A Test of Faith (35 page)

“Everything’s going to be okay. God’s in control.”

Of course, Jennifer added that she needed to relax, and Deb told her to take a hot bath. Sandy suggested a long walk in the woods, and Patti urged her to “go ahead and have a tantrum if you want, you’re entitled.” Lori sent her a heartwarming prayer, Linda sent her a moving devotion, and Connie sent her a joke that had her in stitches. Andi and Connie assured her they were with her. Every step of the way.

Faith sat there, grinning at her computer screen through her tears, more grateful than she could ever express for these crazy, heart-friends.

The
Floodwaters

“And the floodwaters rise …”

M
ATTHEW
7:25

twenty-seven

TWO DAYS HAD NEVER PASSED SO FAST
.

And four hours had never passed so slowly.

Faith looked up from the magazine she’d been trying to read for three of those four hours. None of the words seemed to penetrate. All she saw when she stared at the page was her mother’s face.

Why didn’t the doctor call?

The surgery should have been finished over an hour ago.

“You want to take a walk?”

Faith mustered a smile for her husband. “That’d be nice.” Good thing he had employees he trusted to oversee the company when he was gone. With all the time he’d spent with her at the hospital, he’d be in trouble if he didn’t have good people to take the reins for him.

She stood, studying Dad’s face as she did so. He looked so weary. “Dad, can we get you anything?”

“I’m fine, dear.”

If only that were true. But he was as worried as she was, and she knew it.

“Zeke and I are going to stretch our legs. We’ll be right back.” He nodded, and they went around the corner to the desk where the Pink Lady sat. The sprightly little woman came hours ago to let them know that the surgery had begun.

“The next phone call will be to let you know she’s off the bypass machine and the heart is working.” Her smile had been confident and comforting, putting Faith more at ease.

Until now, that was, when Faith glanced at the clock and realized how long ago that first call had been.

The Pink Lady looked up as Faith and Zeke approached, answering the question before Faith could ask it. “No word, dear.” She smiled. “But don’t worry. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

Well, that makes one of us
.

The phone rang. Faith froze, looking up when her father came to stand beside her. The Pink Lady spoke briefly, then turned to them with a bright smile. “Your wife is off the bypass machine, Mr. Bennett.”

“Thank God!”

Faith hugged her father’s waist. “How long until we can see her?”

The woman glanced up at the clock. “It shouldn’t be long at all. The surgeon will come out to talk to you first.”

Faith’s father nodded, then went back to sit in the waiting area. Zeke rubbed Faith’s back. “God’s with your mom, darlin’. I know it.”

The Pink Lady reached out and touched Faith’s hand.

“I’m glad the surgery is going well.”

Emotion welled up within Faith, making her words hoarse. “Me, too.”

The surgeon came around the corner about an hour later. He shook Zeke’s and Dad’s hands and smiled. “She did great, Mr. Bennett. It was a hard procedure. Her weight complicated matters, but it all worked out fine. We did the valve replacement
and a triple bypass. Your wife flew off the bypass machine like a champ—”

Way to go, Mom
.

“—and within minutes we were using meds to lower her blood pressure when we usually have to use them to raise it. So that’s all good. The next few days are critical, of course, but we’re encouraged.”

“Can we see her?”

At the eagerness in her father’s voice, Faith slipped her hand in the crook of his arm.

“Give them about a half hour to get her settled, then call on the white phone and go on in.”

Faith threw herself into Zeke’s arms and hugged him.

“Whoa, darlin’. I need to breathe.”

“She’s going to be okay, Zeke. She’s going to be okay.”

He cradled her against his chest. “God’s good, no doubt about it.”

The phone on the Pink Lady’s desk rang. She answered it, then turned toward Faith and Zeke. “Mr. Galine?”

Zeke nodded. She held the phone out to him, and he talked for a few minutes, then hung up.

“Trouble?”

“Looks like we’ve got a slight problem at one of our sites.”

Faith’s dad put his hand on Zeke’s arm. “Go ahead and deal with your business, Zeke.”

“Are you sure?”

Faith nodded. “Go ahead, sweetheart. I’ll ride home with Dad.”

Zeke gave Faith and her father a hug. “I’ll keep praying.”

Faith touched his cheek. “I know. Thank you.”

Neither Faith nor her father could sit still for the next half hour. When the wait was finally over and they’d made the call, Faith’s heart pounded as she followed her dad down the sterile hallway to the Cardiac Care Unit. The nurse met them as they came in.

“Faith, Mr. Bennett! I’m so glad to see you!”

Faith stared, then her mouth fell open. “Winnie?”

The nurse’s grin was broad and warm. “I would have known you anywhere, Faith.”

“I can’t believe you work here.” Faith looked around, then shook her head and took Winnie’s hand in hers. “No, I take that back. I can’t imagine you doing anything else.”

Winnie squeezed her hand. “Well, you always said I wanted to fix people, and you were right.” She waved her hand, indicating the unit. “Plenty of people here to fix.” Her smile softened. “Some of them more special than others. You ready to see your mom?”

At Faith’s nod, Winnie led them to Mom’s room.

Her father hesitated at the doorway, closing his eyes for a moment. She knew he was praying, asking for strength. Then he straightened and walked into the room.

The doctor and the Pink Lady had warned Faith and her dad that Mom would look bad—kind of white and gray—after the surgery. But Faith looked at her, lying there—deep asleep, her soft salt-and-pepper hair framing her face on the pillow—and she knew they were wrong.

Her mom didn’t look bad. She was beautiful.

Alive and breathing and utterly beautiful.

Winnie made a gentle adjustment to Mom’s pillow. “Look at those pretty pink cheeks.” She smoothed Mom’s hair back. “She’s got great color, and believe me, that’s unusual. Patients of this kind of surgery don’t usually look that good until a day or so into recovery.” She smiled at Faith’s dad. “You can tell Mrs. Bennett really wants to get better and go home soon.”

“Not near as much as I want her there.”

At the choked sound of his words, Faith had to blink to hold back the tears. She went to put her arm around her dad’s shoulders.

After a moment of looking at Mom’s face, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. Then he sighed and looked at Faith. “She’s going to be okay.”

“She’s going to be great, Dad.”

He gave her a weary smile as he took her arm, and they waved good-bye to Winnie and left the room. “She already is, hon. Always has been.”

The next several days went by in a blur of visits to the CCU. Faith’s mother progressed, though more slowly than the doctors had hoped. The first few days she’d been disoriented and frightened—which was even more upsetting for Faith than it was for her, because when it was over, her mom didn’t remember it. But Winnie’s calm presence kept Faith calm as well, and it was Winnie who finally discovered Mom was reacting badly to the pain medication. Once they got that changed, things were better.

Even so, Faith couldn’t shake a heavy sense of dread. It had been five days since the surgery, and Mom still hadn’t talked to anyone. Only that morning, while she and Zeke were visiting, Faith had to step out of the room to keep Mom from seeing how distressed she was.

“Faith?”

She turned to face Winnie. Her struggle must have been evident in her features, because Winnie took her by the arm and led her to the nurses’ station. She sat Faith in a chair, then got her a cup of cold water to drink. Faith sipped at the liquid, letting it run down her throat.

Winnie stood there, compassion evident in her features, her stance.

When Faith could speak, she sighed. “I-I’m sorry, Winnie.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

Faith stood. “It’s just that she won’t talk! I try and try to get her to say something, but she lies there, looking at me with those wide, hurting eyes.” She swallowed back a sob. “I know she’s in pain, Win. But why won’t she talk?”

“Sometimes when patients have been through a great deal of struggle, not just with the surgery but even before that, their poor, weary brains need time to heal as well as their bodies.”

Faith looked at Winnie, taking in the kindness wreathing her face, the gentle beauty she’d acquired as an adult. Or had it always been there, and Faith had been too full of herself to see it?

“Winnie, I’m really sorry.”

She shook the apology away. “It’s a normal reaction, Faith.”

“No. I don’t mean about today. I mean about … before.” She wanted to hide her shame by looking at the floor, but she wouldn’t let herself off the hook that easily. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids. You were my friend, and I blew you off.” She straightened, meeting Winnie’s gaze without flinching. “You didn’t deserve that, and I was wrong.”

She waited for the change in Winnie’s features, for the memory of those days to cloud her smile. But it didn’t happen. If anything, the compassion and kindness in the other woman’s smile only deepened.