Chasing the Wind

by Patricia H. Rushford

  James grinned. “There she goes again, taking over as group leader.”

  Anabelle flushed. “Sorry. It’s what I do.”

  “We’re not complaining,” Elena assured her. “At least I’m not. I like having a Mama Moderator to keep us in line.”

  The other two agreed. “I was just teasing,” James added.

  Elena sighed. “I hope I can talk about this without crying. When we were at the YMCA, the medics brought Sarah in.”

  “Isabel’s mother?” Candace leaned forward to set her drink on the large, round coffee table in front of them.

  Elena nodded. “She was in bad shape. She’d been caught in the storm. She could have been under the influence.”

  James frowned. “She had a seizure, and Dr. Prelutski rode back here in the ambulance with her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Candace said. “That must have been hard for you.”

  “It was.” Elena paused. “You see, this is my problem. Remember the other day when she called? You thought it would be a good idea if I met her for coffee. I waited for her, but she didn’t show up. Now she is here in our hospital. I think maybe God wants me to see her, but I don’t want to. I’m afraid that—” She struggled to find the words. “Deep down I am afraid I will lose my Isabel.”

  “Oh, Elena.” Anabelle placed a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “Part of me wants to go see her and make sure she’s okay, but part of me wants to walk away and never look back.”

  “She’s in my unit,” James said. “Unfortunately, I can’t really disclose anything.”

  “Even if you could, I don’t want to know.” Elena bit into her lower lip.

  He sighed. “I think you should go see her.”

  Elena lowered her head and closed her eyes. “Oh, James. I don’t know. I want to do what’s right, but not this.”

  “I’m sorry, Elena,” James leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I didn’t mean to push you. If you aren’t ready, you aren’t ready.”

  “What do you think God wants you to do?” Anabelle asked. Unfortunately, she knew well what Elena was going through.

  Elena tipped her head back. “I know that God is the one urging me to see her and talk to her, but I’m struggling.”

  “Then maybe,” Candace said, “we need to pray for courage for you. Fear so often gets in the way of doing what we know is right.” She gave them a wan smile. “Believe me, I know.”

  Anabelle agreed. “And forgiveness. I think God wants all relationships healed.” She stopped and looked at each of them. “And I’m thinking maybe I need to take my own advice.”

  “In what way?” Elena seemed eager to draw the attention away from herself.

  “You all know about the accident that nearly killed my Kirstie.”

  They all nodded. James sat back and rested his right ankle on his left knee. “That was a terrible time for you.”

  “Well…” She sipped her coffee. “I’m reliving it all over again. I thought I’d put my anger behind me, but I haven’t.”

  “What’s happened?” Elena turned toward Anabelle.

  “Kirstie got a new leg. It’s wonderful for her, but she’s been…” Anabelle smiled and shook her head. “I can’t believe what I’m saying.”

  “What?” Elena and James asked at once.

  “She’s not trying to cover it up anymore.” Anabelle waved her hand to stop their comments. “I know that’s a good thing. But I’m not used to seeing the leg exposed so much and every time I see it, this anger roars up inside me at the guy who did it. And—and at God for letting it happen.”

  “That’s normal, isn’t it?” Candace asked. “We know anger is a part of the grieving process.”

  “To some extent, but it’s been over ten years. I struggle with it more than Kirstie, it seems. Anyway, that’s not the worst of it. The man responsible for almost getting her killed, the drunk driver who hit her is in CCU—he had a heart attack.”

  Elena covered her mouth. “What did you do?”

  “What every good responsible, caring person does. I ran away.” She released a hollow laugh. “I looked at his chart but skipped going in to see him. I don’t know that I could stand there face-to-face and not want to punch his lights out.”

  James smiled and shook his head. “Anabelle, it’s not in you to punch anyone. Besides, you are a professional. No matter what you feel about a patient on the inside, you’d keep your cool and do whatever you had to do.”

  “I know you’re right.” Anabelle shifted her gaze to him. “I just feel like I’m back to square one.”

  Elena nodded. “Maybe you need to bite the bullet and talk to him. I do know that when I saw Sarah last night, my bad feelings for her were gone—at least for a few minutes anyway. I saw her as a patient needing help.”

  “You’re right.” Anabelle knew full well she’d have to deal with her feelings and somehow move past them. “I can’t let my emotions get in the way of patient care.” Anabelle gave them each a smile. “It looks like I really needed this time with you all as well.”

  “Me too,” Candace said. “I need another boost. The first appointment with the counselor was postponed because of the tornado warning. It was rescheduled for yesterday but I had a very good reason to cancel.”

  “The calling party?” Anabelle asked.

  Candace gave them a sheepish grin as the rest of the group scowled.

  “Now I have to work up the courage to make another appointment. I think I don’t want to because I’m afraid of all the emotional pain she might dig up. I don’t want to relive Dean’s death all over again.”

  “Sometimes,” James said, “a wound doesn’t heal well. A scab might form over it, but under the scab there’s a lot of infection. In order for healing to happen in a healthy way, the infection has to come out or it needs to be drained.”

  “So I let her rip off the scabs and start over?” Candace folded her arms and shivered. “Not the best image, James.”

  “Wise words though,” Anabelle said. “I think maybe I need to confront my feelings head-on and get all that infection out of my system.”

  “It might not be so bad.” Elena sighed. “How can it be worse than feeling as conflicted as I do now?”

  “Yep. I think we all have a tendency to worry about things and let them fester.” He chuckled at his pun while the others groaned.

  James gulped down the rest of his coffee. “I have something to share as well. Two things actually. I’ve been wanting to talk to someone, but the timing never seems right; I keep thinking I should be able to handle things on my own.”

  Anabelle smiled. “I think we all have a tendency to do that. I also think God gave us this friendship to feel comfortable sharing with one another.”

  “The three of us have certainly been put through the wringer. What are you dealing with, James?” Candace asked.

  James gave them a long look and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fern seems to be getting progressively worse. I’d like to do some remodeling on the house. I’d like to expand the downstairs into a master bedroom so she doesn’t have to climb the stairs.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.” Elena grinned. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Money. We are okay financially, but there isn’t much left over for things that big.”

  “Have you applied for a home improvement loan?” Candace asked. She set her empty cup on the table.

  “Not yet. I’m not sure I can afford the payments, and I don’t want to take out a second mortgage on the house.”

  “Oh.” Elena sat up straight. “I have an idea!”

  James laughed. “When don’t you?”

  “No seriously. I just thought of something. The hailstorm might be a blessing in disguise.”

  “I think I see where you’re going with this, Elena.” Anabelle grinned. “The insurance money you get for the damage done on your house could help pay for the remodel.”

  “Help maybe, but where would the rest of the money come f
rom?”

  An idea began to form in Anabelle’s head. “I think it is something we should pray about. I believe that if this is meant to be, God will bring everything together.”

  “I believe that too.” Elena clasped her hands together.

  James nodded. “All right then. Let’s pray, but there’s one more thing I’d like to add.”

  He told them about Gideon’s plan to join the ROTC. “I was against it at first, but after seeing how well he handled himself with Tucker and then his performance during the aftermath of the storm, I’m leaning toward letting him do it. Unfortunately, Fern’s against it. I guess we need prayer that if this is part of God’s plan for my son, that we all are able to come to an agreement.”

  “Can we pray for my daddy too?” Lucy came over from her cozy corner spot and squeezed in between Anabelle and Elena.

  “Of course, we can.” Anabelle pulled her up against her. They bowed their heads and prayed for each of them and that, in the end, God’s will would be done.

  Lucy’s resounding amen brought a number of questioning looks and a few smiles from other customers.

  While Anabelle walked back to the hospital, the conflicting emotions she’d carried with her all day bubbled up like stew threatening to overflow its kettle. She needed to find Lucy’s father. He had to be somewhere—but apparently not at Hope Haven.

  She settled Lucy in her office. “I’ll be back in just a couple minutes, okay?”

  “Okay. If I need you, can I come out?”

  “Sure.” Anabelle smiled. “Just call my name.”

  Janet, the head nurse for evening shift, looked up from her computer. “Hi, Anabelle, I’m glad you came back. Your husband was here a few minutes ago. Said to tell you your car was in the employee parking lot.”

  “Oh, good.” Anabelle wasn’t surprised.

  “You have a gem of a husband.” Janet grinned.

  “I know.” Anabelle leaned against the counter. “I’m very blessed.”

  “Yeah, the good ones are always taken.” Janet, at forty-two, was single. “Did you need something?” she asked.

  “I wanted to check on Mr. Talbot. I never did make it into his room today.” It wasn’t a lie. But it sounded better than admitting how she truly felt. “How is he doing?”

  “Not so good.”

  Anabelle frowned, taken aback by the answer. “What’s going on?”

  “Dr. Hildebrand says he needs bypass surgery. She wants to schedule him in tomorrow. He’s pretty upset.”

  “Understandably. It sounds serious if she doesn’t want to wait until Monday.”

  “It is.”

  Anabelle scanned his chart before heading to the room. She tried hard to separate the patient with a serious heart condition from the man who had run Kirstie down.

  She paused outside his room thinking this might not be the best time for facing her nemesis. Weariness had seeped so far into her bones, Anabelle felt certain that if she closed her eyes, she’d fall asleep standing right there.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to walk into the room. “Mr. Talbot.” Her legs were as unsteady as overcooked spaghetti.

  He took one look at her and winced. “Anabelle? Anabelle Scott?”

  Anabelle attempted to steady her nerves, determined to not let him see her discomfort. She was surprised that he remembered her name. She thought he would have put the accident behind him after all these years. But then, he had served time in prison.

  “Hello, Mr. Talbot.” Anabelle used her most professional but kind tone. “I’m the nursing supervisor here in the Cardiac Care Unit. I understand you’ll be having surgery tomorrow.”

  He nodded and Anabelle wondered if perhaps he might be uncomfortable seeing her again. He should be.

  Anabelle thought back to the last time she’d seen him. He had cried when the judge read the verdict and sentenced him to five years. Anabelle thought it should have been more. His gaze had locked with hers as if pleading for mercy. She’d had none to give.

  He had a family who depended on him, his attorney had told the jury. They shouldn’t be punished for his lapse in judgment.

  He’d needed to be punished, and Anabelle remembered feeling both remorse and gratitude when the judge sentenced him. She had felt bad for his family, but that wasn’t her problem.

  Looking at him now brought a sense pity that seemed to override the anger. James had been right. She could contain her contempt and put on an objective front. How could she not feel compassion upon noting his labored breathing, his pallor? “Do you have any questions or concerns about the surgery or anything?”

  “Yes.” His gaze went down to his hands, which he’d folded and placed on his stomach. His oxygen tubing twisted to one side and he reached up to adjust it, but couldn’t get the prongs to stay in his nostrils.

  “All right. What can I help you with?” Anabelle slipped on a pair of gloves before adjusting the tubing for him. She then checked the IV and made certain his leads were placed correctly.

  “I need you to forgive me.”

  She pulled back. “You what?”

  “The doctor said she thought the surgery would fix me up, but it’s a risky one and I might die.”

  “Most of our patients come through bypass just fine.” Anabelle ignored his request.

  “I know there’s no excuse for what I did. I guess I can’t blame you for not wanting to forgive me.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Truth is, I’ve never forgiven myself.”

  “I’m sure God has forgiven you, Mr. Talbot. There’s no reason you need to hear that from me.” Anabelle winced inwardly. Who was she to determine such a thing? Maybe he did need to hear it. Anabelle just didn’t know if she could say it with any measure of truth.

  “When I was in prison, I accepted the Lord as my Savior. I felt my sins had been forgiven, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t forget what I had done to your little girl.”

  “Perhaps you are not supposed to forget,” Anabelle spoke more sharply than she’d intended. “I never will.”

  “Maybe. But I want to make things right before I die.”

  “My daughter lost her leg, Mr. Talbot. She almost lost her life.” Anabelle felt the rest of her reserve slip away. “You will never make that right.”

  “Believe me, I know that better than anyone.”

  Anabelle clenched her jaw, barely able to speak. “I don’t wish you any ill, Mr. Talbot.” Anabelle stood ramrod straight. “I hope your surgery tomorrow goes well.”

  “Thank you.”

  She left, but not before seeing the sorrow in his eyes. Perhaps she wasn’t as professionally objective as she’d thought.

  Minutes later, when she’d gotten her emotions in hand, Anabelle headed for her office. Her hands shook as she reached for the door handle.

  Anabelle opened her office door, expecting to find Lucy, but the girl wasn’t in the room. She checked under the desk and in the small closet. No Lucy and no Bookie Bear.

  Going out to the nurses’ station, she asked the nurses if they’d seen her. No one had.

  Don’t panic. She has to be here somewhere.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LUCY HAD PROBABLY GONE IN SEARCH OF HER father again. Or she might have gone to the cafeteria. Adrenaline prodded her into action. She paused briefly to order her search. She couldn’t have gone far.

  Anabelle would start looking for her right here in the unit. She first checked in Dr. Drew’s room. He hadn’t seen her. Neither had the next patient or the next. She passed by Talbot’s room and made her way around. She was about to go over to ICU when she heard a giggle.

  Anabelle spun around intent on following the sound. It was coming from George Talbot’s room. The sight awaiting her was almost more than she could comprehend. Lucy had climbed up on the bed with George.

  “Lucy! What are you doing?” Anabelle took a step forward and stopped.

  The little girl beamed. “I found my Grampa.”

  Anabelle looked from
one to the other, hardly able to take it in. This man she saw as the monster who had run down her baby was now a grandfather. “Are you really her grandfather?”

  He chuckled. “This is my Bookie Bear.” He hugged her close then frowned. “She was telling me about her daddy’s being missing?”

  Anabelle drew in a deep breath. “Bill Preston is your son?”

  “My son-in-law.”

  Anabelle nodded. “He was injured in an auto accident. The police are trying to locate him. I’ve done all I can to find him.”

  Lucy sat up. “Anabelle said I could go home with her, but now I can stay with you, right?”

  He gave Anabelle an imploring look, then smiling at Lucy said, “I’m afraid you can’t stay here, Bookie. Grandpa has to have an operation tomorrow.”

  Anabelle stepped up beside the bed and reached for Lucy. “Is there anyone in your family I can contact? Your wife?”

  He shook his head. “Lost both my wife and daughter to breast cancer just ten years apart. It’s just Lucy, Bill and me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Anabelle looked down at Lucy. “You can still stay with me, okay? We’ll come back and see your grandpa tomorrow when he wakes up.”

  “But—what about my daddy? Somebody has to find him.” Lucy frowned at Anabelle’s open arms and snuggled up to her grandfather.

  “I know, honey, and we will. First, we need to get some sleep.” George gave her a hug. “Come on, Bookie Bear. Be a good girl for Anabelle. She’ll take care of you and bring you back tomorrow.”

  “I wanna stay here with you.”

  Anabelle didn’t have the energy to deal with a stubborn child, but she did have a thought. “Do you like dolls, Lucy?”

  She nodded, her lower lip protruding.

  Anabelle smiled and pretended enthusiasm. “My daughter has some dolls and toys you can play with. And I have a very special bedroom you can sleep in.”

  “Okay.” Lucy released a deep sigh and scooted closer to Anabelle, allowing herself to be lifted off the bed. Before setting her on the floor, Anabelle hugged the girl and gave George a victory smile.