“Tedi and I will meet you tomorrow,” she assured him as Clarence came barreling in.
“She needs to be prepared—” Theo began, then fell silent.
“Man, it’s colder than springwater out there!” Clarence announced. “I sure hope Delphi found a place to stay warm. Hey, Theodore, how you doing? I guess you heard what happened. I can’t find her anywhere. I thought I’d grab a bite to eat, and if she still hasn’t turned up, I’ll borrow Ivy’s car and look some more after dinner.”
A giant splotch that looked and smelled like Betadine stained the right leg of Lukas’s jeans when he pulled them from his locker Tuesday night at the end of his shift. He groaned and held them up to the light, then looked around the room suspiciously, as if the perpetrator might still be hanging around, watching for his reaction. “You know,” he called to the absent prankster, “you should have to graduate from kindergarten before you can work in a hospital. Obviously, that isn’t the case here.” He threw the jeans onto the bed and reached into the locker for his jacket. He would have to wear his scrubs home again.
He knew he shouldn’t allow himself to get angry. He was leaving at the end of the week, never to return. He should be joyful. He should celebrate at this extra reminder of the annoyances he would no longer be forced to endure. But he didn’t feel like a party.
He shut the locker and marched from the room into the E.R. where shift change was still taking place. Day personnel were giving report to night personnel. The lab-radiology tech hovered in the doorway that connected the E.R. to the lab, gossiping with Carmen, the day secretary. The ambulance crew was still here from the last run they had made from the nursing home two blocks away. Quinn and his new partner were completing reports at the counter.
“Excuse me,” Lukas said.
No one acknowledged him. The low office buzz continued.
He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “I said, excuse me!”
Okay, that worked. A sudden hush fell over the room. The staff looked at him in surprise. Now was an unfortunate time to start having second thoughts about displaying a temper tantrum. Still, he needed to say this.
“Someone likes to play practical jokes in the doctor’s call room,” he said. He looked from Sandra, to Quinn, to Carmen. Carmen looked away. He remembered the surgical jelly on his steering wheel. “I overlooked the trash upended in the bed, and the stapled scrubs, and the ruined lunch.” He looked toward the temperamental lab-radiology tech, and then Jane, the night nurse. “I didn’t say anything, until now, about the vandalism of my Jeep, or my good slacks with the legs cut off.”
Carmen gasped, and her mouth came open. She shot a look of accusation toward the doorway, but Lukas couldn’t tell whom she was looking at.
“I want to warn whoever is pulling these pranks that if anything else happens while I’m working here,” Lukas said, “I will report the incidents to the police. You shouldn’t find it too hard to deprive yourself. I’ll only be here three more days. Then you’ll have the joy of picking on my replacement. I believe in turning the other cheek, but I’m running out of cheeks.”
Suddenly embarrassed by his outburst, and his poor choice of phrasing, he left without another word.
After delivering Theodore to his apartment, and Clarence to his waiting meal, Mercy drove toward home along an avenue occasionally pooled by the amber glow of streetlights. She couldn’t push thoughts of Theodore from her mind, and compassion for him overwhelmed her. More overwhelming, however, were her fears for her daughter. How would Tedi react to the news that her father had cancer? After all the hardship that had been heaped on her this past year, how would she handle it if Theodore died?
The next few days would tell for sure how advanced the cancer was. The biopsy tomorrow would be conclusive, and further testing would show them if the carcinoma had spread. Unfortunately, if the cancer had metastasized, his prognosis was not good. Robert Simeon wouldn’t tell him until the workup was complete, but his life expectancy would be from three to six months.
She turned onto her street and drove more slowly. She was in no hurry. Tedi was spending the night with Abby, and the house would feel empty without her. In spite of the emptiness, however, Mercy could use that time alone. She felt pressed in from all around. Before Tedi came to live with her, the loneliness had been so intense at times that she purposely stayed at the hospital with patients in the evenings. She had worked shifts in the E.R. both as a means to supplement her income to support two households, and as a diversion. Now the loneliness was a memory. Though she never needed a break from her daughter’s lively personality, she sometimes wished the two of them could leave town for a few days and life could slow down.
The dark silence of the house felt oppressive as Mercy stepped into the kitchen from the garage and pressed the button to lower the overhead door. The only light came from the front porch, which she always left on when she would be coming home at night.
She turned on the light over the kitchen sink, then walked into the study, where she and Tedi had a habit of curling up together at night to read the Bible. She switched on the lamp beside the sofa and sat in her familiar spot. For a moment she allowed the silence to cover her. Slowly the sounds of the house drifted in…the gentle hum of the refrigerator, the hushed movement of air from the central heating vents, the ticking of the wall clock.
Her gaze fell on the black leather-bound Bible, and she reached for it, wishing she were more familiar with its contents—but glad, especially now, that she was intimately involved with its Author. That was Whom she needed.
She bowed her head as the events of the day overwhelmed her and tears stung her eyes. “Oh, God, help us,” she breathed. “Help Theodore. Why is this happening to him, now that he’s getting his life together, now that he’s trusted You?”
She was still humiliated by her recent discovery that she had not completely forgiven Theodore over the past few months. What kind of an example had she been to Tedi? Sure she had compassion for him now that he was sick, but if he were proclaimed healthy tomorrow, if all this had been some big mistake, how would she feel?
“Lord, forgive me in Jesus’ name. Show me again how to love the unlovable, as You love me. Please don’t leave me stuck in this confusion forever.”
She recalled what Lukas said Friday, about getting confused when he tried to second-guess God’s next move.
“Please, dear Lord, give Theodore Your strength and Your blessing. Touch him—touch us all—with Your healing. Give Tedi peace and faith in You, and take her fear and bad memories away. She’s just a little girl, God. Please don’t make her suffer any more than she has already.” The thought of Tedi’s suffering made the tears flow more freely. “Please protect her tomorrow when we tell her about the cancer.”
She waited, and listened, and didn’t fight the tears but allowed them to wash through her in a healing stream as she cried for Tedi, and for Theodore. Delphi came to her mind, and fresh tears flowed for her. Was she hiding somewhere in the cold darkness, afraid to seek shelter because Abner might find her? And Shannon…and Kendra…so many hurting souls in the world. So many lost, hurting people. How could she take care of them when she couldn’t even see to her own daughter’s spiritual needs?
One by one, Mercy prayed for them and then did what was so hard for her to do—once again, she turned them over to the care of Someone more powerful and more loving, more able to forgive, than she. With the prayers came a soothing balm of comfort. By the time she was finished her back ached and her head pounded from the flow of tears, but something within her had changed. She was where she needed to be, talking to God. And she was doing what He wanted her to do—wait. And while she did so, she would try to make it easier for the others who waited with her. She couldn’t do this alone, but she didn’t have to. The faith that had felt so shaky a week ago now flowed through her with power. God wasn’t going to let her go.
Someone was pounding on a semitruck with a tire tool, and the noise was starting to bu
g Clarence. If they didn’t stop soon, they’d damage something. He tried to shout at them to stop, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. When he tried to walk across the big garage, his legs wouldn’t move.
The pounding grew louder, more insistent, until it awakened him with a start. He jerked and felt the bed shudder beneath him. And the pounding continued…more like tapping. On a window. He frowned into the darkness. Was it hailing outside? Were they having a sleet storm?
“Clarence!” came a muffled hiss from the back window of the bedroom.
“Huh?” He squinted outside and saw a shadow looming beside the bushes. A human shadow. The tapping came again. “Okay, yeah.” He rubbed his face to wake up a little better, then threw the blankets back and struggled out of bed. He always wore shorts and a T-shirt to bed, so he wasn’t indecent.
He stumbled through the dark room and peered more intently at the shadow. And then he gasped and rushed to the window. “Delphi?” He unlocked the pane and rolled it open. It was her! “Go around to the back door and—”
But she had already levered herself through the window, bringing with her a rush of icy air. Clarence wanted to hug her.
“You’re okay! You’re safe! Where’ve you been? I looked all over for you.”
“Shh!” She turned around and fumbled with the window and locked it. “Don’t tell anybody I’m here, okay?” she whispered. “It’s cold out there! Can I stay here in the apartment with you until morning? I’ve got to get out of town.”
“But everybody’s worried about you.”
“Shh!” Delphi placed her finger to her lips. “Don’t turn any lights on. What if he’s followed me? What if he knows I’ve been here? He knew where I was today, and I don’t want to take any chances. Please, can’t I just stay on your couch tonight?”
“Sure you can, Delphi. Let me just get a blanket from the closet, and we’ll get you all set up. Are you hungry? There’s some food left in the fridge from dinner. We kept a plate for you, just in case.”
For a moment, Delphi didn’t respond but seemed to be peering at him through the darkness. Then she threw her arms as far around him as she could get and held on with all her might.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mercy awoke Wednesday morning at six o’clock, thirty minutes before her alarm was set to go off. For a moment she thought about trying to go back to sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to doze off again. In spite of continued concern about Theodore, she had slept well for once. She needed to pray again. She also needed to talk to Lukas. She needed to hear the comfort and love in his voice and feel that connection to him, however many miles separated them.
She reached over and took the cordless phone from its base, punched Lukas’s auto-dial number, then settled back into her pillow. Four rings later she heard a groggy “Hello” and felt a brief moment of doubt.
“Lukas? It’s Mercy. Sorry to call so early. I suppose this could have waited.”
“No, that’s okay.” The sleepiness dissolved from his voice. “Mercy.” Lukas Bower was the only person in the world who could make her spoken name sound like a symphony. “Did you get the card?”
“You mean the one I’m looking at right now? The one I put on my nightstand so it would be the first thing I see in the morning?”
There was a masculine chuckle over the line. “I hope that’s it.”
“Yes.” She glanced at his illegible signature and remembered the rush of joy she had felt when she received the card; when she had to read it through three times to decipher all the words it had only served to sweeten the pleasure. “Actually it was the message you wrote that made me decide to call you.”
“It was?”
“Well…not the only reason, but I need your advice again.”
There was a brief pause that echoed the seriousness of her tone. “Is it the same kind of advice you needed Friday?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s still about Theodore, but this time it’s worse. He has cancer.” Without skipping details, she told him everything Theodore had told her last night.
When she finished, Lukas breathed the words “Oh, no. Has he had a biopsy?”
“He’s scheduled to have one this afternoon in Springfield. We’re meeting for lunch today at Little Mary’s Barbecue so we can tell Tedi.”
“How’s Theodore handling it?”
“He’s in shock. I didn’t get to talk with him last night for very long.”
“Mercy…he doesn’t have any other family in the area, does he?”
“No.”
“Then he’s alone.”
What an awful word. Alone. “I…think so.” She felt a fresh surge of compassion. How would it feel to be alone, with no loving family around, no one to care if you lived or died? All of Theo’s old friends were drinking buddies or women who might have given him hepatitis B in the first place. He had avoided them for months. His parents were both dead, and his younger half brother lived in Florida and didn’t want anything to do with him.
“I was going to call you later this morning.” Lukas paused, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Friday is my last day at Herald. I plan to pack the Jeep and check out of this town as soon as my shift is over. How would Theo react if I called him?”
Mercy felt a surprising surge of relief, and for the first time she was able to acknowledge an unspoken sense of responsibility she had felt for Theo since she’d talked to him last night. “I think it would help, Lukas. He needs to know…someone cares.” She considered the impact of his words. “You’re really coming home Friday? To Knolls?” To her?
“Yes.” Another thoughtful silence. “Theo probably shouldn’t stay alone after the biopsy if he’s released from the hospital.”
That hadn’t occurred to Mercy, but Lukas’s words forced her to consider it now. Where would Theodore stay? He would probably be kept in the hospital for an immediate metastatic workup, but what would happen to him afterward? And why did she feel as if she were suddenly Theo’s caretaker?
“Lukas, can I trust you not to condemn me if I say something horrible right now?”
“I could never condemn you. What is it, Mercy?”
“It keeps occurring to me that…that Theodore—”
“Brought it on himself,” Lukas finished for her. “And now we’re feeling responsible to deal with the consequences, and it isn’t fair.”
She felt a rush of warmth, and she wasn’t sure if it came more from embarrassment at her judgmental attitude, or pleasure that he cared enough to know her heart so intimately. “How did you learn to read my mind so well?”
“You’re having a natural reaction. I’ve always had the same tendency, and I have to watch it. I have to remember Who’s in charge, and Who gives out the grace.”
“I don’t want to feel this way.”
“There’s a parable I read a few days ago in Matthew, chapter twenty. Maybe it’ll help.”
“Tell me about it.” Mercy glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to say goodbye. “Better make it quick. Neither of us can afford to be late for work today.”
“Okay. Briefly, it’s about a man who hired workers from the town marketplace to do some field labor for him. He hired some the first thing in the morning, then a few more a couple of hours later. Then he needed more help, and so he hired more workers throughout the day. When it came time to pay them, he gave them each the same amount—the equivalent of a day’s wages.”
“Even the last ones he hired?”
“Yes.”
“But that’s not—”
“Fair? That’s what the men said who’d worked all day. But the employer reminded them that each of them had agreed to work for a day’s wages, and it was his money to give. They just did what they were hired to do. Who had a right to complain?”
Mercy sat up in bed and swung her legs over the side. “So since we belong to God, and we’ve agreed to live for Him, we should be willing to just do what He tells us to do
and stop griping to Him about the job and the wages and what the other guys get.”
There was a thoughtful silence. “Theodore stands to lose so much, Mercy. He may not get to see his daughter grow up.”
Mercy closed her eyes. She couldn’t imagine how that would feel. “I know. I keep thinking about that, too.”
“I’ll be praying for Tedi.” The very sound of his voice relayed his caring spirit.
“Thank you, Lukas. She’s just beginning to trust her father again. She’s still struggling with forgiveness, and if something happens to Theodore now…it could affect her deeply.”
“That sounds like someone speaking from experience.”
“I can’t help remembering…. I don’t want Tedi to go through what I did.” For Mercy, the anger toward Dad had come early, when she was about ten or eleven. By the time she was a teenager it had become a hardened knot of bitterness that prevented her from having a normal relationship with him. And then had come the guilt that clung to her in adulthood. When her father died six years ago, she was still struggling, and the guilt came in spite of the fact that she and her father had worked together in his practice—when he could work, when he wasn’t on a binge. When he was alive, she never quite outgrew the resentment at what his alcoholism had done to his family.
“Mercy,” Lukas said quietly, “there’s a difference. Theo has changed, and Tedi will have a chance to work through this. She’ll still have trouble, but she has your faith and hers to depend on.”
Mercy allowed his assurance to settle over her as if God was speaking the words. And in a way, He was. She had no doubt that God had used Lukas to impact her life, to teach her about Him, to lead her to Him.
“Lukas, do you know how much I love you?”
“I might be able to guess. I know how much I love you.”
Silent Pledge Page 31
