Season of Blessing

by Beverly LaHaye

  His hands trembled as he drove to the church. The parking lot was full, so he parked on a side street. The small sanctuary would be packed, he thought. Parents and grandparents had probably come to laugh and applaud at their own children’s roles.

  He hurried to the front door, hoping he hadn’t missed too much. He opened the door, and heard the opening song that Joseph, Rachel, and Leah had sung for weeks around the house.

  He stepped in and saw the colorful set and all the children in their various costumes. Leah and Rachel stood behind Spencer, who was hamming it up in a white sparkly Elvis jumpsuit, while Joseph stood on the other side of the stage, dressed like a businessman. He glanced up at the landing at the back of the room, where Daniel sat, flicking switches and moving spotlights.

  He slipped into the back pew and grinned as the play began with a boy on a skateboard, gliding across the stage, and gangsters coming along to beat him up and leave him for dead. The story of the Good Samaritan began.

  David was glad he had come.

  Brenda watched the show from behind the curtains on the side of the makeshift stage. The children were in top form. The butterflies in Joseph’s stomach seemed to have settled, and he was hamming it up.

  When the opening scene ended, Joseph rushed toward her.

  “Mama! Dad’s here. He really came!”

  Brenda was sure Joseph was mistaken. The lights made it difficult to see the audience clearly. “Are you sure, honey?”

  “Yes! He’s sitting at the back.”

  Brenda peeked around the curtain, but the church was too dark.

  The audience laughed raucously as Spencer strutted across the stage, Leah and Rachel prancing behind him, at least two heads taller than the small Elvis.

  When Leah and Rachel’s scene ended and they came behind the curtain, they both began to jump up and down. “Mama! Dad’s here.”

  It must be true, Brenda thought. Please let it be true!

  Tory scurried backstage to congratulate her son. He high-fived her, then accepted her fussy hug.

  “Don’t mess me up, Mommy. I have to go out for the end.”

  Tory laughed and let her son go. “Brenda, you didn’t tell me David was coming.”

  Brenda swallowed the emotion in her throat. “He didn’t tell me.”

  “Well, he’s out there laughing his head off.”

  As Tory hurried back to her seat, Brenda touched her chest and whispered a heartfelt prayer of thanks. God had managed to get David through that door.

  Maybe it was just the beginning.

  CHAPTER

  Eleven

  Sylvia was up before dawn, three hours before the doctor’s office would open. Even after that, it could be hours before they called.

  She made her coffee and took it outside.

  Sitting on her back porch, she watched as the sun came up over the mountains, first in a gray light that slowly gave way to a pale blue, then to a bright blue, then to a burst of orange as day exploded. A cool breeze blew through her brown hair. She had let it grow too long in León, and the frosted color she had left with had slowly evolved into the brown she’d had growing up. It was easier to color over her gray with a solid color than to highlight it every few weeks. Sarah, her daughter, had sent her the L’Oreal products from the States every month or so. Getting her hair cut was one of the items on her agenda before she went back.

  She swept it behind her ear and pulled her thoughts back to God’s art. Whatever man tried to do was a poor imitation. Everyone needed to see at least one Smoky Mountain daybreak to appreciate true art.

  She went back in and refilled her coffee, checked the time. Only seven o’clock. She had to stop this. She couldn’t sit here and wait…

  She went to the front window and looked out on the driveway. That phantom paperboy who only communicated through an envelope in the Sunday edition had already left today’s paper. Though their subscription had been canceled long ago, he’d left her one since she’d been home, no doubt hoping she’d resubscribe.

  She went outside, up the lonely driveway, and retrieved it. She heard a door close and looked around, waiting to see who might be coming out.

  Annie strode out of her house in a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts. Barefoot, she headed up her own driveway and grabbed the paper.

  “Up early, Annie?” Sylvia called across the yard.

  Annie started. “You scared me. I didn’t expect anybody to be out here.”

  Sylvia crossed the grass. Annie’s long brown hair looked as if she’d just gotten out of bed, and her eyes were sleepy and unadorned. She had seen Annie that way every morning for the year they’d been together in León. Her heart burst with love for the girl.

  “I’ve missed you.” She reached out and hugged her.

  “Me too,” Annie said. “I got so used to getting up early down there that I can’t sleep late to save my life. It’s just not right, you know? People my age are supposed to sleep till noon.”

  Sylvia laughed. “Well, since you’re up, you want to go for a walk with me? Or did you have your heart set on reading that paper?”

  Annie glanced down at the paper and raked her hand through her tangled hair. “No, I can read it later. Just let me go get my shoes on.”

  “I’ll be on my back porch.”

  Sylvia watched as the girl ran back into the house.

  “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. Annie was just what she needed today.

  Annie bounced around the house a few minutes later, her hair brushed back into a ponytail and her tennis shoes on.

  Her face was brighter than it had been moments before. “I’m ready. Where do you want to go?”

  “I thought we’d walk out to the barn. I haven’t been back there since we sold the horses. Then we can walk through the woods, unless it starts getting too hot.”

  “Hot?” Annie laughed as Sylvia came down from the porch. “This is nothing compared to where we’ve been. I can’t wait for winter. I missed snow. Imagine if we could gather up all our kids from León and bring them here for the winter. Wouldn’t they get a kick out of the snow?”

  “Oh, that would be so much fun. I’d love to watch little Juan build a snowman. I read him Frosty the Snowman once. He was captivated.”

  Annie reached the barn before Sylvia and opened the door. “I wonder what they’re doing today. It’s Thursday, so they have art.”

  “Yeah, and music. They’re working on their program. It’s just a few days away.”

  Annie shook her head. “Man, I hate missing that.”

  Sylvia stepped into the barn and looked around at the empty stalls. It still smelled of horses and hay, even though the place hadn’t been occupied for almost four years.

  She went to the stall where Sunshine, her favorite horse, used to be.

  “Do you miss the horses?”

  “Sometimes.” She rested her arms on the stall door. “But we sold them for a good cause.”

  “For Joseph’s transplant.” Annie’s voice was soft, nostalgic.

  “We would have had to sell them eventually, anyway, when we left the country.”

  Annie got quiet, and Sylvia realized that melancholy was setting in again. “Let’s go walk and see what’s in bloom.”

  They followed the old path where Sylvia used to ride her horse. The sun had grown bright, and dusty rays cut through the tree branches and cast a golden light on the path ahead of them.

  “Look at that,” Sylvia said. “‘A light unto my path…’”

  “‘A lamp unto my feet,’” Annie finished. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

  Sylvia glanced over at her. “A sign?”

  “Yeah.” Annie broke off a branch and began peeling off its leaves. “For today. You know. The phone call you’re waiting for.”

  Sylvia stopped and faced the girl. “How did you know I’m waiting for a call?”

  “Well, I knew you were getting the results today. I’d be waiting.” She dropped the stick and dusted her hands on her shorts. �
�I just meant that maybe God lit up our path like that to tell you something.”

  Sylvia smiled. “What, Annie? What is he telling me?”

  “That whatever happens, you won’t go into it alone. You won’t be groping through the darkness. He’ll light your way.”

  Sylvia looked at the path again. “Thanks, Annie. I think that’s just what he’s saying.”

  “I mean, I’m not expecting the news to be bad or anything,” Annie said. “Not at all. It’s probably going to be good news. I’ve just been a little nervous because you’ve been feeling so bad lately…Bad enough to come home.”

  “It’s anemia, Annie. That’s probably all.”

  “Yeah, I know.” But Sylvia knew she didn’t believe that for a moment. Annie turned away, scanning the trees. She knew the girl was hiding tears, and for the first time she wondered if her worry for Sylvia was what had gotten her up so early today.

  “Whatever the news is, I’ll be okay,” Sylvia said. “You know that, don’t you?”

  Annie still didn’t look at her. “I know.” She wiped her eyes, then quickly looked back toward the house. “Shouldn’t we go back? It’s probably almost eight by now. They could call.”

  Sylvia looked at her watch. Annie was right. “I guess so. The sooner I get that call, the sooner we can all breathe a sigh of relief and I can get back to León.”

  Annie’s smile was strained. “Wish I could go.”

  They started walking back, slower than they’d come. “Are you excited about school, Annie?”

  “A little. I’m looking forward to it, but I feel like I’ve left so much undone back in León.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “I want to go back again,” Annie said. “I’m going to start saving now.”

  “We’d love for you to come back.”

  “I would have just stayed, you know, but I missed my family and my friends. And I figured I’d never meet a guy if I stayed there. I really want to marry an American, and I wasn’t likely to meet one there, unless I happened on a tourist.”

  “No, Annie, you did the right thing. You have plenty of time for the mission field if the Lord calls you to it.”

  Annie’s grin was back as they emerged out of the woods. “Since I’ve been back, though, I’ve realized that I don’t really like any of the guys I used to date. They’re not right for me. I wonder what I ever saw in them.”

  Annie was growing up, Sylvia thought. She had learned to see her life through more mature eyes.

  “I want a godly man, like Dr. Harry,” she said. “Like Steve. A man who answers to God. That way I’ll know he’ll never cheat on me.”

  Sylvia knew Annie had a hard time trusting men because of her father’s infidelity. Her family had been torn apart because of that.

  But Annie would be okay. She was too precious to fall through the cracks, and Sylvia would never stop praying for her.

  They got back to Sylvia’s porch, and Annie hung back. “Well, I’d better get home before my mother starts wondering where I am. If she notices I’m not there, she’ll think I was abducted by aliens or something.”

  Sylvia smiled. “I enjoyed our walk. Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Anytime.” Annie gave her a hug. “I’ll be praying for you today.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sylvia watched as the girl tromped across the yard and headed home.

  Somehow, she didn’t feel the heaviness she had felt earlier that morning. She felt equipped now for the wait that lay before her, because she knew that one of God’s favorite children was praying.

  It was after lunch before the phone finally rang. Sylvia snatched it up. Her hand trembled as she tried to punch the “on” button. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Bryan, this is Dr. Phillips’ office.” The woman spoke in a flat monotone. “Dr. Phillips would like to speak to you. Could you hold a moment, please?”

  “Of course.” She held her breath as her doctor came to the phone.

  “Sylvia, hi.” His voice was low, serious.

  She swallowed. “Hi, Al. Any news?”

  He sighed. “I’m afraid the mass in your breast is malignant.”

  It was as if she sat in an echo chamber, and that word reverberated around her. Malignant. Malignant. Malignant.

  She tried to center her thoughts back on his words. Something about getting her an appointment with the surgeon, about possible mastectomy, about radiation and chemotherapy, but none of it registered. The word still rolled around in her head trying to plant itself. Malignant. Malignant. Malignant.

  “Sylvia, are you listening?”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes. What’s my next step?”

  He seemed to understand that she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “I’m making you an appointment with Dr. Jefferson. You remember Sam, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I remember him.”

  “He specializes in breast cancer surgery, Sylvia. He’s the best in town. I’m going to try to get you in for tomorrow. As soon as I tell them who you are, that you’re Harry Bryan’s wife, I’m sure they’ll get you right in.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Sylvia, I recommend that you go to the bookstore and get some books on this, try to understand what your different options might be so that when Sam recommends them you’ll understand. And remember that breast cancer is usually pretty slow-growing, so you have time. You don’t have to make a decision in the next few hours. You have time to get Harry home and to talk things over with him and get some second and third opinions.”

  The thought of telling Harry snagged her mind. He would have questions. He’d want details. What would he want to know? “Al, can you tell how bad it is?”

  “I can tell you that the tumor looks to be about three centimeters. That’s larger than I would have liked. It has poorly defined margins, which is also not a very good sign. I’ll know a lot more when we get a pathology report on the tumor itself after it’s removed, and Sam will probably want to take some lymph nodes.” He paused. “Sylvia, are you all right?”

  She ran her fingers through her hair, trying again to focus. “Yes,” she said, “I’m fine. Thank you for calling, Al.”

  “No problem. Sylvia, I’ll call Harry if you want me to. I can explain things to him.”

  “No, that’s all right. I’ll do it. I just don’t want him to rush home. His work there is so important.”

  “Sylvia, he needs to come home. How much surgery you have is up to you and the doctor, but I wouldn’t go through this alone. Harry wouldn’t want you to. Tell him everything, Sylvia. Don’t hold it back.”

  Her eyes stung with tears by the time she got off the phone, and she sat there staring into the air. Moments ticked by, and she didn’t move.

  The phone rang again, startling her.

  “Hello?” It didn’t even sound like her voice.

  “Sylvia, it’s Al again. I just wanted to let you know that Dr. Jefferson’s office had a cancellation this afternoon. You can go at three o’clock if you’d like.”

  She nodded, as though he could see. “Yes, I might as well get this over with.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of questions,” he said. “I’d recommend that you take a tape recorder with you so you can remember everything later. You might take a friend, too, just to be there with you.”

  Her hand trembled as she brought it to her forehead. “I’m not ready to tell anybody yet. I’m going alone.”

  “Whatever you think is best. And, Sylvia, call me if you have any questions. Harry, too.”

  “I will.”

  She hung up the phone and decided that she didn’t have time to stare into space. Her problem was in her breast, not her brain. She had a tumor, and it could be removed. She might not even need a mastectomy. Lumpectomies were just as successful these days. Maybe they could quickly pull it out on an outpatient basis, and she wouldn’t have to have radiation or chemo or anything. The sooner she took care of it, the sooner she could return to Nicara
gua and pick up with her work as if nothing had ever happened.

  But as she prepared for her appointment she realized that that probably wasn’t the case. Poorly defined margins. She knew what that meant from dealing with her mother’s cancer. It meant that the cancer wasn’t contained in a bubblelike wall. It had seeped out, into the tissue. It wouldn’t be as easy to remove as it would if the margins were well-defined.

  The phone sat on the desk before her, like a live being challenging her. She needed to pick it up and call Harry, but she knew he would panic and drop everything to come home. No, she needed more information before she called him. She would wait until after the appointment with Sam Jefferson. She looked in the mirror, struggling with the surprising anger that her body had betrayed her in such a way. Her intuition had failed her.

  Pulling herself together, she drove her rental car to Radio Shack and bought a little handheld recorder to take with her.

  The doctor’s office felt like Montreal in January. Though it was August, and the thermometer outside read eighty-five degrees, Sylvia wished she’d worn her coat.

  Sam Jefferson seemed pleased to see her. “How have you and Harry been?” he asked as he ushered her into his office.

  “We’ve been fine.” She took a chair while he settled behind his desk. She tried to keep her voice level, polite. “Working hard, though.”

  “Yeah? Harry practicing cardiology down there, or has he branched out?”

  “He’s more of a general practitioner now. He has a medical clinic that takes care of everything from sore throats to gangrene. He puts in about twelve hours a day. We’ve really come to love the people.”

  The doctor smiled and looked down at her chart. “Well, you guys really have guts doing what you’re doing. I’ve thought of doing a medical mission trip. It sounds really rewarding.”

  “I’m sure Harry would love to have you come to León for a couple of weeks if you ever want to.”

  She was stalling. She knew that, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to jump into this discussion. What if she couldn’t handle the truth?

  But they couldn’t go on making small talk forever.