The Heart of Memory

by Alison Strobel

  CHAPTER 5

  SHAUN POPPED ANOTHER PRETZEL IN HIS MOUTH AS HE SAT AT the red light. They were stale, but washed down with water they weren’t too bad. He’d found them that morning in the back of the pantry, a forgotten snack from the Fourth of July picnic he and Jessie had thrown while Savannah had been on tour. Lately he’d been skipping both breakfast and lunch, but he’d worked up an appetite helping Jessie pack up her car that morning. She’d been torn on whether or not to go back to campus, but he’d insisted she leave, since they had no idea when a heart might become available. “No use sitting around here,” he’d said. “Might as well go and keep yourself busy.”

  He hadn’t admitted how jealous he was that she had somewhere to go, an excuse for not going up to the hospital every day to do nothing but read and watch TV while Savannah wasted away on the bed beside him. It was depressing, to be honest. Depressing and scary. When she was awake—which wasn’t often — she was confident God wasn’t ready to take her yet. He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear God had told her that himself. He could see in her eyes that she had changed, had tapped back into that connection with him that Shaun had never really had. He was a little jealous.

  The drive from A&A’s office, where he spent the mornings, to the hospital in Aurora took nearly an hour and a half. Savannah tried to talk him into getting a hotel room and working remotely, but he couldn’t bear to spend the money — though the gas wasn’t all that much cheaper. Instead, he did everything he needed to do in the mornings, foregoing business and staff meetings since he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, and then went to the hospital in the afternoon to wait for good news.

  He was late today, however. He’d left work at lunch, like always, then had headed for home to scrape together some lunch from what was left in the fridge and pantry. He’d been slowed by a funeral procession that crossed in front of him at a stoplight, and the view of the hearse was like a kick to the solar plexus.

  He’d been doing pretty well up until then. He had so much else to worry about—the medical bills, the fact that they had no savings, the email threats he was getting—that he’d been able to effectively lose himself in those issues and not confront the fact that his wife was dying. But as the gray car slid past him, his fear of losing Savannah and the pain he’d been burying erupted to the surface. As the slow parade of cars drove through the intersection, he choked out sobs that shook his whole body and left his throat raw.

  The uncorking of his emotions sent him into a tailspin. He couldn’t get a grip. A life without Savannah … it was unfathomable. No one could ever love him like Savannah did. And no one in the world was like her. No one made him laugh so hard or love so much. Everything he did was for her, and he liked it that way. And after twenty-two years of marriage, he still thought she was as sexy and beautiful as she’d been when they’d met in college. Without her, the capstone of his world was gone. Everything would crumble to dust.

  Once home, he stood in the shower and prayed aloud in the steam, alternately begging God for Savannah’s life and railing at him for the mess he found himself in. When the water went cold, he forced himself to dress and find food, though all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a week. He just had too much to face, too much to worry over and try to solve. Too much he could do nothing about. The thought of escape was bliss, though what form of escape he was unable to let himself ponder. Too many details and he might actually attempt it.

  Back at the hospital he pulled into the parking lot and checked his reflection in the rear view mirror. The shower had removed the outward traces of his breakdown, but he wondered if the ever-perceptive Savannah would see it in his eyes.

  He let himself daydream, as he crossed the blacktop to the hospital doors, about what it would be like when they finally got The Call. How hope would bring the light back to Savannah’s weary face, how he would be fully consumed — for the meantime, anyway — by the fact that his wife would soon be back to normal. He hadn’t thought much about what that day would be like. It actually made him smile.

  The one problem was that the good news they were hoping for would soon be irrelevant. With her condition declining at this rate, Savannah would eventually be too sick to withstand the stresses of the surgery. It was a race against time now, a race he didn’t usually acknowledge because the reality of it was too much to shoulder. He knew Savannah was convinced a heart would come in time, but God sure was cutting it close.

  He was halfway to the elevator when his phone dinged to alert him of an incoming email. He tapped a button, then glanced at the screen and nearly choked on a pretzel. No, no, no …

  He slumped against the wall and stared at his inbox, his stomach roiling with anxiety. He didn’t want to open the email, but he was afraid not to. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he muttered through clenched teeth. Did this woman not pay any attention to the news? Savannah’s story had been all over the local media this past week; certainly she knew what he was dealing with.

  Unless that’s the point— she knows she has me over a barrel.

  He shook his head and exited the email program, then pocketed the phone. It didn’t matter either way; he couldn’t do anything about it now.

  Savannah was actually awake when he arrived. He thought she looked a little better—not much, but a little — but it might have just been wishful thinking. “Hey, babe, sorry I’m late,” he said, then kissed her forehead as he prayed she didn’t see the worry in his face. “How’ve you been?”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Jessie gone?”

  “Left this morning, yes — but she made me promise to call her if we wanted her to come. She almost didn’t go, but I made her.” Savannah nodded her approval. “Can I do anything for you?”

  She shook her head. “Gonna sleep.”

  “Okay. I’ll be here until tonight, okay?”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes, and sleep seemed to take her immediately. He was jealous of that, too. Half his night was spent staring at the ceiling.

  Shaun reached into the bag where he’d stashed his book, sack dinner, and the mail from the last three days. He removed the latter, all rubber-banded together thanks to a conscientious Jessie. It had been piling up on the counter because he hadn’t had the energy to go through it, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. Might as well go through it now while Savannah slept.

  He threw out the sales flyers and business ads, then wasted some time thumbing through the Christian ministry magazine that came every month. He couldn’t concentrate on the articles, though he tried; really he just didn’t want to look at what was inside the envelopes that looked like bills. He looked at every article and even read the classifieds in the back before returning it to the bag and drawing a fortifying breath. It’s just mail, it can’t kill you. At least not directly.

  A new insurance card for the car. The gas bill—lower than usual. So far this wasn’t too bad.

  An envelope from their health insurance company. His shoulders sagged. He felt defeated already.

  He slowly ripped it open and pulled out the pages. Eight of them in all, filled front and back with a mess of confusing tables and codes and procedure names he couldn’t decipher. The last page ended with a total due to each provider. Their combined total had five digits before the decimal.

  His vision began to swim. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so devastated if he hadn’t gotten that email first. But now …

  “Babe?”

  Savannah’s voice startled him, despite how quiet it was. He sniffed, tried to blink away the tears standing in his eyes. “Hey, I thought you were sleeping.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, babe. I’m fine.” He gave her a smile, but she shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, seriously. I’m just … tired. I’m sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to.”

  She lifted a hand and he took it in his own. Her eyes were bright despite the r
est of her face looking so drawn. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I know you will. I believe you.”

  “Believe God.”

  He hated that his gut reaction was one of cynicism. “I do, babe. You’re going to be fine. Everything is going to work out, I know.”

  She smiled and her eyes drifted shut. He waited until her hand was limp in his, then lowered it back to the bed.

  He wanted so badly to believe what he’d said. He wanted to trust that God had a plan that involved Savannah recovering and Shaun winning the lottery, or discovering buried treasure behind the trees in their backyard, or anything that would allow him to finally get out from under the crushing financial struggle that was sucking both him and their bank account dry. But all he felt was despair, and no amount of praying seemed to help.

  JESSIE FELT LIKE A POSTER CHILD FOR MURPHY’S LAW.

  She’d been back on campus for less than 24 hours, and it had been one lousy break after another. For obvious reasons Shaun hadn’t been able to help her move in, so she’d been stuck moving her belongings herself. That in and of itself wouldn’t have been too bad, but because so many others were vying for the moving carts and the elevators were so packed, it had taken her way longer than she’d had time for, given all the details that still needed to be dealt with for the freshman dinner. Then she’d made the mistake of stacking too much on the cart once she got one, and a bump in the sidewalk had sent her desktop computer crashing to the pavement. The accidental damage insurance would take care of it; but she’d have to find time to file the claim—and until that was all sorted she was without her music or internet or email.

  With so much time taken up with moving in, she’d had no time to start getting her room in order before having to abandon it for the dinner prep. That meant she had no idea where the shoes were that matched the outfit she’d planned on wearing that night, or where her bathroom caddy was so she could shower before the evening’s event. And apparently she had “customer service representative” tattooed on her forehead, because any time she ventured outside her room she got stopped by a freshman or parent asking her questions she had no idea how to answer. The resident advisor still hadn’t arrived, and as one of the few upperclassmen in the dorm, she was like a beacon to all the new students who were trying to figure out how to get their beds de-bunked or their computers set up to the internet.

  And as if all that weren’t enough to stress her out, her mother was going to die and no one wanted to admit it.

  Savannah’s decline since her admittance to the hospital had been frighteningly quick. Jessie had gone back to say goodbye the day before, and her mother had been so weak she could barely hold a conversation. It had only been a handful of days since Jessie had brought Savannah’s laptop to the hospital in the Springs. It was hard to believe someone could deteriorate that fast. It was harder to believe they’d then be able to recover.

  And yet Shaun — and Savannah herself — seemed convinced that she would. Jessie wanted to believe them, and to have the same faith they did, but she was unable to muster the confidence they seemed to share. So she checked her phone obsessively to make sure she hadn’t missed a text or call, and found herself unable to concentrate on anything for long before her thoughts turned to funeral plans and wondering how she’d handle the grief once the inevitable occurred.

  Jessie shook the dark thoughts from her head and consulted her checklist. Tablecloths — check. Centerpieces — check. Decorations … She looked around the gym for the box Adam was to have dropped off. She didn’t see it. She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted him, then checked the next item on the list. Sundae bar items. She groaned aloud. She’d forgotten to confirm the sundae bar with The Sweet Shoppe.

  Their contact info wasn’t in her phone or on her checklist. Berating herself with mumbled insults, she dropped the checklist on a nearby table and headed for her dorm room.

  On the sidewalk outside her dorm’s front door stood a new student and her parents. Tears glistened on all their faces, and she ducked her head in embarrassment when they engaged in a family hug that brought a lump to her throat. As she passed them she overheard the father praying aloud and saw the girl’s head resting on her mother’s shoulder.

  Nothing like when I moved in. Savannah had spent more time talking to people who recognized her from her books and speaking tours than she had with helping Jessie move in. Granted she was less than an hour from home and they all knew they’d see each other often, but not even the milestone of beginning college had created a soft spot in Savannah’s heart. After her boxes had been moved in they’d gone to dinner, where Savannah had dominated the conversation with unsolicited advice about time management and not-so-subtle hints at the kinds of classes she thought Jessie should take.

  When the time had come for her parents to leave, she’d gotten a giant hug from Shaun—who also pressed a wad of cash into her hand — and a peck on the cheek from Savannah when she took a break from the list she’d been dictating of activities she thought Jessie should check into. It would have been different if Jessie could have written off the behavior as her mother’s attempt to control her emotions over the thought of her baby girl growing up and moving on in life, but she’d known Savannah too well to even pretend that was the reason. It had been just another example of Savannah wanting to steer Jessie the way she thought she should go, and not taking into account the fact that Jessie had no interest in writing for the school newspaper or trying to join the honor society.

  Jessie turned her back on the family whose experience highlighted the deficiencies of her own and swiped her card to unlock the door. She kept her head down and avoided making eye contact with the people who swarmed through the hall as she pushed her way through to her room. Once there, she grabbed the folder of freshman dinner info from her desk and looked up the number for The Sweet Shoppe. She called and asked the employee who answered to confirm the ice cream and toppings delivery for that evening.

  “Gosh … I’m sorry. I don’t see that order in our computer. When did you say this event was?”

  “Know what? Never mind.” Jessie hung up the phone, flopped to her bed, and cried.

  SAVANNAH AWOKE TO FAMILIAR VOICES. It took a moment for her to get her eyes open, but by the time she did she was already smiling. “Hey,” she croaked.

  “Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens!” Mary gave Savannah a gentle hug, then frowned. “Okay, so, I had no idea you weren’t eating anything anymore. The nurse just told me. That really sucks — I brought brownies.”

  Savannah smiled. “Make more … when I’m better … and I’ll forgive you.”

  Colleen held up a stack of DVD cases. “Shaun said you were sleeping a lot, but we brought these just in case you find yourself awake and bored. All the good ones are here—Sleepless in Seattle, Shakespeare in Love, When Harry Met Sally, and Dirty Dancing.“

  “Just don’t, you know, get any ideas,” said Bethany, waving a hand to the machines beside the bed. “All those cords and tubes would really get in the way.”

  Andi took Savannah’s hand. “Listen, just let us know if you need peace and quiet. Or just take a nap when you want to and we can stick around until you’re awake again. We don’t want to impose, we just wanted to see you and pray with you and make sure you knew we were all here for you.”

  “Love you all … you’re angels.”

  “Let’s pray now—get the important stuff out of the way,” Mary said with a grin.

  Savannah didn’t dare close her eyes, for fear she’d fall asleep. She stared instead at each of the women holding hands around her bed, their eyes closed and heads bowed as they interceded for her and Shaun. She was moved beyond words by their faithful friendship and sacrifice — she knew how long that drive was from the Springs — and as they spoke over her she thanked God for them and prayed that this ordeal would end in a way that encouraged everyone in their faith.

  When they finished, Colleen began straightening the stack of cards and letters from fans
that Shaun had brought a few days ago and now cluttered the bedside table. “So, are you really okay with visitors right now? Or do you want to sleep?”

  “No sleeping,” she said. “Later. Tell me … what’s up.”

  “What’s up, let’s see …” She began to regale Savannah with a dramatic retelling of the senior lunch she and Mary had helped host at church for the retirees. “I swear, I will get Alfred Collins and Helen Grable together by Christmas.”

  “Girl, there’s got to be a better way to spend your time than playing matchmaker with senior citizens,” Bethany said with a laugh.

  “They’d be … cute together,” Savannah said.

  “See? Savannah agrees with me.”

  “Savannah is not operating on all cylinders.”

  Savannah gave a minute shrug. “She’s right.”

  “Any news on when those cylinders might all be up and running?”

  She shook her head. “When God’s … good and ready.”

  Mary pulled a knitting project from a bag at her feet and began to unwind purple yarn. “Alex has been trying to get ahold of Shaun to go out for breakfast or something, but Shaun hasn’t returned his calls. How is he doing?”

  Shaun hadn’t mentioned this to her, though she wasn’t surprised. “Not well. It’s hard on him … all the driving … me like this. I think he’s scared.”

  “I would be too, if it were me. I just wish he’d get together with Alex so he could go vent, or play golf, or whatever it is men do to feel better.”

  “I’ll tell him … to call … but you know Shaun … he’s private.”

  “Yeah, I know. But still. He needs someone to talk to through all of this, someone that isn’t you.”

  “I wanted to organize some meals for him and Jessie,” said Bethany. “Or is Jessie back at school now?”