Silent Pledge

by Hannah Alexander

  But he shouldn’t think like that. Hepatitis wasn’t that big a deal. The disease could be treated.

  The doorknob turned, and the door swung open on silent hinges, and Theodore gripped the edges of the exam bed. Dr. Robert Simeon strode in, serious and brisk as always. Intimidating. The room grew smaller.

  “Hello, Theodore.” He placed the clipboard with Theo’s vitals on the desk in the corner, then turned around to shake hands. He was about two inches taller than Theo, with thinning brown hair and lines of permanent worry creased into his forehead. His dress clothes were unwrinkled, unstained, his hands well manicured.

  “Hello, Robert. Thanks for fitting me in today.” Theo spread his hands to indicate the gown he wore. “I’m not sure what this is all about.”

  Robert pulled a chair across from the desk where he could sit a comfortable arm’s length from Theodore. He was a busy internist. Busy internists didn’t sit down, did they?

  “Theodore, I’ll get straight to the point.” He gestured toward the clipboard on the desk, and the worry lines deepened. “Both blood tests were positive for hepatitis B. Since you have no symptoms at this time, it’s possible the disease is chronic. You could have had it for some time.”

  “But how did I get hepatitis?” Theo asked. He’d been wondering how he had contracted it ever since he’d received the first positive results in the mail. “Even more important, could I have passed it to someone else? What if Mercy or Tedi contracted it from me?”

  “Very unlikely after this much time,” Robert assured him. “It’s been what…six years since the divorce? We’re talking about a difficult virus to transmit. Of course, Mercy and Tedi might want to be tested as a precaution. Is Mercy aware of this situation?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t want to worry her.” As soon as he knew everything would be okay, he would tell her.

  “I understand. My thoughts are this—” Robert leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of his face “—you were incarcerated for several months during your treatment last summer. Close, continued contact with an infected…inmate…would increase the likelihood that you would have contracted the disease. ”

  Theodore shook his head. “The treatment center wasn’t like a prison. I didn’t spend a lot of time with my roommates.”

  Robert hesitated only for a few seconds. “There are other possibilities. Drug users—”

  “No, I never injected drugs.”

  Robert leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. His gaze caught and held Theo’s, but trying to read the emotion behind those observant eyes was difficult. He said quietly, pointedly, “Intimate physical contact with an infected person can spread the disease.”

  There was a sudden, intense silence, and Theodore felt his face burn with shame at the impact of too many memories. Dr. Robert Simeon, as well as the majority of Knolls, probably knew about the women, both before and after the divorce from Mercy. Theodore had made no effort to keep secrets—why should he? In his mind at the time, being discreet wasn’t a high priority. In fact, he’d been proud of his conquests, eager to flaunt them in Mercy’s face, eager to pay her back for not putting him first in her life.

  Now he was exposed in every way. “That’s possible,” he said in defeat. His shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hands, and once again, as he had many times these past few months, he hated the Theodore Zimmerman who’d lived for himself for forty years. He hated the humiliation he had brought on his family.

  “When was the last?” Robert’s voice came gently.

  Theodore rubbed his eyes and forced his shoulders to straighten. He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. “In the spring of last year, so it’s been over nine or ten months. Julie’s married now, and she lives here in town. Do you think she could have it?”

  “It could have been any one of them. This disease is unpredictable. There have been none since then?”

  “No one since then.” And no one again. He couldn’t risk passing this to someone else.

  The worry lines deepened further in Robert’s forehead. “Theodore, since you’ve reported no symptoms of acute infection, there’s obviously been no treatment. Several things concern me at this juncture—the most obvious being your history of alcohol dependence.” He stood from his chair and pushed it out of the way on silent wheels. “I need to check for tenderness around the liver, and possibly even a mass. Have you had any recent weight loss?”

  Theodore tried to catch his breath. “Some. Why? What do you think is wrong?”

  “Chronic hepatitis B can have several complications, and they affect the liver. Unfortunately, with your alcoholism, you can be in danger of cirrhosis, possibly even hepatocellular carcinoma.”

  The words took a moment to connect in his mind. “Carcinoma.” No, this couldn’t be. He was too young. “You mean cancer.”

  “Yes. I would like to do a physical exam to see if I can detect inflammation, but what I really need is a blood test for alpha-fetoprotein. If that shows me anything, then I may want to do a biopsy.”

  “Biopsy.” Theodore cringed. This was serious. Suddenly the fear of needles seemed like a childhood phobia. They were talking carcinomas and biopsies. He lay back on the exam bed and stared at the ceiling, grimacing when Dr. Simeon palpated his abdomen. There was pain. Robert frowned. Theodore prayed harder than he had since he first realized what a mess he’d made of his life.

  Clarence was just checking on the frozen cookie supply when the swinging door at the far end of the kitchen slid open with a breath of silent hinges. He slammed the freezer shut and turned around guiltily, bracing himself for Ivy’s impending wrath.

  Instead, he saw Delphi Bell come to a startled stop beside the far counter, the dark bruises on her face caught in the strong rays of morning sunlight that filtered through the kitchen window.

  He lumbered backward. “Lady, you like to’ve scared me out of my shoes!”

  Her shoulders hunched forward protectively. She ducked and started to back away, her clean shoulder-length brown hair catching in the shafts of sunlight. “Sorry. I thought Mrs. Richmond was in here, she told me to come.”

  “No, no, that’s okay, Delphina.” Man, she was like a timid pet that had been struck once too often. “I just thought you were Ivy, and if she ever catches me touching her cookies, she’ll lower my food rations.” Keep talking. Don’t scare her away. “I guess you’ve noticed I’m not exactly a fashion model. Ivy’s tryin’ to help me get a few hundred inches off my waistline, and I keep foiling her plans. But, hey, I’m not a total failure. I’ve lost about a hundred pounds.”

  Delphi stepped once more into the light, watching him with curious eyes the color of pale winter cedar. She may be wounded and skittish, but she wasn’t broken. Her gaze never centered anywhere for a long period of time, but she gave the impression that she was storing away information to take out later and study. She wasn’t really pretty, with her long, narrow, bruised face. She might be if she smiled, but Clarence couldn’t imagine her with a smile on her face.

  “Have you eaten yet?” he asked. When she shook her head, he asked, “Why don’t I fix you some breakfast? That way I’ll have an excuse for being in the kitchen when Ivy comes to find you. Go ahead and sit over there at the counter on one of those bar stools. I could use a bite myself, and I know a great egg recipe. You like eggs?”

  She hesitated a moment longer, still studying him. Then some of the tension left her face. “Yeah, I like eggs. Won’t Mrs. Richmond mind if we get into her stuff?”

  “Probably.” He opened the fridge and took out a carton of eggs.

  He saw how the red-and-gray-striped shirt of Ivy’s fit Delphi too snugly around her thick middle. “Maybe you could go on the diet with me, or…oh, hey, you’re not pregnant, are you?” He remembered too late what had happened last time he’d asked a fat woman if she was pregnant. “Oh, boy, sorry about that, Delphina, I didn’t mean…”

  And then it happened. As he watched her, a brief flash of humor
lit her haunted eyes. A smile didn’t reach her mouth, of course; that was too much to ask. But the atmosphere changed in the room. Some of her tense watchfulness eased, as if maybe she realized Clarence wasn’t the kind of guy to hurt anybody. As if maybe she knew he just wanted to be a friend.

  “I’m not pregnant. Wouldn’t want a kid of mine linked up with a daddy like—” She broke off and took the stool at the counter, then looked down at her chunky paunch. “A waitress never hurts for food.”

  “Well, don’t worry about that. Ivy’ll whip you into shape soon enough. You don’t have that much to lose.”

  “Won’t be time to lose it, though.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “If you knew Abner Bell, you wouldn’t be askin’.”

  “You’re not going back to him, are you?”

  She shook her head, and her shoulders slumped again. “I’d rather die.”

  “Then what—”

  “He’ll find me.” Her tone was so calm, so matter-of-fact. She looked up at Clarence. “He holds on to me like a pit bull holds on to a cat. You say you can cook?”

  He leaned against the counter in alarm. “What makes you think he’ll find you? He doesn’t know where you are.”

  “Hide’n watch. He’ll hunt me down sooner or later. He’s mean, but he’s smart. He knows how to work people, and he keeps his eyes open. This time I don’t plan to hang around till he shows up.”

  Clarence pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard and sprayed some no-stick spray into it. As he cooked the eggs, he thought about what Delphi said. He knew she was scared, and he didn’t blame her.

  “You just hang around me, Delphi,” he said at last. “Your husband’s a bully, and most bullies are cowards around anybody bigger than them. You just hang with me.”

  “He has a large caliber gun,” Delphi said. “That makes him bigger than anybody.”

  “Not bigger than the police,” Clarence assured her. But suddenly this hiding-out stuff wasn’t as much fun.

  Lauren came back into the makeshift emergency room with a lab printout. She laid it on the corner of a supply rack. “Dr. Mercy, we’ve got the results back on the bloods tests you ordered. Normal.”

  Normal was what Mercy expected. “Thank you, Lauren. And thank you for staying. Air Care should be here anytime, so why don’t you escape for lunch?”

  Lauren hesitated at the doorway, her expression hesitant, green eyes still alert—obviously leftover adrenaline surge. The pretty blonde was thoroughly professional and thoroughly efficient when they had emergencies to deal with.

  Mercy glanced at her watch, then at her peacefully resting patient. “Better get out of here while you can, Lauren, at least for a little break.” Their afternoon flow of patients would start in a few moments, and extras had already called, begging to be squeezed in. Typical Friday.

  “Okay, but just a short one.” Lauren checked on Kendra one more time, then walked out.

  Mercy had sent Connie and Dan away ten minutes ago, praising them for a job well done. Buck continued to hover over his wife, holding her hand, murmuring assurances to her. Her temperature had dropped to a manageable one hundred degrees. The rigidity in her muscles had eased with the aid of the IV drugs, and her heart rate and respiratory rate had dropped with her blood pressure, all returning to normal levels.

  Mercy knew the reaction could hit again at any time, as long as the offending chemical lingered in Kendra’s body. She also knew Buck would catch any symptoms the minute anything changed. She stepped over to sit down beside Lukas, who had been beside her throughout, helping with vitals, administering drugs, reassuring Kendra and Buck. Never once had he questioned Mercy’s actions. Not once had he tried to take control.

  Suddenly she thought about his news earlier. He would be coming down soon to help her, and she felt the sweet peace of anticipation settle over her like a comforter. She laid a hand on his arm and smiled at him.

  “It’s going to be great to have you back, partner.”

  He looked at her, and his earnest blue eyes remained serious. He didn’t reply.

  “Lukas? Is everything okay?”

  Before he could reply, she heard the familiar echo of the blades beating the atmosphere. Almost in unison, she heard Loretta greet their first afternoon patient.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The scent of cold lasagna and warm triple-death chocolate dessert greeted Mercy as she entered her office ahead of Lukas two hours later. Her stomach protested in hunger and she craved the chocolate, but she wanted to sleep come bedtime. Lately even a taste of caffeine in the middle of the afternoon could keep her awake half the night. What she craved more than anything right now was time alone with Lukas.

  She stepped aside and let him enter. Then she closed the door behind him. “I owe you one, Lukas. If you hadn’t helped me catch up, I’d still have a waiting room full of patients. How do you like stale Italian food?”

  Lukas didn’t look at her. “I can’t stay long.” His voice sounded suddenly tense again, as it had before Kendra arrived.

  “Neither can I. You know how many walk-ins we get on Friday. We’ll eat it cold.” She set out the food and plastic ware from Antonio’s, watching Lukas circle the room like a man looking for a way out of a jail cell. In spite of his nervousness, she drank in the sight of him and noticed the flexing of muscles in his jaw as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.

  “Come on, Lukas, you can take time to eat something. I bet you didn’t even have breakfast this morning, did you?”

  He grimaced.

  “Didn’t think so. You don’t want to pass out from starvation while you’re driving back.” She nudged a container of lasagna toward the end of her desk and sat down, gesturing for him to join her.

  Instead, his gaze circled the room and fell to rest for a moment on the picture she kept of him on her desk. He looked back at her, then away again.

  “I could heat the food for you,” she said.

  “No, thanks.”

  She felt a tingle of irritation. If he had a problem, why didn’t he just blurt it out? That was what he usually did. Why was he suddenly so silent?

  The tension stretched between them for another moment, and she heard Lauren ushering a patient down the hallway to an exam room. The afternoon would fill up quickly. They were running out of time.

  She had to explain some things to him before he left. He deserved to know what was going on in her life, and in her heart. “Lukas, we’re having a Bible study at church on Wednesday nights. In spite of my schedule, I’ve been trying to attend as much as possible. I wish I hadn’t.”

  He turned to her, caught off guard by surprise. “Why?”

  “Because the last one—through which I slept—had a lot to say about divorce.” There. Now she had his attention. He took a step toward her, expression tense again. “Imagine my surprise,” she continued, “when I discovered that—at least according to some people—not only am I expected to forgive my ex-husband, now I’m supposed to remarry him.” She’d rehashed the entire concept over and over in her mind, and still she felt her resentment building. She watched Lukas’s gaze waver, and then his shoulders slumped and he walked over and sat beside her.

  “And that isn’t something you want?” he asked softly.

  Her resentment peaked. “Of course not!” She caught her voice on its spiral and lowered it. “I thought you knew me better than that. I thought you understood how I felt about him. How could you even ask—”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.” The tension in him appeared to melt, and the light sparked once more in his eyes. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “Mercy, why are you suddenly letting someone else tell you how to live your life? You’ve never done that before.”

  “I’ve never been a Christian before, either.” Her resentment disappeared as quickly as it had attacked her. “You’re the one who’s always spouting about the need to do God’s will. I can’t live my life for myself any longer, and I don’t want to. I want to do the r
ight thing.”

  “And you think that’s remarrying Theodore?”

  “How am I supposed to know? I haven’t read the Bible all my life, like you have, or like most of the people in the Bible study class.” She dropped her voice. “Lauren seems to think I should—”

  “Lauren?” Lukas exclaimed. “Since when do you listen to her?”

  Mercy shushed him and gestured toward the door. “Our voices carry.”

  “Good, then Lauren will learn it’s time to try to mind her own business—again.” The heat in his voice reached around Mercy and warmed her. He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “This is between you and God. It’s nobody else’s business. Lauren doesn’t have a right to tell you to return to a painful relationship just because she reads the Bible a certain way.”

  “But that was the way the pastor taught the lesson.”

  “How do you know? You said you were asleep.”

  In spite of the subject, Mercy couldn’t help smiling, and Lukas smiled back. Impulsively she leaned forward and hugged him. He slowly, tentatively, raised an arm and placed it across her back. She didn’t let go. Instead, she rested her forehead on his shoulder. His other arm came around her, and she basked in the warmth of his closeness, in the joy of hope.

  She knew better than to trust in emotions, but being held by him felt so good, so right. He had an undeniable power in him that drew her. The Spirit in him had always drawn her, and the love he had for God. He was the one who had first brought her face-to-face with the reality of God and had caused her to recognize the need within her for that same God. And, she’d argued with herself since Wednesday night, if Theo also had the same Spirit of Christ in him, and God wanted her to return to him, why wasn’t she drawn to him?