Blessings (28 page)

Graham processed everything his father had said. He focused in on one thing: rehabilitation clinic in Nebraska? He’d never been out of Kansas, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. But if it meant walking again, he’d go. He had to walk. He had to work. He couldn’t allow this accident to keep Trina from finishing college. She depended on him.

The pressure in his back increased, turning into a dull ache. He grimaced, squinting his eyes closed.

“Are you hurting, son?” His mother’s anxious voice carried to his ear.

“A little.”

“I’ll get a nurse.”

Graham decided he would avoid asking for painkillers as much as possible. The medication instantly put him to sleep, and he’d already lost too many days of his life. From this point on, he needed to be awake and alert. He had work to do.

The doctor came in Saturday morning with a chart of a spine to explain Graham’s injury. Graham found the terms
cervical
,
thoracic
, and
lumbar
confusing, but he managed to comprehend that his injury—which the doctor called a T-11—affected his legs but not his arms. The doctor explained that many people with lower thoracic injuries regained the full use of their legs over time, and he encouraged Graham to make walking his goal.

“Of course,” Graham retorted with vehemence.

But when the doctor indicated months of therapy, Graham’s resolve wavered. Months? He didn’t have months. He’d sold his house—he would be living in Mom and Dad’s upstairs. He needed to work to support Trina—how could he cut and haul lumber from a wheelchair? And would it be fair to Trina to saddle her with a husband who couldn’t take care of her? Of himself? He didn’t want
her
taking care of
him
!

After the doctor left, Graham closed his eyes so his parents would think he was sleeping, but inwardly he raged at the unfairness of the situation. He might as well be an invalid. He would only hold Trina back. Her studies would be set aside so she could see to his needs. Instead of caring for animals, as she’d planned, she’d be stuck caring for him—a grown man.

He stifled the anguished groan that longed for release.
Oh Lord, I don’t understand. Why did You allow this to happen?
Graham had been taught that all things worked together for good for those who were called to God’s purpose, but he couldn’t see any good in being stuck in a wheelchair while Trina set aside her own dreams to wipe his chin and help him change his socks.

His back throbbed. His legs ached. Temptation to ask for more pain medication to give him blessed escape pressed hard. But he knew the moment he awakened from the drug-induced rest, the worst pain would still be with him. How could he set aside the sharp agony of disappointment?

T
WENTY-EIGHT

H
ere you are, Trina.” Dr. Groening placed a paycheck into Trina’s waiting hand. “It includes a small bonus.”

Trina’s eyes widened. “Oh, Dr. Groening, that isn’t necessary!”

The older man smiled, his eyes crinkling. “You let me decide what is and isn’t necessary. I appreciate your hard work, and I know you have a heavy load to carry between working here and keeping up with your studies.” He frowned, crossing his arms. “When are finals?”

“Another four weeks,” Trina said. She didn’t know who would take her—Graham was still in Nebraska with his mother, although his dad was home running the lumberyard. No one seemed to know when Graham’s time in rehabilitation would end. Her chest held a constant deep ache from missing him.

“Being able to use both hands must make things easier,” he said.

Trina rubbed her left wrist. The splint had come off only three days ago, and it felt odd not to have it there. A twinge reminded her not to overuse the wrist, but typing shouldn’t tax it too much. “Yes. It will be better to send files by e-mail instead of cassette tapes through the mail.” She released a light laugh. “Easier for me and for my instructors, I’m sure.”

Dr. Groening chuckled. “Well, it’s good you have this Thanksgiving break, then—a couple of free days to concentrate on studies, hmm?”

Trina managed a smile.

The doctor went on. “Has Marc talked to you at all about his plans?”

Trina shook her head. Even though she spent every day at the clinic, her path rarely crossed Dr. Royer’s. He preferred to spend his time at farms, going to the animals rather than remaining at the clinic and letting the animals come to him. Trina admitted the arrangement suited her fine—something about the man continued to intimidate her.

“Well, I’m sure he will when the time is right. He has some ideas for expanding the clinic, and he indicated you would be instrumental in seeing those plans through.”

Trina pinched her face into a puzzled scowl. “Expanding the clinic?”

Dr. Groening rubbed his finger over his lips, a grin hovering. “Well, not exactly making this one bigger, but having two clinics. This one and one in Hillsboro.”

Trina shook her head. “That would be a lot to keep track of.”

“Yes.” Again a chuckle rumbled. “And even someone as tall as Marc can’t be in two places at once. Actually, his ideas aren’t bad. I think you’ll find them interesting.”

Trina offered a slight shrug. “I’ll wait, then, for him to talk to me.”

“Probably after the holidays,” Dr. Groening said with a nod. He lifted his gaze toward the window when the sound of a truck’s engine intruded. “There’s your ride. Have a good Thanksgiving, Trina.”

The holiday wouldn’t feel right without Graham. Last year right before Thanksgiving, he’d made known his intentions to court her. Now they were miles apart. She swallowed. “I’ll do my best, Dr. Groening. You have a good weekend, too.”

She slipped her arms into her sweater and headed outside. Tony waited with the engine running. Climbing into the warm cab felt good after her brief time in the nippy November breeze. She sat quietly as Tony turned the pickup toward Sommerfeld, her heart pounding as they approached the spot where the man’s pickup had crossed the line and hit Graham’s car.

Each time she drove past the accident site, she looked around carefully. Over the past month, the place where the ground had been scuffed by the rolling car had smoothed out. Except for a few bare patches of missing grass and the occasional wink of broken glass, you could hardly tell something monumental had occurred there. But Trina still knew. She lived with the consequences.

She sighed, sending up another silent prayer for Graham’s recovery. Although she wrote to him every day and called every Saturday, it wasn’t the same as having him close enough to talk to or to touch. The telephone conversations were far from satisfying. She sensed Graham’s impatience to be done, yet they wouldn’t release him until he could pull himself into a standing position.
Hurry, Lord, and bring healing
, Trina’s heart begged. She needed Graham home so things could return to normal.

Suddenly, from behind the steering wheel, Tony erupted in a hysterical giggle, which he quickly squelched.

Trina sent him a puzzled look. “What was that all about?”

He pinched his lips together and didn’t answer.

Trina stared at him for a few minutes, but when he kept his eyes on the road, humming to himself, she turned her gaze forward. Silence reigned until they reached the Sommerfeld turnoff. Then, as Tony made the curve, another snort of laughter burst out.

Trina bopped him on the arm. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” He giggled nearly uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Yet the giggles continued in spurts until he pulled up in front of their house. Then he cleared his throat several times, pasted on a serious face, and said, “Well, let’s go in.”

Awareness prickled down Trina’s spine. “Tony?”

But he just hopped out and jogged up the sidewalk as if he hadn’t heard her. She followed more slowly, holding her sweater closed against the bite of the wind. When she reached the front door, Tony was waiting, a goofy grin on his face. He swung the door open for her, and she cast a sidelong glance at him as she stepped over the threshold.

The moment she entered the room, an exultant shout rose: “Surprise!”

Trina staggered backward, connecting with the doorjamb, as dozens of people—family and friends—popped from various locations. She pressed her hands to her chest and stammered stupidly, “W–what?” And then a movement toward the back of the group captured her attention. The bright flash of light on steel forced her to blink, and when she opened her eyes again, her heart fired into her throat.

“Graham!” She raced across the short expanse of carpet and grabbed his hands, which were curled over the padded bar of a silver walker. “You’re home!” Oh, how she longed to catapult into his arms, to press her lips to his, to feel his arms wrap around her and hold her close forever. But the frame of the walker created a barrier, so she had to be content to lean as close as possible and beam into his face. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! When did you get back?”

“Late last night.” He looked older, thinner, haggard. But his dear blue eyes were as warm as ever as he tipped his face toward hers and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Did we surprise you?”

“Yes!” She sent an accusatory look in Tony’s direction. “Although Tony tried to give it away by giggling.”

Tony assumed an innocent expression, and Andrew gave him a teasing smack on the back of his head. Everyone laughed. Mama stepped forward and put her arm around Trina.

“It was Graham’s idea not to tell you he was coming home so you could be surprised.” Mama’s smile bounced back and forth between Trina and Graham.

Mrs. Ortmann stepped beside Mama, her round face glowing. “And not to be outdone,
we
have surprises for both of you. Sit down.”

Trina walked beside Graham as he made his painstaking way to the sofa. His steps were slow, measured, his feet scuffing against the floor. But Trina’s heart pounded in happiness at the sight of her Graham on his feet, in her house back in Sommerfeld again. She held her breath as he maneuvered the walker in a small circle before lowering himself to the sofa. Once on the cushion, he released a huge breath, and Trina allowed her air to whoosh out, too. Then, with a smile, she snuggled as close to him as she could get without climbing into his lap.

The others gathered near, surrounding the sofa. Beth and Sean stepped forward, and Sean held out a black leather case. “Trina,” Beth said, “now that Graham is home, we know you won’t want to spend your evenings at our place on the computer, so. . .”

Sean placed the case on the sofa cushion next to Trina and unzipped it, folding back the cover to reveal a slim, black laptop computer. Trina gasped.

“You can take this wherever Graham is and do your assignments. You’ll need to establish Internet connection, but then you can send your assignments from home—wherever that may be.” Beth’s eyes twinkled. “We’re so proud of your accomplishments, Trina, and we wish you much success as you finish your education.”

Applause broke out from the group, and several people gave Sean pats on the shoulder as he stepped back. Beth leaned down to give first Trina then Graham a hug, and Trina was too stunned to even protest the extravagant gift.

Deacon Reiss pushed to the front. Mama, Dad, and Graham’s parents flanked him, as if forming a wall of support. An air of expectancy filled the room, and Trina took Graham’s hand, pressing it tightly between hers.

Deacon Reiss spoke. “Graham and Trina, over the past months, we’ve seen you exhibit great dedication: dedication to following God’s will in your lives and dedication to one another. You have been an inspiration to all of us in facing difficulties with faith and fortitude.” He linked his fingers together and pressed them to his middle, a prayerful stance. “We know this accident has created a hardship for you to see your plans through.”

Graham flicked a glance at Trina, his brow furrowed. Trina looked back, as puzzled as he.

“There aren’t any guarantees when Graham will be able to return to full-time work, yet Trina’s college classes will go on. There will be costs involved to pay for school, maintain a home, and meet your daily needs. So. . .” The man drew in a great breath, sending his gaze around the circle of faces before looking at Graham and Trina again. “The deacons and minister met last Sunday afternoon; then they paid visits to every family in the fellowship, and we have gained commitments to contribute a small love token each month for your use. When these tokens are combined, it totals an amount that should meet your monthly needs until Graham is able to work full-time again.”

“But we couldn’t—,” Graham started.

“Oh, but—,” Trina started at the same time.

Deacon Reiss raised his hand. “No arguments. We’re your family, we love you, and we want to help. Besides—” His lips curved into a smile. “When Trina comes back as a veterinarian, she’ll be meeting our needs. You’ll have the chance to repay us then.”

Tears burned behind Trina’s nose. She looked at Graham, and he blinked repeatedly, moisture glimmering in his eyes. She waited for him to decide whether or not to receive this gift. Finally, he swallowed, cleared his throat, and lifted his face to the waiting audience.

“Trina and I appreciate your love and support. Thank you.”

Another cheer rose from the group; then everyone crowded close, offering hugs and words of encouragement. Slowly they drifted out the door, leaving Trina, Graham, and their parents. Mama crooked her finger, and the four adults moved to the back half of the house, leaving Trina and Graham alone.

The moment the room was vacated, Trina raised her arms to throw them around Graham’s neck. She remembered in time the need to be gentle and cupped his cheeks instead. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me, too,” Graham said, turning his face to kiss her palm. “I never want to leave you again. It felt like forever.”

Trina pulled back, feigning shock. “You mean it
wasn’t
forever?”

Graham laughed and shifted against the couch cushion. He sighed. “Oh, Trina, it’s so good to be home.”

Very slowly, Trina leaned sideways until her head rested lightly on his shoulder. He tipped his head, pressing his cheek to her cap. They sat for several long minutes, simply enjoying each other’s nearness. But then Graham lifted his head and gave a gentle nudge with his shoulder, dislodging her. She sat up and faced him.

“There’s much we need to talk about,” he said, his expression serious. He took hold of her hands.

Trina nodded. “I’ve been so worried about finances—how we’d make it.” A lump filled her throat. “But we’ll be all right.”

He sighed. “The financial support is a blessing. That’s for sure.” His thumbs traced lazy circles on the backs of her hands. “But I’m still not sure where we’ll live. I—I can’t climb stairs, so the upstairs rooms at Mom and Dad’s won’t work. On the way home, Mom suggested we take the back downstairs bedroom at their house, and we could, but it won’t give us much privacy. It’s right off the kitchen.”

“It won’t be for long, you know. And being right off the kitchen means it’ll be easier for us to get midnight snacks.”

Graham smirked. “Midnight snacks?”

“Studying makes me hungry,” Trina said, grinning. “And besides, I need to fatten you up.” She shook her head in mock dismay. “Didn’t they feed you at all while you were gone? You’re as skinny as a scarecrow.”

Graham made a face. “Food never tastes good when you’re far from home. Now that I’m here, I’ll put the weight back on.”

“I’ll see to it.” There was much Trina would see to—his therapy, his meals, his emotional needs. She squeezed his hand, sending a silent message.

“And I’ll help you with your studies,” he said. His fingers convulsed. “About our wedding. . .”

Trina sat bolt upright. “We aren’t postponing it.” Heat flooded her cheeks at her own audacity. Had she just told her future husband what to do?