“A layer of snow over the ice we already have will make everything even more slippery,” Joy agreed.
The women carefully made their way to their cars. They said good night and went their separate ways.
****
At home, Isaac wondered if he’d made a mistake by telling Joy he wouldn’t go with her to the concert. Maybe he’d been dodging relationships for so long, it was a reflex. He remembered telling Joseph that he wouldn’t ask anyone out until he found someone really special. Was Joy that person?
He knew she was. And he’d been serious when he’d said he wouldn’t date her because of what she might suffer at the hands of the gossips. But lately, Joy had been different, braver. Maybe it was time to lay down his defenses.
The next morning, Isaac decided to ask Joy if her offer to go to the concert was still open. He got to work early and then waited impatiently for her to arrive. The time for her to start work came and went and there was no sign of Joy.
He wondered if she was upset with him because he’d refused her offer. Would she skip work because of that?
That simply wasn’t acceptable, Isaac decided, picking up the phone. He let it ring about fifteen times and finally hung up. Maybe she was on her way. Another fifteen minutes passed, and still she hadn’t come in.
He heard the door to the outer office open and was up out of his seat before he even thought about it. It wasn’t Joy, however.
“Good morning, Angel. Can I help you?”
“No,” she replied. “I’m looking for Joy. I wanted to give her these.” Angel held out a plate of cookies.
“She’s not here,” grumbled Isaac. “She’s late, obviously.”
“That’s too bad. I wanted to thank her.”
“Thank her for what?”
“She gave me a pair of tickets for a concert in Green Bay. Jeff and I wanted to go, but it’s sold out. When I told Joy, she pulled out a pair of tickets, and said she couldn’t go so we should use them.”
“When did she do that?”
“We went out for coffee last night after choir practice.”
Isaac considered this information. Joy was a sensitive person. If she’d really been upset by his refusal, he doubted she’d have made it through practice. She certainly wouldn’t have gone out afterward. “She didn’t say anything about me, did she?” The words came out before he thought what he was saying.
Angel looked puzzled. “No, we didn’t talk about you at all.”
It didn’t seem as if she were mad at him. So where was Joy? “I’ll just give her a call,” Isaac said. “See what the problem is.”
He let the phone ring at least twenty times before hanging up. “I think I’ll stop by and see what’s keeping her.” He tried to keep his voice light, but the smallest bit of worry had squeezed its way in.
“Do you mind if I come along?”
****
For all her insistence that she wouldn’t let Isaac’s refusal bother her, Joy was upset. She’d managed to push it to the back of her mind for the evening, which she supposed was proof that she was getting a handle on her anxiety. But once at home alone, the memory returned, along with her old friends, doubt and self-loathing. It made for a long night. She finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning.
When she opened her eyes again, it was day. Joy turned her head and looked at the clock. Shocked, she sat up with a jerk. She was late for work.
Joy threw off her covers and went about her morning routine double time. She could skip her own breakfast, but one thing she wouldn’t do, was leave without feeding her birds.
Hurriedly Joy bundled up and went outside to fill the feeders. In her haste, she wasn’t as careful as she usually was, ignoring the treacherous layer of ice lurking just beneath the snow. She’d filled most of the feeders before she hit a particularly bad spot. Her foot slid, her knee twisted, and she came down hard, striking her head against a concrete planter.
****
Something was tickling her just below her chin. She should move away, Joy knew, but for some reason her whole body ached. The tickling sensation increased and finally she had to shake her head. The whir of wings brought her back, even while the motion of her head made her stomach turn.
A chickadee must have burrowed into her scarf, hoping to keep warm. She shooed away another one who was cuddling next to her cheek and then lay still for a few moments, trying to piece together what had happened.
Joy tried to sit up and was forced to sink back as spots danced in front of eyes and her stomach gave her a serious warning. But she couldn’t lay here in the snow. She’d freeze.
Slowly, and with much protest from her sore body, Joy sat up, using the planter she’d hit her head on for support. When her head stopped spinning, she decided to attempt standing up.
This was a mistake. Not only did the spots come back, but her right knee gave out as soon as she tried to put weight on it. With a cry, Joy fell back into a heap in the snow.
She tried to flex her knee. It felt swollen and stiff and painful. Great.
Joy hooked one gloved hand onto the side of the planter, pulled herself back into a sitting position and waited for her head to clear.
With horror, she noticed a smudge of red on the planter where she’d hit her head. Blood. Slowly turning her head, she saw more blood in the snow where she’d lain. This was not good. It was really, really not good.
No wonder her head hurt. She decided not to take off her gloves so she could explore the damage to her head. Getting inside was more important. Plus, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know yet.
If she couldn’t stand, she couldn’t walk. Unfortunately, the only way to get back to the house was to scoot like a three-legged crab up the path. One good thing about being alone, she thought: no one to see this.
Her progress was slow. If she moved too swiftly, her head swam, and her stomach heaved. Soon she was shivering so hard it was even difficult to scoot along the path.
Finally, she made it to the house and scooted up the steps and into the entryway. A few more feet, and she was in the kitchen where it was warm. Not that she could feel it yet.
Sitting on the floor, Joy attempted to get her outer clothes off. The snow that had accumulated was melting, dripping into puddles around her. Her fingers were stiff and uncooperative.
First, she pried off her gloves. Maybe she wouldn’t be so clumsy then. Next she pushed off her stocking cap. Part of it was matted to her hair with dried blood, and she had to pull it free. Not wanting to look at it, Joy tossed the hat away from her. Then she started to unzip her coat.
As the heat penetrated her skin, sensation returned. And the initial sensation was pain—sharp, shooting, burning pain in her hands. She’d suffered in silence so far, but with this new development, Joy couldn’t hold in her cries.
She leaned back against the kitchen island and sent up a prayer. This was one situation she didn’t think she could handle by herself.
****
Angel and Isaac stood outside Joy’s front door. He put his hand out and rang the bell again. “Where is she?”
“Is it locked? Maybe we should just go in,” suggested Angel.
It was locked. “Let’s go around to the back.”
They tromped through a foot of snow to get to the back door. Angel stopped when she saw all the birds and bird feeders. “This is amazing.”
Isaac spotted the pail of birdseed left under one of the feeders. Joy must have been out here this morning. He didn’t stop to look at anything more. “Be careful, the walk is slippery,” he warned Angel before climbing the steps to the back door.
As soon as he stepped into the entryway, he heard the small whimpers of pain. He didn’t stop, but moved through to the kitchen.
The bottom dropped out of Isaac’s stomach the moment he saw Joy. She was as pale as the linoleum she sat on, her hazel eyes brimming with tears. She held her hands clutched to her chest.
Isaac dropped to his knees next to Joy. He heard An
gel come in and gasp. He felt her move past him, but all his attention was focused on Joy.
“What happened?”
“I fell on the ice.”
As he moved closer to her Isaac noticed the blood in her hair. “Did you hit your head? Did you pass out?”
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“My knee. I can’t stand.”
Angel came back with a quilt. “Help her out of her coat. We have to get her warm.”
As he pulled the coat from her, Isaac told Angel, “She needs a doctor. I’m taking her to the hospital.”
Angel nodded, wrapping the quilt around Joy. “I’ll get some of her things together and then follow you.”
“But your car is at the church.”
“I’ll call Jeff. I’m sure he’ll pick me up.”
Isaac didn’t wait for her to check with Jeff before lifting Joy up and carrying her out to the car. Angel went ahead so she could open the doors for him.
“Call the hospital and tell them we’re coming.” He set Joy in the front seat and buckled her in. He took a moment to study her. He didn’t like the glassy look that had crept into her eyes. He shook her gently. “Joy.”
She blinked. “What?” Her voice sounded smaller and softer than he’d ever heard it before.
“Stay with me, all right. Don’t fall asleep.”
“I’ll try.”
But in the short time it took for him to come around to the driver’s side and slide into his seat, Joy’s eyelids had started to close.
He took her cold hand in his. “Joy, wake up.”
“I’m sorry.” Her words came out slow and sounding slurred.
“Sing for me, Joy, please.”
“Not now, Isaac.”
“Yes, now. I’ll sing with you. How about ‘Jingle Bells?’”
It was definitely not her best performance, but Isaac managed to keep her singing and awake until they reached Orchard Hill’s small hospital. Angel must have remembered to call because there was an orderly ready with a wheelchair when he pulled up. He’d never felt more helpless in his life as he did standing in the waiting room, watching Joy be wheeled away from him.
He’d done a fair amount of waiting room vigils, but never like this. Before, it was always someone else’s loved one that he waited for news about. Usually he was with someone and was busy offering comfort and support.
But this time he was alone, and he was the one in need of support. Isaac was seeing things from an entirely different perspective.
And the worst part, he grimly acknowledged, was that as far as the world was concerned, Joy was nothing to him. She was a member of his congregation and of the church staff. Right now that seemed like a pretty insignificant way to describe his connection to her.
He’d always prided himself on his strength in tough situations and on his willingness to trust the Lord no matter what. Now he knew those attributes had never really been tested.
Joseph found him. It seemed a strange sort of reunion. He’d sat in waiting rooms with Joseph before, when his wife was at the end of her life, losing her battle with breast cancer. Although he knew that Joy’s prospects were not so dim, Isaac couldn’t help feeling that their roles had been suddenly reversed. Had he had that pitying look on his face when he sat with Joseph? Isaac sincerely hoped not.
“How did you know I was here?”
“It’s a small town. When I heard about Joy, I knew you’d be here.”
“You’re the only one that would draw that conclusion. Except for Shaun, maybe.”
“That’s the way you wanted it, Isaac.”
“I know. I’m just coming to the realization that I’m an idiot. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I tried,” Joseph said. “You know she’s going to be all right, don’t you?”
“I know. It’s just…the way she looked…the pain in her eyes…the blood.”
“Back up. Tell me what happened. I didn’t get any details.”
Isaac went over everything with him. “I keep thinking about what might have happened if I hadn’t decided to go looking for her. And wondering why I didn’t go sooner.”
“You know you’d tell anyone else not to blame themselves.”
“Yeah, well, I’m discovering it’s a lot easier to give that advice than to take it.”
Joseph turned away, but not before Isaac noticed the smile he was trying to hide. “What’s that look all about?” Isaac demanded.
“I’m not happy that this happened,” he told him. “But it is just a little funny to see you in this position.”
“Thanks a lot,” Isaac huffed and slouched down in his chair.
“You always seemed to have all the answers. It’s good to see you acting sort of human.”
Isaac snorted. “’Sort of human.’ Again, thanks.”
“Even if you are the pastor, it’s OK for us to see that side of you.”
Isaac mulled over that statement while they waited. Did he try to project some unrealistic image of perfection to his congregation?
On the other hand, wasn’t a pastor supposed to be a model for his flock? A person couldn’t be both weak and strong at the same time, could they?
Was that the real reason he’d refrained from dating for so long? Because relationships were unpredictable and emotional, and if you messed up…
It looked bad. Had he really been protecting Joy? Or himself?
“I should have said ‘yes.’ I should have taken her to that concert.”
“Excuse me?” said Joseph. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind. Would you wait for the doctor? I want to visit the chapel. Come and get me if you hear anything.”
“I will,” Joseph promised.
The chapel was quiet and peaceful. Thankful, Isaac sunk into one of the chairs that were placed in rows before a simple altar. He let the peace flow into him before bowing his head to pray. He needed to have a long talk with his Father.
****
Joy was in the hospital for a long couple of days. When the doctor heard that she would be alone at home, he refused to release her until he was sure she could function on her own.
The days were a blur for Joy. The first night, she’d been woken frequently due to the fear that the concussion would send her into a coma. Once they decided it was safe to let her sleep, she was out all of the second day and night. She woke on Saturday morning, feeling somewhat better, but a little fuzzy on all that had happened.
Joy lay still—less pain that way—and tried to put the fragments she remembered into order. She knew she’d fallen. She remembered the doctor explaining that she had a concussion and mild hypothermia and a sprained knee.
What had happened between the fall and the hospital? How had she gotten here? She allowed her mind to drift, as trying to force the memories back seemed to send them scudding out of her reach. For some reason “Jingle Bells” kept running through her mind. How weird.
Joy opened her eyes and looked around. Cautiously she turned her head, relieved to feel minimal pain, and saw Misty Green sitting by her bedside.
Maybe she was still dreaming because Misty seemed to be surrounded by a bank of flowers and balloons. When she saw that Joy was awake, Misty smiled. “How are you feeling, hon?”
“I’m all right.” Her voice sounded scratchy and rough to her ears.
“How about some water?” Misty poured her a cup of water from a pitcher by her bedside and Joy gratefully accepted it.
“Where did all the flowers come from?” she asked after she’d taken a drink.
“Oh, from lots of people. Let me see.” Misty pointed to the largest arrangement. “The choir went in together on this one. The roses are from Angel and Jeff. The balloons are from the Sunday School. They’ll miss your playing at their program tomorrow. This plant is from Grace and Riley. Grace put in a gift certificate for her shop, too.”
Joy interrupted Misty’s explanation. “Do I have a roommate?”
<
br /> “Why no, sweetie. You’ve got the room all to yourself.”
“Then…are those all for me?” There must be some mistake. She knew she didn’t have that many friends.
“Of course. This one here is from your housekeeper and her family. When she couldn’t reach you, she called the church. Isaac had a terrible time convincing her she didn’t have to come right back.”
The thought of Rosie brought tears to Joy’s eyes. She almost wished Isaac hadn’t talked her out of coming back. But then again, she didn’t want her friend to miss time with her family.
Orchard Hill Volume Three Page 24
