Humbled (20 page)

Joel took off his watch and laid it on the dresser, then unbuttoned his shirt. He was in for the evening. They weren't going anywhere, unless it was by ambulance to the hospital. Before he settled into his room and called Sherry, he would lock up downstairs and turn off the lights. As he stepped foot on the bottom stair, the doorbell rang. Whoever was dropping by had to return another day. He'd express his apologies and get them off the doorstep in a matter of minutes. He peeked through the stained glass near the front door, and his tolerance withered. He leaned against the doorknob and scratched his head, peering at the floor. He could ignore the bell, but it wouldn't solve his immediate problem. There was only one thing to do—confront the thorn in his side. He gathered his emotions and snatched the door open.

“Tamara, how can I help you?” He forced each word out with such a cutting edge that it figuratively slit his tongue.

Tamara stood there with a bewildered expression. “Well, hello to you too,” she retorted. “What are you doing answering Zarah's door?”

Joel wasn't sparring with Tamara tonight. He had to get back upstairs. Fiddling around with Tamara wasn't going to happen. “How can I help you?” he asked again.

“I'm here to see Zarah.” Tamara gestured as if she was going to push past Joel to gain entry to the house.

Pests were too difficult to get out once they crawled in. There was no way he could let her in. He had pressing issues upstairs, and her antics weren't going to distract him from completing his mission of getting Zarah settled. He let his stature dominate the doorway, his arms folded and his legs spread a shoulder's length apart.

Brushing up against Joel's stone wall of a physique, she instantly halted. “Can I come in and check on her?”

“No, but I can let her know you dropped by.”

“I don't want you to deliver a message. I can talk to her myself.” Tamara took an extra step back, almost as if being too close to him repulsed her.

He didn't understand what thoughts were churning in her head, and he wasn't trying to find out. It would be up to her and a therapist to unravel her idiosyncrasies, as long as she got off his doorstep. If she kept dragging out her goodbye, he might have to assist her in vacating the premises.

“Leaving a message is your best bet tonight.”

“And who made you king?” she roared. “You're not able to decide who she talks to. She's not a child.”

“Why don't you leave?” he suggested. “I don't want any trouble.”

She planted her hand on her waist. “You better not have caused her any harm, or you'll see what trouble is,” she barked at him.

“Yada, yada, yada,' he replied, not caving in to her threat. “I'm shaking in my shoes about what big bad Tamara is going to do to me. Woo,” he said, intentionally fueling her anger. Then he took a serious tone. “Don't you worry about my wife. I'm here now. I'll take good care of her.” He sealed the statement with a wink.

What did he do that for? Tamara's temper blazed with “You are pathetic, taking advantage of a woman who had the poor luck of ending up with you for a husband.”

Joel discounted her observation. He didn't care what she thought. Zarah was his concern. Still, Tamara's comment was piercing, causing him to reflect. So what if he had professional reasons for pursuing Zarah? Tonight was purely personal. He'd made mistakes previously, too many to count. The last month had been filled with confusion. With the baby in jeopardy, the decision seemed clear. He couldn't and wouldn't leave Zarah. She was the mother of his unborn child. She deserved his respect.

“Tamara, you don't have to worry. I'm not mistreating her. You'll be glad to know that her well-being is my primary concern right now.” He leaned against the door and let his glance meet Tamara's. “I'm serious.”

“I hope you're telling me the truth,” she said, showing signs of relief, or at least Joel saw the reaction in her that he wanted. “Before I leave, can you tell me if she's sick?” Tamara asked with a glimmer of raw concern.

Joel hadn't seen her express concern for anybody. It was a shock, and he didn't quite know how to react.

Tamara went on. “Because I've called her several times today, and she hasn't returned any of my calls. That's unusual. She usually calls me back right away.”

Joel buttoned his shirt partially as the night air swept in. “She's been tired, but I'll definitely let her know you are concerned. Give her a day or two and I'm sure she'll be in touch.” Hopefully, Tamara would take the suggestion he'd offered and walk away. He wasn't going to share any details about Zarah's health scare, and Joel most certainly wasn't letting her in.

A veil of apprehension covered Tamara's face, but she seemed to accept his explanation. “I'll check on her tomorrow,” she said, turning to walk away. Sincerity enveloped her.

As her guard lowered, so did his. In a moment of compassion, kindness rose within him. “Do you need to use the phone to call a ride?”

She eased the long purse strap over her head and let it rest on her shoulder. “No thank you. The cab is parked at the foot of the driveway,” she said.

Joel peered down the driveway and saw the cab facing the road. “All right. Then we'll see you later.”

Tamara turned her back and schlepped to the cab.

Joel called out, “Tamara.”

She stopped and turned around.

“Thanks for checking on Zarah.”

She smirked.

“Seriously, you've been a good friend for her. You've been here when she needed you. So I'm saying thank you for looking out for Zarah and my baby,” Joel said, truly meaning what he was saying.

She waved at him with a grin. He guessed her reaction meant she was receiving his gratitude. He waited at the door until she was safely in the car and it pulled away.

The cordial encounter he'd just experienced with Tamara was unexpected but refreshing. However, Joel wasn't putting much stock in the truce. He eased the door shut and locked it. He cleared his thoughts and dashed up the stairs to check on his family.

After ascending the stairs, Joel stood in the doorway of the master bedroom. Zarah appeared to be resting quietly. He wanted to go inside and make sure, but he didn't want to take the chance of waking her while she was sleeping peacefully. He stood in the doorway for a few minutes. When she didn't move, he heaved a sigh of relief and retreated to his room.

He glanced at the clock. Eight thirty wasn't too late. He dialed his mother's number, and she answered.

“I'm glad you're there,” he told her. Comfort from his mother was exactly what Joel needed in order to get through this ordeal.

“Why? What's going on?” she asked, unaware of the weighty response coming.

“I'm at the house with Zarah. She was in a lot of pain earlier.”

“Did you take her to the hospital?” Sherry blurted out.

“No. She wouldn't let me call the ambulance.”

“What do you mean, she wouldn't let you? Just dial the number. She can't stop you.”

Joel didn't want to second-guess his decision. He'd come to terms with not getting help. He didn't want his mother to stir up his doubt. Zarah was sleeping. He'd stay positive, although he respected what his mother was saying.

“I guess she didn't want to get alarmed if there wasn't a real problem. Since I didn't want to contribute to her stress, I went along with her request. She seems to be okay now. She's sleeping.”

“Well, that's good, but I think she should see her doctor first thing in the morning and get checked out.”

“I'm staying here tonight, and I'll make sure she goes to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Good. It's better to be safe than sorry with a pregnancy.”

“I agree, Mom. Thanks for the support. I needed to hear that.”

“If you give me an hour, I can throw on some clothes and come over.”

“Oh no, I don't want you worrying. She's going to be fine. We're going to be fine,” he said, letting his statement serve as affirmation.

“I don't mind coming over, not one bit,” she told him. “I can sit with her and give you a break.”

“Thanks, Mom, but why don't you stay put tonight? Trust me, Zarah is in capable hands. If I need you, I'll call.” He wasn't about to let his mother get worked up and stressed out too. Then he'd have two women in crisis; one was plenty. He appreciated her sentiments but graciously declined again.

“Okay, son. Please call me in the morning to let me know how she's doing. Please give her my love too.”

“I will,” he said.

Joel held the phone like it was a comforting blanket. His mother had given him the encouragement he needed, but it wasn't quite sufficient. He had to get a more substantive dose. Joel did something he hadn't done in months: he sincerely prayed for someone other than himself. He knelt on the floor and extended his arm and prayed for Zarah's strength and healing. He tarried on his knees, wanting to get confirmation from God that his prayer had been heard. The presence of God didn't saturate the room, but his inner peace was sufficient. He let the quiet soothe his soul.

Renewed with a touch of grace, he tiptoed into the master bedroom and sat in a chair not far from the bed. He fidgeted to find a relaxing position. After a while, he gave up, realizing that as long as Zarah was in danger, there wasn't a relaxing position for him. As she suffered, so would he.

 

 

“Ahhh,” Zarah cried out. “Help me. Help me!”

Joel heard the piercing cries, but he was groggy and couldn't instantly process where he was or what was happening. He had dozed off in one chair, his legs outstretched and his feet resting on another. His glance sprinted around the room, searching for familiarity. Finally, the setting was registering. He was in their bedroom at home.

“Help me, please!” Zarah wailed.

Joel sprang into action. He kicked the chair out of his way and ran to the bedside. “I'm here,” he said, desperate to calm her down. The room was dark, but he could see Zarah's silhouette. He grabbed her hand while attempting to turn on the light switch.

“The baby,” she said, gripping his hand.

He felt wetness on her hand and didn't think much of it until the light came on. Joel stood next to the bed with her hand in his, stunned. Her hand was covered with blood, and the sheet had a large red spot near Zarah. His heart was pounding and his thoughts were racing, but Joel had to remain composed, despite the mounting horror. Zarah had to be put at ease until he could get her to the hospital.

“Lie back,” he said and lifted her legs onto the bed. “Stay calm. I'm calling the ambulance.”

“Joel, I don't want—”

He placed his index finger across her lips. “Shh. I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm calling the ambulance, and that's the end of this discussion.” He rushed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1. He rattled off the requested information and set the phone on the nightstand.

Zarah was balled up in the fetal position and moaning. Joel wished there was more he could do. He had to resign himself to waiting for the paramedics. He stroked her hair, believing his touch provided some small bit of relief. Her moans grew louder and more strained. He patted her hands, offering what comfort he could.

“I have to run downstairs and open the door for the paramedics.”

She clung to his hand, squeezing tightly. “Don't leave me,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead, willing to use any technique that would help her to calm down. “I'll run down and be back in less than a minute, but you have to let me go,” he said, peeling each of Zarah's fingers from his hand. She gripped his arm as though he hadn't said a word. “I promise to hurry down and be right back,” he said, kissing her forehead again, and pulled away.

In dramatic fashion she reached for him. Joel exited the room and literally ran down the hallway and dashed down the stairs. He got to the door just as flashing lights were circling the foyer through the door's side glass panels. He unlocked the door and snatched it open.

“Is this the Mitchell residence?” one paramedic asked, entering the house with a medical kit.

“Yes. Come right in,” he said, stepping to the side. “My wife, Zarah, is upstairs, in the master bedroom. It's down the hall and around the corner.”

Two paramedics traipsed up the stairs. Joel stayed out of their way but wasn't far behind. When he approached the bedroom, he heard one of the medics asking Zarah questions. She was riled up and not very responsive. Joel poked his head around the corner so she could see him and hopefully settle down. His plan must have worked, because her muttering stopped once she made eye contact with him. Joel didn't want to blink, afraid he'd lose his effect on her. The paramedics worked quickly. One continued checking her vital signs, while the other bolted downstairs and returned with a portable gurney.

“Do you need me to help you get her downstairs?” Joel asked, uncomfortable with strangers carrying his wife.

“We have her secured, Mr. Mitchell. We're ready for transport.”

They descended the stairs and carried Zarah outside to the ambulance. They slid the gurney inside.

Joel watched. The scene seemed surreal to him. As the ambulance doors closed, he snapped back to the present. “Hang on!” he shouted. “I'm riding with my wife.”

“Okay, but you'd better hurry. We're ready to move.”

Joel thanked the paramedics and hopped in. He sat next to Zarah in a cramped space, not caring two hoots about the inconvenience. Being with her negated the discomfort. Zarah was going in and out of consciousness. Despite the trauma she was suffering at the hands of fate, her beauty shone in the tight space.

He traced the rim of her face. “I'm sorry for not coming home sooner,” he said, bending close to her ear.

He wasn't certain she could hear him. He clutched her hand and closed his eyes tightly as the ambulance careened down the road. Without prompting or pretense, he uttered a prayer, prepared to beg God for Zarah's and the baby's health. Joel remembered that he didn't have to beg God for favors, blessings, or miracles. What God was going to do was done out of His grace, mercy, and abiding love.

Joel reflected on those gifts from God, cleared his throat, and changed the tone of his prayer. “God, I'm asking you for divine healing for Zarah and the baby, but not because you owe me anything,” he said in a muffled voice. “I'm asking because you are God, and you are the almighty ruler of heaven and earth. Help my wife and baby right now, Lord, in Jesus's name.” He closed with “Amen,” and a load dropped from his shoulders. A wave of peace flowed into the ambulance. Not only was Zarah going to be all right, but Joel also believed he was going to be too. He didn't know how, but that wasn't his concern. He'd let God work out the details. Joel's hands were already filled with more than he could handle.