Healing Grace

by Lisa J. Lickel

  The flash of healing touch never returned after she’d healed Tanya. Had God left her? Was she no longer following his good and perfect will after what had happened with Jilly? She doubted herself and her courses of treatment more and more. What could bring it back?

  Maybe in this good and peaceful moment she could call upon the gift for Ted. She released his hand. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She inhaled and closed her eyes, remembering the accusation in Jimmy’s eyes when he’d seen her after treating Tanya. She reached around Ted and slipped her hands up under his shirt to carefully nudge along his spine.

  Now, Lord? Can I use your power to heal this man?

  She felt nothing but his flesh. No heat, no spark of energy, only the familiar bumps and ridges of the vertebrae through his skin. Hurt and afraid, she opened her eyes, the fragment of mystery broken.

  Ted pulled back to look at her. “Something you want?”

  She shook her head. “No. Just…checking.”

  He laughed and nuzzled her neck, threading his hands through her hair. “Hmm, you smell so good. What were you doing?”

  Heaving a sigh, she tugged his face away. “I wondered if I could feel it.”

  “Feel it? You mean, what’s wrong? It’s not in my spine, the doctor said.” He took her hand and put his lips against her palm. “I didn’t mind, you know. That’s about the only thing that works.”

  She leaned toward his mouth and let their lips touch, teasing, questioning, exploring. It would be so easy to give in. Back down, girl. You have no right.

  “You made me wonder something,” Ted said.

  “Wonder? What about?”

  “What it’s like, you know, when you’re truly in love. I realize I never had that before.”

  “You were married, Ted.”

  “Not in the right way. Not like you and Jonathan.”

  Grace went silent. What could she say?

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking like that.”

  “No. You shouldn’t.” She twisted in his arms so she could rest her head on Ted’s shoulder and still feel the rumble of his voice under her cheek.

  “Don’t you ever wish we—”

  She put her hand up over his mouth. “I just showed up one day, bought your house, and helped you out when you needed it. I don’t want to talk about anything else.”

  Ted pulled her hand away. “What if I asked you—”

  The screen door creaked and bounced twice when Eddy poured out of the house like a glass of spilled milk. “Will somebody listen to me? I hafta read my story out loud. Mrs. Webb says it’s important homework. She gives us a checkmark when we do it. Then you sign this paper.”

  Grace sat up and slid away from Ted to make room for him on the swing. Eddy snuggled up onto the seat. He leaned against his father, eyes dark and solemn with impossibly long lashes.

  “Who will sign my paper? Mrs. Webb says for my mom or dad to sign it.”

  It seemed important to Eddy that they talk over this business of signing before reading.

  “I will,” Ted said immediately.

  “But Daddy, I want Grace to sign it.” He leaned over and stage whispered to his father, “I wished she was my mama, you remember, at my birthday cake. I asked God about it in Sunday School, too. Then she can sign.”

  Grace went very still. A tremble started in her elbows and worked upward. She tried not to look at Ted but could not turn away from the sight of gleaming moisture gathering in his eyes. In slow motion she watched his lips part and heard his words.

  “That…well, Eddy. We love Grace very much. But she can’t…” He looked helpless.

  Grace turned away and bit the inside of her cheek.

  “Eddy, you know I won’t always be here for you, remember? We talked about it. And Uncle Randy will take care of you then. You have your own room and everything and won’t have to move. Kaye will always be here, and…”

  Ted choked and gathered his son tight, his tears streaming into the boy’s hair.

  Eddy turned demonic. He hit back, beating his little fists on his father’s side and back and arm. “I want Grace! I don’t want Kaye! I don’t want Unca Randy!”

  Pent-up confusion and helplessness fueled a rage that only the very young can know. His cries were barely short of hysterical and he gasped. “Grace! Grace! I want Grace!”

  She reached for Eddy, angry and so sad that she felt her heart creaking. Eddy clung so tightly that she could not take a deep breath. Why were the only emotions she was allowed despair and pain? She turned away from Ted, who huddled on the swing. Eddy swung his legs tightly around Grace and rocked hard, almost pulling her over in his wild grief. She walked unsteadily to the other edge of the porch, where she leaned him on the railing and clung to him. “Shh, shh,” she whispered, “it will be all right.”

  It was the classic mother’s lie. Nothing would ever be all right for this little boy. She rocked to the side so she could look at Ted who sat, forehead on his arms, hands clenched in his hair, rocking in his own agony.

  “Why, God? Please, let me do something,” she prayed to her silent Lord. “Don’t deny me the gift now. It’s not fair that you asked this of me—to watch helplessly. You let me help others recover from their ailments—wasn’t I doing what you wanted? Why are this man and his child so unimportant that you don’t help them? Or is it me, Lord? Are you punishing me because I hesitated to obey when I first came here? Are you punishing everyone around me to make me suffer? It’s not fair!”

  Randy, alarmed at the shriek from next door, came hustling across the yard. He stood, silent, at the foot of the steps, his hands and jaws clenched. His prayers joined Grace’s.

  “What do I live for? What do you want from me? What can I do so that you will spare my brother? I will gladly give you myself.”

  Eddy’s sobs gradually calmed. Grace continued to pray, trying to regulate her breathing. “When will it be? When will you let me know when you’ll let me work the gift you bestowed upon me? When he’s dead and gone? Why did you bring me here, put this in my face, and then deny me, Lord?”

  “It’s not time yet.” Randy heard the voice and looked heavenward.

  “It’s not time yet. Peace.” Grace heard the whisper and breathed it in.

  “Shhh. Be still.” Ted had never heard the wind sound so much like a voice speaking to him. Shhh…shhh, Eddy. Be still, my son. I love you.

  Randy appeared at the clinic one afternoon when Grace’s shift was over. He held his hat in his hands, twisting it around and around while he waited for her to finish logging her reports.

  “I hoped to talk to you privately. Can you—would you mind going for a little drive with me if you have time now? I promise we’ll be back before school is out.”

  “Sure, Randy.” She checked out and walked with him to his vehicle. Randy drove to the edge of East Bay to the turnout at the Lake Michigan shore. This time of day they had the little space to themselves. Randy let down his window before turning off the engine. They listened to the waves and gulls for a few minutes in companionable silence.

  “I heard from Jimmy today,” Randy said.

  “Oh? How is he?”

  “He sounded good. Says he liked your package. Thanks for thinking of him, Grace.”

  “You’re welcome. He’s a fine young man.”

  “You did more for him in an hour than I did his whole life.”

  “Randy, I don’t think so. This can’t be the reason you wanted to talk to me.”

  Randy fiddled with the keys. “I found myself judging you awhile back. I guess I’ve been doing it ever since you came to town, when you never deserved that from me. I’ve always had that tendency, to put people I meet in a particular box, and it hasn’t done anyone around me any good. Certainly not my son. It’s been good this summer, getting to know him in a way I never took the chance to before. You’ve been helpful in that regard.”

  Grace laid her head against the comfortable seat and closed her eyes.

  “Th
e thing is, I know you have some sort of special thing you can do with people’s hurts and I even know that it’s because of the kind of faith you have.” He tapped the steering wheel in helpless gesture. “When I think of how I accused you of not being a church-going woman at first…”

  “You also accused me of being unfaithful to your brother. What do you want, Randy?”

  “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know how much longer I can stay in East Bay. It doesn’t matter how sorry everyone is. The damage is done. I don’t trust myself.”

  “But Ted—can’t you help him?” Randy asked. “Can’t you do anything for him, like you did for Jimmy? Or Tanya? They told me, you know, in Woodside, that you helped people there. They were afraid when you left that things would change, that no one could get better again.”

  He looked at his hands clasped tightly before him. “This one man, he said that when your boy and your husband died, they were afraid that you would be angry with them, that you wouldn’t be able to help them anymore. But you helped people when you came here, didn’t you? Even when you didn’t like me?”

  The plaintive note in Randy’s voice convulsed Grace’s heart into an angry lump. She brought her elbows up over her ears. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t think I can.” Grace leaned over and let the tears flow. “God doesn’t hear me these days.” When she felt more in control she took his proffered handkerchief and rubbed her eyes and nose.

  “I hadn’t cried for so long, not since I, well, before I lost my husband.”

  “Maybe I don’t really know… No, that’s not right.” He shook his head. “I hope I never know what it feels like to go through what you have over the last few years, Grace. I also want you to know that Kaye and I are getting married after Thanksgiving.”

  Tears welled again and Grace turned her head away. “I’m so glad for both of you,” she said. “I apologize for this crying jag. I’m happy for you. You know Ted tried to set us up.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, that lasted all of two seconds, didn’t it?” He cleared his throat. “The thing is, we don’t want you to leave, Grace. Not Kaye, or me, or Eddy.”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head and sniffed.

  “It will be so hard for Eddy after, well, afterward. The other night was a small sample of what he’ll—we’ll all go through, after…”

  “My whole life is like some big sacrifice. I’m just supposed to go and watch people I love die slow painful deaths. What about me?” She shoved the car door open and strode to the railing surrounding the overlook.

  She paced along the shore for several minutes, her jacket billowing around her in the breeze, her hair flying all over her face and shoulders. She had not had it cut since she moved to Michigan. It was longer than she was used to, falling down between her shoulder blades. The gulls squawked above, turning in aimless circles hoping to spot a speck of dinner that hadn’t been there on the last pass. Cold, steely waves broke and foamed white, inward toward the shore. The breeze blew chill fingers under her jacket and up her sleeves. She glanced over her shoulder at the car to see Randy watching through the windshield. She turned to climb back in beside him.

  They said nothing at all as Randy returned her to the clinic parking lot to pick up her car.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Grace’s cell phone rang from its cradle on her nightstand. She rolled over and automatically flipped it open in the dark. She squinted at the too bright display. Shelby? “Hi, what’s up?”

  “I’m so sorry, Grace. I didn’t know what else to do. I know I can’t just call for antibiotics anymore, but she’s so little. I don’t know what to do to take away her pain.”

  “And yours, too, right?” Grace rolled over to look at her alarm clock’s illuminated green dial. Two-thirty in the morning. Yeah, morning.

  She yawned. Shelby’s little girl wailed in the background. “Davy’s away, fishing, isn’t he? Okay, I’ll be right over. You can make a washcloth warm by soaking it in hot water, but only hot enough that you can hold it comfortably in your hand for several seconds, and hold it against her ear. You probably know about that. Sometimes it helps or at least distracts them a little. I’ll get dressed and come over, okay? Hang on.”

  She realized she was repeating herself and hoped that Shelby wouldn’t notice.

  After pulling on some jeans and a shirt, she shoved her feet into tennies, grabbed a windbreaker, and headed out to her car, brushing feebly at her head. The brisk air woke her up a little more and she looked up at the brilliant diamond night sky. There must have hardly been any moonlight to interfere with the starshine. She almost hated to put on her headlights as she drove.

  Shelby met her at the door. Alyssa bounced in her baby seat on the living room floor, flapping her arms and throwing her little body backward against the restraints with all her might. Her little face was puckered and red and her hair was sweaty ringlets.

  “What’s her temp?” Grace asked first.

  “Oh! How could I…? Um, give me a moment.”

  Shelby was so flustered that Grace pushed her down on the couch. “Never mind. I know where it is. Hang out, relax.”

  “She’s so little,” her friend said helplessly. “I just, I just—how much baby pain medicine can I give her? She had a few drops already but she screams so hard she throws up.”

  Grace came back into the living room in time to hear the last part of the lament. “If she’s throwing up, she’ll become dehydrated. Are you giving her water, too? Here, let’s check your temp.” Grace picked up the baby and slid the strip inside the baby’s gown under her arm, holding her firmly a few seconds for the sensitive tape to register the temperature.

  Alyssa’s mom paced nearby. “How high is it? Should we take her to Bay Bridge?”

  “She’s sweaty. The fever isn’t very high. I don’t think we need to take her anywhere at this point.”

  “Oh. Well, sweating is good, isn’t it?”

  Grace had no doubt Shelby knew all about children’s temperatures and was simply exhausted and panicked. She’d sometimes felt the same with Sean, although she’d had Jonathan for back up.

  She drew a lukewarm bath for the baby and took her into the bathroom, ordering Shelby to lie down on the couch and close her eyes for a little.

  The water distracted Alyssa enough for Grace to encourage her to take some baby drops of medicine and keep them down. A couple of hours later both mother and daughter were relaxed enough that Grace felt comfortable leaving them again.

  “Call me any time yet tonight if you need anything,” she whispered on her way out. “But definitely check in with me tomorrow and let me know how she is, okay?”

  She left them cuddled on the sofa under Shelby’s favorite granny square afghan.

  Later in the afternoon Grace and Ted sprawled on a blanket in her backyard. Meager fall sunlight made it pleasant enough to be outside with a couple of sweatshirts for warmth. Eddy played with his basketball and hoop, two curious kittens prancing around exploring whenever Eddy dropped the ball.

  “I couldn’t sleep last night. I saw you leave,” Ted remarked.

  “Oh? Checking up on me?” She laughed. “Shelby called. You know Davy’s gone.”

  “Yeah. We usually go fishing. Another thing I miss.”

  Grace studied his expression, wondering if he meant now, or forever. She yawned. “Alyssa had an earache, and I only went for moral support.”

  Ted turned on his side. He bent his elbow and made a fist to rest his cheek on.

  “I’m sure she was glad to see you.” He touched her hand.

  “She was. That’s what friends are for, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Ah, I wondered about that—what we’re here for, that is.”

  Grace felt muzzy-headed with missing sleep and couldn’t tell if he was making idle talk or if he really wanted an answer. “I think we’re here for each other. To cherish each other and help each other be brave when things get rough.”


  He gripped her hand with convulsive strength but turned his face away. “I’m not brave, Grace. Sometimes I’m so afraid.” He spoke so quietly that she had to lean in close to catch it.

  “Afraid of what?”

  “I guess of dying. Of being so lonely without Eddy and you and Randy… How can anyone bear it?”

  She took a deep breath, debating whether to keep their conversation light or delve deeper. “What do you think will happen?”

  “I’m not sure.” He moved uncomfortably as his leg spasmed. He sat up and kneaded the taut muscle above his shin. His expression softened when he looked at his son.

  “That it might hurt.” He shivered. “Is that what happened to you? That you couldn’t bear it, alone, after your husband died? Is that why you ran?”

  Grace touched his cheek. He had shaved that morning, and his skin was still smooth. How much more alone would she feel without this man? Why had she run in the first place, anyway?

  “In a way, Jonathan left me long before he died. When he—we—both knew that nothing could be done to preserve his life, it seemed like he…turned off.” She looked at him carefully to see if he understood. He nodded.

  “You see, I was afraid, too,” she said. “Afraid they would hate me, think I didn’t try hard enough to help him and blame me for his death. Everyone loved him.”

  “Did they act like that? Like…like some of them did, here? Say anything?”

  She shook her head. To buy time, she plucked a few blades of grass and rolled them between her fingers. The moist scent of sweet summer lulled her, though the crackle of dried, dead leaves whispered around her. Summer was over. “No. How I reacted to what happened was all in my own head. I think I needed to learn more about who I was. I only knew the parts that everyone else claimed. Daughter, wife, mother, PA. I ran away so I could figure out what part of me was the most important. I still don’t know.”

  Ted set his hand on hers again. “I know. And it isn’t what you are to everyone. It’s who you are inside that’s important. To me, and to Eddy. That’s what I treasure most. That’s what I want to hold on to forever.”