Healing Grace

by Lisa J. Lickel

  She closed her eyes and let her cheek rest against his chest. Fear. Fear of losing him, and not being able to help him, as she had not been able to help Jonathan, locked her heart up tight. She moved away, took her tea, and drank. She set it down and smoothed her hair. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Dry eyes. Go home. Go home. No one will hurt you ever again, remember? He—they—are not your concern.

  Ted struggled to his feet. “Grace…please. I—we—need you.”

  When she stayed silent, he limped to the door. She watched, detached from the scene as if she watched a stage play. Ted stopped at the door. “You know how I feel, Grace. About us. Nothing’s different. I can’t hope for a future. Now—this moment—is all I have. And I want to share it with you.”

  He left.

  Things had changed between them. But for better or worse? She wasn’t sure.

  Grace flew out to Knoxville for a long weekend, driving over to Woodside and staying with Lena and her family. She did not go to her former house or even consider spending the night there. Only a year had passed—a year and a lifetime. The ceremony at the cemetery had been undemanding, respectful, well thought out, and low-key. The bronze plaque was elegant. Permanent. No one asked her to speak. She endured the photographs and said a calm thank you for the newspaper and radio and couldn’t wait to leave. Reverend Edwards spoke to her formally, stiff as his letter had been, asking kindly about her new life. She answered him as plainly and soberly about her work at the clinic, the little boy next door, and his sick father. They knew each other well enough to understand without words the emotional and spiritual cost for her to attend another sick man.

  “I never cease to marvel at the wondrous wit of the Lord God,” Reverend Edwards said, barely a hint of a humor twisting his mouth. Grace watched him mull over the thought in his mind and predicted the title of next Sunday’s sermon.

  Few others spoke to her. She was the one who’d left them and they didn’t like it, no matter the cause.

  “Who said, ‘you can’t go home again’?” she asked Lena a little while later. The Woodside clinic had been deprived of two medical specialists and it would be another year before another doctor was ready to join them. Woodside preferred homegrown professionals.

  They sat in Lena’s quiet, darkened office with only the dim fading afternoon light from the window illuminating the room. They shared a cup of green tea, companionable but strangers, too, after all this time.

  “So, you live in an old apple orchard?” Lena asked, smiling.

  “It’s the motherin-law place on the homestead. The main family house is across the driveway. The orchards have been abandoned.”

  Grace hesitated over how much more to add. Lena always seemed to know her heart and this time didn’t press for details. “Michigan is very nice. Cold, snowy, but great food,” Grace went on. “Church is pretty dried up, though.”

  They shared a grin, thinking of Reverend Edwards’s rapturous, loud, arm-waving sermons.

  “That was nice of the town, what they did today,” Grace said after a while. “Thank you for your part, too.” Lena had spoken about Jonathan and Sean, and brought the crowd to tears.

  “A small thing. I’m just glad you’ve landed on your feet. I miss you. “

  Guilt broke the sense of companionship. Landed on her feet? She felt more like she had been shoved to the ground. The view from the floor was not all that great. She needed a strong arm to raise her up—something Ted Marshall did not possess, nor could she give it to him. How could she tell Lena that she was about to fail, big time, again?

  “I miss you, too. Thanks for finding me and writing. I’ll be better at staying in touch. Promise.”

  Elizabeth Runyon welcomed her for a quiet reunion at dinnertime, speaking soothingly of the hotel and a few incidents that occurred over winter. Grace told her about her new church, the Michigan tourist trade, Shelby and the baby, how different and alike her new patients were, and the hill folk who resettled around Grand Traverse Bay after the auto industry tanked.

  “And, you, Grace. Are you happy? Did you discover your purpose?”

  Elizabeth would be the one to bring that up. Grace could never claim to have simply wound up in Michigan through fate, or running out of gas. Everything under the sun had a specific purpose. “I thought I did. When I first came up there, this man and his little boy came right to me. Ted was limping. I was sure I was there to heal him.”

  “And now? It’s been a year.”

  “I know.” She stumbled over her thoughts admiring her motherin-law’s serenity. “I…” She looked down at the lace doily place mat under her tea cup and swallowed. “Well, I didn’t want to, at first. Heal him, that is, not after, after…Jonathan.” The last came out whispered, fraught with guilt. “Now I don’t know if I can anymore. There were a couple of accidents at the clinic recently. I’m not sure what happened.” She described the trouble with Tony’s blood draw and the rash of the arthritic woman.

  “The gift is not yours to wield at your disposal. You’ve always known that. It is for God to say the right time and place.”

  “I hate that!” Grace jumped to her feet, agitated, itching to run away again. “When I thought I was supposed to, then I didn’t want to use it. Now that I want to, I can’t.”

  “What changed your mind about helping that man?”

  How could she admit to her motherin-law that, if she could thaw enough to have feelings, she might find love with someone else?

  “My dear, you’re a young woman. It’s natural to want to love again.”

  Grace blinked. How could she know? “What if he dies? Like-like Jonathan? How can God ask that of me? To love him and think that he can be healed, when he can’t?”

  “You don’t need me to remind you that the Lord only gives as much as He knows we can take.”

  “I’m not that strong, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth only smiled.

  Grace returned to East Bay, mixed up in her mind and uncertain she wanted to stay. She might be better off somewhere else. Someplace where no one needed her and there was no chance of hurt.

  Spring in western Michigan was a promise and a tease. Verdant grass, daffodil and tulip buds conflicted with the ice still piled up on Grand Traverse Bay. Steelhead migrated from the big lake upstream to spawn. Rafts of snow slunk among the off-road stands of pine, oak, and birch. The fruit orchards took their time responding to the warmth and longer amounts of sunshine with leaves and eventual buds.

  Patient care remained routine and incident-free at the clinic. But that was a concern to Grace in a way she couldn’t share: routine was routine. No sparks, no energy, no sped-up healing of infections or wounds. Greg stopped watching her every move. She wished her state of mind were as asymptomatic. Shelby proved to be a good sounding board, and Grace was grateful for her friendship.

  On a beautiful, quiet Saturday in Grace’s back yard, Alyssa slept in her carrier on a blanket in the shade of a big maple tree while she and Shelby chatted. Eddy explored a new ant colony taking shape at the corner of his playhouse, counting out loud for them the number of soldiers snaking out in a long line.

  “What a great day. So warm.” Shelby lifted her face skyward. “We can still get snow this time of year.”

  “Wow.” Grace bent over the baby and watched her purse her little mouth. “I feel so restless these days. Ted and I need to discuss what to do about Eddy over the summer when I’m working at the clinic, too, if I stay here in East Bay.”

  “Well, I can help with that, Grace. I’ll be happy to keep Eddy two of the days. That should ease your mind a bit.”

  Then her eyes widened. She searched Grace’s face. “Wait! What do you mean, ‘if I stay’? You’re not thinking of leaving, are you? You only got here! Where would you go? What would we do without you?”

  Grace snorted. “It’s so hard. It seems the reasons I felt I had to run away from Woodside were all in my head, now that I’ve been back, and talked to some of the people there.” She looked at
Alyssa, making little sucking noises in her sleep. “But yet, it didn’t feel entirely comfortable, either,” she admitted. The quiet thing inside her head, the real fear that the healing gift was gone for good after its brief appearance, she couldn’t share.

  “You’re worried about Ted, aren’t you?”

  Grace swallowed before she answered. “More like afraid. He’s slowing down quite a lot again. We’re all frustrated. It’s almost like watching my husband die all over again.” She swallowed, tasting the acid and lowered her voice. “It’s hard to explain to Eddy. He’s a little trooper about the whole thing even though he doesn’t really understand what’s happening to his father. I don’t know where exactly I fit into all of this, how much I want to fit in, or for that matter, if it’s any of my business.”

  “I hope I never, ever, have to go through what you did, but Ted has come to rely on you,” Shelby finally said. She skewered Grace with a piercing gaze from her brown irises. “I’ve never considered myself a busy-body or matchmaker, or whatever.” Her eyes filled to overflowing. “Ted went from having no will to live, to fight this, whatever, attacking him, and hardly knowing what to do about his child, to finding a reason to beat this thing. It’s not fair, I know.” She sniffed and used the edge of the cloth diaper on her shoulder to wipe at her eyes and nose. “It’s just that I care about you both so much. You’ve been there for me when I needed you, and for Eddy and for Ted. And we give you nothing in return.”

  Grace disagreed, but waited for a moment to put her thoughts in order. “Of course it’s not like that, girlfriend.”

  Eddy wandered over to them, plunking himself in her lap with a cookie he picked up from the bag they’d brought out with them earlier. She hugged him and jiggled him until he giggled.

  “I was so wrapped up in myself, back in my former life. It finally doesn’t hurt to think about what went on those last few years,” she said, surprised at the confession.

  Shelby sniffled loudly. “Go on.”

  “It’s true. I admit it. I became complacent, and I think, so did Jonathan. Everything always went right for us. Having a baby worked out, eventually. We didn’t question giving any more or less to anyone around us than they asked. We stopped doing anything we didn’t feel comfortable with and took whatever was handed out, proud of ourselves and our blessings and our talents, our lifestyle. Then, of course, my world fell apart.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Grace nodded and folded a sleepy Eddy against her heart. “But even at that, my way of handling things was to run away.”

  “I can’t imagine what I would have done.”

  “Like you said, I hope you never have to. I reacted the same way I lived, by hiding and doing whatever I could to make me comfortable. Always for me. So I think it’s well time that I give back. It’s right that I do things for others. In a way, it helps me out, too, keeping my mind off of myself, healing my heart.”

  She thought for a moment and added, “Of course it’s not all one-sided. Your support” —she rocked Eddy— “and companionship,” —she looked around the yard— “and this home, have been the solace that I needed. Loving involves giving. I think I’m finally beginning to understand that.”

  “Oh, Grace. I still don’t think it’s fair.”

  She reached out to touch Shelby’s arm. “Thank you.”

  “I want you to stay.”

  Eddy squirmed. “I’m going with you.”

  “What would your daddy do without you, little man?” Shelby asked.

  “Daddy will come, too.”

  Grace pulled him into a giggling swinging hug. “Maybe we’d all better stay here, then.”

  At least for now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Randy shut off his headlights as he pulled into his driveway. Kaye’s car blocked his spot in front of the garage. He knew Tanya had gone back to Detroit to be with her father over Easter vacation. So what was her aunt doing over here?

  Randy turned off the engine and rolled down his window to the cool damp night air. He watched Kaye head toward Grace’s front porch. The way the house faced, he saw what she did through the window: the silhouette of a man. She paused. Before she lost her nerve she knocked.

  Little boy giggles spilled out and echoed around the front porch when the door opened. The warmth and inclusiveness hit Randy in the hollow pit of his stomach. He couldn’t imagine what it did to her. In the yellow porch light, he saw her stiff back and her clenched fists held behind.

  “Kaye! How nice to see you.” Grace’s voice floated on the evening air. “Come in. Did you need help with something?”

  “Happy Easter. I was just next door, and, ah, no one answered. I happened to notice you were home.”

  Eddy popped into the doorway. “Kaye! Yeah! Look, Dad, it’s Kaye! What are you doing here?” the little boy demanded. “Who’s making lunch at the diner if you’re here?” He whooped again and dove back into the house, out of sight.

  Randy had reached the edge of the yard before he realized what he was doing. He paused, listening, knowing he shouldn’t.

  Ted appeared next, apparently as comfortable and homebound as if he still lived there. “Hi. What can we do for you?”

  “Hello,” Kaye said, bringing her hands away from her back. “I was out for a drive, and wondered what you were up to. I thought maybe Grace might know where you were.”

  Ted looked back before shuffling out to the porch and tugging the door closed behind him. “I’m here.”

  “I see. It’s nothing, really. I thought maybe you’d like to have Easter dinner with me.”

  Randy sucked in a breath, misery, fury, embarrassment all vying for dominance. Why had she said it like that? Why not invite all of them? He turned away. Kaye shouldn’t be throwing herself at Ted like that.

  “This isn’t really polite,” Kaye said next. “I don’t know why I came over here when it was obvious you weren’t home. I apologize.” She turned and began to hike down the steps.

  Too right. Randy twisted sideways to duck behind a branch.

  “Wait! Kaye!” Ted shuffled after her. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you. I’ll check with Grace and Randy and see—”

  “It’s okay, Ted. I don’t want to intrude.”

  Randy watched his little brother grab hold of the rail by the steps, looking as if he’d have followed if he could have. Why did everything have to be so backward? Ted shouldn’t be crippled and Kaye should know how he—

  He stepped from behind the branch. “Hello.”

  She put hands over her mouth in obvious surprise. Without a word she stomped around him, ripped open the driver’s side of her car, and started the engine with a terrific grinding of gears.

  Randy pounded on her window. She bent her head before fumbling for the switch to roll down the pane of glass that separated them.

  He pretended ignorance. “Were you looking for m—us? What do you want?”

  She killed the engine. He had to lean close to hear her breathy speech.

  “Randy, what do we know about this Grace person? Really? She came here with only the clothes on her back. Is she running from the law? Is she a criminal? How can we trust anything about her? And didn’t she pay cash for the place? Who has that kind of money, anyway?” Kaye searched his face earnestly, eyes dark and bright in the moonlight.

  Randy squatted at her side, hands on the open frame, his face close to hers, inhaling the slightly yeasty sweet smell of her. She must have been setting a batch of rolls to rise for tomorrow’s baking. If only she knew. How could he ever convince her that he was every bit as good as Ted? He could love her and care for her better? He had never been involved with another woman after Jenny. Only a miracle would reverse Ted’s condition. They all knew it. She did not need to be jealous. Maybe…maybe if he did something that would prove his worth, Kaye could see him for who he was. “I did a background check. Ted trusts—”

  “Ted!” Anger spewed in the word. “What kind of shape is he in to
make judgments? It’s Ted we’re all concerned about, isn’t it? And her. Who knows what she’s really after? How can you let her live here for a year and still know virtually nothing about her? I hear things, Randy.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and moved to open the door. He rose and stepped back, opening the door and grasping her elbow. She shrugged him off.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” What else could he say?

  “You travel all the time. You must know where she came from. You probably pass through Tennessee all the time on the way to Charleston and Atlanta. You could just, um, take a little detour sometime, check it out. You know, find out something…” She let her voice trail off, silence speaking for her.

  “Everyone likes her.” That wasn’t exactly true. The prime example stood right here.

  “She works at the clinic. People have to be able to trust her,” Kaye insisted.

  “Don’t you think that’s Doctor Evans’s problem? You order things for her from your store.”

  “So? That’s business. Her money is as good as anyone’s. Besides, what harm could it do? If she has nothing to hide, that is.” She put her hands on her hips and tapped one foot on the gravel. “Randy?”

  “Yeah, what harm could it do?” he replied. “I have an appointment in Birmingham next week. I could take a day then.”

  Her smile glinted in the cold moonlight. She was already back into her car by the time he opened his mouth again. “Maybe, when I get back—”

  Her car window glided up, shutting him out as she drove away.

  Randy emerged from the rental car he picked up at the airport and looked up and down the short main street of Woodside. He had been glad of the air conditioning on the drive from Knoxville. The trees were already leafed out and flowers bloomed in their pots along the main street. White and pink dogwood blossoms wafted their spicy sweet fragrance. Several people window-shopped in various multicolored and textured storefronts.

  He asked around about the Runyons at the Woodside version of Kaye’s Café, at the hotel, at the gas station, but received very little response. It made him wonder what folks in East Bay would say about him, should any stranger ever come into town looking for information about the Marshalls.