She hurried back to her phone and called, but, of course, the doctor was busy. She asked to speak to his nurse. Explaining the situation, the other nurse promised to look up what she could find and call her back.
Faith waited by the phone. The last of their patients had been seen. The cleaning of the exam rooms could wait. Ten minutes later when the phone rang, Faith went to the door to the waiting room.
“Yes, she’s here. Hold, please.” Marjorie looked at her. “Call for you.”
Faith went to talk to the nurse. Five minutes later she hung up, not reassured at all. Dr. Stephens had not sent her file—that didn’t mean anything either way. He obviously didn’t think the situation was urgent enough to pass on while he was gone. He’d be back in two weeks. Fourteen endless days to wait to learn her fate.
Could it be something minor, like anemia?
If only Marjorie had given her the message last Friday, she could have had an answer before he left on vacation. Now it looked as if she had to wait another week. It wasn’t fair!
There was also nothing Faith could do about it, except pray for patience. And hope.
On Wednesday Faith decided she couldn’t go to the singles group. She called Janette to tell her not to expect her.
“Are you sick?” Janette asked, concerned.
“Maybe I’m coming down with something. Anyway, I’m staying home tonight.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
Faith hung up, feeling sad about the prospect of moving back to Portland—if the diagnosis proved to be what she suspected. The not knowing was driving her crazy.
Shortly before nine-thirty that night the phone rang. It was Tate.
“You doing okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Janette said she thought you were sick.”
“Maybe catching something,” she said. “How was the meeting?”
“We finalized plans for bringing in the donations. Two guys have trucks we can use and I have the SUV. Some of the folks are coming down with their donations.” He paused. “The Bible study was on Philippians.”
“Sorry I missed it.” Sorry she missed seeing him again. Time seemed so fleeting now. She clutched the phone, wishing she could see him, knowing she could not until she knew for certain what lay ahead. And if it was the worst, then she’d have to end her meetings with Tate entirely. She loved him too much to subject him to what he went through with Mandy.
The knowledge that she loved him hit her like a ton of bricks.
“I have to go,” she said, stunned at the feelings that seeped through her. She loved Tate Johnson! How had that happened? She was going to guard her heart. Hadn’t she learned anything from Allen? Not that she could put Tate in the same league as Allen. But he wasn’t ready for a new relationship. And he deserved so much more than what she could offer.
“I’ll check with you tomorrow,” he said.
She wanted to tell him not to, but couldn’t say the words. He was so kind and caring. If only things had been different.
Faith kept to herself Thursday and Friday. She went home for lunch, spent time with Maggie and the puppies and then returned to work. Friday on the way home, she picked up a Portland paper. She’d start looking for a place there—just in case.
Tate escorted another couple up the aisle of the church and to one of the spaces remaining in the crowded church. His duties as usher kept him busy, as more and more members of the church and community arrived for the celebration of the marriage of Gillian and Joe. He kept an eye out for Faith. When the signal came for the ushers to proceed up the aisle to stand at the groom’s side, he scanned the crowded sanctuary one last time. Where was she? Had he missed her arrival?
He spotted Dr. Mallory so he knew there couldn’t be an emergency at the clinic. It had closed early for the wedding. Where was Faith?
Joe came from the side door at the front and walked to the center, turning to look down the aisle. The wedding march began and Tate knew exactly when Joe saw Gillian by the way his face lit up and his eyes focused on the vision of loveliness coming toward him. Today the happy couple would begin their lives together. He prayed the Lord would bless them for many years to come.
Tate waited for the anguished memory of his own wedding, but instead, a peaceful nostalgia swept through him. Mandy had been lovely, just like Gillian was today. He missed her still, but the overwhelming pain of loss was missing. They’d had so much happiness. He’d cling to those memories and let the rest fade. She was gone. She wasn’t coming back. Goodbye, my love, he said silently.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Tate searched the rows of guests. He didn’t see Faith. Had she not come after all? A moment later, he watched as Gillian became Joe’s wife and reached out to take his hand, her eyes shining with love.
The ceremony didn’t take long. When the newly married couple walked back down the aisle a few minutes later, Tate stepped up and escorted Marcie, who was one of the bridesmaids. He was amused at Zack escorting tiny Maud Stevens, Gillian’s ninety-some-year-old matron of honor.
Once the sanctuary emptied, the wedding party returned for pictures. Tate drew on his patience as he longed to get to the reception hall to see if he’d just missed Faith, or if she truly had not attended.
Pictures over, he followed the bride and groom to the crowded reception. Quickly walking through, he looked for her everywhere. Then he headed outside to call her.
“Hello?” She answered just before it would have gone to voice mail.
“Faith, are you all right?” he asked. So she hadn’t come. Why not?
“Oh, hi, Tate. Umm, I’m doing okay.”
“You didn’t come to the wedding.”
“No. I, uh, just wasn’t up to it.”
“Honey, you can’t let the past dictate the future.”
“What? I just couldn’t come today. Is the ceremony over?”
“The marriage vows were exchanged, now we’re celebrating.”
“Have fun.”
“Want me to save you a piece of wedding cake?” he asked, not wanting to end the call.
“No. I’ve got to go. ’Bye.”
Tate closed the phone and slipped it into his pocket. What was that about? Why the change of heart? Was she sick? She hadn’t felt well earlier in the week. Maybe she was coming down with something. Not surprising. He often wondered why doctors and nurses weren’t constantly ill, with all the sickness they were exposed to.
Returning to the reception, Tate went through the motions of enjoying himself. He would do nothing to dampen the festive mood for Joe and Gillian. But he couldn’t completely enjoy himself because Faith hadn’t come.
When the cake had been cut and the bridal couple seen off in a rain of birdseed, Tate considered his duties done. He took the plate of wedding cake he’d gotten for Faith and headed to her apartment. Climbing the stairs a few minutes later, he heard Maggie barking. A good watchdog, he thought. Not that there was a lot of crime in Rocky Point. But a single woman living alone couldn’t be too careful.
He knocked on the door. A moment later Faith opened it. Tate was startled to see she’d been crying. The wedding had been too much of a reminder of love gone bad. His heart ached for her.
“I brought you some cake,” he said, holding it out. “It’s good luck to have wedding cake.”
She stared at the plate, her eyes welling with tears. Slowly she reached out to take it. “Thank you,” she said.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
She didn’t look okay. How far dare he push? “I could come in for a while, tell you about the wedding.”
Shaking her head, she glanced at him, then looked back at the piece of cake. “Not today. I have to go.”
She close
d the door in his face.
Tate drew in a breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought the cake. If weddings reminded her of the man who had deserted her at the first sign of trouble, she’d be sad. Maybe it had hit her harder than she expected. But truly, she was better off without the guy. She needed someone she could depend on. Someone who wouldn’t bail when things started going awry.
Turning he walked down the stairs.
Someone like him?
He looked up at her apartment, wishing he had more of a right to barge in and demand to know what was wrong.
He opened the car door. Friends, he’d insisted.
Which meant he had to stifle his true impulses and find the strength to walk away.
Chapter Eight
Faith spent Saturday with Maggie and the puppies. It was a bittersweet time. She loved these dogs and laughed at the antics of the puppies who were growing more and more adventuresome each day. She sat beside Maggie on the floor and watched them indulgently. She imagined Maggie felt the same way. Cute as could be, but a bit wild.
She nibbled on the cake Tate had brought, praying for happiness and a long marriage for Joe and Gillian. She hardly gave Allen a thought. Help me, Father, not be envious of what others have. I know You have a plan for me. If this is it, help me accept it with grace.
Taking Maggie for a long walk just before dark helped her sleep that night. But in the morning she awoke to the feeling of impending doom. She debated attending church, but just couldn’t face anyone. Instead, she took her Bible and let it fall open. Reading Paul’s statement about the thorn in his side, she wondered if cancer was hers. She had thought Marjorie was. Paul wrote about persevering through hardships and prison. Could she do less? She would fight this invasive enemy with everything she had.
She’d cling to the hope the Lord had given her two years ago. Nothing diminished His love. And if life on earth was to end soon, she knew where she was heading. Peace was hard-won, but sustaining. She hugged the Bible to her heart as she prayed for peace, for contentment and for fortitude to face whatever the future held.
Janette called her after church.
“Hey, we missed you today. You must be under the weather.”
“I’m doing okay.” Sooner or later she’d have to tell her new friends. But she wanted to hold off until she’d talked to her physician. Once again, she hoped anomalies meant anemia or something else relatively benign. But for the oncologist to leave that message, it had to be serious. “Just not up to attending church.”
“Pastor John gave an awesome talk about commitment and stepping out in faith. He does such good sermons, always referring to Bible verses I can look up and remember.”
Stepping out in faith sounded like what she needed to cling to. “I’m sorry I missed it.” Faith looked at Maggie, who was gazing at her with adoration. She liked her new church. If she licked the cancer again, she’d see about coming back to Rocky Point. But that was in the future. She had to get through the next few months first.
“Janette, do you know of anyone who might like a well-behaved dog?”
“You still trying to get rid of those puppies? I thought they were all spoken for.”
“They are. And they should be ready to leave in a couple more weeks. I was thinking of Maggie. She’s only two—a wonderful dog.” Her voice broke on the end. Blinking back tears, Faith drew a deep breath, trying to smile at her dog.
“I thought you were going to keep her,” Janette said.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to for the long haul. Nothing definite, but if you hear of anyone, let me know, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll ask around. If you want to take a trip or something, I’m sure someone in the singles group would watch her while you’re gone.”
“Thanks.” That was an idea. Maybe she could prevail on someone and, if she made it, come back to claim Maggie. It was a better thought than giving her up altogether.
“And speaking of the group, it’s two weeks to the rummage sale. We’ll be finalizing plans this Wednesday. Sign up early for your shift—that way you get the best pick. Last year I dithered and ended up with closing on the second day. It gets frantic because we slash prices and everyone comes back to see what bargains they can get before closing time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Faith said, wondering where she’d even be when the rummage sale was held.
“Want to get together for lunch one day?” Janette asked.
“I’ll see how things go and call you,” Faith said, not willing to make plans.
Half an hour after their phone call ended, there was a knock on the door. When Faith answered, Tate stood there. Dressed casually, his dark hair was mussed, as if he’d run his fingers through it. The slight scar from his encounter with the boat a few weeks ago showed red. The grim look on his face spoke volumes.
“So I just got a call from Janette that something’s wrong and we both want to know what it is,” he said, stepping forward. “I’m here to find out.”
Faith gave way and he entered the apartment.
He glanced around, noting the paper on the table, the puppies clamoring to greet him. He looked at her.
“I just wasn’t up to going to church,” she said. Sweeping her hand around, she encompassed the apartment. “Everything’s fine here, as you can see.”
“You didn’t come to the wedding. To the singles group last week, to church this morning. Something’s definitely wrong. Jenny was disappointed not to see you. She wanted to come see her puppy again.” He sighed heavily. “And Zack and Marcie said Gillian noticed you hadn’t attended yesterday. Janette said you’re looking for a home for Maggie. Now that’s definitely something. I thought you loved that dog.”
Faith licked her lips and stared at him, uncertain how to respond. “I, umm, might have to move back to Portland. I won’t be able to afford a place that has a yard and Maggie’s happy here. If I do have to go, then I want to find her a good home, with someone who will love her.”
“You love her. You keep her.”
She looked away. “I will if I can. But if I can’t, she needs a really good home.”
Tate reached out his hand and took her chin, gently turning her to face him. “So what’s up?” His fingers felt warm against her skin.
Faith wanted to reach out and let him enfold her in his arms, lend her some of his strength. She wanted to belong, to have someone there for her, so she didn’t feel so alone. But looking into his dear face, she knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t pull him into the misery that might come. He’d been through so much with his wife. She’d never subject him to that again—not even as friends.
She shrugged, trying to maintain a casual air. “This and that. Who knows what the future will bring? I’m making contingency plans.” She could hardly breathe with him so close, with the concern reflected in his dark eyes. His fingers hadn’t moved. She never wanted to move, but she had to.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” he said, his gaze steadfast, his fingers warm against her skin.
“Oh, Tate, you really don’t want to know. Please, let’s just say we’re friends and as a friend, you’ll leave me to find my own way.” She reached up to hold his wrist, feeling the strength in his arm, hoping she had enough strength for the future. His pulse beat strong against her fingertips. She wished she could cling forever.
“I can’t do that. Tell me. It must be serious.” He frowned in thought for a moment, then narrowed his gaze.
“Allen’s trying to get back together with you,” he guessed.
Faith smiled sadly at that thought. “He would never do that,” she said. And even if he did, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice. “You’re a good man, Tate. Thank you for your friendship.”
How I wish it could have bee
n undying love.
“You sound as if you’re leaving,” he said.
“I might be returning to Portland. Things are still up in the air right now.”
“Why move to Portland? I thought you liked Rocky Point?”
“I do. It’s just, maybe I don’t know for sure.” But she felt it was a sure thing. Every moment in his company was a memory she could take with her. She didn’t want to leave. Yet she couldn’t stay if the cancer had returned.
“What do you know for sure?” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he dropped his hand, breaking the connection she’d felt.
“That you need to go. I’m fine,” she said raising her chin slightly. She felt even more alone when he stepped away.
“That’s it. Go? Ignore what’s bothering you? That’s not going to happen, Faith. I said I wanted to know what’s going on and I’m staying right here until you tell me.” He sat down on the sofa. “Might as well tell me now as later,” he said, leaning back, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
If he wasn’t going to go until he knew, then she might as well tell him. How best to word it? How to let him know she expected nothing from him? He shouldn’t be concerned. She would manage as she had before.
She stared at him, not knowing how to tell him. “I might have had a relapse,” she blurted finally.
“A relapse to what?”
“Cancer.”
He stared at her, the shock clearly evident. “I thought you said you were cancer-free.”
“I thought I was. I had the surgery, chemo. I did everything I was supposed to. I prayed for healing. I found the Lord and thought that would be the beginning of a wonderful new life.” She exhaled slowly. “I’ve enjoyed most of the past two years. But at my semiannual checkup there were anomalies.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, averting her eyes. “I didn’t get my physician’s message when it first came in. By the time I found it, I was told the office is closed until next week because the doctor’s on vacation.” She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the sofa. Her legs wouldn’t hold her anymore. “Now I won’t find out if the cancer’s returned until he gets back.”
Rocky Point Promise Page 16