Hidden Blessings

by Kim Cash Tate

  Lance had come to the pre-op area and, with word that surgery would begin shortly, had just finished praying with her.

  He leaned over her, holding her hand. “In June, you had chemo ahead of you,” he said, “plus surgery and radiation. You knocked the chemo out, and after today, the surgery will be behind you. You know we’ll celebrate that.”

  Kendra nodded, a slight apprehension coming over her about going under the knife. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

  Lance kissed her. “Where else would I be?”

  A nurse approached. “Mr. Alexander, I’ll have to ask you to move to the waiting room.”

  Kendra squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

  He traced her eyebrows, which were starting to fill back in. “I love you too, babe.”

  Kendra watched him go, then closed her eyes. She’d started memorizing Psalm 18, one of her favorites, and that’s what she needed on her heart as they wheeled her to surgery. She let it scroll through her mind—“I love You, O LORD, my strength. The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold . . .”

  She woke up vomiting. Vomiting so severely that she was barely able to catch her breath. And the pain was so excruciating she thought the anesthesia must have worn off in the midst of surgery. But when she got her bearings she realized she was in recovery, and from what she could grasp, she’d been there several hours.

  She glimpsed Lance in a chair a few feet away, but medical personnel surrounded her. Something about her blood pressure dropping. She writhed in pain, and her arms moved in the space above her chest, empty space. They’re gone. The surgery was over, and she was alive—in pain, but alive. And the deformed breast was gone.

  Groggy still, Kendra couldn’t make sense of what was going on. And she didn’t know if she wanted to. Her eyes closed as her upper torso shifted, weightless. Gone.

  With Lance’s help, Kendra slipped her arms one at a time, very slowly, into one of his old button-down shirts. She couldn’t lift her arms to pull a shirt over her head, and her own button-downs weren’t roomy enough. She needed space to accommodate the drains inserted by the surgeon, which moved fluid from her chest to bulbs attached at the end of the tubing. Lance had been emptying the drains every few hours, helping her shower, and picking up and reaching for things she needed. She had no idea what she’d be doing without him.

  It was five days since the surgery, three since she’d been home. She’d been looking forward to being rid of her cancerous breast—and she was indeed relieved—but somehow the pain that would result from surgery had escaped her. At times, it was excruciating still, and she was almost counting down minutes until the next pain pill.

  A knock sounded at the bedroom door.

  “Who is it?” Lance buttoned her up.

  “Hey,” Trey said, “I’m headed to campus, but Ellen just stopped by to see you two.”

  “Come in, Trey.” Kendra waited for the door to open. “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “She brought a casserole or something, but she also asked if you were available.” Trey hunched up his backpack, which was sliding. “Should I tell her it’s not a good time?”

  Kendra had been about to climb back into bed, but Ellen had never just stopped by out of the blue.

  “Tell her I’ll be down,” Kendra said.

  “All right.” Trey turned to leave, then turned back. “You need anything? I can stop by the store on the way home.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

  Kendra checked herself in the mirror. A little ’fro was trying to grow in, now that she’d stopped chemo.

  “You want your phone?” Lance asked.

  “Yes, thanks.” People had been calling to ask about her surgery, and it helped to have it with her.

  They made their way downstairs and saw Ellen in the entryway.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you,” Ellen said. “I really could’ve come back another time.”

  “It’s okay.” Kendra was fatigued, her breathing labored. “Trey said you brought some food. I really appreciate that.”

  “No trouble at all,” Ellen said. “I think he tucked it away in the refrigerator.” She looked a little uncomfortable. “Should we sit in the living room?”

  “Sure,” Kendra said.

  Lance helped her get settled on the sofa, which was now a feat since she had to position herself in such a way that she wouldn’t bump the tubing or the drain under her shirt.

  Ellen sat across from them in a chair. “I talked myself out of coming several times, because it feels odd,” she said. “But ever since your wedding, I don’t know . . .”

  Kendra and Lance glanced at each other.

  “It’s okay,” Lance said. “Say whatever’s on your mind.”

  “First, Kendra, I didn’t know until the news report that your former fiancé had broken up with you over your illness, which had to be just awful.” She looked at Lance. “And I never knew you had a small bit of history here in Clayton, Lance.”

  Lance sighed. “Yeah, I wasn’t thrilled when the local paper thought it was ‘interesting’ to dig that up as part of the wedding piece.”

  “But knowing these bits of background,” Ellen said, “and witnessing your wedding myself . . . It’s made me think . . .” She groaned. “This sounds so wishy-washy. I knew it would.”

  “It’s not wishy-washy at all.” Lance shrugged. “And even if it is, who says anything’s wrong with wishy-washy?”

  A sharp pain shot through Kendra, and she clutched Lance’s hand to bear up under it, so Ellen would feel free to continue.

  Ellen smoothed her hands down her thighs. “I guess what I’m trying to say is it gives me hope . . .” Her jaw tightened. She was clearly stifling emotion. “I feel like, if you two could find something so beautiful after what you’ve been through—and in the midst of what you’re still going through—then just maybe . . .”

  Lance leaned forward. “Ellen,” he said softly, “you feel like you need hope?”

  “I do.” Her face contorted, but there was nothing she could do. The tears came. “I didn’t want this to happen,” she said, wiping them quickly. “I feel so foolish.” She got up. “I don’t know what I’m doing here anyway. I’m the last person you would want to hear from about anything—”

  “Ellen.” Kendra felt a piece of tubing poking her and shifted a little. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “And if you’ve got time, Lance and I would love to tell you how we found hope.”

  Two hours later Ellen rose to leave, after they’d prayed together.

  “I didn’t expect this when I came,” she said, “that you would take this kind of time with me.” She exhaled. “I just shared things I’d never imagined sharing . . . and in the unlikeliest of places.”

  “God does that,” Lance said. “Coming to live here was the unlikeliest of places for me. For that matter, marrying Kendra, the popular Clayton cheerleader, was ‘the unlikeliest’ for me.”

  “Hey!” Kendra said.

  “Being real, babe.”

  “Thank you.” Ellen shouldered her bag. “And thank you for the Bible. I’m still not sure about everything. I’m not ready to take any big steps. But I’ll ponder the things you said.”

  Kendra’s phone rang, and she looked at it, then looked at Lance. “It’s Dr. Contee.”

  “You go ahead,” Ellen said. “I’ll let myself out. Thanks again.”

  Kendra answered. “Hi, Dr. Contee.”

  “Hi, Kendra, how are you feeling? Are the pain meds working?”

  “It’s been pretty bad, but better than yesterday,” Kendra said, “so I’m hoping for even better tomorrow.”

  “Well, I know you’ve got an appointment tomorrow, when we’ll check your drains and see how you’re recovering,” Dr. Contee said. “But I thought you’d want to hear some news from the preliminary pathology report.”

  Kendra whispered it to La
nce. “Preliminary pathology report.”

  He moved closer.

  “It’s what we were looking for,” Dr. Contee said. “Clean margins with your left breast.”

  Kendra closed her eyes. Thank You, Lord.

  “What?” Lance said.

  “Clean margins,” Kendra whispered.

  They both knew what it meant, that the surgeon had been able to cut out the tumor completely, with a rim of healthy tissue all around.

  “The report also found cancer in your right breast,” Dr. Contee said.

  Kendra’s eyes widened.

  “But it was a small amount, and that, too, was removed with a clean margin.”

  “Thank God we did a double mastectomy,” Kendra said.

  “Exactly,” Dr. Contee said.

  “So what does this all mean?” Kendra asked.

  “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow,” Dr. Contee said, “but as of now—the cancer is gone.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  December

  KENDRA FELT BETTER THAN SHE’D FELT IN A LONG TIME. NOT pain-free by any means. But the words cancer-free had been enough to set a new course. Yet it was more than that. Without the diseased breasts and the chemo effects, the pain was lessening. Her energy was returning. Her hair was growing. She could even taste more of her food. She almost felt . . . normal.

  But radiation would start tomorrow. And based on what she’d heard, it could knock her back a few steps. Some felt very little in the first few weeks. Others had nausea and sickness. But eventually, it seemed, almost everyone suffered intense radiation burns. She’d have eight weeks of it, five days a week, and at the end she hoped to have a real celebration.

  But this morning she’d decided to take advantage of a feel-good day by going to Living Word. Lance had left early this morning, as usual. For months, Kendra hadn’t had the energy. Just the thought of sitting in a pew for any length of time was tiring. And the couple of Sundays she probably could have gone, she’d chosen to rest.

  But this morning she had a real desire to go, not necessarily to the main church, but here, to the building in which she’d spent so much time as a teen—to listen to her husband. On the edge of her seat, Kendra marveled that this was her first time hearing him like this. The dynamic in the living room was far different from the dynamic on a stage, in a room full of teens. Here, the man was electric.

  Kendra hit her brother’s arm. “Did you know Lance could preach like this?”

  Trey gave her a look. “Where’ve you been?”

  “At home in bed, usually.”

  “Okay, good excuse,” Trey said. “But yeah, this is why Molly, Timmy, and I come to both services every Sunday, even though we’re supposedly too old for this one.”

  Molly chimed in. “I told Lance, on Wednesday nights, he’s all laid back”—she slumped in her chair—“but up there, he goes into a different zone.”

  “Uh, hello, people.” Timmy spoke from two seats down. “There’s an enlightening message going forth, in which we can all partake, if you’d only have ears to hear and mouths to close.”

  Molly narrowed her eyes at him.

  Kendra laughed quietly, whispering, “Timmy’s right. My fault.”

  “Imagine Joshua running in a pack,” Lance was saying, winding up. “What if he said, ‘No, I don’t want to be different, don’t want to look different, talk different, definitely don’t want to do different . . .’ ”

  Lance paced before them. “What if Joshua said, ‘You know, God, I’d really rather not be strong and courageous, because no one else is strong and courageous, so how would that look? I mean, there’s Caleb, but people think he’s wack.’ ”

  The teens chuckled, looking at one another.

  He stopped, looking at them. “But notice God didn’t ask a whole clique of people to be strong and courageous,” Lance said. “He only needed one—and that strong, courageous one would lead and inspire the rest.”

  He jumped down from the stage and walked into the audience. “What I want to know is, which one of you will it be? Who’s willing to be different, to be greatly used by God? Who’s got the courage to say, ‘The rest of y’all can get involved in all that foolishness if you want, but as for me . . .’ ”

  Timmy stood, then Trey and Molly. Kendra thought they were playing along, but their expressions said otherwise. They were willing. And true to what Lance had just said, they inspired others to stand.

  When the service ended minutes later, Lance was back there in a flash.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked her. “I thought I was seeing things.”

  “I wanted to see what you do every Sunday.” Kendra eyed him with admiration. “Can I tell you what I saw?”

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw a man who has said, ‘Yes, God, I’m willing to be strong and courageous for You.’ ”

  He stared at her a moment. “So you think you can just come into my workplace and make me emotional in front of these teens.” He wiped a nonexistent tear. “No, ma’am, it’s not gonna happen.”

  “It just occurred to me,” Kendra said. “I hadn’t seen this side of you, but they’ve probably never seen the sensitive side of Lance Alexander. Hidden camera footage would probably be golden.”

  “They’d never believe it,” Lance said. “My reputation is fixed. All man. Macho. Never a tear.”

  Molly was with them, listening. “Kendra, you forgot . . . the wedding video has gone viral. You know, where the groom breaks down at the altar as his bride appears.”

  “A man broke down at the altar?” Lance said. “Seriously? Ugh. Ruins it for everyone.”

  Timmy cleared his throat. “What it does, in actuality, is inspire the Romeo within to dare to be entranced by, deeply smitten with, a love that comes but once in a lifetime.” He lifted Molly’s hand as if to kiss it.

  Molly yanked it back. “You can drink the Kool-Aid by yourself, dude.”

  They all laughed. “I keep telling you two,” Trey said, “one day . . .”

  Lance took Kendra’s hand as they walked to the main building.

  “Hey, you guys,” Kendra said, “tree-trimming party tonight. Don’t forget.”

  “B.Y.O.E.?” Timmy asked.

  Kendra tried to puzzle it out. “Bring your own . . . ?”

  Timmy smiled. “My favorite holiday drink. Eggnog.”

  Kendra eyed him. “As long as it’s not spiked with that Romeo Kool-Aid, we’re good.”

  “Look what Daddy and I made!”

  Brooklyn came running into the living room with Marlon following and a small box of ornaments they’d been working on.

  “Great timing.” Kendra hung a silver ball waist high, still unable to reach very far. “We saved the last spots on the tree for the most special ornaments. Ooh, what’s that there?”

  Brooklyn had pulled one out. “We traced a cookie-cutter Christmas tree on felt, cut it out, and punched holes in it. Then we glued sparkly beads over the holes.” Her eyes were bright. “We made Christmas trees for the Christmas tree!”

  “It’s beautiful!” Kendra said. She looked at her dad. “Since when did you become artsy-craftsy?”

  “Brooklyn’s teaching me,” Marlon said, smiling at her. “She’s very creative.”

  Kendra looked into the box. “You’ve got all sorts of pretty things in there. Let’s get these beauties on the tree.”

  “Daddy, can you help me put this Christmas tree one up high?”

  “You ready?” Marlon said.

  Brooklyn giggled. “Yes!”

  He picked her up and hoisted her high.

  “Whoa! I didn’t know you were gonna do that!” Brooklyn placed it carefully on a branch.

  Marlon continued helping Brooklyn hang their ornaments. “Did I tell you all I have a closing date on the duplex?” he asked. “Second week in January.”

  “Where is the duplex, Mr. Woods?” Timmy asked.

  Marlon chuckled. “At the other end of this street.”

&
nbsp; Timmy had been working on the lights, but he paused. “Will you be renting apartments? If so, I’m interested.”

  “Absolutely,” Marlon said. “We’ll talk.”

  When all the ornaments had been hung, Kendra turned to Trey and Timmy. “Are the lights ready?”

  “They’re hung, but we didn’t test them yet,” Trey said.

  Everyone stood back as Trey turned the lights out in the room, then flipped a switch for the Christmas tree lights. A gasp of awe went around the room.

  “This is really beautiful,” Marlon said. “Special.” He looked at Lance. “You picked the perfect tree.”

  “With a lot of help,” Lance said. “It was my first time getting a real one.”

  “With everything that happened last year,” Trey said, “we didn’t even have a tree for Christmas.”

  “And I didn’t come home for Christmas,” Kendra said.

  “And I was stoned last Christmas,” Timmy said.

  Molly stared at the tree. “What a difference a year makes.”

  Kendra hugged Lance’s waist, lingering. Anxiety about tomorrow was creeping in, what radiation would be like, how her body would react. But she forced her mind to stay here. In this moment. And in her heart, she bottled and stored it.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  LANCE SNEAKED DOWNSTAIRS EARLY TO WRAP HIS GIFT FOR Kendra and put it under the tree. He’d been filled with excitement all week, simply because it was Christmas . . . and his first Christmas with the love of his life. He’d already gotten his gift—Kendra was cancer-free and doing well on radiation. Granted, it had only been a little over a week, but he was thankful nonetheless that it hadn’t overwhelmed her. She’d had some nausea and fatigue, but in their world that was very manageable. After this morning’s appointment, he was looking forward to soaking in the holiday—cooking and baking, watching Christmas movies, and doing lots of snuggling by the fireplace.

  He went back upstairs to see what Kendra wanted for breakfast, but when he walked into the room he found her sitting up in bed, tears streaming down her face.