A Test of Faith (33 page)

“You what?”

Zeke grabbed an apple from the basket on the kitchen counter and took a bite. “I contacted a Realtor. If we’re going to get that house a few blocks from your parents’ place, I figured we’d better act on it fast.”

“How did you—?”

His grin was pure delighted smugness. “Hey, I’m a contractor, remember? I build houses for a living?”

“Beautiful houses, thank you.” Which they were. Zeke’s homes were almost a work of art, built to suit the specific needs of those who would be living in them. Which was why he was in such high demand.

He inclined his head. “And you’re not the only one who drives around that neighborhood watching for places to go on the market. I want to be closer to your parents, too.”

She’d leapt into his arms with a squeal, not even caring that the apple flew out of his hand and landed with a
plop
on the floor.

They’d bought the house, and it all worked out even better than they’d hoped. Zeke and Faith’s dad got along so well, they did yard and house work together. Faith walked to their house for visits several times a week.

That had been especially helpful as her mom’s diabetes grew more severe. Mom had difficulty walking. Standing for more than ten or fifteen minutes was terribly painful for her. Faith and Zeke went to her parents’ every other night for dinner,
and Faith prepared meals for her folks because her mother couldn’t cook any longer. And every other weekend she and Zeke went over to clean.

Faith knew it bothered Mom that she couldn’t take care of the house and cooking, but she was working hard at accepting her limitations. She always told Faith how grateful she was for her help. And how guilty she felt that the help was necessary.

She’d said that again just yesterday. “I’m so mad at myself.”

Faith looked at her. “Why, Mom?”

“Look what I’ve done to myself. If only I’d been more careful with what I ate, more determined to exercise.”

“You did the best you could with what you knew, Mom.”

“I wish the doctors had told me, but then, they didn’t know yet, did they?”

Faith stroked her arm. “What?”

“That once you’re diagnosed with diabetes, you have a window of about fifteen years to manage the disease well.”

Yes, that would have been vital information. Might have made all the difference. If her mom had known that what she did in those fifteen years would impact how devastating the disease would be, the extent of the complications … But it didn’t help to think that way. They
hadn’t
known it then.

Mom sighed. “Back when you were young, I used to think you were the rebellious one in the family. But I’ve been rebellious all along, eating what I wanted when I wanted, even though I knew it wasn’t right. Or healthy.” She took Faith’s hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie, that all this falls to you.”

Faith hugged her tight. “I’m not! It gives me more time to spend with you.”

She meant it, too. She loved being with her mom, talking and sharing. Her mother had been an invaluable sounding board when Faith and Zeke finally gave up actively trying to have a baby.

“The doctors have no explanation,” Faith told her mom one day through tears. “They say we should be able to get pregnant, but we’re not. So that’s it.”

“That’s what?”

Faith put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in
her hands. “We’re not going to keep trying. I mean, we won’t do anything to keep it from happening, but no more counting days and taking temperatures and all of that.”

“Well … that’s good.”

Faith sat back, staring at her mother. “It is?”

“Absolutely. That means you’re going to trust God with it all.”

Faith thought about that, then gave a slow nod. “Yes, I guess it does.”

“Then it’s not just a good thing—” her mother said as she refilled Faith’s glass of tea—“it’s a
very
good thing. Believe me, I know. I waited long enough for you.”

“You had a hard time, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I knew God was calling me to be a mother. And I wasn’t going to let diabetes keep me from that. Your dad and I prayed and prayed. And when the doctor told me it wasn’t safe for me to become pregnant, we prayed some more. And here you are!”

Faith laughed. “Here I are! Was it worth the wait?”

Her mom’s eyes shone. “Absolutely.”

Faith let her hand rest on her flat abdomen. Waiting on God was definitely the best thing to do. But it was so hard! She longed for a child, longed to be a mother, longed especially to share with her daughter all the things her mother had shared with her. The idea that it might never happen made her heart ache.

But there was no denying that it was up to God. Faith would have to learn how to be content as she waited on Him.

“So—” Zeke’s sleepy voice drew her attention back to him—“are we going to your folks’ for dinner tonight?”

Faith pulled her knees to her chest and circled her arms around them. “As far as I know. I told Daddy we’d pick up Chinese.”

“Egg rolls?”

From the anticipation in his tone, Faith knew Zeke’s mouth was already watering. “What good is Chinese without egg rolls?”

Zeke jumped up from his lawn chair and pulled her into a
tight hug. “See? I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re a smart little fortune cookie.” He nuzzled her neck. “Mmmm, I
love
fortune cookies.”

She poked his side, but before he could retaliate the phone rang.

“I’ll get it.” Zeke was off, covering the ground between them and the house easily with those long legs.

Faith lowered herself back into her chair. Life wasn’t perfect. Not by any means. Her mom had suffered extensive neuropathy in her feet, which affected her balance. The doctor told them it made it hard for Mom to sense her connection with the ground. That was probably why she had fallen a couple of times. That was the hardest for Mom, falling like that. Faith could remember her mother scrambling over the rocks on their visits to the ocean when she was small. Her mother had always been so surefooted, so nimble. Now…

It took a long drink of cold tea to dislodge the lump in Faith’s throat. No, life wasn’t perfect. But it was good. Very good.

So quit worrying, will you?

Faith laughed softly. Jennifer, one of the coffee crew, had said that to her at coffee last Thursday. “Faith, stop worrying. Relax. God’s in control! Either you trust that or you don’t.”

Before Faith could respond, the others chimed in.

“You know what you need? A hot bath.” This from Deb, the tenderhearted dreamer in the group. “Light some scented candles, put on some soft music …”

“… and burn the house down.” Patti’s cheeky grin never failed to make Faith laugh.

Connie piped up. “But you’ll be okay, ’cuz you’re in the tub.”

“You’re terrible!” Deb would have been far more believable if she hadn’t been laughing as she scolded Connie.

“Of course she is.” Andi leaned back in her chair. “She’s Connie.”

“Ha ha.” Connie met this scintillating repartee by sticking out her tongue.

Sandy, who was the Earth Mother of the group—she was
the first woman Faith had ever met who
enjoyed
elk hunting and wilderness camping—put her hand on Faith’s arm. “You know, that’s what I love about these women. Their spiritual maturity.”

“We’re mature.”

Faith looked at Linda. She always seemed so steady, so grounded. Faith wished she could be more like that. “We are?”

“Sure.” Linda’s dimples peeked out. “
Mature
is another word for old, right? Well, we’re definitely that!”

The table erupted into a free-for-all of laughter and playful insults, and even Lori, the quiet philosopher in the group, couldn’t let Linda’s cut go by without comment. “Old is a state of mind, nothing more.”

“Yeah,” Connie could hardly get the words out she was laughing so hard, “but the state of my mind is utter confusion!”

Faith chuckled anew at the memory. They had such fun together. What a rare combination to find friends who could laugh or be serious with equal ease.

She took another sip of tea, then stretched out. For once she would listen to Jennifer’s wisdom and stop worrying. Overall, her mother seemed to be doing well. Dealing with her disease better than ever before.

The doctor was keeping a close eye on her and had even scheduled some tests for today, just to be sure everything was okay. Yes, Mom had to fight continual weight gain, but with the doctor’s guidance and the probable adjustment he’d make in her medications after today’s test, things should be fine.

Besides, wasn’t Mom always telling her worry was a waste of time and energy?

She lifted her face to the sun’s rays, letting the warmth caress her cheeks. Yup. For once, she would let worry take care of itself. Let those unfounded fears and apprehension drift off to some faraway place where they couldn’t touch her.

Relax. Enjoy.

Always good counsel. Today she’d follow it.

And nothing was going to stop her.

twenty-five

“FAITH.”

She started. She’d dozed off, and Zeke’s voice shot through her like an electrical jolt. She turned, blinking away the drowsiness. He stood there beside her, holding out the phone. “It’s your dad.”

Something in his tone set her nerves on alert. Wide awake now, she sat up and swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the lounger. Heart pounding, her gaze rested on her husband’s face.

His expression was clear. She’d been wrong. Something was definitely going to ruin this day.

He handed her the receiver, capturing her hand between his as she took it. Their eyes met. “It’s your mom. It’s not good.”

Worry cackled, slid from that faraway place where she’d banished it, and returned to gnaw at her. She felt it slither from there to settle on her brow, folding it into deep creases. She raised a hand to rub away the sudden throb behind her temples.

She lifted the receiver to her ear. “Dad?”

“Hi, punkin’.”

Something was in her father’s tone … something heavy. Like the feeling in her gut.

“Your mom’s in the ER, hon.”

Faith swallowed back the fear and sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes to focus, to make sure she took the information in around the waves of panic fogging her mind. She listened, honing in on the unfamiliar tremor in her father’s voice.

God … help him. Please, help him…

“The doctor says your mother had pulmonary edema.”

“Pulmonary edema.” She nodded, as though she understood what that meant. She didn’t. Didn’t have a clue. All she knew was it sounded serious.

“From what I can understand, it’s a severe form of congestive heart failure.”

“Heart failure?” Faith almost choked on the words, and her gaze met Zeke’s. He moved to sit beside her on the lounger. He didn’t touch her, just let his presence support her.

“He said her lungs and heart were surrounded with fluid, and that made her heart work too hard. Less efficient.” Her father hesitated, and Faith gripped the phone with both hands, wishing she were there beside him.

Please, God…

“It limited the amount of oxygen getting to her system, which made it really hard for her to breathe. She told the tech she couldn’t lie on her back because she couldn’t breathe, but he wouldn’t listen. Told her the test had to be done that way. Had her lie flat anyway. And you know how anxious she was about this test.”

“I know.” Faith forced reassurance into her tone—which wasn’t easy considering what she wanted to do was scream. She reached for Zeke’s hand and clutched it in her own.

“Anyway, by the time she told them she had to get out of the machine, she was in pretty serious trouble. They rushed her to the ER and hooked her up to oxygen and started her on nitroglycerin and some other things—diuretics of some sort—to get rid of the liquid gathered around her lungs and heart.”

O God…
Faith closed her eyes.
God, please…

“And they put in a catheter, too. Then they came and got me.”

Faith’s eyes jerked opened at that. “You … you weren’t with her?”

“No.” His voice cracked, and that told her more clearly than any words could how upset he’d been at that fact. “It all happened so fast. They had to get her to the ER right away. I was still sitting in the waiting room of the office where they’d been doing the test.”

“Oh, Daddy …”

“I knew something was going on, though. The doctor said the test would only take twenty or thirty minutes. It was over an hour by the time they told me they’d taken your mother to the ER.”

Faith realized her knuckles were turning white from her grip on the phone. She relaxed her fingers. “Are you there now, in the ER?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there. And Daddy?”

“Yes.”

She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. When she finally forced them out, they were thick with tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

As quickly as she could, Faith filled Zeke in. He listened, watching her face. Faith looked down at their linked hands. How often had she seen her parents hold hands like this? More times than she could count.