got a new boyfriend. I hope he sticks around for a long time.”

A boyfriend? He didn’t think so. Emma would have mentioned it to him.

Wouldn’t she?

Somehow their souls connected in a way he couldn’t explain. He missed her and wished she could spend more time with him and Angie.

If he got close to her, would she hurt him? He couldn’t stand another failed relationship. Losing her mother had been hard on Angie and he wouldn’t bring another woman into her life to abandon her again at the first sign of trouble.

“I hope she does have a boyfriend. It’ll take her mind off us,” Darcy said.

Tom grinned. “Well, I guess now we’ll have to call her something besides The Ogre.”

Mark opened his mouth, prepared to let them know what he thought of their name-calling. Emma deserved better than this and he—

“How about calling her the Boss? Remember, she signs your checks.” Sonja caught them off guard when she came from the supply room carrying boxes of syringes and cotton balls. She stood in the doorway of the break room and flashed them a stern look, her voice filled with warning.

“Sorry, Sonja,” Darcy said. “We didn’t mean any harm. We really appreciate the changes Dr. Shields has made. She’s just so different lately.”

“I’m glad you’ve noticed, now get back to work,” Sonja said.

Darcy walked out of the break room and returned to her desk where she started tapping away on her keyboard. A satisfied smile curved Tom’s lips as he also exited the break room and whistled his way down the hall.

Seeing Angie, Sonja bent at the waist so she could greet the child at eye level. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing?”

Angie nodded but kept her cheek pressed against Mark’s thigh, no sparkle in her hollow eyes. “Fine.”

“Good. Have you got your EMLA patch on?”

Angie nodded and pressed her hand to her chest. “Yep, Daddy put it on for me.”

“Okay, let’s wait for Mrs. Valdez to get here and then I’ll take you down the hall.”

Mr. and Mrs. Valdez entered the reception room a few minutes later and Angie’s eyes brightened as she hurried over to take Mrs. Valdez’s hand. As usual, no words were needed between these two kindred spirits.

Mrs. Valdez had lost substantial weight, her intense chemo protocol taking its toll on her body. Angie didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Sonja led them all into the treatment room.

As was his routine, Mark translated for Sonja and she got Mrs. Valdez set up with an IV drip.

Angie stayed close by, holding Mrs. Valdez’s free hand, patting the woman’s shoulder now and then.

“Okay, Angie, let me go get your injection, and I’ll be right back,” Sonja said as she left the room.

When Emma poked her head around the door, Mark looked up. Dressed in a light pink skirt and white blouse with purple and yellow pansies embroidered along the collar, she wore her hair long and curling against the top of her shoulders. What a change. Where was the stern hairstyle and clothing? Without the severe clip at the back of her neck, she looked stunning. He was half tempted to invite her to the movies Friday night.

He noticed tenderness filled Emma’s eyes as she stared at Angie and Mrs. Valdez. “So, how are my two favorite patients?”

Her gaze swerved over to Mark and suddenly a veil dropped over her eyes. The cold, professional doctor had returned. And yet, when they’d gone shopping together and she’d come to his house for dinner, he’d felt a strong connection with her. Had he only imagined it?

“Okay, Angie, we’re ready for you,” she called.

“Ah, do I have’ta?” Angie groaned.

“Yes, I’m sorry, champ,” Mark said.

Careful not to bump the IV in Mrs. Valdez’s arm, Angie slid off the woman’s lap and walked over to Emma. Mark picked up the packet of MRIs and followed as the doctor led them down the hall.

Inside the examination room, Angie lay back against the pillow on the couch and stared at the wall. Sonja came in and administered the injection. When Sonja asked Angie to pick a toy out of her special stash, Angie refused.

“No, thank you.” Her voice sounded small.

Sonja’s brows lifted in surprise. “You don’t want anything today? But I’ve got some new coloring books.”

Angie shook her head and looked away.

“Why so gloomy?” Emma asked.

Mark handed the large packet of MRI scans to Emma. She held them dumbly, wondering what he wanted her to do with them.

“Angie’s been on the chemo for two months and there’s no shrinkage of the tumor.” His gaze didn’t meet Emma’s. “The neurosurgeon was disappointed.”

So was Mark, if Emma read the concern in his eyes correctly. She hoped he didn’t blame her for the lack of shrinkage. She had explicitly followed the protocol given to her by the doctors at U.C.S.F., yet she felt responsible. Her ex-husband’s accusations jangled inside her mind and she dreaded hearing the same from Mark.

Emma pulled out the scans, holding them up to the overhead lighting. She never looked at MRI scans for her other patients. That was the neurosurgeon’s job. This time, she had to see for herself.

“Scan after scan shows no change.” Mark stood close beside her, pointing at the hazy-white tumor, which was big as a plump grape. The tumor was not very large when compared to fruit, but when it was inside a child’s head, it was enormous and deadly.

“Has the neurosurgeon said there’s been more growth?” Emma asked.

His nearness caused her heart to hammer against her chest.

Mark shook his head as he stared at Angie’s hands folded in her lap. The child stared at the wall. “No, thank goodness. No growth, no shrinkage. We’re at a standstill.”

He stepped back and Emma breathed with relief, hardly able to think with him standing so close.

“Well, that’s a good sign. We’ve stopped the growth. Now, we just need time to back it up and shrink the tumor.”

She spoke in a confident tone, but her hands trembled and she found it difficult to respond in a professional manner. She refused to believe Angie would die. God wouldn’t fail her again.

Or would He?

“Don’t be discouraged, you two,” she admonished lightly. “We’ve only just begun treatment and it’s quite common this early in the process for there to be no shrinkage. It takes time for the drugs to get through the blood-brain barrier.”

“Blood-brain barrier?” Mark asked.

“Yes, it’s the body’s natural defense to keep impurities out of the brain. I think this is a positive sign. We’ve stopped the tumor from growing and now it will start to shrink.”

A flicker of hope flashed in Mark’s eyes and he blew out a deep huff of air. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that.”

She already knew. When Brian had been ill, she’d clung to every thread of hope the doctors offered. But how could she encourage this man and his daughter when she herself feared Angie might die? Those were the odds.

Trust in Me, and I will show you the way.

The words filled her heart, giving her more confidence. Her fledgling faith in God burgeoned like a tiny seed planted in fertile soil. The opposite of faith was worry and she decided to trust in the Lord.

Just once more.

“How often is your neurosurgeon requesting MRI’s?” she asked.

“Twice a month,” Mark replied. “It if starts to shrink, he said we’d go to once a month. Do you really think we just need more time for the tumor to shrink?”

“Absolutely!” Emma’s voice was filled with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Never in her career had she
ever
responded in such a manner. She didn’t want to get sued if the chemo didn’t work. It was almost as if an outside force directed her to speak the words.

I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.

She needed to prepare Mark for what could happen when the protocol ended, but she didn’t want to speak so bluntly in front of the child.

“Angie, why don’t you go with Sonja while I talk to your dad?”

“Ooo-kay.” Pressing her lips together, Angie slid off the couch and shuffled out the door.

Emma stared at her clipboard, wondering how to begin.

“Mark, I think you need to know the most we can expect is a twenty percent shrinkage. And you can expect the tumor to begin growing again within two years after the protocol is completed. Of course, there are exceptions. I’m just telling you the odds.”

Mark’s face whitened, his words filled with trepidation. “And if it starts to grow again?”

“We’ll determine how we should proceed when we come to that point. Every child is different. We just don’t know for certain how Angie’s body will react to the treatments. I’m just telling you what happens with the majority of children with this type of tumor.”

“Will Angie need to have MRI’s the rest of her life?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sorry. The good thing is, if there’s no growth after we shrink the tumor, your neurosurgeon will probably request fewer MRIs. No matter what, Angie will always need an annual MRI, just to keep an eye on what’s happening inside her pretty head.” Emma tried to smile, hoping to alleviate the distress her words caused.

Her heart went out to Mark. Angie had an illness that would need to be carefully monitored the rest of her life. The sleeping giant in her head could awaken at any time. After the chemotherapy, there could be hormone and kidney damage.

Emma tried to show a reassuring smile. “Really, you mustn’t be discouraged. Give the protocol time to work. It’s going to be okay.”

She’d done it again, saying things she shouldn’t. Giving him false hope when she didn’t know for certain what might happen.

Mark faced Emma and she couldn’t mistake the tone of panic in his voice. “Emma, what if the tumor doesn’t respond to the chemo? What if it starts to grow again?”

She dreaded this question. If Angie died, he’d blame her, just like David did after Brian died.

Taking a deep breath, Emma chose her words carefully. “Miracles have been known to happen, and you and Angie are due for a big one.”

“Yes, but I’m also a realist. God could take her from me, and I don’t know if I can handle that. I can’t lose her—” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “I feel so helpless, Emma.”

She inhaled a shaky breath and let it go. “Remember what you told me that day we went shopping at the warehouse?”

“I remember.” His voice sounded hoarse with emotion.

“Well, if you’re right and God is real, how can you doubt Him? He’s the only one that can save her, Mark. Not me. Not the drugs. Just Him.”

An invisible energy folded around her, filling her with the courage to believe what she said. She didn’t know why God had taken her precious son from her, or why he allowed tragedies to happen to innocent people, but she realized He wanted her to learn to trust in Him. From His perspective, Brian wasn’t dead. The little boy had returned home.

Mark’s brow crinkled with thought. “How did you cope with your divorce?”

The words fell against her heart like a ten ton sledge.

“I didn’t. David blamed me for—” Her voice broke and she tried again. “David blamed me for so many things, and I blamed myself, too. Looking back at my marriage, I wonder now if David ever loved me at all, or just wanted to marry me because I could get him in doors he couldn’t open on his own. You might say I was his trophy wife.”