Texas Weddings 3 & 4 (25 page)

A familiar worship song kicked in and she leaned back
against the seat in an attempt to relax. Somewhere between the words of the
scripture, the lyrics of the song and her husband’s hand squeezed tightly in
her own, hope took root.

***

Nathan paced the halls of the small hospital, praying
silently. In the hours since arriving, he and Kellie had taken turns consoling
her mother and speaking with the doctors. From what he could gather, his father-in-law’s
prognosis was grim, at best. He grimaced as he relived the doctor’s words:
 
“Ruptured
aneurysm in the brain.
Immediate surgery to reduce bleeding
and swelling.
Medically induced coma.
Chances
of
survival.
. . less than fifty percent.
Recovery time undetermined.
Possibly weeks or months.”

Without a miracle, he might not make it.

Nathan continued to pace, his thoughts churning. He was
plagued with unanswered questions. If Kenton survived, would he ever be the
same again?
 
Would he have to relearn
how to speak, how to walk?
 
Would he
be able to return to work?
 
Lord, I don’t understand. How do these
things happen? Kenton loves his work. And the people of
Greenvine
love him.
They also needed him.
Kenton’s work as City Comptroller had garnered him the respect and appreciation
of friends and neighbors. How would they manage without him?

“Nathan?”

He startled at his wife’s beckoning. “What, baby?” He looked
up into Kellie’s tearstained eyes then gestured for her to sit next to him.

She settled into the
chair and leaned her head on his shoulder. “What will happen if he doesn’t get
better?” she whispered. “What will my mama do?
 
What will I do?”

Nathan couldn’t seem
to muster up the words to respond. He didn’t have answers, at least not yet.
But one thing was for sure:
 
He had
to begin to devote more time to her and less time to work. He had to let her
know she took precedence over his job. And he must start now.

“This is the first
time I’ve ever had to face the possibility that I could lose someone I love.”
Kellie continued to speak in hushed tones. “It’s scary.” She paused for a
moment. “I mean, I know God’s in control and I know for sure where my father
would be, but
still.
. .” Tears filled her eyes. “I
would miss him so much.”

“Let’s don’t think
like that.” Nathan sat up straight in his chair, determined to put a more
positive spin on the situation. “We’re going to keep praying and speaking words
of faith over him when we go in there. I’ve heard that people in comas can
still respond to our words.”

“I’ve heard that too.”
For the first time, Kellie’s eyes reflected hope. She bit her lip then looked
at him squarely. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“I have my portable CD
player in the car. And I have tons of worship CD’s. Maybe they’d let me play
some music when we go in to see him. I know Daddy loves worship music. And
hymns. I’ve got that great new collection of classic hymns my sister recorded.
He loves that one.” Her eyes lit up for the first time since they’d arrived.

“Great idea.” Nathan
squeezed her hand. “And we’ll pray every time we go in. Out loud. He’ll hear
us; I know he will. And even if his body doesn’t respond, his spirit will.”

Nathan drew Kellie to
himself and kissed her on the head.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said.

“Why?” He looked down
at her in vague curiosity.

“You’re such a man of
faith. Sometimes I feel
so.
. .inadequate. When the
rubber meets the road, my faith just flies right out the window.”

If only she knew how weak I feel.
“No it doesn’t.” He kissed her on
the forehead. “You’re one of the strongest women I know. You just need time to
adjust to all of this.”

Her cell phone rang
out, startling them both.

Nathan looked at his
watch. 7:53 A.M. “Who’s calling this early?”
  

“It’s Caroline from
the office,” Kellie explained, looking at the Caller ID. “I’m sure she’s just
wanting to check up on things.”

Kellie took the call
and Nathan’s thoughts wandered a bit as her conversation shifted. He could tell
she wrestled with the need to be in two places at once. He understood that
dilemma. Work beckoned, but how could they leave?
 
Kellie would never forgive herself and
he wasn’t sure he’d be able to, either.

Nathan glanced at his
watch one more time. 7:56 A.M. He toyed with the idea of calling his office
while he had the chance. So many things remained undone. The pressures were
greater than ever. And yet he must stay here, at his wife’s side. She needed
him. And, in so many ways, Kellie’s mother needed her. Norah Conway was one of
the strongest women he had ever met, but she clearly needed her daughter at her
side right now.

Lord, You’re
going to have to work out the details. I’ve got too much on my plate to figure
it all out.

Peace flooded Nathan’s soul right away. Because he had too
much on his plate, he would truly have to hand this situation over to the Lord.
Not that he could fix it, anyway. But it sure felt better to relieve
himself
of the responsibility.

Over the next few minutes, as Kellie continued her phone
conversation, Nathan came to a difficult decision. No matter what, he would do
all he could to support Kellie and her family during this difficult time. No
sacrifice was too great.

He came to another conclusion, as well. He would hold her
closer than ever. He would redeem every moment.

four

Kellie stared at her reflection in the tiny restroom mirror
and groaned. The bags under her eyes grew larger daily. Each morning she
attempted to swipe on a tiny bit of eye shadow and mascara, but it all seemed
so pointless now. For nearly forty-eight hours she had barely slept. Instead,
she and Nathan shuffled in and out of the Neurological ICU alongside her
mother.

She occasionally gathered her wits about her long enough to
think about what she might be missing at the office. Even then she couldn’t
keep her thoughts straight. What did it matter, anyway?
 
Her father’s life hung in the
balance.
 
How could she even justify
thinking about fluctuations in the stock market or the potential loss of a
client?
 
What if she lost her
father?
  

The news about his condition had fluctuated as
well—sometimes up, sometimes down. Her emotions seemed to follow suit,
though she struggled hour-by-hour to call on God.
Where is my faith?
 
I’m a
spiritual wimp.
Still, she managed to garner up enough fortitude to face
her mother with chin up each and every time. She needed to be strong for her.

At least today things appeared to be a bit more hopeful.
With the bleeding under control, the swelling in her father’s brain appeared to
be receding. This was the first bit of good news they’d had all along. And she
clung to it with a fierceness that would not relent.

Soon—perhaps in
the next few days—the doctors would allow him to rouse ever so gently
from the medically induced coma they’d kept him in since his surgery. When that

 
moment
arrived she would be right there at his side, even if
it meant losing her job. Even if it meant going without sleep until they had
some news.

Kellie exited the
bathroom, gripping the doorknob with a paper towel in her hand. No point in
taking chances. Not here, with so many germs floating around. She walked out
into the hallway and stretched. Nathan approached her and wrapped her in his
arms.

“I’m sure I smell just
awful.” She looked up into his understanding eyes.

Nathan shook his head
and shrugged. “No more so than the rest of us.”

She yawned. “Mom says
you and I should sneak over to her place and take a shower. Maybe even try to
sleep a few hours. What do you think?”

“I,
uh.
. .” He pulled back a bit and shifted his gaze.

“What?”

Nathan’s words were
quiet, but rushed. “I hate to say this. I really do. But I’ve got to get back
to the office. They’re falling apart without me.” He paused. “Well, not falling
apart literally, but they act as if they are. My whole department is in
turmoil.”

Kellie didn’t respond
at first. She fought to push down the growing lump in her throat as she leaned
her head against her husband’s chest. She didn’t want him to leave. She needed
him, more than ever. “I really wish you wouldn’t—” She stopped
mid-sentence. Why inflict guilt unnecessarily?

“I know. But it won’t
be so bad, really. I was thinking I could go back for a couple of days and get
caught up, then come back to your mom’s place. Sound okay?”

Not really. But I understand.
“You have to do what you have to do.”
She pulled away from him and shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” She felt silly pouting,
but couldn’t seem to help herself. After all, she was missing work too. Did he
not see that?

“If it would make you
feel better, I could drive back and forth,” he explained. “That way I could
still spend time with you in the evenings.”

“That doesn’t make any
sense,” she argued. “You need your sleep if you’re going to work. You can’t
work all day then come up here and stay awake all night. How would you drive
back the next morning?”

“You need some rest
too.” He reached to brush a stray hair out of her eyes. “I know you’ve got to
be exhausted. At least I’ve slept a little in the waiting room. You haven’t
rested for days.”

“I know.” She sighed.
“But every time I think about relaxing, I start to worry. What if I went home
for a shower and he woke up?
 
What
if something happened to him and I was asleep?”

Nathan shook his head.
“You can’t control any of that. And besides, you put way too much on yourself.
You always have.”

She argued with
herself before responding. When she did speak, the words came out sounding a
bit terse. She didn’t mean for them to. She just couldn’t seem to control the
emotion behind the explanation.

“You don’t understand, Nathan.” She crossed her arms at her
chest. “I’m all they have. Ever since my sister moved to New York, I’ve been
the logical choice. I have to be the one to pick up the slack.”

“I know, but you can’t
be everything to everyone. You have to take care of yourself, or you won’t be
any good to your mom. And it’s not like she’d be alone.” He is face lit up with
that slow, crooked grin she loved. “You’ve seen all of her friends from church.
There are always at least three or four of them here at a time, tending to her
every need.”

“I know.” Kellie sighed because he clearly didn’t see her
point. “It’s just
that.
. .” It’s just that her
schedule at work had prevented her from spending enough time with her parents,
and the guilt was eating at her like nothing she’d ever known.

“You don’t have to be
a super-hero.” He pulled her close once again and ran his fingers through her
hair.

“I know.” Tears welled
up and she let them travel in little rivers down her cheeks. “But I don’t know how
to rest. It goes against my nature. You know what a ‘Martha’ I am.”

He smiled. “Yes, I
know. But Jesus called her to come and sit at His feet, remember?”

I could tell you the same thing. You work just as hard.
Maybe harder.

“I’ll
follow you and your mom out to her place,” he said. “And then I’ll head home to
get some work done.
Just a couple of days, honey.
Then
I’ll come back.”

She nodded. “It’s
fine.” As the words were spoken, an unusual peace flooded over her. It was
fine. God was in control and He would remain in control whether Nathan stayed
or went.
Our love for each other is
stronger than any separation. And God’s love for both of us is even greater
than that.

Nathan glanced at his
watch. “The next visitation time is in ten minutes. I won’t leave until I’ve
had a chance to see your dad once more. I want to pray with him before I go.”

“Okay.” She whispered
the word and gave the situation over to the Lord.

Kellie and Nathan went in search of her mother. They found
her in the waiting room with three of the ladies from her church. All four
women were huddled in a circle, praying and crying. For two days, it had been
like this. People from the small congregation had been a consistent part of the
process for her mother. They wouldn’t leave her side. They brought everything
from fast food to casseroles, blankets to pillows and devotion books to printed
lists of God’s promises. They prayed consistently, loved consistently and gave
consistently.

Kellie remembered this
kind of love. As a child, she had always known it. Funny. She hadn’t
appreciated it then. But now she missed it with an ache that couldn’t be
squelched.