Halfway to Forever

by Karen Kingsbury

  “How’s Brandy Almond?”

  The eyes of several of the nurses lit up. “She’s doing better,” one of them said. “There’s something different about her. Go see for yourself.”

  Jade grinned and hurried toward the girl’s room, knocking on her door before opening it and stepping inside.

  “You came!” Brandy was sitting up in bed, her cheeks full and more colorful than they’d been. “They told me you were going to have a baby!”

  Jade hesitated for a moment. Was that all they’d told the young girl? That she was having a baby? Nothing about the brain cancer? Jade swallowed and considered her choice of words. “Yes. That’s right.” She placed her hand over her abdomen. “An active baby, by the way my insides feel.”

  Brandy’s eyes danced. “You’ll name her after me if it’s a girl, right?”

  “Absolutely.” Jade laughed and sat on the edge of Brandy’s bed. “Enough about me. Look at you, Brandy. You’re glowing. Like you’re ready to run a race or something.”

  The girl beamed. “I’m getting better. Just like you prayed.”

  “What?” Jade raised her eyebrows. “Brandy Almond? Talking about prayer?”

  Was she …? Did the girl believe now? Was that the difference?

  Tears filled Brandy’s eyes. “After our talk I decided to give it a try. I told God I’d believe He was real if He’d send me a sign of some kind. Some way so I’d know it was right to trust Him.”

  “And …” Jade marveled at the light in Brandy’s eyes. It was a light that couldn’t be manufactured. Jade could hardly wait to hear what had happened to convince Brandy of the truth.

  “The next day one of my teammates came in with a Bible.” Brandy smiled. “Can you believe that? Just out of the blue for no reason.”

  Brandy’s energy never waned as she shared the story of what happened. The girl approached Brandy and told her she’d been praying for her every day since she’d gotten sick. But that afternoon, the teammate felt sure God wanted her to bring Brandy a Bible and share the truth of Jesus with her.

  “ ‘It doesn’t matter so much whether you run again or even if you get better,’ she told me. ‘But if you miss out on knowing Jesus … that’ll be a real tragedy.’ ”

  Brandy took the girl’s visit as the sign she’d prayed for. “She told me about Jesus and placing my faith in Him. She said if I trusted Him, I’d go to heaven one day.”

  “And you agreed?” Jade squirmed in her seat, her heart bursting with joy. She took Brandy’s hands in her own and squeezed them.

  “Yes! I’d be crazy not to. All of a sudden it was like I got it. This Jesus you always talked about, the one my teammate loved, He was not only real, but He loved me. I didn’t want to wait another minute to accept that love and start loving Him back.”

  “Oh, Brandy, that’s wonderful.” Jade leaned over and hugged the girl close. “You’ll never be sorry. And your health …” Jade stood and checked the chart near Brandy’s door. “You look so much better.”

  A laugh bubbled up from Brandy’s throat, and she clasped her hands. “Doctor says if my counts stay good for another week I can go home. I’m in remission, Jade. They thought I was done for, and now I’m in remission. Isn’t that, like … so God?”

  Jade fired a grin at Brandy. “Yes, it’s definitely, like, so God!”

  The file told the story. Jade read it and shook her head. The girl was right; her blood counts had been excellent for the past three weeks. She returned to Brandy’s side, hoping she would never find out about the brain cancer.

  The expression on Brandy’s face changed. “Now tell me why you took off work so early. Don’t most people wait until the baby’s about to come?”

  Jade’s pulse quickened. Give me the words, God … please. “Yes.” She searched her mind for something to say. “But, uh, my morning sickness was worse than most.” She lifted one shoulder. “I was too tired to work.”

  The answer pacified Brandy, and the two of them talked for another thirty minutes before Jade told the girl good-bye. “I have an ultrasound downstairs.” She grinned at Brandy. “In an hour I should know if we’re having a girl or a boy.”

  Brandy waved a finger at Jade, her face masked in mock seriousness. “Don’t forget, now. If it’s a girl, you name her after me.” Her eyes sparkled. “Hey, and you can bring her to one of my track meets next year!”

  “We wouldn’t miss it.” Jade laughed. “Get some rest, Brandy. And if they spring you next week, don’t forget to stop by and visit.”

  Brandy grew quiet and she reached her hand toward Jade once more. “No matter what happens, Jade, I’ll never forget you.”

  Sudden tears burned at Jade’s eyes and she took the girl’s fingers in her own. “I won’t forget you, either.”

  “You saved my life; you know that, right? I was ready to give up, and you told me to pray. Otherwise …”

  “Otherwise someone else would have told you.” Jade brushed away a tear, leaned over, and kissed the girl on the cheek.

  But Brandy shook her head. “No, otherwise I might already be gone.”

  There was a lump in Jade’s throat, and she couldn’t speak. Instead she shrugged and pointed heavenward.

  “Have that little baby and hurry back, okay, Jade?” Brandy’s voice broke and her eyes grew wet. “The kids here need you.”

  The conversation with Brandy played again and again in Jade’s head as she made her way downstairs toward the ultrasound room. Thank You, God … thank You for healing her. Thank You for sending her teammate that day … thank You.

  Only one part of what the girl had said didn’t sit well with Jade.

  The part about hurrying back. It wasn’t that Jade didn’t want to return to her hospital work. Rather, she had stopped making plans that far in the future. As though to do so might be presuming on God’s blessing.

  She checked in and was ushered to a changing room where she slipped into the blue and white medical gown. Let me get through the pregnancy, God. Please. My return to work can come later.

  While Jade waited, she wondered again if the baby within her was a boy or a girl. All her life she had wanted a daughter, a girl of her own to mother the way she herself had never been mothered. Deep in her heart, Jade was sure a daughter would be God’s way of smiling through the fog of uncertainty caused by Jade’s cancer. It would be His way of telling her everything was going to be okay, that He had heard the desires of her heart and now was granting her those desires, even amidst the fear of the unknown.

  Of course, a boy would be wonderful as well, a smaller version of Ty, another son to follow in Tanner’s footsteps.

  The minutes crawled by, and finally half an hour later the technician was ready for her. The young woman wasn’t someone Jade knew, but she was kind and gentle and not overly effusive. Though the technician didn’t say anything about the cancer, Jade had a feeling she knew.

  While the woman positioned the ultrasound wand over her stomach, Jade remembered how terrifying it had been the first time she was pregnant. She hadn’t sought medical care until she was several months along so Jim wouldn’t be suspicious.

  I never should have married him, Lord. I’m so sorry. If I had it to do over again, I’d wait and talk to Tanner first. I wouldn’t have trusted Doris Eastman’s story until I had a chance to—

  “There’s a pretty clear picture.” The technician smiled and froze the image.

  Jade stared at it, but being a nurse didn’t help her much. She wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Reading ultrasounds required special training. She grinned at the woman and shrugged her shoulders. “What are we looking at?”

  “Well, I’d say she’s about as perfect as a baby can be. She looks completely healthy.”

  “She?” Tears nipped at the corners of Jade’s eyes. Was it possible? Had God allowed her another chance to mother a little girl?

  “I’m sorry.” The technician looked surprised. “I thought you knew.” She looked back at the screen and pointed
to the baby. “There’s no doubt about it. You’re having a girl, Mrs. Eastman.”

  Jade blinked back the tears and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment’s privacy. God was going to let her survive after all. Otherwise He wouldn’t have blessed her with a little girl; He wouldn’t have let the baby live this long, past the point when Jade had miscarried the last time. Happiness shot through her veins, infusing hope to every part of her being. Yes, she was going to survive.

  She could hardly wait to tell Tanner.

  An hour later she was home, fixing pasta on the stove, when an unspeakable pain shot through her head, dimming her senses and shading her eyes in a cloak of sudden black. She sank to the floor and fought for the strength to shout for help.

  “Tanner!” Her voice was weak and fading. “H-elp …”

  He should be home any minute, but that wouldn’t help her now. Her heartbeats came in short bursts without any sense of pattern, and the pain intensified as she collapsed. The cold tile floor smacked against her arms and face, and she lay there, unable to move.

  Terror gripped her heart, her mind. If Tanner didn’t get there soon, these might be her last moments alive. Their daughter’s last moments. God, I’m not ready to die! I haven’t said good-bye to Tanner or Ty or …

  The pain doubled its intensity and Jade moaned. “Tanner!”

  The thought that she might not live through the seizure was sadder than anything Jade could imagine. Not because she had fears about where she’d spend eternity, but because she’d miss out on telling Tanner what was supposed to be the happiest news they’d had in a month.

  That the precious child inside her was a little girl.

  Even if Tanner arrived in time, the seizure meant everything had changed. She tried to call out again, but it was no use. Her breathing was infrequent and shallow and there was nothing she could do to help herself. Her body was rebelling against an invasion deep in her brain. An invasion that could only mean one thing.

  The tumor was growing.

  Tanner heard Jade’s soft cries the moment he opened the door.

  “Jade?” He sprinted for the kitchen. Steam filtered up from the stove where a pot of boiling water spilled onto a flame-red burner. “Jade, where are—”

  Something on the floor caught his attention and he stared at her. “Dear God, no … not again.”

  He raced to her, turning off the stove and reaching for the phone as he fell to his knees beside her. Fear made breathing next to impossible. “Jade, baby, wake up!”

  Her eyes were wide open, unblinking, and her arms and fingers were frozen stiff. She was still shaking, her limbs jumping off the floor, and he could do nothing to help her stop. It took less than fifteen seconds to call the ambulance; then he remembered Dr. Layton’s advice from last time she had a seizure.

  Lay her flat … check her pulse, her inhalations. Don’t administer CPR unless she’s stopped breathing on her own …

  Tanner forced himself to concentrate and follow the doctor’s orders. Her heart was still beating, but it was weak and irregular. He lowered his face to hers. “Come on, Jade; fight, baby. Don’t leave me.” His eyes fell on her upper chest. She was breathing, but only the faintest bit of air passed over her lips. Tanner gripped her shoulders and clung to her. “Stay with me, Jade. Don’t leave …”

  The seconds slowed to a crawl, and Tanner begged God to help them. His eyes remained locked on Jade, looking for the moment when he might need to start CPR. “Keep breathing, Jade … please keep breathing.”

  Tanner wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the paramedics. He scrambled out of the way, his body weak from terror. What if it was too late? What if they couldn’t help her? Why was any of it happening to them?

  As usual, there were no answers.

  The paramedics moved fast and spoke quietly. Before Tanner could glean anything from their conversation, they whisked Jade into an ambulance and off to the hospital.

  Again Tanner followed behind, his mind numbed by the nightmare unfolding before them. What’s happening, God? Why this? Why her?

  A Scripture from a sermon they’d heard the week before flashed in Tanner’s mind. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

  Tanner steadied his hands and kept his attention on the ambulance in front of him. Is this the trouble you have for us, Lord? That Jade suffer like this?

  It was more than Tanner could bear. He forced himself to believe it was all a mistake, that the seizure was merely an adverse reaction to Jade’s medication or maybe somehow related to her pregnancy and not the cancer at all. He was at her side the moment he saw her inside the emergency room. Though she was conscious, she was too exhausted to speak.

  “Hang in there, honey. I’m here.”

  Dr. Layton met them at the hospital and pumped a megadose of anti-seizure medication into Jade’s veins. More tests were performed, and Tanner could do nothing but stay by her side, hold her hand, and pray it was all a bad dream. That somehow they’d wake up and Jade would be the same cheerful person she had been that morning. Back when brain cancer seemed little more than a diversion in what was otherwise a perfectly normal pregnancy.

  Two hours later, the prognosis was painfully clear. The tumor had grown, and Dr. Layton ordered an immediate increase in Jade’s anti-seizure medication.

  “At this point, Jade’s in a race against her biological clock.” The doctor stood close to Tanner, his hand resting on Jade’s bed. “And there’s something else. The tumor isn’t growing neatly like we’d hoped. It’s starting to grow tentacles. The more that happens, the less likely we’ll be able to operate when the baby’s born. I thought you should know.”

  The information settled like a dense cloud of poisonous smoke over Tanner’s consciousness as he struggled to make sense of the doctor’s words. The tumor had tentacles? Seizure medication—though replete with side effects—could prevent further attacks. But if the tumor continued to grow, it could cause a stroke or sudden death. The baby was still eleven weeks away from the set delivery date.

  “If things get bad enough, we’ll have to take the baby and hope for the best.” Dr. Layton bit his lip. Jade’s eyes were closed, and Tanner doubted that she either heard or understood any of the information the doctor had just shared.

  Tanner nodded. “What’s the soonest the baby could live?”

  “We’ve saved them as early as twenty-five, twenty-six weeks. Jade’s just about twenty-one weeks along now.” The man hesitated. “Jade’s wishes are clear about keeping the baby. We’ll only deliver that early if we have no other choice.”

  There was no way Tanner could think that far in the future. He smoothed the hair off Jade’s forehead and thanked the doctor. “I think we need to be alone, if that’s all right with you.”

  Dr. Layton’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. “I’m sorry.” He raised the file he had in his hand. “The nurses will explain the increase in medication. I’m afraid …” Tanner understood the pause. The doctor knew all too well that there was only so much bad news a person could handle. Finally he went on. “I’m afraid the extra medication is bound to cause the more serious side effects we discussed earlier.”

  Tanner clenched his teeth and waited for the doctor to leave. He wanted to scream at him that none of the news they’d received that day was right or fair or even remotely possible. Jade’s tumor was growing tentacles? Sudden death was a possibility? None of it seemed real, and suddenly Tanner couldn’t sit by his sick wife another moment.

  He stood in a burst of motion and strode to the window, staring outside as a rush of tears blurred his vision. Memories from days gone by danced on the screen of his mind. He and Jade finding each other again that summer in Kelso, walking along the Cowlitz River and holding hands in the park while they caught up on the first decade lost.

  Jade … I need you. Don’t leave me again.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and another image ap
peared.

  It was Jade two years ago, the afternoon they found each other again. She was crying and telling him that yes, Ty was his son. Her words echoed in his heart. “I love you, Tanner … I never stopped loving you …”

  He could hear her voice, feel the touch of her fingers against his face as they realized the devastation caused by his mother’s web of lies.

  Dozens of memories flashed before Tanner’s eyes, a tapestry of happy moments they’d shared in the two years since they’d been back together. He gripped the windowsill as despair worked its way through his veins. He didn’t have one single happy memory without Jade. He stared out the window at the sunset over Thousand Oaks, silent tears sliding down the sides of his face.

  God, what am I going to do if she dies? Please … don’t take her. Please, God.

  “Tanner?”

  Her weak voice made him spin around. He wiped his hands across his cheeks, determined she wouldn’t see him cry. “I’m here, baby.” He was at her side again in three quick steps. “How’re you feeling?”

  The corners of her mouth struggled into a smile. “Did … did the doctor tell you the news?”

  Tanner’s heart pounded within him. How do I tell her the truth, God … give me the words. “Yes. He told me.”

  Jade’s eyes sparkled despite her exhaustion. “You don’t look excited.”

  What? Was the medication messing with her already? He tried to keep his voice even. “Excited?”

  “Tanner, it’s the best news we’ve had in a month.” She held out her hand and he took it, weaving his fingers between hers.

  “Jade … I don’t understand …” He bit his lip and shook his head. “What news?”

  Her half-closed eyelids opened wider than before. “Then you don’t know.” A slow chuckle came from her throat. “Fine. Let me be the first to tell you.” She brought their hands to her lips and kissed his fingers. “Congratulations, Mr. Eastman. You’re going to have a daughter.”

  Thirteen