“Here,” Damian held out the piece of paper that named Rachel as emergency contact. “I think that might be her aunt.”
Rachel took the paper and looked at the other side of it. “Carmen Davis. So you’ll call her?”
Damian nodded and took the paper back from Rachel and slipped it into his shirt pocket. “When I go home later I’ll give her a call.”
“Thanks.” Rachel began to return Mari’s stuff to her purse.
Chapter Sixteen
As exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, Damian tried to stifle a yawn, clenching his jaw so tight it hurt.
“You should go home and get some rest,” Rachel said.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.” Damian settled back in his seat and tried again to stop from yawning.
“Go home. I’ll be fine.”
Damian wanted to argue, but he didn’t have the energy. Even the coffee he’d drank earlier wasn’t helping.
“Okay, I’m going to head for home,” Damian said as he stood.
“Good.” Rachel got up from her seat too. “You need some rest. The half hour you got earlier wasn’t enough.”
“You going to be okay?” Damian ran his hand down her arm, then loosely gripped her hand. “Mom’s right, you should be getting more rest, too.”
“I’ll rest later. I want to stay here until we get more answers on Mari’s memory loss. You take your time, I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.” Damian hated to leave her even though he was exhausted. “I’ll have my cell phone on and keep it with me all the time. You phone if you need anything.”
“Just make sure you get some sleep.” Rachel moved a step away from him, forcing Damian to release her arm.
“I plan to make a couple of phone calls and check the messages on my answering machine before climbing into bed for a couple of hours.”
They walked side by side to the elevator. “Thanks so much for everything you’ve done for me, and for Mari.”
Damian looked at her, curious about the expression in her eyes. There was something there he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He reached out to touch her cheek, but then stopped and let his arm fall back to his side. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
A small smile curved the corners of Rachel’s lips. “See you later.”
Damian pushed the button to call the elevator. As they waited, he turned to look at Rachel. A wave of emotion swamped him as he took in her weariness.
“I know this isn’t the best time,” Damian began, “but I wanted you to know that if your past is what was holding you back from a relationship, that doesn’t matter to me. Your past is your past, I would never hold that against you.”
The elevator bell dinged, and the doors slid open.
Without waiting for Rachel to reply, Damian stepped into the empty elevator and turned around. Incredible sadness had joined the weariness on Rachel’s face.
Just as the doors began to close, she said, “I can’t have children.”
Damian’s hand shot out, and he caught the edge of the elevator door so it stopped, then reversed its direction. “What?” He pressed his hand against the door to keep it open.
“I can’t have children.” Rachel repeated.
”I don’t understand.” Damian tried to ignore the numbing coldness that crept into his body. “You had Mari.”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, but I can’t have any more.”
“Have you been tested? Are you sure?”
She took a step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. He saw her shoulders rise and fall. She looked back up and met his gaze. Pain lanced through Damian when he saw the agony in Rachel’s eyes.
“I’m sure.” Her eyes closed briefly “I have no uterus.”
The bottom dropped out of Damian’s world. All he had hoped and planned and prayed for lay in ashes at his feet. But even as pain filled him, he knew it would never touch the pain Rachel felt. He could see the agony in her eyes when she opened them again.
“I had a difficult labor with Mari and ended up having a c-section. Afterwards my uterus wouldn’t stop bleeding. They told my mom they needed to take do a hysterectomy in order to save my life.”
Damian was at a loss for words. Of all the things he’d imagined her telling him, this had never crossed his mind.
“I can never have the children you want so much. Don’t you see? It would never work.”
Damian’s hand fell limply to his side as her words sank in. By the time he realized what he had done the doors were already closing. He reached for the door, but his movements were slow and weighted. The door closed, blocking Rachel from his sight.
He leaned against the wall of the elevator, his head tipped back and eyes closed. Damian hated knowing he had forced Rachel to reveal what was obviously a very painful secret. But everything made sense now. He wished she had told him sooner; it would have saved them both a lot of time and trouble.
The elevator reached the main floor, and he automatically stepped out. Damian had taken several steps towards the front doors of the hospital when he turned back to the elevator. He pushed the up button, but as he waited Damian knew he needed some time before talking with Rachel again.
He swung away from the elevator and headed for the doors leading out of the hospital. Even before he reached his truck Damian was already pretty sure what his decision would be. There was no other decision he could make and still live with. Though it was painful and represented the loss of what he’d dreamed these past six months, it was the only choice he could make.
Damian needed time to mourn his loss, to have his emotions under control, before talking to Rachel.
*****
Rachel lingered by the elevator, sure Damian would return. He wouldn’t just leave their conversation like that, she was positive of that. Her heart pulsed with hope as she waited for the doors to open again. The numbers above it showed that the elevator was on its way back up.
The numbers changed, slowly rising. Her stomach clenched and she clasped her hands in front of her, hardly able to breath. The bell dinged, and the doors slid open. Rachel watched as the elevator emptied.
Damian was not among those getting off.
Pain lanced through Rachel. Where was he? She’d finally opened her heart and told him everything, and now he left her alone. Everything she feared was coming true. He knew her secrets and didn’t want anything more to do with her.
Rachel turned from the elevator, her arms crossed tightly over her waist. Why had she gotten her hopes up? He’d only said that if her past was the reason for not being together that it didn’t matter. He hadn’t said that the present didn’t matter. And the present included her inability to have children.
Tears flooded her eyes, but Rachel blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. She was so weary of the roller coaster of emotions she’d been on the past few weeks. Up and down, hope and despair. Rachel didn’t know how much more she could handle. Everything pressed heavily upon her, and she feared she would stagger under the weight, never to stand again.
Rachel returned to her seat but didn’t sit down. She stood looking out the window at the dreary, gray day beyond. It so perfectly suited her mood. Rachel took a couple of deep breaths trying to fortify herself. When it didn’t help, she realized she couldn’t do this alone. Rachel was as low as she could go, and there was only one person who could draw her up again. And she still needed to make right her angry words from earlier.
When Rachel asked the nurse about a chapel, she was directed to the second floor. She left with the assurance that they would contact her there if they needed her for anything with regards to Mari.
Rachel stepped inside the doors of the hospital chapel and found an oasis of peace in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Gone was the antiseptic smell, instead a light scent of lavender lingered in the air. There were no gleaming white walls or tile floors. The dark green carpet was plush, and her shoes sank into it as she walked to the front of the small room. Th
e walls were painted a warm burgundy color and the pews were padded and covered with a material that blended the burgundy of the walls with the green of the carpet.
Soft instrumental music played, cloaking Rachel in serenity as she came to a stop at the front of the chapel, flanked on each side by pews. Clasping her hands, she stared at the simple wooden cross on the wall.
Rachel didn’t know what she expected as she stood there. Somehow she wanted to find the joy that seemed so elusive in her life. That, in spite of her circumstances, she would be able to have a joyful heart. There were things in her life that would never change, the biggest one being her ability to have children. Somehow she needed to come to terms with it and find the joy to continue on in her life.
“Can I help you?”
A man’s voice broke through her thoughts, drawing her gaze from the cross. A tall elderly man stood in the doorway of a room near the front of the chapel.
“I’m Doug Ellis, the chaplain here at the hospital. Is there something I can help you with? Pray with you perhaps?”
The warmth of his blue eyes and the gentle kindness he seemed to exude called to her. Rachel felt an overpowering desire to share with him things she hadn’t shared with anyone but her mother.
“Tears are good,” the chaplain told her. “Don’t try to suppress your emotions.”
Rachel hadn’t even realized she’d begun to cry until he spoke. She lifted a hand to her cheek and felt dampness. How she wished her mother were there. She missed her so much.
“Come, my child, let’s sit down.” The older man took her arm and gently led her to the front pew. “If you want to talk, please feel free. If you’d rather not, can you tell me your name so I can pray for you?”
“Rachel. My name is Rachel Perkins.”
“Well, Rachel, what is troubling you?”
“My daughter was badly hurt in an accident yesterday,” Rachel began, and soon the whole story poured out of her heart. When she’d told him everything, Rachel felt hollowed out. Empty. “Why is God punishing Mari for my sins? She didn’t ask to be born into the circumstances in which she was. And yet she has been hovering near death and is now facing a long recovery. Why did He do this to her?”
Reverend Ellis took one of her hands in his and looked at her, compassion filling his eyes. “What has happened to your daughter is not a result of your sin, Rachel. Did you ask the Lord to forgive you for your sin?”
Rachel nodded. “Over and over again.”
“You need only do it once. God has forgiven your sins, and they are gone forever. There are two verses that come to mind. The first Jeremiah 31 says, ‘For I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more’. And then in first John it says, ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness’.”
“But then why is this happening? Why do I feel as if I’m being punished all over again? And now Mari is caught up in it, too!” Rachel struggled to keep the anger from her voice.
“Bad things happen to good people sometimes. We do not live in a cocoon or a bubble where no bad things will ever happen to us once we become Christians. If Mari had been born to you within the bounds of marriage, would you be wondering what sin it was that you or she was being punished for through this accident?”
Rachel looked down at her hands, mulling over what the chaplain had said.
“And to go back even further, if you had given birth to Mari within the bounds of marriage, conceived in love and yet had experienced the same difficulties afterwards causing you to lose your ability to have more children, would you question if it was a result of sin?”
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and thought. Most likely she would have been thankful the Lord had given her at least one child. And the accident would have been just that, an accident. Rachel opened her eyes and looked at the chaplain.
“Do you see what I’m trying to say, Rachel? Your sin, once confessed, is forgiven and remembered no more. Jesus paid the penalty for your sin when He died on the cross. Yes, there are consequences for our sins, but God is not searching for every opportunity to punish you. Things happen that may seem like punishment, but, in fact, are just the way things are. Not every teenage girl who has sex and gets pregnant goes on to suffer physically the way you did. That physical ailment was perhaps something you would have suffered when giving birth to your first child no matter when or how you conceived her.”
Rachel thought back over the years. What the chaplain said made sense, but it was so hard to let go of her mindset that all that had happened was a punishment for her actions seventeen years ago. In a way, it had made it easier to accept things. At least there was a reason for why they happened. Now, if they weren’t a punishment, why had they happened? Why hadn’t God healed her after Mari’s birth? Why hadn’t He protected Mari and Jace on that road the day before?
As if sensing the new turmoil within her, the chaplain spoke again. “Rachel, we do not always see the bigger picture which will often explain why things happen. We may not even understand until we reach heaven and ask the Lord about it.
“I want to give you an example of why these things might be happening to you. I’m not saying that these are the reasons, but just to give you an idea of how these events might be impacting in a positive way.”
Rachel couldn’t imagine anything positive in what had happened to her and to Mari.
“Mari’s parents were unable to have children, right?”
Rachel nodded.
“You may have seen getting pregnant as something bad, but, even though it was the consequence of your sin, you gave birth to a beautiful little girl who brought years of joy to a couple who were not able to have children of their own.
“You are not able to have a child of your own now, but you can adopt. Perhaps there is a precious child who will need you as their mother. And if you had been able to have children of your own, you may not have considered adopting, and the child who needed you would not have you in their life.”
Tears pricked at Rachel’s eyes. Maybe the Lord hadn’t taken away her ability to have children because He didn’t think she would be a good mother, but that He had a special child in mind for her to mother. Even Mari. Without other children, Rachel had been able to welcome Mari into her life with no trouble, and was now able to be at her side without having to worry about neglecting her other children.
For so long she’d been focused on the negative. Every cloud has a silver lining. It had been a favorite saying of her grandmother’s. Over the years she’d just been more focused on the cloud than on the lining of silver that promised hope and joy.
Rachel bowed her head and buried her face in her hands. Oh Father, forgive me for my bitterness and joyless spirit. So long I have carried a sin I need not have for Your son bore it to Calvary for me, and now it is forever gone. Remove this burden from me and help me to find joy. Your joy.
“May I pray for you now, Rachel?” Doug Ellis asked in a soft, gentle voice.
Rachel nodded. She felt the man’s hand rest upon her shoulder and listened as he prayed for her.
“Father, I lift Your child up before You today. Flood her with Your peace. Let her taste Your joy, the joy that comes only from You and that will sustain her even in difficult circumstances like she is facing now.
“We pray You will touch her precious daughter’s body and heal the wounds she bears. Give Rachel strength, Your strength, to deal with all that comes her way. As she makes decisions for Mari’s future and even for her own.
“And Father, I ask too that you help Rachel to allow herself to be loved. She has not said the words, but as I listened to her I could hear pain, the pain that comes from feeling unworthy of Your love or anyone else’s. She is worthy, Father, because Your son took her unworthiness upon Himself and presented her to You an unblemished child, clothed in white.
“I ask all of this in Your precious son’s name. Amen.”
Rachel lifted her head a
nd stared in amazement at the man sitting beside her. “How did you know? When I didn’t even know myself, how did you know?”
“That you feel unworthy of love?” he asked.
Rachel nodded as she tried to sort through the flood of emotions caused by his prayer.
“When you get to my age,” he began, a smile deepening the creases of his face, “there’s not much I haven’t experienced. You’re not the first person to cross my path who has struggled with this. And, sad to say, you probably won’t be the last.
“I can’t take credit for being all-knowing, but at times the Lord impresses on me an area of vulnerability that a person is struggling with. Usually He opens my eyes as well as my ears to see this. I sensed in you a feeling of unworthiness because you felt you had never fully atoned for the sin you’d committed.”
Rachel covered her face with her hands, feeling dampness on her fingertips as she pressed them against her eyes. It grieved her to think of how much she’d lost over the years. Of missed opportunities to share what had happened to her and to allow her relationships with others to deepen.
It was amazingly freeing to think about sharing everything with those she loved and know, yes really know, that they would love her and not judge her for her past.
“Thank you.” Rachel looked at the chaplain through a veil of tears. “Thank you so much.”
“I will continue to pray for you. May I visit Mari?”
Rachel nodded. “Oh, please do. I think she would like that.” She gave him the information for Mari’s room and then stood. “I need to get back.”
The chaplain stood as well and walked with her to the doors of the chapel. “Keep your joy in the Lord, Rachel.”
Rachel smiled. “I will.”
She left the chapel with a spring in her step that hadn’t been there earlier. Bolstered by the time spent with the chaplain, Rachel started to think about her dad. Just as Christ had forgiven her for her past sins, her dad was also forgiven. She could not hold against him that which Christ did not.
Waiting For Rachel: A Christian Romance (Those Karlsson Boys) Page 18