by Diane Moody
And the way he’d stood up for me back there.
And the way he’d put his hand against the small of my back . . .
What a strange weekend. After Tucker and I got home that night, we talked for a little while then said goodnight. He had to be up at 5:00 the next morning, with a long 48-hour shift ahead of him. It had been such a bizarre evening. Hardly what I would consider a legitimate first date. Who knew if there would be a second? Or third? Still, it was really nice of him to let us stay at his house while we got the townhouse aired out.
By the time we went back to the apartment Sunday night, the smell had subsided considerably. I’m guessing they kept our windows open the entire weekend. An exterminator had been by and said he didn’t find any more mice inside, though there was nothing he could do about the dead ones in the walls. Sandra and I had a long talk and decided to start looking for a house to rent. Nothing as nice as Tucker’s, of course. But we both agreed it would be nice to live in a real house and not share the “joys” of neighborly problems like mice.
Or so we hoped.
Chapter 18
Monday morning when I walked into the office, an enormous bouquet of red roses feathered with a mass of baby’s breath sat on the corner of Mrs. Baker’s desk. I guessed there were easily two dozen roses in the arrangement.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” I asked as Mrs. B looked up.
“Why, you are, Shelby. Aren’t they lovely?”
I stopped in my tracks. “For me? Oh, I’m sure there’s been some mistake.”
Sandra whipped around me, grabbing the card out of the arrangement. “Nope. No mistake. Says Shelby Colter clear as day. Ooohh, I wonder who could have sent them?” she teased, waggling her perfectly sculptured brows.
“And that’s not all,” Debra called from the back. “Your mystery admirer sent something for the rest of us too.”
Now this was just too weird. Who would send me flowers and something else to my co-workers? I snatched the card from Sandra’s hand and opened the envelope.
Shelby,
How about a do-over first date?
Saturday night at the Peabody.
I reserved us a booth . . .
(Chairs can be hazardous
to one’s date, you know.)
Tucker
My face began to warm.
“Well? Who sent them?” Sandra stomped impatiently. “I bet I know,” she sang like the tattletale she apparently was.
“Yeah, Shelby, who sent the Moonpies?” Rebecca shouted from the back office.
“Moonpies?” I said, the heat on my face now scorching.
“Two boxes of them!” Chelsea chimed in, already enjoying one of the chocolate confections. “Our card isn’t signed. It was just addressed to The Hostesses of BMH.”
I made my way to the back office and grabbed the card from Chelsea’s hand. Tucker would definitely hear about this.
Mrs. Baker stood in the doorway. “Well, Shelby?”
I straightened by back and headed to my cubicle to stash my purse. “They’re from Tucker Thompson,” I said quietly. “We’re just―”
“I knew it!” Sandra clapped her hands. “Flowers after a first date? How sweet is that? He must really be stuck on you!”
“You had a date with Dr. Thompson?” Chelsea asked, wiping chocolate from her mouth. “Whoa, girlfriend, that didn’t take long.”
“No, it isn’t like that! We’re just―”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just friends.” Debra taunted. “Of course you are. Which is why you went out on a date and he sent you roses. Riiiiiight.”
“All right, girls, that’s enough,” Mrs. Baker said. “Get your things and get to work. Time’s a wasting.”
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I gathered my supplies, reached for my new patient cards, and headed out the door while trying to ignore the seductive scent of those roses wafting through the entire office. Instead of breakfast in the cafeteria, I decided to go on up to my floor and get to work. I wasn’t sure why I was so embarrassed that Tucker had sent me roses—and those blasted Moonpies to the girls—but I didn’t want to think about it at the moment.
I made my rounds early then stopped in to see Donnie. I’d dropped by to see him after church on Sunday, but he was downstairs having more tests run. I’d left him a silly note and a bag of jelly beans. His favorite.
I could tell when I walked in, he wasn’t feeling well. “Hey, buddy. How are you this morning?”
“Hey, Shelby. Thanks for the jelly beans. You forgot to take out the red ones, of course.”
I put my hand over my mouth in fake-shock. “I forgot. Will you ever forgive me?”
“I doubt it.” He took a deep breath and waved me over to sit down.
“Talk to me, Donnie. What’s going on?”
“It’s rather frightening, actually.” Not a trace of humor on his face or in his voice.
Oh, please, Lord. No.
“I’m having a brain transplant. Mine is useless, you see, and they―”
“You are not funny.” I swatted his arm.
He quirked a lazy smile at me. “Oh, come on, you have to admit that was pretty funny.”
“Not in the least.”
“But I had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?”
“I don’t like you any more. In fact, I’m going to put in a request and have you moved to the psyche floor. They have lovely robes up there that tie in the back. You’ll look dashing.”
“Well, that’s not gonna work.”
“Yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because I’m having bypass surgery today around noon. Which means I’ve had nothing to eat and I’ll have to skip the yummy gruel at lunch.”
I stared at him. Then I narrowed my eyes. “Is this another joke?”
“Oh, if only it was, my dear.”
“Donnie, I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s all good. Better they unplug me now than plop me on a cold hard slab in your mortuary. I’ve got 65 percent blockage. Not good. Even at my age.”
He told me all about the tests, the consultations, and the conflicting diagnoses he’d received. It was so rare to have that much blockage at his age. But in the end, they all agreed surgery was mandatory.
“Are you scared?” I asked, reaching for his hand.
“Me? Scared?” he scoffed. He creased a fold in the blue blanket over his legs. “Out-of-my-mind-and-then-some scared,” he whispered.
I felt my eyes sting. “But you know you’ll feel so much better afterward, right?”
He just nodded then turned to look out the window.
“Donnie, would you let me pray with you?”
He inhaled then let it out slowly. “Oh, that’s really sweet, Shelby. But I don’t think so.”
“Really?” I said, before stopping myself. We’d both been active in Campus Crusade at Samford. Donnie sang and played the piano with our praise band. He’d even gone on a mission trip with us to the Dominican Republic. I remembered how great he was with all the kids. They loved him.
But then, we all loved him.
“I’m not into the whole God thing much anymore.” He avoided eye contact with me.
I felt like I’d been sucker-punched. “Oh . . . I’m sorry. I just assumed―”
“Oh, I know. We were a bunch of Jesus freaks and all that. But it was just a phase. At least for me.”
I couldn’t figure out what to say. Or what not to say.
He squeezed my hand. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you if you’re still into all that stuff.”
All that stuff? How could this be the same Donnie I used to sing duets with? How could this be the same Donnie who gave such a beautiful testimony to those kids in the Dominican about how God loved him in spite of his shortcomings and sins? Where was the joy that used to sparkle in his eyes when he shared his faith with others? I couldn’t believe it.
“Donnie, I want so badly to ask―”
“And I
promise, we’ll talk about it. We will.” He squeezed my hand again. “I just can’t right now. Not right before my surgery. I hope you understand.”
I nodded even though I didn’t understand at all. Now it was my turn to take a deep breath and blow it out. I peeked at him sheepishly. “But I’m still gonna pray for you. Today. And tonight. And tomorrow while you’re in surgery―”
“Pray away, Sister Rayce Catherine. Pray away.”
I held up my hand, moving it in the sign of the cross like a priest giving a blessing, an attempt of a smile plastered on my face.
He mimicked my actions, adding a monkish Latin-chant-incantation as he moved his hand. “My-father-plays-dominoes-better-than-yours-does . . . ah-ah-ah-mennn.”
“Love you, Donnie.”
“Love you, Shelby.”
I rode the elevator down to the main lobby. Just as I stepped out of it, I heard my name paged. I wasn’t in the mood for any more teasing back in the office, so I picked up the nearest hall phone. “You paged Shelby Colter?”
“Yes, Miss Colter,” the switchboard operator said. “I’ll connect you.”
“Shelby?”
Tucker? I couldn’t believe he was calling. What would I say about the roses?
“Oh, hi, Tucker. I, uh―”
“Shelby, I wanted to let you know. They just brought Dr. Love into the emergency room.”
“What?” My heart pounded.
“I only have a minute. I’m due in surgery with another patient, but I wanted to let you know. Just pray.”
“Oh, Tucker, what―”
“I’ll call you when I get out. Gotta run.”
I hung up and just stood there. I couldn’t think what to do. Should I go up to the prayer room on my floor and pray? Should I go down to the emergency room waiting area and look for Elsie?
Just then Mrs. Baker whipped by me. I reached out to catch her arm. “Oh, Mrs. Baker, did you hear―”
“I know. I’m on my way. Let’s go.”
The waiting room in the ER quickly filled with members of First Baptist. Mrs. Baker immediately engulfed Elsie Love in a hug and didn’t leave her side. I recognized a lot of faces but didn’t really know these people yet. Almost as soon as that thought drifted through my mind, Rachel arrived.
“Oh, Shelby! I came as soon as I heard.” She looked across the room at Elsie and Mrs. Baker. “Is Dr. Love okay? What happened?”
“I don’t know yet. Tucker just called and told me they’d brought Dr. Love in.”
“He seemed fine at church yesterday. I can’t imagine―”
“Wait,” I said. “When I met with him last week he seemed really short of breath.”
She tugged my arm toward the chairs and lowered herself into one. “He’s had some health issues in the past. We’ve always worried about him, carrying so much weight. The man does love to eat.” I sat down beside her. “Shelby, we should pray.” She reached for my hand and bowed her head. Rachel had the most natural faith of anyone I’d ever known. Her soft-spoken prayer came right from her heart and brought tears to my eyes as she asked God to protect our pastor from whatever had brought him here. If only I could have prayed with Donnie like this.
As we chatted with some of the church members, we learned that Dr. Love had been at his weekly breakfast with a group of men he mentors. They said he kept losing his train of thought and had trouble using his fork. A couple of the men who were there said they were afraid he was having a stroke.
Just then, Elsie was called back to talk to the doctor. At her request, Mrs. Baker accompanied her. A short time later my boss returned and filled us in.
“Thomas is stable. They’re monitoring him and have him scheduled for some tests. They’ll definitely be admitting him, so we’ll need to move to the first floor waiting area until we hear more. Elsie is going to stay with him for now and she said to thank you all for coming. Those of you who wish to stay, follow me.”
Everyone gathered their belongings and went upstairs with Mrs. Baker. I followed Rachel to her office. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed, Rachel.”
“I know. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep working.” She lowered herself into her chair behind her desk as I took a seat across from her. “I’d hoped to work until my ninth month, but I think little Cooper has other ideas.” She picked up a file folder and started fanning herself.
“I hope you’ll give notice and start getting some rest. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed this long.”
“Once I got past the morning sickness, I was fine. But Cooper keeps parking on my sciatic nerve and the pain can be pretty unbearable at times. Dr. Forsythe says I need to get off my feet as much as I can. Rich wanted me to stop working a month ago. So we’ll see.”
“Listen to your husband. Let someone else count the BMH beans for a while.”
She laughed and leaned back in her chair. “Wait. Back up a sec. Earlier, when we were down in the ER waiting room, did you say Tucker called you about Dr. Love?”
“What? Oh. Yeah. He paged me. He was going into surgery but he’d heard they’d brought―”
“Am I missing something here?” She tilted her head slightly.
“What do you mean?”
“Tucker called you.”
Then it hit me. Rachel and I hadn’t had much time together lately. She had no idea.
“Oh. Well, we . . . uh . . .”
“You? And Tucker Thompson?” Her face lit up.
I shot her a silly smile.
“What?!” She spun her chair to face me directly. “Shelby! You didn’t tell me you were dating Tucker!”
“Rachel, we aren’t ‘dating’ per se. We just went out the other night. And the whole evening was actually kind of weird.”
“Weird how?”
I told her about our strange date, starting with the mice then the chair incident at the restaurant, ending with my weekend stay at his house with Sandra.
She grinned from one ear to the other. “And?”
I busied myself studying my cuticle. “And he sent me flowers this morning,” I mumbled.
“He sent you flowers?” She was clearly enjoying our conversation. “What kind of flowers?”
“Roses. Lots and lots of roses,” I said with a sheepish grin. “With a funny card asking for a ‘do-over’ first date.”
Her smile grew wider.
“At the Peabody.”
Her eyebrows lifted at least half an inch up her forehead. “The Peabody?” she whispered.
“Yes. The Peabody.”
“Well, then. I suppose that tells me all I need to know.”
The expression on her face was so goofy, I had to laugh. I cleared my throat and stood up. “And on that happy note, I need to get back to work.”
“I’d get up but―”
“Don’t you dare. And put in your notice, Rachel. Go home and go to bed. Dr. Colter’s orders,” I said as I walked out her door.
“Let me know if you hear anything about Dr. Love,” she added.
“Will do. Oh! By the way. I forgot to tell you Donnie Rogers is up on my floor.”
“Donnie? From Campus Crusade?”
“One and the same. He’s having bypass surgery at noon today. Can you imagine? I’m really worried about him.”
“He’s too young to have bypass surgery!” She fanned herself even harder.
“Tell that to his doctors. Anyway, keep him in your prayers. I’d tell you to stop by and see him, but you need to stay off your feet.”
“What room is he in?” She grabbed a notepad and pen then looked up at me.
“You don’t mind very well, do you?”
“Room 9—”
“He’s in 919.”
“Thanks, Shelby.”
“Sure. Just don’t blame me if you go into early labor.”
“Bye, Shelby.”
“Bye, Rachel.”
Chapter 19
As soon as I walked out of Rachel’s door, I headed for Donnie’s room. I jumped on
the elevator, praying I’d make it upstairs before he was wheeled away to the OR. As I stepped onto the floor, I caught a glimpse of him on a gurney being wheeled to the back elevators.
“Donnie!”
The orderly stopped, and Donnie glanced in my direction.
“Hey sweetie,” he said, clearly a little loopy from some pre-surgery meds.
I reached for his hand. “How are you, buddy?”
“Feeling no pain, my dear. Dancing on clouds with fairies and unicorns.” He inhaled, closing his eyes. “Is that cotton candy I smell?”
I winked at the orderly. “Sure is. They always serve cotton candy before surgery.”
“Mmmm,” he moaned happily. “With Hershey’s on top?”
“Anything for you, buddy.”
I leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’m praying for you, Donnie. Whether you like it or not.”
“That’s nice.” A lazy smile graced his face.
“I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay. Tell Big Bird hi for me.”
“Will do. And Bert and Ernie too.”
“You’re the best, Shelby.”
“Love you, Donnie. Sweet dreams.”
After his gurney disappeared from sight, I decided to spend some time in my prayer room. I tapped on the door to make sure no one was using it. When no one responded, I walked into the dark, quiet room. It felt good to spend time talking to God about Donnie. I was still baffled by his easy dismissal of the Lord when we’d talked, but I didn’t want to worry about that right now. So I prayed for Donnie’s surgeons, for his protection during the procedure, and for a speedy recovery. I couldn’t imagine having such serious health problems at our age. And to think it wasn’t the first time he’d had problems.
I let my mind wander back to the days when we hung out together. I couldn’t think of Donnie without smiling or laughing. He had the most contagious laughter of anyone I knew. Which got us into all kinds of trouble when we worked together. I have vivid memories of working the counter at Taco Barn, waiting on customers, while Donnie crawled on the floor beside me, out of the customers’ view, and pulled my knee socks down. I shrieked, of course, and lost it when I looked down to see him rolling on the floor laughing at me. It was so silly, so ridiculous, but one of my favorite memories of Donnie. Him, sprawled out on that nasty floor, laughing so hard he had tears running into his ears.
