by Arlene James
“You were just sneering. Cut it out or you can forget the job and the van and, if I have anything to say about it, the room and everything else.”
Ashamed, Eva bowed her head. “I didn’t mean to sneer. Truly I didn’t, but I don’t get what’s going on here. What’s the issue with the job? That’s not charity. That’s honest employment. You’ll see. I’ll do good work for you, I promise.”
“Don’t swear,” he snapped. “Just behave yourself and be respectful.”
“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” she told him, “and I don’t think that’s the problem. It’s almost as if they’re afraid of me somehow.”
He rubbed a hand over his head and said, “They’re concerned for me, Eva. They know that I’m attracted to you, and they don’t want to see me hurt.”
Some seconds ticked by before she realized that her mouth was hanging open. They knew that he was attracted to her? And they didn’t want him hurt. The implications of this both elated and deeply saddened her.
She shook her head, reminding herself why a romance with Doc Gorgeous—or any man—was impossible, gulped and said, “B-because I’m dying, you mean.”
He looked her in the eye then, and she thought, she just knew, that he was going to say something incredibly heroic and stupid like, “You’re not going to die,” or “I won’t let you die.”
Instead, he got to his feet and said, “Because my wife was dying when I married her.”
Then he walked out and left her sitting there with her mouth hanging open again.
Chapter Six
Rendering Eva speechless for once proved strangely pleasurable for Brooks. She said not a word all the way to the church. After they left the car and walked toward the chapel on the sprawling campus of the Downtown Bible Church, she obviously became more and more uncomfortable. He could literally see her shoulders tighten and her head sink lower as her steps grew shorter. He wondered what she expected, a public pillory?
His own spirits stuttered when he pulled open the heavily carved door and found Morgan and Lyla in the foyer. Mentally cringing during the introductions, he braced himself for Eva’s first quip. Instead, she seemed to have eyes only for Bri.
“Ooohhh, she’s adorable.”
“We think so,” Lyla admitted. Bri reached out to grab a tiny fistful of Eva’s fur collar.
“Her little hands are just perfect. I love baby fingers.”
“I know. Aren’t they sweet?”
“I remember,” Eva began, only to shake her head.
Brooks realized suddenly that she had choked up. It hit him all at once that she was unlikely ever to know the joy of having her own child and that she must feel that loss keenly. All at once, she reached behind her and flipped her ponytail over onto Bri’s head. The blond shades weren’t so far apart, but Bri still had little hair to cover her tender skull.
“Preview!” Eva sang, arranging the wisps of hair atop Bri’s head. “The girl’s gonna be a knockout.”
Lyla Simone laughed as Bri tried to pull Eva’s hair down over her face. “Won’t be long until you have your own ponytail,” she promised.
“Don’t rush it,” Morgan pleaded. “She was a newborn just yesterday, and now she’s walking. The next thing we know it’ll be ponytails and bicycles.”
“Then driving,” Eva drawled, adding sound effects to approximate screeching tires and revving engines. Morgan clutched his chest.
Even as Brooks laughed, he realized that Eva used her humor and outrageousness to fight fear and dismay. He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it sooner, perhaps because he wasn’t convinced that her prognosis was the correct one. Whatever he suspected, however, Eva believed she was dying of a brain tumor, and that had to be terrifying, especially for a woman alone in a strange place.
Frowning, he wondered how that had come to be. He knew that her mother and sister had already died, but did she have no other family? No one who could convince her to have a proper workup of tests done and take an honest look at her situation? What about friends? Surely she had friends. Someone somewhere must care about this woman.
They followed Morgan into the cross-shaped sanctuary, while Lyla Simone hurried off to the nursery with Bri. The Chatam sisters had saved chairs for them in the front of the central section. They filed into place, leaving the aisle seat for Lyla, who slipped into place just before the pastor stepped up to the microphone at the center of the space.
They began with a hymn. Then the pastor read a Scripture selection. Next, volunteers passed out printed sheets with prayer requests while the pastor asked if anyone had a personal petition to add to the list.
Magnolia rose, laid her hand on Eva’s shoulder and said in a firm voice, “Our friend Eva is in need of healing.” With that, she sat down again.
Around them, pens clicked and scribbling commenced as Eva’s name was added to the list. Others spoke their concerns. Eventually heavy accordion curtains closed off the four sections of the sanctuary, and a leader rose in each one to lead the participants of the four groups in prayer. Morgan led their particular group. Quite a few prayed aloud. Brooks chose not to speak, but he prayed silently for Eva’s physical, emotional and spiritual healing, as well as all the other requests. He couldn’t help noticing, however, that Eva merely sat quietly, staring down at her hands.
At the end of the hour, the dividers were pushed back, and the congregation joined together for a few announcements, a closing hymn and a benediction. Then they were free to depart, though most hung around to chat for a while. Eva nodded and smiled at those who wished her well. Before the Chatam sisters could suggest that she ride back to the house with them, Brooks walked her out to his car and opened the passenger door for her, curious about her impressions of the prayer meeting. He didn’t have long to wait.
No sooner did he slide behind the steering wheel than she erupted with, “Doesn’t it make you angry when God fails to heal the sick?”
Stunned, he turned to her. “Angry?”
“You’re a doctor! You’re all about healing. If you really believe in God, then you must believe that He has the ability to heal.”
“I do.”
“Then, why aren’t you savagely angry that He doesn’t do it?” she demanded.
Brooks shifted in his seat, marshaling his thoughts. “Eva, no one has a right to healing, any more than we have a right to forgiveness. These are gifts from God, products of His grace, showered on this fallen world. His forgiveness is there for anyone willing to ask for it, but healing, like so many other blessings, is received as God wills, and we can’t always know why He chooses one action over another. God might choose to heal one of His children by taking him or her home to Heaven, for reasons known only to God at the time. As wrong as it may seem to us, we can trust that God always chooses the action that is best for all concerned, because He, and He alone, can truly see the future and the needs of all involved.”
“But you try to cure disease yourself,” she argued.
“Yes, and I will go on trying,” he stated flatly, “because that is my calling, but I never forget that ultimate healing is God’s work alone. I don’t understand why some must suffer horribly while others enjoy great good health until the day God calls them home, but I know that it is never without reason, that my job is to alleviate the suffering as much as humanly possible and that God always answers prayer—even if the answer isn’t always what I’d like it to be.”
Eva frowned. “You’re saying that death is a kind of healing.”
“For the Christian, yes.”
“And you think I’m cuckoo for coconuts,” she drawled, rolling her eyes.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. What I think, what I believe, is that this world and this life were never meant to be permanent, and for Christians, death is just the door to eternity, which will be spent in Heaven,
where there will be no illness. Ever. If that’s not healing, I don’t know what is.”
While she considered that, the Chatam sisters and Kent came strolling down the sidewalk toward the town car. Just before they drew alongside his vehicle, Hypatia stumbled on a perfectly level pavement and went to her knees, catching herself on the heels of her hands. Brooks yanked open his car door and leaped out, reaching her before the others got over their shock well enough to react.
“Hypatia?”
He could see that she was panting and trembling, her face pale in the light of the streetlamp. Easing her onto one hip, he laid the back of his hand against her forehead, finding it cool and clammy. Quickly, he checked her pulse, which was rapid but slowing.
“S-silly of me.”
She shivered violently, her head jerking to one side.
“Let’s get you off this cold ground,” Brooks said, rising and taking her with him, his hands fixed firmly beneath her arms. She seemed to weigh little more than a bird, but then she’d always been small. Still, she seemed brittle, fragile somehow. He turned her toward the town car, walking slowly and carefully. “All right?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She lifted a hand to her hair, as if a strand of it would dare to fall out of place. “I feel so foolish, tripping like that.”
Brooks glanced behind them, and saw nothing whatsoever to cause anyone to trip. “I’d like you to come in for a checkup,” he told her, keeping his voice light. He didn’t realize that Eva had come to help until she opened the car door for Hypatia, who smiled and nodded.
“Yes, dear. If you say so.”
“It would put my mind at ease.”
She reached up and patted his cheek. “I’ll call tomorrow.”
He bent down and kissed her forehead. “I look forward to it.”
Kent had handed Odelia down into the front passenger seat and come around to the driver’s side, while Magnolia had come to stand next to Eva. “Perhaps you’ll help us get Hypatia home,” she suggested, patting Eva’s shoulder. As Hypatia slid to the center of the backseat, Eva sent Brooks an amused look, then nodded and got inside.
“I’ll pick you up for work at seven-thirty in the morning,” Brooks said to Eva before closing the door and walking over to open the other side for Magnolia.
Hypatia reached out a hand to him. “Join us for breakfast,” she invited.
Smiling, he said, “I’ll do that.” Then he backed up and closed the door, happy enough to have Eva off his hands for a while, despite the unsettling episode with Hypatia. He forgot sometimes that the aunties were growing older. Now if only he could forget Eva Belle Russell for ten hours or so.
* * *
Despite a restless night, Eva rose early the next morning and dressed with care. She looped her long hair in a heavy, sleek bun at the nape of her neck, then added dark mascara and a touch of shiny translucent red lip gloss. She told herself that she wanted to make a good impression on the other employees, but certain words kept running through her mind.
They know I’m attracted to you. They know I’m attracted to you...
The whole thing was insane, of course. Even if he were attracted to her, he wouldn’t act on it. Why would he given her condition, his past and the fact that he doubtlessly had to do little more than snap his fingers to have women falling all over him? Yet, she swabbed on that lip gloss.
Not only that shocking after-dinner revelation had kept her tossing and turning, however. Little Bri Chatam had nearly brought Eva to her knees, so like Ricky was she. Oh, he’d nearly grown up now, but his baby pictures would show a virtual twin to Morgan and Lyla Simone’s little girl. Eva had found herself near tears, swamped with memories of those halcyon days when she’d still believed that her husband actually loved her and they would grow old together, raising their son to adulthood. She’d even dared to plan a second child.
Most disturbing of all the events that had kept her awake through the night, though, had been the prayer meeting. Her aunt’s church went in for a much more demonstrative and emotional kind of service, with the pastor demanding that folks publicly confess their sins and that evil spirits come out of them. Eva had heard some hair-curling confessions at those meetings, but she’d never heard her aunt confess her meanness and hypercriticism. All that had happened last night was that people had prayed for others, sometimes simply, sometimes eloquently but always sincerely and quietly. She’d felt a strange power in that place, as well as an inexplicable kind of peace, and yet, illness and trouble remained. She had no doubt of that!
So what was the point? Brooks’s comments to her in the car after the meeting kept playing through her head. No one has a right to healing. His forgiveness is there for anyone willing to ask for it, but healing...is received as God wills...We can trust that God always chooses the action that is best for all concerned... She didn’t understand it all, but his words woke a kind of longing in her that she couldn’t quite identify—and she worked so hard not to want what she couldn’t have. She often exhausted herself trying not to want what she couldn’t have.
Dressed to meet the day, she went downstairs, hung her handbag and coat on the newel post at the bottom of the steps, and hurried to the sunroom for a breakfast sumptuous enough to make Eva weep with joy. Odelia and Kent were already at the table. Brooks showed up right after the coffee with Eva’s prescriptions, three bottles of pills, one to be taken with meals, one at bedtime, one in the morning on an empty stomach. Magnolia came in on the doctor’s handsome heels. They were halfway through the meal before Brooks wondered aloud what could be keeping Hypatia.
“I’ve never known her to sleep in.”
Magnolia snorted primly. “I expect she rose early and has already eaten, trying to prove how hale she is after last night’s little mishap.”
“No,” Hilda said, coming into the room with a basket of fresh biscuits. “She hasn’t come to the table yet.”
Brooks frowned around the table. “Has anyone checked on her?”
Magnolia’s brow furrowed. “I’ll go.”
No sooner had she left the room, however, than Brooks tossed his napkin onto the table, saying, “I don’t like this. Not after that fall last night.”
Odelia looked troubled. “She has seemed...not herself lately.”
Brooks shot to his feet and took off after Magnolia. Odelia glanced worriedly at her husband and went after Brooks, Kent lumbering along behind her. Dropping her fork, Eva followed, catching the unmistakable whiff of alarm. By the time she reached the head of the stairs, she could hear Magnolia shrieking for Brooks, who had already disappeared. Eva hurried after Odelia and Kent, resisting the urge to push past them through the door to the suite shared by the sisters. She skirted them in the sitting room, somewhat surprised by its comfortable shabbiness, and strode boldly into the small bedroom where Magnolia stood with her hands clapped to her face, staring at the floor.
Brooks knelt there over a crumpled Hypatia, who looked tiny and fragile in navy silk pajamas piped in ivory, her long, silver hair caught at her nape in a ponytail coming undone while she gasped for breath, her lips a ghastly blue, her eyes open but dull and unseeing. Brooks held her limp wrist while staring at his watch. After a few seconds, he looked up.
“Kent, we need chewable aspirin. I have it in my bag in the car if there’s none in the house. Eva, dial 9-1-1. Use the phone on the bedside table. Don’t hang up. I need to speak with dispatch personally.”
Kent hurried from the room at a trot. Eva slipped around to the bedside table and lifted the telephone receiver. Hypatia whispered something then. Brooks leaned close, listened and nodded.
“Yes, dear, I know. I’m going to lift you onto the bed now.”
The emergency operator came on the line. “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Eva drew a blank for a moment, then stammered, “O-one of the Chatams h-has co
llapsed. Dr. Leland wants an ambulance a-at Chatam House right away.”
The operator, a woman, didn’t even ask for an address. Instead, she said, “Your name?”
“Eva Russell.” Brooks had scooped up Hypatia and carefully laid her on the bed. Now he held out a hand for the telephone receiver. Eva said, “Hang on. Dr. Leland wants to speak to you.” Then she gave him the cordless receiver.
He stepped into the corner and turned his back to the room, speaking softly. While he did so, Odelia and Magnolia huddled together, alternately staring at him and Hypatia, their lips moving in silent prayer. Hypatia, meanwhile, panted weakly upon the narrow four-poster bed. Frightened for her, Eva stepped close and reached for Hypatia’s hand. To her surprise and relief, the fingers that immediately clasped hers contained a ropy strength. Eva squeezed, and Hypatia’s blue lips curved slightly.
Encouraged, Eva leaned forward and whispered, “It’s okay. Brooks is here. He’ll take care of everything.”
Hypatia’s eyes slitted open.
Taking heart, Eva quipped, “You picked a good time. The doc was in the house.” Using her free hand, she flipped Hypatia a thumbs up. Hypatia’s lips quirked, and she turned her free hand so that her thumb pointed up.
Kent returned then. Brooks hung up the phone, took the pill bottle and began poking tablets into Hypatia’s mouth with the instruction to chew. Eva let go of her hand and went into the bathroom for a glass of water. When she returned, Brooks helped her lift up enough to drink, then he asked Eva to sit with her while he took Magnolia, Odelia and Kent into the other room. They returned mere moments later. Tears dripped from Odelia’s eyes, and Magnolia looked decidedly grim. Chester arrived with Brooks’s medical bag, then left to let in the emergency personnel. Brooks performed a quick examination.
Hypatia seemed to be resting more comfortably when the ambulance arrived just minutes later. Brooks stood by like a benign overseer while the technicians did their work. As soon as the gurney cleared the suite, followed by the Chatam sisters and Kent, Brooks took Eva aside on the landing.