“Then let’s bow our heads.” The man nodded, directing the scene as if in a play. “We have some very important praying to do. Let the Lord have the burden, and we’ll take the peace it gives us. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like a plan, Pastor. Because letting her go into surgery tomorrow morning is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
*
Victoria had wanted to stay awake, to continue listening to Joe’s voice, but the medicine had won the battle. But now, she just couldn’t sleep. The nurse promised she’d be back with more medication. Not to worry. Victoria relaxed against her pillow.
Joe had said something about an old plate. No…she had said that. An old broken plate, but then Joe said he loved antique plates. Even repaired ones. Would he love her after the doctor carved her open like a pumpkin, scraping out—she wasn’t sure what all. Dr. Gross had tried to explain to her, but to be honest, she didn’t understand exactly what he’d be doing. She just knew if he didn’t, she was going to get sicker.
Her fingers grazed her chin where Joe’s thumb had run across the skin. The tenderness of his touch lingered, and she longed to have him back—next to her side. Closing her eyes, she imagined him sitting next to her…no, standing with his arms wrapped around her, protecting her from what was about to happen. She fought another yawn.
Oh, how she hated being the helpless female. All of her life she had been the strong one. From baseball to dance classes all the way to running her own studio, Victoria had excelled in so many things. Even classes in school had been easy. And then all of a sudden her health had taken a dive worse than a B-52 on a mission. How had that happened?
Her parents were worrying. Joe, whom she’d had every intention of keeping at a distance, worried also. She had let down her guard, allowed him into her personal life. Not what she’d planned. Her plans had forever allowed her to be in control.
She thought back to their childhood and a particular ball game. It was a very warm day and dry, so all the ballplayers could sweat off the heat as they rounded the bases. Victoria had pitched a particularly strong game; only one run had made it in to the Sluggers’ three. And with Joe Huntington knocking dirt from his shoe and up to bat again, there was only one thing left to do to keep her promise to herself.
Victoria pressed her tongue between her lips. She looked to first base where Doggie Hoskins was leading off the plate, then a look to third, out of habit, no one waited to head home. Then her threat to home base. “Heads up, Master Huntington.”
Joey glanced up in time for his eyes to widen. He couldn’t dodge the ball in time. Thunk! He took it in the eye and Victoria smiled to herself. “Gotcha.”
The umpire, Petey Hoskins, Doggie’s older brother, had to call up a pinch runner, because Joe had already headed off the diamond, an old rag covering his face.
*
Victoria had felt bad once she knew what damage that pitch had done, but still. She’d been the one in control. She had promised herself she’d knock his block off, and she was as good as her word. Horsefeathers! Just a little swelling and a black eye. Buck up and take it, mister. Which was exactly what her father had told her when he found out and sentenced her to two weeks of wood chopping to pay Joe’s doctor bill. Joe hadn’t said a word, but his mother, who no doubt paid the bill, wasn’t quite as generous. She’d accepted the five dollars gladly, and Victoria, blistered hands and all, had slunk away like a dirty skunk.
Now she shook her head, her lips tilting in spite of herself. The fact that Joe spoke to her to this day was amazing. Was he a glutton for punishment? How strange it was to think of being so young…so healthy and strong. But she hadn’t been, had she? The heart defect had been there like a monster in the movies, hiding…waiting for its chance to spring out at her. And now, thinking about what the doctors had both told her, the shortness of breath that had been there all along, had been the warning she’d chosen to ignore.
After a short pity party, Victoria chastened herself. If she didn’t start flexing her courage like a trained muscle, her life would never be the same.
She sat up in bed, pulled her robe around her shoulders and put a hand over her heart. Before the nurse came in with her last dose of medication, she’d walk down the hall. Look out the window. Appreciate the stars and the heavens. Give the entire situation to God.
I will do well tomorrow. I’m not in control. Not even Dr. Gross is in control. But God is. And if He wants me whole again, I will be. If for some reason I don’t come through whole and strong, then I’ll have the courage to face even that horrid wheelchair in the corner. God, be with me as You guide Dr. Gross’s hands.
Chapter 14
Bits and pieces fluttered through Victoria’s mind as she opened her eyes. Her father’s laughter. His hand gripping hers like a vise. The single wooden cross on the wall in the chapel. Joe’s smile. Early in the morning, Joe had pushed her to the small chapel at the hospital. Had wrapped her in his arms as she clung to him for strength, the cross strong and sure behind them. But that was so long ago.
Now a nurse asked her if she was in pain. Of course she was in pain. But why? When were they going to do the surgery? They had put her out, but if they didn’t do the surgery soon, she’d feel every cut. A soft kiss to her forehead. Joe’s voice?
Then Phillipe Mandrin was dancing with a dumpling. A dumpling?
Was this all a dream?
Well, she would find out in short order. She tried to sit up. Pressure pushed her back, caused her to catch her breath as the pain ricocheted through her. “Yes! Yes, I’m in pain.” Hadn’t a nurse just asked her that? “Help!”
A woman in white rushed in. Who was she? A nurse. “Like a little something for your discomfort?”
“If a little is usual…better give me…a lot.”
“If it hurts too much to breathe, you can hug a pillow to your chest. Doesn’t do much, but it will help some.” She headed out of the room.
“They’re done? Are they…finished?” Her arms flailed in the air to get the nurse’s attention. “Well?”
The nurse returned. “Miss Banks. Calm down. Yes, they finished two days ago.”
“Two days?”
“You’ve been out. Well, most of it. We’ve been giving you morphine for the pain. I don’t suppose you remember much of anything. You’re actually doing quite well.”
“I am? I feel…more like that ambulance…”
“What about it?” The nurse lifted a syringe.
“I think…it ran over me. Did you…get the…driver’s name?”
The nurse laughed and Victoria tried to smile, but in a few seconds, after the dose of medicine, her eyes felt heavy and pressing once more. The dark shadow, which was all that was left of the nurse, headed for the door.
“She’s out again. But you can sit and wait.”
Who? Joe? The doctor, maybe. No, he’d be poking and prodding.
She fought to ask, “They did the operation? What happened?”
A comforting voice and blissful sleep.
*
Days turned into two weeks and still Victoria’s father didn’t budge from her side. But it hurt to learn that Joe had left as soon as her father arrived. Why couldn’t he have stayed on a couple of days? She wasn’t going to bother Dad with questions. He must be missing her mother terribly. No need to add to his misery with her own whining.
Sitting in the chair with a pillow over her chest to help protect her, she did her best Edward G. Robinson. “So, when you gonna break us outta here, Smitty?”
“There’s my daughter. That’s the girl I’ve been waiting to see.”
“With all these wires and paraphernalia, you didn’t think I would have gone anywhere, did you?” She grinned. “Did you talk with Mom this morning?”
At the mention of her mother, Dad’s face brightened. If only Victoria could have that kind of loving marriage one day. It seemed unlikely now. According to Dad, Joe had hightailed it out of town as soon as her father arrived.
And while she remembered little of it, her father had told her that Joe said to tell her goodbye. Well, maybe hightailed was too strong a word. Her father had simply said Joe left after he arrived.
“I talked to your mother. She’s doing very well, sweetie. Even stumping around on crutches to the chagrin of Dr. Cleewell, but you know your mother. Tough as Rosie the Riveter. Told me there were linens to change and launder. I’ll bet she’s leaning on a crutch to iron the things.”
“Dad, Mom would be so embarrassed if she heard you.”
“She only acts the part of the delicate rose. Where do you think you got your spunk from?”
Victoria giggled. “Oh, I know where I got it from, thank you. And Auntie played a part in it, as well. There are strong women in both the Banks and White lines.”
“You’ve got me there, sweetheart.”
She pulled him toward her for a hug, then winced. “Oooh. Still sore.”
He ran a hand through his sparse hair and smiled. “Ah, you women. Really keep a fella on his toes. And now you, with a practically new heart—”
“Dad, I can hardly believe it. Dr. Gross said it all went perfectly. By spring, if all goes well, I’ll be teaching dance again. Two more months. Dancing, flying across the floor with my giggling girls.”
“He did say no baseball for a while.” Her father laughed. “I made sure to ask.”
Victoria giggled. “I guess you finally got your way, Dad. Besides, the thought of getting hit in the chest with a ball makes me want to cry.” She reached toward the stand next to the bed. “Did you see the card from my girls?” She opened a card with flowers and ballet slippers covering it and all of their names written as neatly as possible.
No card from Joe, though. Not a word from Joe in two weeks.
*
Joe prayed she would be surprised…in a good way. It was all he could do not to call her and tell her, but if he heard her voice, he would feel compelled to spill the Boston beans. He smiled. Must be getting punchy waiting for her to get home. Where she belonged.
When Art told him he’d received word the roof contract was going through after all, he’d insisted Joe return. He needed someone forceful enough to face down Wallace Wysse Jr. if he tried to use his father’s family connections with Mr. Flannigan again. Poor Flannigan. Sure got caught in the middle of a mess trying to remain loyal to his best friend and cousin-in-law, Wallace Wysse Sr.
Sometimes a man got what he deserved. Flannigan admitted to Joe that he’d wanted Joe to work for Wysse to help build the company back up. All his pandering about “prove” yourself to Joe had really been to help the old man bring back his company.
Joe accepted, even respected his honesty this go-round, but Flannigan would have to earn back Joe’s trust. That wasn’t the way men should do business.
In the meantime, Joe supervised the work site. In his spare time with some of the last of his savings, he worked with two day laborers to get his family’s house back in tip-top condition. He’d be bringing a bride home to it soon enough. At least, that was his plan once Victoria returned. He had spoken with Dr. Gross about, well, about their future. Could they get married…have children? And Gross had given him the go-ahead. Hadn’t been an easy question to ask, but Joe did. He had to know.
He slapped his hands together, warding off the cold that had finally settled in Howell along with six inches of snow. After an unusually warm December, this cold snap had more bite than a copperhead. But no cold could stop him. This place had to be perfect. All the rooms repainted, the woodwork varnished. The furniture made to look like new, as well.
He walked into the bedroom, gazed at the masterfully crafted light oak and inlaid-wood headboard and dresser. The one new purchase he’d made for them. His parents’ old four-poster rope bed had gone into the guest room. But he’d kept the beautiful wedding quilt that had been on his folks’ bed as long as Joe remembered. Victoria might not like it, of course, and if she didn’t, he would take it off and let her put on whatever she liked. As long as she said yes, she could do as she pleased with the house, with his life, with his heart.
Gerald and Butch Casey put away their tools and headed his way. Gerald thumped him on the back. “I think we’re gonna call it a night. Don’t touch the paint in the closet. Still wet. And you were right, that light yellow didn’t look bad once it dried. Guess I like blue and only blue. Prob’ly why my wife picks out the colors. See you tomorrow night after we get off work at the grain.”
Joe nodded. “See you then. You fellas are doing a great job.”
Butch raised an eyebrow and laughed. “See that that’s reflected in our pay.”
No sooner had they left than the phone rang. “Joe here.”
“Joe, it’s Art. Wanted to let you know we’ll be on Thursday’s morning train. She’s still pretty sore, but Dr. Gross says if all looks well tonight, he’ll discharge her late Wednesday.”
“When would you leave?” He had to make sure everything was ready before she returned.
“We’ll have a good night’s sleep at the Shamrock and head out Thursday morning. Thought you should tell Mother. Less than a week and her baby’ll be home.”
My baby will be home. But Joe didn’t say that. She might… No, he refused to think she wouldn’t say yes. “I’ll let her know, sir. Safe trip. We’ll see you both Saturday.”
He walked back into the bedroom and snatched the small velvet box out of the dresser. When he opened the lid, a sparkler met his gaze. His grandmother’s ring. Then his mother’s. Would she want a secondhand ring, a two-time hand-me-down? He’d taken it to the jeweler in town and had the man clean it up. A large daisy-cut diamond in the center, with smaller diamonds on each side shone bright as the sun. This must have cost his grandfather plenty in his day, but then, Gramps had been a very wealthy man.
Before he could finish dialing the Bankses’ number so he could talk to her mother, Joe stopped and put the phone back in the cradle. He really wanted to call Victoria, but with another quick glance at the ring, he couldn’t. No, he had to keep all the news to himself for a few more days. He had to wait until she returned. Then he’d show her the house, get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. So no phone call. He didn’t exactly keep secrets all that well.
With his mission back on track, he called Mrs. Banks, then picked up his tools. There was still his parents’ antique dining room table to refinish.
Chapter 15
Victoria barely swallowed her food. Her father had bought her a chicken sandwich and milk. Yes, he still saw her as thirteen years old. Oh, well, he’d probably always see her that way, and he’d been overly protective since her surgery.
Another quick bite and she passed the rest of the sandwich to him to finish. “I’ve had enough, Dad. But I am getting my appetite back. I can’t wait to get back home and make a pie. A custard pie. Oooh, that sounds so good after all that terrible hospital food.”
“They certainly charged enough for it.” He blushed immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Oh, Dad. Are we going to be able to afford that huge bill?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He shifted in his seat and faced her. “Joe paid over half of that bill. I’ll be sending them the rest over the next four months.”
“Joe? He paid my bill?”
“They wouldn’t go ahead with the surgery unless half of the estimate was paid. He didn’t tell you?”
Victoria’s mind drifted to the times he had started to share things with her but she’d cut him off, complained or whined. Or the times he’d sat there as she drifted in and out of sleep. Poor Joe. Not only had he been stuck with her, but he’d paid part of her bill.
“Why did he do that, Dad?”
“He was afraid my business was suffering too much, and he didn’t want me worrying with Mother laid up. He’s a fine one, that boy.”
That man was hardly a boy, but she wouldn’t say that to her father. Besides,
chances were, he truly had done it as a favor to her father. In spite of all he’d said to her, he had not called even once. No letter, not a note. Surely if he had real feelings for her he would have at least scribbled a note that said get well.
“Sure, Dad. Salt of the earth. I intend to pay him back.”
“Of course. With the roofing contract I can reimburse him once we’re home.”
“Oh. All right. Then I’ll repay you when the time comes.”
Her dad shot her a glance, a wary expression that asked her questions she had no intention of answering.
*
Joe held Mrs. Banks’s arm to keep her steady in the snow as she leaned forward on the crutches. She had refused to stay in the auto and wait where it was warm. “I’m not ready to roll over and die yet, Joseph.” She dug the crutches firmly into the snow. “It will take more than a couple of inches of snow to keep me down.”
“Ma’am, I never thought—”
“Don’t you mind what you thought.” Then she smiled and patted his cheek. She was still a lovely lady, and Joe pictured Victoria in twenty years. “Thank you, Joseph. You’re a dear boy. Have I told you how much I appreciate all you’ve done?”
He settled against the side of the platform, hat in hand, and nodded. He chuckled, wondering why he’d bothered to bring the hat along. He glanced over the open track, plopped it back on his head and heaved a sigh. Tucking the scarf his brother’s family had given him deeper into his overcoat, he shivered against the chilly air.
“You all right, Joseph?”
“Fine, ma’am. Anxious is all. And cold.”
“So am I. From the moment we discovered our baby would be having heart surgery and I broke my leg, I’ve been stuck at home. Nothing to do but worry. Unable to be with her at a time like this, when a girl needs her mom most, made me a little stir-crazy. Yes, Joseph, I’m very anxious to see my daughter.” She smiled. “And you’re right. It is cold today.”
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