“I get so confused sometimes, Lukas.”
His embrace tightened around her shoulders. “I know. I do, too.” His baritone voice was soothing. “But usually I get confused when I try to second-guess God’s next move, when I forget that He’s busy working in the present of my life, and not just the future. That’s when I have to learn, all over again, to wait on Him. It isn’t because He’s slow and can’t keep up with me, but it’s because I still have something to learn from the situation I’m in. He’s so patient, Mercy. Be patient with Him, and with yourself. Give yourself some time. Wait on God.”
Mercy basked in the flow of his words. Was it possible that everything could be so simple?
Voices reached them from the hallway once again. Another patient. They were getting busy, and time was passing. Lukas had to go soon.
“Lukas, I want to do God’s will. At the same time I’m praying that remarriage to Theo isn’t in His plans for me. Is that sacrilege?”
“No. In Gethsemane, Jesus prayed that he wouldn’t have to go to the cross.”
“But He went anyway.”
“And I think He knew He would have to, but still He shared His heart with God, just as you are doing.”
“But I don’t see how I could go through with remarrying him.” She raised her head and looked into Lukas’s blue eyes and saw the tenderness there. She could not force herself to draw away from his comfort and his touch. What if this was her last chance to spend time like this with Lukas? What if he, too, decided that she and Theodore belonged together because of Tedi? What if he’d already decided? What if…?
“Lukas, why have you stayed away for so long?” She asked the question on impulse, and she felt him go still, heard his breathing stop for a moment. She knew the answer from his silence. “For the past few months I believe God has been doing something very special between you and me.” She watched his eyes and caught a brief glimpse of longing before he closed them and drew back. And she knew she wasn’t jumping to conclusions. She knew Lukas too well. God had allowed them to spend that much time together, to learn each other’s thoughts. God had allowed that.
“In fact,” she continued, “I believe that ever since you and I met, He has been leading us in that direction.”
Lukas opened his eyes and looked at her a long moment. He nodded, and she felt the joy swell inside her.
“And so,” she continued, “even though God may be telling me to wait on Him, I don’t think it’s wrong for me to be honest, to share my heart with Him, and tell Him that I love you. If Jesus could admit His reluctance to go to the cross—an act that was necessary to pay for our sins, to cancel our estrangement from God—then we can admit anything to Him. I’m telling Him, and I’m telling you, that I love you, Lukas.”
Without taking his gaze from her face, he sighed and stood up. He reached down and drew her to her feet, and then he pulled her against him in a tight grip that enveloped her and sang through her whole body.
“And God knows I love you, Mercy,” he said softly into her hair. “I want what’s best for you, and for Tedi, and I know that isn’t my decision to make. I just know what I want it to be.”
More voices reached them from the hallway, and then a discreet knock. “Dr. Mercy?” came Lauren’s hesitant voice.
“Yes, Lauren, I’ll be out shortly.” Duty called. She drew back and looked once more into his eyes, and she saw the promise there—the reassurance that he loved her enough to do what was right for her. And she knew that was a reflection of God’s love. It was enough.
On impulse she kissed him, and he returned the kiss in a reflection of all the love she felt for him. In that kiss, the promise was repeated. She would be able to trust.
Lukas found his copy of the contract with Herald Hospital as soon as he arrived for his Friday evening shift. He faxed it to Estelle with the promise that he would talk with Mr. Amos. He compiled a concise one-page letter to Mr. Amos with his resignation, explaining the conflicts and taking responsibility for them.
Saturday morning when his shift ended he drove to the drugstore in downtown Herald and purchased a greeting card for Mercy. It was the first of its kind he had ever sent, and he signed, stamped and addressed the card before he could change his mind. The front of the card was decorated with roses, and in the center were printed the words, You are so special to me. The inside was blank, and he had written, Mercy, I’m praying for you. I’m also praying for us. I can’t say for sure what God’s will is right now, and that is because I know what I want so very much for it to be, and I’m trying hard not to confuse my will with His. Please don’t make any hasty decisions, and I’ll try hard not to pressure you. Love, Lukas.
He dropped the card in a mailbox on his way home and then wondered at his own audacity. Had he done the wrong thing? By just sending the card, was he attempting to influence her?
At one o’clock Saturday afternoon, Mercy refolded her napkin and placed it next to the fine china on the table at the Victorian. “Theodore, that was wonderful. Thank you for the treat.” A waiter appeared silently at her side and refilled her water glass, then stepped over to refill Tedi’s, then Theo’s. The Victorian was the most expensive restaurant in the county. Theodore had obviously decided to use some of the money he had saved for Branson.
This refurbished old home had several dining rooms, each with its own individual, elegant decor and colors. Their table was set in an alcove overlooking a tiny indoor garden that thrived amongst rocks and waterfalls.
Theodore thanked the waiter and picked up his water glass. This was his fourth refill. There was something on his mind, some tension in his behavior. Was he simply craving more than water, or was he upset about something else?
“I heard Jack’s wife talking about this place at work,” he said. His voice carried the tension. “You know Marty, don’t you? She says this place has the best food in the area. I think she’s right. Tedi, don’t you want some dessert?”
Tedi looked at him curiously. “No, thanks, Dad. I’m stuffed.”
“Mercy? You neither?”
Mercy shook her head and turned to study Theo’s face more closely. That was the second time he had asked them about dessert. He had unfolded and refolded his napkin at least three times, and there were beads of perspiration on his forehead in spite of the fact that the room was a little cool.
“No, thank you. That was a very filling meal. Theodore, is everything okay? Are you feeling well?”
He put his water glass down quickly, looked across the table at Tedi, then back at Mercy. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You barely ate half your salmon.”
“Yeah, Dad, and you didn’t even ask for a doggie bag,” Tedi said. “You always do that.”
Mercy thought about her talk with Lukas yesterday, and suddenly Theodore’s discomfort transmitted itself to her. Was he trying to gather the courage to make some kind of a declaration? Or maybe that wasn’t his intention at all. Just this week he had discovered that his own daughter was still afraid to spend time alone with him. That had to be bothering him. She knew how much that kind of distrust would hurt him. Maybe she just needed to tell him to quit trying so hard.
Impulsively she laid a hand on his arm and felt the muscles tense beneath her fingers. “Thank you,” she said again.
He jerked his head in a nod, cleared his throat, picked up his glass for another sip of water. “Um, actually, I may not be feeling that great.” He took another sip and set the glass down.
The waiter materialized beside him with the check, and Theo opted to pay him immediately. While he was distracted, Tedi bumped Mercy’s leg under the table and rolled her eyes, as if to say, “What’s bugging Dad?”
As they stepped out the front entrance of the restaurant, Mercy turned to him. “Thank you again, Theodore. I’ve always wanted to try this place, and I just never seemed to have the time for a leisurely meal. This worked out perfectly.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to the office for a few minutes
. I want to check on a couple of patients. Why don’t we drive you home?”
He hesitated, and Mercy noticed a slight pallor of his complexion. Maybe he really wasn’t feeling well. It was flu season, and she’d had countless patients in this week with strep and bad colds, even a couple of cases of pneumonia.
“I think I’ll walk,” he said.
Tedi nudged Mercy’s arm, then stepped toward Theodore. “May I walk with you, Dad? Mom can pick me up at your apartment later.”
Mercy and Theo stared at her in surprise, and an expression of joy crossed Theodore’s face. “Are you sure? I thought you didn’t—”
“I’m sure.” She stepped forward and took her dad’s hand. “I just had to have time to think about it.”
Theo looked up at Mercy, and she couldn’t miss the spark of wonder and relief in his eyes. At last Tedi had taken that first step back toward trust.
Sunday afternoon at Ivy’s house, Mercy volunteered to help her mother with kitchen duty. It was the only way she was going to catch Mom alone. While Clarence entertained Tedi, Darlene and Delphi in the family room with fat jokes and diet tips, Mercy stood at the sink and chopped eggplant, zucchini and yellow squash for a stir-fry.
“That’s a new knife, so don’t cut yourself.” Ivy stirred some brown rice into a pot of boiling water on the stove.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“So what’s up?”
Mom was right. The knife sliced through the eggplant like water. “Does anything have to be ‘up’ for me to spend time with you?”
“No, but since you chased Clarence out of the kitchen with the threat of violence, I thought you might have a reason.”
“I didn’t threaten violence. I threatened to haul him down to the office to weigh him if he ate any more snacks before lunch.”
“For him, that’s violence. What’s up?”
“I’m taking an opinion poll.” Mercy cut the ends off the zucchini and chopped it, peeling and all. “Do you think I should remarry Theodore?”
“No. Next question?”
“That’s it? No discussion?”
“What’s to discuss? You’re going to marry Lukas and live happily ever after.” Ivy stirred the rice and cast her daughter a look of sympathy. “Been listening to the gossip, have you?”
“What gossip?”
“The usual. Seems like half the town was suddenly at the Wednesday night Bible study, and the other half was driving by afterward when you and Theo had a long heart-to-heart talk on the way to your car.”
Mercy plunged the point of the paring knife into the yellow squash all the way up to the hilt. “Why should I be surprised?” she muttered.
“Beats me. You’ve grown up here. Too bad I missed the Bible study, though, because I could’ve given Dr. Joseph Jordan and those interfering busybodies my interpretation of the Scriptures—I tell you, he’s a good pastor, but he’s too young. No experience. Give me a man at least in his forties if you want solid, experienced teach—”
“What’s your interpretation?”
“Well, I know what I think isn’t exactly a popular teaching, but according to Leviticus, Theo should be dead right now.”
“You didn’t happen to write your own version of the Bible, did you?”
“Honey, I’ve been a Christian almost six years now, and because of your situation I’m studied up on divorce and remarriage. In the Old Testament, a person who committed adultery was stoned to death. So if Theodore was living with the Israelites in the desert, he’d have been dead six or seven years ago. That means you’d be a widow, and Tedi would be an orphan. According to the apostle Paul, young widows should remarry to keep out of trouble.” Mom shrugged. “Works for me.”
Mercy shook her head at her mother’s “interpretation.” Then she finished her chopping, rinsed her hands and set the knife down carefully. Mom certainly didn’t mince words. Suddenly Mercy felt her mother’s arms come around her from behind in a gentle embrace.
“Have you asked God what to do?” Ivy asked.
“Yes.”
“Then wait for His answer. He will give it to you, heart to heart. And don’t forget how much He loves you and Tedi.”
The warmth of Mom’s breath and the assurance of love in her voice made tears prick Mercy’s eyes. And God loved her more than that. How many times would she have to remind herself?
“Don’t compare God to your earthly dad, Mercy.”
“It’s hard not to,” Mercy said. “I used to see God as this big, controlling person who could suddenly lash out at me in anger at any moment. I guess I still see Him that way sometimes.”
“He isn’t like that. He’ll protect you. Trust Him.”
Theodore Zimmerman sat in Dr. Robert Simeon’s office Monday afternoon, this time with his clothes on. He faced the doctor across the wide oak desk. He’d learned not to panic at the worry lines that framed Robert’s strong, even features, because by now he knew those frown lines appeared every time the man was concentrating.
“The numbers are high,” Robert said, passing a sheet of faxed paper across the broad desk and pointing to the test results.
Theodore looked at the paper. “What does that mean?”
“Alpha-fetoprotein is, as the name implies, an enzyme that should not be found in the human body after birth. Its presence signifies that something in your body is growing at a fast rate, as a fetus would grow. When we find high levels such as yours, we look for tumors.”
Theodore realized that this time he should have panicked. “You mean cancer.”
“Yes. I would like to do an ultrasound on your liver to see if we can find evidence of a mass. If we do find something, our next step will be a liver biopsy, and then a metastatic workup to see if the tumor has spread.”
“Wait.” Theo caught his breath, willing his heart not to pound out of his chest. “Robert, what you’re saying is that I really do have cancer? Liver cancer?” Just like that, he’d gone from a healthy man getting his life together after forty years to a man with death lurking in his body?
Robert bit his lip in worrisome concentration for a few seconds. He leaned forward, as if he might somehow be able to focus a sense of comfort across the broad expanse of his desk. “I don’t want to make a final analysis at this point. I know how stressful it is to wait on news like this, but there are other tests, taken in stages, that will be more conclusive. I’m sorry if I seem to be rushing you, but I always attack suspected cancer aggressively. Time is important here, but so is a systematic, sensible approach.”
Theodore forced himself to speak. “What do we do next?”
“I want to set you up for an abdominal ultrasound immediately. Now. Today. Afterward, if that shows a mass, I want to refer you to a friend of mine in Springfield, Dr. Walt Huffman, who is a gastroenterologist. He will do a biopsy. I spoke with him this morning, and he is willing to take you on short notice, possibly on Wednesday.”
“Whoa! Wait a minute, Robert.” Theodore felt as if the breath had just been knocked from his lungs. “That fast? Couldn’t you do the biopsy before you refer me to Springfield?”
“Yes, but if the ultrasound shows a mass I’ll have to refer you anyway. Springfield has a lot more experience with liver biopsies.”
“So you already expect to find a mass.”
“I have you scheduled at the hospital for an ultrasound in thirty minutes.” Robert looked at his watch. “Twenty-five.” He leaned forward on his elbows, his expression grim. “Then we’ll know for sure. If this is cancer it can be a vicious enemy, Theodore. I told you I want to be aggressive. It’s the only way we can fight. Do I have your permission to proceed?”
Theodore thought about Saturday afternoon with Tedi—it had been his first quality time alone with her in many months. He wanted more times like that. Many more times. “Yes. I want to go for it.”
At two o’clock Tuesday morning Clarence sat in the center of Ivy’s sturdy sofa in the family room, switching channels mindlessly on the only tel
evision in the house. For his own safety, he left the volume on mute. Besides, he’d watched TV at this hour enough times that he knew the pitches by heart. He could choose between the Home Shopping Network—“Oh, sure, I’ve got that kind of money to spend on a set of mixing bowls”—or the Fitness Channel. Oh, and there was the Cooking Channel, where pork fat rules. “I’ll show you some pork fat,” he muttered. He hit the button again and discovered a couple of kids who couldn’t be more than twenty, wearing spandex and smiles, swearing how their new little box of wheels and bars could melt off the tummy in five minutes a day without dieting.
Clarence grabbed a pillow and threw it at the set—after all, they were called throw pillows, weren’t they? How did these people live with themselves? They couldn’t be naive enough to believe all their own hype, could they?
From out of the shadows past the set, there was movement, and a figure bent forward to pick up the pillow. Clarence nearly shouted in alarm, until he recognized the slightly tubby form of Delphina Bell, dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater Ivy had given her yesterday. Delphi didn’t step into the room but stood there holding the pillow in front of her, as if it might be a shield. How long had she been watching him? Had she heard him talking to the TV? Did she think he’d lost his mind? Or was she scared because she thought maybe he’d lost his temper? For Delphi, watching a man lose his temper must be harder than watching him lose his mind.
“Come on in, Delphina. I’m not going to bite. I’m not that hungry yet. What’s the matter, can’t you sleep, either?”
She shook her head and took a tentative step closer, as if she might run like a scared rabbit any second. “I thought…I heard some noise in here.”
“You did. It was just me. Don’t worry. I’m harmless unless you get between me and my chocolate chip cookies.” He pressed the remote and the TV screen went black. Unfortunately, so did the whole room. He flipped the switch back on, but then the mute had disengaged, and exercise music blared through the room—and possibly the whole house. He fumbled for the power switch again and plunged them once more into darkness and silence.
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