Blessings (22 page)

Dad pushed to his feet. He looked down at her, his face resigned. “All right.” He glanced toward the window. “It’s a pretty day. I think I’ll take a walk.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” He softened the negative reply with a sad smile. “Sometimes it’s good for a man to be alone with his thoughts.”

“Okay.” Trina rose and stepped up to hug her father, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her face into the familiar curve of his shoulder. “I love you, Dad.”

His hands chafed her upper arms, and then he set her aside. “I love you, too, daughter.”

Trina’s heart thrilled to the words. She watched him stride out the door with his hands in his pockets and his head hanging low. His dejected pose brought a rush of pity to the surface, and she closed her eyes.
Lord, please give Dad the same peace You gave me. Not so I can do what I want to, but so he can rest in You
.

Although Dad never mentioned where he’d gone or what he’d done on his walk, the next week was peaceful in the house. The blanket of anger was gone, replaced by a respectful if resigned acceptance far preferable to the gloom of previous days. Trina rejoiced constantly in the change and trusted full acceptance would one day come when her father realized she intended to keep her promise of remaining rooted in the fellowship.

She missed Graham tremendously in the evenings, since she had to spend her after-work hours studying. But she consoled herself with the knowledge that soon she would be his wife. They would reside together in the upstairs of his parents’ home, and she would study at a table in the kitchen, where Graham would sit on the opposite side and read a book each evening. Even if they were quiet together, they would be together.

They enjoyed their brief minutes when Graham transported her to and from Dr. Groening’s clinic each day. Graham began stealing kisses as he let her out of the car, and those tender moments made her long for the day when they could express their affection openly within the privacy of their own rooms.

On Friday, Graham’s kiss lengthened, and Trina giggled as she gently pushed him away. “I have to go in.”

He groaned, grinning. “I know. How many more days?”

“One hundred and twenty.” They had chosen the second Saturday in February as their wedding day, one week after Walt and Michelle’s.

“Then I need one more kiss to make it that long.”

She laughed but obliged, then scooted across the seat. “I’ll see you after work.”

“I love you! Have a good day!” he called as he pulled away.

Still smiling, basking in the warmth of Graham’s love, Trina bounded up the stairs and entered the clinic. “Good morning, Mrs. Penner. Do you have—” She stopped when she noticed a tall, well-dressed man leaning on the counter. As she spoke, he straightened and turned to face her, a smile lighting his narrow face.

“Oh!” Trina smoothed her hands over her work apron. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here already. I’ll just go get started—”

“Trina, wait.” Mrs. Penner’s voice stopped Trina from dashing to the back room. “I want you to meet Marc Royer.”

Trina offered a shy nod at the tall stranger. He held out his hand, and Trina took it, giving it a slight shake. Then she grabbed her apron again. She couldn’t explain why, but the man intimidated her.

Mrs. Penner went on. “Marc was born in Hillsboro, but his family moved away when he was in junior high.”

Trina finally found her voice. “Are you visiting friends?”

Marc Royer flicked his smile to Mrs. Penner then back to Trina. “Not exactly. I’m here to shadow Dr. Groening.”

Confused, Trina looked from one to the other. “ ‘Shadow’?”

“Follow him around today.” Mrs. Penner beamed. “Marc graduated last May as a doctor of veterinary medicine and has come back to his hometown in the hopes of opening a practice.”

Trina’s dreams crumbled at her feet.

T
WENTY-TWO

T
rina stumbled through the day, hardly able to function. If that man—Marc Royer—already had his degree, then surely Dr. Groening would choose to let him purchase the clinic. He would have no need to wait five years for Trina.

Oh God
, her thoughts groaned,
what am I to do? Why did he have to come now?

She managed to complete her tasks with efficiency, keeping her fears to herself until Graham showed up at the end of the day. The moment she slammed the passenger door closed, she covered her face with her hands and let loose a torrent of confused tears.

“Trina!” Graham slid across the seat and embraced her, pulling her head into the curve of his neck. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Trina took great, shuddering breaths to bring herself under control. But when she looked into his worried face, she fell apart again.

He gently set her in her seat and said, “I’ll get you home.”

All the way, Trina stared at the landscape, tears continuing to fall in torrents down her cheeks. Why, why, why did it have to be so hard for her to achieve her dream? She tortured herself with the question that had no answer.

When Graham pulled in front of her house, he put the car in Park, turned off the ignition, and shifted on the seat to face her. “Ready to tell me what happened today?”

Trina sniffed hard and nodded. She shared, haltingly, about Marc Royer’s arrival at the clinic, his educational background, his goals. On a sob, she finished, “So where does that leave me? The clinic won’t be available to me when I finish my schooling.”

Graham pulled his lips to the side, looking at her in silence. Finally, he asked, “Do you have to take over Dr. Groening’s clinic?”

Trina huffed, throwing her hands outward. “Graham! It makes so much sense! He has the building, the equipment. People are used to going there. It would have been so perfect! But now. . .”

“But now maybe God has something else in mind.” Graham caught her hand and carried it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “When God closes a door, there’s usually a reason. Can’t you trust Him with this?”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Trina’s voice sounded hollow from her stuffed-up nose. She snuffled again and shook her head, turning to stare out the window. “You didn’t just get the rug pulled out from under your feet. All my plans. . .”

“All
your
plans?”

Trina recognized the emphasis. She clamped her teeth together and refused to answer.

Graham lowered their joined hands to the seat. “Trina, you haven’t been in charge of this from the beginning. Why did you choose to pursue becoming a vet? Because God led you to. Don’t turn it into
your
plans now, or nothing will work right. You know that.”

Shamed, she knew he was right. But the pain of finding a degreed doctor ready and able to assume responsibility for the clinic was still too fresh. She stared out the window and refused to answer.

After a long while, Graham spoke in a reasonable tone. “Look at the obstacles you’ve had to overcome to get this far. You had to convince me and your family that it was right, you had to convince the fellowship leaders it was right, you had to prepare to be accepted into a college. Look at everything you’ve accomplished so far.”

“Look at how many mountains I had to climb already,” she shot back.

“All of which God helped you climb,” he returned calmly.

Her frustration grew. Why did he have to be sensible? “Maybe I’m
tired
of climbing, Graham!”

“Then maybe you aren’t cut out to be a veterinarian.”

At his soft statement, Trina whirled to face him, her mouth dropping open. “What?”

He met her gaze squarely. No hint of a smile showed on his lips. “If you get a case with an animal that’s hard to solve—an illness you can’t figure out at first—will you just quit and let the animal die?”

“Of course not!” How dare he even suggest something like that?

“What you’re facing right now isn’t much different, Trina. It’s a challenge. So this Marc somebody—”

“Royer.”

“—Royer is here, ready to take over. Sure, it works better for Dr. Groening, so he’ll probably let him take over. But that doesn’t mean there will never be room for you. It just means you’ve got some competition. A challenge. The question is, are you going to meet it or be defeated by it?”

Trina thought about Graham’s words. She wanted to rise to the challenge, to let everyone know nothing or nobody would hold her back from walking where God directed her to walk, but at the moment she felt spent. She didn’t have the energy to form a response, let alone rise to a challenge.

And then her greatest fear struck—the one that had festered in the far corner of her mind all day. The one she hadn’t wanted to bring out and examine but knew must be addressed. She swallowed, took a breath, and whispered, “But. . .what if this is God’s way of telling me I’ve been going the wrong way?”

Graham lowered his brows, his expression thoughtful. “Are you thinking He doesn’t want you to be a veterinarian, after all?”

“Do you think it might be possible?” Trina held her breath, thoughts tumbling through her mind. What if this whole idea was her own fanciful flight rather than God’s will? If she gave up the dream, things would be much simpler. Her father could relax, the fellowship would return to normal, Graham wouldn’t have to sell his house.. . .

She stared at him, waiting, while her heart beat in fear—or hope?— that he would agree with her statement.

Suddenly he shook his head, his fingers clamping hard around her hand. “I don’t believe that, Trina. I’ve had too much peace about it to think it’s wrong. And I’ve seen too much evidence of growth and peace in you to think it’s wrong. You’re meant to be given the work of your hands as a caregiver for animals.”

Trina released her breath on a lengthy sigh. Having his confirmation helped eliminate the mighty worry. Yet another one remained, nearly as sizable as the first. “But do you think I’ll still be able to be a veterinarian in Sommerfeld? In all the years Dr. Groening has practiced veterinary medicine, he’s handled it alone. If Marc Royer takes his place, then—”

“Then we’ll figure something out.” Graham rested his head briefly against the seat. When he looked at her again, conviction burned in his eyes. “God never said we wouldn’t face hardship in life. He only promised to walk with us. He’s been your companion along this journey so far. He’s even managed to convince several people to walk along beside you as your encouragers. I don’t know why this other man has shown up now, but I do know you can’t quit. You
can’t
quit, Trina.”

“You can’t quit, Trina.”
Those words carried Trina through the week. She deliberately called upon them as she studied and completed assignments. She pulled them out and let them be her encouragement when faced with an unpleasant task at the clinic. She whispered them to herself when Marc Royer returned for a second day of shadowing Dr. Groening. And she nearly chanted them aloud when Dr. Groening took her aside on Friday to talk.

By the look on his face, she knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. “Trina, I know you hoped to be able to take over the clinic when you get through school, and it pains me to disappoint you, but—”

Trina nodded. “You’re going to sell it to Marc Royer.”

Dr. Groening sighed, sympathy in his lined eyes. “Yes. After the first of the year, we’ll make it official. In the meantime, he’ll be working with me, familiarizing himself with the area and gaining the trust of the folks who live around here.”

Trina crossed her arms, trying to press away the ache that filled her middle. “But there must be other places he could work—other cities. Why here?”
Why my town?

“Since he lived in Hillsboro when he was a youngster, he feels at home in this area. He’s eager to stay.”

Trina blinked hard, determined not to cry. But the doctor must have seen the presence of tears, because he put his warm hand on her shoulder.

“Your job is secure. Even Marc acknowledges your assistance is needed. As long as you want to, you can still help out here. And when you have your degree, maybe you and Marc can work together—a partnership.”

Heat flooded Trina’s face. She couldn’t imagine joining in a partnership with a man. Especially a man who was not Mennonite. She didn’t answer.

The older doctor sighed, lowering his gaze for a moment. “But if you decide you don’t want to work here—”

“I need the job.” If she was to pay for college, she had to work. Graham was giving up his house for her education—the least she could do was contribute.

“Good. Well, then. . .” Dr. Groening stepped back and slipped his hands into the pockets of his faded blue scrub top. “I just hope you understand this has nothing to do with a lack of confidence in you. I’ve seen you with animals, Trina. You’ll make a fine doctor one day. I only wish you were further along in your studies. Maybe then. . .”

Trina nodded, forcing a smile. “It’s all right, Dr. Groening. I understand. And I appreciate your kind words. Whether I end up practicing in Sommerfeld or not, I will still be a veterinarian. Graham and I agree it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

But, God,
her thoughts continued as she headed for the door to meet Graham for the ride home,
I wish You’d let me know where I’m meant to serve as a veterinarian. I don’t think Dad will ever forgive me if I leave another hole where a person used to be
.

Graham flicked the edges of the Louis L’Amour western he’d brought along to keep himself occupied while Trina took her midsemester exams. He wished he’d brought a second book, too. Next time he’d know to plan for more than two hours of waiting.

The chair, although padded, boasted a straight back that kept him uncomfortably upright. If he slouched, the slickness of the vinyl cover made him feel as though he might slide right off onto the tiled floor. An action like that would certainly capture attention. And he was conspicuous enough already.

Perched in a seating area where two bustling hallways converged, he was in a prime location to be noticed. Normally when he ventured away from Sommerfeld, he was in a group. Being alone in worldly surroundings was new and, he decided with a tug at his collar, less than pleasant. No one was rude to him, but he was painfully aware of the curious glances, the muffled giggles, the whispered comments— “What’s up with that?” and “Dude, call the fashion police.” When with his friends, he could focus on them and ignore gawkers. But today he didn’t have that privilege.

A door down the left hallway opened, and people spilled out. Graham glanced up, his heart leaping with anticipation—was Trina coming? But to his dismay, he realized the classroom door through which she had disappeared was farther down. Stifling a frustrated huff of breath, he opened the novel and began reading it for the second time.

He was just starting the fourth chapter when another
click
and several voices pulled his attention away from the book. This time, he spotted Trina among the group milling in the hallway. The other students made a berth around her, making it easy for her to rush toward him. He rose, reaching for her sweater, which she’d left on the chair beside him, and smiled as she approached.