A Test of Faith (38 page)

“Ezekiel?”

He looked toward the bed. Anne was awake, watching him. He lay his hand over hers, where it rested on the bed. “Hello, beautiful.”

Her smile was as sweet and loving as ever. “Thank you.”

“For calling you beautiful?” He winked.

Her breathless laughter tugged at his heart.
Help her, Lord. Ease her pain
.

“No, though that was nice. Thank you for being there for Faith. For being the man you are.” Her eyes misted. “For loving my little girl so well.”

It was hard to talk around the emotion surging through him. “Thank you for raising her so well.”

Anne gave a small shake of her head. “Oh, Zeke, I did so many things wrong, but God kept hold of Faith in spite of me. I’m so proud of her, of all she’s made of her life, of the way she’s living for Him.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m so grateful God never let her go.”

Zeke stroked the back of her hand. “He’s never let either of you go, Anne.”

“No, He hasn’t. Even now—” she looked around the room—“I know He’s with me, watching over me.” Her eyes shone with an inner confidence. “No matter what happens.”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“You’ve always told me you and Faith were different.”

She nodded.

“But you’re not. Not really. Your daughter is just like you, Anne.” He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “She’s easy to love.”

When Faith got home that evening, Zeke met her at the door. He’d been doing that lately, standing there and opening his arms, letting her walk into them, holding her until she was ready to move away.

Usually that only took a few minutes. Tonight she might stay in those arms for good.

“Did your day go any better?”

With a sigh, she pulled away. “They actually brought the right kind of meal for Mom at dinner, but she was dozing again. Dad and I couldn’t get her awake enough to eat. And when she was awake right before we left, her right shoulder, front
and
back, was hurting her like crazy.”

Faith rubbed a trembling hand over her burning eyes. “It’s probably muscles and tendons protesting at the use they’re getting. You know, with the physical therapy. I rubbed some topical pain stuff on it, but Zeke, it hurt so much she was in tears. She couldn’t even lift that hand to feed herself. Daddy had to feed her.”

His touch, as he led her to the couch, communicated his sympathy. They sat, and she curled into the shielding circle of his arm.

“How’s your dad holding up?”

Faith rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen the tense muscles. “He’s so tired. He told me when I got to the nursing home this morning that Mom didn’t want him to leave last night. So he stayed until they kicked him out, way after ten.
He was so tired when he got home, he didn’t eat. Just went to bed. But he hardly slept.”

She lay her head back, so weary she could hardly think straight. “I’m almost as worried about him as I am about her. His eyes are so full of sorrow.” Her voice choked up, and she cleared her throat to continue. “It’s so hard to see Mom the way she is now. And it’s not only the physical stuff, though that’s bad enough. There are so many indignities she has to endure, and they’re as wearing as the constant physical struggle.”

She pulled her knees to her chest. “I wish I could wave a magic wand and make her all better and strong.”

“That’s not your job, Faith.” Zeke’s quiet words held the ring of truth.

She nodded. “I know.”

“You may not like the way things are going, but you have to believe God knows what’s happening and what’s coming. He’s with your mom. And with you.”

Tears trickled down Faith’s face, and she turned to press into his shoulder. He held her while she cried. When she finally stilled, he smoothed back her hair.

“Speaking of eating, the church folks brought another meal.”

She looked at him. “You’re kidding.”

Their church family had been amazing, visiting her mother in the nursing home, providing her father and them with meals for the whole time her mother had been ill. The food was almost as delicious as the fact that Faith hadn’t had to even think about cooking.

He grinned. “Nope. I think it’s spaghetti. And you need to eat to keep up your strength. So come on.”

Zeke stood, holding out his hand. She took it and let him pull her up. They made their way to the kitchen, but as Faith prepared a plate of delicious-smelling food—as she sat at their kitchen table, so grateful to be in her own home—she couldn’t help thinking of her mother.

Three months. That’s how long her mother had been fighting this physical assault. That’s how long since her mother had been in her own beloved home, the place she’d shared with
Dad for almost forty-nine years. Three months since she’d been able to walk well, to breathe without struggle. Three months of one crisis after another.

And if Faith was exhausted, she couldn’t imagine how deep her mother’s weariness and despair went.

The feel of Zeke’s hand on hers pulled her from her dark thoughts. She met his gaze, and the love and tenderness she saw there warmed her suddenly cold heart.

“You want to pray for your mom and dad?”

She couldn’t speak, so she nodded. As they bowed their heads, Faith knew she was blessed among women. Not only did she have the best mother and father in the world, she had the best husband as well.

twenty-nine

IT ONLY TOOK TWO DAYS FOR DISASTER TO STRIKE
.

Again.

Faith and her dad were at the nursing home with Mom. They’d gone with her to physical therapy, then come back to the room to sit and watch TV together. Mom’s breathing grew more and more ragged as the day wore on. By the afternoon, she couldn’t walk at all, could hardly stand. Faith asked the nurses about it, but they said her mother was fine.

Dad was worried, but both he and her mother didn’t argue with nurses or doctors. They trusted them.

But when Mom’s face turned pasty white, Faith was at the nurses’ desk, demanding to see the administrator. One of the nurses Faith had asked about her mother earlier looked up from the paperwork she was filling out.

“What can we do for you, Mrs. Galine?”

“You can get the administrator.”

“If you’ll tell me what’s wrong—” The woman’s condescending tone and look of strained patience was more than Faith could bear.

“What’s wrong is my mother can’t breathe. What’s wrong is I’ve asked you and two others to come check her oxygen levels, and no one has done so. What’s wrong is my mother is in trouble, and all you seem to care about is your stupid paperwork!”

With that, Faith reached down and snatched the papers from beneath the nurse’s pen. She crumpled the papers in her hand.

“Mrs. Galine!”

The woman was on her feet, but Faith didn’t care. “I told you this morning Mom was acting the way she did before, when fluid was gathering around her lungs and heart.”

“It would be extremely unusual for that to happen again so soon.”

Faith fought back a scream. “Are you
listening
to me? My. Mother. Can’t.
Breathe!
” She planted her hands on the desk. “Now either you get on the phone and call the doctor, or I’m taking her out of here. Now!”

“Fine!” The nurse didn’t even try to hide her disgust. Faith didn’t care. All she cared was that she was picking up the phone and dialing.

When the nurse described the symptoms Faith saw in her mother, the doctor ordered her sent immediately to the ER. He was there to meet them when they arrived. He listened to her breathe and ordered X-rays.

Two hours later, Faith’s mom was back in the hospital. Fluid had, indeed, gathered around her heart and lungs again. More than ever before. The doctor said her lung capacity was down to about a quarter of normal.

No wonder she’d struggled so to breathe!

After Mom was settled in her room, Dr. Campbell took Faith and her dad aside. “I’m concerned this has happened three times now since Mrs. Bennett’s heart surgery. Her heart is working well, so that’s not the problem. Which means we have an underlying issue to deal with.”

An underlying issue? Faith went cold. What did that mean?

Dr. Campbell slid his hands into the pockets of his white
coat. “We’ll send Mrs. Bennett back to the nursing home tomorrow morning. I’d like to put her on increased doses of diuretic to try and get the fluid out from around the lungs. We’ll do that through the weekend, then reevaluate.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

The doctor looked at Faith’s father, his gaze steady. “Then we’re looking at lung surgery.”

“Another surgery?” Faith’s mind felt like it was going numb. How could her mother endure another surgery? “Is she strong enough?”

“We’ll do everything we can to ensure she is.”

Amazing what little comfort that was.

The phone call came early Friday morning.

It was Faith’s dad.

As Dr. Campbell had directed, Mom returned to the nursing home. They’d started the regimen of diuretics, which seemed to be helping. Until this morning.

“Your mom went into respiratory distress.” Dad’s voice was trembling. “The nursing home called the EMTs to take her back to the hospital.”

“I’ll be right there, Dad.”

She hung up and turned into Zeke’s arms. Her breath catching on sobs, she told Zeke what was happening.

“I’m going with you to the hospital.”

Faith didn’t argue.

When they walked into her mother’s hospital room, the sight of Mom’s white face … 
Jesus, please
 … She steadied her voice. “Hey, Mom.”

Her mother’s smile trembled from behind the oxygen mask. The all-too-familiar sound of oxygen hissing from the tank whispered around them. Faith met her father’s eyes.

“They’ve scheduled your mother for lung surgery today.”

It was a good thing Zeke’s arm was supporting Faith, because her knees went weak at this news.

Just then the nurse came into the room. “You ready for your epidural, Mrs. Bennett?”

Mom’s smile was as sweet as ever. “Sure.”

The nurse moved to place a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Hon, just so you know, with your breathing depressed the way it is, we can’t give you much pain medication for putting the epidural in. I’m afraid this is going to hurt a bit.” Her gaze lifted to Faith’s father. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you all to step outside.”

Mom reached for Dad’s hand. “I want Jared to stay.”

The nurse’s tone was kind but firm. “I know, Mrs. Bennett, but he can’t. I promise, it will only take a minute. Then he can come back in.”

Faith’s dad kissed her mom, then Faith went to cup her
mother’s face, to look into her deep green eyes. Eyes so like her own. Eyes filled with love.

“I love you, Mom.”

Her mother smiled, and that gaspy voice replied, “I love you too, sweetheart. I always will.”

Throat tight, Faith turned and walked with her father and Zeke from the room. Faith put her arm around her father’s shoulders, leaning her head against his arm.

Her father had always seemed taller than anyone else, taller and straighter and stronger. A tall oak that never bent, no matter how fierce the gale. But when he spoke, Faith heard the tremor in his words. “She looked so afraid.”