Blue Ridge Setup

by Kimberly Rae

  “Apple pie!” Jose’s eyes went about as round as apples. “Can I have some?”

  “Does that mean you were going to invite me for supper?” Doctor Bradley was smiling, his teeth gleaming white in his tanned face.

  Ryan had to smile as he began a sketchy blueprint for the tree house — alone, as Jose was playing with small pieces of scrap wood and his two other helpers were not helping at all. He looked across the yard toward Kayla’s window with a sigh.

  She was so close. He hoped she was getting the rest she needed. He wished he could ask her how she was feeling. He longed to be near enough to see for himself that she would be all right.

  Instead, he prayed for her as he made measurements, looking up every once in awhile to the window of her room, wondering what was happening behind those closed lace curtains.

  ****

  Kayla heard the muted sounds of talking and laughing. The doctor and her aunt were at it again. When Ryan’s voice was added to the mix, Kayla sat upright in bed. He was here. Would he come see her? Would he sit and visit with her?

  The sounds began drifting away rather than closer. Kayla rose shakily from the bed and hobbled toward the curtain. She lifted one edge to see the doctor, her aunt, Ryan, and little Jose, all heading across the yard toward the shed.

  Filled with a disappointment that bordered on pain, Kayla returned to her bed and sunk down in its billowy layers of comfort. He was working. He would rather build something than come and spend time with her.

  It made sense. It would probably feel like a waste of time to just come and sit by her side. She shouldn’t expect him to act like… like what? A boyfriend would? But even a regular friend would take the time to come and say hello after all those days in the hospital, wouldn’t he?

  Then again, what did she know about guys and how they worked? Her own father had not come to be with her through the surgery. He had called, saying he was praying for her, and apologizing that he couldn’t be there — important conference at the church and pressing meetings — the usual excuses. He had not said that he hated hospitals, but he had not needed to. He had not said that he could not accept sickness, but that also had not needed to be verbalized.

  Maybe Ryan felt the same way. Maybe he saw her as a worthwhile person when she was well and could contribute, but not worth bothering with otherwise. Maybe that was why he was in the shed right now instead of with her. He was waiting to see if she would get better — not be just a sick person anymore.

  After all, what good could a sick person be?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Kayla, you’ve had major surgery. This isn’t the kind of thing you can bounce back from easily. Especially with your disease. You can hope to have small improvements every day, but as you taper down on the high doses of steroids you’ve been on, your body is going to be weak and tired, and you need rest to help it heal.”

  Kayla only half-listened to the doctor’s speech. Her side hurt. Her body felt as limp as a used washrag. Every once in awhile, she’d feel like she had some energy, but just a walk across the room would zap it away again.

  “Look at that walkway over there that Ryan is building.” Doctor Bradley was gesturing across the yard and did not see Kayla wince. Not the walkway again. “See how slowly he’s having to work to make sure it is done right? He’s improving it little by little, day by day, knowing that if he continues to work at it with patience, he will have a great end result. If he tries to rush things, he’ll end up with a sloppy result that would be not only unsightly, but dangerous.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Kayla mumbled under her breath. Apparently no one had informed Doctor Bradley that the walkway had been used as an illustration for her already.

  Besides, she had no desire to have her attention directed to where Ryan had been working all morning. It had been hard enough to keep from staring at him when she had emerged that morning. The way his eyes lit up when he saw her filled her with an unreasonable desire to throw herself in his arms. Fortunately, her body could not have obeyed such a rash command, even had she momentarily lost her senses. Instead, she’d shuffled toward the swing while he’d rushed inside to find her blanket and had tucked it around her legs once she’d sat.

  “Thank you,” she had whispered.

  His eyes had searched hers, deeply, and he had opened his mouth to speak when Laverne and the doctor announced their arrival. Kayla watched regret fill Ryan’s eyes as he backed away to give them room with her.

  Kayla knew her own eyes were asking him to stay, but the doctor began asking questions about her health, and finally Ryan turned and wandered back to the half-completed walkway, where he had been ever since, working meticulously on each portion, making it perfect.

  Perhaps the doctor was right. She needed to be more patient with her expectations for her recovery. Patience, however, had never been a strong component of her character.

  Effort, now that she could do. “So what can I do to help speed this along?”

  ****

  After a mid-morning nap, a snack, then another nap, Kayla woke to a tiny burst of energy. She used it to wrap herself in the pink crocheted blanket and wobble outside to sit on the swing.

  The moment Ryan saw her, he dropped his tools and jogged across the yard. “Hi! I didn’t get to say it yesterday, so, welcome home.”

  Something about the way his voice said the word home made her want to cry. She was not even sure if it was a good cry or bad cry. Her emotions were all over the place lately. The doctor said it would be that way, going down on the medication, but good grief, she was starting to feel like an emotional bobble-head.

  “Hi. Thanks.” Her lips curved. “The walkway looks great. Much better than your earlier rendition.”

  He shrugged in sheepish agreement. “Just doing what I’m getting paid for.”

  She had no desire to discuss that topic again. “Would you like to sit for a minute? If I had some, I’d offer you some tea or water, but… all I’ve got is me.”

  “You’re enough for me,” he said, then balked when her eyes widened. “Um, well, I mean…” She saw red tinting his neck and watched with amusement as he picked up a towel among his tools to wipe his face and then wrap across his neck casually, as if to cool his neck rather than cover his embarrassment. “I’d love to sit with you,” he said, though his steps backed away rather than coming forward, “but I’ve been working out in the hot sun all day and probably don’t smell like a bed of lilies or roses or whatever the saying is.”

  Kayla’s gaze took in his entire presence. The man had no idea how very male he looked, standing there in dirty jeans and a sweaty T-shirt, the dampness curling his dark hair. He was overpowering, as he suspected, but not for any of the reasons he’d mentioned.

  “Come and sit, please,” she said again. “You may recall my days in the hospital when I had huge tubes sticking out of my skin, and I probably had that ucky hospital smell — but you stuck around.”

  “When they’d let me,” he said with chagrin. “Boy, do they have tight rules about not letting in non-immediate family members. I almost asked you to marry me just so I could come and visit more often.”

  When Ryan balked again, choking on his own statement, Kayla let out a laugh, then grasped her ribcage. “Oh, laughing hurts.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I wished you could have come more often,” she heard herself say, then she looked down at her hands, shrugging to pretend the comment was made lightly. “It gets really boring being stuck in there all day long.”

  His eyes were on her. She could feel them. But instead of facing them, she turned to look at the walkway instead.

  They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. When Kayla sighed, Ryan turned to her. “What is it?”

  “Can I ask you a question of a spiritual nature… you know, as if you were my associate pastor?”

  He grinned. “Well, I sort of would be if you’d ever come to church.”

  Her responding smile quickly faded. “I
’m serious.”

  Ryan shifted to face her fully. “I see that. I’ll try to help if I can.”

  He reached and took her hand, and she had a hard time thinking of him as a spiritual advisor when he was rubbing his thumb gently across the skin of her palm.

  “Um… do you do that with everybody who comes to you with spiritual questions?”

  Ryan dropped her hand as if it had just caught fire. “Sorry. Uh, no. That would be a first.”

  “Oh, um, okay. Just wondering.” She fingered the blanket. “Well, ever since my mom got sick, I’ve wondered about something. And now that I’m sick, I wonder it even more. My dad seemed to think of sickness as a sort of evil, as in if you just resisted it enough, or prayed enough, or kept going and pretended it wasn’t there, it would go away. His health was always like that. He never seemed to get sick — maybe germs were as intimidated by him as I was—” She half-laughed, then sobered again. “When my mom got sick and started having to cancel a lot of her church ministries, my dad got angry. He said she was quitting, giving in. He blamed her for not getting better.”

  She looked off to the back section of the yard where a stack of wood lay piled near a tree. “The thing is, my dad was right in the fact that my mom’s ministry was limited by her illness, and then of course it stopped when she died. Why wouldn’t God fix it so she could keep doing all the things she had been doing in the church?”

  Ryan picked up her hand again. “And why wouldn’t He fix yours, so you could stay on the mission field?”

  She nodded mutely.

  “Kayla, I don’t have all the answers for why God does or doesn’t do certain things. Like when a baby dies, or there’s a school shooting, or little kids like Jose are scared to go home. Sometimes there is no answer here on this earth for why things like that happen. When I studied missions, I remember reading about all kinds of people who went to the field and died shortly after from diseases. Others were killed for sharing their faith.”

  “Yes, but they didn’t quit. They didn’t give up.”

  “You think that because you got sick that means you quit?”

  “I know that’s what my dad will think.”

  “Well, then your dad is wrong.”

  This time it was she who grasped his hand. “Ryan, I had a long talk with Doctor Bradley this morning. He told me Addison’s isn’t a disease you have and get over. There’s no cure. He says I’ll have to take steroid pills every day for the rest of my life, and I’ll have to monitor my condition and change my dosage based on my health, and… and basically, he point-blank told me that I can never go overseas again. Not ever, even for a visit.” She dropped her head. “Ryan, I feel like such a failure. Why would God do this to me?”

  Ryan lifted her chin with a gentle hand. “I’m not the voice of God, of course,” he said with a tender smile, “but have you thought about the fact that maybe God is trying to show you that your worth is not in how much you do for Him, or if you have a ministry role, or if you rescue street kids? That maybe He’s trying to show you that even if you’re sick, and can’t do much of anything at all, that you are just as precious and as beautiful to Him?”

  “Do you really think God is like that?”

  “I know He is.”

  Her eyes searched his. “How do you know?”

  He softly cupped her cheek with his hand. “I know because it’s that way for me. To me, you are just as valuable and beautiful right here and now, wrapped in that blanket, not able to do anything, as you would be if you were running the Bible Club the teens are starting next week. I would love to see you healthy and strong and having more energy to do the things you love, but not having that does not change your worth to me, and if it doesn’t to me, then it certainly doesn’t to God.”

  Kayla’s eyes were wide and full of unshed tears. “But why would He give me this heart to serve Him if He won’t give me the ability?”

  “You really want to know what I think?” His eyes on her were wary.

  Kayla swallowed once, then nodded yes.

  “I think most of your heart for ministry started really as a desire to make your father proud of you or to earn his love. I think perhaps God is removing your ability to minister so you can learn to just be loved by Him, and then when the time is right and you can minister out of responsive love rather than guilt or a sense of duty, then He will send you the ministry He has for you. It might be different or even less than you’d planned, but it will still be right if He is the One who picks it for you.”

  She stared at the collar of his T-shirt for so long he finally said, “Did I say too much?”

  At that, her gaze lifted to his eyes. “Ryan, thank you.” Her eyes were searching again, but not searching him. “I’m not sure I can really, truly believe the idea of being valuable when I can’t do anything of value. But I’m going to go inside now and talk to God about it and see what His Word says about it.”

  Politely, she put her hand out to shake his. “Thank you, Pastor Cummings.”

  He took the hand offered. “Start with Psalm 139. Then read that verse again in Zephaniah — Zephaniah 3:17 — that you were telling me about.”

  He lifted the hand he still held and placed a kiss upon her fingers.

  Kayla rose slowly from the swing. Ryan helped her back toward the door.

  She yawned. “Maybe I’ll take a little nap first.” She yawned again. “I had no idea it was possible to take so many naps, or to be so tired.” She looked up at him. “But I will get to this, and… can we talk about it again sometime?”

  His gaze conveyed his sincerity. “I look forward to it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Miss Kayla, it’s been just great. You wouldn’t believe how many kids have come. They’re so much like the street kids in Pakistan — they’re bored and the smallest little things make them so happy. I just want to hug them all.”

  Kayla sat on the swing, thankful that Ryan’s special lever was in place to keep it still. “Jainey, I’m so impressed with you. I think you have found your niche.”

  Jainey hung her head. “Well, I have to admit thinking about others has helped me keep my mind off myself. Helps keep certain temptations away. And those kids.” She looked up. “Some of them come so hungry. They’re grateful for any little snack. It’s really showing me what I have to be thankful for.”

  She flipped her jet-black hair back. “But enough about me. How are you doing?”

  “A tiny bit better every day.” Kayla’s smile was wry. “I can’t believe how long it’s taking to recover, but the doctor keeps telling me to be patient.”

  “Ugh, I hate having to be patient.”

  Kayla grinned. “Me, too. But I’m learning to appreciate the small steps. I get my staples out tomorrow.”

  “Staples!” Jainey shrieked. “They stapled you?”

  Kayla nodded. “Mmm-hmm. That big cut they made in my side, instead of sewing it shut, they stapled it, so tomorrow, he’ll yank out the staples, and that’s supposed to be better than having to take out stitches, though I do have to get the threads pulled out from where they sewed up the drain tube holes.”

  Jainey had gone completely pale.

  Kayla put a hand out. “I’m sorry, Jainey! I didn’t mean to gross you out.”

  “Wow, no, it’s okay. I just — it just makes me feel awful thinking about what you went through.” She bit her lip. “Don’t get mad at me for asking, but… could I see the staples?”

  Kayla laughed. “Sure, as long as you promise not to pass out on me.” She shifted on the swing, then stood. “Actually it will be nice to show somebody. They are quite impressive, but Aunt Lavender says she’d faint dead away if I showed her, and it’s not like I can show them to anyone else.”

  Turning to her left side, Kayla reached to lift her shirt several inches to the surgery site, exposing an eight-inch long incision, still red but healing, punctuated by a large staple every half-inch. Underneath, the skin was tied closed by surgical thread in two se
parate places where the drain tubes had been inserted. The entire area was shaded by blue and green bruising.

  Jainey sat on the swing and began fanning herself. “Wow, that was way worse than I thought. I can’t believe they shoved staples in you. I am so glad I’m not going with you to the doctor tomorrow. If I saw them yank those things out, I think I’d hurl. Are you scared?”

  “Not really. I mean, I’m nervous about it hurting a bit, but it’s not going to be anything like how it hurt before. I’m thankful for those staples actually. They, and the doctor who put them in, saved my life.”

  Jainey looked down, letting her hair fall over her face. “I’m sure glad they did.”

  Kayla dropped her shirt, reached a hand across the space between them, and touched Jainey’s shoulder. “Me, too. It’s nice to get to be around friends like you.”

  ****

  Ryan pulled in deep, shuddering breaths. He had been in the shed, getting more supplies for the walkway, when he’d glanced up and seen Kayla talking with Jainey. He always left the shed door cracked slightly in just the right spot so he could keep an eye on the swing. Ever since the day Kayla had nearly fainted, he wanted to be sure she was safe at all times.

  When she pulled up the side of her shirt, he had started to turn his eyes away when, even from that distance, he saw the long red line where they had cut into her, and the dark bruising all over her skin.

  After that he had no need to turn his eyes away, for they were filled with tears, and he could not even see the tool in his hand. He leaned over the work table and closed his eyes until the sudden dizziness passed. He wished he could take her pain into his own body and suffer in her place. And he wondered if her spiritual scars were just as painful and as raw.

  What he had told her the day before was truer than she would ever understand. Ryan knew God’s love for her was bigger than her abilities. He knew because he loved her, and his love had begun and grown after she had already started showing signs of sickness. He had not even known her before, when she was the version of herself she thought of as valuable.