Anchored

by Hoffmann, Tracey

  Jonathan’s eyes narrowed and the lie came easily. “Someone asking for directions. What are you doing?”

  “I’m measuring the wall to see if my embroidery will fit here. What do you think?”

  “Perfect spot for it, do you want a hand?” he asked, his eyes darting to the door.

  Margaret reached out and touched his hand.

  Jonathan throat contracted and he stepped away. Coughing, he moved his hand and rubbed his forehead.

  “I need to shower and get going. I could be late tonight so don’t hold dinner.” He saw the surprise on her face and grimaced.

  An hour later Jonathan paced his office and muttered to himself. No contact with Judy for weeks had made him believe she’d accepted the situation. What a fool he was to think she’d leave him alone.

  He slammed his palm against his forehead in frustration. He knew he’d have to do as she asked. What option did he have?

  ~~~

  Jonathan looked at the familiar surroundings and felt dazed. For so many years he’d given in to Judy’s every demand. It had seemed easier than the consequences. What would have happened if he’d stood up to her all those years ago when Mia was born; would she have gone away? Jonathan’s mind whirled.

  The blaring of a car horn startled him and he got out of his car and hurried across the street to Judy’s house. He didn’t knock but walked straight in.

  Judy had lit candles and they seemed to be everywhere. What did she think she was doing? Creating some romantic scene where he would drop into her arms and take up where they’d left off? He’d had it with her. Where was she?

  As soon as he saw her he felt a flood of anger. He allowed his eyes to travel down the length of her body in disgust. He hated her for the threat she was to his family.

  His eyes drilled into her with contempt and he placed his hands at the base of her neck, allowing his fingers to span her throat and his grip tightened slightly. He wasn’t her puppet; he was the one in control.

  Her eyes widened and she threw her head back, displaying the long column of her neck. She smiled.

  Jonathan dropped his hands and stepped back.

  “Jonathan, darling, I have a gift for you, come see.” She moved to the coffee table and picked up some photos. Handing them to him she waited.

  Jonathan took them and felt haunted by what he saw. Looking up, he felt his world crashing around him.

  “Where did you get these?” he demanded.

  “Don’t you like them? I thought they captured us quite well. You’re not tired of me are you, Jonathan?” Judy flashed a triumphant smile.

  Ripping the photos up in a frenzy Jonathan threw them to the floor. She would have copies. Jonathan sank into the chair and let out a long sigh of despair. Looking up he shook his head. “No Judy. I’m not tired of you. Come here.”

  ~~~

  The mirror’s reflection stared back at her and Mia remembered David’s words. He’d called her beautiful. She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt messy, out of sorts. She’d tried to talk to her mother this morning and they’d had a fight. She’d been angry and accused her mother of not caring about her, of being indifferent to her need to spend time together.

  What had her mother said? Sometimes things aren’t what they seem. What did that mean? Why was it so difficult to get some answers from her?

  Mia looked at her watch and realized Uncle Robert would be here soon. Grabbing her bag, she left the house to wait by the gate.

  His car pulled up and he leaned over to open the door. “Hi Princess, thanks for agreeing to help.”

  “It’ll be fun. Have you any idea of what color you want?” Mia queried.

  “Jen liked greens and earthy colors, but I thought it was time for a complete change, maybe pale blue. Or do you think the walls would disappear?”

  “Pale blue paint may make the rooms look bigger. Are you painting the whole house or just downstairs?”

  “The whole house, but starting downstairs. I have a couple of mates coming over to help me,” he explained.

  “That will make a big difference. Can I help? I could come by after work,” she suggested.

  “No thanks, I think we have it covered. No need to get your pretty hands splattered in paint.” He smiled broadly.

  Nodding, Mia felt relieved. Her energy level felt around zero and the thought of waving a paintbrush around didn’t appeal.

  “Lets choose the paint and then have one of those iced smoothies to cool down. It’s going to be a scorcher today.”

  Sitting across from him with a large glass of peach smoothie, Mia sighed.

  “Thanks for helping, Mia. Are you okay? You don’t look—happy.”

  What could she say to that? The truth was she felt miserable. “I had a fight with Mum this morning and said things I shouldn’t have. I wish I could take them back.” Mia ran her hand through her hair, not caring that she messed it up.

  “You’ll work it out,” Robert reassured her.

  “Honestly, Uncle Robert, I feel like I’m sinking.” Her eyes swam with tears and she searched in her bag for a tissue.

  “Don’t cry, Mia.”

  Wiping her eyes, Mia glanced around to see if anyone had noticed her tears.

  “It’s like I’m adrift at sea with nothing to cling to. The waves are relentlessly driving me further away from shore. I can’t seem to think clearly. Everything is such a muddle and I’m making things worse by blaming Mum.”

  “What you need, my girl—is an anchor.”

  “I thought Mum was my anchor but she keeps casting me off.” Mia felt disheartened.

  “Mmm. I remember a Bible verse that mentions an anchor. Can I read it to you? I have my Bible in the car.”

  “No, I’m all right. Don’t worry yourself.”

  Robert pulled to his feet and told her to stay put.

  She watched him hobble out of the shop and found herself sighing heavily.

  Robert arrived back, puffing slightly. He began flicking through the pages of the Bible until he found what he was looking for.

  “Ah, here it is. Chapter six in the book of Hebrews and it’s talking about God’s promise.” He looked up before reading and smiled. “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek.”

  “I don’t understand, Uncle Robert, but I like the sound of hope as an anchor.”

  “I think it’s saying that just as an anchor holds a ship safely in position, our hope in Jesus is a guarantee of our safety. You know how a ship’s anchor goes down deep to the ocean bed. Well, the Christian’s anchor goes up into a heavenly sanctuary where it’s anchored into God himself.” Mia’s silence prompted him to continue.

  “Mia, can you picture a heavenly harbor, a place where your soul could drop anchor? An anchor that can never be shaken loose by any storm? Well that’s what I think this verse is saying. Jesus is our lifeline! Or as the verse says, high priest.”

  Mia shifted in her seat and her eyes moved about restlessly. “I’m sorry but I have difficulty believing that. Where was my safety from the storm of my father’s anger? Why doesn’t my mother love me? Why didn’t she stop him from screaming at me?” Mia felt her face heat up and her hands gripped the table.

  “Honey, your mother loves—”

  “Don’t say it Uncle Robert, I don’t want to hear it! Yes, Mum believes like you do, but when she’s fighting with dad do you think she feels firm and secure? Where’s your so-called anchor then?”

  “We all have storms. I can’t say I understand about your parent’s fighting. All I know is that if you believe these words then your soul is anchored, firm and secure.”

  Shaking her head, Mia felt frozen. The anger drained away and left her feeling empty. She’d had enough and wanted to be alone.

  “I’ve finished my drink if you’re ready to go.” Her lips tightened and her shoul
ders felt heavy.

  Chapter 8

  The gentle breeze drew Margaret outside. Today she’d make things right with Mia. She hummed as she strolled down the street with no particular destination in mind. She loved the smells of summer. Stooping down, she picked a frangipani flower and studied it, noticing how the delicate yellow centre seemed to melt into the creamy outer petals.

  Margaret looked up as if seeking something or someone. Her heart praised God for His creation and she felt loved. Placing the flower behind her ear she continued walking. She recalled a verse she’d read earlier, ‘And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’

  She felt like a child out for a stroll with her father.

  Glancing up the road Margaret checked for traffic and crossed. She walked on the edge of the road and remembered teaching Mia to walk towards oncoming traffic so the drivers could see you. One day Blue Bay would have sidewalks but she liked the slow pace of drivers in the area.

  She noticed a car coming up the road but was unconcerned as she was easily visible. Margaret found herself looking automatically to Mr. Stanley’s balcony to see if there were any Rosellas perching. Robert often laughed at the mess they made on the concrete and had once suggested Mr. Stanley move his feed trays to the grass, only to be told to mind his own business.

  God must love color, she thought as she looked at the bright red, green and yellow parrots.

  The sound of screeching tires caused her heart to skip and she spun around. Her feet locked and her body froze with fear as she saw the car change direction and head straight at her.

  Her eyes widened, transfixed as the car smacked into her, catapulting her over the bonnet. As she bumped on the road, pain scored through her body. Managing to lift herself up onto her elbow, Margaret turned to watch helplessly as the car reversed towards her.

  Her eyes locked on the driver and her mouth opened in recognition.

  ~~~

  Mia couldn’t take her eyes off the child. Little Jenny Bartlett was hurting. Her skin was pale and she never seemed to smile. A light breeze would knock her over and whenever anyone spoke to her she looked down and avoided eye contact.

  Mia wondered how a three year old coped with her mother leaving the family for another man. Her heart ached for the little girl as she moved across the room to where Jenny sat on the floor holding a teddy.

  Squatting to her level Mia whispered, “Hi Jenny, that’s a lovely teddy you have there. Has he got a name?”

  Jenny didn’t look up.

  Mia ran her finger over the teddy’s face and smiled. “Um, I think he looks very intelligent and kind. Is he a kind teddy Jenny?”

  Jenny peeped up and looked solemnly at Mia.

  Mia sat on the floor and picked up the teddy’s paw and shook it. “Hello, Ted, it’s nice to meet you. I like your friend Jenny, do you think she’ll be my friend?”

  Slowly Jenny’s little hands moved the teddy’s head up and down.

  “Oh that’s great. Can you tell Jenny I think she’s very pretty?”

  Jenny lifted the teddy and placed his nose in her ear as if he was talking to her. When she settled the teddy back on her lap Mia spoke to him again.

  “Do you think Jenny would help me bring out the morning tea?”

  Jenny lifted the teddy to her ear once more and listened. Then she moved him to Mia’s ear.

  Mia pretended to listen and nodded. She stood up and waited.

  Jenny looked up at Mia and held out her hand. Mia’s heart contracted as she took the little hand in hers. Together they walked towards the kitchen.

  Half way through the afternoon Mia went to the office to take a call. Her father’s voice sounded strained, distant.

  “Mia, Margaret’s—your mother’s been hit by a car. She’s been taken to the hospital.” His voice faded away to a whisper.

  “Is she all right?” Mia’s mouth tightened, fear fluttered in her chest.

  “I don’t know. I just got a call from the police. Maggie’s unconscious. I have to go. I’ll meet you there.”

  Hanging up the phone, Mia stumbled into a chair. She lifted a hand to her mouth and stifled a cry.

  Jackie entered the office and stared at her. “Mia, are you okay?”

  Mia’s chest squeezed tight and a thick lump rose in her throat. The words tumbled out as she tried to make sense of them.

  “It’s Mum, there’s been an accident, I need to go.”

  ~~~

  Jonathan glanced at Robert as he paced by the window. He knew Robert was praying and umpped at the idea. Shifting around he took in the sober look etched on Klara’s face and hated her for being there. Couldn’t she give him some respect as Margaret’s husband and stay away?

  Mia fidgeted in a chair. How could they be kept waiting like this without any news?

  Mia jumped restlessly to her feet and picked up a magazine, only to drop it again.

  Jonathan felt he’d aged twenty years in the last two hours. “This is ridiculous. Someone needs to tell us what’s happening.” He struggled for patience. “Robert, will you stop pacing and see if you can find out anything?”

  Robert turned to Jonathan and spoke softly. “They know we’re waiting. They’ll come and tell us what’s happening when they can. We need to keep praying—”

  “Dad’s right. I need to know how mum is. I’m going to see if I can get some information.” Mia moved towards the door only to have it swing open in front of her.

  A tall gangly man wearing a white coat entered the room.

  Silence followed his entry and all eyes focused on his face.

  “I’m Dr. Peterson. Mr. Dawson?” Jonathan stared blankly at the doctor and didn’t respond.

  Robert hesitated, looked at Jonathan and then stepped forward to offer his hand to the doctor. “I’m Robert Hanley, Margaret’s brother.” Robert indicated to Jonathan, “This is Jonathan, Margaret’s husband, and Mia here is Margaret’s daughter.” His eyes moved to Klara but she shook her head.

  Jonathan stood and faced the doctor. He glanced at Mia and saw the crease on her forehead. He wanted to hold her and say everything would be all right, but he made no move towards her.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had a long wait.” Dr. Peterson’s arms hung loosely at his side and he stretched his fingers.

  Jonathan found his voice. “How is Margaret? I need to know how my wife is.” Jonathan could hear the demand in his voice and tried to calm down. “Please, is she all right?”

  Dr. Peterson rubbed his hands down the side of his coat. “Mrs. Dawson is in a comfortable condition. The CT scan showed a linear skull fracture on the lateral surface of her head.”

  “What does that mean, doctor?” Robert asked.

  “Not good, I’m afraid. There was a slight injury to the middle meningeal artery and we found a collection of blood between the inner table of her skull and the outermost layer of the dura.”

  Jonathan was unaware he’d stopped breathing until his body lunged for breath. What was it the doctor had said? Margaret had a fractured skull. Surely they could fix that.

  “So how long before she can come home?” he asked.

  Mia’s eyes darted to her father and then back to the doctor. “Is Mum going to be okay?”

  “We’ve removed the extradural blood and cauterized the bleeding vessels. We’ll monitor her closely over the next twenty-four hours.”

  “And if the bleeding starts up again?” As soon as he’d spoken the question Jonathan wished he hadn’t.

  “Hopefully it won’t.”

  Jonathan saw Robert’s eyes were swimming with tears and the reality of the situation hit him.

  Could Margaret die? He felt the muscles in his stomach tighten and fear rippled down his spine.

  “Mum’s a real fighter, she can beat this, I know she can,” Mia announced firmly.

  “I’ve arranged for the Chaplin to come up to see you shortly. We’re transferring Mrs. Dawson to a room where y
ou will be able to visit her.”

  “Is Margaret conscious? Will she recognize us?” Robert placed his arm around Mia as he asked the question.

  “She may be in and out of consciousness during the night,” the doctor answered.

  “What you’re saying is you don’t know what the outcome will be. That’s not good enough—I want answers.” Jonathan felt heat pour into his face and his lips stretched and tightened.

  Dr. Peterson nodded. “I understand your frustration, Mr. Dawson. These are difficult times for you. I am sorry but there is nothing more I can tell you. The nurse will page me if there are any changes.”

  Robert moved to Jonathan and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Come on, mate, they’ve done all they can. Cut the doc some slack.”

  Jonathan shoved Robert’s hand away and moved to the window. He felt like he was in a vacuum and the ability to think, speak or feel had been sucked out of him. He stood as if frozen, and his face stiffened against the pain.

  Chapter 9

  Night became Mia’s friend. Closing her eyes on the feeling of helplessness gave her a brief respite. She turned and looked at the bedside clock and sighed, 6:00 a.m. Each day that her mother lived Mia clung to the hope that she’d come out of the coma.

  Sitting up on her elbows, Mia braced herself. She felt clammy and slowly got out of bed.

  How would she manage if her mother died? She’d watched her father unravel this last week. He’d bump into things as if he hadn’t seen them and often he seemed oblivious to her presence. Mia was surprised by her concern for him.

  She showered, dressed and began the routine that helped her get through the day. Glancing at her watch, Mia saw it was 6:40 a.m. as she walked out the door. She missed her morning walks to work, but taking her car allowed her time to go up to the hospital during her lunch break.

  As the children arrived at the preschool Mia watched for Jenny. The little girl called out to another child and skipped off as she went to play.

  Mia smiled and spoke to a new boy who’d joined them yesterday. The morning went quickly and she was pleased she’d decided to keep working.