by Emma Browne
‘But isn’t that kind of like him knowing what will happen?’
‘No, because he can’t know with a hundred percent certainty what we will choose. And if there is even the smallest chance that we’ll choose another possibility, then the future must be considered open.’
‘I don’t see how God can be considered sovereign if he doesn’t know the future.’ Julia shook her head.
Sophia put her hands out and lifted her shoulders. ‘What is harder: deciding the future and then being the puppet master, or thinking of every kind of possibility for every choice every person has ever had to make and will ever have to make, and allowing us the freedom to make the choices we want?’
Nick’s eyes narrowed. ‘It sounds awfully complicated, though, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, exactly.’ Sophia’s eyebrows lifted and she gave him a satisfied smile. ‘God can handle complicated, though. That’s what I mean.’
Chapter 38
Miranda
It was late that night when I got a call from John.
I had gone to bed, exhausted after the conversation about predestination. I couldn’t help but feel that the implications of believing the future wasn’t set would be overwhelming. Too tired to think more about it, I had fallen asleep with my Kindle.
When the phone rang, I reached for my phone and hit accept.
‘H’lo?’ I pushed the hair out of my face and yawned, still half-asleep.
‘Miranda? It’s John.’ I sat up straight, all sleepiness gone. A call from John in the middle of the night meant something had happened with Dad.
‘Hi, John.’
‘I’ve got some bad news.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Ok?’
‘Seems your dad’s been in a fight, and he’s been taken to hospital.’
‘What?’ Dad wasn’t the kind of person to get in a fight.
‘I’m going to the hospital. Do you want to come with me?’
‘Yes.’ I looked down at the tank top and pyjama bottoms I was wearing to sleep in. ‘I’ll just pull on some clothes.’
My heart was in my throat as I scrambled to find some jeans and a jumper. I was in the hallway, pulling my boots on, when Julia appeared.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ Her hair was a mess and she squinted through her fingers as if the light was too bright.
‘Dad’s in hospital.’
‘What?’ More awake now, she pushed her hair away from her face. ‘Is he ok?’
‘I don’t know.’ My voice was shrill even to my own ears. I took a deep breath and pulled on my coat. ‘I don’t know anything yet.’
She frowned. ‘I’ll come with you.’
I sighed, overwhelmed at the kindness she was showing me. ‘Thank you, Jules, but it’s okay. You should go back to bed.’
‘Don’t be silly; of course I’m coming. I’m just going to pull some jeans on.’ She turned to go back to her bedroom. ‘Don’t leave without me.’
I nodded and pulled on a coat.
There was a knock on the door just as she came back. I opened it to find John on the doorstep. ‘Ready?’ he asked me.
‘Uh-huh, yeah.’ I nodded.
‘Oh, hi, Julia,’ John smiled at his daughter. ‘You coming, too?’
We got in the car and I buckled up as John pulled out of the drive.
‘You ok?’ He looked at me, and I nodded.
‘Yeah.’ My voice sounded strange… weak. Reminding myself I wasn’t a weak person, I cleared my throat. ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know all the details, but he was in a knife fight, and it sounded bad. They took him straight to surgery.’ He glanced at me when we stopped at a red light. He was taking us the back way, past Craigmillar castle, to get there as quickly as possible. ‘They said he was still alive, but it sounded like it was a severe injury.’
I nodded and looked out the window, seeing nothing in the darkness. Julia put her hand on my shoulder from behind. She didn’t say anything, and I was thankful. I couldn’t handle anyone telling me empty words right now.
He was still alive. That sounded ominous. Dad had been in hospital a few years ago, but that was for a persistent pneumonia – not for injuries caused by a fight. How did things get to the point of him being in a fight?
Sober, Dad would never hurt a fly, but things were different when he was on the drink. He had told me violence came closer when he had been drinking, and though he rarely ended up fighting, I knew a lot of his friends had been in and out of jail for assault.
Why hadn’t I asked John for help with getting him into rehab? I had known he was drinking for months now.
I cleared my throat. ‘I think Dad needs to go to rehab again, John.’ Hearing the anxiety in my voice, I made myself take a deep breath. I was not a weak person.
He glanced at me as he found us a parking spot. ‘Let’s see how he’s doing, and we’ll see what we can arrange once he’s better.’
I nodded.
‘Miranda.’ John parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. I felt his hand on my shoulder and turned to him. ‘Whatever happens in there, you know we’re always going to be here for you.’
My heart sank even as I wanted to lean into the comfort of his hand. Those words were eerily close to those Jack had sent me when he broke up with me.
I forced my face to smile and must have failed badly as he shook his head at me.
‘Come on. Let’s go see what’s what.’
***
A few hours later we were still waiting at A&E. John and Julia were sitting on either side of me, and I don’t know what I might have done if they hadn’t been there. When we had arrived, John had been to the vending machine and bought coffee for him and Julia, and a decaf tea for me.
Dad had been in surgery for hours, and with every minute my anxiety grew.
Being in the hospital brought back memories of waiting for Mum when she was being treated for her cancer, and the increasing hopelessness as it became clear she wasn’t getting better. We kept praying she would be healed, but with every test result my faith grew weaker and weaker.
Had Mum’s illness had been God’s way of testing my endurance, or giving me an opportunity to grow as a person so I might be able to help others later? The whole thing confused me, because I had felt further away from God than I ever had, and powerless against the cancer. If Mum’s sickness was God’s idea, I was sure I didn’t want to know him.
As I sat waiting for Dad to come out of surgery, I wondered if he would die too. Everything seemed unfair. Why would God inflict awful illnesses on people and allow good people to be injured or killed in senseless knife fights?
I didn’t bother trying to bargain with God – there was no point. But as I sat there this time, Sophia’s voice sounded in my head. ‘There is no evil in God. He is love, and there is no room for even a shadow of evil to exist in his plans for us, so it is impossible for him to set a future where we choose to do things that don’t align with his love, and it’s impossible for him to know a set future.’
I had been adamant that she was wrong, but now, for the first time, I wondered if maybe she wasn’t as wrong as I had thought. What consequences would her ideas have on my life if I changed my thinking?
I was startled out of my thoughts by a doctor in green scrubs asking if we were James Grant’s next of kin.
‘Yes,’ John answered, standing up. ‘Miranda is Jimmy’s daughter and we’re close friends.’
I stood up, too, and shook the doctor’s hand. ‘Hi.’
‘I’m Dr Cormack, and I’ve just stitched your dad up. He was in pretty bad shape when he came in. We were concerned about his brain, but we were able to limit the haemorrhaging early on.’
‘Thank you,’ I said around the lump in my throat. ‘Will he be ok?’
‘I expect so. Apart from some numbness to parts of the face, I think he’ll be able to make a full recovery, although I can’t say for certain if he’ll be able to keep his ear.’ He shrugged. ‘There’ll be some sca
rring on his face, but I’ve done my best. He’s still asleep, and is bandaged up, so you can go sit with him if you want.’
I breathed a sigh of relief.
‘He’ll need to take antibiotics, and paracetamol if he’s in pain,’ Dr Cormack continued. ‘I don’t want to prescribe anything stronger, considering his background.’
I nodded. ‘Good.’
‘He’ll be in some pain over the next few days, and he’ll need somebody to look after him.’
‘Of course.’
‘Great. I’ll check on him once he’s awake, and – if there are no complications – we’ll probably be able to discharge him around dinnertime.’
Dr Cormack showed us to where Dad was sleeping, and I sat down next to him, taking his hand in mine. His head was bandaged up, but his eyes and mouth were visible. I didn’t want to think about what the face looked like under the bandages.
Looking up at John, I thanked him for taking me to the hospital and waiting with me. He looked so much like an older version of Jack, and I felt a sharp stab as I thought of Jack and his messy hair and beautiful blue eyes.
John looked at me, kindness shining from his eyes. ‘No need to thank me, deary.’
My breath caught, and I struggled to speak around the lump in my throat. ‘Well, I appreciate it. And you, Julia.’
She hadn’t said much but having her there had made me feel less alone.
‘I’m happy to stay.’
Judging by how dishevelled she looked, though, she could do with going back to bed.
I gave a weak smile. ‘I know. But we’re ok. I’ll let you know when he’s woken up and what happens.’
Julia bit the inside of her lip, and her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, as though deciding what to do. ‘You call or text me when he wakes up, you hear?’
I squeezed her hand. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘And me. I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you both.’ John stroked the top of my head before looking at Julia and nodding towards the door. ‘Let’s go, Jules.’
Chapter 39
Miranda
Whilst Dad slept peacefully, I struggled to keep my emotions under control. The severity of Dad’s injuries, the hopelessness of his addiction, and the loneliness in it all threatened to overwhelm me. I didn’t know how to deal with all this.
Then there were the waves of grief over losing Mum that kept hitting me. I missed the way she would have come in and taken charge of the situation, and how she knew Dad. I felt sure she would have known what to do and how to sort him out now.
The more I thought about it all, the more overwhelmed I felt, and my thoughts drifted back to what Sophia had said about what God knows. Where was God in all this? Had he predestined Dad to end up in hospital tonight? Or was this just one possible outcome of the millions of possible choices? And if God wasn’t the brain behind the night’s events, then what was he?
Checking my watch, I noted that it was five twenty in the morning. Much too early to text Sophia for some answers. I sat back in the uncomfortable hospital chair and sighed.
I needed answers, though.
I got my phone out and downloaded a Bible app. I remembered how Karen would tell people to start with John’s Gospel, so I brought it up and started reading. I had one burning question in my mind: who was God, really?
It was midmorning by the time Dad stirred. Still holding on to his hand, I watched as he opened his eyes. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse when he said, ‘Alright?’
I gave a startled laugh. How this situation could ever be considered alright was beyond me. ‘You will be,’ I said, trying to seem reassuring.
‘Right.’ He closed his eyes again and sighed.
I wondered if he had gone back to sleep, but his thumb kept stroking my hand – like he used to do when I was a little girl and woke up after a nightmare. ‘Do you remember what happened?’
‘Not much.’ He cleared his throat again, and I got up and got him some water from the sink. ‘You ok?’
‘I am now. Scared me, though.’ I passed him the plastic cup, then threw my hands in the air. ‘What do you think you're doing, getting knifed?’
He startled but managed not to spill his drink. ‘Miranda darling, I’m in some pain here. Maybe you could keep your voice down just a wee bit, so my head doesn’t explode?’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Mmm. Don’t think we’re not going to have words about this later, though.’
Dad emptied the cup and wiped his hands over his mouth. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.’ His eye twinkled as he looked at me before closing his eyes again.
How could he be lying here bantering with me when he had just been through a drunken knife fight and hours of surgery? I took a breath and relaxed back in my chair as he fell asleep again.
Dad slept for most of the morning, which was reassuring.
I kept reading the Bible. Though I had read some of the Bible before, it struck me now how John kept saying that God was explained through Jesus. So, I figured if I wanted to know who God was, I would have to find out who Jesus was. And as I read about Jesus, I struggled not to like him.
John described him as the light, and already in the first chapter it said that grace and truth came through him. In all his dealings with people, it appeared as though he was kind and loving, especially to people on the fringes of society. I wondered if John’s Gospel really was a true representation of Jesus, and how it compared to other books?
Surely God wasn’t as good as he came across from reading John?
By midday, Dad was sitting up eating lunch. A couple of hours later, they removed the bandages to check his face.
Though the doctors seemed pleased, I found it difficult to look at him. There were stitches along Dad’s eyebrow, down his cheek and along the side of his head, and his face was swollen and red. The right ear was stitched back on, but the doctor frowned at the sight of it, and suggested I keep an eye on it, as it may need to come off again. The other side of his face was bruised as though he had taken a fist to it, and his neck bore bruises as though someone had tried to strangle him. Looking at it all, I felt like being sick. Dad was lucky not to be in the morgue.
After redressing the wounds, Dr Cormack discharged him, and John came to collect us. Julia stayed with her parents so I could stay in her room, and I made up my bed for Dad in order to be able to keep an eye on him. I found him some old clothes I still had from when he used to live with us.
As both of us struggled to stay awake, we had an early night, and even though I wasn’t in my own bed, I fell asleep as my head hit the pillow.
***
The next morning, we were having breakfast when the doorbell rang, and John and Karen came over.
I glanced at Dad. He had taken his paracetamol and antibiotics, and the swelling had come down some, but he was still bruised and sore. He was also jittery, something I put down to him going through withdrawal from the alcohol. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else but did his best to put on a smile. His face looked like most children’s idea of what a monster looks like, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
‘Morning,’ Dad said as John and Karen came in the kitchen. He struggled to meet John’s eyes, and shame was written all over him.
Karen put two carrier bags on the counter and hugged me as John sat down at the table next to Dad and they started talking.
Still tense after all the stress of the last few days, I struggled not to fall apart as Karen’s hug made me feel a little less alone. She had always been quirky in the best ways, but also, she was kind and sincere and she exuded comfort.
‘Now, then. We need to make some tea,’ she said, and went to fill the kettle.
I got some cups out and helped her put away the food she had brought.
‘I know you don’t eat meat, but I brought over some bolognaise for Jimmy, and there’s a pork stew in there as well. I’ll just pop them in the fridge, and you can heat them later.’
‘Thank you.�
� I nodded gratefully and sat down as she finished making the tea.
‘You look like you’ve seen better days,’ Karen said to Dad as she put a big tea pot and a milk jug on the table.
Dad gave her a wry smile. ‘You should’ve seen the other guy.’
I froze. ‘What?’
‘Miranda, I’m only having a laugh.’ Dad’s smile slid off his face as he looked at me. ‘Don’t worry, darling.’
I didn’t see anything funny with this situation. At all. ‘But do you remember what happened?’
Dad winced. ‘Bits and pieces. Mostly it’s just black.’
I shook my head and drank the tea Karen had poured for me as John and Karen picked up the conversation. I felt increasingly angry by the whole situation. Angry and unsure of how to handle everything. If Dad could make jokes about it already, he couldn’t see how serious it all was. I wanted to bang my head against the wall and scream.
‘Miranda?’ Karen’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.
‘Sorry, what?’ I raised my head to find her gaze.
‘I was just asking about the stitches.’
‘Uh-huh. The doctor said we have to go back in a week.’
‘They had to sew part of my ear back on.’ Dad touched the bandage on his ear. ‘They said there’s a fifty-fifty chance it’ll take. Otherwise, they’ll have to take it back off again.’
Karen frowned. ‘It sounds as though you need-’
‘I need to go for a run.’ I cut in and stood up abruptly. I couldn’t take it anymore. ‘Can you stay with him?’
I put my running clothes on and left the house to the sound of Dad insisting he didn’t need a babysitter. I didn’t need to stay to know John would be agreeing with him but that they would stay anyway.
Thankfully there were still some people in my life with a lick of sense.
Chapter 40
Jack
Though I had expected Miranda to show up for Julia and Nick’s engagement dinner at my parents’ house, I felt insufficiently prepared for seeing her again.
It had been two months since she had told me about the miscarriage, and I had successfully avoided her since then. In that time, I had been through a rollercoaster of emotions, and I still struggled to know what to think or feel about the whole situation.