by Leslie Gould
Chapter Four
THANK YOU FOR STICKING AROUND,” ELENA SAID to Anabelle, as they walked toward their cars, eachcarrying her granddaughter. Lindsay Belle was asleep in Anabelle’s arms and Izzy’s head was nodding. The poor thing had to be exhausted from her ordeal. “We were going to stop for ice cream, but I think we’ll wait for that,” Elena added.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to follow you home?” Anabelle asked.
“Positive,” Elena said. “We’re doing fine. Izzy will sleep.” She smiled. “And I might too.”
By the time she reached the house, Izzy was asleep. Elena eased her out of her booster seat, careful not to bump the little girl’s lip, and lifted her into her arms. Without waking, Izzy wrapped her legs around Elena’s waist. As she reached the back door, she heard a car stop at the front of the house and by the time she was ready to head down the hall, the doorbell rang. She switched directions, figuring if she didn’t answer the door whoever was there might keep ringing. When she eased it open, there was Sarah, Izzy’s mother, wearing an old gray sweatshirt that matched her eyes—and Izzy’s.
“I was in the neighborhood,” she said. “And thought I’d stop by.”
Izzy stirred a little and flopped her head to Elena’s other shoulder, presenting her face toward her mother.
“What happened?” Sarah gasped.
“She’s fine,” Elena said, her voice a whisper, trying to downplay the wound and the bruising that was turning a dark purple. “Just a little playground accident.”
“It looks awful!” Sarah’s pitch was high and her voice loud.
“Shh.” Elena couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want Izzy to wake up to her mother overreacting. And it didn’t look that bad—swollen, sure, and discolored—but not nearly as bad as if she’d had stitches. “Come on in,” Elena said. “I’m going to put her down for a nap, and I’ll be right back.”
But Izzy woke up when Elena eased her onto her bed and refused to nap. “I’m fine,” she said to Elena. “I’m not tired at all.”
In a minute Sarah was in the hallway. “I heard voices,” she said.
“Is that you?” Izzy asked, scrambling off the bed. “Is it Sunday?”
“No, silly,” Elena said. “It’s still Saturday.”
Izzy giggled as she headed toward the hall. “I thought maybe Mommy had come to go to church with us.”
Sarah met Izzy in the doorway and gave her a hug; the woman’s blonde hair fell against her daughter’s dark curls. “Sorry about your boo-boo.”
Izzy touched her lip cautiously and then shrugged. “Are you going to church tomorrow?” The little girl led her mother toward the living room.
“Not tomorrow,” Sarah answered. “I have to work.” She was employed in the cafeteria at Hope Haven and needed to take every shift she could get.
“How about some lunch?” Elena asked. “Tomato soup? Grilled cheese sandwiches?” Izzy could sip the soup through a straw.
“Okay,” Izzy answered.
“Thanks,” Sarah said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
Elena left the two in the living room with a stack of books and headed into her kitchen, to the pantry. By the time she had the soup started and the sandwiches frying in the pan, Izzy was at her side.
“Buela,” she said. “Maybe I should take a nap after all.” She looked up and rubbed her eyes. Sarah stood in the doorway.
Elena kneeled beside her granddaughter. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“My head hurts.”
Elena put her arm around Izzy. “Maybe you’re hungry.”
The little girl shrugged.
“Let’s have lunch.”
Izzy had been given a dose of children’s pain reliever at the hospital, and it would be another couple of hours before Elena could give her more.
Sarah and Izzy helped set the table and then they all sat down. Elena said a blessing, and they began to eat, but Izzy only picked at her food. After a few minutes she excused herself to go lie down, giving Sarah a quick hug on her way.
“She doesn’t have a concussion does she?” Sarah asked after Izzy headed down the hall.
“No. They checked for that.” Elena felt amused at Sarah’s question. “But she could still have a headache from the fall. She landed pretty hard.”
Sarah looked concerned but didn’t say anything more. Elena wondered if she was blaming her for the accident, thinking she hadn’t watched Izzy carefully enough, but she chased that thought away. Accidents happened.
Sarah thanked Elena for lunch and then left a few minutes later, and Elena decided to clean up later and check on Izzy. The little girl was fast asleep. Elena curled up beside her granddaughter, breathing in the little girl’s sweet scent as she guided a strand of long wavy hair away from her face. Izzy stirred a little and scooted toward Elena, fitting her body against her grandmother’s. Elena wrapped her arm around the little girl and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness the injury hadn’t been worse.
Izzy’s head still hurt a little after her nap but by the next morning, as she got ready for Sunday school, she declared that the headache was gone. She wore her green princess dress, a white sweater, and her white dress shoes with the slick bottoms that Elena was constantly reminding her not to run in. Her mouth was even more swollen than the day before and more discolored, but Izzy didn’t seem self-conscious about her wound.
As Elena drove to church, the wind picked up and dark clouds scudded in from the east.
“Why do we need spring showers when we already have April flowers?” Izzy gazed out the window at the daffodils and tulips bending in the breeze.
“It might not rain,” Elena answered.
“Really?” Izzy sounded like a teenager. “’Cause that’s what it looks like to me.”
“You’re probably right.” Elena sighed. Two days of sunshine and then back to the rain. What else did she expect in early spring in Illinois?
After she checked Izzy into her Sunday school class, Izzy carefully explained to the teacher what had happened. Izzy said matter-of-factly that she’d had a playground accident and had to go to the hospital. The teacher patted her shoulder and that was all. Elena was pleased that the teacher had handled the situation with such little drama, but when she picked up Izzy after class, she was surprised to find her granddaughter quiet and withdrawn. They followed her friend Mateo, flanked by both his parents, down the hall. When the little boy turned around and smiled at Izzy as he skipped along, she frowned in return. Elena pulled her aside and asked what was going on, but Izzy stared at her shoes.
“Did Mateo tease you about your lip?”
Izzy shook her head.
“Sweetie, you need to be polite to people.” They continued walking down the hall, now at a distance from Mateo and his parents. It wasn’t like Izzy to be rude or moody.
In the fellowship hall, Elena asked if Izzy wanted a cookie or muffin. She politely said, “No, thank you,” and then backed up against the wall, watching the other children and adults. Elena poured herself a cup of coffee, surprised that Izzy was feeling self-conscious, sure something must have happened during Sunday school.
Ten minutes later, they settled into a pew in the middle of the church. Light streamed in from the stained-glass windows that lined the walls of the church. Christ on the cross with His mother Mary weeping below was to Elena’s right. To her left was a benevolent angel gazing at the empty grave, and beyond that was Christ, in a red robe, knocking on a wooden door, a halo around His head and a purple sky above Him. Izzy usually stared at the windows every Sunday, taking in the story of each, but today she cuddled next to Elena. As the singing began she wiggled closer, and Elena decided she was tired. Yesterday had worn her out. She thought her granddaughter might fall asleep, but when the children were excused for children’s church, Izzy was ready to go.
Elena enjoyed the service, listening intently to the teaching. It was about living in right relationships with both God and others.
She thought of Sarah and the healing that had taken place in her life. She then thought of Rafael and how it was evident, in little ways, that he was learning to forgive Sarah. He wasn’t as hostile to her as he used to be. Elena was thankful that her son was a devoted father to Izzy and would do anything for his little girl. And she’d been impressed the night before when he’d been so gracious to her about Izzy’s hurting herself. He’d been concerned and loving to his daughter and then joked with Elena that Izzy took after him, saying she was a regular chip off the old block. That had made Cesar laugh and he joked with Izzy that if her dad was right, that meant she’d have quite a few more trips to the ER before she grew up.
Cesar. How Elena wished he was sitting beside her. Please, Lord, do whatever it takes to bring him to You, she prayed.
As the last song ended, she slipped out of the pew and out the back of the church, heading down the stairs to the large classroom where they held children’s church. If Izzy was feeling overwhelmed, it would be better to get her outside before the crowd of people began milling around, but when she reached the room full of kids, Izzy was smiling as she colored at a table with Mateo. And when Elena told her it was time to leave, Izzy asked if she could stay a couple of more minutes.
Elena agreed and gathered her granddaughter’s sweater from the hook across the room. Then she sat down carefully in a little chair at the shortened table and began tucking her A-line dress around her legs.
Izzy held up her coloring sheet and pointed to the words at the bottom. “Want to hear our verse for the day?”
Elena nodded.
Izzy turned the paper around so she could read it. “‘Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart,’” she read.
“Oh, Izzy,” Elena said, “what a wonderful verse, and what great reading. Do you know what desire means?”
“My teacher said it means ‘wants.’” The little girl beamed and then winced. Clearly smiling was painful. She said good-bye to Mateo as his parents arrived, and, together, grandmother and granddaughter walked out to the parking lot.
As Elena fastened her into her booster seat, Izzy said, “Buela, do you want to know why I was sad after Sunday school?”
Elena looked in the rearview mirror. “Yes, of course.”
Izzy let out a little sigh. “Well, all the other kids have parents that drop them off and pick them up. I was feeling bad that Mommy couldn’t come today and that Daddy doesn’t come at all.”
Elena started the car. “What happened during children’s church that made you not feel as sad?”
“The verse.”
Elena turned around and looked over the top of the headrest.
“God knows what my heart wants, right?” Izzy had both hands on the padded bar of her booster seat. “And He’ll give it to me.”
Elena hesitated for a moment and then said, “Sweetie, what exactly does your heart want?” A few months ago it had been that her parents would get back together. Was she hoping for that again? “Izzy?”
Finally the little girl said, “I can’t say.”
Elena backed out of the parking space, trying to think of how to talk with her granddaughter about balancing faith and reality. As she pulled onto the street, she said, “Izzy, prayer isn’t like a wish. Telling someone what you prayed for doesn’t have any bearing on whether your prayer is answered or not. The answer is up to God.”
“I know.” Izzy’s voice was light and carefree. “And God cares about what I want, right?”
“Sure,” Elena said. “But what we want isn’t always what’s best—we have to leave that up to God. And if there are other people involved—” She was ready to launch into a talk about free will when Izzy started waving.
“Look! There’s Mateo!”
The boy was walking hand in hand with his parents, but he dropped his father’s hand to wave at Izzy. He was all smiles—and so were his mom and dad.
Chapter Five
MONDAY MORNING, JAMES SAT AT HIS DESK IN his home office and talked on the phone withLeila Hargrave. She confirmed he was out of a job and suggested he come in for the financial settlement from the early termination of his contract as soon as possible.
“Believe me, you will be the next hired, but it might take at least a few weeks, possibly months. I wouldn’t blame you if you looked for something else in the meantime, just in case,” Leila said.
He agreed that was the prudent thing to do. Next he called the hospital in Princeton and asked for the nursing administrator. He was transferred to her voice mail, but before he could leave a message, a recording came on saying there was a hiring freeze. James left a message anyway, saying he would send in a résumé and asked the supervisor to contact him.
Next he found the Web site of Tender Loving Health Care. No job openings were listed, but there were instructions to call about current listings. The agency had branches in Princeton, Peoria, and Deerford. He could travel to Princeton for work but Peoria, at over an hour away, was out of the question. That would be two additional hours a day that he would be away from Fern and the boys.
James picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang and rang and just as he anticipated that call going into voice mail too, the line clicked and a harried voice said, “Hello, Tender Loving Health Care. Missy speaking.”
“Hello, Missy. My name is James Bell. I’m a registered nurse, and I’m calling to inquire about available jobs,” James said.
“I’m in the middle of a…crisis. Could you come down to the office in about an hour?” Before James finished saying he could, she said, “See you then. ’Bye.”
He heard Fern’s walker in the hallway, and moments later she stood in the doorway, asking, “What did you find out?”
He quickly filled her in on what he’d learned in the last few minutes, then said, “The home health place in town is interested in talking with me.” He hoped his voice sounded optimistic. He knew Fern was trying to put on a brave front, but she seemed down.
She made her way into the room and sat down on the love seat, pushing the walker to the side. Her cat, Sapphire, jumped up beside her. “I can help you target your résumé for home health.”
“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the computer and going into the word processor program to open the file. Then he stepped away, and Fern made her way to the office chair. She tweaked a few words. “We should emphasize the wide range of patients you’ve cared for over the years. Accident victims. Stroke patients. People with cancer. Cardiac patients. The kind of people who most need home health… ” She did a little more typing, and James read the changes over her shoulder. They were perfect. It was too bad he didn’t have actual home health experience, but the truth was that he didn’t.
“Thanks,” he said to Fern. “It’s ready to go.”
She clicked Print as James scanned the document again. At the bottom of the page, medic in the US Army was listed. That was how his career had started.
He looked down at his sweatshirt and jeans. He needed to go change, to look presentable. He placed his hands on Fern’s shoulders. “It will work out.”
Fern nodded and spun around in the chair toward him.
He placed his hands on her shoulders again. “God has proven He is faithful, over and over.”
She nodded again. James touched his forehead to hers.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
He lifted his head and gazed intently into her eyes. “For?”
“Taking such good care of all of us.”
What she didn’t understand was that her presence was what motivated him. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. She was the reason he worked as hard as he did. She was the reason he kept moving forward.
Though he didn’t want to, he left her and went to their bedroom to change clothes and then go over to the home health place.
An hour later, he was still waiting in the outer office of Tender Loving Health Care staring at his khaki trousers. Missy, the office manager and the perso
n he had spoken to on the phone, had greeted him quickly and said she would be with him as soon as possible. There was a receptionist’s desk but no receptionist.
James decided to wait another ten minutes. He picked up the news magazine on the chair beside him, again, and flipped through it, searching for anything he might have missed the first two times through it. The magazine was the only reading material in the office. He stopped at a small article about the job sector toward the back. The subtitle read: “Companies not looking to hire jobless.” James cringed as he read that some HR companies were tossing the résumés of those not currently employed.
“Come on in.” The woman stood in the doorway to her office, looking even more harried than she had an hour and ten minutes ago and much more than she’d sounded on the phone. “Things aren’t usually so crazy around here.” She pushed her long dark hair away from her round face. “We have a new client.” She chuckled. “Anyway. So you’re an LPN?”
“RN,” James answered.
“Oh. I thought you said LPN on the phone.”
He shook his head.
“Sorry,” she said, then frowned. “I’ve been getting a lot of things wrong today.” The woman looked about forty years old and had an open, sweet smile even though she was clearly agitated. She invited him into her office and then motioned for him to take a seat at a small table. She sat across from him.
James took the opportunity to slide his résumé across the tabletop.
The woman took it in her hand. “I hate to say this.” She held it up. “But I have a whole stack of these. The economy has brought every RN out of the woodwork.”
James’s heart sank, and he hurried to explain what had happened at the hospital that led to him losing his job, hoping she could read between the lines that he was surprised to find himself looking for a job. “Feel free to call Dr. Hamilton to corroborate my situation or the HR department or Albert Varner himself. They’ll verify what happened and vouch for my experience.”