Mother of Prevention (19 page)

The background noise ceased; I assumed that Warren had hit the mute button on the remote. He cleared his throat.

“Is she all right?”

“The doctor says she’s stable for the time being, but he won’t know anything for certain until test results come back.” I briefly explained about the diet pills.

“Yes, I know she takes them.”

“And you don’t mind!” My words came out sharper than I intended.

“Mind? Why should I mind? She has a weight problem.”

I wanted to somehow beam myself through the phone line and slap him silly. What an awful thing to say when his wife is lying in a hospital bed, threatened by something you’d condoned.

“Unsupervised diet pills are harmful, Warren. Doesn’t Mazi know that?”

“She never felt well when she took them, but they controlled her appetite. She rarely takes prescription pills. She usually stays with the over-the-counter brands. Health food
stores, that sort of thing.” Resentment now colored his tone. I could tell he didn’t like my attitude, but then I didn’t care for his, either.

I clutched the receiver. “When may I tell Mazi to expect you home?”

“Home? I’m in Arkansas.”

“Yes.” What I longed to say was a very sarcastic
So?
He made the distance sound like earth to Mars. We had a crisis here, not a class reunion.

“By the time I fly from here to there the emergency will be resolved. My wife is okay. Isn’t that what you said?”

“She’s stable. I don’t know what the tests will show.”

“But she’s being properly treated?”

“As far as I know. I’m not a doctor.”

“When the tests come back you call me. If my presence is warranted, then I’ll see about booking a flight. Right now Little Rock is experiencing blizzard conditions. I’m not sure I can even get a flight out. I have two important accounts to call on in the morning—”

I interrupted his excuses. “More important than your wife?”

The challenge lay between us like a coiled rattler. This was none of my business; this was Warren and Mazi’s affair, but at the moment I felt as if I was the only person in the world who cared about Mazi Hollingsworth’s welfare.

Warren said sharply, “I beg your pardon?” Tension hummed over the wire as thick as lowland fog.

“Listen, Warren. Here’s the hospital number.”

I rattled off the digits, barely allowing him time to jot down the numbers.

“I don’t know what room Mazi will be in, but if you care enough about your wife to call and inquire about her condition, ask to speak to Dr. Harding in Emergency. He can fill you in.”

I hung up.

Bonehead.

He hadn’t bothered to ask what hospital.

T
hin sunlight cast a light orange glow in the sterile hospital room. Mazi lay on the narrow bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. She knew I was with her, but she was confused and perplexed. She wasn’t certain where she was or what had happened.

Oddly enough, she hadn’t asked for Warren.

The long night, filled with uncertainty, had provided me time to think about the people God had placed in my life. Devoted friends. My children. Neil.

Mom.

Madge.

Mazi.

All three would give their lives for friends and family. Tonight’s life-threatening experience with Mazi had made me realize how much I loved the three special women in my life, and how little I’d appreciated two of them.

I rested my head on the side of the mattress and listened to the activity of a busy hospital. Shift change. New nurses coming and going—compassionate men and women who got small recognition and still smaller pay for the jobs they performed.

I should have known about the diet pills. Within minutes of meeting her, Madge had caught on that something wasn’t right with Mazi. She misinterpreted my friend’s distracted behavior, but she’d been on the mark otherwise.

Face it, Kate. You missed the warning signs because you are blind to any trouble other than that on your doorstep.

I wasn’t the only woman in the world who had lost a husband, but I had acted as if I was. I’d cried, whined, ranted and raved, even tried to run away from my problems, and God had let me pitch my fit. I’d been acting like a spoiled child, throwing a first-class temper tantrum.

Sure, I had a right to be angry. I didn’t have a right, however, to reject God and teach my children that trouble meant they could abandon trust and belief in times of crisis. Regret and remorse filled me until I thought I couldn’t breathe.

How hardheaded could I be?

Mazi’s eyes fluttered open and I eased closer to the bed. Her eyes focused on me, and I could see the uncertainty in her expression.

“Kate? Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital.”

She swallowed against a dry throat. “Why? Am I hurt?”

“No. Do you remember anything about last night?”

Her eyes closed. “I was upset. Warren called. He wasn’t coming home this weekend.”

I spoke softly. “Remember the flat tire we fixed?”

She nodded.

“Well, the limousine owner sent you flowers—a simply unbelievably gorgeous bouquet. The size alone rivals the Rose Parade.”

I was exaggerating, of course, but I needed her to know and to feel the excitement.

She managed a faint smile. “He did?” Her eyes remained closed. “Does Warren know I’m here?”

“He knows. I called him last night. He’d be here right now, but Little Rock is having a blizzard and flights are canceled.”

Forgive me, God, but how can I tell her that her husband cares so little that he didn’t plan to fly home unless she worsens?

“The bouquet is large?”

“Honest, Mazi. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Imagine that. I thought he would forget.”

My news could wait—forever, if need be. Mazi was my only concern and joy at the moment. I took a deep breath, not certain of how much to tell her regarding last night’s events.

“The moment I got the bouquet, I brought it over. I yelled, but you didn’t answer.”

Her face remained expressionless and I figured she knew where I was going.

“Your door was unlocked, so I stepped inside and called you. When you didn’t answer I went looking for you.”

“And you found me,” she whispered.

“I called for an ambulance and they brought you here. You were very ill, Mazi. How long have you taken diet pills?”

She opened her eyes and tears slid silently down her cheeks. “A while now. I knew they weren’t good for me, but it seemed like I couldn’t get through a week without them.”

I squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own troubles I never thought about you and any problems you might have.”

Mazi used her free hand to wipe her eyes. “Oh, Kate, my life is such a mess. Warren is seldom home and when he is here, he’s so cold and distant. I’m afraid he doesn’t love me anymore.”

I didn’t think his blood ran warm enough to love anyone. Warren was a first-class moron, but of course I didn’t tell Mazi. But she had to know.

“You are deeply loved,” I told her. “I’ve been almost jealous sometimes at the way the girls carry on over you, and I love you so much.”

I hadn’t realized the extent of my feelings until tonight when I’d thought I’d lost her.

She seemed to brighten at that. “Really, Kate?”

“Really, Mazi.”

She blinked at the teardrops clustered on her lashes. Then her facade crumbled. “I think he’s involved with another woman.”

Poor Mazi. Foolish Warren. How could any man not see what he had in this warm, wonderful woman?

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have understood.”

She shook her head. “How could you possibly understand? Neil was everything that Warren isn’t. Warm, caring. Devoted husband. I’m a military brat, Kate. We moved around so often I never got to make close friends, the kind of friends that you confide in about your problems. I was brought up to believe that my problems were
my
problems. You don’t bother others with them.”

“For the most part, problems are best shared with friends.”

Mazi choked on sobs. “You think I don’t know how cold and indifferent my husband can be? I do, but I love him, Kate. And you’re so perfect.”

I handed her the small box of hospital tissues and she blew her nose. Perfect? Me? The one who couldn’t cope, the wimp afraid of her shadow? The dedicated Christian who had tried to run away from God? I could think of quite a few adjectives that might describe me, but
perfect
wasn’t one of them.

“If only you knew how imperfect I am. When Neil died, I shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. I didn’t have anything holding me together—not faith, not trust in a God I knew held my future. Nothing. I have wandered around in a faithless stupor, unable to function or care for my girls the way I should have. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

Mazi wiped at tears. “Certainly not sitting in a hospital room with a foolish friend.”

“You don’t understand, Mazi. I’ve been so afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You’ve lived all over the world. You aren’t afraid to stay home when Warren’s gone. You accept and cope. I haven’t coped. I haven’t even come close.”

She gave a rueful laugh. “You call what happened to me last night coping?”

“Well, no, I guess not, but you function. Most of your decisions are good ones. The only decisions I’m capable of making are wrong ones.”

“You’ve done the best you could. You sold your house, you moved out here where you didn’t know anyone. Look at all you’ve accomplished.”

“I never felt secure. I always worried.”

“Who does feel secure? No matter what we have, it can be taken from us in a minute.”

Aha. That was it. “No, that’s where you’re wrong. God’s love cannot be taken from us. We
can
be assured, if we are children of God. And He is able to handle the uncertainties of our lives.”

Now I was thinking and sounding like the Kate Neil had fallen in love with.

“I’m afraid of snakes and frogs and tornadoes and earthquakes. I’m afraid of the ocean and of bugs and germs. You name it, I’m afraid of it, but those aren’t eternal fears. I have no eternal fears because I’m confident in the One who holds my future. I simply forgot when Neil was taken away so unexpectedly.”

I thought I caught a hint of a smile. “Well, I’m afraid of some of those things, too. Maybe the eternal fears more than the snakes and frogs. Being brave doesn’t mean you’re never afraid. It means you do what you have to do even if you’re scared.”

I squeezed her hand and leaned over to whisper, “I think God has His eye on you, Mazi Hollingsworth. You can run, but you can’t hide. Trust me.”

Her expression sobered. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about God and His acceptance, haven’t I?”

I nodded. “I think you’re past the age of accountability.”

Mazi reached for another tissue. She wiped the tears from her eyes and blew her nose. “You’ve got so much faith. I wish I could have just a small dose.” She stared at me, her lips quivering. “I’m addicted to diet pills, Kate. I’ve never admitted it before, but it’s true. I found a new doctor last week—he put me on even stronger ones. That’s why I’ve been so trembly and unsteady lately. I can’t come to God in this condition.”

I drew a deep breath and explained the plan of salvation: repent and accept. So easy even a child could understand.

She looked at me with the beginnings of new hope dawning in her eyes. “Give me a little time to think it over. But I promise I will.”

The nurse came into the room, and I stepped out into the hallway. While people flowed around me, intent on their own purpose, I prayed for Mazi.

A warm peaceful calm filled me. I knew God wasn’t mad at me; He never had been.

Doctors and technicians came and went. I called work and told them I wouldn’t be in, and then called home and told Harry what happened. Around eight o’clock I wandered down to the cafeteria for breakfast. I’d had a rough night. I needed sustenance. The long, lonely hours sitting by Mazi’s bedside, praying that I wouldn’t lose her as I had lost Neil, had left me rattled.

An older woman carried her tray to my table. “May I sit here?”

“Of course.”

She looked exhausted. Thin, gray haired, shoulders slumped. She touched my heart.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

She managed a smile. “Just tired. I’ve been here all night. My husband had a stroke.” She stopped and took a sip of coffee. I
could see she was struggling for control. “I’m afraid I’ll have to put him in a nursing home—if he ever leaves here.”

I reached across the table and took her hand. “Do you have anyone with you?”

She nodded. “My daughter is coming today.” She smiled, even though her lips trembled. “Even so, I am not alone.”

Silent camaraderie flowed between us. I knew, without her saying, where she found her source of strength.

A younger woman approached our table. Her daughter. I murmured goodbye and left, returning to Mazi’s room. She peered up sleepily when I entered.

“I did it,” she said. “I asked Him and it happened, just the way you said. Oh, Kate. I never knew I could feel so—loved.”

When I hugged her, our tears mingled. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose. We were rapidly going through the tiny box between the two of us.

“Now we are blood sisters. Sisters in Christ.”

She grinned, the former Mazi mischief flaring briefly in her eyes. “I think our meeting was one of those God jobs. Don’t you?”

“I have for a long time, because California sure hasn’t cut it for me.” I winked at her.

She sobered. “I’ll pray that He’ll give you wisdom to know what to do, Kate. The right thing for you and the girls—”

I slapped my forehead. “I can’t believe that I forgot to tell you! That man, the one who sent the flowers—oh, Mazi.” I took another deep breath. “He paid off half of my home mortgage.”

She stared at me, mouth agape. “He did what?”

“There was a card with the flowers. It said he’d paid down my mortgage, and I’m sure he did. I’m going to call the bank to verify it.”

Her eyes shone with wonder. “Oh, Kate, how wonderful. Who do you suppose he was?”

“I have no idea. I wish I knew, so I could thank him.” Thank him? The word didn’t begin to describe my gratitude.

“Maybe he was an angel.”

I laughed. “No. I think he was a rich Good Samaritan who could return a favor in a way that most of us only dream about. If it hadn’t been for the flowers he sent you, I’d never have gone to your house yesterday.”

“You’d never have found me in time,” Mazi mused. And I knew her thoughts; no one would have found her, certainly not Warren.

“We’d never have had this talk.”

“And I wouldn’t have accepted God’s gift,” she finished. “So He did have a hand in it.”

“God works in mysterious ways.”

I was learning that His ways were not my ways. I made plans, all right, lots of plans, and they fell apart, like the sand castles the girls built at the seashore.

Kate Madison was through building on the sand.

Three days later, having taken the afternoon off, I drove Mazi home. I helped her inside her house, since she was still feeling a bit weak, and there on the table sat the bottle of diet pills.

She picked up the bottle and put it in a plastic grocery sack. “Don’t leave yet. I may not have the strength to do this by myself.”

She went through the house gathering up bottles of pills and dumping them in the bag. She must have bought every brand on the market, the way she bought perfume and lotion. Prescription drugs were less evident.

When she finished, she handed me the sack. “Okay, you can go home now. There are no pills in the house, and if I feel I can’t get through the night without them, I’ll call you.”

“I can sleep over if you want.”

“No, I have to do this on my own. The girls have been without you enough. Tell them I’m all right, and thank them for
their prayers.” She reached to hold me tightly. “Thank you for everything.”

I hugged her back. “You’ve helped me, too, Mazi. That’s the way it works with friends.”

She smiled. “God has given me a new life. I promise you, Kate, I’m not going to waste this one. I know it won’t be easy, but with God’s help, and even if I get bigger than a blue-ribbon guernsey, I’m through with pills for the rest of my life.”

I was so proud of her I could have cried. Instead, I hugged her again and then went to face my in-laws and Kris and Kelli. The girls met me at the door.

“Is Mazi home?” Kris asked.

“She’s home. You can go over later. Give her a chance to settle in first, okay?”

“We drew pictures for her!”

“She’ll love them. You can take them over after lunch.”

“I’ve got lunch cooking.” Madge came into the living room. “Chicken strips and corn dogs.”