by Julie Allan
“Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George gave me such a great childhood. To me, it was just the way it was.” Lizzie was uncomfortable wading into this conversation. She did not discuss her parents very often, and when she did, she was always surprised at the range of emotions that still surfaced—mostly the guilt for being happy with Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George.
She thought about her parents often. Every time she put on a piece of her mother’s jewelry, she felt connected to her. She imagined her father would have been pleased that his grandson was named with his surname. If Aunt Dorothy and Uncle George had not legally had Lizzie’s last name changed to Long, she would have been Lizzie Sawyer.
She wrapped her arm around Dot. “You do know these are entirely different circumstances? My parents were killed in a car accident when I was small, and like I already said, I am pretty sure we do not have to worry about your father dying from this.”
“How can you be sure?” Dot persisted. Lizzie looked out across the water to see the last line of pink sink below where the land, water, and sky met. “Dot, there are two things I want you to hear me saying. First, there are no guarantees, but there is plenty of data to show the probability of a good outcome is likely. Second, what we can count on is the faith that we will be alright no matter what. We have love, and that is everything.”
Dot sat in silence and Lizzie let what she had said sink in. She knew Dot would need more than a few words of reassurance to accept what was happening and think positively. “Thanks, Mama. Do you think supper is ready? I'm hungry.”
“Let's go and find out,” Lizzie stood and held out her hand to pull Dot up with her. She was not surprised that Dot was tabling the discussion by pretending it was no more important than discussing homework. “Dot . . .”
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Any time you want to talk about this or anything else, know I will listen and help you the best I can.” Lizzie squeezed Dot’s hand. Dot squeezed back, unable to say anything. Lizzie’s heart filled. She was glad that Dot was not pushing her away. The two walked arm and arm, back to the house.
After dinner, Lizzie convinced Amy she didn't need any assistance with the cleanup and sent her and Scott off to take Mr. and Mrs. Wilson home. Bennett took on the weeknight homework review with the kids and answered their questions as best he could.
Lizzie stood at the sink, finishing up the dishes. She scrubbed an already clean sauté pan as the turmoil inside her raged. She was worn to a fragile state from keeping her fears buried under her ‘all is calm’ façade. Aunt Dorothy came up behind her and gave her a hug. Lizzie began to shake with silent sobs, the thin veneer she was hiding behind cracking and her vulnerability spilling out. She allowed herself to be comforted by the arms that had held her over everything from skinned knees to a broken heart.
The two sat down at the kitchen table like countless times before. Thank goodness, they had moved in with her. Lizzie was grateful to have Aunt Dorothy and her unwavering faith and practicality. She knew Aunt Dorothy would help her to stay grounded and keep her from going down the rabbit hole of doom and gloom. Lizzie hoped she would be able to do the same for Dot.
“Child, I know how your mind works. But I want you to hear me. As I have said to you before, you are stronger than you think. The time ahead will be trying at best, and you are not in this alone,” Aunt Dorothy said, her eyes misting with tears. “Why, just in our family alone we have an army of supporters. But in this circumstance you must take the lead—your children depend on it, Bennett is counting on it. So, when you feel yourself coming undone, come to me, or seek out some quiet time and have a good cry. Then fix your face, and face the world with all the grace you can muster,” lectured Aunt Dorothy with a gentle but determined sermonette.
“If only I could be more like you,” Lizzie lamented. “You always have it together.”
“Oh, child, I may have done you a real disservice. You think I have always had it together, but I used to unburden my thoughts with dear Marie. Oh, how I miss her and Tommy!” Aunt Dorothy said, grief over the loss of her dear friends, the Lee’s still fresh on her heart. “I miss them, too,” Lizzie said. She flashed to their wedding just the year before hers. The fact that they found their way back together in their golden years had pushed Lizzie and Bennett to rekindle their lost love. “Their love story was truly inspiring for both Bennett and me.”
“I’m sorry if you thought I never had any doubts or worries; I have! But, I have always believed wallowing solves nothing. You have to tackle your troubles head-on. Trust your heart and be practical about things.” Aunt Dorothy patted Lizzie on the arm. The warmth of her hand and the stability of the old wooden table that had been witness to so many heart-to-hearts filled Lizzie with renewed strength.
“I am so grateful we are under this roof together. I know I can handle this.” Lizzie hoped that if saying it aloud, it would somehow make it true.
Inside she was filled with doubt that she would be able to handle what was to come. In her heart of hearts, she knew she had to find the way. Dot and Sawyer deserved no less from her, and Bennett, her heart beat in tandem with his. She felt that now familiar icy fear grip her, but she forced herself to concentrate on the warmth of Aunt Dorothy’s hand and let the love from her and this home, envelope her. This love would be her armor for the battle ahead.
Chapter 7
Lizzie sat still, sipping warm Earl Grey tea. The citrus notes delighted her nose, and the velvet finish soothed her throat. The last few days had been a complete whirlwind, trying to get organized for Bennett's surgery. She left him to do homework check and bedtime rituals with the kids and was enjoying the sanctuary of the sitting area they had set up in Aunt Dorothy's bedroom. Aunt Dorothy had the idea, so that when she wanted some time away from Lizzie, Bennett, and the kids, she had a warm and welcoming space. She sat in the chair next to Lizzie, her legs up on the ottoman, sipping her tea.
Lizzie studied the beautiful pattern of birds and flowers that adorned her cup, then set it back in its saucer. "So tomorrow, Bennett and I will leave around four-thirty. We need to be checked in around five-fifteen. I have lunches packed and in the fridge.”
She picked up the cup again, then set it directly back down. Lizzie got up and walked to the window and stared out into the darkness. She turned back towards Aunt Dorothy. “Are you sure you want to get up to get the kids off to school? Amy said she would be glad to come over."
"I have my alarm set. Besides, it will make me feel like I am doing something useful. Sometimes I think the worst part of getting older is suddenly people think you can't help anymore." Aunt Dorothy scrunched up her forehead in a scowl and a feisty fire burned in her eyes.
"I know you are very helpful! In fact, I would go as far to say, I couldn’t handle life without you!" Lizzie boldly met Aunt Dorothy’s gaze. “Now, Sawyer will ride his bike home straight after school, and he needs to do his homework right after his snack. Faith will pick him up at five-thirty to get him to karate, and she will have him back again by seven-thirty. Thank goodness Dot decided to give up the dance class—one less thing to schedule. She will ride the bus home and don't let her put off her homework either." Lizzie rattled on. Focusing on the routine things was easier.
"Child, you need to relax, you have gone over this with me twice already today. Everything is going to be fine; you do not need to micromanage it all." Lizzie took another deep sip of her tea, electing to ignore Aunt Dorothy’s comment.
“Are you sure you want the children to go to school?” Aunt Dorothy asked.
“Yes, both of them said they want to. Besides, keeping their routine as close to normal will make this seem not a big deal.”
“I’m sure you’re right about that. You probably won’t remember this, but when your parents died, you were quite upset when we did not let you go to kindergarten that next week.”
“I don’t remember that, but that sounds like me, I loved school, and I loved routine; I still do!” She could see her kindergarten teacher
in her mind, but she could not recall her parents’ funeral. “I will call you, of course, as soon as we know anything. I have a bag packed with plenty to keep me busy. I think I’ll be home quite late tomorrow night. I am not leaving until they kick me out."
After they had said good night, Lizzie went upstairs and checked the bags again to make sure they had all she and Bennett might need. She set the alarm for three-thirty. She wanted to take a shower and fix her face and hair in the morning so she would look extra pretty for Bennett. Lizzie had already laid out a pair of jeans and a green silk shirt she knew he liked to see her in. Bennett finally coaxed her into bed, and they lay in each other’s arms for hours, pretending to sleep. Lizzie seemed to have just drifted off when the alarm went off.
Before she knew it, they were checking in and getting arm-banded. Bennett changed into the dreaded hospital gown, and they began to attach monitoring wires to him. A nurse put an IV line in his arm. The tubing and wires seemed like a barrier between them as if the hospital was already taking him away from her. She pushed down her fear.
“Well, fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said.
“M.A.!” Bennett and Lizzie exclaimed in unison.
“Why didn't you tell me you were going to be in on Bennett's surgery?” Lizzie asked.
“I didn't know which case I would be assigned to until I came in this morning.”
“Well, I am very relieved to know we have you in there,” Lizzie said. "No offense, Dr. Roberts." She said turning to the surgeon who had just entered the room.
“None taken,” Dr. Roberts smiled at her. “I would say Nurse Hutto here is one of the finest OR nurses on our staff. I have had the privilege of having her on our team for over fifteen years now.”
“Thank you, Dr. Roberts,” M.A. said.
“M.A. has already told us we had the best surgeon in the business,” Bennett said.
“Feeling good this morning?” Dr. Roberts asked.
Bennett nodded.
“Now, what we are going to do today should take us a couple of hours. Lizzie, I will have one of the residents come out and update you on the progress. Once we have Bennett settled in recovery, we will let you back to see him. Then, after a bit, we will get him up to his room,” Dr. Roberts explained.
Lizzie nodded, feeling the cold edge of fear try to grip at her heart as she forced herself to push it away.
“Alright, I will see you in there, Bennett. These nice people will finish your prep and begin your happy juice,” Dr. Roberts said, then left the room trailed by two residents and an intern.
“Lizzie, I am afraid this is where you will have to head out to the waiting area,” M.A. told her.
“Okay,” Lizzie said, giving M.A. a hug. She leaned down and kissed Bennett. She whispered in his ear, “I love you.”
“I love you too. See you in a little bit,” Bennett whispered back. His eyes filled with the love and encouragement she would hold onto until she saw them again.
Back in the waiting room, Lizzie prayed and paced. It seemed like every time she looked at the clock, barely five minutes had passed. She was grateful when Amy showed up with a vanilla latte, although she barely tasted it. Her mouth felt dry, and her palms were sweaty. When the resident came out with the first update, she felt her heart drop into her stomach. Bennett had handled the anesthesia very well, and they had made good progress reaching the tumor site. The resident said she would be back in about an hour with another update. Lizzie allowed herself to relax a bit.
“Things seem to be going very well,” Amy said.
“Yes, good news so far,” Lizzie answered. “I'll update Aunt Dorothy. Do you mind calling your parents?”
“I'd be glad to. I promised the kids and Scott I would text them as well.”
The waiting room felt like a place caught between time. The families sitting there were in a sort of stasis as time trudged by at a glacial pace. Determined to get a handle on the agony that was tearing her soul, Lizzie distracted herself by watching the hushed groups around her. Occasionally, a doctor would come to speak to a group and, shortly after, there would be a visible relaxing, some smiles and they would gather their things and depart. Twice, she witnessed what they all dreaded; the doctor speaking in low, hushed tones, the stunned looks on faces, the cries and tears of sorrow. She found herself saying prayers for the people around her, prayers of thanks for the good news, and prayers for strength for the bad news. Feeling herself grow stronger the more she did this.
Amy sat quietly by her side, for which Lizzie was grateful. Amy knew her well enough to know conversation would make her edgy. Amy worked steadily on a needlepoint scene of a sweetgrass basket artist hawking her wares on a downtown Charleston street corner. Lizzie sat silently with her thoughts, not bothering with the pretense of reading.
They both looked up when they saw the same resident approach. The time that had seemed to crawl, suddenly came to a complete stop. Lizzie was not even sure she was still breathing. The resident smiled, and Lizzie knew it would be more good news and she audibly exhaled.
The team had gotten the tumor with good margins. Things were a bit ahead of schedule, and they expected to move Bennett to recovery in about thirty minutes. “Dr. Roberts will come out around then and go over things with you again.” She left Lizzie and Amy smiling, eager to be released from this purgatory of time they had been caught in.
Once Bennett was settled into recovery, Amy left, and Lizzie headed back to the recovery area to see him briefly. Her heart fluttered with love, and she let herself relax a bit. This first big hurdle was now over. She gently sat in the chair next to his bed and examined him carefully. His wasted-on-a-boy lashes rested on his cheeks, and he looked peaceful. Something was dripping from an IV pole. She assumed it was a lovely cocktail of pain meds. She looked down at his hand lying by his side. She gingerly laid her hand on his and was startled when he grabbed hold of it and squeezed. Lizzie looked up to see those green-blue eyes that felt like home gazing over at her.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Bennett slurred with his I’ve got a buzz smile.
“Hello, my love, you look mighty well for someone who just went through surgery.”
"It was easy as pie; I told you not to worry."
The nurse came in to take some vitals and gave Lizzie the room number where they would soon be transporting Bennett, recommending that she be there to greet him on arrival. Lizzie reluctantly gave Bennett's hand a squeeze and told him she would meet him there.
Several hours later, Bennett was sitting up, eating from a gelatin cup. The nurses on the floor were convinced they could get him on his feet to take a spin around the halls later in the afternoon. Lizzie was a bit more doubtful, but she knew from her talks with M.A. that getting him up and moving as quickly as possible was vital to helping him heal and decrease post-surgical complications. She had called Aunt Dorothy again and was so glad there would be good news to tell Dot and Sawyer when they came home from school.
Bennett had pleased the nurses, insisting on a second lap around the ward, and Lizzie was amazed to witness his stamina. She was just settling him back into the bed when M.A. popped in. “So how’s the VIP patient?” she asked.
“In tip-top shape,” Bennett replied. “Thank you for your work today. It was reassuring to both Lizzie and me to know you were there.”
“Aw, just all in a day's work! I’m getting ready to head out. Do either of you need anything?”
“I can't think of anything right now. Are you working tomorrow?” Lizzie asked.
“No, but I can come down here if you want me to,” M.A. answered.
“Actually, we were told if Bennett checks out well enough tomorrow, they’re going to let us go home in the early afternoon. I was wondering if you could come by the house.”
“Sure! Why don't you text me when you’re getting ready to leave here and I will help you get Bennett settled.”
Lizzie hugged M.A. tight. “I am so grateful.”
“See y'all tomorrow
then, and Lizzie . . . You go home soon; you need some rest. Nurse's orders!” M.A. squeezed Lizzie back.
True to her word, she stayed until the nurses kicked her out. Lizzie had been in the hospital for sixteen hours and the frosty November night air was a refreshing assault as she stepped through the sliding doors heading to the parking garage. It was a weeknight, so traffic was fairly light and she easily crossed downtown and was cruising over the Ravenel Bridge to Mount Pleasant in under ten minutes. She pulled into the driveway, glad that Aunt Dorothy had thought to leave the porch light on for her.
This house was so much more than a shelter, she reflected, gazing out from the front seat of her car. It had born witness to all the good things that had ever happened in her life. She drew strength from this place. She sat still for a moment, a wave of fatigue suddenly washing over her. Was it that I'm finally in a truly peaceful moment or that, in this place, I'm safe to let my guard down? She thought it was a bit of both. She slowly got out of the car and Aunt Dorothy opened the door, the warm glow from the hall beckoning her in.
Aunt Dorothy had offered to fix ice cream, but Lizzie was so tired, she was not even hungry. She told her she wanted a shower and would then come down and visit. Aunt Dorothy headed to her bed to read until Lizzie came back.
Lizzie climbed the stairs, suddenly finding herself outside Dot's door. She carefully turned the knob and quietly made her way to Dot's bed. Sleeping, Dot still looked like the sweet little girl Lizzie had been tucking into bed for years, until this past spring when Dot had decided it was too childish to get tucked in. She gently pushed a stray hair away from Dot's face and leaned down to give a butterfly kiss on her forehead. Dot stirred, “Mama,” she whispered. Then in a panic she bolted straight up, “Daddy?” she urgently asked.
“Shhh . . . I'm sorry I woke you. Your Daddy is just fine; he will probably be home by the time you get back from school tomorrow,” Lizzie soothed.
