Second Opinion

by Alexander, Hannah

“Don’t you Baptists still believe there’s such a thing as backsliding?”

  “It depends on what you mean. Did you really expect to become a perfect person after you became a believer?”

  “No, but I didn’t expect to doubt my faith years later either.”

  “God is more than an emotional experience. Doubts are normal, Grant. There’s nothing wrong with examining your faith.”

  “I didn’t just examine it, I think I lost it.”

  “I’ve felt that way before but God’s faithfulness isn’t dependent on you.”

  Grant shook his head. “After the auto accident that killed Annette, my addiction found me again. I sustained a back injury in the crash and I had to have pain medication. I continued to need it after the damage healed. I was hooked again after all those years of thinking God had healed me for good.”

  “You know that happens a lot. It’s the nature of the narcotic beast. It hits you before you know it and increases the pain between doses until you’re convinced you can’t endure without it.”

  “I should have realized it.”

  “Developing a physical dependency isn’t anything like backsliding.”

  “Brooke and Beau were struggling to come to terms with the loss of their mother. Beau was injured and enduring repeated surgeries and I couldn’t be the father they needed because I was taking far too many narcotics.”

  “Legal drugs.”

  “They were narcotics. Don’t tempt me to make excuses for myself.”

  “Are you still taking them?”

  “No. I weaned myself down to two pills a day, then kicked it cold turkey. Not something I’d recommend but I did discover that it was, indeed, the narcotic that was enhancing the pain receptors. It can be a vicious cycle.”

  “So you’re not addicted now.”

  “No.”

  “Not to drugs anyway, huh? Sounds like you’re addicted to an old enemy.”

  He looked up at her.

  “Guilt,” she said.

  Grant pushed away from the desk and stood, a strong signal to Lauren that she was attacking a wall he didn’t want breached. He reached for the folders, stacked them, turned back to her. “Archer has invited my family to go fishing with your church’s youth group a week from tomorrow.”

  She didn’t react to the sudden change of subject. “That’s great. We’ll have fun.”

  He raised a hand. “Before you meet Beau, there’s something you need to know about him. A piece of metal from the doorframe took a couple of slices out of his face during the accident. He suffered considerable nerve damage.”

  Lauren caught her breath. How much pain was one family expected to endure?

  “He’s had extensive plastic surgery since the accident. The best surgeons in the state weren’t able to repair the damaged nerve,” Grant said. “He cannot smile or laugh with his facial muscles. It’s important to me that he isn’t made to feel uncomfortable about it.”

  “Of course it would be. I’m glad you told me. I’d rather see you hover over your children than block them out after your loss. I’ve seen too much of the other.”

  “I don’t think they appreciate the hovering very much.”

  “I think it’s a loving trait,” she said softly, feeling her eyes sting with compassion for this man and his wounded family. “Isn’t that what parental love is all about? My parents hover too much. I may feel smothered sometimes but I always feel loved. Was Brooke injured?”

  “She wasn’t with us.”

  The secretary turned and waved from across the room. “Dr. Sheldon, we just got a call from the police. The ambulance is on its way here with an officer who caught ammonia in his face. The paramedic is requesting medical control.”

  Grant nodded to Lauren and they rushed toward the front.

  ***

  Thirty-three-year-old Tony Dalton was guided feet first through the automatic double doors of the ER. His gurney was being pulled by an EMT and pushed by one of the police officers as a paramedic irrigated Tony’s gauze-covered eyes with saline from a plastic bottle. His moans of pain were a definite improvement from the loud cries Grant had heard over the ambulance radio a few moments ago.

  “Is that morphine easing any of the pain?” Grant asked.

  “A lot,” the paramedic said. “It’s okay Tony, we’re here now.”

  Two officers in black uniforms surged into the department before the entrance doors closed. They stayed out of the way but announced their presence to their sergeant.

  “My wife? Where’s Caryn?” Tony asked.

  “Henry said he’d call her as soon as we drove off,” one of the officers replied.

  “I heard. I don’t believe him.” Tony’s voice disintegrated into another moan. “He promised to wait for my order. He didn’t.”

  “Our secretary will call your wife, Sergeant Dalton.” Grant directed the attendants to the trauma room. “Is there anyone else you need us to contact?”

  “Archer. Get Archer. My eyes burn so bad. Did they get the perp?”

  “No Sergeant, he escaped out the back.”

  Tony moaned again. “I heard a shot.”

  “He fired at us when he ran out the back door but didn’t hit us. We couldn’t return fire. Too many homes nearby.”

  “Get back out there and help the others look. That slime is going to end up killing our kids if we don’t stop him.”

  Grant helped the attendants transfer his patient to a bed. “Officers, no more questions until we start treatment on his eyes. Lauren, are the Morgan lenses ready? And have the litmus paper ready.”

  “I’ve got it. Here’s the tetracaine.”

  He removed the gauze from Tony’s right eye and winced at the damage from the caustic burns. The cornea and sclera were distorted.

  Grant took the litmus paper and touched it to the eye then took the small vial of tetracaine from Lauren, snapped the top off and squeezed in four drops. Meanwhile the paper turned dark green. Very caustic. This man was going to lose his sight.

  The tetracaine worked quickly. Grant placed a Morgan lens beneath the upper and lower lids of the right eye while Lauren hung the IV fluid from the bedside pole and connected the tubing to the lens to give continuous irrigation. They quickly repeated the process with the left eye.

  “Do you have any throat irritation?” Grant asked Tony. “Shortness of breath?”

  “Not much.” He grimaced. “I didn’t breathe it.”

  In spite of Tony’s protests, Grant gave orders to administer additional morphine through the IV the paramedic had established. It was obvious the pain was returning.

  Tony’s face, neck, and arms were red with blisters.

  Grant turned to the other RN on duty. “Emma, have Vivian call Lifeline and make sure that airlift is on its way. Get me the ophthalmologist on call with Mercy Hospital in Springfield and notify the burn team. Call Archer and send him to intercept at the hospital. He’ll want to be there for his friend.”

  Twenty minutes later, when the helicopter made its noisy arrival outside, a repeat litmus test still proved markedly alkaline. They continued irrigation. The prognosis for Tony’s eyes, though better than when he first came in, was still discouraging.

  ***

  At ten-thirty Thursday night Archer drove down a familiar street in Branson and parked in front of a residential complex. In the daytime, Jessica had an incredible view of a valley of trees and uninhabited wilderness. Despite a central theme of lights and shows and traffic and congestion, this center of entertainment still held a powerful charm just past the flicker of neon.

  A glow outlined the front window of Jessica’s townhouse. Maybe she was home from her show. Archer could have called from the hospital in Springfield but since he had to pass through Branson to get to Dogwood Springs, he couldn’t resist stopping. It had been too long since he’d seen her face and tomorrow he wouldn’t have a chance.

  When he rang the doorbell the front porch light came on almost immediately and he posed for the peephol
e with a smile and a wave. He heard soft laughter as the door opened.

  Jessica had already removed her stage makeup. The strong smiling lines of her expressive face had a translucent glow. She wore faded baggy jeans and a purple T-shirt. Her wavy brown hair the shade of autumn oak leaves fell across her neck and shoulders as she reached for him and drew him into an enthusiastic embrace. He melted against her and held her close. And heaven was better than this? Amazing.

  “Oh Archer how did you know? I was just thinking about how much I wanted to see you again, how much I’ve missed you.” She drew back to look into his face.

  Archer stood in the doorway watching the sparkle in her eyes and he knew he probably looked like the biggest dope in a town full of some pretty dopey people. He suddenly remembered every single reason he loved her so much.

  Jessica took his arm and led him inside as he closed the door behind him. Then she sat on the sofa and patted the spot beside her. “Why did you come tonight instead of tomorrow? And what are you doing out so late on a weeknight?”

  “A friend of mine was wounded in the line of duty today,” he said as he sank to her side. He told her about Tony and about haunting the hallways at the hospital in Springfield for most of the day as he waited to hear from the doctors about whether or not Tony’s eyes could be saved. They still didn’t know when he left the hospital.

  “I’m so sorry.” Jessica’s voice was a little softer than usual, as it always was after several long nights of singing. “You look tired.”

  “He was wounded protecting people like me.”

  She leaned closer to him and took his arm. “I know why you came here tonight.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’re breaking our date for tomorrow and coming by to tell me in person was the gentlest way to do it.”

  “I came by for entirely selfish motives. I wanted to see you.”

  “But you did come to break our date because you’re not going to be available tomorrow. You’re taking your day off to go back to Tony’s bedside because that’s where you know you need to be and that’s your chosen profession.”

  Archer watched her face, surprised by the fact that he saw no resentment there. Maybe some disappointment but in a way that was a good thing.

  “You will slowly give your whole self to your profession the way Tony has. You’re taking risks that may not be as dangerous physically but they take their toll emotionally. In the long run they will take just as much out of you.”

  “That used to upset you. What’s changed?”

  She gave him a gentle smile. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. How can I find fault in what you do when I do the same? I work long hours and I don’t always get enough sleep. I risk damaging my vocal cords when I don’t take the time to practice and stretch my range before I tackle a demanding piece of music.” She reached up and touched her throat. “And yet I keep pushing. When someone asks me to sing, I accept even to the point of overuse. Because I love it.”

  “Does this mean—”

  She touched his lips with her fingers. “What it means, Archer Pierce, is that because I care so very much about you, I am going to send you home now so you can get some rest. And so can I.”

  “But maybe we could—”

  “I’m waiting to hear from God about us. I have a tendency to be impulsive but you mean too much to me to leap into another commitment we might not be able to work out for ourselves. What we do affects too many people. And too much of my heart. I want to make the right decision for you and for me.” With a charming display of that impulsive nature Jessica tried so hard to discipline, she gave him a sweet intoxicating kiss then stood and held out her hand.

  She saw him to the door and out into the night. He drove home with the memory of her kiss enveloping his whole heart.

  Chapter 14

  On Friday morning Archer pulled into the church parking lot ten minutes later than his typical time. That rarely happened even on a day off. Several members of the church family had called last night to ask about Tony. This was a church emergency.

  Archer was tired but there would be no time to rest today.

  “Good morning Archer.” Mrs. Boucher, the church secretary, looked up from a stack of mail on her desk when he entered. “The Websters are already in your office waiting for you.”

  “Thank you.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his neck in an attempt to restore some function to his tired brain.

  Today Evan’s eyes were clear and his gaze more alert. When Archer greeted him, he stood respectfully and shook hands. He had a firm grip much like his father’s.

  “I’m glad you could make it today,” Archer said. He took a chair across from them instead of sitting behind his desk. “Evan, before I forget it, some of us are planning a little fishing trip next Friday. Would you like to join us?”

  Evan’s eyes widened with surprise. “Sure. If I can. I mean, I’d have to ask my mom first but she hasn’t grounded me or anything.” A fresh smile of eager excitement transformed him. “I’d really like that.”

  “Good. I’ll try to pick you up around one-forty-five.” Archer looked at Norville, whose expression mirrored his son’s. “How about you? You’re welcome to join us.”

  “I’ll be at work but by all means take Evan with you. He’s never been fishing before.”

  “We’re planning to invite some other teenagers from church. Since Dr. Sheldon just moved to the area with his son and daughter, we want to make them all feel welcome in the community, show them around a little.”

  Evan’s expression brightened further. “Dr. Sheldon’s going to be there? All right!”

  Norville’s smile faded into concern. “Does he know Evan might be there?”

  The brightness left Evan’s face. “Dad.”

  “No, I didn’t…I mean…that isn’t what—”

  “If I know Grant, he’ll be happy to see Evan,” Archer said quickly. “I think they established a good rapport, don’t you Evan?”

  The boy slumped in his chair. “Yeah.” He cupped his hands together in his lap.

  Before Archer could say anything more, the telephone rang at his desk. He glanced at it, surprised. Mrs. Boucher never sent him calls during counseling sessions.

  Except for emergencies.

  He reached across the front of the desk and picked up. “Yes?”

  “I wouldn’t have disturbed you,” Mrs. Boucher told him, “but you need to take this call from a very upset Caryn Dalton.”

  “About Tony?”

  The lady nodded. “You need to talk to her.”

  Archer would have to brace himself. “Of course.” He cast Norville and Evan an apologetic look.

  There was a click and Archer heard the soft sound of crying. “Caryn? What’s going on? What’s happening with Tony?”

  For a moment she didn’t respond. While he waited, he saw Evan lean toward his father. “You make me sound like I’m some kind of contagious sicko. I blew it, okay? Do you have to remind me about it for the rest of my life?”

  “I didn’t mean for it to come out like—”

  “Archer?” Caryn’s voice came shaky and faint across the line. Archer turned his back to the arguing family and switched gears again.

  “What’s happening with Tony? Are you okay?”

  “The doctors just told us he’s going to be blind. There’s too much damage…” Her voice faded in and out with tears, mingling with the quiet discussion that continued behind him.

  “…what people tend to think when something like this happens. You’ll have to rebuild your reputation one act at a time. It won’t be easy.”

  “Archer,” Caryn said at last, “can you come to Springfield? He needs somebody to talk to.”

  Archer checked his watch. It was eight-thirty. He couldn’t just dismiss Evan and Norville. “I’ll try to make it by ten-thirty. Meanwhile, I’ll be praying.” It was times like this he wished he could still call Jessica. When they were engaged there were a couple
of times he’d called her to ride with him from Branson to Springfield when he needed to make a hospital visit. But now wasn’t the time.

  He disconnected and turned to find father and son still in discussion about the trouble Evan was having with his old friends and his difficulties making new ones and the ongoing battle with his mother.

  Evan sat up straighter in his chair and made eye contact with his father. “You and Mom need to find some common ground where we can all practice behaving like intelligent human beings. I can’t do this alone, Dad. It isn’t just my problem, it’s our problem.”

  Norville held his gaze for a moment and then nodded. “It shouldn’t be your problem. I’m sorry.”

  Evan held his father’s gaze for several seconds before his face reddened and his shoulders slumped. “Dr. Sheldon talked to me about it the night I was there. He understands.”

  “You’re right,” Archer said. “That’s why I think you’d enjoy an outing with him and his family. But what your family’s going through is a societal problem. Most important, it’s God’s problem, because He doesn’t want you to struggle with it alone. Why don’t we pray and bring Him into the equation?”

  Norville looked relieved. Evan looked hopeful. Archer was excited. Lord, wait until they see what you can do.

  ***

  Grant had never noticed how friendly folks could be in a small town but as he drove downhill toward City Hall, he counted seven people waving at him. And they weren’t the angry waves of overstressed big-city drivers. Four of them were elderly pedestrians in jogging outfits and running shoes. One was a policeman in his cruiser, one was an older lady who was barely tall enough to peer over her steering wheel, and the last one was a gardener pruning blooms in one of a multitude of side gardens dotting the town.

  Grant had never been an art expert but he’d always admired paintings of quaint village shops surrounded by flowers set deep into craggy hillsides with streams trickling somewhere nearby. In Dogwood Springs he felt as if he was living in the center of one of those pictures complete with streets constructed of brick. Virginia creeper vines climbed the concrete block walls of City Hall and a stream half-circled the building like a castle moat. Unfortunately, Grant had begun to realize that a snake could be lurking beneath the bed of cheerful flowers. Maybe more than one. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about the nasty attack on Sergeant Tony Dalton yesterday. That trap had been set to cause serious injury. Someone in Dogwood Springs had a rotten heart.