To Find Her Place

by Susan Anne Mason

  Mom laid a hand on his arm. “Jane has been here with us all night. She’s in the waiting room. Can I send her in?”

  His heart threatened to shatter and become as useless as his legs.

  “No,” he said curtly. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

  “But, Garrett, she—”

  “I said no.”

  A strained silence settled over the room. Garrett wished he could take back his rudeness, but he couldn’t even bring himself to say he was sorry.

  “Come on, Sarah.” Dad’s voice was gruff. “Let the boy rest. This is a lot to take in.”

  “All right. But just so you know, Martin is fine.”

  Garrett swallowed hard and nodded. “That’s good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very tired.”

  He looked away from the hurt in his mother’s eyes.

  “We’ll come by again later.” She patted his arm. “And we’ll be praying for you, dear.”

  Praying for him. The words ran through his mind, pounding harder and harder inside his brain. He laid there, not moving a muscle until he was sure his parents were gone, then he snatched the glass from his nightstand and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into tiny pieces.

  A nurse appeared several seconds later. He ground his molars together, not looking at her, his lungs heaving with the force of his labored breathing.

  “I’ll send someone to clean this up,” she said and disappeared into the corridor.

  Garrett gripped the metal rails of his bed until his fingers ached. Then he squeezed his eyes shut. Silent, useless tears spilled from under his lids, leaking onto the pillow until it was a soggy mess.

  His mother could pray all she wanted. But he knew the truth.

  It was far too late for that now.

  40

  In the early morning hours, Jane walked through the hushed hallways of the hospital, trying her best to tamp down her anxiety. She’d spent the entire night in the waiting room with the Wilders, alternating between praying and dozing off on the hard plastic chairs. They’d received word when Garrett was out of surgery and again when he was back in his room but were told that he would remain unconscious for some time. Visitors would not be allowed until he woke up.

  When the nurse arrived a few minutes ago with the welcome news that Garrett was awake and that the surgeon wished to speak to the Wilders, Jane’s emotions had become almost too raw too handle. Sarah and Ben left, promising to return with an update. Rather than wait alone in the empty room, Jane took the opportunity to go in search of a phone booth to call Donald.

  Though it was still quite early, she presumed Donald would be up tending to Patrick already. As hard as this call would be, she needed to let him know that she wouldn’t be coming back to babysit.

  Not today. Not ever again.

  Last night, it had become clear to her as she awaited word on Garrett’s condition that her future lay in a different direction. She’d finally forgiven Donald, that much was true. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t picture herself married to him again. Not when her heart was so firmly engaged elsewhere.

  Perhaps she was taking the cowardly way out telling him the news over the telephone, but she couldn’t afford the time to soften the blow in person.

  As she walked, Jane tried to blink the grit from her eyes while attempting to ignore that every muscle in her body ached. Two nights in a row without a proper sleep was taking its toll. Finally, in a corner near the cafeteria, she found a phone booth. She slid inside and dialed the operator, who put her through to Donald’s number.

  “Jane,” he said when he heard her voice. “Is everything all right? How is Martin?”

  “He’s fine, thank goodness.” She paused. “But Garrett wasn’t so lucky. I’m at the hospital now, waiting to hear the results of his surgery.”

  “The hospital? But what about Patrick?”

  She took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, there’s no easy way to say this. I’m afraid I can’t continue as Patrick’s caregiver.” She bit her lip, awaiting the tongue-lashing she deserved. Technically, she hadn’t gone back on her word. They’d agreed to a two-week trial period, which had just ended. She was within her rights to change her mind. Yet a bubble of guilt still pressed against her chest.

  Instead of Donald’s anger, complete silence met her ears.

  “I-I don’t understand,” he finally said. “I thought things were going so well between us.” He sounded more hurt than angry.

  She swallowed. “I’m so sorry, Donald. I thought I could do it, I really did. But I’ve changed too much to go back to a life that doesn’t fit anymore.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” The dejection in his voice filled her with another rush of guilt.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “If you call the employment agency right away, they’ll probably get you someone for Patrick by tomorrow.”

  “I thought you wanted a baby more than anything.” He sounded dazed.

  “I thought so too.” She paused, but there was nothing else that could really explain her actions, except that she was in love with someone else. “I wish you and Patrick all the best.”

  When the call ended, she replaced the receiver with slightly shaky fingers and sat for a minute to allow her system to recover from the roil of conflicting emotions within her.

  And prayed she wasn’t making yet another terrible mistake.

  Jane headed back to the waiting room, hoping the surgeon had given Ben and Sarah good news about the operation and that she’d be able to see Garrett at last.

  Sarah met her in the corridor, her lips trembling in a somewhat nervous smile. Not the one of unbridled joy Jane had hoped for.

  “How did it go?”

  An orderly moved down the hall, pushing a mop and bucket. Sarah moved out of the way, closer to the wall. Something about the way she was hesitating sent a chill of trepidation down Jane’s back.

  Sarah wrapped her arms around her middle. “The doctor said it went well, but they won’t know the extent of the nerve damage until the spine fully heals.”

  Jane swallowed. “So, they don’t know if he’ll walk again?”

  “They’re hopeful. That’s all they’ll say.”

  Jane inhaled, reaching deep for her optimism. “Well, Garrett’s strong. He’ll do everything the doctor says, and he won’t give up. I know he’ll be all right.” She managed a small smile. “Can I see him now?”

  Sarah’s features crumpled. “I’m so sorry, Jane. I don’t know how to tell you this, but Garrett doesn’t want to see anyone.” She shook her head. “It’s not personal. It’s just . . . he’s taking this all very hard. The doctor mentioned a wheelchair, and he shut down. He needs some time to adjust, that’s all.”

  Jane pressed a hand to her mouth and leaned against the wall. Poor Garrett. His whole future must seem to be hanging in the balance right now. But he needed to know that she would stand by him no matter what.

  She straightened and turned to face his mother. “I have to talk to him, Sarah. He needs to know that his life isn’t over and that I’m here for him.”

  Indecision played over the woman’s features.

  “Please, Sarah. If he tells me he doesn’t want me there, I’ll leave. I just . . .” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I have to at least see him for myself.”

  Sarah gave a huge sigh. “Far be it from me to stop you. Who knows? Maybe you can get through to him better than we could.”

  “Thank you.” Jane wiped her eyes, relief flooding her muscles.

  “He’s in room 522. But please try not to upset him.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Jane’s legs shook as she walked along the corridor, searching the room numbers. Would Garrett be furious with her for ignoring his wishes, or would he be relieved to see her? Either way, she’d have to respect his decision.

  She paused outside his room to pray. Lord, please use me as an instrument of your peace. Let me bring Garrett comfort and assurance and help
me prove my love for him. Amen.

  Inside the door, Jane scanned the area. The bed on the right side of the double room was empty. A white curtain was pulled around the other bed, where Garrett must be. She steeled herself for his reaction as she quietly pushed the curtain aside.

  He lay on his side facing the wall, his eyes closed. Tubes ran into his nose and arm, attached to machines that hummed. Her heart ached to see him lying there so helpless. He’d risked everything to save Martin, sacrificing his very health.

  She came closer, loath to disturb him, but needing him to know she was there. She thought of the occasions he’d sustained her through trying times. Now she needed to be there to support him in the same way.

  Jane brought a chair closer to the bed and sat down, her determination returning. She’d wait as long as it took to say her piece. Then at least he’d know where she stood. It may take him a while to accept whatever direction his life would take from here, but he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

  She sat there for several long minutes, until at last he opened his eyes. Her pulse jumped as his blue gaze met hers, but far from the welcome she’d hoped for, his features remained blank. Likely he hadn’t been asleep at all but pretending so she’d leave.

  Remember what he’s facing, Jane. Of course, he’s not himself.

  “I know you don’t want visitors,” she said, “but I have a few things I need to say.” She smoothed a hand over her blue flowered dress, trying not to be unnerved by his stony silence.

  “First, I want to say how proud I am of you. And how sorry I am that you got hurt.”

  A flash of pain crossed his features, but still he said nothing.

  “I understand your prognosis is uncertain, and it’ll take time to know the outcome. But I’m confident you will walk again. You’re persistent and determined, and I know you’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

  His jaw muscles twitched as his scowl grew deeper. What could he be thinking?

  She leaned closer to make sure he heard her next words. “Even if the worst happens and you end up in a wheelchair, it doesn’t mean you can’t have a meaningful life. If Franklin Roosevelt can become the president of the United States in a chair, then you can certainly be an effective director of the Children’s Aid and still make a difference in the lives of those children.”

  She reached for his hand, and when he went to pull away, she tightened her fingers around his. “I also want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll be here, waiting for you. And together we’ll face whatever future God has in store for us.”

  When he started to shake his head, she rushed on, needing to finish what she started so he’d truly understand her position.

  “Ever since my miscarriages, when my marriage fell apart, I’ve been struggling to find my place in this world. But now I know where I belong.” She blinked, fighting the burn of tears. She needed to lay her heart on the line, no matter the consequences, so there was nothing left unsaid. Her breath hitched, her throat constricting on a surge of emotion. “My place is here with you, Garrett. Because I love you so very much.” She kept her gaze fused to his, willing him to accept her offering.

  “Jane.” His voice was as tormented as the expression on his face. “I can’t . . . I won’t saddle you with a husband trapped in a chair.”

  “You’ll only be trapped if you view it that way.”

  Garrett gave her another fierce scowl, but she ignored it, refusing to be put off.

  “No one knows what challenges life will bring. All we can do is trust God to be with us through the hard times and help us find joy no matter what our circumstances.” She placed her palm against the rough stubble on his cheek. “And you will find joy again, Garrett. This is only a setback. One I know you can overcome.” She resisted the strong urge to kiss him. Now was not the time.

  His features softened just a little. Yet she sensed his underlying reluctance. He needed time to process everything. Time to rest. And she had overstayed her welcome.

  “I should go.” She rose and took a last look at him, his tousled hair, his weary eyes, and her chest filled with warmth. “If you need anything, I’m only a phone call away.”

  “Wait.” He frowned. “Have you seen Martin? Is he okay?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “He’s going to be fine. They kept him overnight at the hospital just to make sure.”

  The lines etched in his forehead relaxed. “I’m glad. But what about the Blackwoods? Are they going to take him back?”

  Jane bit her lip. She didn’t think he needed to hear all this now. But if it were her, she’d want to know. “I saw Mrs. Blackwood in the hospital briefly. I got the impression she wants to return Martin again. I told her I didn’t work there anymore and to contact the agency.”

  He shook his head, his eyes clouding over. “You were right about them. I was too stubborn to listen.” He sighed. “What are we going to do now? Send him back to the shelter?”

  “Actually, I had another idea.” Nervously, she moved closer to the bed. “I’m going to apply for temporary guardianship of Martin myself, with the intent to adopt him.” She gripped her purse tighter. “I was hoping that as interim director, you’d support me in this and approve the necessary paperwork.” She held her breath. His answer could make or break her dearest wish for Martin.

  A host of emotions flicked over his features. “I would, but I don’t know when or if I’ll be able to resume my position. The board might want to assign someone else in my place.”

  A flood of disappointment raced through her, but she nodded. “I understand.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “Speaking of the board, has anyone informed them of your accident?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Would you like someone to call them? Or would you prefer to do it yourself?” She looked around the room. “I can have them find a way to bring a telephone to you.”

  His lips twitched at the corner before he let out a sigh. “Perhaps you could call Mr. Fenmore. Inform him of my surgery and request that he come by the hospital so we might iron out some of the details for my recovery.”

  A band of tension loosened around her shoulders. “I’d be happy to. Is there anything else you need?”

  He studied her for a moment, the last traces of irritation fading from his features. “No.” He reached out to brush his fingers over her hand. “I can’t make any promises right now but knowing you’re on my side will make all the difference.”

  Her heart started to pump faster. Clearly, he wasn’t ready to commit to anything until he had a better idea of what was in store for him. Which was fine. She’d said she’d wait, and she meant it.

  She bent over the metal rail to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to let you get some rest.”

  He gave her a warm look. “Thank you, Jane. You’ve given me the first real spark of hope since I woke up.”

  Her lips curved, gratitude spreading through her. “A spark is a good place to start. That and a great deal of prayer.”

  41

  Lying in his hospital bed the next day, Garrett had entirely too much time to think. Time to imagine living his life confined to a wheelchair. It would be a huge adjustment to make, physically as well as emotionally. Yet Jane’s words had given him the first glimmer of optimism for the future.

  But what did that mean for the two of them? “My place is here with you.” Jane seemed determined to stay by his side, but could Garrett allow her to sacrifice her life that way? He pondered the idea of how he would feel if their roles were reversed. If Jane had an accident and ended up in a wheelchair, would he love her any less?

  No. He would still want her in his life.

  Then how could he deny her the same choice?

  And yet, a thousand worries plagued him. What if he grew weaker, not stronger? What if he couldn’t even lift himself into the chair without her help?

  He let out a soft sigh. Maybe he couldn’t figure out his relationship with Jane right now, but at least she’d g
iven him hope he could still have a meaningful career.

  “Hello, Garrett.” His father walked around the curtain. “How are you feeling, son?”

  “Hi, Dad. I’m doing better.”

  “Good to hear.” Dad pulled up a chair and sat down. “I sent your mother out for some fresh air. It will give us a chance to talk man-to-man.”

  Garrett’s stomach swooped. That didn’t bode well.

  “How are you really doing, son?”

  “Going a little crazy, if you must know. It’s the uncertainty that’s killing me, not knowing if I’ll be able to walk again.”

  Dad nodded thoughtfully. “A difficult prospect to face.”

  “It is. But something Jane said gave me hope. She reminded me that President Roosevelt runs the United States from a wheelchair. I suppose if he can meet the demands of such a powerful position, I can make a worthwhile life for myself too.”

  “I agree.” Dad pinned him with a stare. “But I know you, son. You’ll use every last bit of strength to get back on your feet.”

  “I intend to give it my best shot.”

  “Just know that your mother and I are here to support you however we can.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Garrett swallowed hard. He’d hoped to be the answer to his parents’ financial difficulties. Not add to them.

  “Take this time to examine what’s truly important, son. What you want out of life. And to ask God what He wants from you.”

  Garrett nodded. “I will, Dad. Thanks.”

  Footsteps sounded entering the room. “Excuse me, Mr. Wilder. Is this a bad time?”

  Garrett looked up. “Mr. Fenmore. No, it’s fine.” He tried to move up higher against the pillows. “This is my father, Ben Wilder.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.” Mr. Fenmore shook Dad’s hand.

  “Well, I’ll let you talk business.” Dad edged toward the door. “See you later, son.”