The Road to Mercy (23 page)

Medical books lay scattered on the desk and filled the bookshelves that lined the interior walls. Beth found the lack of personal artifacts in the room curious. There wasn’t so much as a photo of an Irish setter to hint of the doctor’s personal life.

A New York bike-a-thon poster, framed and hung on the window wall, was perhaps the most telling clue that he existed outside of his work. Framed diagrams of the human brain and
medical diplomas from Vanderbilt and Columbia Universities were scattered among other certifications and awards. He appeared to be a well-educated and respected physician.

Beth trusted Dr. Abrams with her life. He had been the first doctor to reassure her after her initial trip to the emergency room in October. She had subsequently seen glimpses of a charming personality underneath the hardened shell of professional detachment.

“Good morning, Bethany,” Dr. Abrams said, as he strolled into his office carrying a large manila envelope. “Let’s hope for significant improvement.”

He walked straight to the viewer on the wall behind his desk and placed the film into it.

Beth waited, hoping for good news.

After a minute or two, he finally turned to her. “These results show promise. Your dissection shows a slight reduction.”

“That’s wonderful,” she exhaled audibly.

He switched off the light and took a seat at his desk. “How are you feeling?”

“My pain comes and goes.”

“Any mood swings?”

Beth felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m all over the place, I’m afraid. I often wonder how my husband can stand me.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re not entirely responsible. Your medications are likely contributing to that.”

“I tried to wean myself off the morphine a few weeks ago . . . and I couldn’t,” Beth admitted, hoping the doctor wouldn’t scold her.

Dr. Abrams’s blue eyes pierced her. “It’s too soon. Please, don’t do that again without consulting me.”

“I’m just—”

“You need those medications right now,” the doctor frowned. “We’ll get you off them soon enough.”

“I wish Josh could hear you say that. I’m afraid he thinks I’ll never get off this stuff. He’s worried that his wife will be a drug addict for the rest of her life.”

Beth stared at a speck of lint on her black pants. Brushing it off, she continued. “I hope he’s not right.”

“It’s not easy, but I have confidence you’ll make it.” The doctor leaned closer to her. “You seem to be a determined young woman with a strong faith.” His expression softened. “I admire your tenacity in keeping the baby. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so quick to recommend against that in the beginning. You appear to be doing well.”

Beth was certain she was blushing now. Having the confidence of Dr. Abrams uplifted her more than anything that had happened to her in a while. “Thank you. That means a lot, Dr. Abrams. The strength didn’t come from me. It comes from my Christian beliefs.”

“Whatever it takes.” The doctor placed her film back into its envelope.

“Are you a Christian?” Beth asked.

Her physician raised an eyebrow. “An agnostic Jew.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have asked that. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

This time a slight blush colored the doctor’s smooth, olive complexion.

“No worries. Religion isn’t something I wear on my sleeve. I’ll walk you to the foyer.”

He scribbled a few notes on a sheet of paper, stood, and handed it to Beth. “Please give this to Debbie at the front desk. Let’s do another scan in six weeks. Maybe we’ll see enough improvement to completely discount surgery.” He looked at her. “When are you due?”

“Ten more weeks.”

“I’ll stay in touch with Dr. Myers.” He walked with her toward the door. “We don’t want to risk you going into labor until your dissection is completely healed.”

“I’ll keep praying, Dr. Abrams.”

When he opened the foyer door, Alex was sitting within view, and Beth noticed a change in his posture. “I’ll see you in six weeks,” he told Beth. Then he walked across the room to stand in front of Alex. “Nice to see you.”

“You as well,” she said.

They continued their conversation while Beth paid her account. Neither seemed to notice her as she approached. “I need to step out to the ladies’ room,” Beth mouthed to Alex, who responded with a slight nod.

Beth left through the front door and slipped down the hall. When she returned, Alex was sitting alone.

“Soooooooo?”

Alex walked over to her, and they hurried out to the hallway, stifling their excitement like two giggling schoolgirls.

“He asked for my phone number.”

Isaac. Isaac Ruben. Is that you?”

The familiarity of the voice, rather than the significance of the words, caught Ben’s attention as he walked along the shade tree campus of Vanderbilt University. Fully assimilated, those two words brought back memories he had avoided for a long time.

Ben turned to the source of the voice. No one in Nashville knew him by that name. Who could it be?

“Isaac. It’s Wade Martin.” The stranger extended his hand and when Ben offered his own the sandy-haired man shook it vigorously.

“I don’t—”

“Wade. From Columbia. Remember our statistics classes?”

Of course, how could he forget the most difficult course of his college career? Or the student who had helped him through it. “Wade! What are you doing in Nashville?”

“Been here about a year. Decided to try my hand in the music business.” Martin laughed. “And, I emphasize the latter.
Business
. I’m not a singer. I’m an accountant.”

Ben smiled at the thought of his old friend singing for a living. Martin’s voice screeched and hawed through spoken words like a young child trying to learn the violin. “It’s good to see you.”

“What are you doing here, Isaac?”

“I’m finishing up my internship at Vanderbilt. Only three months to go. Can’t you tell by the bags under my eyes?” He laughed.

Martin slapped him on the arm. “You look the same to me. I’m sure you’re doing a great job. You were always ahead of the class in the medical sciences. I assume you specialized in neurology?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, still enjoying it.”

“Hey, call me sometime. I’d love to have dinner when things quiet down for you. Are you in the book?”

“Yes. Yes. Let’s get together. I’m living in an apartment in Belle Meade, and I’m listed under Abrams. Ben Abrams. I took my family name when I moved here.”

“Will do. Good to see you.”

Beth watched Alex maneuver her small car into a tight space beneath the cover of the Green Hills Mall parking garage. Water streamed down the windshield. Heavy rain had pelted them since they left home almost an hour ago, for what should have been a thirty-minute journey.

“I’m glad you’re driving.” Beth relaxed into her seat. “That was a trip.”

“No problem. I deliver in rain, sleet, or snow.” Alex grinned and switched off the ignition. “Besides, it’s not every day I can help a friend pick out a Noah award gown.”

“Especially a friend who is seven months pregnant.” Beth rubbed her rounded tummy and smiled. “Isn’t it fun?”

“You and Josh deserve this break. You’ve had a rough few months.”

“I’m excited for him.” Beth said. “His face brightens when he talks about the awards.” She searched her bag for lip gloss. “It’s about the only thing that makes him smile right now.”

“You and the baby do too.”

“Sure, when he’s not letting himself be wound up in worry.”

“Out of concern for your health?”

“Yes.” Beth rolled the peach-flavored gel across her lips. “He’s having problems on the road right now too. But he won’t talk to me about it.” She threw the tube of gloss back into her purse.

Alex studied her. “I’m no relationship expert. Hey, look at me, I’m a single woman.” She blushed. “But it’s better to get things out in the open.”

“He’s trying to deal with them on his own. You know, save me the stress.” Beth focused on the massive concrete ballasts that supported the walls of the multilevel parking garage.

“Sharing cuts our worries in half,” Alex said. “That includes you too. You need to be talking to someone, getting your fears out in the open. They have a way of growing when you keep them inside.”

Beth turned to her friend. “You always make me feel better. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I hope so.” Alex reached for the car door.

Beth touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I need to ask for your forgiveness.”

“For what?”

“For my moods. My temper tantrums. I’ve been grumpy and unrealistic . . . and I’m sorry—”

“You’re too hard on yourself, girlfriend,” Alex said. “You’ve been through a lot. I’m not sure I could have handled everything as well as you have.”

“Thanks, but you’re being generous.”

“Come on, let’s go shopping.” Alex said, before turning to exit the vehicle.

Beth hoisted her awkward body out of the passenger seat and straightened her rumpled blouse while she caught her breath. Carrying around twenty extra pounds wasn’t easy.

“Where do we go first?” Alex asked.

“Let’s start on the far side of the mall and work our way back.” A mischievous smile spread across Beth’s face.

“Like you can stay on your feet that long.”

“I can do anything for shopping,” Beth laughed.

“Okay. But, remember, you promised me lunch if I’m a good helper today.” Alex placed a hand on her slender waist and sighed. “As if I need it.”

“You’re such a rail. I was never that thin, even before I was pregnant.”

Her friend grinned. “I’ve always been able to eat anything I want, as long as I don’t want too much.” She grabbed Beth’s arm. “Let’s go shopping, Mama.”

Two hours later, Beth had narrowed her search to two dresses. Her favorite was an emerald-green, one-shoulder, satin floor-length gown. But she also liked a salmon-colored, mid-calf-length cocktail dress, which would be more practical.

“What do you think?” she asked Alex while modeling the shorter dress.

“They both look great on you. You should buy the one that makes you feel comfortable.”

“I love the green one, but I could probably get more use from the cocktail dress.”

“How many times in your life will you wear a maternity cocktail gown?”

“A good point.” Beth gathered the floor length gown into her arms. “I’ll take this one.”

After a stop in the Dillard’s shoe department for matching flats, they returned to the car with Alex carrying Beth’s bags. “So, what do you know about that doctor of yours?”

“Dr. Myers?”

“No, silly. Dr. Abrams.” Alex opened the heavy mall door and held it for Beth.

“I don’t know much at all. Rather mysterious. And he’s kind of a serious person.”

“Seriously good looking.”

Beth grinned. “And seriously flirting with you the other day in his office.”

“Do you think he’ll call me?”

“Definitely.” Beth had never seen her friend so insecure, almost childlike.

“Anytime you need me to take you to his office again, don’t hesitate to ask.” Alex’s face flushed tinges of red as she clicked the door locks on the Beetle.

They stowed their shopping treasures in the trunk and settled into the car.

“Speaking of Dr. Abrams, I need your help with something.”

“Sure.” Alex glanced at Beth before putting the car into gear.

“I’ve been praying for God to help me get off these drugs before the baby is born.” Beth took a deep breath. “I have a feeling he is telling me to try it.”

“You’ve tried that once,” Alex cautioned. “You weren’t ready.”

Beth stared into the distance. “Not right now. I want to wait until Josh leaves for the road, after the awards show next week. That will give my artery more time to heal. The results from my scan last time were encouraging. The tear is closing.”

“You’re not going to do anything without talking to Dr. Abrams, are you?”

“Not exactly. He told me I might be able to wean myself off the drugs soon.” Beth fudged on the timeframe.

“I don’t know.”

“Please, help me. I feel so guilty taking the medicine while I’m carrying this baby.”

Alex shook her head. “I just don’t feel comfortable—”

“Please.” Beth pleaded. “I need you to stay with me. Night and day, hour by hour, for at least two weeks until I can get through the worst of it. Dr. Abrams told me it would be hard. Probably the hardest thing I have ever done. But I know I can do it. God wants me to have a healthy baby.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Or at least I hope he does.”

Alex stopped at a red light and turned to her. “You know I’ll help you. I have all the confidence in the world in your ability to get through it, and in God’s plan to give you a healthy child. But let’s pray about it.”

“Thanks,” Beth said. “I appreciate your help, and your prayers, more than you will ever know. God has brought me this far, and I’m confident he will get me through.”

Alex pulled into the parking lot of a quaint little restaurant in the Vanderbilt area. “Is this okay?”

“Works for me. I’m starving.” Beth opened the car door, and then turned back to her caregiver. “Remember, it’s our little secret.”

Alex nodded.

Once inside, they were immersed in conversation and enjoying large glasses of iced tea when Alex’s cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID before answering. “
Restricted
. Probably a telemarketer.” She punched the call button on the phone and answered.

Beth watched a smile spread across her friend’s face.

“Hi, doctor, I mean Ben. Nice to hear from you. . . .”

Alex opened her mouth in a mock scream, while listening intently to the voice on the other end of the phone.

“I’d love to. What time? Yes, great place. I’ll meet you there at one o’clock.”

She clicked off the phone.

“That was your doctor asking me to lunch next Saturday!”

You look beautiful tonight,” Josh glanced at his wife, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his Jeep as he drove toward downtown Nashville.