Reagan remembered the sadness of Jalen’s death, too. Landon and Jalen were both firefighters, best friends from college. “How many days was Landon at Ground Zero looking for him?”
“Too long.” Clouds had covered the sun. Ashley stood. “I hate thinking about it. Let’s walk again.”
For a few minutes they moved along the path without saying anything, lost in the memories of that long-ago time. “Tommy’s definitely joining us. Not sure if I told you.”
“You did.” Ashley smiled. “I wish Cole could come. He has eighteen credits this semester. Too busy to get away.” They enjoyed this, talking about their kids.
“Tommy’s asking about his grandfather.” Reagan stared straight ahead. “They’re a lot alike. I see that the older Tommy gets.”
Ashley nodded. “The trip will be good for him. Good for us all.” She took a deep breath. “Even if it’s draining.”
They kept on and at the end of the walkway they stopped at Quills for coffee. The air was cooler, ushering in the thunderstorms forecast for that night. “The weather…” Ashley sipped her latte. “It’s like life. You never know when the blue skies are going to disappear.”
“True.” Reagan had once heard a speaker refer to the journey of life, and how only God could get them through the lightning and wind. Let the Lord drive, the man had said. He knows how to get His people safely home.
Ashley pointed to a family of ducks. “Aww.” She walked to the water’s edge and Reagan followed her. “Look at them. Not a care in the world.”
Reagan watched the ducks swim off. “How’s Amy?”
A smile started in Ashley’s eyes. “Every day is a miracle.” She breathed deep. “When I think how things could be. I’m just… thankful. No other words.”
Several years ago Amy had come to live with Ashley after a terrible car accident took the lives of Ashley’s sister Erin, her husband and their other children. Only young Amy had survived the crash, and since then she had lived with Ashley and Landon and their family. Amy was fourteen now. Reagan sighed. “Her mannerisms, the things she says remind me so much of Erin.”
“Me, too. Like Erin left fingerprints on her little girl’s heart.” Ashley’s eyes welled up. “Amy misses her mother every day. But she’s doing so well. She really is.”
They walked back to the path and when they reached the parking lot, Reagan turned to Ashley. “I’m so glad you and Landon are going with us. No one else… no one gets what we all went through.”
Ashley hugged her. “You and Luke… the two of you were apart for an entire year after 9/11.”
“We’d be apart still if it wasn’t for you.” Reagan hadn’t talked about this since she and Luke married. But the truth remained. “You chased him down… and brought the two of us back together.”
They talked a few more minutes about their families. How Ashley’s dad—John Baxter—was doing well and how each of their kids was faring in school this year. “I’m glad they’re staying home.” Ashley looked at Reagan. “Remembering 9/11 won’t be easy.”
“But it’s part of our journey.” Reagan took hold of Ashley’s hands and gave them a slight squeeze. “A part where God was definitely driving.”
“Yes.” Ashley stepped back and checked the time on her phone. “I better go. See you tomorrow!”
Reagan climbed into her car and thought about all she still had to do, all that the next few days would bring. Tommy was taking his girlfriend to the doctor this afternoon, so he’d been distracted. Not focused on the trip to New York. At least he was no longer talking about joining the military instead of attending college. There would be time for that after getting his degree, if Tommy thought it best.
For now, Tommy had the grades to do anything with his life. He could be a doctor or a lawyer. Anything he wanted, really.
Before she started the car, Reagan stared at the tallest buildings in Indianapolis. The ones right across the canal. Her eyes found the offices on the top floors. Lights shone from the windows and Reagan could picture life on the other side of them.
People in their offices, talking and working on computers, making a dent in the day’s workload and planning ways to hit the goals and demands of their jobs. All with the prettiest views of the city. Just like life had been that Tuesday in New York City. Not for a minute did anyone up there that morning think they had so little time to live.
Her father wouldn’t have thought that, either.
She headed to the interstate. Malin and Johnny would be back from school by now, doing their homework. Reagan’s mother would arrive later that night from Florida to stay with them. And Luke’s father, John Baxter, was going to spend the weekend with Ashley’s kids.
All so that for just a few days they could go back again, back to the events of a time the nation would remember forever. For everyone else it was history. But for Reagan and Luke, Ashley and Landon it was something more.
It was personal.
* * *
ASHLEY TOOK HER time on the hour-long drive back to Bloomington. Her dad and stepmom were already at the house, getting Devin and Amy and Janessa ready for a four-day weekend together. Tonight, dinner was pizza—so Ashley and Landon could focus on packing.
Like she had told Reagan, her time at the art gallery had gone exceedingly well. God continued to give her inspiration for her paintings and people kept buying them. But there was something she hadn’t told Reagan.
Landon’s cough was worse.
He wasn’t fighting a cold and he didn’t have bronchitis. No fever or chills or congestion. Just a cough. Worse than last year at this time. Maybe—if she was honest—Landon was a little short of breath. And possibly more tired than he should be.
So last night after Landon and the kids were asleep, Ashley had moved into the art space next to their bedroom, opened her laptop and started searching. It wasn’t the first time she’d been concerned about Landon’s health and certainly it wasn’t the only situation where she’d turned to the Internet for answers. Years ago Landon had struggled with lung issues, but then, miraculously, he had gotten better.
Maybe this was only a low-lying virus. Possibly he was struggling with seasonal allergies. Either way, last night Ashley suddenly had to know more about the current risks for people who had spent months sorting through the pile at Ground Zero.
She had long known there was a causal relationship between the toxins at Ground Zero and the undeniable spike in premature deaths among those exposed to them. But she hadn’t googled the situation in a while.
From the room down the hall, Landon’s cough had broken the silence.
And before it stopped, Ashley began the search.
Ground Zero and cancer
Ground Zero and lung disease
Deaths associated with Ground Zero
She found a police memorial site where a number of fallen officers from New York City looked to be in their forties and fifties. Strange, she thought. She hadn’t been looking for a police memorial. So Ashley began to click on the names of the deceased and her blood ran cold. Almost all of them had died the same way.
9/11-related illness.
And so Ashley looked back through the years and what she found horrified her. Twenty-three New York police officers died on 9/11. But since then nearly 250 police officers had died of illnesses connected with 9/11.
Landon, of course, was a firefighter. So that led Ashley to her next search. What about firefighters who worked at Ground Zero? Again the numbers were staggering. Since 9/11, more than two hundred firefighters had died of cancer or other diseases connected to those events.
Then there was the big picture. Ashley had learned last night that more than ten thousand people exposed to toxins around Lower Manhattan after the terrorist attacks had now died of illnesses as a direct result. Recently, the city of New York had opened the Memorial Glade at Ground Zero. A new $5 million walkway to honor first responders who had died since the terrorist attack.
All of which meant one terrifying
thing.
Landon’s cough needed to be checked out.
Ashley had also researched specialists who handled cases related to 9/11 and she’d found a doctor in Lower Manhattan. Then before fear changed her mind, she booked a consultation for early afternoon tomorrow. As soon as they arrived in the city.
Convincing Landon hadn’t been easy. “It’s nothing,” he had told her earlier this morning. “Allergies, my love. Every fall, remember?”
“Sneezing, sure. Itchy eyes.” She had put her hands on his shoulders and looked straight at him. “Your cough is worse, Landon. You need to see someone. Just in case.”
He had finally agreed and now Ashley was consumed with the sickening possibilities. Lord, let it be nothing. Landon is everything to our family… to me. She could see him as clearly as if he were standing in front of her.
Tall, still dark hair. As fit as he’d been in his firefighting days.
Landon was the Bloomington fire chief now. He spent his days at a desk—managing his department and being the liaison for community relations. But back in the day he had been involved in a number of deadly fires—one where he saved the life of a little boy and wound up in the hospital fighting for his own life.
But all that had been only kindling to the toxins he was exposed to at Ground Zero, working fourteen-hour days until he helped find the body of his best friend, Jalen. Ashley tightened her jaw. Let it be a cold, Lord. Heal Landon, please. All day she had silently talked to God, begging him for peace. Remembering words from the Bible to soothe her anxious soul.
Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.
Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things…. And the God of peace will be with you.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…
Over and over and over.
Traffic back to Bloomington was light so Ashley pulled into the Baxter house driveway sooner than she’d expected. Tomorrow at this time not only would they be in New York City, remembering the events of nearly two decades ago. They would have answers about Landon’s health. And as much as Ashley wanted to know, she wasn’t relieved at the thought.
She was scared to death.
5
Annalee sat on a cold metal chair a few feet from an enormous donut-shaped machine. The scan would take place in a few minutes. Until then, the tech had told her to wait. Already she’d been here longer than that. She looked at the flat surface extending into the donut and the panel of instruments beside it and she had just one thought.
She wished Tommy were with her.
Why did he have to wait in the other room? Didn’t the medical people understand how nervous she was, how frightened she felt even doing this? A shiver ran down her arms. She pulled her phone from her purse and texted her mom.
The doctor ordered a scan for me. It was in the same building, so Tommy brought me here. I’m waiting now for the tech so we can get it over with. Do they use a scan to diagnose mono? Honestly, Mom, I’m afraid. Please pray.
Almost as soon as she sent the text, her phone rang. Annalee wasn’t sure if she could be on the phone in this place, but she didn’t care. “Hello?”
“Honey, why didn’t you call me earlier?” Her mother sounded frantic. “I had no idea they’d order a test the same day.”
Annalee closed her eyes. “Me, either.” She sucked in a quick breath and blinked. Don’t panic, she told herself. Stay calm. “The doctor said… it could be mono. He took blood.”
“Okay. Yes…” Her mom released a long breath. “That’s what we’ve been thinking. I had mono when I was in high school. It’s terrible.” She hesitated. “So that must be why they’re doing the scan.” She sounded relieved. “You just need more rest. Like we’ve been saying.”
The doctor had agreed Annalee had all the symptoms of mono. An occasional fever, zero energy and most mornings she woke up with sheets wet from sweating. Night sweats, the doctor called it. Whatever she was dealing with, the tests today would tell the story, and then she could move on to getting better. She cleared her throat. “You’ve heard of that, right? Scans for mono?”
“Yes. I think so.” Her mother’s answer was a little too quick. “They’re probably looking to see if your spleen is enlarged. That’s something they would see on a scan.”
A woman wearing a white coat walked into the room.
“I have to go.” Annalee dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, honey. Your dad and I… we’re coming home tomorrow.”
Annalee set the phone in her purse and lifted her eyes to the woman. “Is it time?”
“Yes. I need you to remove your clothing and jewelry.” She handed Annalee a hospital gown. “And change into this.” The woman smiled, but it didn’t change her serious expression. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
While Annalee did what the woman asked, nausea formed a pit in her stomach. Why am I worried? This couldn’t be anything serious. Her mom’s sister had died on the mission field in Kenya last year. A family could only take so much heartache.
It has to be mono.
The woman returned and helped Annalee onto the flat table. Then she handed her a pair of earplugs. “You’ll want these. The test is loud… it can last as long as an hour depending on what we see.”
She’d never worn earplugs. She took a minute to figure out how to make them work and then Annalee lay flat on her back. Her heart picked up speed and raced against the wall of her chest. The earplugs made the sound louder. Peace, she prayed. Please give me peace, God. Calm me down.
As the table slid into the tube and the test began, Annalee remembered something her father had told her. If you’re stuck in a difficult situation take yourself somewhere else. Remember a happy time or relive some meaningful moment.
With her eyes squeezed shut, Annalee did just that. So she was no longer in a cold tube with loud scary sounds happening around her. She was on her parents’ back porch a week ago telling them about a decision she’d made. A decision about her life.
Her parents had made hot cider. Austin was at football practice so it was just the three of them. Like it was happening again, Annalee could smell the cinnamon from her warm mug and see the looks of anticipation in the faces of her parents.
“God has spoken to you?” Her dad sat opposite her, all of them in rocking chairs.
“He has.” Annalee had never been more sure about a career path. “I know what I want to do.” And then she’d told them. “I want to help trafficked children here in Indianapolis.” Annalee’s heart soared at the possibility. “I’m thinking of developing an app.”
The idea was straightforward. Hotel workers would download the app, which would connect with local law enforcement agencies. If a front desk employee suspected a trafficker was bringing a child into a hotel room, the worker could notify authorities anonymously through the app. If the tip turned into an arrest or a rescue, the hotel worker would receive a reward.
Her mom’s eyes had lit up. “I like it.” She looked at Annalee’s father and then back at Annalee. “Who funds the reward?”
“It would be a charity.” Annalee had tried to think of everything. “People would donate knowing that the reward money would only be given out if police were able to take action.”
They had talked for another half hour about how an app like that could start in Indianapolis and spread to the entire nation or even the world. Her parents agreed that hotel workers were often the last line of defense for trafficked kids. In the United States and even in places like Thailand.
Annalee blinked and the memory disappeared. Shrill beeps and whirring sounds filled the tube—which was four inches from her face. Maybe closer. She tried to take a deep breath but her lungs wouldn’t fill, wouldn’t
expand correctly. Were the walls of the cylinder closing in?
Another memory. That’s what she needed. Again she squeezed her eyes shut and this time a different face filled her mind. The handsome face of Tommy Baxter. He had taken her on a date two weeks ago, before her mom had made today’s doctor appointment. Back when her fatigue wasn’t so draining and she was still sure her tiredness had something to do with the trip overseas. Not this dreaded mono.
She pressed her back against the hard platform. Once more, Annalee could hear Tommy’s voice as they set off that day. He had looked at her from behind the wheel. “You ready for your Super Surprise Saturday?”
A smile had filled her heart. “Super Surprise Saturday?” She’d laughed. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you deserve the world. So this isn’t our average movie night.” Tommy had grinned at her. Then he’d handed her a pink envelope. She could still smell his cologne like he was here with her again. “Open it.”
She had known immediately this was going to be a forever memory with Tommy. Inside the card was a poem.
School has started, senior year.
Summer’s gone no beaches here.
Still I thought I’d take a chance
Take you out and find romance.
First stop on our night of fun
The chicken place, a 2.1.
I love you always, Annalee
P.S.—We don’t have to be in Phuket for you to take my breath away. That doesn’t rhyme… but we do.
Love, Tommy
“Are you serious?” Annalee had closed the card and looked at him. “We’re doing… what… a scavenger hunt?”
“We are.” He had looked so handsome. Crewneck navy sweater and dark jeans. His hair still blond from the summer sun. “I’m at your beck and call, my fair princess. Think about the clues. Where to first?”
“Uhh.” She looked at the card again. “Chick-fil-A?”
“Ding-ding-ding. You got it! That chicken place.” He grinned at her. “Let’s go!”
Truly, Madly, Deeply Page 4
