A Time to Surrender

by Sally John

  “Like the second time I met Rosie. You were in the hospital because of what she had done to you and there I was, sitting at her father’s restaurant, waiting to meet her. I was curious what kind of woman could do a thing like that. Lexi had told me she was special, though, in a good way. But naturally I harbored some ill will toward her. I mean, after all, she did shoot you.

  “Then she walked up. She didn’t look anything like a cop in her flouncy blouse and skirt. And, oh! Her expression was pure anguish. The first thing she said was how sorry she was. Her only concern was for your well-being. What could I do but hug her? Now I love her like a daughter.”

  She paused, overcome with a sense of motherhood. It was a dance of complex steps, but there was a rhythm to it, a consistent beat. It must have begun with her first pregnancy: Hold them close, let them go. Hold them close, let them go. Shelter them in the womb, present them to the world.

  Now others had joined in the dance. Claire stubbed her toe time and again following the unfamiliar steps. Is Kevin the right one for Jenna? Rosie’s world can never mesh with Erik’s. Nathan better not hurt Lexi. Skylar can’t possibly be Danny’s match.

  But her mama’s heart stretched and they all fit into place. Her feet learned the new pattern.

  She said, “I love Skylar like a daughter too. I love Kevin like a son. Nathan is taking up residence in my heart right next to him. With my own four in there, it’s getting to be a crowded place. My prayers grow longer. Every single day I have to let each and every one of you go. ‘Lord, they’re Yours.’ This letting-go business is harder than I ever imagined. Good grief, if I had grandkids, I’d never get off my knees.”

  The room came back into focus. She didn’t know what she’d been facing as she talked but now she searched Erik’s eyes. “But this video is about Rosie. Well, all I have to say is, Erik, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. If you don’t marry her, that would be really dumb.” She exhaled. “Now, if I may be excused, I’m going to take a long, hot bath and a longer nap. Was that MIT?”

  “MIT?”

  “You know, too much information?”

  He gave her a slow smile. “No. Not TMI at all, Mom.” He pushed a button on the camera. “And that’s a wrap.”

  Claire only hoped the day was a wrap.

  And it wasn’t even noon.

  Sixty-four

  Déjà vu.

  It was all Jenna could think. She had already lived the scene two months before. Why was she in it again?

  There was that all-encompassing aura of hospital. Antiseptic odors. Soft beeps and hisses. The squish of rubber soles against linoleum. Harsh lights. Muted voices.

  ICU.

  There were differences, though.

  Kevin waited on the other side of those doors, not Amber.

  Jenna was family, no fudge factor necessary.

  Danny sat beside her, not her parents.

  Outside the walls lay Germany, not her hometown. She’d never visited the country, had never intended to. The November day was frigid and overcast.

  The nurse Sammie said, “You don’t know yet?” She wore her black hair in a tight bun. Compassion poured from eyes of liquid gold. Her posture had military written all over it. Insignia lined her blouse.

  Jenna shook her head. No, they didn’t know any details about Kevin yet except that he was alive and on the other side of those doors.

  Danny said, “We feel like we’ve been given the runaround.”

  “I’m sorry. It can seem like that at times. Overall, your husband is doing very well. I talked with him, and his attitude is fantastic. He wanted to stay awake until you got here, but the pain got pretty intense, so we upped his medication.”

  A shudder went through Jenna. Kevin didn’t do meds. For him there was no such thing as intense pain.

  Sammie said, “He’s heavily sedated at the moment, but you’ll be talking to him in no time. Technically, he’s in stable condition, but we want to keep a close eye on him tonight. His trip here on top of everything . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Jenna leaned against Danny. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Gone was the Tigger-like kid of their youth. He was a solid rock for her, guiding them steadily through a maze of airports, planes, a strange city, a military base . . . It seemed that with each passing mile they had both matured.

  Danny said, “Technically, what exactly is ‘everything’?”

  Sammie took a breath. “Kevin lost a leg in the blast.”

  A whimper sounded from Jenna’s inmost being.

  The nurse went on. “The left one. It was severed at the time of impact just below the knee. The doctors in Baghdad amputated at midthigh. Mrs. Mason, he will walk again with a prosthetic. He will run and play ball and do everything again.”

  The woman faded from view as images of her big, strong, muscular, athletic Kevin filled her mind, a gangly piece of plastic hanging from his thigh. How could he ever do the same things? Be the same man?

  Danny said, “What are his other injuries?”

  Other? Dear God.

  Sammie said, “There was no trauma to the brain, which is a major blessing. His left side received shrapnel. His arm sustained third-degree burns. These are all wounds that will heal.”

  Jenna moaned. “His left arm?”

  “Yes.”

  “His tattoos.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “His tattoos. Are they still there?”

  “I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I haven’t seen beneath the dressing.”

  She cried softly. Kevin loved his tats. The USMC one had already been in place when she first met him. A more recent, small one engraved near it was in memory of a young man killed in the war. She had fussed like a crazed woman over its addition.

  Danny said to the nurse, “What about his back?” He stretched an arm to the back of his shoulder. “His shoulders. Any injuries there?”

  “No.”

  Danny laid his chin atop Jenna’s head. “Then he’s still got the one, Jen,” he whispered. “The one he would say is the most important.”

  Danny referred to the “JEN” across Kevin’s shoulders in large calligraphy. When Kevin had it done without her knowledge, they had argued hotly over it . . . over the definition of art . . . over the expression of love.

  What a stupid thing to argue about. What an idiotic thing to harbor ill will toward.

  She sobbed.

  The nurse led them into Kevin’s room.

  Jenna held tightly to Danny’s hand and entered.

  Tubes. Wires. Bags. Monitors. Machines. Hissing. Beeping.

  She was on Kevin’s right side. She moved nearer the bed, Danny next to her, their hands entwined.

  Kevin’s body dwarfed the bed. His arms lay atop a white blanket, the left wrapped, the right with IV tubes taped into place. A short-sleeved hospital gown covered his neck and chest.

  He wore his troubled expression, the space between his brows creased into a vertical line. He’d had a haircut recently. The buzzed blond hair was nearly invisible. It was evident in his face that he had lost weight. His skin was dark and shiny against the white pillow cover.

  How had he described the desert conditions? “It’s a freaking spa here, Jen,” he wrote once in an e-mail. “You’re going to love my new look—120 degrees and sandblasting wind have done wonders. Got a tan to die for, no trace of love handles, and the free microdermabrasion treatments are bee-utifying my complexion.” She still remembered the smiley faces he’d added.

  She studied his form outlined under the blanket. Chest, torso . . . right thigh, right knee, right calf, right foot. A thick bulge on his left side.

  Jenna let go of Danny’s hand and walked around the bed.

  She touched the emptiness below Kevin’s left thigh. She bent over and pressed her lips to what remained of his leg, hoping the kiss would penetrate through the hard cast. “Love you, Kev,” she whispered.

  She walked back around to his other side and touched the bed. The narrow la
ne between him and the edge would be enough. She turned halfway and scooted her hip onto it.

  “Ma’am—”

  “I’m lying down with my husband.”

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t—”

  “I am lying down with my husband.”

  Danny said, “Nurse, please?” His face was wet with tears. “For a moment?”

  Jenna stopped listening. She climbed onto the bed, careful of the tubes in his arm. She settled on her side against him, tucking one arm beneath herself, carefully laying the other across his stomach.

  Someone stood behind her, steady against her back. It would be Danny, propping her up, keeping her from falling.

  She whispered, “I’m here, Kevin. We’re going to be all right. We’re going to be just fine.”

  She continued to talk, telling him about the trip with Danny, about the whole family, about Skylar, about Miranda and the other wives. She teased him about wanting a medal, about the idiotic way he chose to get an early out.

  He could hear her, she knew.

  She would keep on talking until she saw his gorgeous sky-at-dusk blue eyes twinkle at her . . . until she heard him call her “pretty lady.”

  Sixty-five

  Danny’s head ached but if he unclenched his jaw, the weeping would start and progress quickly to wailing. Totally undudelike.

  He blamed the doctor seated across the table from him and Jenna. A little less compassion from the MD would have helped. But no. The guy swam in an ocean of it, riding its wave on into the room where they had met him a few minutes before.

  Dr. Adams removed his black-rimmed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked again at them, his eyes glistened. “The good news is you’ve already heard the bad news. From here on out it’ll be only hopeful or challenging news. I can already tell that Kevin is totally on board with this way of thinking.”

  Jenna nodded. His sister vacillated between catatonic responses and a take-charge demeanor. Every last vestige of a whiny princess had been blasted from her attitude.

  Adams said, “He’s not going to sit around feeling sorry for himself. His main concern is you, Mrs. Mason.”

  “Me?”

  “He asked me to pray for you to have the strength to hang in there.”

  Danny watched thoughts parade across Jenna’s face as clearly as if she spoke them. Any caring person would not want to see his loved ones suffer over his distress, but Kevin’s concern stemmed from his wife’s “princess” status. He not only teased her over it, he often encouraged it in the way he catered to her.

  Jenna’s face relaxed. She flashed a smile. “Ooh-rah.”

  Dr. Adams grinned. “Ooh-rah.” His expression softened again beneath a halo of neatly trimmed silver hair. “You can take him home soon, perhaps by Saturday. We want to wean him off the IV drugs. I’m guessing his pain tolerance level is high. We also have to wait for the swelling to go down in the residual limb.”

  Danny mentally translated that reference to mean what was left of Kevin’s leg. He wondered if this was hopeful or challenging news.

  “Home?” Jenna said.

  “Home to the States, to San Diego.”

  “To the Wounded Warrior facility.”

  He nodded. “He’s part of the C5 program.”

  Danny shut his eyes briefly. Hopeful or challenging news? Kevin had visited the facility, had met amputees during their rehab. Now he’d be one of them.

  The doctor said, “They have state-of-the art everything. They’ll take care of him and you, Mrs. Mason, from here on out.”

  “Call me Jenna.”

  He nodded. “They offer everything from counseling to climbing walls and obstacle courses to expertise in prosthetics. Okay?”

  “Okay, as long as it’s not me doing the climbing.”

  He smiled.

  “How long are we talking, Doctor?”

  “Above-the-knee amputees need at least, on average, twelve months of rehab. When the knee is intact, the use of a prosthesis comes more easily.”

  “But we’re talking about Kevin.”

  “Right. Scratch half of what I say.”

  “Already have. He’s going to be an outpatient in no time.”

  Danny wondered who the woman was living inside his sister’s body.

  Dr. Adams said, “Kevin will experience phantom pains that over time will become more of a sensation. His brain thinks the limb is still there. I’ve heard bizarre stories of what it feels like. You and Kevin and the therapists will figure out how best to live with it.”

  “That’s what this all comes down to, doesn’t it? Figuring out how best to live with these changes. Hey, Danny.” She looked at him. “Don’t you think Kevin’s going to be really glad not to have to hike up two flights of stairs to an apartment?”

  “He’s going to love the house, Jen. Great foresight.”

  “Foresight? Danny, get a grip. God was taking care of things. As Nana would say, He is good.”

  Definite alien in place.

  Too keyed to sleep, Danny and Jenna sat in the hospital cafeteria, drank coffee, and waited for Kevin to waken.

  “Jen, Kevin’s going to be proud of his princess.”

  “I doubt that. I only quit being a royal pain in the neck the night we heard he’d been injured. I think that was just last night?”

  “Depends on what continent you’re on.”

  “Anyway, we’re talking seven months of unhinged and at least two of making really dumb mistakes.”

  “The war is the really dumb mistake.”

  “Danny, come on. I’m not going to blame circumstances. What’s happened has happened. We have a long row to hoe. We’re going to need marriage counseling on top of everything else. No doubt I’ll cry some more, but guess what? Whining isn’t going to put Kevin’s body back together.”

  “Wow, what has happened to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He widened his eyes at her.

  She shrugged. “Well, I just realized what you’ve been telling me all along. That God loves me. And . . . and forgives me. Call me slow to catch on, but there it is.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I was actually living my dream life, you know. I was married to a bona fide hottie. I was a teacher thinking about the day I could quit and have a baby.”

  “Was there something wrong with that?”

  “It was all about me. About me being comfortable and looking good. Suddenly that’s not my priority. I was praying on the airplane over here for Kevin, of course, and Miranda and those other wives and kids, especially poor Evie. And our whole family and Skylar and Rosie and Nathan, Tuyen and Hawk. Then I got going on the doctors and nurses helping Kevin. Then I ran out of words. I had no words but I felt like I was groaning inside for others. Where is all this coming from, Danny?”

  “God’s Spirit.”

  “Really?”

  “Jenna, you’ve heard this stuff your whole life from Nana.”

  “Obviously I wasn’t listening.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I know what your problem is with Skylar.”

  He stared at her.

  “It’s so all about you, Danny. It’s about you being hurt by Faith Simmons eons ago. It’s about you being hurt by Skylar. It’s about you looking like a horse’s rear end because your girlfriend is in prison. You really need to quit wallowing in self-pity and get over yourself.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I admit it.”

  “Good.” She abruptly pushed back her chair. “Kevin’s awake.”

  “Huh? How do you know he’s awake?”

  “The Holy Spirit?” She shrugged and hurried toward the exit.

  He followed at a slower pace. The new Jenna had taken the old Jenna’s bossiness to another level. It was as if the princess had grown into queen and understood how to exercise her increased power to its fullest extent. She would be all right on her own.

  He wondered how soon he could get on a plane.

  Like a fly on the wall, Da
nny watched Jenna and Kevin’s reunion. He had hesitated but she had insisted he be that near.

  He loved Kevin like a brother. He was a guy’s kind of guy. Athletic, funny, loyal. Danny had never understood how the man could fall for his sister until now. Maybe he had sensed the emergent woman beneath the pouting royal pain in the neck, the woman who would eventually stand by him through thick and thin.

  Jenna practically melted into Kevin. “Hey, Kev.”

  “Hey.” His voice rasped. “You really here?”

  “Yeah.” She kissed him full on the mouth for an embarrassingly long time.

  “Oh, man.” He chuckled. “My hallucinations never hit me like that.” His eyes strayed over her shoulder. “Danny?”

  “Yeah. Hey.”

  “Hey. Now I know this is for real ’cause you sure never showed up in my dreams.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, buddy.”

  Kevin struggled to move his arm, giving Jenna more space to scoot in close. “How you doing, pretty lady?”

  “Good, Kev, I’m good. Now that I can see your blue eyes. We’re going to be all right.”

  He touched her face. “I screwed up big-time.”

  “Yeah, you did. But I love you more than ever.”

  The scene blurred. Danny excused himself and went in search of a phone to call the airlines.

  Sixty-six

  Within forty-eight hours of grasping his brother-in-law’s hand in a hospital in Germany, Danny was sitting on Bells Beach in southern Australia. A chill went through him as he studied awesome waves that bore little resemblance to San Diego’s typical surf.

  Was he insane?

  All things being equal, he had no doubt he could handle the challenge of the swells before him. He’d practically grown up on a board. He’d won local contests through the years. He’d surfed the monsters in Hawaii.

  But things weren’t exactly equal these days.

  He’d lost his first love. Not Faith Simmons. Not Skylar. No. It was the God he’d known since as far back as he could remember.

  The surf pounded in his chest. Its roar filled his head.